#i guess this counts as an early birthday piece :')) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kiwisbell · 8 months

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Whiskey Sour

chapter four: between the sheets

Reuniting with your estranged father while you finish college in Austin has unintended consequences. His best friend, for one.

series masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

series tags and warnings: dbf!joel being extremely criminally attractive, big ol' age gap (40s/early 20s), unprotected piv (do not follow the leader), creampie, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m and f receiving), dry humping, spitting, biting, joel miller is a MUNCH, very appropriate use of a showerhead, consensual somnophilia, yoga, heavy emphasis on payphones, daddy issues, family reunions, angst, dead mom, grief and mourning, father/daughter relationship, bartending, reader is a woman in STEM (author is not), being a student in university deserves a warning probably, attempted drugging (roofies), college boys suck, possessive sex, possessive joel, protective joel, obligatory warning for joel's salt-and-pepper hair, masturbation, wet dreams, no outbreak AU, hurt/comfort, healing, no sarah or ellie, stargazing, face-sitting, pining/yearning, happy ending

word count: ~ 7.7k

a/n: let the fucking commence!

chapter 4: between the sheets

Joel's birthday.

Your car is still in the shop by Monday—Joel’s birthday—so you’ll be sleeping at your dad’s place.

And so will Joel.

“Is this what you guys usually do for birthdays?” you ask, looking up from your studying toward your dad, who's stocking the cooler with beer. “Drink, eat, and watch TV until you rot or pass out?”

“Any better ideas?”

You roll your eyes. “Guess not.”

He opens the fridge. “Are you sure I can’t have a piece of—”

“Do. Not. Eat that cake,” you warn without looking up from your textbook.

“Jesus. Bossy.”

“That’s Joel’s cake, Dad.” You look at him over the couch and grin. “Once he gets the first piece, you can pig out.”

“I didn't say pig out,” he mumbles.

There's a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” you offer, jumping upright and knocking your textbook off your lap.

“Did you have an extra shot of espresso in your coffee this morning?” calls your father from the kitchen, but you're already in the foyer, opening the door for Joel.

He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a grey T-shirt, as usual, but wears them so nicely it's almost as exciting as a new outfit altogether. You opted for one of your sundresses, white and printed with daisies. “Hi,” you say, sounding more out-of-breath than you feel. “Happy birthday, Joel.”

Fuck, this dress. Is he supposed to sit right next to you all night without reaching his hands under that flowy little skirt? It’s his goddamn birthday—he should be able to do whatever he wants to with whatever you offer him. But Mike’s here, in between the two of you, forever. So, all he can do is kiss the top of your head and whisper, “Thank you, baby.”

You beam up at him, and he’s not going to last the night when you look like this, dress like this. “You’ll love the cake,” you tell him, ushering him into the kitchen.

“Happy birthday, you old asshole.” Mike pulls him into a hug and slaps him on the back.

Joel chuckles. “Real nice, man.”

“Don't mind my kid.” He jerks his head in your direction, where you've settled yourself on the couch again, surrounded and engulfed by textbooks and notebooks. “She doesn't know how to relax.”

“I know how to relax,” you say, nose still buried in your work. Joel knows you do. He helped you relax just a few nights ago. “Unless you two want to write this test for me, I’ll be multitasking tonight.”

Joel and Mike crack open a bottle each of Sam Adams and clink them together. “To gettin’ old,” says Mike.

I’m the one who sat your daughter on my lap and made her come all over me. Can a young, stupid kid do that? Joel just grins, feeling a little bit of primordial pride. “To friends who should learn to shut the fuck up.”

They drink at the same time, and you hold up a glass of water from your spot on the couch in cheers. “To being around long enough to remember when the Colosseum was built.”

Oh, you think you’re real fuckin’ funny. He’s got half a mind to drag you upstairs and stuff your mouth with his cock just to make you remember how good he makes you feel. Maybe it’ll fix that attitude; maybe it’ll just quiet you down for a bit. Joel shares a look with Mike, who’s trying not to laugh. “She said it.”

Mike sits in the chair next to the television before Joel can subtly usher him into the seat next to yours. He sets his jaw, lowering himself next to you, the corner of a textbook briefly jabbing him in the ass. If he looks long enough, he will see that your skirt has slipped up your thighs and the barest sliver of your ass is visible from where he sits. He would not know, of course, because he isn't looking.

“Can we do gifts now?” you ask, biting your lip to hide your excitement. Joel’s heart squeezes at the thought of getting a present from you.

Arms around his neck. Layers of clothing between you. Your body rubbing up against him, taking what you want. Sweet moans that hang from the ceiling of his brain. Stalactites.

What more could you give him?

“I don't see why not,” says Mike. “But since best goes last, you should give your present first.”

You roll your eyes and set all your things on the table, leaning over the armrest to produce a giant gift bag brimming with blue tissue paper. Joel, of course, does not look at the shape of your ass in his face. “Blue’s your favourite colour,” you tell him.

It is. He doesn't even remember telling you. Joel takes out the tissue paper and pulls out the first item. It's a cowboy hat, tied with ribbon to a green plaid-patterned flannel.

He looks at your pretty, smiling face. “In case you want to go back to your roots,” you supply. “I could see how much you missed the farm you grew up on, and I think you'd look great in a cowboy hat.”

Joel’s throat is tightening. “Thank you,” he says hoarsely.

The next item makes him frown. It's bright pink and slightly squishy and—

“A yoga mat,” he says. Mike snorts, hiding it behind his beer bottle.

“It matches mine!” He recalls the mat in your bedroom the day he helped you unpack your things. The tight black pants moulded to your ass. Do you want him to do yoga with you? “I know you've got a bad back, and it really helps reduce pain. Plus, flexibility is always important.”

Joel wants to bend you over that goddamn armrest and leave bruises on your ass in the shape of his fingerprints. You're awfully fucking bold, making him picture you folded in half and sweating, right in front of your father. But it's thoughtful. It really is. You want to help take away his pain, as if you don’t do that with every second you're in the same room as him. “Might have to teach me,” he says.

“I’m a fantastic teacher, luckily for you.” You clap your hands together and tuck them under your chin, and he's falling, listing, into a place he cannot crawl out of. “Open the last one.”

It’s in an envelope—whatever it is. Joel gently tugs out the piece of paper inside and reads it. The lump in his throat has migrated to his eyes, prickling the nerves behind his nose. “You named a star after me?”

“Shit,” says Mike. “I should've gone first.”

“It’s official and everything,” you tell him. “NASA has this program. I thought it might be cool to look up and know one of them belongs to you.”

He’s getting fucking soft with age. Joel clears his throat, his fingers trembling a little as he puts everything safely back in the bag and meets your gaze. He wishes Mike weren't here. He wishes he could pull you up against him and show you exactly how fast his heart is racing. You know him. You're so kind, so thoughtful, so bright. He doesn't deserve to have these things, but Jesus, he needs you so badly it aches. He doesn't just want you. He likes you. He’s excited by you and he’s nervous around you.

How can he simply move beyond a feeling like this? He doesn't think it’s possible for a person to walk past you on the street and simply forget. You demand attention. You deserve it.

“Thank you,” he says, because there's nothing else to say. He's a man of action. He will show you his gratitude. But it will have to wait, and so will he.

Your eyes twinkle, and somehow he knows that you're thinking the same thing. “Happy birthday, Joel.”

Mike's gift to him is a new toolkit, since his current one is approximately as old as you, and a new nine iron, “since your back will be on the mend soon and you can hit the course with me again.”

You wrinkle your nose. “You’re such a guy, Dad.��

“Yeah?” He pulls you into him, attacking your head and your cheeks with a flurry of kisses as you squeal with laughter. “That'll show you, smartass.”

Joel cannot ruin this. But he finds he doesn't have many reservations about ruining you for every other man you'll ever meet. He’s going to be selfish with you tonight. It’s his birthday, after all.

The doorbell chimes its broken melody, and you open the door to find an unfamiliar man staring down at you with a crooked smile on his face. He has shoulder-length dark hair and brown eyes, and he's wearing a denim jacket, holding up a six-pack of the same beer Joel and your father are drinking.

“Well, hello,” he says. He's certainly Texan.

“Hi,” you return politely, though it sounds a bit like a question. “I’m sorry, I don't think we’ve…”

“Sorry, darlin’. Tommy Miller.” He’s quick to shake your hand, and your brows shoot up. Now you know why you recognise that smile of his.

You can't help but grin up at him. Good looks must run in the family. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tommy.”

“You must be Mike’s girl.” He clicks his tongue, giving you a quick once-over. His eyes glimmer with something you can almost call mischief. “I like your dress.”

You lift your brows. “I like your double denim. Very with the times.”

“Tommy, stop harassing her,” says your father from behind you. “Good to see you, man.”

He and Tommy slap their palms together in a purely male handshake while you take the beer from him and hurry back to the kitchen. “Your brother’s here,” you tell Joel in a hushed voice. “Didn't tell me he was so handsome.”

He cocks his head to the side, leaning his hip on the counter. “Yeah? He tell you he liked your dress?”

“He did.”

“That's his favourite.” Joel steps closer to you and you have to tilt your chin up to see him better. “He once said that to a girl who was wearin’ pants.”

You let the laugh slip out before you can stop it. “He brought you beer.” You lift the case onto the counter. “He must be good for something.”

“Yeah.” A hand slips indecently between your thighs and two fingers snap the waistband of your panties (white and lacy, because you need to have a little fun). “Toyin’ around with what ain’t his,” he says gruffly.

You gasp, practically jumping back from him when your dad and Tommy enter the kitchen. If you look flushed or nervous, neither of them say a word. Joel hugs his brother. “Good of you to finally show up.”

“Jackass.” Tommy claps him hard on the back a couple times. “If I’d known such a pretty lady was here, I’d have dressed better.”

Your cheeks feel warm at his unabashed flirting. He’s not a lot younger than Joel, but he's certainly got the brashness of someone who is. Joel pulls him into a headlock while your father ruffles Tommy’s perfect hair. “If you flirt with my daughter, Miller, you’ll have to match your nice outfits to your bruises.”

Tommy laughs, wriggling out of the headlock and giving you a wink as he smooths his hair down. “I think I look good in black.”

Tommy’s always had a bark five times the size of his bite, but Joel isn't fond of the teasing. Sure, he knows it's only teasing, getting a rise out of his brother, but he doesn't like the way you blush for him. “All right, I’m calling in the food.” Mike picks up the receiver and points at Tommy. “Don’t think I don’t mean it, dickhead.”

Tommy lifts his hands in surrender and Joel shoves him in the side with an elbow for good measure. You sit back down with your pile of books, and the younger Miller lowers himself next to you, breaking your concentration with all his questioning and schmoozing.

Joel grits his teeth. If he can't get a fucking second alone with you tonight, he’ll burn up from the inside. He takes a swig of his beer to cool down as you politely entertain Tommy’s conversation. He’s sleeping in the guest room tonight because you offered to take the couch. It’s his birthday, you told Mike, and his back will thank him.

The rest of the party is pleasant. The guys eat wings while you pluck away at a caesar salad, refusing to get your hands dirty if you're touching your books all night. Tommy leaves around ten, and Joel and Mike are both somewhat drunk by the time midnight rolls around.

It’s two o’clock in the morning, no longer his birthday, when he sneaks downstairs. He feels mostly sober now, chugging back a glass of water at the sink. Mike’s been asleep for an hour or so, but you haven't. In fact, you're still working, sitting upright on the couch with the lamp on as you study. Joel’s stomach sinks. The salad from hours earlier is not even half-eaten. You’re yawning every minute, rubbing at your eyes as you attempt to finish your problem set.

You hear a noise from the kitchen and look up to find Joel standing, watching, at the counter. “Hi,” you say in a groggy voice.

“Oh, baby,” he says, meeting you at the couch and sitting next to you. His hand finds your thigh, at last, squeezing and kneading your flesh like he's wanted to do all night. It feels like victory: restraint paying off. It feels like his erratic heartbeat can finally settle. “You gotta sleep. This ain't healthy.”

“Chemistry doesn't sleep,” you say with a pout. He wants to nibble that pout right off your lips. Your eyes are lidded and reddish. “Looks like you don’t, either.”

Joel plucks the notebook out of your hands and sets it on the table. “Enough,” he says softly, his hand winding around your waist and resting on your lower back. He relishes the way your body melts, your shoulders sinking and your spine decompressing under his warm palm. “C’mere, baby.”

You go easily onto his lap, your dress bunching around your hips. His mere closeness raises goosebumps on your arms, your legs, his large hand caressing your right thigh. He was right; you're so fucking soft.

Your eyes blink sleepily at him, your fingers threading through his brown-silver locks. “I like your hair,” you whisper. “I like your eyes and your smile and your moustache.”

Joel’s hand finds the crease between your thigh and your hip. He rubs circles into your hip bone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your thumb traces his mouth, your touch so reverent even in your half-asleep haze, and he will never have enough of you. “Would feel so good… between my legs.”

His cock is stirring in his pants again, warmed by your telltale heat. “You know how hard it was not to touch you today?” He keeps his voice quiet, knowing Mike’s snoring away upstairs, knowing you're both playing with fire. “This fuckin’ dress. You wanted to tease me?”

“I wanted…” You gasp when he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. It swirls around his head and turns it fuzzy. You’re an aphrodisiac. “I wanted you to touch me. Just like this.”

He huffs into your throat, his strong nose guiding the path of his mouth. He cares little for caution when you smell the way you do— taste the way you do. His tongue darts out to place open-mouthed kisses up the veins in your throat, your pulse fluttering under his attention. You are the heady pull of closing eyes at dusk and the sweetness of dessert.

Your hips grind against his cock the more he kisses his way up your neck, your wet pussy soaking through your little white panties. You feel so much closer to him than the last time, his need thick and insistent against you. He reaches the spot below your ear, sucking at a spot that makes you clutch the back of his head and press him to you, your cunt slick with your arousal. He grunts into your skin, licking and nibbling your earlobe, marking your body as he sinks further into the senseless plane of desire and he forgets that he isn't supposed to be doing this.

“Joel,” you whisper, urging him back to look into his pitch-black eyes. “I want you to kiss me.”

No sane man can look into those sleep-soaked eyes and say no to you. He tips his chin up and presses his lips to yours. It's soft, gentle, and it feels like Rapture.

He cradles the back of your head and gently pries open your mouth for him to lick into, sliding his tongue along yours as your breathing shifts and little gasps pour like honey from your throat. This is what he needs. This is the line that will reel his soul back up from hell.

Your lips are soft and your skin burns for him. His hands become needier, bunching your dress higher up your hips so he can guide his fingers higher up your thighs, squeezing your ass and shifting to the juncture of your thighs. The white lace. He keeps your mouth against him as he toys with the waistband, feeling it give and slide under his touch.

Your sighs send blood surging down to his cock until there's nothing left in his brain. All he knows is finding a way to get more: drawing more of those noises from you, coaxing more pleasure out of your body, giving you so much of him that you’ll never want anyone else.

Joel groans softly into your mouth and breaks away to put his mouth to your jaw, your chin, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back so he can have better access to your throat.

“Oh, my—” Your eyes flutter shut when he licks a stripe up your throat, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, every mild touch electrifying your body.

He reaches your sternum, right above the neckline of this godforsaken dress, roughly tugging down the straps off your shoulders so he can finally— finally —see your pretty tits for himself. It isn't a dream this time. The dress pools around your waist, sitting on his lap in your father’s home, rocking your hips against his stiff cock and looking so fucking tired, so fucking beautiful, that he wants to sink right into you and become one. It’s the only way to cure this itch.

He can never be close enough.

“Joel.” Your fingers are still in his hair as he kisses all the way down your chest, a rough hand grasping your ribs and rubbing a thumb over your hard nipple. He’s taking his time exploring you, his hand secure around the base of your neck, the other adventuring across the planes and curves of you, indulging because he finally can. You let him, because it’s not his birthday anymore, but he’s been so patient. He's waited so long.

And fuck, it feels good. Every tweak of your nipples, every playful nibble and suck sends jolts of pleasure to your cunt, the only spot of you he hasn't yet admired. Joel’s mouth finds one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around it before he sucks it into his mouth. “Fuck.” It's more of a squeak this time, less of a whisper, and he squeezes your ribcage as if to stop your lungs from expanding, as if to say, Quiet.

“That feels good,” you gasp, your head falling back, the back of your neck still warmed by the press of his palm. “Dreamed about this.”

You're waking up, though still a bit groggy, with everything he gives you. He kisses his way back to the hollow of your throat and looks up at you with those deep brown eyes, glimmering silver in the moonlight. “So have I,” he says.

“You don't sleep.”

“No,” he agrees. The hand at your neck slides down to your lower back, to your ass, where he presses you down onto him. The graze of his zipper against your clit makes stars burst behind your eyes. Joel cocks his head. “Why do you think I can’t sleep lately, hmm? It’s because you wake me up. You and your body.” Another roll of your hips makes you drop your forehead to his. He tucks your hair behind your ear. “Can’t fuckin’ sleep when you're all I'm thinkin’ about, now, can I?”

You bite your lip, but this time, he can do something about it. He nudges his nose against your cheek and fits his mouth to yours. He dreams about you. He thinks of you. He wants you.

“I don’t sleep much, either,” you tell him when he lets you up for air.

“I know,” he says softly. You hold onto his wrist when he cups your face. “Such a thinker. You gotta let yourself go, baby. Let yourself feel.”

“I…” His cock is so hard. It’s a strong, thick pressure against your thigh, catching on your clit with each drag of your hips. You won't come like this again; you need him to feel good. “I want you in my mouth.”

You can feel him twitch against you, his pulse hammering against your mouth as you suck on his pressure point. “Jesus.” His hands fly to your hips. “Baby, I… Goddamn, we can’t… can’t risk it.”

He's right, of course. It doesn't stop you from grinding down against him and nibbling his lobe. “But it's your birthday.”

“Not—fuck, not anymore.”

“I want you to feel good,” you whisper, your breath hot against his cheek.

“Jesus Christ.” He pulls you away, looking you hard in the eyes. “When I fuck you, baby, I want to hear you. I want to make you scream. I can’t do that here.” His mouth seeks yours, slow and sweet. “Lie down.”

Your eyes close on instinct when he kisses you, but your confusion lingers. “What…”

“Lie down, and go to sleep.” He kisses your forehead, and it feels like finality. “Tomorrow night, when you get off work, I’m comin’ to pick you up.”

You shift reluctantly off his lap, resting your head on the arm of the couch and spreading your legs slightly so he can get a look at the wet patch on your panties. Your tired eyes are doe-like in the darkness. “And?” you ask, trailing your foot up his thigh.

“And…” His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, shucking them down your legs and leaving you bare underneath. You watch him with black eyes and a heaving chest as he stuffs your panties in his pocket. “I want you to wear that black thong you've got. You know the one I’m talkin’ about?”

You swallow. He’s seen your underwear collection? “Yes,” you say breathlessly.

“I never thanked you,” he whispers, bringing his fingers to your soaking wet cunt and spreading your folds open, “properly. That was one hell of a birthday gift, baby.”

You can’t help but smile. “I want you to be happy.”

Two fingers slide languidly through your wetness, making you twitch. “I’m real happy,” he says, “when you're with me.”

He brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean.

“Joel,” you whine, spreading your thighs wider, inviting him to touch you even though you know he can't. You know it's wrong.

“Tomorrow night.” He's tired of denying himself of you. He's tired of letting you go on thinking there isn't a soul in this world who's willing to fight for your affection. “Go to sleep.”

For good measure, he closes the textbook on the table and stands up, leaving you wet, wanting, and dreaming of the promise of tomorrow.

You’re quivering with anticipation when you hop up into the passenger’s seat in your little skirt and little black thong.

“Show me,” is how he greets you, his eyes sliding lazily toward you and taking in your whole body. His jaw ticks as you slip the hem of your skirt up above your hips and show him the scrap of lace tucked between your cheeks. Apparently satisfied, he pulls out of the parking lot and drives you to his home.

Inside, too impatient to bother flicking on the lights, he pushes you up against the front door and kisses you hard. His hands slide up your back as you wind your arms around his neck, your lips parting to welcome his tongue and feed your contented sighs into his mouth. Fuck, you're tense, your shoulders tight and your leg muscles strained from being on your feet all night. When his hands begin to wander, you have a feeling he knows exactly where you're hurting.

You whisper his name, passing it from your throat to his mouth, and you realise it's the first word either of you have spoken since you got in his truck tonight. He growls your name, not once letting you up for air as his hands feel up your arms, your spine, your ribs, the flare of your hips. He touches your body like it's marble, and kisses you like you're water: he could chip you away, and you could slip right through his fingers, but you're here, and he cups you so gently in his palm that the marble will not crack. The water will not drip.

