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mothandpidgeon · 3 days

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Unrequited (bfd! pre-outbreak!/Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader)

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pairing: bfd! pre-outbreak!/Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: E 18+MDNI

summary: You arrive in Jackson 22 years after the outbreak only to be reunited with your best friend’s dad, the man that stole your heart and broke it when you were fourteen– Joel Miller.

contents: best friend's dad, age gap, outbreak night (nothing that isnt in ep 1), big angst, abandonment issues, brief suicidal ideation, daddy issues, grief, Joel guilt, unprotected p in v sex, reader doesn't know where Jakarta is, reader is not described physically but Joel picks (adult) reader up, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 9k

a/n: This has been a bitch to finish but I'm quite proud of where it ended up. It's the longest os I've written which makes me nervous nobody will want to read it but I hope you do.

Thank you a million times to @ezrasbirdie for making me finish this and betaing. Also thank you @lowlights for listening to me ramble on this! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Old man, take a look at your life. I’m a lot like you. Neil Young

You’re waiting for Sarah on the front steps when she gets home. School ended nearly two hours ago and you’ve been sitting here a ball of nerves. The whole world seems to be uneasy this afternoon. You notice sirens, a team of fighter jets scrambling above. It's like your anxiety has spilled out of your chest and it’s taken life all around you.

You finger the corner of your notebook. On the inside are doodles— hearts and bubble letters. Juvenile daydreams put to paper. Your first name and after it his last, testing out the sound of who you would be if only you’d been born in a different decade. Mrs. Miller.

Sarah doesn’t look very happy to see you. It’s been two weeks since you’ve talked to her and you’ve never felt more lonely.

Her words still ring in your ears.

“It’s like you’re in love with my dad.”

“No I'm not!” you said, your whole body tingling with the heat of embarrassment. You’d never felt so exposed in your life.

“Sometimes I think that’s the only reason you’re even friends with me,” she said.

You've been ruminating on that accusation ever since. You pine for Mr. Miller the way only a fourteen year old can. It’s the kind of infatuation that makes you understand how Romeo and Juliet ended in tragedy. All-consuming, unrequited, so in love it hurts.

So maybe Sarah’s right. Your heart flutters every time Mr Miller appears in the kitchen, wearing a dark t-shirt that hugs his biceps. You try not to stare at his aquiline nose when he drives you home from Sarah’s soccer games. Sleep overs at the Miller’s house mean more opportunities to be around him, learn the little details that make him him. And there were plenty of sleep overs because your parents are always so busy fighting, they never bother to keep track of you.

But you’ve been in agony without your friend. It’s a pain sharper and more present than the yearning you’ve felt for Mr. Miller. You’ve talked to her every day since you moved to Austin in fourth grade and since this fight, there’s been an empty space in your heart.

“Hi.” You stand up, hoisting your backpack awkwardly over your shoulder.

“I’m supposed to go next door,” Sarah says.

“Can I just talk to you for a minute?” you ask.

She sighs but opens the front door with her key and lets you follow her into the living room.

“I’m sorry,” you say before you lose your nerve. “You’re right. I like your dad.”

It’s probably the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever owned up to. You wish you could explain to her that you know how silly it is to be in love with a full grown man, your best friend’s dad. It’s not like he’ll ever see you as anything other than a kid.

You can’t put into words how he makes you feel. It’s not just his broad shoulders or chocolate eyes, though it’s undeniable that he’s gorgeous. He asks about school and comes to see you in the musical. Joel is an adult that actually gives a crap about you.

You want to tell Sarah that one of the reasons you love her father so much is because of her. Because he’s such a good dad, because he raised such a cool, funny, smart daughter. That Sarah makes him better.

It’ll take years for you to find words for all of that. So you just do your best right now.

“I can’t help it. I wish I could,” you say.

That’s true. And not just because your crush has made you lose your only friend. It’s exhausting to feel such a powerful longing, to want something you know you’ll never have. It’s torture.

“But you’re my best friend. And that’s not why. I promise,” you say.

Sarah sighs heavily, her pretty hazel eyes full of remorse.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have said that. I just get jealous sometimes.”

“I promise I won’t make you feel that way ever again. I could never like him more than you,” you tell her, sitting beside her on the couch and looking her in the eye so she knows you mean it. “He’s…old.”

You both laugh.

“He’s so lame. This morning he said that Jakarta is in the Middle East,” she giggles.

You don’t know where the hell Jakarta is but of course Sarah does. You throw your arms around her. You’ve missed her so damn much. The past two weeks have felt like two decades.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her.

“Me too.” She returns your embrace. “Do you have to go home? You can sleep over if you want. It’s my dad’s birthday but I don’t think he’s going to be home until late.”

Your heart twinges at the offer and not because it means you might see Mr. Miller at breakfast. You won’t even look at him again. Tonight is about your friend.

You end up watching some corny action movies and gorging yourselves on microwave popcorn. Everything feels right again. You don’t think about Mr. Miller. In fact, you’re grateful that his double has gone over into a late night so you don’t have to be in the same room. You’ve sworn to yourself that you’ll act normal around him but you’re not sure that sheer willpower can stop you from getting butterflies when he’s right there.

At some point, you pass out in front of the tv, happier than you’ve been in a long time.

Sarah nudges you awake sometime after midnight, concern all over her face.

“Was I snoring?” you ask, groggy.

She’s looking out the window. Helicopters fly so low overhead, the whole house rattles. It’s a wonder you slept through all of this noise— the choppers are joined by the wail of a car alarm, pops like fireworks. The TV is playing a high-pitched tone and when you peer at it, you see a test pattern on the screen.

Dread settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Something’s going on,” Sarah says almost to herself.

A sudden thud against the back door makes you both jump. You swear, shaken out of your sleepy haze.

“Mercy?” Sarah asks.

You’ve spent enough time with Sarah to become acquainted with their neighbors The Adlers and their border collie Mercy. Mr Adler used to pay you each a dollar to walk him. Mercy’s frantically pawing at the glass.

Sarah goes to the door and steps into the yard. You follow, unsure you want to leave the familiar safety of the house but unwilling to be alone with such an eerie feeling in the air.

“What’re you doing out here, boy?” Sarah says, crouching down to pet the whimpering animal.

“Where’s your dad?” you ask her.

You hope the question doesn’t make Sarah think you’ve already forgotten your promise. Everything’s just so wrong. You’d feel a lot better with an adult around.

“Don’t think he came home yet,” she says. You can hear the concern in her voice. “Let’s take Mercy back. The Alder’s will be home.”

Mercy puts up a fight as Sarah pulls him across the lawn. It’s late and dark save the street lamp and a few porch lights that have been left on. You shiver despite the fact that it’s a warm southern night.

The front door to the Adler’s house stands open and inside is black. No. Bad. You want to run back to the Miller’s house and lock the door behind you but the promise of Mr. And Mrs. Adler inside keeps you moving towards the darkened entrance. Maybe Mrs. Adler will give you some cookies while you wait for Mr. Miller.

Sarah steps in first. The dog bucks and strains against her grip on his collar. Sarah fights to keep hold of him but Mercy’s thrashing makes him hard to pin down. He pulls free from Sarah’s grasp and darts away.

You have half a mind to do the same but Sarah keeps going forward. She’s scared, too, her breaths shallow as she tip toes down the hall.

“Mrs. Adler?” Sarah asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You reach for each other without even realizing it and you enter the kitchen holding hands.

What you see there is beyond your wildest imaginings. There’s blood, a lot of it. Sarah’s shoe slides in the stuff and you grab her before she loses her balance. The room is cast in shadows but a street light streams through the window in the side door. Its beam falls over the form of Mr. Adler, limp on the floor. His back is against the door and a gush of dark blood sparkles in the sodium vapor.

You’ve never seen so much blood, never seen anyone injured so brutally. It looks like he’s been attacked by some wild animal. Mercy was acting strange but the dog couldn’t do that.

“Help me,” he rasps.

He’s speaking to you. You’re actually here. This is happening and you need to do something.

But before you can form a coherent thought, your eyes travel deeper into the kitchen. Beside the island is more blood…and more bodies.

As if seeing Sarah’s neighbor with his neck ripped open wasn’t enough of a horror, you’re now watching Nana hunched over Mrs. Adler’s corpse, her face buried in the younger woman’s neck. The scene before you makes no sense. Most of the time the old woman is barely conscious, hasn’t left her wheelchair in years and yet she’s on all fours before you looking feral.

Sarah squeezes your hand so tight you’re afraid your knuckles will break.

Nana slowly raises her face to you. Her eyes are pitch black and her mouth teems with twitching tendrils. You are staring at a living, breathing monster.

When she leaps at you, you and Sarah bolt for the door. Your heart hammers against your ribs. Sarah makes it out first and races towards the sidewalk.

Once you’ve gotten onto the front step, you slam the storm door shut behind you to trap whatever that thing is inside. SLAM. Nana collides with the door and it rattles violently. You hold it closed with every ounce of strength in you, listening to the creature behind it scratch and wail and willing yourself not to look through the glass to see its horrible face. Terror holds your muscles taught. You’re not sure how long you can stay like this, your sneakers skidding across the ground.

With a roar, Uncle Tommy’s truck pulls up at that very moment and Mr. Miller hops out of the passenger seat before its even come to a full stop. He’s a fearsome sight, broad and rippling with untamed energy, his muscular arms outlined by the headlights of the car. You’ve never been more grateful for his presence.

This nightmare is almost over. Joel’s come to save you.

“Girls get in the car!” he bellows. His voice is raw and ragged.

Just as you’re ready to make a run for it, The door flings out towards you, and you’re thrown aside as if you weigh nothing. You hit the driveway hard, your head connecting with concrete.

For a moment, you can’t hear anything but the gush of blood pumping in your ears. You’re dizzy. Suffocating. There’s a warm trickle at your temple. Sarah calls your name. Your vision is blurred but you can make out the ghoulish form of the creature barreling towards her.

“What’re we doing, Joel?” you hear Tommy ask.

There’s a thud and then quiet.

You gasp again and again but your lungs won’t fill.

Are you dying? Help. You need help. The monster lays lifeless at Joel’s feet and you pray that he’ll scoop you up and take you away from this. Your eyes finally come into focus to see Mr. Miller comforting Sarah, holding her face in his big palms, so fixated on her that he doesn’t notice that Mr. Adler has appeared in the doorway.

Mr. Adler is still covered in so much blood and his gait has become twitchy as if his legs are on backwards. He moves towards them and you want to call out a warning but you’re still choking for air. Luckily he hasn’t noticed you but he soon stands between you and the Millers.

“We’ve got to move,” Tommy says.

“Get in the car,” Mr. Miller says to Sarah, throwing a protective arm in front of her.

“But she’s hurt!”

She steps towards you. You’d cry her name but you’ve still got the wind knocked out of you and you’re too terrified to make a noise. Mr. Adler makes an inhuman sound as he advances, a croaking, growling gurgle.

Mr. Miller pushes Sarah towards the truck.

“Leave her!” he barks. “Get in the car!”

You sputter and choke as you watch Sarah, Joel, and Tommy drive away.

You wait for a long time.

As the truck pulls off of the curb, Mr. Adler is joined by his wife in the street, making chase. You’re finally able to draw breath and rouse your body off of the ground. You scramble back across the lawn to the Miller’s house and lock yourself inside. There’s enough adrenaline coursing through you that you’re able to push the sofa to barricade the front door. You draw all of the curtains and grab the biggest knife you can find in the kitchen. It’s ridiculous, something you’ve seen in scary movies, but you’re living in one right now.

You hide yourself away. Sarah’s bedroom seems like the obvious place to do it. Familiar and safe. You curl yourself into a ball in the corner, clutching your knife and staring at the closed door with wild eyes.

Sirens go through the night. Gunshots. At one point even the roar of a jet engine.

For hours your body quivers as you try to make sense of what you’ve just witnessed. Flesh-eating mutants. Gore. Death. You keep waiting to wake up from a bad dream but you don’t. They left you. They abandoned you in a nightmare.

No. That’s impossible. You can accept that a comatose elderly woman made supper out of her son in law but you refuse to believe that Joel would desert you.

He’ll come back for you. Sarah will convince him. There’s always been room for you in their family.

But as the sun begins to peek through the blinds and the noises outside fade away, you begin to lose hope.

The muscles in your body go slack, exhausted from hours of uncontrollable shaking. Your instinct for survival and your need for sleep war with each other. Exhaustion is winning.

You cautiously open the door to Sarah’s room. The house is still, more quiet than you’ve ever experienced. You creep into the room at the end of the hall. The olive green sheets on Joel’s bed are still messy from when he woke up here the day before. A normal morning. His birthday.

You rest the knife on the night stand amongst the things he emptied from his pockets— coins, receipts, a stray nail. You slip into the bed and wrap yourself up. It smells like him— spicy deodorant and sweat, fresh cut lumber like the hardware store. The scent reminds you of all those times he was close, when your heart leapt.

They’ll come back. Mr. Miller wouldn’t leave you.

He left you to die but you just go on living.

It takes some time before you’re brave enough to leave the Miller’s house and see what’s left of the world. Your parents are nowhere to be found. It’s safe to assume they were infected that first night.

You’re on your own.

A QZ is set up outside of San Antonio. They assign you to housing for separated minors. An orphanage. You never make friends, not really. Trust is too fickle.

At night you lay in your bunk and wonder what life would be like if anybody gave a shit about you. Maybe you would have been with your parents when it all went down. You’d be a snarling monster but at least you wouldn’t be alone.

On the worst nights, when you like yourself the least, Mr. Miller’s words echo around your skull. “Leave her.” She's not worth it. Forget her.

You don’t imagine yourself in his arms anymore. Instead you picture him and Sarah and Uncle Tommy, all happy and safe hiding out somewhere idyllic. A sweet little cabin with a stream nearby, surrounded by peaceful woods. You’ve heard some people live like that.

Some days you wish you were with them. Others you wish they were all dead.

When you turn 18, you age out of your living situation. It couldn’t come soon enough. Things are changing and it seems like all the kids that stay in FEDRA school are being groomed to go straight into uniform. You dodged that bullet but life’s not easy. Now you’re well and truly alone, scraping by to keep food in your mouth and a roof over your head.

It only lasts a few years, though. By the time you’re 21, there’s an emergency evacuation. Outbreaks are happening within the walls and with so many people living on top of each other, it’s only a matter of time before shit hits the fan. They send swaths of people to Dallas but word is, there’s no room for such numbers and they consider everyone from San Antonio an infection risk.

You’ve heard enough stories to know what that means. There won’t be a warm welcome when you reach the next QZ. So you ditch the convoy and head north.

You bounce around for years, sometimes with others, a lot of time solo. Doing what you have to. It’s not a life, just survival.

By the time you reach the wilds of Wyoming, you’ve had enough. You break off from the group you’re traveling with. You leave them this time, just decide to walk into the forest and let the earth swallow you up. You’re exhausted, sick of hanging on by a thread. Too much of a coward to kill yourself, you wander around waiting for the cold or your hunger or a bear to do it for you.

They find you. Some scouts that look mean and tough take pity on you and offer you a place with them in a commune where things are half normal.

It’s the first time being alone has worked to your advantage.

Jackson is a strange place. It has walls like the QZ but it’s quaint. There’s laughter and evergreen wreaths, happy children that build snowmen in the center of town. Some of these kids have no idea how fucked up the world has become. All they know is this charming little haven.

You spend the first few days in the infirmary, getting patched up, regaining your strength. You feel like an animal compared to the people in your new community. It’s hard to accept that they’re willing to help you, no strings attached.

Eventually you’re well enough to have your own place. They set you up with a little apartment over one of the stores in town. You’re invited to take your meals in the dining hall.

It takes you back to those first days at your new middle school after you came to Austin. Unfortunately, this time Sarah’s not there to offer you a seat at her lunch table.

You keep to yourself, overwhelmed by all of the strange new faces. Head down, you eat your breakfast. It’s the best food you’ve had in years. As your belly fills, you start to relax and try to get used to the idea of this being home.

Then you hear a familiar voice say your name. You wonder if you’re hallucinating when you see him standing in front of you.

He’s gained a few decades but he looks good. His hair is nearly shoulder length and there’s a mustache on his upper lip but that’s him alright.

“Uncle Tommy?” you manage.

“That really you?” he asks.

Tommy puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. His smile wrinkles the corners of his eyes. You nod and you’re smiling too.

You expect to be upset. Tommy was there when you were abandoned after all. But you’re flooded with relief and a small flame of hope.

“Shit. What’re the chances?” he asks, studying your face. “C’mere.”

He pulls you through the lines of tables. Your head spins with questions. How did he end up in Wyoming of all places? How long has he been here? Did you actually die out there only to be sent to this strange afterlife?

“You remember this old son of a bitch?” Tommy asks with a chuckle when he stops at the table in a far corner.

And suddenly you’re face to face with Mr. Miller.

He’s old. Grey hairs run through his stubble and curl from his temple. There are deep lines in his face. He’s still good looking despite how weathered his features have become, still broad, still with that wonderful silhouette.

It’s funny. In your mind’s eye, you’ve never imagined Joel aging. He stayed the same while you grew up.

He looks at you for a long moment and then his thick bottom lip falls agape. His eyes glitter and his dimple appears as he recognizes the woman that you’ve become.

“Kiddo,” he whispers as he stands up.

He pulls you into a hug and his wide palm smooths down your back. He still smells just how you remember and without warning you’re sobbing into the front of his flannel.

You spent hours upon hours imagining what you might say if you ever saw him again. Sometimes it was a speech biting with venom, others a confession, a question. Now, though, your mind is blank, overwhelmed that fate has brought you back together. A testament to your survival.

“It’s alright, babygirl. You’re okay,” he says into your hair. Words you needed to hear all those years ago.

You stay like this for a long time, surrounded by him. He holds you the way you wished he had as you cried into his pillow in that empty house. Eventually you pull yourself together with a shaking breath.

“Where’s Sarah?” you ask, casting your eyes around the crowd in the mess hall.

There’s a girl sitting beside Joel, her curly hair pulled back into a ponytail, watching this scene unfold. Everyone else is polite enough to pretend you’re not bawling in the middle of lunch. Can’t be the first time it’s happened.

At your question, Tommy goes stone faced. The muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks.

You shake your head in disbelief. “Infected?” you squeak out.

“It wasn’t like that,” Joel chokes.

“She didn’t make it through that first night,” Tommy says.

It’s a punch in the gut, the air’s knocked out of your chest all over again. While it had crushed you to be abandoned, part of you understood. Joel had to choose and he picked his daughter. Even if he’d been in love with you the way you used to dream about, he always would have chosen Sarah. You couldn’t hold that against him, no matter how much it hurt. There just wasn’t anyone in the world that would have saved you.

But knowing that he failed her, that he failed you both, makes you sick. All those years of bitterness come flooding back to you and your tears turn hot and furious.

“You let her die?” you demand. “You told her to leave me behind and you didn’t even save her?” You push Joel, your hands against the wet spots you left on his shirt. It’s ineffectual. He barely moves against your pathetic shove but his face crumples. You know he hates himself as much as you do in that moment but that’s not enough. You hit him as hard as you can and he does nothing to defend himself.

“Hey, hey,” Tommy says, trying a hand on your shoulder.

“You should’ve saved her,” you bark.

Heads have turned now as Tommy holds you back.

“I hoped you were dead every day since you left me,” you say.

You can see on his face that Joel’s definitely wished the same thing.

You go on berating him, your tears mixing with spit as you snarl and shout, until Tommy’s able to wrestle you out of the dining hall.

The summer comes. After a long, cold winter, everyone in Jackson welcomes the change of seasons with open arms. Everyone but Joel.

Ellie was a salve for the deep wounds on his heart. They’ll never fully heal but at least they stopped overwhelming him for some time. Since your dramatic reunion, though, those scars have been torn open once more. Especially today.

It’s warm and there’s barely a cloud in the sky. The July weather is mild compared to summers in Texas. Fresh air blows in through the open windows of the house, beckoning Joel outside but he has no desire to be in the sunshine.

“You okay?” Ellie asks.

She’s just come down the stairs. It’s early and Joel’s already at the kitchen table. Didn’t sleep much.

He and Ellie have been together long enough that she understands the wordless shifts in his moods. They’ve gotten worse since you arrived in Jackson. He does his work and patrols, sometimes he nurses a whiskey alone at the bar. The rest of the time he keeps to himself. He’s sliding back towards the man she met back in Boston. Joel’s rebuilt the walls that surrounded him, brick by brick since that afternoon in the dining hall.

“I was going to meet Dina at the mess. Want to come? Or I could stick around?” she offers.

It’s going to be one of those dark days, the kind that makes him question why he’s been hanging on for so long, and Ellie knows it. She’s giving him a lifeline, offering to be with him so he doesn’t have to ask. He should accept it, but he doesn’t want to waste his energy putting on a brave face for her when he feels so broken.

“That’s alright, Ellie. Go on,” he says.

She doesn’t push him. She never does. She just gives a sympathetic smile before she slips out.

Once seems gone, his heart begins to ache.

Sometime later, there’s a knock at the door. The last person he expects to see on the porch is you. You look a little nervous, like if he’d taken longer to come to the door you might’ve bolted.

He hasn’t spoken to you since that day that you came back into his life but the words you said play relentlessly on loop in his mind. He should have made amends by now. You were his daughter’s best friend and of all the places at the end of the world, you’ve ended up in the same town. He passes by the old pharmacy you live above just about every day, thinks about seeing if you’re in so you can have a conversation. He even knows what he’d say, but he can’t work up the courage. There aren’t any words that can make right what he did to you.

The guilt metastasized deep in his gut. His failure compounded.

So he doesn’t blame you for keeping your distance, avoiding him when your paths cross. He lets you be angry with him, as he deserves.

“Want some company?” you ask.

He recognizes the look on your face and it dawns on him that he might not be the only person struggling today. He steps aside to let you in.

Joel sets a cup of tea down in front of you. It’s not the real thing. Dried herbs from the garden Maria keeps. You’ve taken a seat across from him at the table, glancing around the kitchen so you don’t have to look at him.

“Surprised you remember,” he says.

“My best friend’s birthday?”

He shrugs as he pulls up a chair across from you. “Was a long time ago.”

“I think you underestimate the power of female friendships.”

You wear a soft smile that makes Joel’s heart ache a little harder. He takes a good look at you, seeing you up close for the first time. There are hints of the girl he knew back in Austin but she’s buried under years of hard living.

You’re the same age Sarah would have been today. The same age he was when he lost everything.

You sigh and scratch awkwardly at your neck.

“Listen, I’m sorry about…all that shit I said. It’s…” you trail off and he’s sure you’re still mad at him, deep down.

“I reckon I’m the one that owes an apology. I shouldn’t’ve left you back there. Sarah begged me not to,” he admits. “I was trying to keep her safe. But I fucked that up, too.”

“That’s not true. I was just angry,” you tell him.

“I was always so pissed at your parents for not caring enough about you. Turns out I was just as bad,” he says.

He hadn’t given any thought to the choice he made all those years ago. His priority was his family and he had no room for the rest of humanity. Joel didn’t realize until he saw your face again just how selfish that had made him. The past months he’s been haunted by the thought of it, a young thing all alone in the chaos. If Sarah’s watching over him, which sometimes he hopes she is, she’d be ashamed.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think since I got here and…I don’t blame you. I’m not your kid. It just—“ You laugh without humor. “God, it’s so stupid but I had a huge crush on you.”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up. You fiddle with the chipped handle on your mug.

“I know. I was just a kid but I was head over heels for you,” you say.

Joel can feel himself blushing. It’s a sweet thought. He’s honored in a strange way. He remembers the gravity of Sarah’s crushes– Leonardo DiCaprio, Usher, some guy with a lip ring from one of those punk bands she listened to.

“So when you left me…I was a little heart broken.”

“Shit,” Joel says.

“I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. I just wanted you to know why I was so hurt,” you tell him, leaning forward in your seat. “You didn’t know any of that. And it’s not fair to hang that over your head. It wasn’t your job to rescue me.”

“Course it was,” Joel responds. “You were just a kid. I let you down.”

You look at him gratefully and a tear slips down your cheek. It takes a minute for you to fully take that in and it seems like something you’ve needed to hear.

“Joel. I forgive you,” you tell him.

A thick knot forms in his throat.

There’s a litany of names in his mind, so many people he’s failed. Henry and Sam. Tess. Sarah. He’s never expected to be absolved of any of his sins, he doesn't deserve to be forgiven. But those three words make him feel lighter, like he can stop beating himself up. At least for a moment.

He tucks his chin into his chest trying to keep his own tears from spilling over. Your hand slips over his, a gentle, reassuring touch.

The two of you stay like that for a little while, crying together, then becoming reacquainted. You talk for a long time. There’s a lot of catching up to do but the conversation keeps coming back to Sarah. It’s a gift to share memories of her, to hear stories that he’s never heard. You knew Sarah better than anyone in the world— her favorite store in the mall, what she wanted for her birthday. Her hopes, her dreams, her fears. No fourteen year old goes to her daddy with her problems. You were there for her, though. Right up until the end.

“I, um, you should have this,” you say. “Well, it’s yours.”

You and Joel have migrated to the couch in the living room as the afternoon has crept on. You reach into your back pocket, a little reluctant, and pull something out.

It’s a photograph, dog eared and creased from years of being carried with you. Joel recognizes the picture— you and him and Sarah, all three of you donning life jackets, smiling as you float on a calm river. He and Tommy took Sarah kayaking and she asked if you could tag along. It was a wonderful day. Blue, cloudless sky.

The last time he saw the photo it was hanging under a magnet on the refrigerator in the kitchen.

“How’d…”

“I stayed in your house for a while. After. Just kind of hoping you might come back. I took that when I left. And I ate all your food,” you say with a little chuckle. You wipe some snot from your nose. “I guess…well, you probably don’t have a lot of pictures of her.”

You’re right. There was an outdated school photograph in his wallet when they left that night and it had been too painful to look at for years. It still stings a little but it feels easier to share with someone, someone that knew her so well.

“You sure?” he asks.

You nod. “I know where to find it.”

He props the picture up on the coffee table so you can both look at it and meditate on that day when everything felt so perfect.

“Remember we made you play “Crazy in Love” on on repeat the whole way there?” you ask.

“I still get that goddamn song stuck in my head,” he complains.

You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder. The familiar gesture cracks something open inside of him. He’s taken back to his favorite nights when he’d watch a movie with Sarah and she’d cuddle against him. Somehow the memory doesn’t hurt as much as he anticipates.

You sit like that, looking at the picture, both quiet, your smiles fading as you remember what’s happened since.

“Sometimes I think I see her,” he chokes.

He’s never told anyone that. But it seems like you might understand, He trusts you won’t meet his admission with a pitying smile.

“How’s she look?” you ask.

He can’t help but chuckle. He nods.

You don’t say anything, you just burrow your head a little deeper into him. Joel puts a gentle kiss in your hair.