All of the windows and doors are closed. All of the curtains are drawn, the lights off. But he wants you in his bedroom. He wants you where he knows the world will wait patiently outside a closed door and he’ll never have to worry about another soul seeing you the way he wants to see you tonight. He turns you around, backing you toward his room as you stumble to keep pace. All the while, his hands never leave your body, and his mouth never offers reprieve. His moustache and his beard scratch you, merciless, unrelenting.

Kicking the door shut behind him, Joel kisses you until your lips are swollen and your pupils are so wide they engulf your irises. He cradles your head in his hand, and you place your palm to his heart.

“You're wearing it,” you say with a grin. “The shirt I bought you.”

“Sorry I couldn't wear the hat.” Joel kisses his way from your cheek to your earlobe, nibbling slightly before he changes his trajectory downward.

“That's okay,” you sigh, holding him to you as he playfully bites your collarbone. “I want you naked, anyway.”

He chuckles into your neck. “You first.”

His hand finds your ass, squeezing roughly over your little skirt. “Teasin’ me,” he grunts, grabbing at the fabric, so blind with need that he can't think straight long enough to find the waistband. Instead, he’s pulling the skirt up and over your ass just to grab handfuls of your soft flesh. “Jesus, you're beautiful.”

“What did you do with them?” Your soft voice breaks in half when he snaps the band of your thong against your hip. “The panties you took.”

“You wanna know?” Joel finally yanks down your skirt, leaving you in your shirt and that pathetic black fabric barely covering your pussy. “I took out my cock and I jerked off into them. Came on your pretty white lace, thinkin’ about the way you looked last night.”

Your breathing stutters, your grip tightening around the collar of his flannel shirt. “Fuck. Take this off, please.”

So polite. So sweet. Joel clicks his tongue, backing you toward the bed. “Arms up,” he orders.

You obey so easily, letting him drag your shirt over your head. Joel unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, squeezing your tits in his rough hands and splaying his fingers over your ribcage. “I think about you,” he says lowly, “when I’m sleepin’. When I’m awake. When I’m supposed to be workin’. You have any idea how much company time you've lost me?”

You giggle, crowding him so you can press your lips to his throat. “You're your own boss. No such thing as company time.”

“Such a smart fuckin’ mouth.” He hooks his thumb in the band of your thong, his other hand grasping your chin. “You gonna be good and listen to me? Let me help you feel good?”

There's a change in your eyes. Pouring cold metal into a cast and watching it melt. Reshaping it into something soft, malleable, warm. “Yes, Joel.”

Fuck, if that doesn't send all of his blood soaring to his cock. Joel smiles down at you. “Take ‘em off, baby.”

You back away to give yourself enough room, looking right into his eyes as you make a show of sliding your thong down your legs, stepping out of it and lowering yourself onto the bed. He takes his eyes on a path over your stiff nipples, your pretty, glistening cunt on display for him. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and it makes you push your chest forward with a bit of pride knowing he likes you like this.

“My beautiful girl.” He steps close to you, nudging your legs open so he can stand between them. You're naked for him. You're on his bed, wet and wanting for him. There is no compromise when it comes to you: he cannot let another man see you like this. A selfish man guards his treasures. A selfish man does not want, because he does not give away what he has.

You sit primly on the edge, peering up at him with a pleading look in your eye. “Let me undress you.” You pop open a button on his shirt. “Please, Joel.”

He likes the sound of your begging, so he nods, allowing you to indulge, your fingers slipping the shirt off his broad shoulders. “So handsome,” you muse, dispensing with the flannel and putting your lips to his chest, his soft stomach, the freckles on his body that you've never been so lucky to see until now. He’s beautiful. He is the sum of years you've never seen, the experience of a man who's made his way in the world with his strong, capable body. He is the only man you ever want to know so intimately.

“Touch yourself,” he commands, backing away to take in the sight of your naked body. “Let me see you.”

And fuck, you want to make him so happy. You want to make him proud, make him feel good. Your hand slides leisurely down your body as you maintain eye contact, tracing the path from your sternum to your navel. His eyes look black in the darkness. You ease your thighs open, giving him a good view when you finally dip two fingers between your folds and bring them to your mouth, licking up your wetness. Slicked up with saliva, your fingers circle easily over your clit, your eyes fluttering and your head falling against the pillows.

“That feels good,” you tell him, pinching your nipple. “Fuck, Joel, I need you. I need you.”

“You’ll get me, sweetheart. Just keep goin’.” He likes watching, it seems, making you go a little crazy, making you teeter precariously on an edge you'll never tip over. You push two fingers inside your pussy, rubbing your palm against your clit. Your moan turns high-pitched, your core burning with need you cannot satiate. Not when he's so close, looking at you, forcing you to touch yourself when all you know is the fire only he can stoke.

But that's what he wants. He wants you to know that he’s got you liquified in the little pool in the palm of his hand. You're his. “You…” Rubbing your clit slowly, you try to meet his eyes even though yours are closing. “You get off on this? Sick bastard.”

Joel tuts. “Did I say to close your eyes?”

“Joel, I—”

“Keep. Your eyes. Open.” You increase your pace, your hips bucking a little into your hand, and peel your eyes open. “Keep ‘em on me. Just like that.”

“I need…” You sigh in frustration, trying to give him your best pitiful look even though you know it's fruitless. You’re putty in his hands. You'll touch yourself for as long as he wants you to, even if you never come. “I need…”

“Say it,” he says, and you hate how soft he sounds. The kiss of a warm breeze at nighttime, the silvery wisps of air that curl up from between lips at the intake of the cigarette smoke. He coaxes you, coos at you, and it could be mocking, if he didn't like you so damn much. “Say what you need, baby.”

“I need to come, Joel. I need you. Fuck, I need you to touch me. I’ll… I’ll die if you don't touch me.”

Joel lifts his brows. Spoiled. You’re fucking spoiled and it's all his fault. It's your fault he's so hard, close to ripping a seam in his goddamn jeans, his cock throbbing and leaking precum. “Tell me why you're so fuckin’ wet. Tell me why you're cryin’.”

“You!” Head tossed back on the pillows. Eyes barely open, tears blurring your vision. Fingers frantically rubbing your poor clit to no avail. “You, Joel. You. It’s you. I’m yours.”

That.

That's what he wanted to fucking hear.

Joel unzips his jeans and disposes of them so fast it's like they're ablaze. Your fingers slow their relentless pace on your clit to watch his thick, hard cock slap up against his stomach. “No underwear?” you rasp. “That’s a little whorish of you, Mr. Miller.”

Joel grabs your ankle and manoeuvres you so you're lying flat on your back. You yelp, arousal shooting pants of pleasure through your body at his manhandling. “You wanna fuckin’ talk?” he grunts, crawling onto the bed and situating himself between your legs just so he can bite down on the flesh of your inner thigh. Your whole body jolts with shock.

He holds firmly into your thighs, leaving wet kisses from your navel to your needy clit. It's where he's wanted to be since the first fantasy. The first dream. The first sight. You look down at him, silver locks of hair shining in the darkness, and your gaze is so reverent that his heart wants to beat its wings and unshackle itself. A heart cannot be contained with a look like that—it must go free. It must expand.

Your fingers thread gently through his hair, and it’s all the affirmation he needs. Somewhere in the air between you, two hands lock, and two souls intertwine.

His tongue is hot between your slick folds. There are already tears in your eyes from your teasing, but it's something different altogether when Joel’s mouth finds your clit. The pleasure is so hot it freezes your veins. You're locked in place, the space between your brows creasing, your mouth falling open, as he flicks his tongue against your clit.

Defibrillator. Each measured lick is a patch wrapped around a rib, a nerve, a muscle. Each administration hurls you through space. You're crashing into the stars on the way, bright white flashing behind your eyes.

Tactile. The scratch of his beard and moustache rubs your soft skin raw. Your smell, your taste, tang and potency and the nectar of your sweet, soft gasps. He's spreading you open on a banquet table. He's licking into your cunt and making you mewl like a whore. He’s making you feel so good, so wanted, so happy.

He can't be going to hell. Hell is not the taste of you. Hell is not the way you fist his hair or cry his name. Hell is not—has never been—your face, your body, your voice. Hell does not know the shape of you.

This is the other place.

His tongue circles your slick entrance, but it does not push past. Not yet. He moves back up toward your clit, dragging his tongue across each electrified nerve over and over and over—

His fingers bruise your thighs. His grip does not relent. Neither does yours. You cry his name, wet and gasping, a drowning woman seeking the muffled, distorted light above the surface. Joel’s lips seal around your clit, sucking and lapping at the rest of you until you're shaking and he can barely hold on.

He does not stop when your orgasm crests. When your chest heaves in a ragged moan that sounds like pulling an open wound over broken piano strings. When your body stiffens, then relaxes, riding out the rhythm like a heartbeat as you come with such force that the pleasure has nowhere to go. Only up. Up. Up—

He isn't stopping. He's closed his eyes, drowning your anchor, forcing you to squeeze your own shut. He keeps going —licking broad stripes through your pussy, making out with it like he's fucking drunk off the taste of you.

He’s drunk. He registers your orgasm, but he does not register that he needs to pull back, let you rest, fit his cock inside you to relieve his own arousal. He can hear your weak, whimpering cries, can feel the way you jerk against him when his nose nudges your sensitive clit. He cannot grasp anything except this. You taste so fucking good. You taste like relief. You taste like all the chances he wants to take.

“Joel, I…” You're so weak you can barely speak, pushing him closer to your cunt, letting him take you even though you're not sure you can—

“Oh, fuck!” Your thighs tremble as you come a second time under his expert tongue. Joel grunts, apparently satisfied this time, finally lifting his head up from between your legs and pressing kisses from your thighs to your calves. He lifts himself up to his knees, securing your thighs around his hips.

His cockhead taps your cunt, a small puddle of precum gathering on your pretty clit. Just because he can, he grabs the base of his cock and smears the pearly white liquid over your pussy, notching himself at your hole.

You catch a glimpse of how his girth dwarfs your tight entrance and your eyes widen. “Joel… you’re…”

“I know,” he says. “You gonna be okay?”

A steely determination settles in the crease of your brow, and you hug your thighs tighter around his hips. “I can take it.”

That's his girl. Joel pushes his hips forward, watching your hole seal over the head, wet and fucking warm. “Jesus,” he mutters. Your head falls back and your eyes flutter.

“Focus right here, baby,” he says, patting your cheek. You struggle to keep your eyes open, looking right into his as he feeds his cock into you.

You gasp, blinking away tears as he bottoms out, so thick and heavy you can feel him in your belly. And he’s so smug, the bastard, giving you that wicked smirk. When he rolls his hips, pushing the head of his cock so deep that it kisses your womb, you choke on your moan. “You’re… such an… asshole.”

“Tell me all about it,” he says, securing his hand on the back of your thigh and pushing it toward your chest. The angle deepens, stars soaring across your vision, and he begins to fuck you.

It's the cloying haze of ecstasy. Being inside you burns holes through him, cigarettes on skin. He's vaguely aware of the slick noises his cock draws from your wet pussy, the slam of the headboard against the wall as he fucks you into the mattress. His back pinches in pain and he knows he'll feel it tomorrow, but you look so cock-drunk, your head lolling and your eyes rolling back, that he can't bring himself to care.

Your hands claw at his chest, his shoulders, trying to pull him down toward you even though your leg is bent back toward your head. He gives you a moment of reprieve to lean over you, his hand braced next to your head and his mouth slanting over yours. You hum happily, your fingers scratching at the nape of his neck, and he will do anything—anything—to make you feel good.

In a flash, he twists your leg so you're on your stomach, then hauls you up by your hips so you're on your hands and knees, all without pulling out of you. “Joel!” you squeak.

“Fuck. This body.” He slides one hand up your spine as he slams into you from behind, gritting his teeth and pummeling your ass with his hips. “This tight… fuckin’… body.”

“Ah, fuck—” Your body jolts forward and Joel grabs the headboard just to steady you, stopping it from slamming against the wall. He slips his hand around your chest and hauls your body up against his, lavishing your throat with his hot mouth. “Joellllll,” you whine.

“Feel good, baby?” he grunts, grinding his cock deep. You cry out, your hands blindly grasping behind you for a purchase on his hips.

“So— fuck! —so good. You’re so big.” The breathless praise fills his head with air, ballooning his ego, making him pull you closer.

“You can take it,” he says into your ear, the rhythm of his thrusts perfectly attuned to the response of your body. He's learned you, mapped you, and you're all for him.

You gasp his name, your head turning to bite down on his bicep as he fucks you so thoroughly that your brain is liquifying to warm honey. Joel grits his teeth at the twinge of pain, his balls pulling up as his orgasm nears. “That’s it, baby,” he pants, letting your upper half bend back down onto the mattress so he can rub your clit.

“Oh! Yes, yes, yes.” Your hands flex against the sheets, wrinkling them between your fingers as your cheek presses into the mattress. The rippling of your ass with every slap of his balls against your clit is a delicious sight, and the way your thighs tremble only makes his hips stutter. He’s going to come. He’s…

Your pussy clenches around him, your whole body seizing as you come on his cock, pushing out a weak cry. “Joel, I… oh, fuck.”

“I got you, baby. It’s okay. Let go; that's a good girl.” He removes his fingers from your clit when you begin to buck and cry from the overstimulation, his hand leaving the headboard to grab your hips. Now, he can fuck you hard and fast, your body limp and pliant underneath him. “Just let me… shit, let me… gotta—”

Your gasps are wet and your cheeks are drying from your tears. “Oh, my—” Your mouth drops open at his relentless pummeling. “Oh, shit!”

He feels the telltale splatter of wetness on his balls and his thighs before he registers that you're coming again. Your body shakes without abandon, your eyes squeezing shut and your pussy sucking him deeper, deeper still. It’s loud and smacking and slick in his ears, and he loses his goddamn mind.

His orgasm pinches every nerve in his back without warning. He groans, fisting your hair, instinctively pushing his hips flush to your ass and drowning your cunt in his hot cum.

“Goddamn… shit. Jesus.” He covers your body with his, his forehead pressed to the space between your sweat-slick shoulder blades. You can feel his breath puffing out against your skin.

“Joel,” you moan weakly, your knees close to giving out, your hips aching.

“Fuck. Fuck, baby, I’m sorry.” He hauls himself upright and pulls out, his cock pulsing at the sight of his cum dripping out of your used hole. “I came inside you.”

“I can feel it,” comes your muffled giggle, wiggling your ass at him. “I’m on the pill.”

He collapses next to you, tucking you into his side, his nose nudging yours before he slots his mouth over yours. You kiss him happily, sleepily, draping your arm over his broad chest. “Gotta clean you up,” he grumbles into your mouth. “Made a fuckin’ mess.”

You put your lips to the corner of his mouth, the patches in his beard, smiling against his cheek. “Shouldn't have manhandled me so good, then.”

Joel chuckles, smacking your ass. “Funny girl. C’mon, get up.”

You huff, taking his hand as he helps you off the bed, catching you around the waist when your knees give out. “Easy,” he laughs.

“Your fault.” You steady yourself by holding onto his arm as he takes you into his bathroom. “You took me by surprise. Didn't think an old man could fuck like that.”

“Smartass.” Joel gives your ass another slap and closes you both inside. He wets a washcloth and wipes it between your thighs, enjoying the little whimper that leaves your mouth when it drags over your puffy clit. “Almost done, baby.”

He cleans up the cum that has dripped out of your hole and your own wetness, leaning in to kiss you softly when he's finished. You smooth his hair back, smiling fondly at his tousled appearance, the way he looks so relaxed, so calm. “I like you like this.”

“Yeah?” He lifts a brow, observing the marks you've left on him through the mirror. “Scratched up like a goddamn cat post?”

“Couldn't help it.” You lean into him and press gentle little kisses to the crescents and red marks on his chest and shoulders. “Now those other ladies knocking down your door will know you're not up for grabs.”

“You tell me where those ladies are first, and I’ll give ‘em a piece of my mind,” he chuckles, roaming his hands up and down your arms. “I’ve certainly never seen ‘em before.”

“Well, we women have a secret code,” you tell him. “A girl can tell. You're a hot commodity around here. Big, strong, tall, working man…”

His ego is getting a little overinflated at the ministrations of your sweet voice. He rubs his thumbs over your hip bones and shuts you up with a kiss. “Anyone ever tell you you're trouble?” he mumbles into your mouth.

“Mmmhmm,” you reply. “But you can handle it.”

Goddamn right I can.

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #whiskey sour #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou hbo

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idyllcy · 7 months

Text

and baby, if you knew

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of the night before (?), morning after, hickies (?)

summary: oh the horrors of getting caught the morning after (pt2 of saying we're just friends)

You stare at yourself in the mirror, blinking incredulously. (Partially out of pure shock, partially because sleeping with your contacts on was NOT a smart decision on your end)

Holy fuck, Tim got mouthy with you.

You tilt your neck to brush your fingers over the hickeys, gawking at the way it trails down your neck and collar to your chest, the purple popping on your skin. Sure, you weren't half as pale as Tim was, but hello? You didn't even bring concealer. You weren't expecting him to take you to the Wayne Manor.

"Tim." You swallow, grimacing.

Tim raises a brow, shirt pulled halfway over his head.

"How many hickeys did you give me? Do you have a whisk? Do you have ice? Are you secretly a vampire???"

"One question at a time, lovely." he mumbles. "Seven. There's a whisk and ice downstairs. I am not secretly a vampire, although I can see why you'd guess that."

You blink at him. "Do you have a collared shirt?"

"Just settle for one of my shirts for now." He pulls the shirt over his head, tossing you the other one in the bed.

"Please tell me it's not sheer."

"It's not."

"Thank GOD you're rich." You mumble. "It's a blessing to have non-sheer white shirts."

"Yeah, I get that." He mumbles. "Come on. Alfred called us for breakfast a little ago."

"Which one of your siblings are here?"

"We'll see." Tim hums, shutting the door to his room. (All of them are downstairs, likely. They were probably having a post-valentine debriefing like they usually do. Bruce was not spared from it.)

You duck behind Tim when you notice everyone having breakfast.

"You said we'll see! Are none of them staying with the people they were out with last night?!"

"It happens every year." Tim hums, holding his hand out for you. "Come on. Don't do the walk of shame."

"Seriously. I run a stan account for you and live in my dorm. I'm practically a hermit." You deadpan. "I am NOT cut out to be meeting your family this early in the morning."

"Master Tim, young miss. Are you ready for breakfast? We are having pancakes."

"Just kidding I would kill for pancakes right now." You mumble, following behind Tim as he sits you next to him.

All eyes are on you as you adjust the collar of your shirt, the tag scratching against your skin, the hickeys on your neck visible. You thank Alfred as he places a plate before you, and you start at the chocolate chip pancakes. Holy shit, fuck the eyes on you, this was heaven.

"Alfred, do you have a recipe book?" You blink at him, eyes wide in admiration.

"Which recipe would you like, young miss?"

"Oh, all of them if possible. I'd love to be able to cook half as well as you can." You hum, taking another bite of your food. "Do you have a digital copy?"

"Unfortunately, all of it is on paper or in here." He smiles, tapping his brain. "But I am more than willing to provide you with any recipes you may like."

"Mm!" You shove the last piece of the pancake into your mouth, swallowing as you get up. "Tim, do you have a laptop? I want to type a couple recipes down and transcribe what's on paper—"

"Pull open the drawer to your left." He hums.

You pull it open, blinking at him.

"There's a false bottom in it. One of my spare laptops is in it. The password is a combination of letters." He hums.

"With significance?"

"Yes."

"Oh, then I know an approximation, then." You hum, working your finger into the side as you prop it open, pulling his laptop out. "Is it our birthdays?"

"Wait, how did she–" Dick's cut off when you manage to open it on your first try.

"Alright. I'm gonna go! I'll be with Alfred if you need anything." You smile.

"She just?" Duke blinks incredulously. "Did she just hack open your laptop on her first try? Is she in compsci like you?"

"English." Tim grabs a couple pancakes, cutting off a piece of butter. "Creative writing, technically."

"Oh, is she making her own major?"

"Yes." Tim hums. "I don't actually know how she guessed that it would be our birthdays since I only changed it a little while ago. It'd be easier to open if it was just our birthdays combined. Maybe she was stalking me."

"Or, maybe all the years of running a Robin Twitter account finally paid off." Jason shrugs. "She's quite a big writer on the internet too, you know?"

"Yeah." Tim hums. "She's quite the character. Have you read her works?"

"I have." Damian speaks up. "Her writing resembles poetry, pulling on the strings of your heart and snapping them at moments you least expect."

"You've read her works?!" Tim raises a brow at Damian. "That's surprising."

"She resembles the poets."

"She'd love to hear that come out of your mouth for sure." Tim mumbles. "Anything else I should know?"

"She covered me for change once while I went to buy cup noodles." Cass mumbles.

"I'm mutuals with her on Twitter?" Steph points.

"Okay, that's not the point. Timmy." Dick deadpans. "Did you sleep with her last night?"

"Sex or just plain sleeping? Because we did both—"

"I DIDN'T GET TO GIVE YOU THE SHOVEL TALK!" Dick cries. "Okay, when a man and a—"

"Dick, I'm well over into the ages of a legal adult." Tim sighs. "Besides, I'm like seventy percent sure that you gave me the shovel talk when you first found out I was dating Ari in high school. Also, I got one from my dad and Bruce, so I think I'm good."

"Oh, right." Dick mumbles. "But still."

Steph pauses. "Does she want a whisk?"

"She was asking for one earlier." Tim hums.

"We'll go help." Cass mumbles, getting out of the seat, dragging Steph.

"Okay, Tim. Is she the one who was making you all red and blushy during Christmas?" Dick slides closer to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

"Yes." Tim sighs, batting Dick's hand away. "She was."

"How'd you ask her out?"

"Told her if she had nothing to do on Valentine's, then she could stick with me and I could plan a date." Tim reaches for another pancake.

"And she agreed?" Jason snorts. "Wow. She's way out of your league."

"Yeah, but at least I got B's absolutely insane ability to pull." He mumbles. "Pulled way out of my league, for sure."

"If you fumble her I fear the things that will happen to you, Drake." Damian clicks his tongue.

"Do I... know her?"

"Duke," Damian sighs. "You're smarter than this."

"He's messing with you right now." Jason pours himself another cup of coffee.

"What's your relationship with her." Tim deadpans.

"She used to peer review my poems." He hums. "It didn't click until Damian showed me her information this morning, though."

"You just let them go through my girlfriend's personal information?!" Tim finally looks at Bruce, who only gives him a shrug.

"No harm in knowing a little more about your girlfriend."

"I swear, if you bring her in on the vigilantism—"

"That's not happening. I can promise that." Bruce glances at his almost empty mug. "Does she know?"

"She called me out for being Red Robin last night in the car." Tim sighs. "Besides, it'd be strange if she didn't notice immediately how similar Red Robin and I's voices are."

"She's been running your account for how long... now?" Bruce motions for Jason to pass him the coffee.

"Since middle school, so like..." Tim pauses. "Give or take seven years."

"That's a long time." Dick mumbles. "My longest-running fanpage is only six-ish years."

"If you count the Gotham Gazette, then I've been running for the longest." Bruce snorts. "Is she the one?"

"I think she is." Tim smiles. "And if she's not..."

"Then I will personally see the end of your life, Drake." Damian grumbles. "I shall have mother adopt her and have her write poetry for me in exchange for a living space and food. She shall be the equivalent of a court poet except to mother and I."

"I honestly think she wouldn't turn that down." Tim grimaces.

"Is she that desperate?"

"She's joked about sleeping with a millionaire to make some money." Tim grimaces. "Something something desperate situations call for desperate measures."

"She would love it in mother's mansion, then." Damian hums, sipping on his tea. "I shall have her write a poem for your death. It shall be my last mercy."

Tim grimaces. "What if she breaks up with me?"

"Then you're in the fault, obviously." Jason mumbles, looking at his phone.

"So it's my fault regardless of what happens?"

"Listen, her tweets are unhinged. You can't say you like crazy girls and then get annoyed when you date one and she acts insane." Jason grumbles.

"He's got a point, Timmers." Dick hums. "I hope it works out for the best, regardless of the ending."

"Twenty bucks they are endgame." Damian mumbles.

"Alfred bet ten that Tim would pop the ring."

"Ugh, come on. You know no one out-bets Alfred." Dick groans. "Did he set up the jar?"

"He did. This morning." Duke hums. "I put my bet in too."

"Come on–"

"You can't say shit when you bet on all of our relationships and pretty much came out unscathed in all of them." Jason glares. "Shut it."

Tim rolls his eyes, surrendering himself to the idea that his relationship would get bet on.

"Tim, can I marry your sisters?" You come out of the kitchen, eyes sparkling.

"We're dating." He sighs. "Pretty bird—"

"EWWWWWWW" A mixture of faked hurls and gags are heard in unison as Tim rolls his eyes.

"Ignore them. Why do you want my sisters?"

"The hickeys are all," You pull your shirt down too to show your cleavage, the hickeys no longer visible, "gone! Your sisters are really good at this."

"Yeah..." Tim sighs, reaching to pull your shirt back up. "Steph isn't my sister, by the way."

"Oh, yes, I know." You smile. "After all, if she was, it'd be strange that you've dated her before."

Tim chokes on the air at your statement.

"Besides, she's my mutual." You hum. "I also got Alfred's recipes, by the way." You hum, smile on your face. "I also got his chocolate chip cookie recipe, though I need to figure out what the secret ingredient is."

"A dash of vanilla extract." Tim lowers his voice. "Don't tell the rest of the family."

"Got it." You give him a thumbs up.

"Do you cook?" Damian speaks up.

"I do! Mainly ethnic foods, since there isn't much of that here in Gotham." You mumble. "Got any good Chinese places?"

"Oh, there's this place on Seventh Ave and Jester." Bruce speaks up. "I used to get dim sum there. It's only open from eight to twelve, and you need to get in via reservation. Feel free to borrow my name whenever. Just make sure to invite me."

"Uncle Dan's, right?" You beam. "I went there a while back with another friend, but I miss like... the dim sum that's messy and chaotic in the morning."

"Oh, then try the one on Lightbeam." Dick pauses. "Ah, what was the other street?"

"Oh, that one's good." Duke agrees. "Sam Woo's Dim Sum and BBQ."

"I've had that too!" You smile. "They're good, just quite a while from the university."

"If you really want something good," Cass speaks up from behind you, "try Jin."

"Jin?"

"It's smaller, but it's family-run, and it's been doing business in Gotham for three generations already." Cass hums. "They're called Jin, but the Chinese character for gold. They're right by Gotham U too. On the corner by Circle K."

"The sketchy looking alley??" You blink.

"Yes, but their dumplings are to die for." She pauses. "And they sell in bulk if you want to boil any in your dorm."

"Tim, I want your sister."

"Pretty bird, we just started going out." He clicks his tongue.

"Tim, if you break her heart, I will date her." Cass blinks.

"You can visit her when she stays in mother's mansion."

"Hm?" You turn to blink at Damian.

"Ignore him—"

"Should you and Drake break up, I have already arranged your living arrangements, should you agree to it."

"And what might they be?" You hand the laptop to Tim, pointing at the document you shared with yourself.

"With my mother. Your only job shall be to write poems and short stories to entertain her."

"Living and writing for the Talia Al Ghul? Count me in." You sigh dreamily.

"Alright." Tim shuts the laptop after changing the password. "We're going to get going before her roommate calls the cops on her."

"Oh, right!" You mumble. "It was a pleasure meeting you all! I hope to see you again sometime?"

"Tim, send her number in the chat later!" Dick calls as Tim pulls you out.

"Sorry, they're quite embarrassing." Tim mumbles.

"They're warm." You smile. "I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

Tim sighs in relief at the look of fondness on your face. Right.

You'll be fine.

#1: I wrote this in a frenzy in like 3 ish hours?#2: i've been awake for 20 hours at this point. yay.#someone needs to put me into like a medically induced coma so I can sleep properly or smth #ok anyways #THIS ONE'S FOR YOU ANON!!!#Tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #tim drake imagine #red robin imagine #ugh I'm pushign everything in the queue back for this ughhhHHHHHHHH nvm I'm queuing this gn I'll see u when this posts on uhhh idk #☾.fics

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weirdworldofwinnie · 5 months

Text

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Six: Lover's Games

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only

Summary: You feel a need to follow up with Ernest Lawrence, much to Robert's dismay, and also uncover buried information that makes you turn rather rebellious.

Word Count: ~7,592

Warnings: Martial angst, infidelity, age gap, unwanted advances, slight physical violence, period stereotypical gender roles, clothed sex, some orgasm denial and sexual humiliation

Usual disclaimers apply, obviously NOT based on complete real life historical accuracy. It is essentially very much a dramatization and AU fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer, Josh Hartnett as Ernest Lawrence, Jack Quaid as Richard Feynman, etc. from the film only while other characters are my own entirely made up ones!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Tag List: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple, @irenethewoman, @uniquetacofun, @noirrose21-blog, @gridmouse86, @lacontroller1991, @kishie8, @anime-lover-forever-1127

If you'd like to be added to the list, let me know please.

June 1943

You waited a couple of weeks after the party to move past the point of just taking actual action only in consideration in the sense of springing a scheme by meeting up with Lawrence, keeping Robert under the radar all the while and he himself was certainly distant, (distracted by work of course) but also deliberately choosing to give you space. It was fine, but it made you uneasy of how much he was extracting his emotions and you were starting to feel as if you were on a carpet of thin eggshells every moment you and him were alone together, which was usually only at night sleeping in the same bed.

Weekday dinners were a polite affair as well and you mostly ate for yourself, him eating a portion of his plate before he went to shut himself in his designated office room and came to bed hours into the wee morning. He was gone longer now during the day and one early evening, you found yourself cleaning the house alone with no company or pressing responsibilities to attend to, and you went into his office, rearranging his paperwork and dusting the bookshelves when you decided to take a peek into his desk, knowing he kept many personal writings there. Perhaps a poem or musing that could give an indication of what was happening inside his brain and why you were hitting a cold patch in the marriage.

After sifting through many documents, discarded calculations, and correspondence letters, you finally found his dearest belongings buried in the bottom drawer. You knew several of these, for they were cards - birthday, anniversary, well-wishers from the wedding - and some of your own (love poems, really) that you had exchanged with him and even simple notes of wanting to meet for dinner, a party, vacation at his Perro Caliente ranch, anything that merited invitation. You grew teary at a few, oddly nostalgic even though it was only a couple of years ago. But this project had somehow changed everything out of alignment.

A thin stack of folded papers wedged in-between a Valentine's Day card from you last year and inside an envelope that had a wax heart the color of dried blood stamped on it caught your attention and you carefully peeled the corners back to extract the papers, which looked to be three separate pieces creased into halves. You took the one on top and unfolded it to reveal a letter. It had no formal or informal greeting and you blinked, reading the words in your husband's scrawling cursive handwriting. The first few lines seemed more like a diary entry than anything else until you read further...

Well, I am wearier lately than anyone could possibly guess because I have grown adept at adopting a mask of confidence and optimism. But it is a foolish man's desire to remain unchanged and hopeful in his situations that require more than words to express... I know you understand the moody tides well, my love, and I often wonder if you are feeling the bluing void edging on again as you often do, verging on the whole of complete consumption. Though it would be more appropriate to call it black as death itself; blue has been wrongly shamed in this case, although you could drown in my eyes.

Safe to say, I very much miss your presence and touch, the way you find comfort in me as if we are beyond mortal man and woman. Naturally, there are other parts of me that yearn for you as well, but I'm sure you could pinpoint exactly what. It wouldn't be proper to state it here, although I will never be sending this to you Jean. I sincerely hope you never read this because if you do, that means the war is ongoing and I have not evolved past this spout of melancholy. It is hard to determine the future when oneself is so pegged on the past and present... I feel as though I am stuck between the slides. How do I let myself be with you and yet here all at once? You feel light years away from me, though it is only a mere thousand miles, isn't it? I feel closer to the dying stars than compared to my active obligations here on Earth.

"Don't be an idiot, Robert, and alienate the few people who most understand you because one day you might need them." I can hear you say it now and I'm afraid I did exactly that to you but for reasons more monumental than myself. I thank you for being understanding over the phone, but I must remain in this slide while you are busy in your own microcosm of the world and it is easier to miss you, but I should place a bet against myself to see exactly how long this separation lasts. If you'll have me, I look forward to loving you in two or three year's time. I hope by then I do not fall out of the concept of love entirely and with an expiration date instead because that would be a tremendous dissatisfaction if you found another bull who could never match my (nor your) intellect. He would never deserve such a naughty angel as yourself and I myself won't let you linger past my mind too much longer, I promise.

Forever yours (or not, though I hope the prior),

Robert

He had added a postscript, written in original Sanskrit from The Bhagavad Gita and you squinted, seeing familiarity. You jumped up and went to the bookshelves, seeking out his copy and thumbing through the pages, finding the scripture that matched his handwriting and you recognized the passage as he had shown and translated it to you once.

And now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.

Why the fuck would he add that in as a PS in a pining love letter to his ex-girlfriend?

You put the book back and went to sit down on the floor beside his desk with the letter and other ones, which you dreaded opening in case they were more in the tone of lovesickness about Jean. You felt stunned and yet at the same time, unsurprised as if this was to be expected and maybe it was. It further proved that Robert hadn't completely emotionally filed Jean away as you'd thought and was planning on loving her again someday... Or he had just been really, really drunk when he composed this, but you highly doubted it.

Hands shaking, you set that letter aside gingerly as if it contained a deadly chemical and picked up a second folded piece of paper. When you opened it, you audibly gasped.

My Kitty,

I do hope you are well and pursuing a better life for yourself in the useful field of biology. Forgive me, I must be ridden with a fever, but wouldn't it be fortuitous if we perchance crossed paths in San Francisco one summer day? My flamboyant impossible imagination has flooded me again, so I'll indulge here: I'd see you out shopping and hopefully you would be with only female company (I take it your husband would be working, unless you have divorced) and we could strike up a conversation that led us to my Cadillac parked in the shadows of the shade, and I'd let you take refuge from the heat as my passenger and then I'd take your beautiful hand...

He had deeply scratched out the rest, but you could definitely make out a few lines of erotic poetry. In reaction, you bit your bottom lip so hard you nearly drew blood, and then reached for the last one, which was not a letter in the traditional sense, but more of a hastily scribbled note on an index card.

I need to see you soon. From one 'R' to another, you always have me at my truest regards.

You angrily swore aloud and started crumple this note, but paused. If you confronted him about it, this could blow up for both of you and you couldn't have that right now in the midst of life here for the project. No one was or could get divorced, that was not an option. No, you had to keep this secret and try to get back at him more stealthily. Robert clearly loved other women too much, that was it, and this was tangible of that. Enough was enough and it spurred on you to see the fellow you'd been avoiding since the party.

The next day, you went to Technical Area 1 and walked towards one of lab buildings, immediately noticed by the soldiers on guard and they came over, shaking their heads at you and your security clearance button, lower than permitted in such a site. You'd had to sweet talk your way just past the fencing to get to this point, but these particular hardened men didn't look swayable.

"I need to speak with my husband, it's urgent. Please," you begged dramatically, wringing your hands, and the men glanced at one another.

"He's preoccupied with his colleagues now, but we'll be sure to let him know about whatever it is, Mrs. Oppenheimer."

You pursed your lips, realizing they weren't going to let you just waltz into the building without an extremely good excuse, which you couldn't say.

"Fine. Good day, sirs." You walked far away from them and they went back to their business as you glanced around inconspicuously for an alternative entrance, going to another side. You found an unoccupied back door and hurried towards it, heart picking up pace.

"What are you doing?" a male voice called shrewdly from nearby behind.

"Shit," you muttered, whipping around to see a very suspicious Officer Nichols standing several feet away. Thankfully though, he was solitary.

"I'll have to report this, you know," he warned as you backed towards the shut door, forcing a big smile.

"Or what? You'll shoot me for finding my own husband?"

"Depends on the context. Dr. Oppenheimer is a very busy man and I'm sure he has much better to do with his limited time than to entertain his diligent token housewife."

You flushed angrily, feeling for the doorknob and of course it was locked.

"I swear to God I'm not doing anything else but speaking to him. I hardly know squat about quantum mechanics and the nature of his work," you lied, trying to appear absolutely innocent.

"Then what is so important you need to interrupt proceedings?" Officer Nichols asked sharply, coming closer.

"It's a highly urgent personal matter."

"I see." He paused, darting his eyes up and down the length of your body for a second before he spoke curiously.

"You haven't physically left The Hill since your arrival, is that correct?"

"Yes...?" you replied, unsure of where he was going with this.

Nichols stared at you for a moment through his glasses glinting in the midday sun and you looked back, locked in a strange thirty second unnerving silence of equilibrium. Finally he moved, stepping forward and nodding.

"I'll personally make sure that you never do."

"But no, I... I was planning on going shopping for supplies with some of the ladies this weekend in Santa Fe?"

He was silent and you were surprised when he took out a ringlet of keys, going to unlock the door.

"We all must make sacrifices, Mrs. Oppenheimer, and I'm sure your husband would agree. This is your reward for the loss of such a privilege, so go now before I change my mind and report you to General Groves."

You quickly darted inside without a backward glance, heart thudding in aftermath of the interaction. Did he really mean that? Would he get in trouble if someone found out? Or more importantly, would you get in a tight spot for sneaking around?

You strode through the maze of hallways past lab rooms, offices, and the like until you heard dull voices up ahead and saw Robert's back, face to the chalkboard, through a half-cracked door. The scientists turned to stare when they heard your heels come to a halt in the doorway, looking away from their paperwork and the blackboard. The awkward silence was deafening; a pin could drop at any moment and a man coughed, just to relieve the stagnant air. The lone female physicist of the group, Dr. Lilli Hornig, gave you a curious look with a quick polite smile as she scribbled something on a piece of paper. Robert froze with a cigarette in one hand and a piece of whittled chalk in the other, his blues boring into your face out of sheer shock.

"Y/N, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"No. I merely need to borrow that man right there for a moment of time. It's a personal matter," you announced crisply, pointing straight at Ernest Lawrence, whose expression morphed from surprise and to utter bemusement.

"Excuse me, then," he muttered and stood up, shuffling papers self consciously before making his way to you, moving down the hallway. You randomly led him to an empty storage room and opened the door, lightly pushing him inside.

"What are you doing?" he asked empathically as you faced him in the middle of the room, steadying yourself as you looked up at him, unaccustomed to being so close to a man considerably taller and bulkier than Robert's physicalie.

"Remember a couple weeks ago in May at last month's party?" you asked briskly and his brow furrowed in realization.

"Admittedly, not as much as I should. Oppie jokingly mentioned the next day afterwards about needing to restrict the amount liquor we're consuming at the house when you're hosting because we're not frat boys," he replied with an honest shrug.

"Do you recall that kiss you gave me out of the blue?"

His face flexed, eyebrows shooting up as his mouth twitched in guilty humor and you narrowed your eyes.

"Yes, perhaps a bit of it. In my defense though, I wasn't quite all there and there was talk going around, silly talk. I was dared into doing it, actually."

Now your own eyebrows mimicked his at this confession and you stepped closer, toe-to-toe with his shoes.

"Who dared you?"

"Promise to keep it to yourself?"

"Sure."

"Richard was the instigator and then the rest of the guys coaxed him on. Absolute ridiculousness we never would have done otherwise, I swear to you it's the high altitude of this place having an effect on our immature raucous behavior combined with alcohol."

"Feynman? The rascal, I could've guessed," you rolled your eyes disapprovingly and he sighed, shifting slightly on his feet.

"I really do apologize for the regrettable behavior, I sincerely promise it won't happen again," he told you seriously and you cocked your head slightly, giving him a once-over.

"Do you find me attractive?"

Lawrence immediately grew reserved and reluctant, making a grimace.

"Oh, I... I, oh no, I don't think it would be permissible to answer that."

"Go ahead. I dare you."

He swallowed nervously and came close with intimidation, making you stagger back all the way to the wall behind you, where he placed a hand up on it by your head, leaning in intimately and his warm breath tickled your cheeks.

"Yes, I suppose. But I'm happily married and certainly not looking for trouble or to wreck your own marriage. You must think I'm a very lousy friend," he admitted quietly.

"I think you underestimate me, Doctor," you whispered, nearly a purr, as you moved close and brushed his cheek with your fingers. He tried to speak, but you shushed him and gently removed his glasses, letting them dangle in your grip as you tilted into him, pressing your other hand firmly to his broad chest, squeezing the fabric of his vest.

Footsteps suddenly sounded from the hall outside, so you made it fast, giving Ernest a fast peck on the lips, just in time as then the door briskly yanked open and Robert poked his head in dubiously. You leaned back, still holding the glasses and Lawrence fumbled for them, accidentally interlocking fingers as your husband stared in confused disbelief.