You’re a fixture in the Miller house once again, part of the family. You babysit for Maria and tell her embarrassing stories about Tommy. You and Ellie tease Joel relentlessly. You sit with him in the evenings, sometimes singing along when he pulls out his guitar, other nights neither of you speak at all.

Slowly, you find yourself falling in love with him all over again. It’s not the same infatuation you harbored when you were young. You’re both different people. And you hardly knew him back then. Not really. What did a fourteen year old know about grown men?

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm. After being alone for such a long time, it’s magical to have a companion. Joel seems grateful for the company, too. He’s there whenever you turn around, like a promise. He’s not leaving you behind even if you’re just going from the stables to the library.

Neither of you acknowledge it, this easy rapport. A light squeeze on your shoulder, holding your hand when you get misty eyed. He probably doesn’t mean anything by it but you’re pretty sure you can’t live without it. You bask in the sweetness of these exchanges, trying not to think too hard about the fact that you used to spend Saturday nights giggling on his daughter’s bedroom floor.

He’s still Mr. Miller, after all.

Autumn comes and you’re inseparable. You realize just how much when you convince him to attend the children’s choir performance in town. You expect him to demure. Watching kids being kids must be painful. But he’s by your side in the dining hall as the little ones sing “Clementine” and “Oh Susanna”.

He puts his arm around your shoulder so you can lean into him. It might just be a paternal gesture, maybe you’re still a little girl in his eyes. That’s ok with you if he keeps absentmindedly massaging your upper arm. You can’t remember the last time you felt so safe, so loved.

Afterwards, he walks you home and you’re in such a good mood, you start singing to yourself.

“Johnny Cash,” he says approvingly.

You laugh to yourself. “You know, I started listening to him ‘cause of you. You had his CD in your truck,” you admit.

You wanted to like all of the things Joel liked. He would think you were so interesting and grown up because you knew all the words to “Riders in the Sky.”

“Least I was a good influence,” Joel says, shaking his head, his cheeks turning pink.

He’s so handsome when he blushes, you feel a little giddy when you come to stop in front of the old pharmacy.

“G’night, darlin’,” he says, giving your hand one last squeeze.

He waits. He’ll stand here and watch you get inside like he always does. He doesn’t need to— it’s not like people even lock their doors in Jackson— but he’s insisted on it so fervently that you stopped arguing.

You shouldn’t do it. It’s so silly. But there’s a softness in his eyes and his gentle touch still tingles on your arm. His salt and pepper hair is caught in the string lights that line the empty street. You can’t help yourself.

You kiss him, smoothing your palms up the front of his flannel until you sink your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck. The tip of his nose is cold from the chill in the evening air but his lips are warm and sweet.

You haven’t had a whole lot of experience kissing. You’d just started doing it when the outbreak happened and things haven’t been very romantic since. This is one of the better ones. Relatively chaste but unbearably tender. Certainly better than you could have imagined all those years ago.

It lasts longer than you expect. Joel kisses you back. He rests his hand on your waist and the way it covers so much of your back makes you swoon. Soon, though, he’s pulling away, cradling your cheek.

“We shouldn’t do that,” he says.

“I know,” you sigh. You’re reluctant to break away, savoring the brush of his nose against yours.

It’s all wrong but you’re not ashamed for trying it.

“Just once. I’ve always wanted to,” you say.

He presses his lips into your forehead. It feels bittersweet. A kiss you longed for for twenty years came and went.

You wave to him from the door before you go in for the night.

That kiss confirms Joel’s fears.

He’s spent months convincing himself that this is completely platonic. He would never have feelings for his daughter’s best friend. Even if he always wants to be around you.

He’s looking after you, comforting you, protecting you. He’s making up for those years that he made you suffer through. You forgave him but he’ll never stop atoning.

And then you kissed him.

Suddenly, he’s buried in an avalanche of thoughts he’s been disavowing.

You’re pretty and soft. You're strong and you ease the pain of his memories. You make him feel a little less alone.

The warmth of your lips, your body pressed to his. He was ready to lose himself in you.

That’s when he heard it.

It was Sarah’s voice chiding him with all the reasons why this is wrong.

She’s been in his head, his inner critic since the day she died, pointing out every failure and weakness in him. He could picture her looking down on him with disgust. She’s the same age as your daughter. She was just a kid when you met her. She deserves better than you.

He’s making the same mistake as before, letting his instinct get the better of him. The responsible part of him takes control. He can’t give you any more reasons to try and kiss him again.

If Joel is good at one thing it’s denying himself.

He backs off and you can sense it, he knows you do. Sometimes he catches you looking at him and there’s a longing in your eye. It fucking kills him but it’s just another reason why he’s no good for you.

Despite whatever it does to you, you haven’t got anybody else in Jackson so you stick around. He can only imagine how much it hurts you.

“Why did I go north?” you complain when Joel opens the front door. You’re holding a scarf tight around your neck, shivering against the cold. The sky is a dismal shade of gray, snowfall on the horizon.

Joel gets you in the house with a chuckle. He starts a fire, a luxury you little apartment doesn’t afford. You shiver in front of the hearth.

“Traded for this,” you say, pulling a thick book out of your coat and tossing it onto the coffee table.

“Oh good. I was looking for some light reading material,” Ellie quips from her spot on the couch.

“It’s a dictionary,” you explain, “so you’ll quit cheating at Boggle.”

“You're in trouble now,” Joel laughs.

“I don’t cheat. I just know more words than you guys,” she says.

“Dentment is not a word,” you reply.

“Neither is thoard,” Joel says.

“Sure it is. I’m about to thoard the two of you in this game,” she says.

This should be enough. A winter day by the fire. The simple joy of a board game. Laughter. This is practically a normal life.

But each time Joel’s eyes fall on you, there’s a pang in his chest. You’re just close enough that he could reach out and touch you but he won’t. He can’t.

When the sun sets, Ellie retreats to her room. Eventually, you fall asleep on the couch, wrapped up in a quilt as the fire dies down. You look even younger, curled up serenely. There’s no worry on your brow. Usually your face is in a perpetual frown even when you’re not in a mood.

The snow is already knee deep with no signs of slowing. There’s no sense in sending you back out there.

Joel scoops you up as gently as he can. He feels his age, back straining, but he doesn’t mind. He enjoys how you nestle your face into his chest as he mounts the stairs, warm and snug in his arms. A smile pulls at his lips.

He sets you down carefully on his bed and you whimper groggily at the loss of his touch. Your eyes crack open.

“Snowing pretty bad. Sleep here. I’ll be on the couch,” he whispers.

“Stay,” you murmur.

He hesitates. Carrying you to bed was already crossing a line. He’s not worried about keeping his hands to himself. He’s been able to control himself for this long. If he lays down next to you, feeling you warming his sheets, smelling the peppermint soap on your skin, he’ll be so far gone for you, there’ll be no coming back.

But denying you this simple request feels cruel. He imagines you waking up here all alone. You’re half asleep but what if you remember asking him to remain only to be abandoned again?

He gets into bed, still fully clothed and careful to stay on his side. His jaw is clenched so tightly his teeth hurt. You give a satisfied hum and sink back into sleep, your body melting into the mattress.

Joel watches you for a moment, fights the urge to put a kiss on your forehead. He crosses his arms and stares at the ceiling, beginning to tangle with the web of emotions that accompany you. Once it gets too confusing, he drifts off as well.

When you reach out for him in your sleep, he can’t deny you. Joel tries his hardest to pretend it doesn’t feel good, that this isn’t something he’s wanted to do. So he imagines the nightmares that come to you. Reminds himself that you wouldn’t have seen any of that shit if he hadn’t left you for dead. Now that you're in his arms, he’ll make sure nothing touches you ever again. The least he can do is hold you and make sure it goes no further.

You both find reasons that you should stay the night. Neither of you acknowledge it. Joel just hands you one of his t-shirts and busies himself as you slip out of your clothes and get under the covers. It’s all rather innocent, Joel does more than rub your back even though you sometimes feel his morning wood through his sweatpants. If he wants you, he doesn’t let himself have you. And he could.

It’s fine with you if cuddling is all this is. You don’t try to do anything more than that, unwilling to upset the unspoken agreement between you. You can be satisfied with a broad, firm chest to rest your back against. Sleep is better beside him, his heart beats guiding your own. The weight of his arm draped across you makes your body feel deliciously heavy.

After a while, though, it happens.

Joel’s having a nightmare. His murmurs and restless movements wake you. His mouth twitches and his brow is creased. You smooth circles into his shoulder until his eyes open. Even in the darkness you can see the despair in them.

He blinks, coming back to reality, remembering he’s not wherever his dreams took him. You brush your fingers through his hair, gazing at one another as his breaths even out. Normally, his age is obvious– the lines in his forehead, the sun spots on his cheek– yet right now he looks young. Like a boy that needs to sleep with a night light.

You’re not sure who initiates but you find each other in the dark. At first he’s not kissing you at all, his lips are just brushing your cheek or your nose. It’s sweet and gentle. You try to hold in a moan, worried that any noise might shatter this moment.

The kisses are timid as if you’re both waiting for someone to stop this. Joel lets out a shuddering breath against you. This is a bad idea, you’re both thinking it. After you kissed him the last time, he held you at arms length. When this blows up, you’ll lose him entirely. But you need to be closer to him.

You open your mouth to him, tangle your legs between his. His hand slides under your shirt, roaming your bare skin. You thought that snuggling under the blanket was enough but now you realize just how hungry you’ve been to be touched. Really touched. He needs it too. Joel leans into your hand on his jaw with a whimper.

You don’t open your eyes. You might be the one dreaming and you don’t want to wake up.

It’s quiet, just the sound of hot breaths and desperate kisses, the swish of the sheets as you shift your hips to meet his. You keep yourself from rocking against him, try to enjoy the feeling of him without crossing yet another line, but you’re aching. His shirt has ridden up so you feel the softness of his middle, the light hairs on his chest. Your fingers intertwine with his as his mouth trails down the column of your neck and. Joel buries his face there.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes.

You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for. This? Then? The years in between? None of it matters because you want to live in this moment forever.

You shush him, pull him back to your mouth. You’re ready to lose yourself, to forget, to ignore the storm of thoughts constantly plaguing your mind. This is all you want.

You peel off your clothing, helping him slide out of his sweatpants until there’s nothing between you. Joel’s skin is warm and soft against you and you realize you’ve never been this close to another soul.

When Joel settles over you and you feel him throbbing between his legs, you shiver with nervous anticipation. You expect him to say something, to warn you that this is a bad idea, to promise this won’t change anything. But his brown eyes look as confused with need as you feel. There’s no room for thinking or it will crush this fragile moment like glass.

You tilt your hips to allow him in, already slick from being so close to him.

Slowly, he enters you, kissing you all the while. He makes a choked sound, wincing as his body stills. The noise makes you clench around him.

Together you take a moment to get your bearings and you adjust to the fullness of him. Joel’s eyes are pressed shut, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

Before he begins to move, his thumb finds your clit, grazing it lightly. After years of solitude and now months being just out of reach of him, the sensation makes you gasp sharply.

You’ve had sex a handful of times. They had been more about fulfilling a self destructive urge than a desire for pleasure. It’s never been like this.

You start to lose sense of everything but the feelings of your body. Your core tenses and your breaths go short and you start to forget that it’s Joel whose hips are stuttering into you. It’s as if this euphoria can erase some of those awful memories.

Soon you’re shattering beneath him, a crescendo that has you tugging on his hair and gasping for air. Joel grunts into your ear. He follows after you, hissing as he pulls out of you. He pulses into his hand, his release dripping from his fist onto your sweat damp skin. Then he collapses onto you. You run your fingers through his long curls and he kisses your forehead. There might be tears in your eyes– maybe his too. It’s too dark to be sure– but when his breath evens out, it still sounds ragged against you.

Eventually he gets out of bed and leaves the room and, in that moment, you can feel everything hanging over your head again– what you’ve just done, the horrors of the world. Perhaps even more intense than before.

But Joel returns quickly. He flicks on the light on his bed side table and cleans you with a damp rag. His touch is gentle, reverent, and his dark eyes travel over your naked skin to yours. There’s a question in them, guilt, but you have no regrets. You smooth your hand out on the sheets beside you and he lays back on his pillow. He surrounds you with his massive arms and you fall asleep grateful that you don’t feel abandoned anymore.

You worry that it was just a one time thing, try to accept that it might never happen again. But the next time you share Joel’s bed, he’s pulling you into him, pressing kisses into your shoulder, nuzzling at the spot behind your ear. His hard length prods at the small of your back.

It starts like that every time. Intimate, sensual, quiet. It’s never tearing his clothes off or pushing you up against a wall. You just stay close, breath each other in, trail fingertips across skin. Neither of you ever speak above a whisper.

Joel barely talks at all except to ask, “That too much?” and “Feel good?”

You live for the moments when his hand skates over your hip, his dark eyes soft.

“Pretty,” he says almost to himself.

He’s such a beautiful man. Your fingers trace the smooth plane of his chest, dusted lightly with hair and a few stray freckles. Age has only improved him. The greys in his stubble catch the glow from the lamp on the nightstand. You study him with the same attention to detail you used in your youth. The cleft in his bottom lip, the dimples on his lower back, the scar on his temple. You’ve memorized it all.

Joel breaks open for you. He lets you see him vulnerable. He’ll fuck you with thrusts that shake loose deep emotions. Just as quickly, he’ll hold you together when it feels like you’re falling apart.

You lay with him after, sticky with the shared heat of your bodies but reluctant to roll away and break the connection.

Whatever this is, you don’t speak its name. There are too many questions and conflicts that it might not withstand. It exists only for you and him. A safe haven in the chaos, a bit of respite at the end of long years.

In his arms, you’re not his dead daughter’s best friend. He’s not the man that left you when you needed him most. You’re just two people that need to not be alone. Each time, it’s the same. The overwhelming bliss of Joel making love to you is second only to the understanding that he’s finally come back for you.

Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear from you. Comments and reblogs always appreciated.

#joel miller #tlou #joel miller fic #bfd!joel miller #jackson!joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic

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fake-bleach · 4 months

Text

million dollar man | derek danforth x reader

summary: Derek Danforth takes great pleasure in paying for your company and your company only. He’s also a grade A asshole, who doesn't know how to take no for an answer. You come to him on a strict schedule, and, usually, he respects your life aside from him. But, for some reason, you can’t ever seem to get a hold of an evening with your friends without his intrusions. Corrupted with need, Derek persuades you to come to him with an offer of something.. more. Something that he knows will get your attention. What happens when the night ends in a way you wouldn't possibly expect?

word count: 3k

warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!reader (no use of y/n), slight spoilers for "the beekeeper", reader's a broke college student, substance use (reader & derek smoke a joint and get high), (that's the "more" in the summary if that matters to anyone btw), use of pet names (baby, babe), derek's an asshole and a bit toxic (as expected), maybe ooc derek but? in a way, reader makes derek want to be better, a bittt of angst but it's worth it i promise, kissing, yeaa i think that's it, part 2 will have smut ofc!, this is kinda all over the place but i hope it makes sense lmfaoo

authors note: hi! i've been so so occupied w/ college, so i apologize sincerely for my sudden, longgg hiatus :') i miss writing all of the time </3 but, i saw the beekeeper on saturday and felt the need to write again! i've been super into jhutch for the past few months, so i hope you guys enjoy this one <3 part two should be coming asap :) so, consider this my brief comeback? but not really? i'm unpredictable

ao3 link | masterlist

read part 2 here!

Being one of the girls Derek Danforth keeps around, you’re bound to deal with some of the bullshit that comes along with it.

But unbeknownst to you, he likes you a little more than he'd like to admit.

He hasn't seen any of the others in weeks now, his mind only occupied with his thoughts of you and when you're not around. And when you're actually with him, paying for the pleasures of your company, he can't help but want more from you when he knows that's beyond your limits.

It's simple, really.

He's a lonely man, and he knows that; knows that his personality is hard to swallow and tolerate. Knows it's pathetic that all he can do is pay for people to actually stick around.

But, there's only so much a lonely man can take.

So, that's when he starts seeing you, exclusively, ‘cause to be fair? You’re the only one who’s bothered to stay by his side for this long.

The only one who’s ever made him feel.. something.

It’s been a few months now since you started seeing Derek. The first few visits from you immediately captured his attention; your disposition being unlike any he's ever encountered before.

Being surrounded by other like-minded people such as himself, it's safe to say that it's all he's ever known. The rich and prosperous life that everyone else around him has. The ability to get anything he wants in a blink of an eye, regardless of what it was, extravagant or not.

You on the other hand? It wasn't so easy.

Maybe it was because you were so hard to get. Maybe it was because he liked the challenge.

He didn't know why he was so captivated by you. But, what he did know was the fact that he needed to.

"Hey, I know we said next week, but I need you here now."

Derek had called you, urgently as it seemed while you were out. Despite the heads up you gave him about your upcoming plans the last time you saw each other, he didn't care, and that was something you were already preparing for.

"Derek, I told you: I can't do today. We agreed that it was fine." You spoke directly into the phone, walking away from your friends at the club you were at to a quieter area; away from the deafening music that shook every inch of the perimeter.

"Are you at a club right now?"

You sighed exasperatedly, the irritation in your tone evident as you reached an empty corridor near the bathroom, body leaning against the wall. "Yes, Derek, did I have to specify my plans to you as well?"

He let out a small laugh that made you stiffen, throat tightening.

"What's with the attitude, baby? It was a harmless fuckin' question."

You were used to this with him; the casual swearing, the way he spoke to you. It was nothing new, and everything you had already adapted to.

But, God, did it annoy the fuck out of you sometimes.

"No attitude. Just wondering why the hell you need me on my day off. I'm having some fun here, is that a problem?"

"Without me? 'Course it is," He exclaimed, his voice giving off his arrogance, "Why have fun there when you could be doin' that with me here?"

You swallowed sharply and licked your bottom lip, looking up and around you as you shook your head, hesitant on his inquiry. "I don't know, Derek.. I, I'm with my friends. Promised I'd be here tonight.." You paused, "They think I 'see you too much' already, y'know?"

"Fuck what your friends think. Come on, come see me, baby. I'll make it worth your while."

He was desperate, you could tell that much.

You rolled your eyes at that, your declaration already evoking his direct persuasions. "And how would you do that, Mr. Danforth?" You teased, "You know I don't play that shit with you."

He sighed into the phone, "Got something better then. You wanna relax, clear your head a bit? Fuck, I got it all for you," He implied what you thought he did, a slight weak spot that you didn't mind partaking in once in awhile.

He knew you were stressed with college, hence why you took this job in the first place; to ease the expenses you had to deal with. He also knew what you liked.

Still, who were you if one measly opportunity to get high bought you out?

"..And?" The word trailed off your tongue, drawing it out.

"I'll pay double tonight."

Too easy. "Fine."

You straightened yourself out, preparing to make up some lousy excuse to your friends of your departure. One that you knew they'd easily figure out.

"Text me the address."

Done. You heard the ding from the speaker of his phone alert him.

"Sending a car your way. Be out in 15."

You were intrigued by Derek.

Despite how much of an asshole he was, despite the privileged life that he's been able to live; the complete opposite of what you had been given.. you were intrigued by him.

The way he ticked, the way he carried himself.

The way everyone knew so much but so little about the President's son.

You almost felt special that his desires laid with you.

The roads that grew mundane to you towards Derek's estate made your heart race, the familiarity of it all still feeling so unbelievable to fathom.

You weren't like him; you were nothing like him. So, how in the hell did you get in this position?

The abrupt stop of the car you were in snapped you out of your head, and one of the workers Derek had around opened the door for you.

"Welcome back. Mr. Danforth has been waiting for you."

You smiled at the man and nodded, thanking him gracefully as you were led into the absurdly large residence you were still foreign to.

Before you could latch your eyes onto the man expecting you, his voice introduced himself into the room first, capturing your gaze.

"There's my girl. About time." Derek spoke loudly, and proudly at that, rushing towards you eagerly. He wore a blue suit with a cheetah print button up just underneath it, and you couldn't help but admit how nice it looked on him. His outfits could be outrageous at times, but it just worked with him.

You laughed at his remark. "I saw you two days ago, Derek."

He shook his head, grinning as he pressed a small kiss to your cheek. An affectionate gesture that you agreed to in your early days with him. "Two days, too long."

You rolled your eyes and gave him a small side hug, feeling a bit more eased at his calm demeanor. It seemed like he was completely different from the Derek you spoke to on the phone. Maybe he really did just need to see you.

But you? You had no idea why he chose you.

"Well, I'm here now.. What are you gonna do with me?" You tantalized, wanting to fuck with him as much as you could. The rules you set for yourself kept him in check, but you couldn't deny how fun it was to see him squirm.

You were confident, and you knew it. You knew he wanted you. But, you knew your worth, too. You weren't going to be so easy.

At least, not unless it was on your own circumstances.

He took a deep breath and put his hand on your lower back, beginning to lead you towards the abundant living room that he had all to himself. Matter of fact, he had the entire place to himself.

He glanced at your face as you took your steps, explaining himself clearly, "Just what you agreed to, baby. Got what you want right here." He took his hand off of you, walking towards the elegant box on the sofa table that he quickly opened up.

Pulling out something small, he lifted it up to you, revealing the perfectly rolled up joint that put a slight smirk on your face.

Well, here we fucking go.

"You're staying true to your word, Danforth. Just what I like to see," You commented, walking up to him, "Well, don't keep me waiting."

He shook his head and scoffed lightly, "Get comfortable, then."

He sat on the couch and patted next to him, and you followed right along, the lighter suddenly in his hand igniting to present the orange flame that flickered in your eyes.

He placed the joint in between his lips, lighter hovering above the end of it as it makes that familiar sound, papered edges burning crisp. He takes a drag of it, shutting his eyes as he lets the smoke fill his mouth before inhaling it into his lungs. A familiar warmth already seeping into the environment around you.

Without a second to waste, he urges you to come closer, muttering out a, "C'mere baby," before he places the tip of the joint in between your lips for you.

You quickly take the chance to take a drag yourself, repeating his every move as you shut your eyes blissfully, the herbal scent of it filling your nose from Derek's own smoke escaping his mouth.

"Yeah," He draws out, "There you go," He mutters as he watches you intently, taking in your hazy state as you evidently begin to relax. "Feels good?"

You swallow as you flutter your eyes back open to him, slight butterflies spreading to your stomach.

..That was the weed. Not him. Definitely not him.

You just nodded as he pulled it away from you, sleekly mustering out, "Great. Feeling better already."

He smirked at you and cocked his head, "Already? We're just gettin' started, babe."

You huffed and leaned back against the couch, getting yourself more comfortable as you shook your head, "Alright, Mr. Professional over here. I don't smoke as much as you, you know that." You sighed.

"I know, I know, m' just fucking with you. Besides, you got me here now, anyways," He teased, scooting a bit closer to you, "C'mon, open up." He urged you, taking another drag coolly, eyes stuck on you.

You quickly listened, lips parting to open wide, expecting the sudden smoke that filled the air to hit you. He blew it out in your face, making you giggle from the feeling as your lungs took it in.

He licked his lips as his gaze lingered on yours, lips slowly closing shut as your body increasingly felt lighter, the substance overwhelming your foggy brain.

The more the seconds passed, the more his eyes darkened, consuming you completely.

A part of you couldn’t help but like it.

There was something so sensual about it. You knew that; there was no denying it. And maybe it was the weed too, but fuck, did it feel good with him right now.

Right now, Derek Danforth was not the condescending asshole that you occasionally dreaded being around.

Right now, Derek Danforth was slowly becoming the one thing that you craved the most.

Fuck, it really was the weed.

"Give me that." You distracted yourself from your heavy thoughts, reaching for the joint in between his fingers. He handed it to you and leaned back against the couch himself, body angled to face you entirely.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you, and now, it was you who was bound to squirm.

You avoided his gaze, taking one last drag before giving it back to him eagerly. There was only so much you could take, and normally you'd want more, but you couldn't help but fear the possibility of any more of it multiplying these thoughts of him.

The feelings that you continuously needed to deny.

Your eyes locked onto the center table just in front of you, suddenly feeling incredibly curious about the intricately built legs that screamed wealth.

Now, he obviously wasn't as high as you, because the next thing that leaves his mouth sounds a bit too coherent for him to be.

"Don't know how you went this long without me."

Your head snapped to him at that, stomach suddenly tightening with confusion at his words. A direct, accusative statement you couldn't have possibly expected to hear from him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just.. with college, with this, with experiences like this.. You need me. Obviously." He exclaimed confidently, as if you should’ve known that already.

There he was. The asshole.

You sharply inhaled, scoffing as you shook your head, staring down at your lap. Your hazy mind can't even help you form words, except for the one phrase that doesn’t do your defense any justice.

"I don't.. I don't need you." The tone of it is light, gentle as it rolls off your tongue, and you hate that you're not in the right headspace for this right now.

He laughs at that. The same laugh that always makes you stiffen, freezing in your place.

"You don't.. you don't need me?" He mocks you as he takes another drag from the joint, putting it out on the ashtray in front of him, "Everybody needs someone, baby.. You shouldn't try so hard to deny that." He taunts you, and you know that it's what he wants from you.

For you to lash out. For you to show him any ounce of vulnerability that you've managed to keep composed since this relationship began.

"Especially not from someone who treats you so.. Right." He whispers out, almost grimly as he leans in closer to you, face merely inches away.

You slowly turn your head now, facing him as you shut your eyes gauzily, mind still lost in your mix of emotions. You hate him; you want to hate him so badly, but you can't.

Some fucked up part of you can't let yourself.

But, that doesn't stop you from putting up a fight.

"You treat me.. right? Is that what you think?" You begin, eyebrows furrowing as you attempt to hold yourself back, "You're an asshole, who treats everyone like shit, Derek."

He laughs, a cruel noise escaping his lips; an unexpected action that urges you on, pushing you further.

"You.. You completely disregard my feelings, my, my plans, everything in my life that doesn't have anything to do with you, you're unbearable, you—"

He cuts you off then, inching closer to you as he grins at that, "Then why the fuck do you stick around? If I'm so fucking unbearable, baby, why do you bother with me?"

"Because maybe.. there's some part of me that hopes you'll stop being such a piece of shit, Derek!" You explode now, aggravated and pushed to your limits. Pushed to show you care for him in some way.

Was this his plan all along?

You don’t know, but you let out one final remark, unable to control yourself now that you've already begun, "But, I don't fucking need you. You need me." You spit out, your seething glare locked on him.

"I need you?" He spews out, almost as if it's too unbelievable to even hear.

"Yeah, you need me."

"I need you?" He repeats bitterly.

You swallow, blatantly whispering, "You need me, Derek."

He continuously denies you, his composure slowly leaving him the more you open your mouth.

“I don’t need you. I don’t fucking need anyone.” He’s quick to say defensively as he turns away from you, refusing to allow you to get to him.

But, you know it now. You’re getting under his skin.

You press further, head closing in near his to make sure he hears your words loud & clear.

“You randomly pulled me out of my plans tonight and brought me here, Derek. What fucking for? I know you didn’t just need my fucking company. Not after you persuaded me to come. I know you better than that now.”

He shakes his head, rapid and tense, unknowingly egging you on.

“Why do you care about what the fuck I do? Who I see? Hell, even my fucking life! I thought this was all just business to you. What happened to that?”

He pauses then, processing it all. Something he's never been compelled to do before.

“..What happened to that, Derek?” You push, tone composed & steady now.

Before you can continue your little speech, before you can push him any further, he crumbles instantly; voice direct and harsh as he finally reviles into your exertions.

"I don’t—I don’t fucking know, okay! Yeah, maybe you're fucking right. Maybe that's why I always want you around. Maybe that's why you're the only fucking person that I ever want to be around. I—I just—"

“You just what?” You need to hear it, desperation seething through your voice.

He bursts out now, head turning to face you as he spits out his confession. “I can’t fucking think of anything else but you. I can’t be around anyone else without wishing it was fucking you.”

There it fucking is. But, he’s not done.

“You drive me fucking crazy, baby,” He laughs at himself, pathetic with his vulnerable words that no one else has ever gotten to hear, “And I don’t know what the fuck to do ‘cause I know this isn’t what you signed up for, but fuck, maybe I.. I do fucking need you, I don’t fucking—”

You can’t control the next thing you do.

Well, maybe you can, but you really don’t fucking want to.

It's your turn to cut him off now, after the countless times he’s done it to you; by placing your lips on his, eager and desperate as your hands slip from your lap to cup his face and pull him in close, chasing the high of his lips on yours.

He shuts his eyes as you do the same, swallowing sharply once you break it apart, eyes set on him as you await his response.

His wide eyes lock onto yours now, and he whispers out your name, shocked and unsteady, and almost in an attempt to stop you.

"God, just shut up for once." You interrupt him, pushing your lips back onto his before he can protest any further. He moans into your mouth, hands moving to grip your hips eagerly, his body closing in on you completely.

Let's just say, you don't feel so high anymore. You’re no longer confused.

You're more sure of this than anything in your fucking life.

part two should be coming this week! feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

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cherryxblossxms · 7 months

Text

Bedtime Relaxation

Lucifer x reader

: ̗̀➛ A/N: I don't give nearly enough love to my Luci, and I just wanted to write him being casual and simply wanting some loving from his MC. Not proofread and a bit of a rushed ending

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: fem afab reader, fluff and smut, no protection, neck kisses and a lil biting, praise, dirty talk, fingering, creampie, a bit of breeding, cockwarming; remember to pee after sexxxx; Lucifer is a tease but there's a lot of love~

: ̗̀➛ Word count: 3382 this was going to be short what happened

It wasn't unusual for you to go to bed alone most nights. When getting into your relationship with the Avatar of Pride, you knew what a workaholic he was. Thanks in part to his troublesome brothers, there was always work and bills to be looked over. The rest was thanks to Diavolo, having to review matters concerning R.A.D. on a near constant basis as an important member of the R.A.D. student council.

Any attempts to assist him were often met with stubborn refusals, but you fought against those with tooth and nail. Sometimes you managed to help decrease his workload, easing his burden at least a little bit. But you had to be honest with yourself that, more often than not, there was some paperwork that was simply too far above your head to manage. That's why tonight, you'd gotten ready— dressed only in one of his shirts as your pajamas— and slipped into bed all by yourself once more, your lonely sigh echoing in the empty room.

You were almost comedic looking amidst the bountiful sheets as the singular figure on your lover's massive bed. You knew Lucifer would always join you eventually, when his coffee ran out and his mind refused to look at any more papers, serving to fill the bed just a bit more. In fact, Lucifer often told you he slept better ever since you started sleeping by his side, so he always made sure you two were together during the night. But you still couldn't help the loneliness in your chest, and unfortunately, your day had been an exhausting one. It wasn't long before you had to succumb to sleep without him, missing his touch and dreaming of being in his arms.

You awoke some time later to movement on the mattress. You couldn't tell how much time had passed, but given how dark it was, you'd hazard a guess it was a few hours since you fell asleep. A cold hand made its way around your waist before a hard body pressed up against you from behind, spooning you close. Without looking, you knew immediately who it was, but that didn't stop you from angling your head back, trying to catch any kind of glimpse of your lover in the darkness.

"Lucifer?" You asked, almost involuntarily.

"Yes, it's me," he replied, and took the chance to kiss you softly before settling behind you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I wanted to finish up my work and didn't realize how late it was. You can go back to sleep."

Your body rejoiced in that, wanting to return to your slumber as soon as possible. But your mind wanted otherwise. It had been a while since you'd gotten any quality alone time with the eldest demon, and even if it was brief, any time together was better than none at all.

You shook your head despite the darkness of the room, clutching to the arm around your body.

"That's ok, I want to stay awake a little longer. I've missed you." You hated how needy you sounded when you were tired, but it was the truth.

You could feel Lucifer chuckle rather than hear it, and another kiss was pressed to the back of your neck.

"I've missed you, too, my love," he said, nuzzling against you. "Nothing is right until you are in my arms like this." His words brought heat to your face, your heart aching with so much love for your hard-working demon.

Several more kisses followed, showered against your lips, your neck, and the curve of your ear, and everything in you wanted to purr at the feeling. His arm tightened around your middle, hips bumping your butt as he got as close as possible, and sparks came to life low in your belly. You couldn't help but squirm against him, his kisses and his touch always serving to rile you up in the best way, and you couldn't help but want more.

A well-placed bump of your butt into his groin made Lucifer grunt, and he retaliated with the drag of sharp canines against your skin, making you shiver. Any remaining sleepiness in you totally dissipated, replaced by the need for more. If Lucifer hadn't been holding you down, you would have turned around to get better access and deliver some kisses and bites of your own. So instead, the two of you settled for grinding and groping, your bodies heating up beneath the sheets.

Lucifer's nimble fingers quickly unbuttoned the shirt you were wearing, the pride and possessiveness within him swelling at seeing you wear his clothes— along with something else between his legs. A quick squeeze to your breast pulled a mewl out of you, and it was easy to arch up into his touch, encouraging him to continue.

With the heated, intimate atmosphere, you were quick to lose yourself in what was happening, especially as your lover's fingers squeezed and pinched at your nipples relentlessly. Having so little free time with your demon left you both needy, after all, and one thing always led to another rather quickly. But something nagged at the back of your mind, before suddenly springing forth in a tiny moment of clarity, making you gasp.

"Oh!" Lucifer's fingers stopped their movement at your exclamation. "Wait, aren't you working tomorrow? It must be so late, you need to rest."

Not that you wanted to stop, but the last thing you wanted was to be the cause of his sleep deprivation. An exasperated sigh blew across your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"No, I'm not working tomorrow. And these long nights are exactly the reason I asked to take tomorrow off." That surprised you, causing you to glance back at him. You're sure if one of Lucifer's brothers had heard that, they would be surprised too; the eldest brother never took vacation, at least not before he met you. "I've been away from you for too long, and I plan to start making it up to you, my darling."

The fingers that had been teasing your breasts began sliding down your body at a tantalizing pace, kisses decorating the back and side of your neck again as he did so. After what felt like a torturously long time, but was likely mere seconds, he reached the apex of your thighs. You hadn't even realized the way your core was throbbing, aching for his touch.

He paused for just a second at the lack of underwear, before moving onward. A single, long finger separated your folds down the middle, teasing your hole before swiping up and just barely glancing your clit. You could feel your wetness, hear it even, before he even said anything, knowing just what exactly he was feeling, and a deep, seductive hum filled your ear as he seemed to voice your thoughts.

"Hmmm, see? You're so wet for me already," he said, lips pressed to your ear now. "I've been neglecting you, clearly, not taking care of my lover's needs like I should. It's only fair that I repay you what you're owed, pleasure you to your heart's content."

His words warmed your heart, while simultaneously feeding the throbbing in your clit, desperate for more of his touch. Lucifer's work usually took priority over many things, so you hadn't expected him to think about it like this. Not that you didn't appreciate it, though.

"You haven't been neglecting me, Luci," you said. "I know how important your work is, I knew that when we got together, and you know that I support you still."

Another hum in your ear, but he stayed silent, letting you continue.

"I just want you to be able to relax a little, so you don't burn out. You haven't been neglecting me, so you don't have to take time off just to please me. Although, that means so much to me."

A beat of silence passed, and you opened your mouth to question his silence before that same long finger suddenly swiped over your clit, your slick on his finger making it glide with ease. The motion made you jolt, drawing a slight moan from your lips.

"Ahh— hey!" You protested, grabbing his arm.

He waited another moment before repeating the movement, but this time making slow, leisurely circles around the sensitive bud. Your thighs opened involuntarily, giving further access to your heat, and you couldn't help the shuddering moan you let out.

"And what if I said that me taking time off is actually for a selfish purpose?"

The words only half registered in your mind, basking in the stimulation he was giving you, and it didn't help you understand them any better.

"While it happens to be for pleasing you, I'm taking time off because I wanted to feel you beneath me all night... and all day," Lucifer teased, pleased with your reactions to his ministrations. "Instead of the sound of pen scratching on paper, I wanted to hear you moan my name until you lost your voice. And instead of feeling the cold loneliness of my study, I wanted to feel your sweet, warm little pussy squeezing my cock."

You couldn't help the groan that came out. If you could orgasm from words and voice alone, you knew that line would have done it.

"So give in to me, my love, and let me pleasure you like I've been aching for," he purred into your ear.

Your lover always knew exactly what to say, and although you were still concerned about his exhaustion and the late hour, you were beginning to lose the battle of willpower against his masterful fingers. As much as you wanted to insist that he rest, you had to admit his argument was... compelling. You finally sighed as you gave in the pleasure, relaxing against your lover as his hand continued.

"Fine," you said, reaching back to place your hand on Lucifer's cheek. "Give it all to me."

Lucifer didn't waste a second before plunging two of his fingers into you, sufficiently slick from your arousal. The heel of his hand ground against your clit simultaneously, and the pressure was heavenly. He set a good rhythm, mind-meltingly good, making you whimper from the pleasure, and a sharp cry was drawn out as he found and attacked the most sensitive spot along your walls. A moment later, a third finger slid in, working on opening you up, and you couldn't resist rocking your hips against him in response. Your hip ached from holding your leg up for him, but you couldn’t be bothered to care until you got your orgasm.

You could feel your climax building already, the lack of touch from his long working nights making you extra sensitive to it now. And your lover had all of you memorized, every moan and tremble, every little spot that made you cry his name and gush arousal.

"My sweetheart is getting so tight for me, you're already going to cum?" Lucifer asked, as if he didn't already know the answer. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

You just whined in response, pushing your butt back into him, feeling his clothed erection straining behind you.

Lucifer huffed, keeping up his pace. "Look at you, you can't even answer me. I can feel how close you are, though, how badly you want this."

And he was right, you were rapidly approaching the edge. The sounds of your wetness filled the quiet room, and your body felt blazing hot. You couldn't imagine what kind of mess was between your legs as he continued playing with your cunt.

Just as you could feel your pleasure begin to peak, his fingers suddenly stopped, simply stuffing your pussy instead. The orgasm he'd been working you towards instantly began to slip away, and you tried to rock your hips again, desperate to chase it. But Lucifer anticipated your move, removing his fingers all together, and the action made you want to cry.

Wasn't he just telling you about how he wanted you to cum??

Your lover shifted behind you, but you were too at a loss to think of what he was doing. It wasn't until you felt his bare, solid length between your thighs, eagerly pressing against you and getting covered in your slick, did you realize he was preparing to take you. And as expected, Lucifer began to rock his hips forward slowly, dragging his length through your folds. His heat and his size were intoxicating, and as if you weren't already a mess from his fingers, his length was doing wonders against you.

Each time he drew back, you could feel the mushroom head press towards your entrance, and you hoped he’d finally slide in and fuck you like he promised. But your hopes were dashed as he simply moved forward again, bumping your clit instead, seemingly unaware of your growing desperation. The man was teasing you, and it drove you nuts the way he knew exactly how to press your buttons.

"Luciiiiii," you whined.

Lucifer squeezed you close, chuckling low in his chest. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “It sounds like you want something.”

“Wh– Of course I want something!" You protested. "I was going to cum and you just stopped! You just said you want to please me, and now you're teasing me instead."

"I don't believe the two are mutually exclusive." This made you huff, your eyes rolling hard in your head. "Don't be mistaken, my love. I'm going to make sure you cum as much, and as hard, as possible in the next 24 hours. But a little denial helps to sweeten the deal, doesn't it?"

You hated that he was right. Orgasms with Lucifer were powerful, and it was all thanks to his devastating combination of denial then reward. Whether it was because he was a demon, or because he had potentially hundreds of years of experience, you weren't sure. All you knew was that Lucifer could play you like his favorite instrument, and make you sing like no one else possibly could. All you could do was whine softly in response, Lucifer continuing to tease his length against you at a leisurely place until you said otherwise.

Just as you were ready to explode at him, however, you finally felt his tip press to your entrance. All the teasing and prep made it easy for him to slide in, his mushroom tip popping past the first ring of muscle with ease, making you gasp softly, but he took his time pressing in, making sure you were comfortable.

“Ohhhh, fuck…”

Even with the prep, he always gave you a good stretch, and as he bottomed out, that delicious full feeling was incomparable. The mutual relief of finally feeling each other effectively silenced you both, and all you could hear for a moment was your combined heavy breaths.

That first thrust was heavenly.

He gave you a moment to get adjusted before slowly pulling out, almost all the way, then pushed forward again. The gift of long-anticipated friction drew an involuntary moan out from your lips, the first of many for the night, and it spurred your lover on to up his pace. Once Lucifer knew you were okay, one of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close against him as his hips started moving faster.

You reached an arm back to touch his hip, feeling the pull of his muscle as he moved, and focused on the feel of his cock pumping between your walls. You closed your eyes, reveling in your relief and your pleasure.

“Mmh, there’s my good girl. You feel so good, so warm and wet for me,” Lucifer groaned in your ear. You couldn’t help the way it made you tighten around him, drawing a grunt from him as he pushed forward, and you certainly couldn’t help the gush of arousal that came forth, either.

Suddenly, he stopped as he adjusted the angle, raising your one leg up and moving closer, seemingly trying to find the right spot before resuming his thrusting. And he’d evidently found what he was looking for as his cock seemed to reach a new depth in you, pressing against a particularly sensitive spot deep within and immediately pulling out a cry from your lips.

“Ah, there it is,” he said, and you could hear the smug tone in his voice.

Whatever it was, he was relentless as he focused his thrusts towards it. Each press of his cock hit that same spot, just a little painful but overwhelmingly pleasurable. It was like he’d pressed the off button to your nerves, rendering your limbs as spaghetti as he increased his pace once again, your legs now forced apart by his own limb to keep that deep access. The sound of the bed rocking and heavy breathing filled the air, only adding to the close, sensual atmosphere.

“Ngh, Luciiii, it’s t-too deep,” you managed to say, your words stuttered by the thrusting. But Lucifer wasn’t giving any mercy, feeling the way your pussy hugged his cock told him everything he needed to know, keeping up his pace against your body.

“I know you can take it, love. You always take me so well. Just a little bit longer, we’re almost there.” True enough, the change in angle had you rocketing towards your climax now, that familiar pressure building up in your pelvis, and you found yourself rocking your hips in time with Lucifer seeking out the end. His own pace was beginning to suffer, clearly approaching his own end too, and you wanted to hold on long enough to meet that orgasmic crash together.

Right as you thought this, however, two nimble fingers found their way between your legs once more. Before you could even think to say anything, Lucifer’s fingers found your clit, soaked and throbbing for attention, and began to rub devastating circles on the sensitive nub. Any remaining thoughts scattered at once, the attention to your clit and the rough, deep thrusts all that were occupying your mind now, your climax closer than ever. It was all you could do to hold onto him for dear life, little whispers of “yes” and “please” escaping your lips as your pleasure began to peak.

At the same time, Lucifer pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his sharp canines denting your skin and threatening to break through. “Ohhhhh yes, cum with me, love, I can feel it. I want you to milk me, I’m going to fill you up so well, fill you with every drop I have. Cum with me,” he muttered, his pleas ending in a rush of words before his climax finally hit.

As he came, Lucifer bit down on your neck, holding you still as he grunted against your skin. You could feel the sudden rush of warmth deep inside, the sign of his cum painting your walls, and between all the sensations and the thought of taking his seed, it finally made your climax crash over you too. You couldn’t help the loud moan you let out, squeezing hard on your lover’s cock and milking him exactly as requested.

You were both a mass of trembling limbs as you rode out your orgasms, Lucifer’s hips gently rocking against you and working his seed deeper even as he started to soften inside you. You squirmed as it began to overstimulate you, and he finally, blessedly, stopped his movements. Your mind wasn’t yet back together, unable to say anything in the aftermath, but your demon lover seemed much the same, simply nuzzling your skin and kissing where he’d bit you.

He leaned up a little and his lips finally met yours, kissing you softly. Ideally, you knew you should get up and clean yourself up, but that delicious climax and the warmth of Lucifer’s body were calling you back to sleep. It didn’t help that your lover’s arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him like he was afraid you’d leave. As the darkness came to swallow you up, you figured, fuck it. Maybe just this once, you could indulge yourself, happy in the thought that your lover would be there to greet you tomorrow.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated 💜

#lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #lucifer smut #the minx can write ✍️#spicy minx 🔥#hi hello yes i can only post at 3am apparently

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peachdues · 9 months

Text

Phantasmagoria (Part I)

Tell Me to Stop (Sanemi’s Version)

Sanemi x F!Reader, Modern AU

A/N: it's time. This one is very personal to me, and I've drawn a lot upon my own life/experiences to write this. I hope it lives up to expectations, but in case it doesn't, remember there is still a part two and a part three (so more smut/angst/feelings).

Massive TW: grief, loss of parent to cancer, canon character death (in non-canon way), drug and alcohol abuse, anger, unhealthy coping mechanisms galore.

CW: 10.5k words; explicit sexual content. Unprotected sex/oral (F!receiving), mildly dubious consent (Reader doesn't tell Sanemi it's her first time, and there's a question whether he would've done it); both Sanemi and Reader are under the influence. Creampie, lots of cursing, angst.

For the playlist, listen here.

Without further ado!

Speak in tongues / I don't even recognize your face / mirror on the wall / tell me all the ways to stay away

phan·tas·ma·go·ri·a – an exhibition of optical effects and illusions; a constantly shifting complex succession of things seen or imagined.

Once upon a time, as a little girl, she’d believed love was pretty; she imagined it would be soft, pink, and shiny and make her feel warm and pretty in return.

As an adult, she’d come to realize that love wasn’t pretty at all; it was cold, lonely, and painful.

Love was dull and harsh and all-consuming.

Love was black.

For Y/N, loving Sanemi Shinazugawa was like falling into one of the black holes she’d learned about in science class as a child. It was infinite and empty and there was no space for anything but the all-consuming void that promised to rip her apart and condemn her to oblivion.

This love had taken her naïve, romantic heart to chew up and spit back out, leaving her only with a misshapen lump held together by the leftover sinew of her hopes and dreams.

Y/N believed her love for Sanemi would be the death of her. It was a poison that had seeped into her veins and was slowly rotting her from the inside out. She knew it was stupid to love someone who would not and could not love her back, but she hadn’t yet figured out a way to stop.

And since she could not stop loving him, she could only resign herself to its toxicity until it killed her for good.

—————————————————————————

Summer had ended, and Y/N was dreading having to return to Ubayashiki University. Dreading it because she’d spent the entirety of the summer back in her – their – hometown, caring for her ailing mother, and that isolation had meant she didn’t have to wake up every day with a pit in her stomach at the thought of running into him. But then her mother had finally succumbed to her illness a week prior, and Y/N was now forced to carry on in the world as though hers had not just been blown apart.

Looking back, Genya’s death had marked the end for a lot of things, including the once-irreverent trio that had been Y/N, Kyojuro, and Sanemi.

They had been friends – the best of friends, really, since pre-school, in large part because of their parents. Kyojuro, as warm and as vibrant as the sun, had been their grounding force, always wise beyond his years but quick to laugh. Then there was Sanemi, and though he could be prone to his episodes of anger, he was a staunch, loyal defender of his friends and would do anything if it meant making them smile. Last, there had been Y/N, and she’d been so happy to just love her boys and be loved by them. She’d always felt invincible with them by her side, ready to take on the world, together.

And for a while, they did.

Their friendship withstood even the toughest of trials. It lasted through the death of Kyojuro’s mother and the subsequent decline of his father, so unable to cope that he could not function without the bitter sting of alcohol to soothe the pain of Rukka’s absence. Their friendship had even endured the deaths of both Sanemi’s and Genya’s parents at the hands of a drunk driver, the shrapnel from the crash permanently scarring both of the boys’ faces, though Sanemi had born the worst of it.

But because they’d had one another, they’d made it through. Y/N’s own mother, though a single parent, took in both Shinazugawa boys until the state placed them in a home, though that rarely stopped Sanemi from frequenting Y/N’s house after school. Even Kyojuro grew to be a constant fixture around her house, drawn to the warmth and love her mother showed both boys as if they were her own.

And then they all grew up, and they were set to begin their first year of university at Ubaya-U come the fall. The three of them had been eager to set out into the world, to grab at any and all opportunities that arose, and for each of them to become great in their own right.

But not two weeks into the fall semester, Sanemi received the phone call that had brought his world crashing down around him. Genya, his beloved, cherished younger brother, had been shot dead outside of their foster home, killed by some kid in retaliation for some fight Genya hadn’t picked.

Y/N hadn’t been with him when he received the news, instead only getting a text from Kyojuro to getthefuckoverhereNOW. She’d bolted from her class and ran to the boys’ dorm across campus. She’d found Sanemi, curled into a ball on the floor beneath a hole he’d punched into the drywall, sobbing, and she hadn’t known what else to do but hold him along with Kyojuro while her own tears threatened to blind her.

Hours later, when Sanemi realized he would have to return to their hometown to make final arrangements, he’d asked Y/N to accompany him to the train station. Kyojuro would have gone as well, but he’d been unable to call off from work, and so the three had planned for Y/N to return with him the next day, as she was the only one between the three of them with a car on campus.

Of course, Y/N agreed to drive Sanemi to the train station, because she couldn’t possibly imagine leaving him alone. He’d looked so lost, so broken, and she would’ve done anything, anything at all, to lessen the weight on his shoulders.

Because she loved him, and she’d loved him for years, and love meant giving everything you had, everything you were to the other, especially in times of need. So she agreed, and though he’d been unable to speak, Sanemi had rested his head on her shoulder in silent gratitude.

She’d not known that, in her efforts to love and support him at his lowest, she would doom their group’s entire dynamic.

In retrospect, she shouldn’t have said anything. It was the wrong time, the wrong way to tell him what was in her heart, and she’d known that; but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. She’d been unable to stop the way her heart clenched as she walked him towards the platform at Amane Station, his head hung low and his eyes rimmed red from hours of crying. It hurt her to see him in such pain, hurt so badly that she’d been desperate to alleviate it in any way she could. She’d thought it would have been enough to hug him, to give him a reassuring squeeze and a promise that she and Kyo would be back home the following morning and that he wouldn’t be alone.

But then, before she could stop them, those cursed words had fallen from her lips and ruined her, ruined everything.

I love you, Sanemi. With all my heart.

As soon as she’d heard herself say it, she’d known she’d fucked up. She knew, as Sanemi stiffened in her embrace and pulled away from her, that she’d indelibly altered things between them, and that she could never take those words back. And she’d known, the moment she saw the cold, bewildered look in his eyes, so angry it made her stomach drop, that he neither returned nor wanted her love.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” He snapped, stepping back from her, creating a chasm between them that could not be bridged.

His train had finally arrived, and he’d stormed away from her, turned his back to her, and refused to look back as he boarded the car. She’d stayed behind, standing there amidst a throng of travelers and their families, for a long while, tears slipping hot and fast down her cheeks until the salt burned permanent tracks into her skin.

It hadn’t mattered that Kyojuro had called her later, Sanemi having filled him in on what happened, what she’d done, to tell her not to worry; that Sanemi had just been frustrated and overwhelmed, and that all would be well between them after the funeral.

Kyojuro lied. Sanemi hadn’t so much as looked her way the entire time she and Kyo were with him during his brother’s funeral and had refused to even acknowledge her small greeting. Y/N understood he was going through the worst pain imaginable, and she’d known he was angry because she’d dumped her feelings on him when he’d been in no place to receive them, but his rejection still fucking hurt.

Worse than his rejection had been his total ignorance of her, his obstinate refusal to so much as acknowledge her existence. Y/N hadn’t been able to understand how he could be so angry with her to not even treat her like a person, to pretend as though they hadn’t been friends – best friends – since they were in diapers.

Y/N had wanted to give him space, however, and wanted herself to stop loving him so things could one day go back to how they’d been, so she started to distance herself from Sanemi, believing she would still have Kyojuro, her sun, to lean on if she needed it.

But she’d been wrong, so very wrong. Because Kyojuro had defended Sanemi with a not-so-gentle reminder that ‘he’s dealing with a lot right now,’ which only fractured her heart even more because Kyojuro had taken a side and it hadn’t been hers.

Thus, Y/N was left to love them both at a distance, and she was forced to watch them carry on their friendship without her, even though they’d all come to Ubaya-U together and even though her exile from the group meant that Y/N had no friends at all.

So, her first semester at university, the semester she’d dreamed would be life-changing and exciting, became a cacophony of sobs smothered into her pillow at night so her roommate wouldn’t hear her winking out like a dying star. And she had no friends, because her best friend didn’t think she was his, and she couldn’t stop loving a boy who didn’t want to love her back.

—————————————————————————

Her mom got sick in the spring of her first year. Initially, it had been a good prognosis. Y/N somehow managed to balance her busy, pre-law class load with her mother’s care, fluidly alternating between office hours and hospital appointments. But no friends meant she’d had no one to talk to, no one to lean on in those moments when her legs gave out and sobs wracked her body because she’d been so fucking scared of losing her mom. But she’d been kept busy enough to be able to squash that loneliness down and ignore it like her boys had ignored her, and so, she’d pushed through.

By the time summer had come, however, things had grown exponentially worse. Several nights ended in Y/N having to call an ambulance to rush to her home, because her mom had fallen and Y/N wasn’t strong enough to lift her by herself, and there hadn’t been anyone else she could call.

There had been a few times – maybe two or three – when she’d passed Kyojuro on the street, home briefly to check on his little brother, and the fiery blonde would make a face like he wanted to say something like he wanted to talk to her or care about her, but Y/N would turn and run before he had the chance.

She never saw Sanemi, though that hadn’t surprised her. She hadn’t expected him to be able to stomach being back home so soon after Genya.

Her mother’s condition yo-yoed throughout the summer and into the early fall of her second year of university. Just when it finally seemed as though things were looking up for her mother, when she was just days from her last treatment, she died.

No one had been there to hold her – to comfort her – when Y/N began wailing as her mother’s chest rose for the last time and did not go back down.

Her mother had died, and Y/N had been left utterly and completely alone.