"Y/N? What is the meaning of all this? We have work to do, why are you taking up his time?"

"Oppie, it's fine, we were just..." Ernest paused, readjusting rims of the glasses back on his face and he turned to you, a bit breathless.

"What were we talking about exactly?"

"All your great achievements, including the Nobel Prize, in contributing to the advancement of science, most notably your famous cyclotron and I was inquiring about the exact mechanics of how such a thing works. Something along the lines of high energy particles and acceleration...?"

"Right, because you were going to write to your father, who is curious about it," he caught on, proliferating this cock-and-bull conversation.

"And why do you need to interrupt our work about that? Aren't you supposed to elsewhere?" Robert asked, not hiding annoyance in plain sight. You could feel Ernest staring, gaze locked on you and your stomach butterflied, but you gave a brave face.

"You mean my womanly duties at home?" you snapped back.

"Yes, or however you may call it. Now, we need our physicist back if you'll pardon me." He beckoned Lawrence urgently and the man reluctantly pulled himself away from you, clearly ashamed and flustered. Once he was out of the room, Robert stepped inside and shut the door closed with snap. His face was taunt and irritated, fingers habitually fiddling for the ghost of a cigarette.

"What are you playing at here?" he demanded, already hurt without any explanation.

"Just a follow up to our last meeting," you said causally enough to anger him. He crossed to meet you in two strides, catching your wrist and lifting up your arm, interlacing his fingers very tightly with yours as he spoke lowly, intensively.

"What is the matter, am I not giving you enough? Do I not provide enough for you? You feel an urge to court my best man and colleague all of a sudden because you are bored of your humdrum domesticity? Is that what you love about Los Alamos, the fine selection of like-minded substitutes once you tire of me? Am I not enough?" His voice raised before he caught himself, releasing a shaky breath. He was genuinely upset and you felt rotten, but only for a second. It's not like he was clean in this either.

"Don't be ridiculous. I swear, you always assume the worst of me," you scoffed in response.

"Well, I certainly know a cheat when I see one," he said bitterly, twisting his fingers out of yours and dropping his arm.

"Yes, you would know indeed. But Jesus, Robert, he's only a friend, your friend I might add, and it was only a bit of fun, nothing serious. You said it yourself, it's good for him to loosen up. What else are parties for?"

"Right. Oh, yes, I'm sure that's exactly it," he replied sarcastically.

"He started it, you know, after Richard dared him to kiss me apparently at the party."

"Then I'll be speaking to both of them. But you need to stop it, quit acting so childish and inappropriate over this. You're smarter than this shtick and there is too much at stake to be partaking in silly juvenile romantic games."

"You do realize I'm at least fifteen years younger than you, right? You can't expect me to be, well, whatever it is called to be at your age. Old, is it?" you mocked and normally that would've sounded very rude in any other situation, but he knew your sharp side all too well to take it too seriously, especially when delivered with a teasing smile.

"You couldn't think of a worse slander than 'old'?" he scoffed, unimpressed, and you snorted, tapping the knot of his tie affectionately.

"The point is, I am indeed younger than you."

"So? I have no issue with that and you have proved yourself very capable of co-existence so far, I think you are quite mature for your age actually, at least until now... But I don't think biological age matters in love."

"I was just over eighteen when you began courting me and you used to flirt with your few female physics students that were no older," you reminded him and he diverted his gaze, tapping his foot anxiously and he distractedly flicked out a cigarette from his pocket pack, lighting it in a second and puffing in response. You stepped back from the plume of smoke, glancing towards the window and crossing your arms. He exhaled loudly and jerked his hand to point the cigarette at you and then spoke with ultimatum.

"I don't want to see you enter this laboratory with the intention of unnecessary interruption ever again. I will tell the officers outside to stop and restrain you if you do. Hell, I'll take these matters to the General if I have to, you hear me on that?"

"I certainly do as a matter of fact and I also know for a fact that you'd be wasting his time. Petty marriage squabbles isn't a high priority or forte for a high-ranking military man like him. But as for you, well, now you know what it feels like to be jeopardized over another human being," you countered.

"My ties are very different and I would never think to do it so publicly! I am discreet about such internal, highly private business," he exclaimed, getting frustrated with this discussion and this made you laugh humorlessly.

"Bullshit and you know that. I saw you a week before our wedding walking hand in hand with Jean down Shasta Road and what about that time afterwards when our friends saw you dancing with-"

He quickly talked louder, running over your words heatedly.

"No, no, no. You are just feeding into this ridiculousness and fabricating a relationship that isn't there!"

"Maybe so, but I thought it would be a good lesson, or test, for you and if this is any indicator, you've been bothered. I take heart in that you must love me so that it has unnerved you to see me with another man."

"There was never any doubt that I love you. Christ, if that's what this is all about..." He sighed, rubbing his creased forehead briefly before walking backwards to the door, opening it up and you could hear the dull chatter of voices from the other room.

"Well?" you asked when he didn't do anything, just standing with hands on his hips.

"I want you to do whatever it is that pleasures you, just as long as it doesn't happen to be luring my top physicist and close friend in a back room during the middle of a workday. Have some standard decency for God's sake," he spat, the words stinging, and you crystalized, uncrossing your arms and shaking your head at the hypocrisy.

"I never noticed it until we came here, but Ruth sure has your attention, doesn't she?"

"Pardon?" He blinked.

"You heard me."

"Ruthie has nothing to do with this and how dare you drag her name through your muddled mood today."

"Ruthie?" You rolled your eyes at clear affection underlying his tone.

"Listen to yourself Robert, you have feelings for her, you've always been close."

"She's a very dear friend, one of the few people I can truly confide in and share my emotions with, nothing more," he insisted.

"Am I part of that select number of confidants?"

"Of, of course. Has our entire marriage been for naught? I cannot believe your attitude over this, it's deplorable."

"It must be very nice to be you, Robert. No one here in Los Alamos casts open judgement upon you," you commented bitterly and he cringed, closing his eyes for a brief moment before staring back at you.

"Not yet, anyway," he answered with a tone of cryptic ominousness and you only frowned, shoving past him to exit the building.

A full twenty four hours passed without further incident until you haphazardly ran into Feynman on the street, just the man you were looking for.

"Richard?"

"Yeah?" He stopped and gave you a familiar cocky smile which dropped at the narrowed eyes and serious expression you were giving him.

"Oh, is this about the party? I didn't think he'd even do it, I apologize for our frivolousness that night. Clearly very unacceptable." He cleared his throat awkwardly and you leaned close, speaking in a low murmur.

"Do me a favor?"

"Uh, sure...?"

"I have an assignment for you: Find me a single man - preferably scientist - in this town, anyone remotely attractive will do, but no close friends or direct colleagues of Robert's, it has to be at least second or third tier from his inner circle and single - I'm not crossing into some other woman's territory - and arrange me a date with him in secret. Think of it as an experimental equation: One attempted devoted wife plus one all-but-labeled womanizer husband plus unsuspecting stag. It's time to give someone a taste of his own sweet and sour medicine."

"Oh, you feel like causing a scandal, do you? It won't take a mathematician to see what it'll will add up to." He chuckled in disbelief but then dropped his voice, casting wary glances around at passing residents, or civilians, as everyone who was non-military were officially called.

"Are you quite sure about this?"

"If I let my conscience speak, then no. But if I let every other fiber of my being, then yes. Will you do it?"

"I... I can't, no, this is beneath us," he protested, scratching the back of his neck in discomfort.

"It's one event at a casual party, it's quite another outside... Well, you know. Real tampering with people's lives has consequences and I'm not sure I'm the man for this job, I think if maybe, it-"

"I'll pay you," you interrupted quickly and he quirked an eyebrow and leaned closer.

"How much?" he whispered curiously.

"Twenty?"

"Make it 100 and you've got yourself a deal. I'll do it and you can pay me later at your convenience. Now excuse me, but I have some business elsewhere."

He hurried off and there was no further word until one early morning you came into the kitchen as Robert was dressing his toast and brewing coffee, and you were surprised to see a bouquet of long stemmed red roses on the table. Naturally, you looked to him as his habit of flower gifting was infamous, but he was staring just as confounded as you were. He seemed positively rattled, in fact.

"Did you...?" he asked and you echoed that same question.

"Did you?"

"No, I haven't been flower picking as of late," he replied dryly with a taut closed smile and then it dawned on you. Could it be from the mystery date you'd sent Feynman to set up?

"I'll put them in the living room, shall I? They'll get the strong afternoon light that will illuminate their velvety rouge petals," you expressed and he nodded emotionlessly, turning back to the toast and grabbing the pot of coffee.

Once you were alone in the lounge, you carefully inspected the flowers; they were beautiful and fairly fresh, only one or two were curling at the tips from the heat and as you held it up to admire, there was a small square piece of paper taped on the bottom of the skinny glass vase: It was a thin note, reading of a scrambled code of some sorts. You smirked, knowing it had to be Feynman who did this; he was always writing letters in code to his ailing sweetheart stuck in Albuquerque.

"Y/N, have you seen my badge? It's gone missing!" Robert called anxiously from the kitchen and you quickly tore the note off the bottom and tucked it into your pajamas.

"You probably left it on the dresser," you called back to him absentmindedly.

Once he left for the day, you sat down and worked to crack the code, which wasn't terribly hard considering it was predictable; boiling down to an address, date and time. You'd hoped for a name of the mystery gentleman, but didn't seem to get one.

That evening, you dressed in one of your finest silk dresses, red in color as the roses, and made your way to the bachelor's dormitory on the other side of town. You technically weren't allowed to be transversing around here, especially at this hour, and you cringed at a couple of catcalling whistles from young drunken men loitering outside. You ignored them, hurrying up the stairs to the mystery man's dorm and knocked once. The door opened, almost cautiously, and a decent looking young man stood there, his short brunette hair combed back and he wore a well pressed suit but with a blue tie slightly out of alignment.

"Good evening, Ma'am," he greeted in a pleasant voice and you automatically blushed, staring into his eyes which were a very watered-down literation of Robert's own blues; if his were the ocean, this man's were a lake on a grey skied afternoon and it made you feel a tad sad about doing this. Of course no man's eyes could ever quite compare.

"Hello...?" you trailed off, needing a name to this blind date of yours.

"My name is Anthony, Mrs. Oppenheimer."

"Pleasure to meet you and please, that makes me sound old and tethered. Just call me Y/N."

He nodded, stepping aside and you went inside, closing the door behind you as you surveyed the somewhat neat living quarters consisting of basic furniture and scattered paperwork and magazines.

"I apologize if this is rather awkward, but I take it Richard gave you the details?"

"More or less," Anthony answered and the way he was ogling at you wasn't so much like piece of meat, but out of respect and disbelief that he had actually had a date with the wife of the top dog scientific director of Los Alamos.

"Would you care for a drink? I just have, uh, scotch if that's alright. Probably different from what you're used to," he murmured the last part and you assured him quickly it was alright.

"Yes I would, thank you."

He handed a half filled glass to you gently and you noticed his hands were trembling slightly.

"You don't have to be nervous, I'm really not all that remarkable. I may have my husband's name, but I'm certainly not him, you know. We all bask in the long reaching shade of Oppie, don't we?"

"Right, of course," he chuckled, offering you a seat on the sofa and taking a sip of his own, regarding you impressively.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?" you asked tenderly and he shrugged, still rather timid.

"I was dating a girl back in college but we broke off right before I signed onto the project."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty four," he answered.

"Good, not younger than me; I suppose we are perhaps compatible then in that respect. You don't need to hear my life story, but I was a year in studying medicine at Stanford until this and now I suppose I'm just another housewife at the moment." You sighed, taking a small sip and nodding at him pleasantly.

"So what do you do here, generally? I take it you aren't one of the boys in Oppie's so-called cult?"

"No, I'm an engineer actually. I work in one of the labs, hands on, none of that theoretical bunch."

You nodded approvingly and there was a lapse of silence until he gestured with his glass, sloshing the liquid slightly.

"So I take it you're quite unhappy with... with Dr. Oppenheimer if you wanted to meet with another man?" he asked cautiously, disguising excitement.

"No questions, if you don't mind. I'm not here to talk about him," you replied seriously and he nodded fervently, setting the drink down on the side table.

"Yes, right. I apologize. I guess that doesn't leave much formalities then." He paused, swiping his tongue across his lips.

"I'd like to kiss you if that's not rushing too much," he proposed politely, but with a tone of urgency.

"Go right ahead." You braced as he leaned in, inches from your lips and you shared air for a second before he plunged forward, groping your mouth fast and lightly. But it felt all so wrong. You lightly pulled back, his hands not even holding your face like Robert always did so there wasn't much real intimacy, and glanced to the floor self consciously.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this," you murmured guiltily. Maybe it wasn't even your conscience; maybe he just wasn't the right guy.

"But I thought you wanted it...?" Anthony's brows furrowed in hurt confusion and offense, so you quickly backpedaled.

"Not here, we can't do anything here. How about... Do you want to come over to my home?" you blurted out abruptly and he swallowed.

"But is-isn't your husband home?"

"That's the point."

Gathering courage for the both of you, Anthony then stood and took your hand to walk you to the door, leading you out down to the street level and the two of you walked all the way to Bathtub Row together. You could tell he was in awe of these homes that were larger and much better constructed.

"So this is how the other side lives." Anthony gave a low whistle and you laughed, bumping his side gently.

"Don't worry. We use the same water, electricity, and plumbing as you do, it's just a little more glamorous and I promise you anyone living in Los Alamos to work on the project is not substandard or lower class, even if the military may be rather degrading at times. It's all just a socially constructed hierarchy."

He squeezed your waist affectionately and you led him to the house, telling him to wait by the shrubs as you walked around to peer into the windows to see if Robert was still up, which you'd be surprised if he wasn't, and indeed he was: reclining in an armchair by the fireplace, reading and puffing on his pipe.

You signaled to Anthony to come closer and he crossed the yard to stand by the side of the house, appearing wary. He mouthed 'do you see him?' and you nodded, turning your back to the window and beckoned to him to move close. He carefully did so until he was a few inches from your face and you swallowed at the intimacy, the daring nerve to kiss a man right in front of the windowpanes where your husband sat in the living room.

"Kiss me, but passionately this time, no holding back. Just pretend it's only the two of us, okay?" you whispered and he breathed in, parting lips.

"Is this a dream?" he whispered and you giggled lightly, straddling his body and cupping the back of his neck, hairs bristling your fingers.

"Only if you want it to be, but no telling anyone when you wake up, understand?"

"No one would believe me... I feel as though I'm about to commit a great sin against the Oppenheimer unity, I can't believe I'm going to do this," he admitted with a dark chuckle.

"I can," you breathed and before you knew it, his lips connected to yours and the kiss was actually amazingly passionate indeed for two people who just personally met tonight. You breathed in his musky scent and intertwined tongues, smooshing noses and you felt him push you up against the window, arms embracing you whole and you secretly hoped it would eventually catch Robert's attention. Your intention was just one full kiss, but now this man had you, he seemed reluctant to let go as you began to lean back from his mouth, head lightly conking against the window. Anthony groped your breasts hungrily and you felt his hard-on pressing against your thigh as your bodies rubbed, the kissing becoming sloppier and for a moment, you completely forgot what you'd done this for. A faint yell came from somewhere and Anthony grew more attached, tightening his grasp on your frame, kissing harder and you started to feel a slight wetness in your panties.

"Stop! Get off of her! Please, that's my wife!" Robert's voice called in audible distress and you realized this must look a lot worse than it was, and you had to admit this man was getting a bit rougher as his more primal desire came to fruition and you grunted, turning your head and trying to wriggle out from underneath his locking embrace.

"That's enough, enough," you murmured anxiously, but he wasn't stopping.

"You said this could be my dream, can't ya let me finish first?" Anthony growled in your ear, but you were done, having successfully alarmed your husband. This wasn't meant to go further and quite frankly, you were unnerved how quickly it had escalated. He wasn't quite the shy gentleman scientist anymore once he was aroused, but you supposed these types of adventures did bring out the animalistic behavior in most after all.

Simple souls, Robert had said once of human beings.

Unfortunately, he was now witness to such a 'simple man' about to take you right on the windows of his stone and log cabin style house.

"STOP THAT NOW!" Robert yelled off to the right and you felt Anthony being forcefully tugged away, his arm flailing out and trying to grasp, catching your hair and you winced as he accidentally yanked painfully.

You were suddenly released and you gasped, sidestepping and watching in shock as Robert tried to jump on the man, his belt removed from his waist and gripped tightly in his hands as he wrestled it aggressively around Anthony's neck, constricting with enough force to make him gag and choke.

"Robert, no!" you shouted, rushing forward and attempting to pull him away, but it was as if he were deaf to the wind.

"I demand you to LEAVE my property at once and to NEVER see my wife, or this won't end on civilized terms," he threatened loudly and you'd never seen such a fire in his piercing eyes before. It intrigued and frightened you, considering he was not a brute in any sense. Anthony pleaded through his choking, whimpering pathetically, until Robert finally backed off, snapping the belt and huffing.

The other man stumbled up to his feet and held up his hands in surrender as Robert squinted in the dark, trying to fully identify him.

"I'm terribly apologetic Dr. Oppenheimer, sir, I won't bother you or the Mrs. anymore, I'll be right on my way!"

Anthony ran like a bat out of hell from the property and once it was silent, Robert turned to you with heavy breaths, the belt hanging limply at his side. You took one look and then rushed inside in the house, kicking off your heels in the hallway and dashing into the bedroom, slamming the door, heart pounding a sprint.

Moments later, you heard his clodding footsteps and anxious voice calling out desperately, the door bursting open.

"Jesus Christ, are you alright?" he gasped as you shrunk away from him, still feeling Anthony's hands all over you and the whole guilt imploded, resulting in a sudden overflow of tears.

"Fuck, Robert! It's all my fault, I told Richard Feynman to set us up and I told Anthony to come here as a show to make you jealous and it advanced, I promise he meant no harm, we just wanted-"

"You did this on purpose?" he interrupted, betrayal lighting his features and you wiped messily at the tears streaming down your own.

"Yes! I kissed him on purpose! I wanted to spite you, I'm sorry but I cannot handle this anymore! I wanted to hurt and infuriate you like you do to me with your blatant love of other women! I bribed Richard $100 for a date with a single scientist, I didn't know what I'd get, but I'm glad you saw us together, it is only fair when I have to read love letters to past girlfriends... or are they just current 'friends'?!"

His mouth gaped and the frown lines appeared, creasing his forehead in prudent anger.

"The audacity... I suppose I indeed underestimated you, my sweet Aphrodite," he said lowly, voice a low rumble and despite everything you actually felt a shiver of arousal in your core.

In two strides, he met you at the foot of the bed, grabbing your head in a vice and in a bizarrely dominant twist, pinned you down to the bed, trapping you underneath him and yet you saw the uncertainty flicker. He was pretending to be so dominant, but couldn't take the reins fully.

Oh, Oppie.

"Roll over," you ordered sharply and he did, collapsing onto his back as you unbuttoned his pants and yanked them down hastily, staring at his cock straining against his boxers. You placed your palm on it, teasing him and he moaned softly, shaking his head at the deviousness on your face.

"No, please. Please, let me out, please don't do this, please..."

Begging. He was actually begging. After he just had attacked a man outside and was reeling from your confession, he was here at an embarrassingly burgeoning erection.

"I'm so close that I don't need you inside me, but I think you need a bit more help, is that right?" you whispered condescendingly and he gulped, eyes wide dilated marbles.

"I'm sorry about all of it, I never meant t-to-" he sputtered off as you clapped a hand to his mouth and you straddled his body, legs quivering with anticipation.

His penis grew harder and a clear wet stain bled through the fabric, causing him to squirm underneath you and you smiled, bumping up and grinding against clothed erection. You yelped at the sudden rush of internal pleasure and his hands gripped your dress at the hips, gasping along with your heaves and whines, but he himself was yet to peak. He seemed mortified as you then sat back and placed firm hands down on his crotch, holding his bulge tightly. He groaned, mortified as you wouldn't let him go, and after stretching him out to his limits for too long, a single squeeze brought him to a full climax, absolutely soaking his boxers and he threw his head back on the pillow, reveling in the orgasm.

Panting, you climbed off him and he weakly sat up, holding out a hand with the other on his wet crotch in sheer humiliation. You left the bed, gathering your appearance and catching breath.

"No, don't... Don't leave," he requested desperately from his spot on the bed and you shook your head, tousling hair as you glanced over at him.

"Clean up your own mess, darling," you told him firmly, a metaphor as much as a literal one.

He sighed, swinging legs off the bed and hobbling off to the bathroom as you began to undress, slipping out of the dress and into a bedtime robe.

He came back in, clean but utterly naked, and his dick was still dripping a smidge at the tip.

"You very much ruined a good pair of my underwear," he complained and you merely shrugged, patting the bed as you crawled in and he joined, scooting under the sheets and pulling you close, resting his forehead at yours, speaking in a mutter.

"You just had to stoop low with that male 'catch' of yours, didn't you?"

"That's not very nice, darling. Anthony seemed like a nice man and he's an engineer, I'll have you know."

"He isn't a third of the man I am."

"No one is you, Robert. That's why I went to another man in the first place."

"I truly wanted to suffocate the life out of him, I would have maimed him quite seriously had I lacked control. I haven't thought of doing such a terrible action since my Cambridge episodes, my terrible fits of jealousy... I suppose I expressed protection over you," he mused grimly.

"It's the thought that counts," you commented darkly.

"I can be so impulsive and erratic... You and everyone knows quite well how I was going to poison my tutor; I had injected potassium cyanide in the body of that innocent apple and left it on his desk..."

You remembered it had been Jean who had offhandedly first mentioned this story to you and she had assured you it was only because he was going through a very difficult phase in his life and actually all he needed to feel fulfilled was to just "get laid" as she aptly put it. Funnily enough, 'getting laid' was the least of Robert's problems now.

He took your hand at the moment and grasped too hard, squeezing your fingers, leaning towards you anxiously and speaking urgently.

"Listen, and I mean this very much: Don't ever see another man, I don't think I can do this again without gravely spraining my heart."

"And your enormous ego," you added the obvious with a small smile and he returned it, also giving you a light kiss on the cheek and cuddling in close.

"I love you," he offered gently and you shot him a glance, unable to hide the blushing smirk.

"Touché."

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lunarw0rks · 7 months

Note

Hi!!! I just wanna start by saying I love your writing so much. I always look forward to seeing what you share next!

Can I request a little something about reader who grew up never really having their birthday celebrated/they always downplay it. Then here comes Soap who loves nothing more than to celebrate his loves ones and reader is touched and basically almost sobs at how he genuinely enjoys making their day special🥺

This is totally not a self-indulgent ask whatsoever. If you can get to this, that'd be sweet but if not that's ok too! Have a great day💗

warning(s); sfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, pining? but still platonic by the end, military!reader, gn!reader, no use of y/n word count: 1.6k // not proofread

TRADITIONS | SOAP MACTAVISH

birthday celebrations were never on your radar, and especially not after choosing such a rugged career.

there often wasn't time for streamers and light conversation; it was anything but those things. throughout your childhood, there weren't momentous parties or cheery wishes thrown your way. it was... not much of a celebration at all.

after you grew out of your innocence, the sting of it disappeared over time. or you learned to ignore it. either way, you never expected parties, gifts, or anything alike.

it was better this way; you'd repeat to yourself.

yet, when passing a park and seeing a child's entire kin gathered to celebrate the milestone—you have that same cramp in your chest as if you hadn't aged at all.

today was akin to any other; exhausting. long hours of PT and drills, paired with new material to study, courtesy of Price. the busier the better, though, because it was less chance of your captain mentioning the big day, even in passing.

thankfully, he hadn't, nor did the rest of them.

it was the peaceful hours before official lights out, when every soldier retreated to their quarters and occupied themselves with something, or simply slept early. you sat down on the thin cot with a beat sigh, unzipping your tight boots and setting them aside—procrastinating shining them by morning.

through all the uncertainty, there's one thing you're sure of—a steamy shower. the hot beads of water cleanse you of the dirt and grime of today and its meaning.

you figure that once you get into bed and tomorrow rolls around, it'll be another birthday stifled and forgotten.

one moment, you're sitting on the edge and applying lotion to your dry and cracked hands, and next, you're startled by a knock at the door. you gazed at the digital clock on your nightstand;

10:38 PM

at this hour, what could it possibly be? with this task force, you'd been conditioned to expect anything, at any time—and that did not inspire confidence at the moment.

"it's open," you replied reluctantly, not wanting to get the doorknob greasy with lotion remnants. with a few struggling grunts, the door finally opened and closed.

his hairstyle, as recognizable as ever. "there ya are." he said with enthusiasm, in the likeness of an over-excited detective that solved a tough case.

"c'mere for a minute," he curled his fingers. despite his cheeky smile, you indulge his request. slipping off the edge, you approach him and supply only a perplexed look.

you were quickly running out of guesses, "Mactavish, what is—"

an explosion; tiny fragments falling like ash all around your body. some landed in your hair, others on your shoulders, and most on the leaden cement floor of the barracks.

you opened your eyes after they squinted from the startle. you grabbed the dainty rain, looking down and seeing rainbow confetti pieces. soap's palm was open, and he was actively chuckling at your shocked expression.

"hello, you in there? happy birthday?" he says, as a question, because you haven't had much of a reaction. to him, it probably looked like you hated the surprise.

a rush of emotions pumped through you; disbelief, gloom, and overbearing all—consolation.

warmth spread over your chest and cheeks, and you're suddenly overcome with all the feelings at once. you fumbled through a sentence, "oh, you didn't have to— really, Soap, it's... wait, how did you do the...?"

"—the confetti?" soap sneers, as if he'd been waiting for you to mention his party trick. "trick o' the palm, i can't tell ye more; it's classified."

for a few moments, you stare at one another. his beam is genuine, but yours is unsure and borderline awkward. when you're literally smacked in the face with surprise, everything feels unrefined and alien. especially birthdays.

"don't be daft, had to help you celebrate. besides, you didn't say anythin' today." lightly, he smacked your shoulder, knocking the silence from your throat.

"I just don't see the point, I guess," you reply, and soften your expression to make it known that you still appreciate the kind gesture. following, you shook off some of the confetti from your shoulders as if ridding your body of the festivities.

soap furrows his brows with genuine confusion, "in what? confetti or my presence?"

"in birthdays." you assert, a stark contrast to his playful nature. "never really celebrated one before."

his shock was authentic and obvious, pulled together with slightly agape lips, "you can't be serious— never?" you nodded, sticking to your story, because it wasn't a story at all. it was your truth. "don't you want gifts? all the attention? what about the cake?"

"it's not from a lack of trying, MacTavish. you can't exactly... want something you've never had." you scoff, looking the eager sergeant up and down.

he does the same, and his heart sinks when he senses no lies. you really aren't lying, and you really are this indifferent about your own birthday.

to him, it's completely unheard of. birthdays were some of his core memories, his own and his family back home. how could you have been deprived of that for so long, and be so... collected?

"doesn't matter where you came from, or why; you deserve a celebration."

his merriment wasn't posed as a question anymore, and you didn't want it to be either. part of you—so deep down you hadn't felt it right away—wanted to be celebrated on your special day.

all of it caught up with you at once, and without any strength to conceal it, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. a glimpse of your damaged and long-deprived inner child, presented through a grown soldier's body.

he brought you closer, a supportive hand on the nape of your neck as you clung to him tightly. "thank you." you muttered, chin resting on his shoulder.

"aye, but it's nothing." soap pulled you back, forcing you to stare at him head on. a thumb reached up and wiped the salty tears, then smoothed over your cheek. "y'know what, I know what we've got t' do." he breathes, voice dropping to a whisper, as if concealing his idea from the world.

your face scrunched in confusion. "we?"

as if ignoring your question, he kept rambling, "you have holiday coming up. request time off, and i'll take you all the way home with me."

"all the way home?" you queried, unsure of what kind of holiday to be picture. with him, it could be anything under the blazing sun.

he slowed down his speech and affirmed, "all the way home." it dawned on you what he meant, but nothing sour arose from that idea.

"Nana, she'll put on one hell of a party for you, trust me." finally, his rambles had calmed, awaiting your reaction. it was near impossible to refuse his puppyish demeanor, the one he shifted into when he wanted something the most.

"cake?" you questioned, surprising him with almost no argument. the nonchalance had to look uncanny, considering your cheeks were still stained with streams.

he grinned with satisfaction. "aye, 'course there's cake. can't forget the streamers, and best of all—the MacTavish rugrats, and brood, in one place."

well, now that sounded more like a nightmare; your mind filled with the image of a hundred little mohawks reaping havoc on your birthday party. but in the middle of the chaos would be you and soap; the only mildly convincing part of this scheme.

"i can't expect your whole family to gather and plan a party for someone they've never met. let alone m—"

"well, actually, that's the kicker," he interjected, unveiling a new layer to his little birthday scheme. one he could've been planning for god knows how long. "Nan is having a get-together around that time, it won't be a fuss f' her."

you would be nearly stunned if it weren't for a few pressing questions. what he'd said early hit you like a ton of bricks, and now it was full-on suspicion. "wait a minute, johnny. how did you know i had holiday time?"

it all seemed too much of a coincidence. and that's because, it wasn't.

for a man trained to endure the worst kinds of torture, he cracked under the pressure almost instantly.

"may have... done some digging in Cap's office. that's how i figured out your birthday." he figured it better to rip off the bandaid preemptively than have deflected now and have you throwing him out the airplane window.

you gasped slightly, "christ, is privacy illegal in this place? actually, that probably is illegal, MacTavish, i could have you—"

"—are ye goin' with me or not?" soap interrupted.

it wasn't like you said no. just like it wasn't the first time he'd mentioned you to his family. but that was a skeleton to uncover on another day, and hopefully not during the plane ride.

you outstretched a hand, "if you're paying? a deal is a deal."

"see? wasn't so hard. besides, i know i'm hard to deny." he ran an arrogant hand through his hair, instead of shaking your hand proper.

instead of complaining, you knew just how to press his buttons. "come to think of it, johnny." you tilted your head, reading to have the last laugh.

"you have any embarrassing juvenile stories? or better yet, does Nana have any baby pictures i might like to see?" you continued, watching his haughtiness fizzle instantly.

he took a few steps back, cheeks rosy, "you know what— in two hours that birthday of yours will be over, and you know what happens then? first dibs on my knuckles, soldier."

that tells you the answer was yes.

on second thought, this was going to be a very fun excursion.

˗ˏˋ divider cred. - cafekitsune ˎˊ˗

#john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x you #soap x reader #soap x y/n #soap x gn!reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap mw2 #soap mwii #mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #mw2 fanfic

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kanmom51 · 1 year

Note

i wish, i hope, i beg the insecure jikookers (if they are even jikookers) would actually sit down and THINK. there's always and i mean always a large, a HUGE picture we have been getting just a tiny cut out from, in every situation. and it's not even a new thing, we have always been aware we are getting just a tiny crumb off of a big cake. so i'm not really understanding what's everyone fussing so much about?

there's always a room for millions of possibilities of what actually could have happened and these people always seem to think the 'worst' (it's not even the worst, so what if jimin wasn't there with him? is there some rule book couples must follow?). you get what i mean no? he could've been in the room next door, sleeping, on his phone, he could've been sleeping in his apartment, hell, would the 2 minute live gone longer than 2 minutes he could've walked in on the screen without knowing they are even live, just as jk did. i could go on and on and on...

not to mention that since april 4th morning KST (bb hot100 update and jms wlive) we have got just ONE update about jikooks whereabouts- that being minimoni on a nike dinner and jk unsurprisingly being like 900 metres (0.5 miles) away from that said dinner with his 97liner friends celebrating Mingyu's birthday (really surprising that the nineone neighbours +jk are within one kilometer in one area). so that leaves us (if we count april 4th after the early celebration wlive) with 4 whole days of nothing. nada.

so unless you're living in the walls of jimin and jungkook's apartments you have no, and i can't stress this enough, fucking idea what's happening.

i should probably mention the fact that jk is flying off to the US in just a few hours (maybe not even that many), meaning he could've been at his apartment to pack some damn stuff, do some damn laundry before he flies away for who knows how long. or he just wanted to spend time at his apartment you know, an apartment that's his. because he owes no one a damn explanation.

it's actually baffling how some of you all claim to love them and believe in them and their relationship so much, yet you expect something from them all the damn time. an explanation. a statement. a huge gesture. a coming out. i guess that is not bad per say because after all, they've done it before (except the coming out part obviously), yet again, they don't owe you anything. so don't go around jikook blogs constantly spreading negative emotions that you yourself are feeling after something that doesn't go the way you have wanted it to go.

i actually have many more things to say, how all of this is happening literally months before they have to enlist and complete their duty as korean citizens, which is a heavy topic for any queer person that lives in SK and how this whole situation still must be very overwhelming (not in a good way) for them, but for now i will stop here. it's actually the first time i think i have written something on here, because i have had enough of the constant repetition. this all just convinced me i could never be a blogger, lmao. 😅

sit back. relax. and THINK before you write something. thanks.

HELL YEAH!!!!!!!!

All of that.

Just wanted to add about that night out on the 6th April outings cause you already brought it up.

JK and JM, how dare they, were spotted not together.

JM at the Nike dinner with RM and others.

JK was at a restaurant, which only today we found out was a dinner with Eunwoo and Mingyu, both his 97 liner friends (Eunwoo btw being a good friend of JM's too, surprise surprise).

And how surprising, the restaurant that JK and his friends dined at was a few hundred meters from where JM was with RM and the others, and the two were pretty close to JK's apartment.

Just a little more pieces to add to the puzzle of very little info we get (not to mention it coming to us in pieces).

Also, matching hats (not identical) going out on same night?

Caption: lovers.

Or in Papago:

Trust in K-army.

They are rejoicing in JM and JK's relationship. Why can't I-army do the same???

#ask

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spicerackofblorbos · 3 months

Text

Chapter 7: May

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, romance, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse, smoking and alcohol abuse mentions, domestic violence, light assault,

☾ Author's note ➼ Hi guys! Are y'all ready for the final chapter?! June is the reason why I pushed through so many months because [redacted]. I know you're just as excited as I am. I hope you enjoy this chapter though! I know it took me a while, but I think I'm quite happy with how it turned out. Happy Birthday, Mama Kuchel! <3

☾ Word Count ➼ ~9.8k

You take note of the early morning sun filtering in through your sheer curtains as you blink away sleep, acutely aware of the memories of your dream already starting to fade. An ounce of annoyance starts seeping its way into your brain from the rude awakening when you hear Hange’s muffled voice come from the other side of your door.

“Gooooood mooorrrrning birthday girl!! I’m coming in!” They shout as they push open your door. You fold your pillow over your ear to muffle Hange’s shouting as they come in. Your wide-eyed sister stops mid-step and frowns down at the sight of you. There’s a small tray in her hands, the contents hidden from where you currently lie.

“What are you still doing in bed?” You release the pillow to free your hand.

‘What do you mean? I’m sleeping.’ It was your turn to frown back.

“Levi is on his way to come get you. You should be getting ready.” They wiggle an eyebrow at you but you’re too shellshocked to even care. You sit straight up like a meerkat, wide eyes aimed right at Hange’s amused smirk.

‘Levi? Why?’

“He’s keeping you busy for me today so I can prepare for your birthday party. So, eat,” they set down the tray that has a simple breakfast staring up at you, “get dressed, and get out. He’ll be here soon.” They poke your nose before turning around and disappearing through the doorway, leaving your door wide open.

Butterflies start flooding your stomach as you process what just transpired. Levi was on his way to you and you’re looking like… this. You’re looking like this. The realization dawns on you, suddenly hyper aware of your messy bed head and ruffled pajamas. Grabbing a piece of toast, you throw yourself out of bed and into your private bathroom to start the shower, simultaneously praying that today would be a good day.

Even with your hasty speed, it still takes you an hour and a half until you’re satisfied with yourself. You take one more glance over before huffing heavily and pulling open your door then stepping out into the hallway. Your heart skips a beat when you recognize a voice.

“Your tea is too watery. Let me help next time.” You hear something heavy being set down on the table, a mug you guess.

“I can’t have you do that. You’re my guest, Levi.”

“I’m not asking. If I’m drinking tea, it better be good. This isn’t fit for consumption.”

When you pause in the entryway, you see Hange and Levi sitting at the dining room table. They turn their heads in your direction at the same time, Hange with a wide smile and Levi with a furrowed brow. He’s wearing a dark green t-shirt tucked into his usual jeans with his black leather jacket draped over his shoulders. He stands up, his chair sliding back as he does.

“Took you long enough.” Levi retorts.

‘Sorry. I didn’t know you were coming until this morning.’

“Hange, you said you’d let her know last week.” Levi slides his attention over to your sister who is suddenly very concerned with the mug in front of her. He sighs then gathers his keys off the table before making his way over to the kitchen sink to place his own mug into it. “Let’s go.”

“Bring her back in one piece, will you?” Hange glances over at you and winks.

“Yeah, yeah. See you in a couple hours, shitty glasses.”

The car ride to who knows where stays relatively silent between the two of you. Soft rock plays through his speakers at a low enough volume allowing you to hear the car’s engine as well as the wind blowing outside as Levi zooms through the town.

You couldn’t contain your surprise to see Levi driving - Erwin’s car no less. In the six months that you had known him, you have never once seen him drive. He mentioned his aversion to being behind the wheel early on in those months, saying he’d only drive when he had to. You guess today is one of those days. You hope this, whatever this is, isn’t burdensome for him.

You turn to Levi, making sure he can see your hands then sign, ‘Where’s Erwin, anyways?’

“He got held up doing something.”

‘Is he okay?’

“He’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.” The car turns down a main road that you aren’t familiar with. “Are you hungry?” Levi meets your gaze for a second before focusing back on the road. You think back to that singular bite of toast you had a mere couple of hours ago.

‘Yes.’ You give him a sheepish smile.

“Me too. Your sister offered to make me lunch while waiting for your ass, but I was not in the mood to be poisoned today. I know a place.” He mutters and silence blankets the two of you again. You glance out the window as Levi zooms down the street and you realize you’re in a part of town you’ve never been to before. Suddenly you can feel the car slowing down.

Levi pulls into a parking lot connected to a small park that consists of a playground and a few benches. There are a handful of people and kids out enjoying the warm weather today. Some children run around playing a game of tag while their parents, you assume, sit and chat away. A pang of nostalgia shoots through your whole body.

Once Levi shuts the car off, he glances over to you with his lips slightly parted as if he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. You raise an eyebrow at him expectantly, but he just pinches his lips together and unbuckles himself before pulling himself out the door. You do the same, furrowing your brow in confusion. This isn’t the first time he hesitated to tell you what was on his mind, but you sure wish the previous time had been the last time. You push the door open and step out into the fresh air.

Instantly, the smell of freshly mown grass strikes your nose. A smile tugs at your lips as you breathe in deep, savoring the scent. Levi comes up next to you as he tucks the keys away into his pants. A warm breeze blows through his hair, and it makes your heart dance. Levi is so pretty, you think to yourself.

“You okay?” You’re suddenly aware of your staring, and you force yourself to look away.

‘Yes. Just thinking about how nice today is.’ You give him a small smile.

“Yes, it is. Ready to eat?” He turns around and sweeps his arm in the direction of a small building on the edge of the parking lot. It’s blue and the outside looks almost like a farmhouse with a half wrapped wooden porch around it. Above the main entrance is a sign that reads ‘Kirschstein’s’ in black cursive font. If this is a restaurant, then it was as ‘mom and pop’ as it could get. Levi walks off with you right behind.

The moment you step through the front door, a pleasant chime rings through the whole restaurant. A couple customers occupy some small tables already, so it was relatively quiet save for the light music coming from the speakers in the ceiling. The aesthetic gives a very rustic and homey feel, heavily mirroring the outside. It’s quaint and simple and it makes you like it even more.

“SASHA! THE DOOR. PUT THAT FORK DOWN FIRST.” You hear an older woman yell from the back. A second later, a girl with reddish-brown hair pulled into a ponytail jumps through a door and over to the podium in the front. She has a couple of crumbs around her mouth which currently widens into a grin at you.

“Hi! Welcome to Kirschsteins! Just the two of you today?”

“Yes, please. Outside, if possible.” Levi speaks up, jerking his head to the side door. You follow his movement, and you see a cute little unfenced patio facing the park with small tables peppering around it.

“Yes, sir! Follow me.” With a flourish, she grabs two menus and starts over to the patio.

When you both settle in, you can’t help but wonder if this might be a date. He catches your eye only for you to swiftly look down at your menu, pretending to look at your options. He hasn’t said anything outright about it, and you suppose two friends can go out for lunch without it being considered a date, right? Your thoughts are going a million miles a minute that you barely hear Levi calling your name. When you look over the menu, you see Levi staring at you with a raised brow.

“What would you like to drink?” He glances over to the side. Following his gaze, your eyes fall on a tall, slender boy with freckles and kind brown eyes.