Her mother’s funeral had taken place on a sunny October day, the autumn air cool and crisp as an apple. She’d stood beside her mother’s casket as stranger after stranger passed, offering their condolences and personal anecdotes of her mother’s kindness.

Not once had she seen a familiar face. Not once had either of her boys made an appearance, not even for the woman who had loved them as her own.

She’d returned to campus a few days later, and because the universe had decided she’d not suffered nearly enough for some unknown crime, she ran into him. By the cruelest twist of fate, Sanemi decided to cross the street opposite her at the same time, and what was left of her heart skipped several beats.

For all her efforts to put distance between them, she still loved him, and it was a realization so bitter she thought she would start dry heaving right there on the pavement. She tried to duck her head, to avoid catching his attention, but the crosswalk light changed, and he was suddenly walking towards her, and she couldn’t help but chance a glance up.

Lilac eyes collided with her own, and Y/N thought the world was about to open beneath her and swallow her whole.

His gaze lingered for a touch longer than normal for a stranger, and Y/N feared he’d be able to see the scars from her tears on her face or see how her heart still bore the tattoo of his name. But then he blinked, and she took the chance to vanish among the throng of students, dashing back to her dorm before the tears could spill down her cheeks once more.

She barely made it to her room before her legs gave out from under her, her sobs choking from her throat.

She wished her mother had taken her with her.

—————————————————————————

It was fitting that Y/N met the personification of spring at the start of the spring semester.

Her name was Mitsuri, and Y/N sat next to her in her 8:00 AM class. The girl was so bubbly and bright that it was difficult, even for the drab Y/N to resist striking up a conversation with her. Mitsuri was a streak of color that bloomed across Y/N’s eternal gray sky, with her exotic pink and green hair and permanent blush. It took only a few weeks, but Mitsuri and Y/N became the best of friends, and Y/N could not get over how good it felt to have one of those again.

Mitsuri and Y/N began to do everything together, and bit by bit, Y/N felt herself smiling more, laughing as her friend flirted with every him, her, and them who crossed their path. They figured out they shared nearly every class together, and when they weren’t furiously taking notes during their lectures, they were studying together in small corners around campus, dreaming of what was to come after exams and graduation in a year and a half.

Her pink-haired friend helped Y/N feel confident again, like a person. Mitsuri helped bring Y/N back out of the shell she’d so carefully crafted in the wake of her abandonment, and she began to feel a little lighter, a little more buoyant thanks to the happy, beautiful girl at her side.

That wasn’t to say Mitsuri didn’t have her own demons – she very much did. At night, Mitsuri and Y/N push their beds together in the latter’s dorm (Y/N’s first roommate had long since moved out). There, huddled together under the mess of blankets and pillows, they would whisper the names of their heartache with one another – Sanemi and Obanai – and they comforted each other, wiping their tears away with soft promises that as long as they had one another, they would be okay.

By March, Mitsuri convinced Y/N to go clubbing with her. Y/N was hesitant until she looked in the mirror after her friend had spent the evening primping her and turning her into a woman Y/N scarcely recognized in the mirror. Her friend had dressed her in a short, emerald green dress that hugged every curve just right, a teasing slit going high up on her left thigh. Y/N’s hair had been slicked back into a high ponytail that swung tantalizingly between her shoulder blades. Her cleavage was a bit more exposed in the pinkette’s dress than Y/N was accustomed to, but damn if she didn’t look downright sumptuous.

Y/N was determined to let loose, to not think about the black stain on her heart that was him, and so she greedily accepted Mitsuri’s hand as the two braved the chilly, early spring air. Mitsuri pulled her through the doors of the club -- the Kizuki Moon Lounge -- and for the first time in a year and a half, she felt alive.

Beneath the strobe of multi-colored lights, amidst the pulsing bass of the techno-music threatening to rupture her eardrums, Y/N had found herself anew; no longer was she the sad, morose girl who barely existed. Under Mitsuri’s care, Y/N transformed into a raving princess, who owned the sticky floor of the Kizuki’s club each time she and her friend traipsed onto it in their too-high heels, wearing too-short dresses and clutching too-strong drinks in their greedy hands.

In April, Mitsuri introduced her to Shinobu, a wisp of a pharmacology student who was every bit as beautiful as she was terrifying, though Y/N could not exactly place why the petite girl could scare off any ill-intentioned man that tried to swagger over to them, given her ever-present, sugary-sweet smile.

She also met three girls – Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma – who were beautiful and fun-loving and rounded out the newly-formed friend group with their fire-and-ice personalities.

First, there was Hinatsuru – quieter, but still capable of throwing it back and having a grand old time, especially once her drink of choice (rum and Coke) had the opportunity to work its way through her blood. A pretty blush was always the telltale sign that Hina was ready to jump up on a table and captivate anyone who had the pleasure of watching her dance.

Next, there was Makio, brash and bold, but fiercely loyal. Some asshole had made the mistake of snapping the thong-like top of Mitsuri’s skirt once and found his head shoved down on the table, his arm pulled back in a self-defense maneuver as the dark-haired beauty threatened to wrench the man’s offending arm from its socket.

Finally, there was Suma, who often clung to the other two like a lost child, but once she gained her confidence, would flirt with absolutely anything and everything that moved, with a sultry giggle and a bat of her pretty eyes. Within only twenty minutes of knowing her, Suma had convinced Y/N to make out with her, the beautiful girl tasting like cotton candy and summertime as their tongues lazily danced together beneath the throb of the club lights.

With her new group of girlfriends, Y/N began to lose herself to the alluring beck and call of Ubayashiki’s local rave scene, her nights quickly becoming defined by sticky drinks and jeweled makeup, and the skimpy outfits Mitsuri always shoved her into. But she could not find it in her heart to care, because for once, her mind was on something else that didn’t involve the smell of pine, or lavender eyes, or the feeling of a home that no longer existed.

But even though the sour drinks made her feel so warm and vibrant while she danced, there were still moments when clarity hit and she missed them.

She missed the way Kyojuro’s strong arm would drape around her shoulders, heavy and warm, and how his embrace always felt like home, his deep laugh infectious.

She missed the way Sanemi would pretend to hug her unwillingly but would leave his hands lingering on her back or her waist once she moved to pull away, a small smirk tugging on the corners of his tantalizing mouth. She missed the smell of his cologne, woodsy and clean, as he would lean in close to her face to tease her until she blushed.

She missed them so much that the sharp sting of alcohol eventually stopped dulling the pulsing ache in the cavity where her heart once beat. No matter how many shots, no matter how many sticky acid drinks she tossed back, that gnawing in her chest would not cease.

Then, one night, Shinobu pressed a small, lilac pill into her hand, and everything changed.

Initially, Y/N was apprehensive, because the pill perfectly matched the hue of the eyes of the person she wanted to forget most. But Shinobu promised her that this pill she’d created in a lab for school – Wisteria – will have her feeling like a kid on Christmas, and that promise, coupled with a flutter of Shinobu’s pretty eyelashes made Y/N cave.

At first, she felt nothing, no impact beyond the slight buzz provided by the round of shots she’d done upon first arriving at the Kizuki. But then, as Mitsuri twirled her beneath the flashing lights of pink and yellow, Y/N’s world exploded with a vibrance she’d neither seen nor felt in nearly two years. Everything, all at once, became magical; effervescent; infinite.

The Wisteria seeped into her veins and made her feel like Christmas lights had been implanted under her skin. Y/N felt shiny and beautiful and sparkly under the combined effect of Shinobu’s magical concoction and the balancing burn of her tequila, and with her new group of girlfriends flanking her side as they bumped to and ground against one another to the beat of the music, Y/N felt almost like she did when it was just her and her boys. Only now, Y/N felt even better, because, with her girls, she could ignore the way the black in her heart was slowly beginning to fester, even if that meant Y/N was beginning to feel more and more numb with each passing rendezvous at the club.

Because that numbness meant that at least she couldn’t feel the acrid bite of her unrequited love for him, and that was what she wanted all along, right?

————————————��————————————

(May)

Of course, Y/N should’ve known she couldn’t stay light and resplendent and numb in her neon and black light paradise forever. Because unfortunately, despite the large student body at Ubaya-U, her new friend group just has to intermingle with them.

Really, it was all Shinobu’s fault. Towards the end of the semester, Shinobu began dating a quiet, withdrawn boy named Giyuu, who happened to be good friends with the man that Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma all have a thing for – Tengen.

Tengen was a recent graduate of Ubaya-U, and an even more recent hire at the local police department, his imposing size and discerning ears a coveted asset amongst the group of detectives who’d scouted him out. Having someone affiliated with the local police be part of their group ended up being a huge advantage to them, however, given the general inclination for people to look the other way whenever Shinobu began dealing her Wisteria in the secluded corners of the Kizuki’s lounge.

What was not an advantage, however, were Tengen’s friends, because Tengen, apparently, had become best fucking friends with Kyojuro, and by default, him.

Y/N stood awkwardly between Mitsuri and Shinobu as the latter presented her group of girlfriends to the new, rag-tag medley of boys that now included the very two Y/N had gone to great lengths to avoid. She tried to ignore the burning weight of both boys’ stares as Y/N finally introduced herself to Shinobu’s new boy toy. Only when she could not possibly avoid them any longer, not without raising questions, did Y/N finally allow herself to turn to them.

“Y/N!” Kyojuro looked so surprised to see her and yet, so overjoyed that it didn’t feel fair.

Y/N could tell by the jerky way the blonde’s arms twitched towards her that he’d been about to envelop her in one of his signature bear hugs, but he’d hesitated, apparently uncertain whether he was still permitted to do so.

Ultimately, Kyojuro’s elation at seeing her once again won over his doubt, and he pulled her in tightly against his chest, his arms squeezing her with a security she hadn’t realized she’d been missing. For the briefest moment, Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as she allowed herself to thaw, ever so slightly, in the fierce warmth of her friend’s embrace.

It was a mistake; the moment she’d allowed herself to relax, she’d felt the damning prickle of tears behind her eyelids, and an uncomfortable lump had begun to take form in her throat. So with more reluctance than Y/N wanted to acknowledge she felt, she stepped away from Kyojuro, hoping that the dim lights of the club concealed the mist clouding her eyes.

Unfortunately, the end of Y/N’s reunion with her former, fiery friend meant there were no more obstacles, no more distractions, between her and the white-haired, scar-speckled man who gazed at her with an intensity that, to her annoyance, still made her want to squirm.

And as his eyes bore into her, she chanted over and over in her mind for him not to say it, to not let her name fall from his lips, because she could not bear to hear it. It would’ve been easier, so much easier, if he simply pretended like she didn’t exist, because then she could go on pretending like she wasn’t walking around without a heart; like he hadn’t been carrying it with him even all these months later.

His eyes did not match the smirk he had as he said her name, but it still took everything Y/N had not to fold right there.

But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t let him know that he still held any power over her, and so she merely raised an eyebrow at him and smirked back, challenging him.

“Sanemi.”

—————————————————————————

“’Sanemi’ is your name when I’m mad at you,” Y/N warned him, tapping his knuckles with the spoon she used to stir the cake batter. “Otherwise, you’re just ‘Nemi.’”

Sanemi smirked at her, sticking his finger back into the bowl to swipe another glob of cake batter as Y/N mixed Kyojuro’s birthday cake together. “And what about when I’m being annoying?”

Y/N flicked a bit of batter at him, nailing him perfectly on his nose with the chocolate mixture. “Asshole seems the most appropriate.” She squatted down to pull a baking pan out from below her mother’s stove. “Did you remember to get the candles?”

The grocery bag crinkled as her white-haired best friend shook it, the box of candles within jostling. “Sixty-one candles for the sixty-one-year-old man,” Sanemi said proudly.

“Haha,” Y/N mocked, though she swiped the bag from his hand to check to ensure he’d actually bought sixteen and not, as he claimed, sixty-one candles. “I’m impressed. It seems you are capable of following directions.”

Sanemi leaned across the counter and peered up into her face, that damn smirk of his widening as he saw the faint blush creep across her cheeks. “I always follow your directions, Y/N.” He said lowly, raising a finger to wipe a speck of cake batter from her cheek.

“Hardly,” Y/N scoffed, using the need to get Kyojuro’s cake in the oven as an excuse to turn away from him and hide her warming face. “I think you prefer malicious compliance.”

“You wound me!” Sanemi protested, splaying across her mother’s counter in mock-injury. “When have I ever not followed your instructions with a smile on my face?”

Y/N turned back to him with a teasing grin. “’Nemi, since when do you ever smile?”

—————————————————————————

Shinobu’s eyes flickered back and forth between them, a smile forming on her face even as Mitsuri tugged pleadingly at her hand. “Do you two know each other?”

Sanemi said “yes” at the same time Y/N said “no,” and the former’s head snapped to Y/N’s face, who fought to keep her features neutral and cool. “Not anymore, anyways.” She clarified though she refused to acknowledge the way Sanemi flinched in response.

Shinobu looked between them again, her smile fading to something more pensive. Kyojuro only continued to watch Y/N, his expression sad and so very out of place in this castle of infinite pleasure and fun, and Y/N found herself desperate to escape it – to escape them.

Suma, the gods’ gift to the universe, interrupted the tense moment with her arrival, and she produced a small baggie of those lilac pills that promised Y/N’s escape. Y/N could feel both Kyojuro and Sanemi gawking at her as Suma pulled her in close, the little lilac pill already dissolving on her tongue, and kissed her, as they’d done so many times before.

When the raven-haired girl pulled away with a giggle on her lips, Y/N looked back to her former friends and held her tongue out, Suma’s pill now almost completely dissolved in her mouth, and she winked at them. Let them realize that their Y/N was long-gone, buried alongside the mother whose death they refused to acknowledge.

Suma offered the newcomers a pill each, and Y/N was surprised that both accepted. Kyojuro hesitated more than the ivory-haired man next to him, who held Y/N’s eyes as he placed the little tablet on his own wicked tongue, an answer to her earlier challenge. Y/N grimaced at the idea that Sanemi was willing to play along in this little game, willing to impose upon her paradise if it meant torturing her a little more.

So Y/N tossed her hair over her shoulders and turned her back to him, letting Suma and then Makio, tug her back into the crush of people on the dance floor to twirl and grind to the music, as both boys stared after her and she let herself be lost to them once more.

—————————————————————————

He found her the following Friday, as she waited against the bar for her drink.

“And where have you been hidin’ all this time?” Y/N fought the shiver that threatened to lick up her spine at the sound of that cursed, gravelly voice that had always made her weak at the knees.

But Y/N hadn’t spent the last twenty months learning how to keep off of Sanemi Shinazugawa’s radar for nothing, hadn’t learned to keep her grief and rage and pain locked deep inside the empty cavern of her chest, just to crumble under the intensity of that lilac stare.

Y/N threw her head back to swallow the shot of tequila the bartender had placed in front of her before turning to face him. Sanemi looked every bit the simpering, cocky asshole she’d always known him to be, leaning up against the sticky wood of the bar, one fist resting idly under his cheek as he watched her.

She met his gaze evenly, shoulders loose with a relaxedness that she didn’t feel. “I’ve been right here,” she replied smoothly.

Sanemi shook his head, clicking his tongue disapprovingly at her. “Nah, you haven’t,” he downed his own shot of vodka before returning his eyes to her, looking her over in consideration. “Though, I guess it would’ve been hard to know it was you anyways.”

Y/N bristled at the comment but kept her voice light. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Sanemi watched her carefully for a moment, though his eyebrows furrowed, as though he was struggling to choose his words. “I just wouldn’t have expected to see you in a place like this.” He decided, after a moment, a frown tugging at the corners of his sinful mouth.

It was Y/N’s turn to smirk. “That would assume you knew me at all to begin with,” she challenged, motioning to the bartender for another shot.

Something tightened in Sanemi’s eyes as he held her gaze, and it clenched the knot of unease that had balled in her stomach. “I did, once.”

Y/N kept her face impassive. “Maybe, as a girl.” She accepted her second shot from the bartender and brought it to her lips, biting down on a wince as the sharp burn of the cheap liquid slid down her throat. “But not as a woman.”

Though she did not show it, his words struck a wound deep within her that she’d not realized still festered; because, as hard as she tried to pretend that the man beside her was a mere stranger, his words reminded her of the harsh truth.

She was still in love with him; had been, ever since she’d learned what love meant.

A shadow flashed across his face before disappearing, that insufferable smirk sliding onto his face once more. “I guess you’re right; a girl doesn’t wear a dress like that.” Sanemi purred.

Y/N fluttered her eyelashes at him, a foreign boldness taking over her mind even as the echo of her heart begged her to flee. “Do you like what you see, Sanemi?”

Her former friend’s answering grin was wolfish. “I’ve always liked what I’ve seen of you, Y/N,” he grabbed her last shot from her hand, ignoring the protest in her eyes as he tipped the tequila back easily down his throat. “You just always seem to disappear before I have a chance to properly appreciate you.”

Y/N knew she should run away from him, and fast, but her hand betrayed her as it reached up to brush a bit of confetti from his hair that lingered from earlier. She nearly hummed in satisfaction at the way Sanemi’s breath hitched in his throat as she drew close, her fingers just barely grazing the skin of his forehead.

“Guess you’ll have to catch me.” Was her only response, before Y/N departed for the dance floor and her friends once more.

Sanemi’s eyes remained locked on her the entire night.

————————————————————————

The days blurred into weeks, as Y/N and Sanemi’s new relationship took form.

The convergence of their friend groups was inevitable, though Y/N resented it; but now, they all went out as a unit, rather than as two separate groups which just so happened to run into one another, and it annoyed Y/N to no end.

More annoying was the fact that Sanemi seemed as willing to partake in the sacred ritual of taking Shinobu’s precious Wisteria with them, though he seemed to do it less out of a desire to feel like the flashing strobe lights of the club and more so because he wanted to get on Y/N’s nerves.

“Drugs are bad for your health, y’know,” that damnable gravelly voice snapped her attention away from the Wisteria that sat in Shinobu’s palm.

Sanemi’s shoulder bumped into hers as he came to stand beside her in a darkened corner of the Kizuki’s seating lounge, out of sight from prying eyes as Shinobu dispersed her latest batch of tiny purple pills, a smirk on his lips and a challenge in his eyes.

Y/N scoffed, reaching to take the small offering from her friend’s hand. “And so is that vodka you keep slugging back.” Y/N’s fingers were about to close around the Wisteria when Sanemi plucked it from the dark-haired girl’s hand, a cry of indignation squeaking past Y/N’s lips.

Sanemi held the pill teasingly in front of her mouth as Y/N glowered up at him. “Open up,” he ordered, pinching her key to paradise between his thumb and index finger.

Eyes locked with his, Y/N slowly let her lips part and held out her tongue. Sanemi leaned forward, taking her jaw in his free hand as he placed the small tablet on her tongue with the other.

“Good girl,” he murmured, eyes lowering to her mouth as he watched her, hungrily.

As she accepted the Wisteria from him, Y/N let her tongue flick out and graze against his skin, dragging it lightly up the calloused edge of his index finger before she closed her mouth, letting the tablet dissolve on her tongue. Sanemi exhaled harshly through his nose, his hand gripping her chin possessively as he stared down at her mouth, and Y/N thought for a moment that he was about to give in right there and kiss her.

At the last moment, Kyojuro clapped him on the shoulder as he returned from the bar, and the spell was broken. Y/N blushed slightly as she turned back to Shinobu who made no secret of her raised eyebrow at the exchange between the two former friends.

Later, as she broke away from her friends dancing on the floor, she’d noticed Sanemi for once, was not looking at her, but at the hand he’d used to slip her the Wisteria, an unreadable heat in his eyes.

————————————————————————-

Sanemi liked to watch her while she danced.

At first, it had been unsettling to feel a pair of eyes boring into her back as she bumped and ground against Mitsuri or Suma, head tossed back as she let Shinobu’s pills work their magic, but she’d grown accustomed to it. Now, she craved the knowledge that he was thoroughly transfixed by her, because that meant at the very least, she was filling his thoughts while they were out almost as much as he filled hers every moment of the day, despite her efforts to numb him out of her life.

She’d confided her secret joy in Mitsuri, who’d conspiratorially promised her they would do anything and everything to drive the lilac-eyed man wild with desperation so that he might feel an ounce of the pining he’d shackled Y/N to feeling every time he so much as looked her way.

One night, a gaggle of them had gathered over in one of the Kizuki’s seated lounge areas as Shinobu pressed her Wisteria into their greedy, waiting palms. Sanemi’s eyes were locked on Y/N, as they usually were, as she’d exchanged a knowing glance with her pink-haired best friend and placed her pill beneath the heavy glass of her discarded drink and ground the violet pill into magic dust.

Eyes on Sanemi, Y/N delicately cupped the powder in one hand and brought her free fingers to the low bodice of her corseted top, tugging lightly on the strings to loosen it, inching it down lower to reveal the tops of the twin swells of her breasts, though stopping before she could be accused of exposing herself in public. She then turned her attention back to Mitsuri, her pink-and-green friend watching her with a sugary deviousness that made her stomach bubble with excitement.

Wordlessly, Y/N leaned back on the table, to the cheers and cat-calls of her friends, and she sprinkled some of the violet dust along the exposed top of her cleavage. Mitsuri leaned over her body, all vanilla perfume and pink hair tickling Y/N’s delicate skin as her friend held one nostril closed and inhaled every speck of the amethyst powder with the other. Y/N’s eyes rolled back into her head, and she let out a wanton moan beneath the black lights of the Kizuki, as her best friend kissed her collarbone in thanks.

Sanemi had gruffly excused himself for the bathroom and did not return for another five minutes. In his absence, Mitsuri had slyly let Y/N know that his eyes hadn’t once left her face throughout the entire vulgar exchange, much to her secret delight.

Y/N knew she was dancing closer and closer to the fire.

She knew that Sanemi wasn’t far from snapping, from losing whatever restraint he thought he had when it came to her, as she deliberately pressed each one of his buttons every time their group ventured out.

The next time he came close to breaking was when he saw another put his hands on her.

A hand gripped her ass, and Y/N turned and saw a man with long white hair and odd-colored eyes give her a wink. He was attractive, that was certain, but there was something predatory in his eyes that made her feel gross, so she moved closer to her circle of friends, keeping an eye over her shoulder.

Eventually, the strange man wandered off, and Y/N felt as though she could relax once more as she swung her hips to the beat thumping over the stereo strongly enough to make the dance floor vibrate. Shinobu held out a hand that Y/N eagerly grabbed, her friend twirling her as she laughed, carefree and alive beneath the resplendent rainbow of lights.

The song slowed to something more sensual, and Y/N was about to take her cue and move toward the bar when a hand grazed her upper arm.

Though it had been nearly two years since she’d last felt his touch, Y/N knew only one person capable of bestowing such a warm and gentle caress, even in spite of his hardened appearance.

Sanemi, to her eternal surprise, had made an appearance on the dance floor – his first if she remembered correctly.

His eyebrow was raised in question at her, and Y/N couldn’t help but appreciate he was asking permission to dance with her, rather than just sidling up and grinding on her like any other man would.

Sanemi looked so god damn handsome in that printed short-sleeve shirt. His sleeves had been cuffed to further show off his considerable biceps, and he’d left the top three buttons open, revealing his scarred but downright divinely toned chest. As he leaned in slightly, waiting for her permission, Y/N caught a whiff of his cologne, and it smelled like home.

Fuck it, she thought, her lips curving up into a siren’s smile as he stepped closer to her, bringing one large hand up to hold her waist as they began rocking to the beat of the music. Their foreheads were nearly touching as their bodies pressed closer and closer together, Y/N’s hips completely flush against his as they danced. Their noses brushed, and Y/N realized how dangerously close their lips had come.

Sanemi brought his other hand up to press against the small of her back, the one on her waist tightening slightly. Y/N looped one arm around his neck, her other hand coming to rest against his chest as they ground, Sanemi setting the pace perfectly in time with the beat.

Through her eyelashes, Y/N could see Sanemi’s amethyst gaze drop to her lips.

She knew she should pull away; she knew if she let him close the distance between their lips, she would also be closing the distance she’d spent so much time carefully crafting between her, and him, and even Kyojuro.

But Y/N also knew she couldn’t pull away, either; she’d waited, for so damn long, to know what his lips would feel like, and she was drunk and a little high, so the inhibitions that would normally have sent her running had long since been overshadowed by her unbounded want for him.

She felt his breath against her lips, and she closed her eyes.

Before she could finally achieve her lifelong dream of kissing Sanemi Shinazugawa, the music changed from the slow, sensual beat that they had been grinding to, to something louder, faster, and more exciting.

A scream grew louder as Mitsuri returned from heaving her guts up in the bathroom, and grabbed Y/N’s wrist, wrenching her from Sanemi’s grip and hauling her deeper into the dance floor to rave alongside her.

By the time Y/N was able to emerge from the surging crush of people dancing and raving, Sanemi was already back at the bar, leaning against it with his beer in hand, watching her.

She’d half expected him to look angry, but he only raised his drink at her, in toast.

The smirk that tugged on the corners of his mouth was full of promise.

—————————————————————————

Y/N supposed it was inevitable that this game of cat-and-mouse they’d been playing would end, and end like this.

She’d known where the night was heading the moment she showed up at the club in Mitsuri’s emerald green dress – the one she’d worn her very first time there in that strobe light palace – and saw his eyes darken from lilac to eggplant. Y/N felt the blazing heat of his stare in her bones even as she danced with her girls, could feel his magnetic pull as he watched her like a predator eyeing its next meal.

The more sober part of her was nervous, knew that she was about to cross a line she couldn’t walk back from. She knew that what was about to happen – giving her first time to Sanemi – would do nothing but exacerbate the poisonous love in her heart, but that part of her was so small, so feeble against the fire she felt in her blood as she approached the bar where he stood.

She pretended not to notice that he watched every move she made as she leaned over the ledge to order another shot. Only after the bartender placed the little glass in front of her, only after she tipped her head back and let the acid liquid slide down her throat, did she turn to meet his punishing gaze.

“You really should try joining in on the fun, Sanemi,” she kept her voice at a normal volume, forcing him to lean in slightly to hear her over the pulsing beat of the club music. She resisted the urge to close her eyes as the familiar whiff of his cologne hit her nose, the smell of a home and of a time before he ripped her heart out and stomped it to dust.

Sanemi smirked, and her stomach dipped at just how beautiful he looked, standing there below the pulsing glow of the lights. “I’m havin’ fun watching from here.” His lips were close enough to her ear that she shivered, gooseflesh erupting over her bare arms.

She wouldn’t let him know how much he still got to her, but she also couldn’t resist teasing him a little further, curious to see how far she could push him until he broke. She lifted her hand to pat the part of his chest he’d left exposed, his skin burning under her touch, as she made to pass him.

Sanemi snapped.

He grabbed her hand before she could pull it away and tugged her closer to him, knocking Y/N’s breath from her as he whirled her around and pressed her up against the dirty club wall to kiss her like she’d never been kissed before. He pinned the hand she’d had on his chest against the wall, over her head, while the other burned its imprint onto her waist. His kiss was demanding and hard, but Y/N was addicted to him. She brought her free hand to his neck, digging her nails in slightly to the sensitive skin to elicit a growl from him as he nipped her bottom lip.