“Hi, I’m Marco! Can I get you something to drink?” He gives you a soft smile. You glance over to Levi and sign ‘water’.

“She says water and I’ll take a cup of hot black tea.” Marco nods and leaves the two of you alone. The sounds of laughing children and birdsong make their way into your ears.

“Where’d you go just now?” Levi asks, leaning back into his chair as he stares at you.

‘I don’t know, just thinking.’ You then look back down to your menu, attempting to find something to eat. You hear him hum in response but say nothing else. This wasn’t a date, it couldn’t be.

After a bit, you hear the patio door open, and you look up to see your waiter holding your water glass as well as a saucer supporting a dainty teacup. He sets them down gently and then pulls out a notepad from his apron.

“If you’re ready, I can take your order now.” he says, eyes shifting back and forth between the two of you. Levi glances over at you, ready for you to tell him your order. You still haven’t given the menu a close enough look, so you take a quick glance before panic-choosing.

‘Triple berry crepe, extra whipped cream.’ Levi nods in understanding then glances down to his own menu. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he chose the first thing his eyes landed on as well.

“She’ll take the triple berry crepe with extra whipped cream, and I’ll have the classic omurice, light ketchup please.” Levi hands Marco the menu and you do the same, smiling at the freckled boy. He nods and tucks his notepad back into his apron before grabbing the menus.

“Sounds great. Please let me know if there’s anything you need while waiting.” He bows and then he’s gone. You meet Levi’s eyes; they’re a light gray today, like storm clouds after a bout of rain.

You both sit in silence for a bit, unsure of what to say. Levi fiddles with his silverware and you pick at you fingernails, a habit you've been unsuccessfully trying to break. Picking up your hands, you start to sign but Levi starts talking at the same time.

"So, ho- Oh, sorry." He crosses a leg over his knee and stares over at you. “Go ahead."

'Go ahead.' You sign at the same time as his words. He smirks at your soft laugh.

"Just say it."

‘Your sign reading is better.’ You grab your water glass and take a tentative sip. The sides of the glass are already perspiring so after setting it down, you wipe your hand on your napkin, taking note that it most likely wasn’t just water that you were drying off.

“I would hope so, otherwise those classes have been a waste.” Levi mutters before taking a careful sip of his own drink, holding his teacup the way he does. There’s that knot in between his eyebrows again.

‘Classes?’ There’s a softness in his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m taking classes. I didn’t want to be the only one not knowing what you were saying.” He rolls his eyes and looks away again. Levi’s cheeks start flushing your favorite shade of pink.

What he said might sound like common sense, but to you it meant so much more. Levi wasn’t one to do things short term, meaning he wouldn’t throw his money away on something that he would deem temporary. By your own reasoning, Levi plans to be in your life for a while. And that makes your chest warm. You don’t know what to say to that. Luckily, you don’t need to think of what to say as Marco comes swinging out the door with your plates.

“Alright, I’ve got one triple berry crepe with extra whipped cream…” he trails off as he sets your plate down in front of you and continues, “and one omurice, light ketchup.” He places Levi’s down then stands up straight with his hands behind his back. “How does everything look?” Levi glances over to you and you give him a thumbs up of approval.

“Everything looks great. Can I get another tea?”

“Absolutely, I’ll be right out with that.” And then he’s gone again.

You’ve lived in Jinae for almost a year and you can’t believe this is the first time you’ve heard of and been to this place. You hear Levi let out a breathy chuckle, and you glance up at him. He’s watching you in amusement, an actual smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Is it good?” You nod back enthusiastically, smiling back at him.

“Good. My mom and I used to frequent this place. Especially for her birthday.” He says softly as he tucks his napkin onto his lap as he speaks. There’s a wistful tone in his voice. You’re again lost for words. You can’t help but think how different this Levi is compared to the one you met so many months ago. And you liked this version of him. No, not version. This is him. And you really… really like him.

As always, a familiar silence befalls you both as you dig in. Levi’s tea comes out at some point but you’re too engrossed in your food to notice. There are a couple moments where he catches your eye and then looks away. You get this feeling like he wants to say something but won’t. You know better than to force it out of him though, so you opt to give him a soft smile in return before his eyes leave yours. Just as you’re about to finish, someone comes bursting out the patio door.

“Hey guys, sorry to startle you but my boyfriend got stuck doing something else so I’m here to drop off your check. No rush of course.” The voice belongs to a kid with ash-brown hair styled in an undercut. He’s in a white button up with an apron tied around him.

He sets a black checkbook down on the table and turns to leave. A singular checkbook. Your eyes meet Levi’s for a quick second and then you’re setting your fork down and reaching into your cross-body purse. You slam your card onto the table. Levi, of course, is faster.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Levi quips as he slides his card into the fold with deft fingers.

‘What are you doing? Put that back!’ You glare at him as you grab your card and push it towards the new waiter who had turned back to see what the commotion was about.

“You put it back! It’s your birthday, dumbass. I’m not about to make you pay for any of this.” Sticking your tongue out, you ignore Levi and flap your card out in front of the waiter.

The waiter looks over to you sympathetically before muttering, “He was faster ma’am. Also, not to be impolite or nosy but it is your birthday.” He grabs the checkbook with Levi’s card and runs back into the building. Your eyes land on Levi and he’s watching you with a smug grin. You cross your arms over your chest and stare back.

‘Were you planning to pay this whole time?’

“What if I was?”

‘Well, I wouldn’t have come.’ Levi rolls his eyes at that.

“Just shut up and let me treat you for your birthday.” You slump back in your chair, defeated but far from dejected. The same thought of ‘is this a date?’ keeps floating through your mind. He paid for it, but that doesn’t make it a date. It was just a kind gesture from one friend to another, that’s all.

‘Thank you, Levi. I appreciate it. But I’m paying for the next meal.’ You stick your tongue out again in feign defiance.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” He purses his lips but not a single bit of amusement leaves his eyes.

On the way back to the car, you glance over at the park. There are more kids out now, playing and swinging on the playground. You double take as you notice a snow-cone stand to the side of it with a small line, something that wasn’t there when you first arrived. You stop and turn to Levi, automatically catching his attention as you do.

‘Dessert?’ You point over to the stall with a wide grin.

“Sure. But we’re eating it out here.” He answers faster than you thought he would, so you fumble for a moment as Levi starts off in that direction. He wouldn’t tell you, but the reason why he would agree so quickly is because he would give anything to spend more time with you. He glances behind his shoulder, noticing you haven’t moved yet.

“Are you coming?” He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and turns to you with concern. Your grin becomes wider, and you hop over so that you’re standing right next to him. You won’t understand the extent of it until later, but you would follow Levi to the ends of the earth if it meant being with him.

‘Yes, but I’m paying.’ And then you run off before Levi realizes what you said, his fast paced steps right on your heels a moment later.

Levi decides to roll the windows down as he drives off to the next location that he had in mind. You’re staring at Levi from the passenger seat, arm propped up against the door with the wind blowing through your hair. You’re lost in your thoughts as you burn into memory the curves of Levi’s side profile when his voice cuts into the silence.

“Is there something on my face?” He glances over at you with a side eye. Heat rises into your cheeks and you shake your head in response. You look back out of your open window at the trees flying by. Again, you find yourself in an unfamiliar part of town. It almost looks residential with a lot of the homes overgrown with ivy and weather damage that happened over time.

‘Where are we going?’

“Our second to last stop, there’s someone I want you to meet. Then we will head to our last errand before the final destination.” We. Our. It’s not the first time that he’s used those words, but it never fails to make you giddy.

Levi pulls into another small parking lot, but this time attached to a large beige building. Dozens of arched windows line up evenly throughout the whole structure. Big wide sliding doors under a large blue canopy nestles in the middle. The building itself is symmetrical, both sides sprawled out like the wings of a dove.

‘What is this place?’

“Welcome to Riverside Assisted Living.” Levi puts the car into park and looks over at you. There’s a glimmer of worry in his eyes, his eyebrows knitted yet again. He’s waiting for a response. You want to reach over and smooth out his face, but instead you offer him a soft smile.

‘Your mom?’ Never mind the anxiety of meeting someone so important to Levi, the fact that he even wanted you to meet her is enough to make you want to explode. Instead, you swallow all of that down. Whatever his intention, Levi is worried about what you think. You’re already unbuckling your seat belt and making your way out of the car before he even confirms it with a 'yes’. When you don’t hear Levi moving, you glance back at him over your shoulder.

‘Are you coming?’ Levi stares at you for a moment before following suit. Once everything is locked, you and Levi make your way over to the front doors. He stops and looks over at you once more. You offer him that same soft smile from a moment ago. You don’t know if it’s enough to reassure him, but you would keep trying anyway.

“Ah, Mr. Ackerman. Welcome back! Unfortunately, you just missed the cake.” One of the receptionists pipes up from behind his computer. His eyes land on you and a bright, toothy smile replaces his previous kind one. “Oh, you brought your girlfriend!” Levi inhales sharply and chokes a little.

“I’m sorry, uh. Friend. Just-“ Levi clears his throat. “Just friend.” You smile back at the receptionist and nod in agreement, but you’d be lying if his quick response didn’t hurt you a little.

Levi hands you yours before slapping his own on his chest. You stare down at it for a moment before doing the same. You assume that these are just to let the employees know who you were here to see, but something in you feels thrilled from wearing his last name on you.

“Great, thank you.” At that, Levi heads off down the hall. You sign a quick thank you to the kind receptionist and follow Levi before he disappears from view.

Riverside Assisted Living is designed to be very welcoming and warm. Light yellow paints the hallways you both walk down. Miscellaneous vintage paintings break up the monotony - one portrait of a goose in particular makes you double take. It might be a little outdated, but it is lovely nonetheless. Some part of you feels a sense of familiarity, as if you had been here before - or at least something like it.

Levi continues down another hall that ends with a large glass door. Already, you can spot a few people milling about on plush green grass. When Levi reaches the end of the hall, he pulls the door open and holds it with his body, waiting for you to pass through. When you brush past Levi, the scent of faint cologne and fresh laundry wafts with you. As soon as you’re out the door, your mouth practically drops in awe.

The space is a lot larger than you expected it to be. This courtyard is surrounded by the rest of the building on each side and down a slight hill lies the river that cuts through. It’s separated by a white picket fence, probably to keep patients from accidentally wandering too far. There aren’t very many of them out as you initially thought. The ones you can see appear to be enjoying the sunshine in different ways. Levi calls your name, breaking you out of your thoughts.

"This way." Following his voice, you see him down the hill a bit. Levi points over to a small flower garden sitting by the river. There’s only one person sitting on a bench overlooking it all, their back to you so all you can see is long black hair blowing in the breeze. Your heart squeezes in your chest but you’re not sure if it’s from excitement or… something else.

You catch up with Levi in no time, much to your dismay. As you both walk over to who you assume is his mom, you’re suddenly hyper aware of what you’re wearing. You can’t keep your hands from fidgeting at the fabric of your blouse. Suddenly, Levi’s hand is on your wrist, holding it in place with a gentle grip.

“Stop. She’s going to love you. She already does, even if she won’t remember.” He whispers over to you, his eyes searching into yours earnestly. It takes a few deep breaths, but finally you nod back to him. The corners of his mouth twitch as he lets go of you. He gives you another long look before glancing back over to his mom.

“Stay here for a moment.” He makes his way over to the bench before stopping short on the unoccupied side.

“Kuchel?” Your eyes linger on Levi’s face, and you notice a subtle shift in his demeanor as he calls out for her. You see the woman in question turn and look over in his direction. You’re only given a glimpse of her side profile, but you’re able to see a semi-blank look on her face like she’s lost in thought. When her eyes focus, she just stares at Levi.

“Can I help you?” Her voice is soft and sweet, and it stirs something deep within you. It’s definitely familiar to you. Her expression goes from glassy to confused.

“Hi, I’m Levi. Can I sit with you?” Levi gestures to the empty side of the bench. Kuchel nods and watches as Levi lowers himself down before continuing on, “How are you today?”

“I’m okay today. The flowers are blooming very nicely.” She’s still looking at him wearily, but there’s a smile on her face now.

“They are. Which one is your favorite?” Levi’s voice has a gentleness to it that you never imagined was possible. There’s a matching smile on his lips now. Again, something you’ve never thought you’d see from him.

“It’s quite hard to choose. They’re all just so lovely.” She chuckles quietly and looks back over at the flowers dancing in the gentle wind.

“They are. I heard today is your birthday, is it okay to give you something?” Her birthday? In the recesses of your mind, a memory triggers. You’re at home and sharing a dessert that Kuchel had bought for the two of you as a gift, Levi and your brother both horsing around in the background. She says something to you and then together, you both blow out the single candle sticking out on top. That’s right, you and his mom share a birthday. It must have been a day that Levi’s dad was out, thankfully. Knowing what you know now, it warms your heart to know she was so kind to you when she didn’t have to be. Sharing not only her special day, but her dessert that she probably spent a good chunk of her paycheck on to afford it.

“Oh is it?” Kuchel looks back over to Levi with suspicion. She shifts on the bench and clasps her hands together on her lap. “Sure.”

Levi pulls out a little box he had tucked into his jeans and places it down in the space between them on the bench. She reaches over and takes it with shaky hands. You can’t see what it is from your angle, but it must have been nice. Kuchel reaches over and touches Levi’s face and gives his cheek a gentle squeeze.

“You are such a sweet boy. Thank you, it’s beautiful.” She lets go of Levi to put it back in the box and closes it.

“Speaking of, I’d like you to meet someone if that’s okay? I don’t want to overwhelm you if you’re not ready, though.” She just nods in response. With that, Levi glances over at you and beckons you over with a small wave. Taking a deep breath, you straighten up and walk over to Levi’s side of the bench. Kuchel’s eyes snap over to you.

“Kuchel, this is my good friend-“ She cuts Levi off with your name and it startles you both. You glance down at Levi nervously, not sure what to do. He looks over to his mom and raises an eyebrow.

“Ma?”

“Oh goodness me. You just remind me of someone I knew a long time ago.” Kuchel chuckles again and then looks over at Levi. There’s a clarity in her expression that wasn’t there before. “Oh is that my little Levi??” The smile on her face is infectious and you would have caught it if you weren’t so shocked.

“Hey Ma, it’s me.” He reaches over and grabs her hands in his. “You’re not wrong, this is her.” Levi looks over to you.

“There’s no way, look how grown she is!” Kuchel suddenly stands up and stares at you with disbelief. You wave at her sheepishly, still not certain of what to do.

“Yes, it’s been quite a while since you’ve last seen her. It’s her birthday today too, do you remember sharing it with her?” Levi asks gently. Kuchel steps over to you until she’s face to face with you. Levi must have gotten his height from her because she stands a couple inches below you. She stares up at your face, inspecting it. Being this close grants you a better look at her features so you study her just the same. Levi is practically a carbon copy of his mom. Everything down to the pouty bottom lip is Levi’s. She whispers your name, familiarity finally coming to her. Before you know it, she’s pulling you into a bear hug.

You’re so startled that it takes you a moment, but you eventually reciprocate it just as tightly. Something in you frays. This felt so warm, so comforting. So motherlike. Only when you pull away sniffling do you realize you’ve started crying. Kuchel reaches up and wipes your tears with a thumb, completely vexed by your actions.

“Why are you crying, darling?”

‘I’m sorry.’ Kuchel watches you sign curiously and then looks over to Levi.

“She’s mute, but she can hear you. She apologizes.” Levi pipes up behind you.

“Oh, honey, look at you! You’ve grown up so much. Happy birthday sweetheart.” She steps back to get a better look at you. “Oh my, you’re not a little girl anymore, are you? Are you taking care of yourself?” She grabs you by the shoulders and stares into your misty eyes as she continues to fuss over you. Her words affect you so much that tears start rolling down your face.

‘Can I hug you again?’ Levi translates for you. Kuchel nods and gives you a big smile before pulling you into another suffocating hug.

The rest of the visit felt like a blur. After your initial meeting, you had stepped back to let Levi visit with his mom. The three of you sat by the garden enjoying the breeze and each other’s company. At one point, Levi’s pinky makes its way to yours in the middle of conversation and he squeezes it gently before letting go like nothing happened. It ended with more big hugs and dragged-out goodbyes. You wouldn’t have minded staying a little longer, but Levi reminded you that you both had somewhere to be soon.

You find yourself staring out the window at the trees blurring green. It’s around early evening by this time, and you fight a yawn threatening to make its way out. The ride itself is silent, not even the radio is playing. Levi breaks it with a gentle voice.

“Are you okay?” You turn over to Levi and nod, offering a smile.

‘Yeah, just need a moment.’ He doesn’t respond, which leaves you both in silence again. You fidget with your seatbelt as you stew on what you really wanted to ask.

“It’s okay to ask.” Levi gives you a quick side-eye.

‘Does your mom have dementia?’ You spell it out in case he wouldn’t recognize the word. A moment passes before Levi speaks again.

“Yes. It’s been progressing quickly.”

‘Is this why she was in the hospital back in March?’

“Yeah, but it wasn’t this bad. Back in December is when she started showing symptoms of it. It took some time to get some answers.” Levi slows down for a red light. He fully turns his head to look over at you. There’s an evident darkness not only in his eyes but under them as well. You wonder if he’s gotten any sleep lately.

‘She’s just as lovely as I think I remember. I forgot we share a birthday.’ You think back to that memory from earlier. ’She is quite a wonderful person, isn’t she?’ Levi watches you carefully. He’s not just tired, there’s a level of exhaustion there that you just now notice. It takes everything in you to not fling yourself over to him and hold him. Thank goodness for the seatbelt.

“She really is.” He mumbles softly and looks back to the road. The light turns green, and the car starts rolling again.

‘Can I ask why the assisted living place and not with you?’ Levi grips the steering wheel tightly and purses his lips. You’re afraid you might have pushed too hard, but he just sighs.

“It was her request. She didn’t want to burden me with her illness, even though I told her many times it didn’t matter to me. It’s what she wanted.” Levi mutters.

‘You’re a good son. She really loves you.’ He chuckles at that.

“So she says.”

‘Does it hurt to talk about her? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.’ Levi’s face falls a bit. Your heart breaks for him.

“No, no it’s not that. I just- I don’t talk about her much, so. This is different.”

‘Will you talk about her more then? If you’d like. I’d love to listen.’

And so, he does the entire car ride. Even after he made a quick stop at a bakery on the way, he continued without issue. At some point in his stories, he actually starts smiling. One that makes your heart flutter and soar. You twisted in the passenger seat with your head resting against the top of it, staring at Levi while he talks animatedly about the things he and his mom used to get up to. There’s a lightness in his eyes and you swear he briefly turned into that little boy you vaguely remember so long ago.

You’ve only been over for his occasional game nights, something he decided to do once he saw how successful Hange’s movie nights went. After a bit, Levi slows down in front of a familiar house, the street filled with multiple cars. Fortunately, the driveway is clear, and Levi ends up pulling up into it. Much to your surprise, your sister is standing out waiting, waving their hands up above their hands like they were flagging a plane.

“Damn shorty, took you long enough! We’ve been waiting forever!” Hange screeches the moment you both slide out of the vehicle. Levi grabs the bakery box from the back seat and rolls his eyes once he meets Hange’s gaze.

“You asked me to distract. So, I did.” He scoffs then heads through a gate connected to the backyard, disappearing from view.

‘What are you doing??’ You ask as Hange bounds over to you with a wide grin.

“Don’t worry about it. Turn around and close your eyes.” You cock an eyebrow at her in disbelief. “Trust me.” It was your turn to roll your eyes, but you do as you’re told. Suddenly, Hange’s warm hands are covering your eyes from behind. “And walk.”

You’re not sure if they did it on purpose but at one point you end up walking face first into the fence. They apologize through a fit of giggles and you attempt to kick at her from behind, missing of course. Eventually, Hange stops you. There are a myriad of noises coming from a lot of different places and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little overwhelmed.

“Don’t open your eyes until I say, okay?” You nod and then feel Hange’s hands pull away. A couple beats and then you hear them shout, “Okay, now!” When you open your eyes, it takes a moment for them to adjust from the abrupt change in brightness. But when they do, you’re again for what feels like the millionth time today, at a loss for words.

Nanaba, Onyankopon, Furlan, Moblit, and Hange all have their arms wide open as they yell ‘SURPRISE!’. Miche and Erwin are off to the side, standing by a grill, and they’re both smiling as well. Levi is nowhere to be found. A hand goes to your mouth as you stare in bewilderment at the rest of the yard.