Sanemi released the arm he’d pinned to the greasy club wall to hold the side of her face, tilting her head to he could deepen their kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth to dance with her own. Y/N couldn’t control her body as she pressed into him, desperate to feel him against her, to feel him fill every empty part of her until she felt whole again. She knew she was dooming herself further, knew she was only setting herself up to fall harder than she already had, but she couldn’t stop because it was Sanemi, and she loved him.

She felt his growing hardness against her thigh, and she couldn’t stop her hips from grinding against him, heat pooling in her belly. Sanemi moaned into her mouth as her hips undulated against his, and Y/N felt herself go molten at the sound. She wanted to make him do it again and again, but Sanemi tore his mouth from hers before she could.

His chest was heaving, and his eyes were wild and dark as he looked at her. His eyes fell on her reddened, kiss-swollen mouth, and even in the dim light of the club, Y/N could see his pupils explode. He grabbed her hand, and suddenly he was tugging her through the crowded dance floor, through the groups of people near the exit, until they were outside, the night air cool on their overheated skin.

Together, they stumbled down dark, empty streets, though Y/N could not find it in herself to feel afraid, because Sanemi was there, and while he may not have cared about her enough to love her, he was still a gentleman who wouldn’t let her be hurt by anyone but him. They walked as she laughed because he kept stopping and pulling on her hand to kiss her again and again, as though he too, could not get enough of her.

Y/N didn’t know where they were going, but eventually, they arrived at an apartment complex, and it dawned on her that he’d brought her to his home. His lips were on hers the whole walk to his door, never breaking even as he fumbled for his keys. Sanemi finally unlocked the door and pushed her inside his dark apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.

Sanemi’s hands shot for her waist as he crushed her against him, his tongue licking the roof of her mouth. Y/N was sweaty and slightly sticky from the club, but the way Sanemi held her to him made her feel so god damn pretty like he’d been set adrift in a starless sea and she was his only lifeline. Sanemi’s hands moved from her waist to cup her ass, kneading her flesh as he moaned into her mouth again. His hands slid lower, grabbing her thighs to lift her up so her legs could wrap around his waist.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmurs, her head tilted back as Sanemi’s lips laid claim to her neck, his hips pressing her harshly against the entryway wall of his apartment.

The snow-haired man groaned, his hands fondling the soft curve of her ass beneath her dress. “Then tell me to stop,” he whispered, his breath hot as his tongue teasingly traced across her collarbone.

Y/N whimpered as she tightened her legs around his hips, locking him closer to her. If he stopped then, she thought she would fall completely apart.

“Tch, just as I thought,” his teeth nipped harshly against her throat as Sanemi pulled back to look into her eyes. “You can’t.”

Sanemi set her down, but he did not pull away, instead kneeling before her to run his large, warm hands up the length of her calves before bringing them around to the back of her knees. He tapped each leg one at a time, signaling her to lift it slightly. With a jolt, Y/N was completely suspended in the air with both legs over his shoulders, as he buried his face into her cunt.

He did not even bother removing the flimsy, lacy thong she’d worn under her dress, choosing instead to bypass it entirely as his tongue dragged right up her slit. Y/N’s head smacked into the wall behind her as she moaned, and she couldn’t tell whether it was the Wisteria or Sanemi that had her seeing fractals of light behind her eyes. She found that she didn’t much care either way, however, because what Sanemi was doing to her felt fucking incredible.

Her fingers fisted in his hair as Sanemi fucked her with his tongue, his teeth grazing across her clit in time with his thrusts into her. He was groaning lewdly as he feasted upon her, eyes lifting every so often to meet hers, to ensure she was enjoying it as much as he was.

“I knew you’d taste fucking sweet,” he muttered as he broke for air, fingers digging firmly into her ass as he hauled her back onto his mouth. His tongue darted in and out of her folds, lapping up every drop of her essence that he coaxed out of her, before he dove right back into her entrance, forcing her to ride his tongue as she writhed above him. Y/N desperately sought to grab onto anything for purchase, so that she could grind harder against his face, but Sanemi had her pinned in the middle of the wall, rendering her helpless to let him tear her first orgasm from her, followed by another, and then another, never once lifting his mouth off her tender core.

Eventually, Sanemi decided he’d had enough, and he moved to carry her to his bedroom. Just after he tossed her onto his plush mattress, there was a moment before he pounced on her when Y/N could really look at him. The only source of light was from the full moon outside, casting everything in Sanemi’s bedroom in its silvery glow. The moonlight illuminated the soft platinum of his hair, made his lavender irises melt into precious gems of amethyst as he raked his eyes over her panting, blushing form. His gaze darkened at the sight of her dress strap, hanging off her shoulder, before dropping to the hem that has ridden up her legs.

Y/N barely had time to take another breath before he was on her again, almost ripping the fabric from her in his haste to get it off, to expose her.

“This fucking dress,” he growled in her ear, finally tugging the zipper all the way down and shoving it down her legs, chucking the flimsy material behind him.

She was almost bare to him, but he was still clothed, far too clothed. Y/N sat up and ripped his shirt, the buttons popping all over the bed while he smirked down at her. She couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed, however, because then his skin was touching hers, and it felt like heaven even if Y/N knew she was only descending deeper into hell.

Sanemi graced her lips with one more bruising kiss before beginning his descent down her body, and Y/N felt electrified under his touch.

His hot mouth first came to her bare breasts. “Fuck,” he whispered as he let his tongue trace the first of her mounds, swirling around her hardened nipple before letting his teeth nip gently at her. Y/N squirmed under his ministrations, the sensation foreign to her and yet somehow, it felt wholly right, that the first person to explore her body this way would be him.

Not that she would tell him, of course; she didn’t want him to hold back, she needed him to fuck her as though there was no tomorrow. If he knew it was her first time, he would slow, or perhaps insist on stopping altogether, given that they were both high, and she couldn’t have that.

Sanemi pressed his hips down against hers, pinning her against the mattress and stilling her movements as he took his time lavishing her breasts, covering her in small marks that he soothes with sweet kisses that were enough to get her utterly drunk on him. Y/N let out a high-pitched whine as she felt Sanemi grind against the mattress as he sucked on her other breast, his abdomen pressing deliciously against her aching cunt still covered by the lace of her thong, as she desperately swiveled her hips, eager for him to relieve her once more.

Her desperation spurred his movement, as he detached himself from her breast with a low groan, resuming his descent down her body, pausing only to suck and nip at her stomach, before settling between her legs once more. Sanemi’s lips met the band of her thong and he growled, deep and guttural as he pressed his nose against her, inhaling deeply and letting his tongue flick out once more to lap at her wetness over the rough lace obscuring her from view.

Y/N was nearly sobbing from overstimulation, Sanemi having already ensured she’d finished on his tongue three times in the hallway. Now, she needed him to fill her, and quick, or else she thought she would combust.

“Sanemi,” she whined, and his eyes flicked back up to hers, dark with want. “Please, I need you.”

Her words had an instantaneous effect on the heaving man between her legs, because suddenly his body was covering her own, his weight pressing down on her, and his pants were gone, and he was slamming into her with a force that left her screaming and writhing against his soft sheets.

“Shit!” Sanemi snarled in her ear as his cock plunged into her dripping heat, so tight and so unaccustomed to the thick length now bullying in and out of her with abandon. “You’re so – ah – fuckin’ perfect.”

Y/N was sobbing on his mattress, but not from any discomfort. The combination of Sanemi’s body mixing with the Wisteria had utterly blurred out any pain or unease she felt at the intrusion of his rigid length into her core, and instead, Y/N felt herself shatter into a million pieces, only to be fucked back together again by Sanemi, who kept one bruising hand on her hip while the other ensnared itself in her hair as he thrust wildly in and out of her.

But she was not close enough for him. The silver-haired god above her pulled her legs over his forearms and braced his hands on her inner thighs to spread her wide as he pounded into her, leaning down into her face to make her blush, just like he used to do. Only now, instead of teasing her, he was whispering filth that had her turning scarlet and begging for more.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted, his hips snapping in and out of her with a ferocity that left her breathless. "You've no idea –”

The speed with which he drilled into her propelled them up his bed, but Sanemi moved an arm to come between her head and the wrought iron of his bedframe, protecting her.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he snarled, sitting back on his knees as he began to bounce her against his groin, her breasts jolting with every forceful snap of his hips.

“Sanemi,” Y/N moaned, her back arching off his luxurious sheets as her legs tightened around his hips. Under his breath, Sanemi swore.

“Again,” he croaked, the sticky pap pap of his hips slapping against hers filling his room with the sweet music of their dance. “Say it again.”

Y/N could hardly process his demand over the sensual drag of his cock in and out of her needy walls, Sanemi’s movements chasing every breath from her and replacing it with him, as though there were some parts of her that remained untainted by him.

“Again,” Sanemi insisted, his groin pressing against hers as he ground against her, his rough base swirling over her aching clit demandingly, causing her legs to spasm around his hips.

“S-Sanemi!” Y/N howled as he lifted himself from the mattress by his knees, taking her hips with him as he suspended her half in mid-air and pounded relentlessly into her, rendering her incapable of making any other sound that wasn’t a devotional to him.

Through bleary eyes, Y/N looked to see Sanemi’s own gaze fixed on the way her mouth was frozen in a perfect “o” as he pulled moan after sigh from her throat with his hips, his fingers digging into the plush of her ass as he bounced her up and down his aching member again and again. Y/N arched her back even more, allowing him to hit deeper within her and she felt an unfamiliar pressure begin to build in her stomach.

It was similar to what she felt out in Sanemi’s hallway, beneath his tongue, but this time was different. Every push and drag of his cock into her syrupy wetness had her feeling electric like the lights of the Kizuki club were being strung beneath her skin and plugged in, and she was slowly becoming a beacon of light for the man chasing his own release above her. Her eyes rolled back into her head as that coil wound tightly, Sanemi’s name falling from her mouth like a plea as she begged him to let her fall apart in his arms.

Above her, Sanemi fared no better, as his hips began to jerk and press into her without the steady rhythym he’d so carefully built, a cacophony of snarls and moans pouring from his mouth along with the filth he muttered against her skin as he sucked harshly at her neck.

Sanemi readjusted his stance above her, his thighs pressing hers down into the mattress, and Y/N lost control.

“N-Nemi!” Y/N gasped as the unfamiliar coil in her belly suddenly unwound. She was far too overcome by her pleasure to recognize she’d accidentally used her old, affectionate nickname for him as she reached her peak.

But the slip did not go unnoticed by the snow-haired man rutting into her from above, as the moment the nickname fell from her lips in her haze, Sanemi’s own release followed, his seed barreling into her hot and fast as a pleasured cry of her name tore from his throat.

Sanemi’s hips rolled into hers for what felt like hours as he poured every ounce of himself into her greedy, demanding core, Y/N taking every drip of his cum. It felt exquisite, to have the man she’d so desperately loved for so long be reduced to such a mess by her body, and Y/N savored the way his warmth filled her, as though it were possible of bestowing life back upon her even though it was he who’d chased it away to begin with.

He collapsed atop her, finally spent and satisfied, an arm winding around her waist as he sleepily pressed a kiss into the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Sanemi rolled to his back, pulling her with him, and locking her against his chest as though they were lovers. But the combination of the night’s activities with the dwindling effects of the Wisteria had exhausted him, and it was not long before his chest began rising and falling in a steady pattern of sleep.

Y/N giggled quietly to herself, marveling over the fact that her tolerance for Shinobu’s Wisteria was apparently much higher than his. Under the moonlight, she found her dress puddled in a corner of his room and shrugged it back on, gathering her heels in one hand and locating her bag with the other. She turned back and looked at the sleeping face of the man who still held her heart and smiled slightly, before closing his bedroom door gently and taking off into the summer night.

There was a new ache between her legs, no doubt the product of having her virginity taken in such an enthusiastic way by the man she’d left sleeping in his apartment, though he was none the wiser. Y/N felt oddly satisfied, as though she’d achieved some lifelong goal, as the summer air caressed her face. As she stumbled down the night-warmed pavement back to her apartment, Y/N laughed, her chest feeling light and empty for the first time in a long while.

Want more angst? Smut? Pain? Stick around for part two and see shit literally hit the fan.

Likes, reblogs, tags, and comments are always appreciated!!

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atinyfeels · 18 days

Text

ateez: he compares you to his ex [2]

『 pairing: bf!ateez x fem reader ╺ requested? yes ╺ genre: mostly angst, slight fluff 』

warnings: slight cursing, depression

word cout: 6.1k

notes: I ended up writing this while at work and I got carried away -C ╺ May 3rd: Yeosang’s has been completely rewritten - C

masterlist | part one

Seonghwa:

"y/n!" you heard someone call from behind you.

You didn't have to guess who it was, his voice was engraved in your mind. But that didn't mean you were planning on stopping for him. Pushing the door opened, you made your way outside and headed towards the parking lot. You were barely half way to your car when you felt someone grab your arm and turn you around.

Seonghwa stared at you, his face showing concern when he noticed your red puffy eyes. "I am so, so sorry."

You scoff and look away from him, "It's not exactly your fault. I pushed you to go out with me. I pressured you when you were vulnerable. I thought that I could be better for you, that you would be able to move on with me. But I guess I was just getting my hopes up."

Seonghwa was shaking his head at every word you said. He cupped your face with his hands and gently made you look up at him. "I have no excuse for what I said to you. But don't put yourself down for what I said to you. It was not okay for me to say those things to you, it was rude and obnoxious." You swallowed hard, and blinked away the tears that kept building up. "I have no more feelings for h/e/n, I promise you. The two of us are just friends. But you and I, we are much more than anything my ex and I had. Accepting your confession was the best thing that ever happened to me. I will do anything to make it up to you, I promise you."

You licked your lips and stayed silent for a moment, processing his words. "I just...I just need some time, Hwa. There are some things I need to think about. Is that okay?"

He nods quickly, "whatever you wish, take as much time as you need. I'll be right here whenever you're ready."

You leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. Once you pulled away, you gave him a small smile before turning around and leaving him in the parking lot.

It had been one week since you last spoke to Seonghwa. He kept his promise and gave you as much space as you needed. His missing presence made your home feel so lonely. The thoughts of endless movie nights on the couch and staying in bed together with your bodies entwined. The first night you stayed on the loveseat, not wanting to be in the large empty bed.

You spent most of your time by the window, either watching the spring rain fall or reading a book. It didn't matter what you did, Seonghwa was the only thing filling your mind. You weren't okay with what he had said to you. Nobody should be. You knew the pair was still friends, but they weren't close anymore. Once they broke up and agreed to be friends, there wasn't much contact between the two. But what Seonghwa said still hurt, for the first two months, he was had started drinking more and went partying most nights. Hongjoong felt like he had no control over him.

The rain was hitting against your window, the dark clouds made it seem like it was much later than 5 in the afternoon. You had just poured yourself a new glass of wine, ready to continue your book when your phone began to ring. Setting the glass down, you walked over the kitchen and picked the device up off the counter. Hongjoong was the only thing it said on the screen. This couldn't be good.

"Hello?"

"y/n!" Seonghwa slurred into the phone. there was a commotion on the other side of the phone as he heard Hongjoong yell his members name. "hi honey." his voice sounded so sweet, which made you even more confused. "I've missed you. Joong told me not to call you, so he took my phone away, but I got his instead."

"Seonghwa, have you been drinking?"

He hiccupped into the phone, " a little? I didn't go to a club or anything, I promise. I was feeling mopey, because I missed you and Yunho suggested that we should drink something. I'm at the dorm, I promise." Hongjoong had given up on trying to get the phone from him. That or Seonghwa had went into a different room. It was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "I fucked up, didn't I? I hurt you and now I've lost you."

You sighed, "Seonghwa."

"I tried so hard not trying to ruin this relationship. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect you. I didn't want you to realize that you deserved better than me. And in the end I hurt you." He choked out a sob, making your heartache.

You weren't mad at him anymore, you just wanted some space. You wanted to clear your thoughts of everything before talking with him again. "Seonghwa, is Hongjoong there?"

There was a sound a shuffling before Hongjoong spoke. "Hello?"

"So, I'm going to come pick him up, can you take care of him for me until then?" you ask in a sympathetic tone. "I'm really sorry for this."

"Don't worry about it, I've got him."

You thanked him before you hung up the phone. As you grabbed your bag and jacket, your shoved your feet through your shoes and rushed out the door. It was only a ten minute walk to the dorms from your apartment. Yunho opened the door for you and stepped aside as you made your way to your boyfriends bedroom. He was sat against the wall and his knees brought to his chest.

"Seonghwa." His head lifted up quickly, staring directly into your eyes.

"y/n." He stands up and makes his way over to you, "what are you doing here?" His eyes moved over to Hongjoong who was attempting to sneak out without being seen. "I'm sorry for calling you so abruptly, I've been chugging a lot of water and I'm starting to sober up."

"Seonghwa," you say again, making the man stop talking. You sighed and looked at his puffy eyes. This wasn't what you wanted. You didn't want to hurt him like this, you didn't want to hurt him at all. You just wanted all of this to be over with. "Let's go home, yeah?"

Seonghwa stared at you, processing what you said to him before nodding. "please."

Hongjoong:

Seonghwa stayed quiet as he listened to you explain to him what had happened with Hongjoong. The words were choppy as you were crying, your voice shaky. You hadn't realized how much of a burden you being towards Hongjoong. He had never snapped at you before, it was all a new feeling for you.

Seonghwa reached over and rubbed your back softly, "I'm sure he didn't mean to. He's been really stressed out lately. Coachella, the comeback, the upcoming tour and his ex leaving him is just icing on the cake. I'm not making excuses for him, how he reacted and what he said was completely unacceptable. But I know what he's like when he's stressed. He says things he doesn't mean."

You swallowed hard and nodded, "I should probably get going. Work isn't going to finish by itself." You wiped your tears and stood up, giving Hwa a small smile. "Thank you."

"Uhm," he started before you could walk off, "maybe tonight, we can meet up and get something to eat? We can invite the others too if that would make you feel more comfortable."

"That'd be nice, would probably make me feel a lot better," You agreed.

He nodded. "Great, I'll message you the details later."

After you clocked out of work, Seonghwa sent you a message to meet at a local restaurant that you usually go to as a group. You didn't bother to go home and change your outfit to something more casual, you just wanted some alcohol. The restaurant was only a short walk from your office, so it didn't take you long to arrive.

"Back again I see!" The owner beamed with excitement when she saw you.

You smiled and politely greeted her, "this is the best restaurant on the street."

She laughed at your comment. "Don't you know how to make an old woman smile. Are you meeting with your friends? If you are, they haven't arrived yet but your back corner table to open if you'd like."

You smiled and thanked her before heading to the back of the restaurant. Given the weekday, the restaurant wasn't busy as it usually was. Only a younger couple and a table of three men dressed in suits. You placed your jacket behind your chair and sit down, your back to the door. It wasn't long before the chair beside you skid against the floor, causing you to look up. To your surprise Hongjoong was standing beside you, nobody else in sight.

"Joong," you whispered as he sat beside you. You turned around to see if the boys were with him but they weren't.

"It's only me," Hongjoong told you, making you turn back to him. "Is that okay? I was hoping we could talk."

You nodded as the owner came by and placed a couple of waters in front of you. "I'm sorry," you said once she was out of earshot.

Hongjoong furrowed his eyebrows, looking at you confused. "You shouldn't be the one apologizing. I took my anger out on you for no reason and said hurtful things."

"I know, but I knew you were stressed and I still pushed your buttons. I knew that you felt I was pestering you and I ignored all the signs. I'm really sorry for bothering you so much," you say looking up at him.

He shook his head. "I had no right to take my anger out on you. What I said to you was mean, and it never should've been said. This break up has been really hard on me and it's starting to cloud my judgement. I don't mind if you try to comfort me, you're much better at it than most of the members. I will do better with how I control my words and actions towards you.

"I will do better at trying to read the signs, and I apologize if my feelings for you were overbearing."

Hongjoong paused and looked at you confused. "Feelings for me? You have feelings for me?"

You mentally slapped yourself, guess your crush wasn't as obvious as you thought it was. "S-So are the other members planning on coming? I don't want to order without them."

"Wait, backtrack. You have feelings for me?"

You opened your mouth to say something when you heard a collection of voices come through the door. The remaining 7 members all went to the back to the room and joined you and Hongjoong at the table.

Seonghwa sat across from you and gave you a cheerful smile. "Did we miss anything."

You quickly shook your head, ignoring Hongjoong's shocked expression. "Nothing at all!"

Yunho:

You began picking at your fingers, looking around your apartment. You had been sitting her for well over 30 minutes, trying to find the strength to begin cleaning. Yunho's words echoing in your mind. You hated how he was right. Your depression was becoming an excuse for everything at this point. You didn't clean your apartment, you hadn't been eating properly, making excuses not to meet with friends and spending all your free time locked in your room.

Yunho walked out of your bedroom, rubbing his eyes as he yawned. "y/n?" He flicked on the ceiling light and looked over at you. "it's 7 in the morning, what are you doing up so early on your day off?"

You couldn't find the words, your mind was racing. You didn't want to explain to him that you spent all night watching motivational videos on YouTube. You opened your mouth to say something but instead you choked out a sob and broke down. Yunho quickly rushed over to you and put his hands around you. He held onto you as you both moved to the ground and cried. You felt like your were shrinking, like you were a small child who wanted to run away from the scary things.

"Shh," he cooed softly in your ear as he ran his fingers through your hands. "It's okay. You're okay, I'm here." He patiently waited for you to calm down, constantly repeating over and over again that you were going to be okay and he wasn't going anywhere.

Once you had finally calmed down, you laid your head against his chest and sniffled. "I have depression," you confessed. Yunho didn't say anything, allowing you to continue. "I went to the doctor about it about a month ago, she referred me to a therapist. Everything seemed fine at first but then the more I worked and came home on repeat." You stopped and took a deep breath. "It started to get worse. Everyone's been so busy and I didn't want to burden anyone. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to worry you. I thought that I could handle this on my own."

Yunho pressed a soft, long kiss at the top of your head. "I'm such an asshole. I'm so sorry I called you lazy, honey. I didn't even think to ask if everything was okay, I just automatically assumed things without talking to you about it first."

You turned and looked up at him. "You're not the only one in the wrong here. My therapist has been pushing me to tell a person. I should've spoken to you instead of trying to do this on my own." You swallowed hard, "I've been watching motivational videos all morning to try to help get me started. But the second I stepped out here, I couldn't do anything."

"Well, there's two of us and one apartment. I will help you do the laundry, clean the dishes and take the trash out," he offered, looking around the room before he looked back down at you. "Would that be okay or is that too much in one day?"

You shake your head and give him a small smile. "I think that'd be great."

"I'm going to start coming home more often, even if it's really late," he tells you, making your eyes go wide. "I don't mind the distance and we're just finishing up promotions. I've been missing you like crazy, the space between us is too large." You smiled and leaned up, giving him a long kiss on his lips. When you parted, he smiled and stood up with his hands on his hips. "Now, where should we start?"

Yeosang:

“Come on! You’re going to love it!!” Yeji shouts as she drags you into the house party.

“I’m really not in the mood for this, Yeji!” You tell her.

The house was flooded with people dancing to the loud music and drinking. You didn’t know half the people that were here, hell you weren’t sure if you knew anyone. Yeji was invited by someone from her workplace and insisted that you came with her. Someone bumped into you, making you huff and move closer to her. You kept walking until Yeji found a guy who was waving her over.

“Minho!” Yeji says, embracing the taller man into a hug.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Minho says before letting her go and looking over at you. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is y/n! It’s her first party!” Yeji tells him. You send him a polite smile and wave.

He nods, smiling at you. “I can tell.”

You zoned out the couple and looked around the room. There weren’t many people in this room, mostly people talking or lounging on the couch. You hated being here, you just wanted to pull Yeji out of here and go home.

“You must be a homebody,” someone says, making you look up to find one of Minho’s friends now standing beside you.

You nodded, “yeah. Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“I’m Chan,” he tells you, reaching out his hand for you to shake. He noticed your hesitation and chuckled. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

This made you smile a little before you took his hand in yours. “I’m y/n.”

“Here take this!” Yeji appeared handing you an unopened hard seltzer. “It’s new out of the box and it’ll help with your nerves.”

You watched as she disappeared back to Minho before you opened the can and took a drink. She wasn’t joking when she said it helped with your nerves. You weren’t a lightweight so you weren’t going to get drunk or tipsy off it but it definitely calmed you down. For a while you found yourself chatting with Chan, it wasn’t anything flirtatious but he made you feel more comfortable.

The current song changed to Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter and you let out an excited hum. “I love this song!”

Chan laughed at your excitement, “Well would you like to dance?”

“She’s fine,” a voice says behind, making you look over to find Yeosang staring at Chan.

You furrowed your eyebrows and cross your arms over your chest. “What if i want to dance with him?” This caused Yeosang to snap his head towards you. “Who are you to say what I can and cannot do?”

Chan cleared his throat awkwardly, “I’m gonna go get another drink.”

Neither you nor Yeosang looked up from each other as Chan left the two of you alone. This was your first time seeing Yeosang since you stormed out of the studio a week ago. You hated how he still looked gorgeous as ever.

“What are you doing here?”

Yeosang crossed his arms over his chest, “I should be asking you that. Since when do you come to party like these? Yeji called me and said you needed to be taken home because she left Minho.”

“Yeji called you?” You asked confused, turning around to find Minho & Yeji gone. You groaned, the least she could’ve done was at least given you a heads up. Unless, this was her plan all along. You mentally face palmed your self and groaned. “Damn you, Yeji.”

“I’m not going to force you to leave,” Yeosang assures you. Of course you knew that, you knew better than anyone that he wouldn’t do that to you. “But I will be the one you’re leaving with tonight. You don’t know these people.”

You swallowed hard at his last sentence. “I thought I knew you.” You didn’t think he heard you, but the look on his face made it obvious he heard.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand. You allowed him to lead you out of the party and towards the main road. He helped you into the passenger side of his car before getting in the driver side and pulling off. “You haven’t spoken to me since the day at the studio. I tried calling you the other day but it went straight to voicemail.”

“I’ve been busy, that’s all,” you tell him trying to brush off the conversation.

“It’s because of what I said the other day isn’t it?” he asked, making you look over at him. “About h/e/n?” Your silence was enough confirmation for him. “y/n, i promise you i don’t think that about you.”

“Then why did you say it?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. “Do you not know how much it hurts to hear someone compare you to another person and say you would never compare?”

Yeosang chewed on his bottom lip unsure of what to say. “I don’t know. I guess I was trying to be funny but I wasn’t even thinking about your own feelings.”

You felt the tears build up, “It hurt so much. To hear being compared to someone who is considered perfect to people. Someone who’s considered perfect to you.”

“She’s not!” Yeosang immediately says, reaching over and grabbing your hand in his. The action made your heart skip a beat. “She’s far from perfect, I promise you. y/n, you are the most stunning person I have ever met. you light up the room when you come in. when I saw you talking to Chan, almost dancing with him I felt jealous. Maybe even a little possessive. I never felt that way with h/e/n.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Yeosang pulled into the parking garage of your apartment building and parked the car. Once the car was shut off he turned and looked you in the eyes. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you. Even when i was with h/e/n, I knew that it wasn’t her I was having those feelings for. It was you.”

You swallowed hard and placed a hand on his cheek, “don’t hurt me again.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he tells you before leaning over bringing his lips to yours.

San:

When the group arrived to the amusement park, you stayed glued to Hongjoong's side. Every ride you rode on, you sat between him and Seonghwa. During lunch time you sat them and kept most of your conversations with the two of them. Near the end of the night Hongjoong and Seonghwa began to realize what was actually going on.

San wasn't bothering to talk to you. Instead he was hanging around Yeosang & Wooyoung the whole day. Neither of you spoke to each other or even looked at each other. Hongjoong looked over at Seonghwa, who nodded his head towards a ride that he knew would get the two of you to talk.

Hongjoong picked up on the idea and spoke loud enough for the whole group to hear, "You know, it's almost the end of the night. Why don't San and y/n go on Ferris wheel together?"

Your head shot up towards Hongjoong, who was smiling towards you. San pressed his lips together as the other members started to chime in, agreeing with the idea.

"That's okay," you tell them, holding your hands up in defense. "The line looks pretty long and we don't have that much time left. Maybe we could find a ride that has shorter lines?"

Seonghwa shook his head and put your hand on your lower back, pushing you towards your boyfriend. "That's why we bought the fast passes, the 7 of us are going to go ride another ride while you two ride this one. We will meet back at the entrance once we're all done. Sound good?"

Before you could protest, the 7 boys rushed away from you leaving the two of you alone. Your eyes flicked up at San, who was peering down at you. You did not want to be alone with him right now. San sighed and started making his way towards the Ferris Wheel, you following close behind. The line wasn't nearly as long as you made it out to be, only a couple of people were ahead of you.

"You think she's cute?" you heard someone say behind you.

You looked up to see who the person was talking about, to find two boys from the other lane staring directly at you. Quickly, you turned around and kept your eyes forward.

"Gorgeous, isn't she?" you hear San say, making you look up as he stands behind you, blocking their view. San huffed and leaned down, pressing a kiss at the top of your head. "As if they'd have a chance to take you from me."

His words made you blush but you stayed quiet, still unsure of where to two of you stood. The line took under 10 minutes before the two of you were in a cart together. Instead of sitting beside him like you'd normally would, you sat on the opposite side of him.

San stared at you, as if he was trying to read your mind. "What's going on, y/n?"

You looked away from the sunset and up at your boyfriend. The shine of the golden sun on his skin making him look even more gorgeous. "I didn't want to upset you with being to clingy, so I've been doing my best not to disturb you. You seemed to be fine spending your day with the boys. I'm sorry for inviting myself on your day off."

The cart came to stop at the top of the ride, giving San an opportunity to move beside you. He took your hand in his and gave the top of it a kiss. "I'm sorry, for being so harsh. I could've said it nicer than as harsh as I did. I guess I just felt embarrassed. Wooyoung had been teasing me about you, saying that you get my full attention and you're glued to my side whenever we're together."

You frown and placed a hand on his cheek, "San if I'm doing too much or making you feel uncomfortable in anyway, I'd prefer if you come to me instead of saying hurtful things."

"But you don't!" San quickly said. "I'm not uncomfortable and you're definitely not doing to much. I love how clingy you are. I love how you constantly hold onto me whether it be my hand or just the sleeve of my shirt. I don't want you change that, in fact do more." You gave out a soft chuckle. "I'm really sorry I let Wooyoung's jokes get to me. I don't even know where that comment about h/e/n came from. I promise you, I was just being an insensitive jerk."

You give him a small smile and pat the top of his head, "well I'm glad you were able to admit your mistake and be honest with me. However, Wooyoung & I are going to need to have a serious talk."

San smiled at you and leaned over, giving you a kiss on the lips. The ride went another time around before two of you got off. Holding hands, the two of you made your way towards the entrance of park. The group of boys were huddled around a bench, waiting for you.

Seonghwa was the first person to notice the two of you. "Looks like everything is back to normal."

Once you two reach the group, Wooyoung gave you both a confused look. "When were you two ever not okay?"

You squinted your eyes at him and let go of San's hand. "Oh, you'd like to know all about that wouldn't you?"

Wooyoung's eyes widen as he turned and started to dash out of the park, you following closely behind. The rest of the group laughed as they started to walk out, watching as you chased Wooyoung' to the car. Wooyoung's shouting echoing from afar.

Mingi:

It had been a week since you last went to take Mingi any food. Hongjoong has been reassuring you that the younger member was eating properly, but he hasn't mentioned you since. You had occasional small talk with your boyfriend, but it wasn't like it was before. There was a tension in the air and it wasn't that hard to figure out why.

Tonight you were preparing yourself to go to meet the boys at dinner for Seonghwa's birthday. Mingi was the one who brought it up but Seonghwa was the one who invited you. You stared at yourself repeatedly in the mirror, debating whether or not going was the best idea. The sound of your phone vibrating on your desk made you tear your eyes away and look over at the screen. Mingi’s name appeared on the screen with hearts next to his name.

“Hello?” you ask after hitting accepting the call and bringing the phone up to your ear.

There was a silence on the other end making you think he called by accident. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you say softly, unsure of what else to say.

Mingi stayed silent before clearing his throat, “uhm, so would you want to ride together to the party?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Although still hurt after everything, you weren’t going to deny that you missed your boyfriend. “Okay, what time?”

“I’m actually at your door right now.”

You blinked and walked out of your bedroom, heading towards your front door. When you opened the door you came face to face with a rather nervous Mingi. You brought the phone down and ended the call, staring at him with a surprised look.

Mingi put his phone in his pocket before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Your eyes widened, Mingi was never the type to initiate contact like this. You were always the one to hold his hand, hug him and, for the most part, even kiss him first. Your arms wrapped around his waist, accepting his warm embrace.

“I’m so sorry for how I treated you,” he says, pulling away slightly and setting his forehead onto yours. “You were just checking up on me and taking care of me. I’ve been so stressed with the comeback, the tour and traveling that I took it out on you. It’s not excuse but I really am sorry. This week has been torture, it’s not like when I'm away for concerts. I don’t want to be apart from you, I don’t want space. I want you, y/n. I want your clinginess. I want your daily texts asking me how I'm doing. I want the lunchboxes you bring me everyday knowing well I forget to eat. I want you, y/n.”

“Shh, I really don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you tell him. You reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, gently rubbing your finger against his skin. “Can we just move on from this and go to the party?”

Mingi moved his head to the crook of your neck. “Screw the party, I can think of other things we can do.”

The feeling of his lips leaving kisses on your neck gave you goosebumps. You let out a soft sigh, “Seonghwa is your member and he wants you there. Plus, who are you to turn away a good party.”

Mingi hummed against your skin and whispered in your ear, “we can be late. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Before you were able to respond Mingi lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He started walking into the apartment, your lips pressed against his as he closed the door behind him with his foot.

Wooyoung:

You stared at the blank canvas that was begging for you to paint on it. You hadn’t even prepared the paint yet because you knew you weren’t going to get anywhere. Your mind was flooded with grey thoughts, none of them giving you inspiration for a new piece. Sighing, you stood up from your stool and walked out of your office.

Ever since your argument with Wooyoung, you had lost all motivation paint. Painting was your way of escaping reality and right now it felt like reality wouldn’t leave you alone. You walked into your living room, heading towards the couch when your front door opened. Startled, you picked up the closest object to you (which so happened to be the remote control) and turned around to fine Wooyoung standing by the door.

Wooyoung looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “do you really think you can fight off a person with the remote?”

You glared at him and crossed your arms over your chest. “What are you doing here?”

Wooyoung slipped off his shoes and stood in front of you. “We need to talk.”

“You couldn’t have called me? Or at least given me a heads up that you were on your way over? Scaring the crap out of me could have been completely avoided,” you told him, expecting him to crack a joke but all he did was stare at you with a blank stare. You stared at him and felt your heart drop for a moment. “You’re breaking up with me.”

Wooyoung swallowed hard and opened his mouth to say something but he stopped himself. You knew that the fight you had was a bad one, especially with how it ended, but you never knew your relationship would end like this.

“I said a lot of things that hurt you the other day and it wasn’t right,” he started, running his fingers through his hair. “I compared you to someone who broke me in so many ways that I didn’t even know were possible. Someone who took every insecurity I had and held it against me. And you…you are nothing like her. You treat me with respect and I feel like a goddamn prince when I'm with you. You’ve made me the happiest person I have ever been.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused by where he was going with this. “So why? Why do we have to end it all? You said it yourself, I make you feel like the happiest person.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he says. You watched him as he sighed and took a seat in your couch. “You deserve a person who will treat you just as great as you treat them. A person who won’t accuse you doing things with other people. A person who could trust without holding anything back. You deserve so much better than me, y/n.”

You could feel the tears build up as you stare down at him. “What if I say no?”

“y/n—“ you cut him off, “I don’t want to be in some perfect relationship. I don’t want some perfect guy who sweeps me off his feet and makes no mistakes. I want to be with you, Wooyoung. I’m in love with you.”

Wooyoung was crying now, tears on his cheeks as he looks at you. “I do nothing but hurt you, y/n. You deserve so much better than me.”

You cupped his face into your hands and brought your lips to his. The kiss was soft and only lasted a minute before you pulled away. “I told you from the beginning that I knew you were going to have a hard time trusting me. But I need you to believe me when I say, there will never be anybody else. Unless you absolutely want me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” he says before you pull him into a hug. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have said those words to you. I got scared and insecure, and I acted without thinking it through.”

You didn’t respond, you just ran your fingers through his hair as he hugged you tightly. Of course this wasn’t going to be your final fight but it was the one that changed a lot in your relationship.

Jongho:

“Ugh, I'm starving!” Yeji groans as your friends make your way into the restaurant.

The place was packed with young college students celebrating the end of the semester. The four of you found a spot in between two couples who both seemed to be unfazed with the capacity. A young waitress comes over and takes your order before she disappears to the back of the restaurant.

“I need a drink,” Sumin says, not wasting any time cracking open a bottle and pouring herself a shot.

“At least we should take one together!” Chaeyoung says, watching as Sumin tosses her back as she downs the shot.

Sumin slams the glass on the table with a satisfied ‘Ah’. She picks up the glass again and starts to fill everyone else’s glasses with the alcohol. “Cheers!”

“To what exactly?” Yeji asks.

“To finally getting y/n to come out with us!” Sumin says.

You roll your eyes playfully and take the shot as the same time as the girls. The alcohol felt bitter against your throat as you swallowed it and set the glass on the table. “Please, you know I’ve been busy with work.”

“Hey, is that Jongho?” Chaeyoung asks, causing the group to turn toward the television.

You followed their heads and saw a picture of Jongho & his ex being photographed together at a restaurant. The gossip reporter was talking about the rumor of the two of them getting back together and being spotted over the past weekend. You swallowed hard and looked away from the TV.

Sumin looked over at you with a concerned look. Out of all your friends, Sumin was the only one who knew about your relationship with Jongho. She knew about the break up too, she insisted on you telling your other friends but you were too embarrassed by falling so hard so fast.

“I heard she’s blackmailing him,” Yeji speaks up, gaining everyone’s attention. “Apparently she found out a he was seeing a girl and she took photos of them. She told him that if he doesn’t get back with her that she’s going to release the photos.”

Chaeyoung nodded, “I heard that too! He ended up breaking up with the girl because he wanted to protect her from the public.”

“The ex sounds insane,” Sumin chimes in dramatically, giving you a look, “I don’t know why anyone would choose her.”

“I-uh…I’ll be right back, and if I'm not. I’ll call you,” you say, quickly getting up and heading out of the restaurant.

“Where are you going?” Chaeyoung called after you.

“She’s going to get her man,” Sumin says loud enough for you to hear.

Once you got outside, you got into a taxi that just dropped a group of girls off and gave them the address to Jongho’s apartment. You quickly paid the fare and rushed inside the building. Instead of taking the elevator, you took the stairs to the third floor and walked up to Jongho’s door. Standing up straight, you caught your breath and knocked on the door.

It didn’t take long before Jongho opened the door, confusion on his face when he spotted you. “y/n? what are you doing here?”

“Is it true?” You asked, not giving him much information. “Did she blackmail you into breaking up with me.”

“H-How did you know about that?”

“People in the industry are talking about it. If it’s true, they know that she’s blackmailing you. They are saying you broke up with me because she was threatening to expose us,” You say quickly, “so is it true? You didn’t actually want to be with her? You don’t still love her?”

Jongho stayed quiet, unsure on if he should confirm or not. But what was the point of denying it if you already knew pretty much everything? “Yes, she’s blackmailing me.”

“Jongho, I don’t care if she releases anything that has to do with us,” you tell him, taking his hands in yours. “And even if she does have anything on us, it’s most likely not much considering we don’t go out much to begin with. Your true fans will support you if you’re dating a person or not. I don’t want us to end what we had because she thinks she can hold something against us. That is…if you want to be with me.”

“Of course i want to be with you, y/n,” he confesses, pulling you into a hug. “I didn’t confess to you on a whim. I confessed to you because I have feelings for you. I should’ve stood up for myself, for us and told her to screw off.”

You pull away and look up at him, “You did what you thought was going to protect me. I’m not going to be upset with you for that. But no matter what she tries to do, I’m not going anywhere.”

Jongho smiled and leaned his forehead against you, “I’ve missed you so much.” You smiled back at him and brought your lips against his.

#ateez reactions #ateez #ateez angst #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop angst #hongjoong #park seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho

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psychedelic-ink · 8 months

Text

𝐒𝐮𝐢 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 6.1k

chapter summary: you and joel take your relationship to the next level.

warnings: themes of grief and loneliness, hurt/comfort, fluff, body painting, joel being a very lousy nude model, oral (male receiving), heavy petting, fingering, shower sex, edging, dirty talking

a/n: aaaaand we're BACK-- the hiatus is officially over and I am so ready to focus on this series. I've missed them so much and I hope you guys all did too 💗 also special thanks to @undercoverpena for cheering me on while I was writing this, love you to the moon and back bby xx

Chapter Eleven || Chapter Thirteen

Loneliness had never been a stranger to you. You had your own brand of it, like a homemade fig preserve. Being so close with it, you’ve added something from yourself, and in return, it has branded your personality in such a way that it has become hard to think there was anything but.

For the longest time that special brand of loneliness had been your closest friend. During adulthood, you noticed how tired you were of asking for people to be emotionally aware of your needs, your wants. You were tired of spelling it out for them. Your parents weren’t like you, neither was Auggie. No one around you was emotional like you were, so you learned to keep it locked tight in your heart. You cried at night. You smiled during the day. You felt off and weird when family members hugged you and wept on your shoulder, you dissociated. You’ve noticed this, especially at your grandfather’s funeral. He was gone and you hadn’t shed a tear among the dark black fabrics.

Auggie knew you did this, but alas, it didn’t really matter.

So when you found a family emotionally rich despite not having much, it came as a mild shock to you. Sarah didn’t have these issues. She didn’t care if she was emotional or not, or if what she said came off as needy. The only emotional constipation you noticed was between brothers, but even that didn’t stop them from addressing what they felt during an argument.

You were no stranger to emotional outbursts. Reading a book and eyes welling before you could finish a sentence.

Now, you feel less lonely thanks to Joel, Tommy, and Sarah, each filling a different gap in your withered soul. But even that doesn’t stop the old habit of sewing your mouth shut.

You wake with a heavy weight on your chest. It’s still dark, the sky a dark shade of royal blue. It’s actually a beautiful night. However, your eyes are blind to it. Your skin is damp with sweat. If you saw a nightmare, you don’t remember what it was. You remember going to bed uncomfortable, Tommy’s sad eyes branded into your lids like tattoos you both want to and don’t want to get rid of.

You gradually rise from the bed, the thin summer quilt sliding off your now cold body. You shudder. It had been a long time since you last felt this way. Empty and lonely. It always feels like you have to suffer through these emotions on your own, your need to smile through it more prominent than anything else.

You smack your lips together, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You need water. Ice cold water.

Going down the stairs you don’t think how dark it is, or how some particular shadows remind you of your childhood when you would wake up thanks to the jarring sound of mosquitos, looking for comfort downstairs where your grandparents were usually up. Fuck, your chest is even heavier now. The muscle in your chest more like a cannonball than heart. You’re hyper-aware of the way your chest rises and falls with every breath and quickly, you make your way to the kitchen.

The light of the fridge momentarily blinds you but despite your burning irises you manage to wrap your fingers around the familiar handle of the old jug. You pour yourself a big glass and take small swallows.

A soft wind caresses the outer skeleton of the house. The shadows of leaves dance over the walls, again, a familiar sight that drags you back and makes you sick simultaneously.

“You a’right there, sweetheart?”

You jump at the sound of a voice deepened with sleep. Tommy is staring at you from the entrance, brows furrowed, the crease between them so much like his brother. Taking another small sip of water, you swallow and place the cold glass on the counter.

“I’m fine,” you grit out, your voice leveled. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

Before you know it, Tommy’s warm hands are on your face, cradling your cheeks. His thumbs move over your cheekbones, pressing and applying pressure over the bone. Your heart skips a beat. It takes you everything not to lean into his touch, to seek out that comfort only he could give. But you think of Joel, you think of him, and you stop yourself. If Tommy knew about you and Joel, if you were completely honest with him—an open book, you would’ve taken that comfort to yourself, not a worry in your heart but he doesn’t know and that alone makes your stomach clench with guilt.

“You don’t look fine,” his hands slide down to your shoulders. “Was it a nightmare?”

You blink heavily, your eyes locked on one another. Two broken people in a dark kitchen. It pains you that a nightmare is Tommy’s first guess. You wonder how many times he’d woken up to the faux scent of gunpowder and screams only to be comforted by the darkness of the ceiling.

“Something like that. I. . sometimes forget that they’re gone,” your eyes drop to his chest. “And then I remember that no matter what, in the end, I’ll be lonely.”

“Lonely?” he spits out the word, shocked, hurt and baffled. “What are you talkin’ about? You have Joel—You have me.”

You know you do. You really do. But after years of going through it all alone, to see your friends have their own support systems and people to protect them, care for them, it’s hard to believe you’ve found your people. It’s hard to believe that years of solitude where you had to take care of yourself was over. Old habits die hard. Your heart shatters piece by piece. Your heart nothing but a heavy weight in your chest. You want to collapse, to scream, shout and cry. Salty tears sting the corner of your eyes. Suddenly you’re drowning in your past like it’s still your present, the thickness of it goes all the way up to your neck and you can’t breathe—

“Hey—hey,” Tommy cups your cheeks, thumbs running down where tears would be but your skin is dry. “Come back to me, it’s a’right. I’ll always be with you, you know? Even if you move far away, I’ll always be a thorn in your ass.”

You crack a smile and manage to nod, placing a hand over his own. You think a tear finally falls, maybe even two. You hate feeling like this. Hate it. Tommy doesn’t look convinced by your expression.

“Do. . .do you want me to call Joel?”

His words freeze you to the bone. Of course, he would ask that—Tommy Miller, always thoughtful, always putting others first. They both do. You even think to some extent Sarah does the same thing. All of them throwing themselves in front of a moving train in different ways.

You don’t know if he’s noticed something. Or if he just thinks that Joel’s presence would be more soothing, since he’s used to relying on his older brother.

Either way, you want him to know that he’s enough.

And he’ll always be enough.

You shake your head, “No,” he furrows his brows when you part your arms. “But I wouldn’t say no to a hug.”

Strong arms sneak under your armpits and broad palms press against your back. Tommy pulls you incredibly close. Holds you indescribably tight. His scent fills your lungs. A bit of sweat mixed with a day-old deodorant. He smells nice. He always had. His skin is warm against your cheek and you smile widely this time but he doesn’t see.

“Thank you, Tommy,” you whisper into the darkness. “I would be lost without you.”

“Are you sure you’re a’right?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“Hundred percent sure?”

“Yes, sir,” you declare, your gaze fixed on Joel as you peer from the side of the canvas for a better look. “Now stand still.”

Joel grumbles something inaudible and straightens his neck, attempting to keep his limbs as still as possible. Your eyes rove across his broad shoulders, the expanse of his chest, you take in the shadows that appear between every sinewy muscle and think about how to convey it into your painting. You still haven’t dared to look further down. Looking down means that you’ll definitely be distracted.

You sketch a couple of lines that vaguely resemble his shape. You’ve missed painting nudes and when you mentioned it to Joel, he was eager to accept without actually realizing he had to stay still for a generous amount of time.

“You should’ve called,” he grumbles. “I would’ve come straight over.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But it was late, and Tommy was there.”

He doesn’t say anything but you can sense his displease.

“He’s my friend, Joel,” you answer, observing the thick contour of his neck. “And your brother.”

“I know that. I just don’t like the idea of not being there for you.”

“Tell him then,” you say a bit harshly. He doesn’t seem affected by your shift in tone. Another line joins the others. “If it was anything serious I would’ve called, hell, I would’ve come to you but it wasn’t that serious. I was just in a. . . mood.”

“Tommy sure don’t think so.”

You don’t say anything and focus on drawing the rest of his torso, he clicks his tongue in frustration, “I hate when you do this, you know.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Do what?”

“Downgrade your problems. It’s okay if you’re still grievin’. It’s okay if there are some things you’re still workin’ out. I just don’t want you to think you’re alone, I can be your rock, sweetheart. I’d be happy to.”

“You are my rock, Joel—and keep still.” He huffs and straightens again, your lips twitching into a smile. “I’ll try to open up more. Promise. I do feel really lucky I have you. And Sarah—and Tommy. Some nights I just wake up feeling bad. Yesterday was just a bit more intense.” Joel grunts in approval and you add. “Also hasn’t Tommy heard of the phrase ‘snitches get stitches’?”

“He wasn’t snitchin’,” he pouts, you want to take his bottom lip between your fingers and kiss him. “I actually asked how he was doin’ but he quickly brushed it off and told me about you instead.”

“Of course, he did.”

He nods but still seems wound up like a toy. His head drops a bit, the click of your tongue reminding him to keep still.

Your eyes trace the contours of Joel’s body. He’s an excellent specimen, everything about him so human, so raw. Every freckle, every crinkle you want to eternalize onto your canvas. He’s not looking at you anymore. Eyes glued to the legs of the easel. You still haven’t fully taken in the sight of him. Sometimes you’re truly afraid of how strongly you feel for him, how much you’d be willing to lay down just to be with him.

Honestly, a pocket of time would be ideal. That way you could spend eternity in this peaceful moment, living in bliss.

You place the pencil down and walk up to him. His gaze is drawn to your once more, “Sorry, sweet tea, did I move again?”

“Maybe a bit,” you lie, standing an inch away from his naked body. You press your thumbs against his cheekbones then slide them down, feeling the roughness of hair tickling your skin. His eyes flutter shut momentarily, before opening again.

You don’t say a word. Time is still around you and you believe if you try hard enough this can be your forever. You trace the outer lines of his lips, then trace the seam. His lips part, a bit of tongue showing in between—you touch that too, shallowly dipping one finger before moving on to his neck, “To draw is to feel,” you muster, the ball of your thumb grazing firmly over his Adam’s apple. “Will you let me feel you?”

“‘Course,” he chokes out. “Whatever you need.”

His words make your chest swell with affection. Joel’s words make you feel brave enough to allow your gaze to venture down. You press the flat of your palms over the swell of his stomach, something trembles within—life, you think, he’s so full of it. Your one hand dares to go lower, playing with the dark curls that lead to his soft cock.

However, he doesn’t remain soft for long, it twitches and grows, the head gaining a reddish hue.

Joel tilts his head, gradually leaning in to claim your lips with his own. He stops when your fingers bite into his bare hips, lodging into that delicate spot between bone and muscle, he swallows thickly, cock raising with attention.

“Stay still,” you whisper. “And maybe I’ll reward you.”

“Oh, we’re playing that game now?” he says with a crooked smile that makes your stomach twist delightfully. You only smile as your hand slides lower and lower, until you cup his semi-hard cock. His breath hitches.

I love you like this, you want to say but remain silent. You stroke him slowly until he’s fully hard, the warm muscle throbbing in your palm, you press your lips against his neck, sucking on his skin until his hips jerk.

“I’m not playing any games,” you mouth into his skin. “If you let me paint you, I’ll let you fuck my mouth. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

Joel thrusts into your hand once more, groaning as you lick the vein that throbs under his skin, “I won’t lie, sweetheart, that might be hard if you keep your hand where it is.” He exhales a shaky breath, the warmth of it fanning your skin. “But sounds fair enough, I’ll try.”

You press a quick kiss to the small patch within his beard and pull away before he can follow the heat of your lips. He’s as still as a statue when you get behind the canvas, but instead of resuming sketching the rough outline of his body, you grab two tubes of paint and a brush; though you have your doubts you’ll be using the tool, you’d much prefer to feel the heat of his skin softening the paint between your fingers.

When you come back to him, confusion crosses his face.

“I thought you were gonna be paintin’?”

Your lips twitch into a sinister smile, “I am.”

As cliche as it might sound, Joel has always reminded you of a deep, rich shade of red—the color of blood—but he also reminds you of an earthy purple, the type of shade that makes you want to bury your fingers in it as if you might actually feel the earth itself.

You shake two tubes of paint in front of his eyes. He’s still confused, yet remains still. You pop the red paint open first, squeezing a generous amount over his shoulder. You watch it trickle down, drops of crimson staining his torso, the color so deep that it looks too real. Your heart jumping, you quickly smear it down his chest and all the way to his stomach. Just like you predicted, the brush is forgotten, slipping from your fingers and onto the carpeted floor. Joel shudders, his breath caught in his throat, you see him clench his jaw.

“Darlin’. . .” he rasps, voice full of gravel, and your hand stops where it follows the V of his lower abdomen.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he answers quickly, breathily. “Don’t ever stop touching me. Don’t ever stop looking at me like that—like I’m the most valuable thing you have. Like I’m worth a damn.”

“You are.”

Slowly, your fingertip traces an invisible path upward, leaving a trail of red paint in its wake. Joel shudders and gulps loudly. You draw meaningless shapes, circle where his tattoo is, and draw shapes of ancient alphabets you vaguely remember from when you read a book about the Late Bronze Age. Joel shudders, twitches, and tenses under your touch but never actually moves, keeping his stance.

After the red pigment is nothing more but a fading shade of pink, you pour some purple paint into your palm and apply it directly. You press your hand directly above his heart, leaving your handprint over it before moving to his back, “Fuck,” he groans.

Looking down, you notice him clenching his buttocks and slightly swaying forward, you smile, his cock must be dripping. You can’t wait to take him in your mouth, for him to use you however he pleases. You need him to be desperate when he takes you, sliding his length down your throat as he berates you for taunting him with sinful touches in the guise of making art.