The entire backyard is strung up with fairy lights and multi-colored streamers. On the back fence, a large white screen is pinned up and in front of that on the grass are multiple bean bags and spread-out blankets. There’s a long table tucked into that corner with a popcorn maker and a ton of other snacks that you couldn’t make out from here. The other corner has a table filled with presents of various sizes and colors. In the center, there’s a large rectangular table all set with dishware, cutlery, and various covered platters. A cookout and movie night it seems like, and you couldn’t be more thrilled.

You jump excitedly and run to your friends, hugging each of them tightly. No amount of thank yous could cover the gratitude you felt for each of them.

“Man, it took you so long to get here! Did Levi hold you hostage?” Nanaba jokes. She has a beer in hand and she’s already pink in the face from it. She must be a couple drinks in, you guess. You shake your hand in a ‘maybe’ gesture at her and she just laughs.

“He didn’t wreck my car, did he?” Erwin laughs down at you as you run over. Miche ruffles your hair, and you smack him away with a grin. Both of them also have a beer can in hand, laid back in airy casual clothes. You turn to Erwin and shake your head in response only to raise an eyebrow at his apron. The words ‘Dedicate your heart to grilling’ in large red letters decorate the front.

“What do you think? It looks good, right?” Erwin tugs at it and wiggles his big brows at you then directs his attention back to the grill, flipping something you can’t see from this angle. It smells delicious.

“Did you and Levi have a good time out today?” Miche mutters down to you quietly, taking a swig from his can. Before you can respond, you’re startled by loud voice from behind.

“Ah yes, please do tell!” Your sister yells as they saunter over to your little group. They have a plastic tiara in their hands, sunshine glaring off every corner of it. Before you can protest, she slides it into your hair and slaps your hands down when you attempt to move it. Hange wraps an arm around your shoulders when she’s satisfied then bumps her head against yours gently as she says, “What did you and Levi do today?” Even Erwin’s eyes are on you as you shrink back from the sudden focus on you and Levi.

‘It was good. We got lunch together and then we went to visit his mom.’ Hange translates for Miche. Erwin, however, stares over at you with shock.

“He took you to visit his mom?”

‘Yeah, she’s quite lovely. We share a birthday.’ You get this feeling like Erwin didn’t know that. In their many years of friendship, he’s had to have met Kuchel at least once, right? He only hums in thought and continues on with his job.

“That sounds like a lovely time. I’m glad he took care of you.” Hange winks and pokes your cheek before letting go of you and turns you to face them. “Okay so here are the plans. We’re going to mingle, we’re going to eat, we’re going to open presents, and then we’re watching your favorite movie while we eat snacks and hang out. How does that sound?” You pull her into a tight hug in response and she laughs loudly.

“Sounds like a yes to me. Hey Erwin, how much longer?” Onyankopon joins in on your little huddle. You pull away from Hange and turn around to see where everyone else is. Moblit and Furlan are both messing with the projector and Nanaba is pulling another drink out of the cooler under the snack table. Levi is still nowhere to be found.

‘Excuse me.’ You sign quickly before slipping away towards the sliding glass doors that lead into Onyankpon’s house.

When you step in, it’s noticeably cooler. ‘Pon’s house is very much a bachelor pad, and you had said so the first time you came over. At least he has style, you think. At first, everything is quiet save for the snap of the door as you close it behind you. You stand there for a moment. Suddenly, your ears twitch at something metal being placed down on a counter in the kitchen. There you are.

When you round the corner, you spot Levi sitting at the island top with a mug in hand as he stares out the kitchen window. He seems lost in thought. His dark eyes trail over to you at your movement but says nothing.

‘Can I join you?’ He nods and jerks his head to the seat next to him.

“Bored already?” Levi says as you sit down. His voice is tired.

‘Not necessarily. I just didn’t want to celebrate without everyone there.’ He takes another sip and hunches forward on the counter onto his elbows.

‘Did you want to talk about it, Levi?’ He sets his mug down and puts his face in his propped-up hand, tilting his head so that he’s looking at you dead-on. Levi purses his lips.

“I just miss her.�� He whispers over at you. You don’t resist it this time – you reach over and brush away some of the hair that fell into his eyes. He doesn’t jump at your touch anymore, you realize.

‘It must be difficult doing this alone. You don’t have to be.’ There’s a brief moment where you’re both staring at each other before Levi reaches over and lightly grips your wrist in his long fingers, tugging you closer. They’re cold, creating goosebumps that pop up all over your arms – or was it the proximity of Levi? You’re not certain of what might happen next, but you don’t resist. His lips part as if to say something but is interrupted by Furlan yelling from the hallway, the increase in volume signifying his quick approach. Levi has already let go and is focusing hard on his mug.

“Where are you both?! Dinner is ready!” Furlan rounds the corner and stops abruptly as his eyes land on you and Levi. He smirks and leans against the archway. “There you two are.”

“We’re coming, jeez. Calm down.” Levi grumbles next to you as he stands up. He walks over to the sink to rinse his mug out. When you glance back over to Furlan, he winks at you and leaves the way he came. Levi steps past you but you reach out and grab his wrist to keep him from leaving. He looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. You made him stop but you don’t even know what to say or do next.

“There’s no need to make them wait for the birthday girl any longer than they already have.” He mutters down to you. He moves his fingers so that they’re interlaced with yours and pulls you up from your chair with a gentle pull. He stares at you with his cloudy gray eyes before eventually saying, “We can talk more later.” And then he’s leading you through the house and back out the glass door.

Dinner was fun, as it always is with your group of friends. Despite the amount of energy you put into refusing, you were made to sit at the head of the table – with your plastic tiara no less. You ended up not really minding as much as you thought you would. This seat granted you the best spot to watch your friends mess around and chat. Levi wound up being put at the other end of the table, so you were able to catch his eye a couple times throughout. At some point, you had gotten so lost in thought about him that Hange had to throw a chip at you to break you out of it.

“Thinking about all the presents we got you?” Hange jokes once you focus on her face.

‘Just thinking about how ridiculous yours is going to be.’ You stick your tongue out at them.

“Oh, you're going to regret that. Clear the plates! IT’S TIME.” Your sister is practically vibrating in excitement. This isn’t different from her usual self, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested.

You were told to stay in your seat as everyone else cleaned off the table and set it up with the presents. Hange comes by and swipes what you suspect is hers and you assume she’s going to bring it to you to open it first, but instead she holds it in her arms.

“Yes, I know, I usually ask to go first. But not this time.” She grins wickedly. Forget interest, you’re now afraid. You reach for another package with caution, eyeballing your sister.

It’s small with simple gold wrapping. ‘Erwin’ is written in neat font on the top of it. You glance up at the gift-giver in question. He has chin in his hands as he stares over at you with hard focus. You hate to ruin the presentation, but you can’t help as your excitement wins out and you tear into it. A small box with a yellow polaroid camera stares back at you. You sit up straight and smile widely at Erwin as you sign a ‘thank you’ to him.

“You’re welcome! You know I got myself one too. They’re quite neat, don’t you think?” He says boisterously. His reaction makes you laugh as you set it aside to open the next one.

It went like this for the next half hour. You are gifted clothes and travel items, all summer themed. You know that it’s probably because Summer is right around the corner, but there’s a part of you that feels like these gifts were all coordinated. There’s a moment where you’re just side-eying Hange as they hold your gift hostage, but they just shrug their shoulders with a smug grin.

Finally, you’re down to the last one, and by process of elimination, you know it’s Levi’s. You catch his eye at the end of the table again. He’s leaning back in his chair as he stares over at you, a hint of amusement in his face. Levi’s gift is in the form of a small, blue envelope. You eye him curiously as you flip it open and pull the contents out. A folded slip of paper is the only thing that comes out of it. At first glance once you open it, you notice it’s a printed email from a place called Jinae Community Aquatic Center.

This email is to confirm your reserved spot for adult swimming lessons

Your first lesson is scheduled for Saturday, June 3rd at 10:00am.

Location: Pool B

Please bring appropriate swimming gear as well as your filled out forms attached to this email.

We look forward to seeing you then!

-JCAC

You stare over at Levi with bewilderment. Swimming lessons? You knew how to swim, kind of. But this was truly the most random gift out of them all.

‘What is this?’ Hange comes over to you and takes the paper to get a better look at it.

“Yeah, Levi, what is this? I thought we agreed you’d get her some floaties?” Hange whines as she stares over at him.

“Well, with the lessons, we’ll know she can swim for sure. Floaties not needed.” He shrugs and looks away disinterested.

Why would you need swimming lessons?

‘What is going on?’ You stare back up at your sister, puffing your cheeks out in slight annoyance.

“Okay okay, just open this last one. It’ll make sense then.” She places it in front of you on the table and steps back. You look back up at everyone else and they’re watching in anticipation. As usual, you rip it apart and under the wrapping is a clothing box. Pulling off the lid reveals an envelope on top of sheer stuffing paper. You go for the envelope first, pulling the flap open and revealing the contents.

Inside is another confirmation email, but this time from an international airline. You stand up from your seat quickly as you read the information on it, the chair clattering backwards behind you from the sudden shift in movement. This email confirms flights for four people, all set to take off early on the morning of June 20th. You’ve never heard of this town Liberio before, but you didn’t care. It was in a whole other country, and you were going in a month.

You jump up and down in excitement then tackle Hange with a hug before letting go and signing, ‘Who is all coming?’

“Take a guess, goofball.” She shifts her gaze to Erwin and Levi. “I tried roping in everyone else but apparently, they have ‘better’ things going on.” She stares at Onyankopon with a teasing glare.

“You just had to schedule it the same time I’m going back home to visit.” ‘Pon rolls his eyes.

“Hange didn’t even tell me until like a week ago. Besides, I’m kind of out of vacation days.” Furlan chirps in, rubbing the back on his neck awkwardly.

When you look over at Miche, he just shrugs and says, “Beach towns aren’t really my thing. Saves me some money.”

“Listen, I wanted to!! But,” Nanaba glances over to Miche and for a split second you pick up on a vibe you hadn’t before. You squint your eyes at Miche, but he just avoids your eyes, opting to take a drink of his beer instead. “Prior commitments, sorry.” She looks over at you apologetically.

‘It’s okay. This is perfect! We’re going to have so much fun!’ You fling your arms around Hange again and squeeze tight.

“There’s one more present from me. Pull it out.” That wicked gleam is back in her eyes.

You pull back the paper between pinched fingers like there’s a bomb under it. Something pink catches your eye. You touch it and it’s a soft fabric. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you pull it out all the way and regret it immediately. Dangling from a hanger is a two-piece baby pink bathing suit. A very exposed and suggestive one, at that. Across the way, you see Levi spitting out the drink he had just taken a sip of with his eyes bulging out of his face. Nanaba laughs and wolf whistles.

“Hange, c’mon. Really?” Erwin chastises Hange with a very bright pink face – it almost matches the suit.

“What? I think she’ll look really cute in it.” You place it gingerly back in the box and cover it up. Your face heats up from embarrassment. You cut your eyes over to your sister and make a face at her.

“What?! She will!!” With that, you quickly tuck the box away with your other gifts and grab Hange by the face with both hands to get their attention.

‘Thank you. But if you’re done embarrassing me, can we go watch a movie now?’ Hange laughs and grabs you by the arm before pulling you with her to the beanbags.

It takes a while for the late spring sun to start setting, but eventually you find yourself sitting in a cushy bean bag snuggled up with your sister picking at a shared bowl of popcorn. The final decision on the movie landed on you since ‘it’s your special day’. You honestly didn’t care so you clicked on the first thing that passed by – an action thriller. With cars racing and buildings exploding, it would at least be fun for everyone.

Moblit and Furlan’s set up was on par with a drive-in, possibly even better. They had somehow connected a surround sound system with noise-sensitive LED lights creating a very immersive experience. With every explosion, the lights would flash a matching orange mixed with a resounding boom. Unfortunately, even that couldn’t hold your attention as your mind wandered early on into the film.

For one, the news of the beach trip next month really threw you for a loop. Hange had explained the circumstances of how the trip came to be as you all waited for the sun to set enough.

Apparently, Erwin had this trip planned for a while as an anniversary vacation for him and Carly back before November happened. He brought it up to Hange because unfortunately a lot of it was non-refundable and he didn’t want it to go to waste. Erwin had initially offered to gift it to you and your sister as a surprise but Hange being Hange, they had talked Erwin into extending the trip and coming with.

From there, your mind wanders to Levi – as it tends to do with everything. You couldn’t believe that Erwin and Hange had successfully talked him into closing the shop for a week and a half so he could make it too. Even though you had only known Levi for a short time, you knew this was not his thing. The traveling, the summer heat, especially the crowds. And yet, he was willing to come. You have a sneaking suspicion as to why.

You feel a stare burning into the back of your head and when you look back to see who it’s from, you catch Levi watching you from a couple bean bags over. You raise your hand in a small wave and he does the same. There’s that knot in his eyebrows again and you wonder what he might be thinking about. Probably the same thing you are. Levi holds your gaze a little longer before he shifts in his seat and looks away.

There’s something going on between the two of you, you can’t deny that. And you think he knows that too. Part of you wonders why he’s taking so long to say anything but then again, so are you. But you don’t know how much longer you can hold yourself back anymore. If it wasn’t for the self-doubt clawing in your chest, you would go over to him and kiss him right now.

Levi doesn’t get home until around one in the morning, not like that bothered him much. He was accustomed to being up at weird hours. Fresh out of the shower, Levi runs a towel through his wet hair as he sits himself down at his desk chair. He settles into the soft cushion and leans back, closing his eyes for a moment.

That’s twice now that Levi almost kissed you.

Though, it would have been much more if he acted on his impulsive thoughts.

He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palm and groans. These feelings for you were starting to consume every part of him and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out. It was coming to the point where if he doesn’t talk to you about it soon, he might combust. There’s no mistaking how you both just make sense together, as stupid as it sounds to him.

‘It must be difficult doing this alone. You don’t have to be.’

There’s always been a part of him that knows he doesn’t have to do it alone. Even after years of figuratively carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, he knew. But getting out of that mindset was not something he thought he had an option to do - until you. He’s never had someone offer to be there for him. Granted, he never lets anyone in like that in the first place. But as startling as it is, he was okay letting those walls down – if it’s for you. You were offering to take the weight of the sky with him so that he didn’t have to suffer alone.

Sitting up, his fingers move fast as he grabs his phone from the desk and clicks on your name. It rings once before the line clicks open. There’s silence of course, but your soft breathing is enough to ensure that you were there. A moment passes and his phone buzzes with a message.

‘Are you okay?��

“I just didn’t want to be alone.” Levi mutters. He hears something scratch on the other side and then another buzz.

‘I’ll be here as long as you need.’

You ended up falling asleep about half an hour later, but Levi didn’t mind. Your deep breathing from the other end calms him so much so that before he knows it, he wakes up in his chair to the early morning light filtering into his bedroom. The line is still on, and you’re still there.

☾ Previous Chapter: April ☾ Next Chapter: June - Part One

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spicywhenspeaking · 5 months

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If I'm There: Chapter Fourteen

its the halloween episode !

image source (x)

read from part one here!

summary: Noah and Natalie meet in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.

taglist : @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @blackveilomens @thisbicc @thebadchic

It’s two weeks until Noah’s birthday party and only a few days after that, he will leave to go on tour. He was able to get his leave of absence approved by the school. The counselor gave him a huge stack of papers and workbooks that he’s expected to complete to get the credit for the rest of the semester.

When I walk into Noah's room after his meeting I see the huge pile. “Wow,” I comment. “That's a lot!”

He nods in recognition and waves it off. “I can help you with some stuff before y’all leave again and when you get back I can be your tutor.”

Noah laughs “Only if you promise to dress up like a sexy librarian.” Giggling I playfully smack his shoulder. “You pig.”

He stands and wraps his arms around me, picking me up and swinging me on the bed. “Oh hush…you like it,” he winks and settles his body on top of mine. “Don’t worry about the school stuff. It’s the last thing on my mind… right now there's only one thing I can't stop thinking about.”

He says as he places kisses all over my face and down my neck, lightly sucking on the pulse point that's now pumping faster. Noah's hands begin to roam and squeeze my breasts gently as a soft moan escapes my mouth. Before anything gets any further we hear someone barging into the house.

Nick quickly rounds the corner of the hallway and shrieks when he sees us tangled together on the bed and covers his eyes dramatically. “WOAH! sorry! But dude! We have band practice!” Nick says and Noah collapses onto me. “Bro…horrible timing.” I scootch out from under him and adjust my clothes. “I guess I should probably head into work now.” Noah rounds the bed to where I am and wraps his arms around me. “I’ll be counting down the hours until you get back.” I laugh at his ridiculous words. “It won’t be that long, you can come and pick me up at 9,” I respond leaning up to kiss him softly ignoring Nick’s fake gags of disgust and Noah flips him off for both of us.

Thankfully we weren’t interrupted by Nick later that night.

The rest of the time before the party goes by pretty fast. I try not to push it, but Noah doesn’t do any of the schoolwork in those two weeks. Before I know it, it’s Halloween and Noah is dropping me off at work before heading back to his house to get ready for the party with Nick.

Outside of the coffee shop, we spend a few minutes saying goodbye before I have to head in. “Happy birthday Noah,” I tell him in between kisses. “The happiest one now that I have you.” He responds sweetly against my lips. “I’ll see you tonight,” I say to him and then he says in his best Frankenstein voice “Until then my bride.” Laughing, I walk towards the coffee shop and wave before heading in.

Work is slow, so Maggie and I can get ready during our shifts. She’s driving me back to the party when we’re off and will crash on the couch at Noah’s if she parties as hard as she's hoping to. I’m trying not to let other people's drinking upset me, not everyone has a problem like my mom, and we are only young once.

It's 9 pm when we get the go-ahead from our manager to close up early for the night. We finish up our makeup and Maggie helps me get my hair to stand the right way. I didn’t want to get the wig so I’m doing my own take on Frankenstein’s Bride by wearing my hair in a 60’s style updo with sprayed white pieces, disheveled just enough to look like I was brought back to life with a lightening blast. Before heading to the party we swing by my house to pick up Noah’s gift. It’s a signet ring with a N on it that I saw at a vintage shop in town. I hope he likes it. After getting ready and then running by my house it's already 9:45 by the time we drive up to Noah's house. There’s already a lot of cars but we manage to find a spot that's not too far away.

The front door is unlocked and we walk right in. It's a sea of people I don’t recognize, but a lot of people are wearing masks. “Nice costume.” a random guy comments and leers at me. The music is loud and unfamiliar. Maggie tells me to go find Noah and that she’s going to the kitchen to start taking shots. I laugh and shoo her away. I check around the living room and walk through the house. I don't see Noah or any people I’ve met at the shows I’ve been to. I do notice, however, a lot of people are drinking or already drunk. Deep breaths Natalie, you’re fine. Making my way through the rest of the house I decide to check the garage.

I find Noah with Nick and more people I don’t recognize smoking weed and drinking out of red Solo cups. I notice Alex, the girl from the other band is here too, with a lit joint hanging out of her mouth.

“Looks like the girlfriend finally showed up,” Alex says with a weird edge that I can’t quite place. I notice Nick’s brows furrow slightly at her but he seems to shrug it off and nods to greet me with a smile. “How was work Nat?” he asks and at the same time, Noah yells “myyy briiiide!! She has returned!”

“It was good” I laugh in answer to Nick as Noah strides the short distance between us and pulls me close to press a firm kiss against my lips and then sweeps me up into his arms causing a surprising squeal to escape me. “I must away with my bride.” Noah jokes as he takes me through the party into his room so we can have a few minutes alone to talk. Laughing at his antics, I wrap my arms around his neck and press a kiss to his cheek leaving a red lipstick mark. I move to wipe it but he moves his head away too fast. “No way Natty, keep it there.” I continue giggling as we pass more unfamiliar voices until we reach his room. Fumbling with the door while trying to balance me in his arms he manages to finally get it open and throws me onto the bed, kicking it shut again behind him.

Sitting up and straightening out my dress I reach into the small shoulder bag I was carrying to pull out the box and card. “Happy birthday Noah.” I smile and hand them both to him as he settles down on the bed next to me. “Natty! You didn't have to get me anything.” I can tell Noah is a little stoned by the goofy way he’s talking but it’s kind of cute. “You’re already my best present.” He nuzzles his head into my neck and leaves a wet kiss. I move my hand to cup his face “And you’ll get plenty of me later, now open your gift.” His eyes sparkle with delight. “Yes ma’am” he jokes and he opens the card to read it.

Happy birthday Noah, I hope this is one of the best ones.

*Inside is several pictures printed out of Noah and Natalie. Smiling, Kissing. One of Natalie on Noah's back, both laughing.