You press your hands together and smear the remnants of red with the purple, the fresh paint overwhelming the other. When both hands are fully coated, your cup both his ass cheeks, sliding your hands up, you kiss the taut skin between his shoulder blades. You leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses all the way to his neck and lick the sensitive spot behind his earlobe.

“I’d wrap my hand around your cock but I’m afraid the paint isn’t edible so you wouldn’t be able to fuck my mouth,” you tease. “Tell me what you want to do to me, Joel?”

He groans, “Keep this up and you’ll find out, sweetheart. I’m not a patient man, you should know.”

“But isn’t the wait fun?” you challenge, your hands sliding up to his front, right above his pelvis. “The taste of sex on your tongue, the way your cock throbs with the thought of my warm cunt tight around it? Don’t you feel that tingle. . .” you gradually lower yourself, dragging your tongue down his spine, a choked out sound rips from his throat, “going down your spine, reminding you of how good it’s finally going to feel when you push down my throat, cutting my airflow and taking me however you want?”

Joel breathes heavily, his stomach clenching with every whispered word, “Darlin’, please.”

“Turn around.”

You look up as he does, you gently take his hand and place it on your cheek, your heart dissolving into something thick and sweet like honey when his thumb strokes your skin. His gaze grows soft, the arousal in them dimming, splitting away like waves to show the emotion.

“Your knees are gonna hurt,” he says, voice dropping.

He’s right, they are going to hurt. “I don’t care.”

You lower both hands to your lap, obediently parting your lips, sticking your tongue out. Joel wraps a hand around his cock and jerks himself until he’s fully hard, he holds you by the hair and drags you closer.

“You want me to fuck that pretty mouth?”

“Please,” you repeat his own plea from earlier.

The heft of his cock on your tongue almost feels like a blessing from above. Your eyes flutter shut. Joel slides himself torturously slow, inch by inch, as he fills your mouth, your lips stretching wide to accommodate his width. He moves down your throat, awakening your gag reflex, you hold it down, choking around his cock.

“Fuuuuuck, that feels good,” he groans, throwing his head back. With shallow thrusts, he works your throat open. Your one hand slides between your thighs as the other braces against Joel’s thick thigh. Right now, you’re relieved you’re wearing your favorite flannel pajama shorts instead of something uncomfortable like jeans. “That’s it, touch yourself, sweetheart. I want you to come while I’m fuckin’ your throat.” You whine filthily at his words, pressing your fingers between your clothed folds, you stroke your aching clit. Joel doesn’t stop running his mouth. “You must be soaked down there, poor thing.”

Tears sting the corner of your eyes and you manage to slip your fingers down your shorts. His thrusts become rougher, sliding all the way out before fucking himself even deeper into your mouth, down your throat. You swallow helplessly around him and the groan that slips from between his lips forces the clench of your cunt, you breathe heavily through your nose and draw vicious circles around your clit.

“Look at you—you like me fuckin’ your mouth, honey?” You nod, his lips curling in the most devastating way. “You gonna come while rubbing that pretty pussy of yours?”

You nod again, this time accompanied by a moan. The reverberations of the sound trembles against his sensitive cock and he rocks into your mouth harder—this time tears do slip past your fluttering lashes. You can’t breathe, your vision is blurry, yet this is everything you’ve ever wanted. Your heart feels so full, so content. He fucks every thought out of your head, overwhelming your senses.

“Shit, shit, shit—Don’t look like that, sweetheart, don’t cry, if you do I—I’ll—” Spit trickles down the corner of your lips, everything a wet, sopping mess. With every thrust, he manages to go down your throat, his mouth constantly muttering words you can barely hear. More tears flow freely down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva and precome going down your neck. His hips move in a constant stammering motion, balls heavy on your chin as he snaps shallowly into your throat without pulling back.

You look up to him. Your eyes shining and glimmering, Joel meets your gaze, his eyes going wide, hips stilling—

He spills down your throat, hard.

You swallow, swallow, and swallow, gulping everything that he gives. But it’s still not enough, there’s too much, some of it spilling from the sides from where his cock stretches your lips. Your body jerks, your fingers move slowly around your clit and you press harder, your feel the warm slick dripping down your fingers, making a mess of the rug underneath.

“Sorry, sorry—” Joel mutters over and over again almost like a chant. His voice hoarse as his chest raises with quick shallow breaths. He then lets out a deep exhale, his cock throbbing in your mouth as he pulls out. “I wanted to last longer.”

You kiss the tip of his spent cock, “Come here,” you mumble and he quickly drops down, you take his hand, pulling it between your legs. His eyes snap to yours, pupils eating away the color as he presses two fingers into your soaked cunt. Your eyes roll and your hips immediately grind down. “I came too. I came from you fucking my mouth, Joel. That’s how good it felt. You don’t need to apologize.”

“Fuck, you’re really makin’ it hard to stay soft darlin’.” You smile as you cup his flaccid cock, feeling the weight of it in your palm, he hisses. “You’re gonna pay for teasin’ me, neighbor. ‘Should take you on my fuckin’ knee as punishment.”

A fresh gush of wetness spreads around his fingers, “I think I would like that,” you say, kissing his neck. “But now I think I should actually finish sketching you for my painting.”

“I don’t think I have much strength left in my legs,” he says with a chuckle.

“Who said anything about standing?” you stand up, taking him with you. “I’m going to paint something else and for that, I want you on the bed.”

You hadn't realized how much paint you managed to cover yourself in when you were pouring purple and red down Joel's shoulders.

He actually managed quite well when you asked him to lay on the bed instead of standing, and you’re fairly certain he dozed off for a moment or two. You didn’t mind. You loved how the painting had ended up, a sensual silhouette of a working man sleeping with sun cascading down his skin.

“Surprise surprise, pourin’ paint on me got you dirty too,” Joel coos playfully, following you into the dimly lit bathroom. He stuffs your bedsheets into the washing machine, your eyes catch the smear of red and purple paint. “Want us to take a shower beautiful? We still have time until Sarah comes back from school.”

“Someone’s cheerful now that they’ve taken their nap.” Joel holds you by the waist and pulls you close, unlike him, you’re still fully clothed—dirty, but clothed. His cock presses against the swell of your stomach.

“I’m mighty tired of bein’ the only one bearin’ my naked ass,” he tugs off your shirt, the motion so quick that your protest dissolves on your tongue before it can materialize. “Also you owe me a nice back scrub with all those fancy soaps you have.”

“I thought I paid my depth when you came down my throat.”

“I don’t recall sayin’ exactly how much you owed me for this.”

Your lips split into a grin. Without moving away, you bend over and slip out of your shorts, throwing them towards the washing machine. The flickering lustful specks in his eyes make your heart jump, they look like gold. Despite coming down your throat about forty minutes ago, he still wants you. He’s not tired of spending time with you, talking to you, humoring you in your endeavors— he’s not even mildly annoyed, which is something you thought everyone would feel eventually if they spent enough time with you. It was only a matter of when.

You suddenly slap your palms softly against his cheeks, cradling his scruffy cheeks. His eyes rip away from your naked body to meet your gaze. You take in a slow breath. And out. Your heart rams painfully within your chest. Joel’s eyes widen slightly as he takes in your expression, observing you slowly as if he’s tasting what you’re feeling like aged wine. His fingers slither around your wrist and sliver down your forearms.

“Darlin’?”

“I love you, Joel.”

His lips part, not with surprise, but with relief. You’re smiling giddily now, not a feeling of worry in your bones, just happiness, eagerness. You don’t care if it’s too early. Too late. It’s what you feel. And all you feel is love love love.

“I love you too, Tea.”

Joel brings your palm to his lips and kisses the curve of it slowly, he moves up to the middle, his mustache tickling you when he lays another kiss, “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

You close the distance, slanting your lips together, you drink him. His lips move to the beat of the moment, tickling down tenderly and smoothly like molasses. Joel’s tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open up for him. He tastes you quickly before pulling back. He exhales deeply, his breath fanning your swollen lips.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

You grin, raising an eyebrow, “So you can get me dirty again?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he huffs.

Joel leads you to the tub, acting as if you’re his guest and not the other way around. He turns on the shower, allows the water to run down his fingers until the temperature is just right, and then carefully helps you step in. You moan happily at the way warm water moves down your skin, softening your body and chipping away at the paint. Joel stands right behind you. You want to turn around, clean him of the colorful mess, but he doesn’t budge. His hands touch your shoulders, then skims down.

“You first,” he murmurs, fingers washing away the paint. You lean back. His hands follow a trail to your front, kneading your breasts.

“I don’t have any paint there,” you hum.

“My bad, these eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

He gives them another squeeze before going lower and lower. . . until he’s pushing his hand between your pressed tighs. You laugh, “I definitely don’t have any paint there.”

His teeth suddenly sink into your shoulder. The blossoming pain makes you gasp and your body reacts by bending over, rolling your hips towards him. With a soft growl, Joel grips your hips and pushes you up against the glass panel. You moan with your breasts pressing firmly against the glass, the constant shower of water making you slip.

Joel’s lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck you with my fingers,” he rasps. “Want you to come all around them, sweetheart.”

Your body flushes from the inside out, “What if I can’t?”

“You don’t have a choice,” he pushes forward, notching his cock between your folds, you whimper. “If you want me to fuck you with this cock, you better show me how desperate you are for it by makin’ a mess, honey.”

When you don’t answer he grips your neck and forces your head back, he kisses your forehead, “Are you gonna be good for me?”

Your stomach bottoms out, “Y—Yes, I’ll be good.”

He kisses your forehead once more before releasing you. You fall forward with a whimper, bracing your hands against the slippery panels. Joel slides two fingers inside of you with embarrassing ease, “You like it when I’m rough,” he states, thrusting the digits in and out. You nod. “I love you,” he then says, catching you but surprise. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles darkly. “God, you’re gonna make me go insane—I love you—”

You clench again, a loud moan dropping from your lips. The sounds you make are drowned by the water, yet he can hear you crystal clear. Your body reacts viscerally to his words, a flame that won’t ever go out burning wild in your gut—between your legs. He whispered the words into your skin, into your mouth, against your tongue. You push against his fingers, urging him to go deeper. He does. He holds you by the neck while fucking you with thick fingers, you cry out his name, whimpering those three little words that make him go inside just as much as it does to you.

“Come for me,” he grunts. “Come for me so I can fuck you for real.”

“J–Joel, fuck—”

Your back arches, your orgasm rips from you, he takes it. It’s violent, earth shattering.

Your jaw drops as he squeezes your throat lightly, the pressure adding to the intensity. You can vaguely hear him muttering ‘That’s it’ over and over, but you can barely hear the rasp of his voice.

Joel kisses your cheek, drags his lips down your neck, “How’re you feelin’?”

“Good. . . great actually.”

Pulling out his fingers, he pushes them between your lips, you lap at them hungrily. While you’re busy devouring your own taste, Joel buries himself deep in your cunt. You whimper around his fingers, brows furrowing with pleasure. He pulls the digits out and grips your chin. His chest heaves as he pulls almost all the way out before snapping forward again, burying himself into the tight warmth of your pussy.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles, rocking back and forth. With every thrust, your lungs convulse. You desperately grip his forearm, but your fingers slip thanks to the water droplets that surround his skin, him letting out a sudden chuckle before pulling you towards his mouth. “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t think I’m gonna last long now either. You make me feel like a teenager again.”

Throwing your arm back, you tug the damp locks and force your lips together. You lick hungrily into his mouth. Joel moans loudly and you swallow every little sound he makes, your cunt fluttering and clamping around his length. He pounds into you sloppily, no coordination, no calculation—just need.

To be wanted. To be devoured. What a wonderful feeling it was.

Joel pulls out with a grunt, you hear the slick sounds of his fist as he jerks himself over the curve of your spine. You shudder when you feel it. Warm spend trickling down your skin, mixing with the water. He spreads your ass cheeks and pushes them together with his cock between them, he grinds once—twice, before heaving and dropping his head between your shoulder blades.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but you hear no regret behind the apology. It makes you glad.

“Don’t be,” you turn and pick up the shower head, holding it right over his shoulders, you wipe the remaining paint away. Your stomach growls in protest, your lips twitch into a crooked smile. “God, all that worked an appetite. I’m starving.”

“Want me to cook you somethin’?”

Spraying the water over his other shoulder, you meet his gaze. He’s so sweet like this. His hair wet, curling at the ends. His body finally relaxed. You can’t help yourself and quickly press your lips into the corner of his jaw.

“I have a watermelon in the fridge, you can cut that up for me.”

“‘Course, darlin’. Anythin’ for you.”

Crickets chirp loudly. The wind pleasant, yet a bit too warm for your liking. You fan yourself with a hand as you lean back into the chair. Despite just taking a shower, you’re nearly dry. Summer is definitely not a good season for you.

“Should I be offended you look so miserable right now?” Joel asks, sitting next to you. He bites into one of the watermelon slices and when a drop of sweet nectar escapes, he makes quick work of licking himself clean. You swallow, your insides pulsing.

“No,” you sigh. “I just don’t like the heat very much.”

“Well. . that might be a problem considering summer is basically here.”

You groan and throw your head back, “Don’t remind me.”

“Here,” he says, extending you a slice. “Eat.”

You take the slice without objection, biting into the fleshy fruit. The cold juice of the watermelon feels good as it goes down your throat. You look over to the lawn, thanks to the heat most things have dried out.

“I helped him a lot you know,” Joel says, his voice soft, as if afraid to spook you. “With the garden that is. He talked a lot about you.”

“Did he now?” you muse, you chew the watermelon thoughtfully. Your eyes are glued to one of the butterflies in search of a flower. “I miss him.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. I know. I wish I could ease your paint, but truthfully I have no idea how to do that.”

“You do enough,” smiling, you turn to him and find that he’s already looking at you. “The silver lining is that I met you.”

He parts his lips, eyes glossed over with emotion but before he can, both of you hear small steps approaching at the same time.

“Oh, watermelon,” Sarah chirps, throwing her backpack to the floor. “Don’t mind if I do.”

She takes a slice and sits down, eyes flitting between you and Joel. You try not to look at Joel then, your heart beating a bit too loudly for your liking. Sarah raises an eyebrow and locks her eyes with Joel, their expressions are similar when they’re about to wreak havoc.

“What?” Joel snaps, angrily sinking his teeth into his watermelon, finishing it off. Both you and Sarah laugh, your heart feeling a bit lighter now.

“Oh, nothin’,” Sarah rolls her tongue, mimicking her dad. “What have you two been up to?”

“Your dad was helping me with the kitchen sink,” you answer quickly. “It’s been leaking all morning.”

“If my dad is good at anything, it’s fixing stuff.”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Joel grumbles.

“How was school?” you ask.

Sarah’s shoulders fall a bit, but she quickly shakes it off and smiles, “It was good, nothing interesting happened.”

You raise an eyebrow but don’t pry. Joel doesn’t seem to notice Sarah’s mood change. “We should better head off,” he says.

“But I’m still eating,” Sarah whines. “Can’t we stay a bit longer?”

“We don’t wanna overstay our welcome.”

You almost laugh at such an absurd thing. Him, overstaying his welcome? Never. But you also understand why he does it. Sarah is smart and by the looks she was giving you and him, she’s probably already suspicious.

“You guys should take half of it,” you say, standing up. “I’m only one person anyway. If I eat this much watermelon I’ll end up growing one inside of me.”

Both of them look at you deadpanned, you laugh, “You both have no humor!”

Sarah turns to Joel, “Dad, I think you might wanna check if her water is laced with something.”

“I think you’re right, baby girl,” Joel nods seriously. “There’s no other reason she would find that funny.”

“If you guys keep that up I’m not giving you squat.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” they say at the same time.

You shake your head, snorting at the father and daughter duo. Both of them were ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

However, you can’t seem to stop smiling as you head inside to get them a container to put the slices into.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #joel miller smut #stay in bed series #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #scheduled

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talesofesther · 2 years

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dead channels

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie finds dead channels on a walkie-talkie to vent about his feelings and everything he goes through. One day, you happen to stumble upon his frequency.

A/N: I can't remember where I saw a prompt like this, but I knew that I had to write something about it. I think it's important to say that I know very little about how walkie-talkies work. And yes I went way overboard with this story but I truly loved how it turned out; it's a big one, the biggest one shot I've ever written, but I promise, it's worth it.

Word count: 11k

Masterlist

February 7, 1985

You were annoyed, and Dustin would hear about it for giving you a walkie-talkie without telling you what channel you were supposed to be using.

You paced in your living room, switching the frequencies, finding dead channel after dead channel. For ten minutes the only noise coming from the device in your hands was static.

Until you turned the switch one more time, and the static stopped. You clenched your fist in victory, sitting down on your couch and about to voice your frustrations to your younger friend.

"… I hadn't seen him in four years, man."

To your surprise though, someone on the other end of the connection spoke first.

A deep frown etched itself into your face when you heard the muffled voice. It wasn't one you could recognize, clearly not Dustin's. The words were laced with a distant sizzle, maybe because the person talking was too far from your location or the walkie they were using was too beat up. The tone was quiet too as if spoken without the intention of anyone hearing it.

Against your better judgment and with the help of innocent curiosity, you didn't switch channels.

"I don't know what I was expecting. Shit, I shouldn't have been expecting anything. Uncle Wayne was furious when he walked in on us and saw my bloody nose, he chased him off, yelling for him to never come back, not even caring what he needed the money for. I- I wanted to say something too but… Damnit.."

You heard what you assumed was a sniff before the stranger kept on talking.

"Dad did always make it clear that I was his biggest mistake, guess I just wasn't expecting him to come back and throw it at my face after all these years. Again."

The words were a private confession you weren't supposed to hear. There was no answer for the muffled voice. This person was using what he thought was a long-forgotten channel as some sort of diary, maybe. At least that was your first assumption.

You ran a thumb over the grey plastic of the walkie-talkie on your hands, finger hovering above the switch. Your knee bumping up and down. Should you say something? Should you change frequencies and forget this ever happened?

You changed channels, but not before memorizing the frequency.

February 19, 1985

Almost two weeks went by before you heard the lonely voice on the dead channel again. You told yourself it wasn't creepy to set your walkie-talkie to the channel when you weren't using it.

You stood in front of your kitchen counter, cutting up potatoes for your dinner. The chicken was already heating up and you sneaked tiny pieces of it to your dog when your mom wasn't looking.

The walkie rested on the dining table, you liked to keep it close these days. One never knows when the upside-down might decide to pay a visit.

"So uh, Hellfire has a new member."

You nearly cut your own finger when the static buzzed and, right after, the stranger's voice was invading your house. You turned around, carefully, as if the person knew you were listening in.

"His name's Gareth, seems like a cool guy. Honestly, I'm just happy that we now have enough people for a full campaign, I- I have all of it planned out and I think it's gonna be great, the storyline is thrilling…"

Subconsciously, you found yourself smiling. The kitchen was empty, save for your dog wagging his tail, and you were smiling as if someone had just told you the good news you were waiting for.

You didn't know this person, this was the second time you were hearing his voice, yet the almost childlike excitement that laced his tone today filled your chest with similar joy. A stark contrast to the last time you heard him.

Was it too weird to feel like you were starting to know him?

February 20, 1985

It didn't take long for you to hear from him again, not even a full day had gone by.

You had just gotten home. Throwing your car keys on top of your bed and removing your coat. On the horizon and past houses and trees, the sun was starting to lower itself, you looked at the orange rays through your window, stretching your arms.

You were rummaging through your wardrobe in search of pajamas when you heard it.

"I fucking… this school, man… Jaso-… ruined my da-"

The voice was laced with static and fading in and out of connection, the sound muffled by your backpack. You were in the process of removing your shirt as you raced towards your bag, almost tripping over your discarded sneakers.

Pulling open the zipper, you snatched the walkie and adjusted the antenna.

"… been working on that campaign for weeks man, weeks, and that douchebag just… He- he…"

You sat down on the floor of your bedroom, in nothing but your jeans and a bra; the tone of his voice slicing through your heart and making it bleed. Your eyes were unfocused as you loosely held the device, waiting for the lonely voice.

"Ripped it to pieces and threw it in the mud as if it was nothing. It's not fair. Shit, it's not fair, and I- I wanted to fight back y'know? But…"

You heard a sigh, heavy and tired.

"Yeah I froze, it's not like three against one would be much of a fight anyway."

The static came and the voice was gone. You stayed there, the wooden floor starting to become cold under your knees. Your eyebrows pulled slowly into a frown. Does this person study at Hawkins High? It's not like Hawkins had many options regarding school but still, it left you all the more frustrated that you couldn't pinpoint who it was.

Granted, your only normal year in high school was the first, and you didn't remember much about it. After that, Will went missing, and… Your mind had been a bit numb to the normal days ever since, you wouldn't be surprised if this person was a classmate of yours.

Abril 29, 1985

After a couple of months, you genuinely felt as if you knew this person.

It was odd if you so much as stopped to think about it. He opened his heart to what he thought was an abandoned channel, yet you were always there, listening; but never talking back. You knew his voice by memory, yet he didn't even know there was someone on the other end.

Sometimes — most of the time — there was a pang of nagging guilt at the back of your mind. But you'd usually think to yourself; what if, someday, something happens and he needs someone?

Well, you'd most likely be there, and if anything, the thought made you feel a little better about your curiosity.

The lonely boy on the walkie-talkie became your secret. A secret, for the sole reason, that he also became your comfort. These days your house was mostly always empty. You slept with the device resting on your bedside table. If you closed your eyes forcefully enough, you could almost feel as if he was there with you. He became a constant presence in your day, even when he didn't speak, you knew he was there. Knowing there was someone else out there made you feel less alone.

Sometimes, when the sizzled voice coming from the device was too shaky, laced with tears and sorrow; the guilt made itself more present, you wished you had the courage to speak up. To tell him that you were there too, that you could be there for him if he wanted you to, the same way he involuntarily was there for you.

After a long Thursday, you were sleeping, the rain outside had lulled you to an easy slumber tonight. However, when your bedside clock hit 2:08 AM, a distant voice started pulling you away from dreamland.

The sound was distant to your ears at first, waiting for your body to fully wake up. You opened your drowsy eyes with a frown, looking around your bedroom that was still engulfed in darkness, with only the street lamps making the raindrops on your window shine.

And then you heard the familiar voice again, quiet, molding itself into the night.

Maybe it was a bit foolish of you to leave the walkie on during the night, but these days, you couldn't help yourself.

"… and Wayne found a picture of my mom. He says I have her eyes."

He continued, apparently. You pushed yourself up with your elbows, the covers pooling at your waist. You wondered how much of his monologue you had missed.

"I don't…"

The tears staining his voice were pretty noticeable tonight.

"I don't remember her that well anymore, I wish we'd had more time… Shit."

And that was all. Static, and then he was gone again. It was fast, part of you wishing you hadn't slept at all.

July 4, 1985

You took a deep breath in, bracing yourself for the pain. With one hand grabbing onto the bathroom sink, you draped the antiseptic-covered cloth against the wound in your abdomen.

The paramedics at the mall did a good enough job, but some cuts still needed a bit more attention.

It had been one hell of a week and you barely had time to breathe between being trapped in a Russian elevator, finding a Russian base, being drugged and tortured by said Russians, and for the cherry on top, fighting a human flesh-based giant monster.

You were heavily considering a vacation from Hawkins.

Biting into your lip, you carefully closed the bandage over the wound. The white sink of your bathroom was covered in blood, as were the tip of your fingers and parts of your clothes. Tonight, you thanked the heavens for your mother's busy schedule, providing you with an empty house and plenty of time to clean up the mess.

Steve, the ever-sweet boy, offered to stay with you and help with… whatever you might need. You said you were fine, which, was a lie, but he had enough pain of his own to take care of.

You discarded your shirt to the bathroom floor, looking at your exposed skin in the mirror with a grimace. Long sleeves and sunglasses would be your go-to for a while if you wanted to avoid questions. You were popping open the buttons of your jeans when the crackle and static of the walkie-talkie made you jump. The warm voice of the stranger buzzed through right after.

"Starcourt just burst into flames."

You placed a hand over your racing heart, tightly shutting your eyes before reaching out for the walkie that rested against the tub.

"Yeah it's- it's crazy, the new town mall just burned to a crisp, at least that's what the news is saying. But I don't know man, I was making a deal near there when I heard the ambulances, there were so many of them; I mean, they said a lot of people died, so…"

You sat down on the edge of the tub, holding the walkie tightly between your hands as you listened intently.

"But still, I walked up to see what was happening and the place was filled with cops, army even, and well, ambulances. I had never seen something like that. And the weird thing is that there were some people from school there, Harrington for one, I also saw some kids from middle school and… Y/N was there…"

A chill ran up and down your spine when you heard him say your name. This person, the one you've been listening to in what was supposed to be a dead channel, the one who chased away the cold feeling of loneliness; knew you. Your lips hung open in shock, he said your name with such ease. He saw you there, he recognized you from a distance and under the blinking lights of the ambulances. Your chest constricted around your heart, squeezing tightly up towards your throat. You wanted to know him too.

You felt guilty for not being able to pinpoint who he was. Okay, the sound of a voice through a walkie-talkie is not the best or clearest. Still, if he knew you so easily, he definitely went to the same school as you, had the same classes, walked the same hallways.

Raising a hand, you rubbed your eyes and clawed at your hair. Urging yourself to think of someone, anyone.

"She- I saw her, she was sitting by herself in the back of an ambulance and I think she was crying. I'm not sure but, she looked so beat up, and- and hurt and I was walking, I mean, I was going to walk up to her to see if she was okay but a cop didn't let me. Maybe for the best, would just end up scaring her more I guess. To be honest, I don't know why I'm talking about it, I just felt like… Nevermind."

Scare you?

Your unfocused eyes stared ahead for long seconds. The cold from the tiles seeping through your body because of your bare feet.

One person came to your mind.

You hugged yourself, arm closing around your abdomen, feeling the cold, bruised skin underneath.

You thought of soft and unruly brown curls, tattoos, metal band t-shirts, and leather jackets.

You had never talked with him, shared maybe one class, literature; he rarely said anything then too. You passed by each other in the hallways, and you once caught him watching you in the cafeteria, he had been so flustered when it happened that you found it adorable. You then started shooting him small smiles here and there, and he reciprocated with big ones of his own.

Robin told you about him once. The School's Freak, she said people called him.

______

There was no way for you to be completely sure it was him, it's not like you could walk up to him one day and ask about it.

But you did start paying more attention to him, Eddie. It was hard when you only had him in the same class as yours one time, and other than that, only bumping into each other in the hallways didn't leave much room to observe.

You could walk up to him and talk, he seemed sweet. You didn't have all that courage yet though.

So you kept on listening, and your eyes kept on searching for him in the crowds. A few months went by like that, and you grew attached to someone you had never talked to.

December 6, 1985

Cold wind was raging outside and you were glad to have a working heater in your house. No amount of it felt enough though, as you sat on the carpet in front of the lit fireplace.