“Baaaabe this is so fucking cute,” Noah says and leans over to kiss me. Smiling into it I tell him “There’s more, open the box.” I say to him.

Noah opens the box and sees the silver ring. “Oh wow Nat, this is awesome!” He pulls it out and puts the ring on his ring pointer finger. “N for Natalie right?” I shake my head “No, N for Noah.” He cups his hands around my face and leans to press a kiss to my lips. “N for Natalie.” Melting into the kiss I don’t have the energy to disagree.

When we emerge from his room an hour or so later, slightly disheveled, I tell him I’m going to look for Maggie to check on her. When I find her she’s stumbling down the hallway and I manage to catch her before she collapses on the ground. “Naaatyyyyy there you are!! Did you find Noah and give him your present? Oh! Looks like you gave him more than that. You have sex eyes.” Hiking her arm over my shoulder to hold her up I lead her into the nearest bathroom. “Let's just get you cleaned up.” Upon seeing the toilet, Maggie is quick to rush over and empty out the contents of her stomach. Coming up behind her, I gently pat her back in soothing circles. I’m used to this part, the sickness that follows the highs of a drunken night. Your worries for that moment are gone and you can just be loose and fun..at least that’s how some people make it look.

We stay in the bathroom for a while and I get Maggie cleaned up and help her into Noah's Mom’s room. It’s dark and quiet, the perfect place for her to crash for the night. Leading her onto the bed I lay her down and pull the trash can to the side in case she gets sick again.

I try and push my way through the wall of people that as grown. I didn’t even know Noah had this many friends. I bump into people as I navigate my way toward the kitchen, having to make my way through the dance floor that is really just the living room. Some guy bumps into me and sloshes his warm beer onto my outfit and I’m overwhelmed by the smell. “Oh- burp- sorry,” he says and I wave him off just trying to get out of the mess of strange people and smells. My eyes are scanning the crowds to try and find Noah’s familiar face. After what feels like an eternity I manage to push my way to the kitchen where I hear his laugh and sigh with relief.

Noah, Nick, Alex, and other people I met in the garage are all gathered in the kitchen drinking. I wasn’t gone with Maggie for that long, I thought, but I guess it was long enough for them to have drank a significant enough amount to get tipsy. “Baaabe you found us!” Noah slurs and he slings his arm around my shoulder. I laugh softly and lean into his warmth. “Yeah, Maggie is crashing in your Mom’s room. She had a little too much to drink.” I take his cup and take a small sip. “Jesus, you want some mixer with your tequila?” I joke as I hand him the drink back and untangle myself to grab a water bottle before retuning to his side.

“Let’s do shots!” Alex shouts from the kitchen counter that she’s perched on. One of the other guys lines up a bunch of shot glasses and pours a bottle of something in them and starts handing them out. I politely decline and I hear Alex scoff. “You can’t even let loose for Noah’s birthday? Come on Natalie..live a little.” She says and Nick starts to say something but I cut in “I’ll have plenty of time to let loose with Noah later.” I look up at Noah and wink while remaining tucked into his side while Alex rolls her eyes.

Raising their shots in the air they all call out “Happy birthday Noah!” and Alex ends with “Congrats to the birthday boy for joining us degens in the dropout club.” They down their shots and it takes me a second to register what she just said.

“What are you talking about? Noah’s not dropping out. Right?” My eyes move to Noah’s and he is stuck staring guiltily at the floor. “What is she talking about Noah?” I ask.

“You told me you told her already man,” Nick says. “Um, why don’t we talk about this later Nat,” Noah says in a hushed whisper. I feel like the friend at the party that wasn’t invited to the sleepover after. Like the only one that doesn’t understand the inside joke.

“Noah, what is she talking about? I thought you were finishing remotely? That’s what you told me.” I tell him and he shifts uncomfortably.

“Yeah..rockstars don't have a lot of time for homework on the road…” Alex says again and I don’t know what comes over me but I’m sick of hearing this girl I don’t even know talk to me like she has any say in anything. My hand flies up, motioning Alex to stop talking. “Just shut up.” I seethe at her and I angle my head to face Noah again.

“So when were you planning on telling me? Just talked it all over with Alex and made the decision together?” I snap at him and walk out of the kitchen in search of fresh air.

Noah is stumbling after me trying to catch up. The front door slams behind him as he grabs my arm and whips me back around to him. “Natty, you’re being fucking dramatic. What the fuck was that? I get you're upset but it’s my birthday, that was fucking embarrassing.”

I rip my arm back tears falling down my face at his outburst. “Embarrassing? You know what’s embarrassing? Having some bitch I don’t even know have more insight about my boyfriend’s life than me! How long were you going to keep up the lie that you’re still in school?” I ask.

He looks way more fucked up in the moonlight, It makes my skin itch with discomfort. “I don’t know what hurts me more, the fact that you’ve been lying to me for weeks about something so stupid or that the only person who said anything was some girl who for some reason hates me,” I say and tears are spilling down my face. Noah stumbles closer, moving to wipe them but I take another step back. Everything else disappears, all I can focus on is Noah and all I can feel is a deep and heavy dread. The seedling of jealousy sprouted into an untamable beast.

“Natalie, please just let me explain,” Noah says. “I just- looking at all that work? Just for this degree that doesn’t fucking matter, It would have been a waste of time.”

“But why didn’t you tell me? All this time you knew you were just dropping out and you didn’t tell me? Was I just supposed to find out at graduation?” My voice is breaking and exasperated. “I just- I don’t know why you would keep that from me.”

“I just-” he starts. “I didn’t think you’d understand.” Noah breathes out. “You’re all about school and grades and shit and that just doesn’t matter to me. Alex dropped out and her band is thriving, because she can focus all of her time on it.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure Alex is thinking about what’s in your best interest.” I wipe the tears off my face with the back of my hand. “I can’t believe you didn’t think I’d understand Noah. I asked you to consider your possibilities.” More tears are falling and I see that his eyes are glistening slightly. “I said I supported you and you lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie..technically.” He says and I can tell he barely believes it himself.

“So what else are you not technically telling me the truth about?” The question leaves my mouth before I have time to stop it.

“That's not fair Natalie, I didn’t intentionally keep it from you to hurt you.” Noah retorts. “Do you really think I would keep things from you?”

“You did! You just did Noah! You thought I would judge you, not like your new friends who all don’t care about anything right? Natalie only cares about school and grades. Boring ol’d Natalie couldn’t possibly understand anything about your lifestyle right?” It’s a mixture of feeling like an outsider, at the party and tonight in my own relationship.

“Natty, please don’t cry.” Noah comes closer and I don’t step back when he wipes the tears from my face that have continued to fall. Even harder now that he’s comforting me. How fucked up is that the person that’s causing my tears is the only person I want to help me feel better. “I don’t want to make you cry again.”

My eyes are fixed on the ground. “I can’t help but think where I fit into all of this. your life is so different from mine, is there even room for me in it anymore.”

“Natalie, I love you. What do you even mean?” Noah says pulling my chin up to meet his eyes and I can still smell the alcohol on his breath. My own eyes are red-rimmed and clouded with tears that have refused to stop falling.

“I think I’m going to head home and we can talk in the morning when you’re sober, I’m just going to call Kyle to come and get me since Maggie is not good to drive.”

He takes a step back and something flashes across his face I don't recognize. “Not too long ago, I was the one you were calling to rescue you from him and now look at us. This isn’t what I wanted Nat. I - I didn’t want this to happen.”

“I know Noah, let’s not fight about this. It’s your birthday, you should go have fun. I’m just going to head out. The drinking and everything, It’s just too much for me. I thought I could handle it, but its just - its to much.”

I call Kyle and have a hard time holding back the emotion in my voice, he’s at a party a few minutes away and he’ll be there soon. Noah sits with me on the curb while I wait for him to pull up.

Ten minutes later Kyles whipping out of the car and over to my side. I get up to go not seeing the rage in Kyle’s eyes, not noticing he was heading straight for Noah who stood up with me.

“I knew you’d pull some stupid shit like this and now she’s calling me fucking crying because of your bullshit,” Kyle says as he’s surprises me by pushing Noah back further onto the front lawn.

“Kyle! Let’s just go, please. Come on! stop.” I’m pulling Kyle back and I guess the commotion alerted the people inside and the others are gathered out the front door. Nick runs to help create more of a separation between the two. “Nick, can you grab Maggie and bring her down? I’m going to head home.” He nods and moves to go get her. With Kyle distracted Noah uses the chance to take a swing. “Fuck you man! You don’t know anything. I love her.”

I move out of the way in time to miss any of the punches Kyle takes and watch in horror. He wipes blood from his mouth and says “Yeah, you love fucking up her life,” then he pounces. Swinging his full strength at Noah. “Shit!” I say and try to pull them apart taking an accidental elbow in the commotion of it all. Someone else pulls Noah away and Kyle and I stumble back as Nick returns with Maggie hanging off of his shoulders. “What the fuck!” Nick yells and I’m too preoccupied with my now bleeding nose. “Ow.” I mumble and Kyle turns to see my blood-drenched dress. “Oh shit, Nat. Are you okay?” he asks and I glare my eyes at him. “No, I’m not fucking okay. Get Maggie. Let’s go.” Looking up I see Noah standing next to Alex of all people, he sees my nose and deflates. “Natty-” he starts. “Just let her go,” Alex says and I can see him struggle with what to do. “I’ll call you tomorrow okay?” he says in a small voice.

“Okay,” I respond as the three of us get into the car and drive away from the scene I unintentionally created. On the drive home, I just lay my head against the cold glass as fresh hot tears stream down my face.

Once I’m home I climb up the stairs while Kyle sets Maggie up in the guest room. I shower and wash the makeup and blood from my face. Looking into the mirror I can tell I’ll probably have a black eye from the hit I took to the nose. Despite the adrenaline from the fight I’m out as soon as my head touches my pillow.

I wake up late and around 10 am I have a text from Noah asking me if I can meet him outside to talk.

Noah’s face is red and blotchy when I get to him and he takes a breath when he sees the purple bruising around my eyes. “Fuck Nat, was that me?” He asks in a weak voice.

I touch the tender skin and shrug. “A lot was going on, It could have been Kyle but it was an accident.”

“I’m sorry about last night Noah, I shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that,” I say to him and the wind picks up blowing my hair around. He’s wearing a beanie and his hair stays calm against the nape of his neck. “Why are you apologizing? I should be apologizing to you.” He says and his voice breaks. “God, I was such a drunk ass.”

“I should have waited to talk to you about it in private. Yelling at you in front of everyone was so lame.” My voice is calm and even now that we are away from the chaos of the party.

“I should have never lied to you Natalie, that was fucked up. I should have told you from the start that I planned to drop out. I can’t believe I yelled at you. Fought your brother. Again. And you ended up hurt and crying.” He’s rambling now, which is usually my thing. “I always seem to be the one hurting you lately.”

“That’s not true Noah. It was a stupid fight. It’s okay.” I try to reassure him.

He looks up at me and his eyes are glossy with tears. “Noah, what’s wrong?” I ask suddenly worried.

“Nat. I love you so much.” He says and a single tear runs down his cheek.

“I love you too,” I tell him.

“I love you, but I can’t do this.” his words break at the end and I don’t know what he’s saying.

“Can’t do what?” I ask as the world stands still.

“I can’t do this anymore. We can’t be together. I’m not good for you.” Now more tears are falling down his face and I don’t even notice my own have started falling as well.

“You’re breaking up with me?” My voice squeezes out.

“I’m sorry Nat - you’ll be better off without me.” He wipes his tears and tries to put on a brave face. “It’s for the best.”

And my heart shatters.

“I’m sorry Noah, I’m so sorry. Please don’t do this. I love you.” I move to bury my head against his chest and his breath hitches.

“We can’t Natalie. I- We just can’t. I can’t be what you need right now.” He says.

I take a deep shuttering breath and step away seeing the stains my tears left on his shirt.

“There’s nothing else I can say.” I stare at the ground. “You’ve already made up your mind.”

“I’m sorry, It’s for the best.” He gives me one last lingering kiss on the forehead and quickly moves to get back into his car. No longing stares and waves goodbye, he just takes off and leaves me a blubbering mess on my front yard.

crying and screaming and throwing up ....NOOOO WHYYYY

next ->

43 notes · View notes

cheolhub · 9 months

Text

UR INVITED 2 CHEOLHUB'S 1ST BDAY BASH!

ABOUT THE EVENT ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

HELLOOOOO! ok first of all, no one comment on my header (unless ur complimenting it 😊), i dropped my art minor after 3 months bc i lack artistic skill and i’ve made it very clear here. NEXT, it’s not MY birthday but cheolhub will officially be a YEAR old on the 26th of august & i wanted to celebrate with a lil sleepover event :> i've had so many ups and downs while running this blog and have almost abandoned it more times than i can count, so i just want to say CHEERS to cheolhub (aka sar aka me) for making it this far <3 i am eternally grateful for every kind message, every piece of feedback, and everyone who has been supporting me and my silly lil blog. i love u guys sm and would’ve been long gone without you T^T <3 i hope you'll join the celebration!! -3- and if this flops, you’ll never hear from me again /j /j /j

i knowww it’s early, but i start uni classes again next week (my last semester, yay 😻) and i wanna have time to do an event T-T

SLEEPOVER DATES ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

this event runs for about two weeks! from sunday, august 13th to sunday, august 27th. any asks sent after august 27th will be deleted!

please note that i’ll still be working on asks (if i have any left) even after the event is closed.

EVENTS ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

！★﹕ᶻ﹐LET'S EAT﹒

☆︎ who's hungry? 👹🍽 request a short (less than 1k) drabble and you shall receive. i will be writing the first 5-10 requests due to my busy uni schedule :3 — choose a prompt (or two) from this prompt list + a member from seventeen, txt or the boyz! [closed] (ik the list isnt numbered, so just copy + paste ur preferred prompt(s) ><)

★︎ mtl for seventeen and txt! [open]

☆︎ hard hours for any group i write for! [refer to my guidelines to see who i write for] [open]

！★﹕ᶻ﹐ TIME 4 SELF CARE﹒[open]

★︎ let's do the things that make us happy! what makes us happier than being delusional and horny? you guessed it! being shipped with a hottie 😻 — this is the SHIP GAME + i’ll give you a silly little trope to kickstart ur epic romance

☆︎ OR opt for a personalized moodboards or playlists based off the vibes you give off! (mutuals can get both a moodboard and playlist if they’d like bc i would diy for all of u -3- just say u want both so i know<3333)

note: anonymous senders, please send me a few bits of info like your mbti, ult group and/or bias (does not have to be a group i stan!), star sign (big three if you know it), favorite color, etc. basically anything you want to share + one of the options above. mutuals can ask for any of the above, but providing info is totally optional!!

！★﹕ᶻ﹐WANNA PLAY A GAME?﹒[open]

☆︎ q&a!

ask me anything! favorite movie, how i got into writing, what i do when i’m not writing, why i only ult leaders etc. but please nothing too personal!

★︎ my opinions on literally ANYTHING!

☆︎ ask me for fic recs or give me fic recs!

★︎ fuck, marry, kiss (not kill bc i do not condone violence… not on here at least /lh)

☆︎ would you rather

note: you can send as many of these as you’d like :p i like answering them <3

RULES ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

everything for this event will be tagged under #[ birthday bash ! ] you can block the tag to avoid seeing the posts!

please make sure to get your ask in within the time frame (aug 13th-27th)

minors, please please please do not interact!

be respectful and patient! — the drabbles, mtls & hard hours may take longer for me to get through, but i’ll try my absolute hardest to get them done in a timely manner <3

when sending an ask, be sure to mention the event so i can differentiate between those and my regular asks :)

have fun! ⭐️⭐️

#[ birthday bash ! ]#vernon and the cat r literally twins #send an ask 🤬 (non-threatening)

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chaotic-on-main · 11 months

Text

Chapter 7: May

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Word Count ➼ ~9.8k

You wake up to a pounding on your bedroom door, your eyes popping open at the sudden fright. It takes a moment to reorient yourself as you realize you are in your bedroom and not, in fact, on a date with Levi. You take note of the early morning sun filtering in through your sheer curtains as you blink away sleep, acutely aware of the memories of your dream already starting to fade. An ounce of annoyance starts seeping its way into your brain from the rude awakening when you hear Hange’s muffled voice come from the other side of your door.

“What are you still doing in bed?” You release the pillow to free your hand.

‘What do you mean? I’m sleeping.’ It was your turn to frown back.

‘Levi? Why?’

Your original plan for this morning consisted of wearing pajamas and taking your time getting ready for whatever your sister planned for you that evening. Instead, you find yourself speeding through your shower ritual then throwing clothes everywhere in a vain attempt to find something to wear for the day as your hair dried. Even with your hasty speed, it still takes you an hour and a half until you’re satisfied with yourself. You take one more glance over before huffing heavily and pulling open your door then stepping out into the hallway. Your heart skips a beat when you recognize a voice.

“Your tea is too watery. Let me help next time.” You hear something heavy being set down on the table, a mug you guess.

“I can’t have you do that. You’re my guest, Levi.”

“I’m not asking. If I’m drinking tea, it better be good. This isn’t fit for consumption.”

“Took you long enough.” Levi retorts.

‘Sorry. I didn’t know you were coming until this morning.’

“Bring her back in one piece, will you?” Hange glances over at you and winks.

“Yeah, yeah. See you in a couple hours, shitty glasses.”

You turn to Levi, making sure he can see your hands then sign, ‘Where’s Erwin, anyways?’

“He got held up doing something.”

‘Is he okay?’

‘Yes.’ You give him a sheepish smile.

“You okay?” You’re suddenly aware of your staring, and you force yourself to look away.

‘Yes. Just thinking about how nice today is.’ You give him a small smile.

“Hi! Welcome to Kirschsteins! Just the two of you today?”

“Yes, sir! Follow me.” With a flourish, she grabs two menus and starts over to the patio.

“What would you like to drink?” He glances over to the side. Following his gaze, your eyes fall on a tall, slender boy with freckles and kind brown eyes.

“Hi, I’m Marco! Can I get you something to drink?” He gives you a soft smile. You glance over to Levi and sign ‘water’.

“She says water and I’ll take a cup of hot black tea.” Marco nods and leaves the two of you alone. The sounds of laughing children and birdsong make their way into your ears.

“Where’d you go just now?” Levi asks, leaning back into his chair as he stares at you.

"So, ho- Oh, sorry." He crosses a leg over his knee and stares over at you. “Go ahead."

'Go ahead.' You sign at the same time as his words. He smirks at your soft laugh.

"Just say it."

‘Classes?’ There’s a softness in his gaze.

“Everything looks great. Can I get another tea?”

“Absolutely, I’ll be right out with that.” And then he’s gone again.

When you look down to your plate, your stomach starts rumbling even more. You are famished, consequences of your own doing of course. You’re quick to cut into the fresh berries and soft crepe, taking a huge bite. You can’t contain the squeal that comes out because it may have been the best tasting thing you’ve ever had. You’ve lived in Jinae for almost a year and you can’t believe this is the first time you’ve heard of and been to this place. You hear Levi let out a breathy chuckle, and you glance up at him. He’s watching you in amusement, an actual smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Is it good?” You nod back enthusiastically, smiling back at him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Levi quips as he slides his card into the fold with deft fingers.

‘What are you doing? Put that back!’ You glare at him as you grab your card and push it towards the new waiter who had turned back to see what the commotion was about.

“You put it back! It’s your birthday, dumbass. I’m not about to make you pay for any of this.” Sticking your tongue out, you ignore Levi and flap your card out in front of the waiter.

‘Were you planning to pay this whole time?’

“What if I was?”

‘Well, I wouldn’t have come.’ Levi rolls his eyes at that.

‘Thank you, Levi. I appreciate it. But I’m paying for the next meal.’ You stick your tongue out again in feign defiance.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” He purses his lips but not a single bit of amusement leaves his eyes.

‘Dessert?’ You point over to the stall with a wide grin.

‘Yes, but I’m paying.’ And then you run off before Levi realizes what you said, his fast paced steps right on your heels a moment later.

‘Where are we going?’

‘What is this place?’

“Oh, my apologies! I shouldn’t assume.” He chuckles a little and glances back and forth between the two of you before back down to his computer for a moment. “It seems Ms. Kuchel is enjoying the warm weather today. She’s having a good day today, as well.” He slides two visitor stickers on top of the counter in your direction, both with the name ‘Ackerman’ written on it. Levi hands you yours before slapping his own on his chest. You stare down at it for a moment before doing the same. You assume that these are just to let the employees know who you were here to see, but something in you feels thrilled from wearing his last name on you.