Your dog lay beside you, as you annoyed yourself by trying to set up the Christmas tree; it was a bit too big for the flower pot you had at home.

Slowly letting go of the branches, you said a quiet "yes" when the tree didn't topple over.

You started with putting on the blinking lights, turning them on to bathe the room in a multitude of colors. And as you rummaged through the trinkets, your ears caught in with the familiar static;

"So, I felt like setting up a Christmas tree this year. It's in the kitchen and it's not big, but it's there. I- I even bought some lights and there were some ornaments tucked away in a box that I found…"

The walkie was resting on top of your couch and you found yourself yet again smiling alone because of the pure happiness that came from your unusual companion.

"Christmas was never a very… happy holiday for me but, maybe this year will be better."

"I hope it is." You caught yourself answering back quietly, for no one to hear.

January 3, 1986

Winters could be pretty harsh on Hawkins. The break was over and it just so happened to be pouring rain on the first day back to school.

The skies were grey, heavy drops of water hitting the pavement as you turned the wheel into the parking lot. Of course, it was packed with cars, no one wanted to walk when it was raining.

You groaned as you pulled up in one of the farthest spots from school. Closing the zipper of your jacket, you grabbed your backpack and a small yellow umbrella you always had in your car.

The little thing didn't do all that much in keeping the rain from reaching you, with help from the wind, the only part of your body you managed to keep dry was your head. With one hand holding the umbrella and the other a strap of your bag, you took quick steps towards the school; walking forward with purpose when actually you should be paying attention to the puddles and many leaves the wind knocked down last night.

Water splashed around your boots, but before you could even get annoyed at that, your foot was slipping on brown leaves; the motion sent you falling back and you could only think of your backpack being submerged in the puddle.

It never happened though. You closed your eyes bracing for the impact, and instead felt two arms around your waist, your back hitting someone's chest instead.

"Woah hey, careful. That would've been a disaster."

You clutched your sorry excuse of an umbrella, slowly standing up and removing yourself from the embrace that caught you. His voice reverberated through your body in the form of a shiver, making your heart pump blood faster. The tight grip you had on the umbrella was mimicked from the one in your lungs. You couldn't breathe, because you knew that voice.

Turning around, you met the chocolate brown eyes you had been secretly wanting to see this up close for months now.

Eddie looked down at you with the ghost of a smile, he wore a black hoodie to protect himself from the rain; still, some droplets of water clung to his hair and eyelashes, shining.

And your silence must have sent him the wrong message because he stuffed his hands in the hoodie's pocket and took a few steps away from you.

He cleared his throat, eyes moving to look at something over your shoulder. "Yeah, sorry. I just didn't want you to fall, didn't mean to overstep or anything."

You internally kicked yourself multiple times for being a weirdo. "No, you didn't overstep, at all. uh- thank you." You breathed, managing a reassuring smile. "Really, you saved me from a massive embarrassment and from being cold all day."

You quickly maneuvered your umbrella to cover both of you, moving to stand beside Eddie. "Come on, let's get out of this rain."

Eddie's cheeks flushed pink at the unusual kindness. He walked side by side with you, bodies close under the yellow umbrella. Butterflies fluttered inside his stomach because he finally talked to the girl who held his heart's affection.

Once inside the school, Eddie headed to his art class whilst you walked to your science one. He waved a shy goodbye at you and that was it.

Even if you tried, you couldn't possibly concentrate on what the teacher was saying or the notes you were supposed to be taking. Eddie Munson was the lonely stranger who had been keeping you company over the last year. Seeing the clear picture now, you were frustrated for not putting two and two together sooner.

You were fidgeting with the pencil on your hands, biting your tongue until you almost tasted blood because now the person who spoke over the static of the walkie was suddenly so real, so tangible. And if anything, knowing it was Eddie only made your heart swell harder for him.

January 23, 1986

Friday nights were your nights, the time you always gave yourself to simply relax. You'd pick up a movie at Family Video, taking the opportunity to hang out with Robin and Steve at their new place of work for a while; then get home and change into your most comfortable pajamas, make some popcorn, and lunge on the couch. Just as you are now.

You lazily stroked your dog's fur, who was passed out beside you. The lights were off and the only thing illuminating your face where the images on the TV.

Last time you checked it was around 8 PM, but after a long week, your eyes slowly started to drop with tiredness. That is until the walkie-talkie inside your backpack started buzzing with the familiar static, and you were suddenly more awake than ever.

You scrambled to grab it, quickly raising the antenna before throwing yourself onto the couch again. You lowered the volume of the TV, waiting.

You heard a pained grunt first and then;

"Jesus man, they got me good today. Ugh shit- I feel like a truck ran me over or something."

Concern etched itself into your face instantly, you grabbed your blanket closer to yourself, praying for some kind of elaboration from Eddie.

Eddie. It still felt so foreign to have a name for the lonely voice now.

"I should- I should be used to it by now but… I just want it to stop. Whatever man, I'll just strap a band-aid to it and sleep it off."

"No, no, no. Don't do that." You mumbled to yourself. You ran a hand through your hair, stomach twisting in anxiousness. Running over every possible scenario in your head, even with most of them Eddie hating you in the end, you decided that you wouldn't leave him alone today.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you were about to do, crossing your fingers for it to not be a mistake.

You pushed the button on the walkie. "You should clean the cut first."

Silence, there was silence for a long time. His voice was smaller when he spoke again, hesitant.

"I- I'm sorry I thought this was a dead channel… No one ever answered, I'm- I didn't mean to.."

"It's okay," you closed your eyes, interrupting him. "It was a dead channel, I think; I just stumbled upon it a while ago — not long, promise — and I heard you, and, I don't know it felt like you could use some company I guess. But then, I- I never really said anything."

You bit your lip, nerves making you tap your knee incessantly. "I sort of just, hung around in case you… I wasn't listening like a creep or something just- I'll switch channels in a minute okay? I just need to know, are you hurt?"

You let go of the button and groaned audibly, facepalming because of your own words.

"A little, yeah."

His quiet voice was a relief, part of you expected him to leave you hanging. You leaned back on your couch. "Okay, uh listen, if it's a cut, you need to clean it up, if you don't have antiseptics just use water. And if it's just a small one, it's best to leave it open, so it can heal on its own."

"You have a lot of experience with this stuff?"

You smiled. "Yeah, you could say that."

Eddie was surprisingly chill about your whole predicament. You walked him through patching himself up. From what he told you it wasn't that bad, just a few punches here and there that would leave him sore for a few days. It still made you feel sick to your stomach though.

Talking with him was easy, the way his voice addressed you made you smile. About an hour had passed when you deemed he was taken care of.

"Hey, I'm sorry for never telling you there was someone else on this channel. It was a shitty move, I just never managed the courage to speak up I guess." You told him before ending the call. "But I promise I'll never switch to it again."

You held the walkie between both your hands, the movie on your TV had long since been over.

"It's okay. Anyone could've found this random frequency, I'm glad it was you. I uh- usually change them, from time to time. But this one was always silent, so I figured I'd stay."

Picking at a loose strand from your blanket, you pressed the button again. "I'm sorry." You mumbled again. "It was never my intention to intrude. Just so you know, I wasn't always listening, to you, I mean… Sometimes it happened but, like I said I thought that maybe one day you might need someone to talk to or something."

Eddie must have heard the worry in your tone because his next words calmed you;

"You don't need to apologize, it's okay. To be honest I don't know why I started doing… this. I guess I just wanted to pretend like someone cared to listen to my whining. It feels- it feels nice to hear a voice answering back for a change. You don't need to leave."

And so you stayed.

______

The routine that you both created was different, to say the least. You didn't realize how much you were dreading having to leave his channel on the walkie until he said you could stay and you felt the weight being lifted from your shoulders.

Now, you were actually talking to each other. You felt like a thirteen-year-old with her first crush each time you heard Eddie's shy voice calling out for you over the walkie-talkie. He was always hesitant, always a bit too quiet in the beginning. But he seemed to enjoy the company just as much as you did.

You saw him at school every day, sharing nothing more than a few 'good mornings' here and there. Maybe he knew it was you who he talked to on the supposedly dead channel. Maybe he suspected it could be you, just like you did in the beginning. Either way, he never asked.

And you didn't either. It was a silent mutual understanding that names didn't need to be exchanged. You knew he felt more comfortable this way, after all, he was sharing his heart out with what he thought was no one before you spoke up.

You let Eddie set the pace, this was his safe space. When he felt ready to talk in person or ask about you, you'd be there.

February 4, 1986

"Come on guys it's no fun if you just stay sitting there," Max complained, before dropping her skate to the ground and making her way to the ramps.

You and Steve sat on a blanket under a big willow tree, one of the few shadows surrounding the skate park. The day was sunny and the place was filled with teens.

"Alright, I think I'll go then." Steve got up, stretching his limbs and picking up the rollerblades. "You coming?" He turned to you.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." You smiled at him. He shot you a smile back before making his way to the cement slopes in the park.

You closed your eyes, breathing in the fresh air of the trees around you.

"Hey, um, you- you there?"

Hearing the sizzled voice coming from the walkie near your backpack, you stretched an arm to grab it; pulling the antenna up and pressing the button. "Hi, yeah, I'm here."

"Cool, is this like, a good time, am I interrupting something?"

You smiled with Eddie's voice, your eyes following Steve's wobbly movements on his rollerblades. You laughed when Max had to rush to him so he wouldn't fall.

"No, it's perfect," You told Eddie.

That was the day you held your first normal conversation with him. He had called just for that, to talk; and your heart just about melted. You told him where you were, told him how a friend of yours was kinda bad at skating and the younger one was a pro. And Eddie told you about going to lunch with his uncle, how the man sometimes was the dad he never had.

March 12, 1986

"And then he just ran over the living room, dragging mud everywhere. God, I was so mad." You giggled, laying down on your bed and holding the walkie over the pillow next to yours.

A soft static came and Eddie's voice followed. You heard his laugh first, making your smile widen.

"I can imagine the mess. But it's so cool that you have a dog, man. I've always wanted a cat, or a dog too."

You turned around, eyes fixed on the pillow beside you, a tiny part of you hoped to see Eddie staring back at you. Outside your window, you caught a glimpse of the evening sun, orange and pink rays announcing its departure for the day. "Yeah, he's good company. Makes me laugh even if I get mad first."

Silence followed after. You closed your eyes, conjuring up an image of Eddie raking his mind over what to say next. It was cheesy. You didn't care.

"You know, I- I've been learning a new song, I play guitar, and I've been learning this new song. It's pretty sick, it's not perfect yet but… Do you- do you wanna hear it?"

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, breathing out a chuckle. Your heartbeat was drumming against your ribcage, happy that he was slowly becoming comfortable enough to share more things with you. "I would love to."

"Okay, here goes…"

You could hear the smile on his words, and as he started strumming the cords on his guitar, you decided that you loved hearing him play.

March 22, 1986

You'd never wanted this to be the way for you to see him again.

After calling a bunch of people and searching up every Rick in town just to find Eddie, then finally getting a hold of him in a secluded house at Lover's Lake and sort of filling him in about what was potentially happening; your friends were now deciding how to continue.

"Are we just gonna leave him here?"

"I mean it's not like we can walk around town with him."

"Then we can, I don't know, stop at a market by morning and bring him some food."

Dustin, Steve, and Robin talked amongst themselves, their faces illuminated by flashlights and the moonlight seeping through the shack's windows. You were leaning against the iron wall in the far corner, gaze trained on the swaying boat but not really focused.

To put it lightly, things went to shit. The upside-down was showing its claws again, but your main concern is that Eddie was being accused of murder.

Slowly, your gaze found him, and the mere sight tore your heart into two. He was slumped down in the opposite corner of the small shack, hugging his knees to his chest and shaking violently; his cheeks had tear tracks on them, no doubt his mind was reliving what he went through.

You wanted to go to him. Hug him close and tell him everything would be okay. But things weren't so simple. Until now, you still hadn't spoken to him in person again. You didn't know where boundaries started or ended.

"Okay, it's settled then." Steve decided. "Hey man, we're gonna bring you something to eat by morning yeah? Until then just… Try and get some rest." He addressed Eddie, who could only look at him.

One by one, your friends exited the fishing shack, walking out into the night, your gaze switched between the door and Eddie's small figure against the wall. You took slow steps to the door but stopped by the threshold.

"Steve," you called for your friend, hand resting on the doorway, "I think I'm gonna stay too, it's not good for him to be alone."

Steve walked back to you with a frown, his sneakers crushing the leaves underneath. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, reaching out a hand to squeeze his. "Yeah it's alright, I don't want him alone."

The look in your eyes didn't leave much room to argue. Steve left with a reassuring smile and the promise of food by morning.

As the car sped off in the distance, you closed the door behind you and turned to Eddie. He hadn't moved, his eyes were clouded with dread.

You took careful steps towards him, wincing at how the old wooden floor screeched beneath your feet. You moved to sit down in front of him, leaning your back on some wooden crates.

"You didn't have to stay." Eddie forced out, with a quiet tone that broke in the middle. His gentle brown eyes were glistening under the fading moonlight.

Gulping down a lump in your throat, you managed a smile. "I wanted to."

Eddie's gaze drifted from yours, the curl on his lips was bittersweet. "It's you, isn't it? Who- who I've been talking to."

You could hear your own heartbeat. "Yeah." You breathed out.

Eddie bounced once in his seat, leaning forward with a real smile. "I knew it!"

His excitement made you chuckle. You thought about how this would happen, you never imagined it this way though. Yet somehow, sitting with him in an old fishing shack in the dead of night while hiding from authorities, felt weirdly right.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything before, I just didn't want to…" You trailed off.

"Mess it up?" Eddie finished for you and you nodded.

He picked at a loose thread on the rip of his jeans. "Yeah, me neither. I mean, I had a feeling, that it was you, I thought your voice was familiar but… I never had the balls to ask."

Eddie looked up at you then, pupils blown as he took you in. You, the person who became his safe space. The one who could take his breath away with just a simple 'hello'.

Since the first time you shot him a dazzling smile at school his heart had been entranced with you. People rarely spared him the time of day, yet you graced him with a genuine smile every day. And Eddie wholeheartedly meant it the day he said he was glad it was you who found his channel on the walkie.

Back then he didn't know how much he was hurting, aching for someone that would care about him, about listening to him. And that day, when your voice came through the once dead channel, his lungs took a deep breath of fresh air after weeks, months of drowning in murky waters, alone.

Eddie counted the minutes to your conversations each day, it was the best part of his day, the one he looked forward to the most. Talking with you was easy, he became addicted fast, and fell even faster.

You decided that it wouldn't be a problem for you both to sleep inside Rick's house, it's not like anyone would come looking, and sleeping on hard wood or inside a boat was less than ideal.

The house was a mess inside, looking like it had been abandoned for some time. Dust covered the surfaces, most things being out of place and haphazardly thrown around. You searched around for rooms with Eddie close behind you.

There were two bedrooms, you stood in the hallway between both doors. "I can take this one and you take the other?" You pointed to one of the rooms.

Eddie nodded hesitantly, he was fidgeting with his rings, uneasy. You could tell something was bothering him, and you had a feeling about what it was. "Or, we could just take the same room."

"Yeah," Eddie let out a relieved sigh instantly, "please." He was dreading the feeling of being alone. Even if you were in the other room, it was too far.

You both removed shoes and unnecessary layers of clothing, laying down on the bed with a reasonable distance between you. The bed smelled… old, like it hasn't been used in some time, but it looked clean.

Eddie was as stiff as a rock beside you, even not touching him you could feel it. You turned to him, adjusting the covers over you. "Try to relax Eddie, you need to rest."

He breathed out, lower lip wobbling with the motion before he turned to you as well. Eddie clutched the covers closer to his chest, a cheap attempt at seeking some kind of comfort. "You know I didn't do it, right?" He tentatively raised his gaze to yours after he spoke, barely being able to make out your face in the darkness of the room.

You frowned, for a split second wondering what he was talking about until the worry in his voice caught up to you. "Of course I do. Eddie, I- I know you, and I know you would never hurt anyone. It's just not who you are. You're good." In a bold move, you reached out and took his hand in yours, squeezing and running your thumb over his knuckles.

Eddie felt his whole body filling with goosebumps at your touch, air getting stuck on his throat as he savored the feeling. He scooted closer to you, only a little, and didn't let go of your hand through the whole night.

March 24, 1986

After Max figured out she was most likely next on Vecna's list, you had to leave Eddie's side to help your friends.

Steve's car was waiting on the side of the road for you to get in, a breeze was flowing through the grey sky, rustling green and brown leaves.

You put on your jacket and prepared to leave Eddie's hiding place, walking to the front door of the neglected house, with Eddie right behind you. You turned to him before you walked outside. "Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?"

Eddie stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around the house. "Yeah, I don't think anyone will come looking here. Plus, your friends need you."

"You're my friend too." You told him quietly, tilting your head as your eyes remained on him.

Gentle brown eyes found yours, Eddie pursed his lips before taking half a step towards you. He was about to reach out for you but hesitated, clearing his throat awkwardly before lifting a hand to the back of his neck and extending the other for you to shake.

His attempt at pretending he wasn't about to give you a hug made you giggle. You closed the gap between you with a smile, pulling Eddie to you and holding on tightly.

His arms went instantly around your waist and he lowered his head against your shoulder. "Be safe, yeah?"

After being separated from Eddie; Nancy, Robin and you took a trip to Pennhurst, managing to speak with Victor Creel just in time to save Max's life.

March 25, 1986

Between saving Max and finding Victor's abandoned house, only now do you and your friends have time to check up on Eddie.

Your knee was bouncing incessantly the whole car ride there, your stomach was twisting with a weird bad feeling like something wasn't right. And sure enough, when you finally arrived at Rick's old house, it was surrounded by cops, nosy civilians, and the town's reporters. Yellow tapes blocked the access to the area and you just about felt your heart dropping to your ass at the sight; surely going a few shades paler at the thought of anyone finding Eddie.

Luckily, he seemed to have gotten away. Your fists balled in anger when you heard the chief of police making Eddie's name public as the prime suspect of the damned murders.

"Dustin? Can you hear me? Y/N?"

You had never been so relieved to hear Eddie's voice through the familiar crackle and static of the walkie-talkie. Before Dustin could even think of answering, you were already snatching the walkie from his backpack and taking a few steps away from the crowd to answer.

"Eddie? Thank god, you almost gave me a heart attack, are you okay?"

From the other end of the frequency, crouching under a massive rock in the middle of the woods, Eddie dropped his forehead against the walkie held between his shaky hands; a single tear escaping his eye.

"Not really, sweetheart. But shit, it's so good to hear your voice through this thing again, you have no idea."

You smiled, tension leaving your body in waves for the very same reason. "Where are you? I'll come find you."

"Skull rock, you know it?"

"I know where it is," Steve told you, all of you already making a beeline for the car.

The woods you were walking through to find Skull rock were dense, everywhere you looked sort of seemed to be the same place and you could only pray that Steve and Dustin knew where they were headed.

All you could think about was finding Eddie, making sure he was okay, and then never leaving his side again. Leaves and branches crushed beneath your sneakers, Robin and Nancy spoke softly behind you, their voices mixing with the birds singing around the forest. Despite the situation, you found yourself smiling because of the unlikely bond you had formed with the long-haired boy.

Steve squeezed his way past dense bushes with a huge grin, revealing the giant rock. "There she is Henderson, Skull rock. In your face man." He said happily, apparently winning whatever discussion he'd been having with Dustin.

"Doesn't make sense," Dustin said beside you, making you turn your head to him with a soft frown.

"Yeah, even with it staring you right in the face, you can't admit it. You just can't admit that you're wrong, you little butthead." Steve shrugged, lightly mocking the teen.

A loud thud came from behind you, then. Making you jump on the spot and quickly whip your head around.

"I concur, you Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead." Eddie took a deep breath in, hands resting on his hips.

Your lips turned up with a relieved smile, you didn't waste a second before walking the remaining steps towards him. You pulled Eddie to you with a stronger grip than before, closing your eyes to just feel him, there and safe.

"I was so worried, thought they got you." You mumbled against him.

Eddie held you back with the same intensity, one hand running up your spine and to your shoulder blades. "Yeah me too, sweetheart." He squeezed a little tighter, basking in the feeling of comfort only you can give him.

______

You could safely say that being in the upside-down was not on your bucket list. Yet here you were, swinging oars at cursed bats that decided to feast on Steve's torso. The sight was nightmarish, it was your Hawkins, only much darker, with a never-ending red storm in the sky, dust particles that made it hard to breathe, and gross vines crawling everywhere.

And only after — sort of — winning the fight against the bats and losing the creatures with help of the forest; that you finally felt the nagging pain in your leg.

You were walking beside Eddie, who was still freaked out. Steve, Nancy, and Robin just a step ahead amidst the looming trees. It started with just a distant pain that had you limping, then you felt wetness running down your ankle and soon enough you were light-headed, some trees doubling themselves in your vision.

You didn't register you were falling until Eddie was scrambling to catch you.

"Y/N? Shit, don't do this to me. What happened?" He was already on edge and right now it'd be safe to say he was on the verge of panic. He had both arms under yours, maneuvering you to sit on the ground with your back against his chest.

His voice alerted the others, who came running back.

Nancy crouched in front of you, concern evident on her face as she checked for injuries. "I think she was bitten on her leg."

She lifted your jeans slowly, causing you to groan with the sharp pain shooting up and down your leg. You could feel Eddie squeezing your hand, his chin coming down to rest on your shoulder as you heard his soft voice telling you you'd be okay.

Using Eddie's bandana, Nancy managed a tourniquet around your leg. The bleeding ceased to a minimum, and you allowed yourselves at least five minutes to breathe given that you and Steve had been hurt pretty badly.

Eddie rested his back against a nearby tree, and even if you asked, you didn't think he'd let you go. So you remained in his arms, comfortably resting back onto his warm chest.

He had his arms wound around your abdomen, grip never wavering. You brought a hand over his, brushing over his knuckles.

You felt him tense momentarily behind you, then he started lazily playing with your fingers. "Getting back at me for making you worry earlier?"

A chuckle escaped you, leaning your head back on his shoulder. "Something like that, yeah."

Several heartbeats passed before you felt Eddie turning his head, his lips grazed your hairline. "I can't lose you, man. I just- can't."

His voice came out quiet and broken, if you weren't literally feeling his breath against your ear, you wouldn't have heard. Goosebumps filled your body, you grasped his hand in yours.

"You won't." You promised.

March 26, 1986

It was almost bittersweet, the momentary peacefulness of the green fields, when you knew what you would be heading into soon. The place was gorgeous, a hidden treasure maybe. The blue of the sky contrasts with the endless grass plains, with numerous trees surrounding the clearing.

You sat by the trailer Eddie and Steve stole, preparing molotovs with Robin. You opened one of the bottles, pushed the cloth inside, and heard a familiar laugh in the distance; looking up, you saw Eddie wrestling with Dustin, both boys running around on the green field with smiles on their faces.

"How's your leg?"

Robin's voice from beside you made you aware of your own smile. You tried to hide it, focusing back on your task, but not before stealing a last glance towards Eddie. "It's better. Bothering a little but nothing I can't handle."

When Robin didn't answer, you glanced up to meet her eyes. She had a shit-eating grin on her face, making you raise an unimpressed eyebrow.

"You two are adorable, y'know?" Robin mused, smile persistent as she put another finished molotov to the side.

"We're friends, Robin." You grumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Oh yeah, you totally are."

From far away, Eddie swung his newly made shield around, with an excited bounce on his feet. "Hit me, Henderson."

Dustin jabbed the makeshift spear into Eddie's shield, both of them smiling when both weapons held up well.

Twirling the spear in his hands, Dustin rolled his eyes when he noticed Eddie sneaking a glance towards the stolen trailer for the thousandth time. "When were you going to tell me about her anyway?"

Eddie's head snapped towards Dustin, and he straightened in his stance, both hands holding the shield to his chest. "What are you talking about, man?"

Dustin spread his arms and pointedly raised his eyebrows as if to say 'seriously?'; "you and Y/N obviously, when did that happen and why am I always the last one to know?"

"There's nothing to know and nothing to tell, alright? We're just friends." Eddie told him nervously, pushing away strands of hair that the wind had brought to his eyes. "She deserves much better anyway." He grumbled to himself.

The incredulous look on Dustin's face would have been comical if he hadn't all but shouted his next words; "spare me, dude, everyone can see it, you like each-"

"Jesus christ, shut it Henderson." Eddie sprinted towards him, shield pointed at the boy who had no other option than to stop talking and defend himself.

______

The moment you crossed the portal back to your Hawkins, and Eddie hesitated, you could swear you felt your heart freezing in your chest. Before he even cut the rope, you were already begging him not to do it.

The makeshift rope fell on your hands and he might as well have plunged the spear right into your heart. Eddie was looking up at you from the upside-down and your throat was already closing with dread, you were screaming at him, words you couldn't even remember. When he walked away from the portal with the promise to come back, for the first time, you didn't believe him.

Everything had happened in a haze, you told Dustin to not dare move as you managed a way up and back through the portal. The wounds on your leg were stinging with each of your movements, more so as you hit the ground on the cursed side of Hawkins.

Your pain hadn't been a concern then, the sole thing on your mind was to find Eddie. You had thrown open the trailer door and ran out into the upside-down world as fast as your legs could carry you, not stopping once, sneakers thudding against the grey ground.

When you saw the swarm of bats circling only one spot, in a hurricane-like manner, hundreds of them going from the ground and up to the sky; you knew Eddie was there, in the eye of the storm. With no regard for your own safety, air stuck in your lungs in a mix of fear and adrenaline, you ran to him.

You could remember the particles in the atmosphere clouding your throat, the blood flowing down your leg.

You had found him there then, tears collecting on the bottom lid of your eyes. You didn't stop though. Eddie was on the ground, with the tail of one of the bats around his neck and a few others trying to claw at his abdomen.

What lasted about five seconds felt like an eternity. You had spotted Eddie's spear, grasping it tightly in your hands and slicing the bat's tail clean off its body, aiming for the ones attacking Eddie next.

When Eddie stumbled up beside you, wobbly on his feet but still standing, shield in his hands; you had already felt a faint relief.

Not even a minute after, all the bats surrounding you were falling from the sky as some sick resemblance of rain. Dead. You thanked whoever did it. Dropping down to your knees — to catch the first real huff of breath ever since the rope had fallen heavily in your hands — you looked Eddie over, who had also been breathing heavily beside you. He was hurt, yes; a few bites and scratches here and there, but he was okay. No air seemed to be enough for you though, almost like the beginnings of a panic attack that you tried to chase away.

Eddie had extended a hand to you, you had seen the worry in his eyes that no doubt were mimicking yours.

And that had been the last look you gave him. You had pushed his hand away weakly, standing up on your own, with legs that almost didn't have enough strength to carry you. Your chest was going up and down with difficulty. You had dropped the spear to the ground with a thud, slowly limping back to the portal on the trailer. Eddie followed, you didn't look at him.

Now — after Steve, Nancy and Robin had found their way back through the portal as well, and you all but collapsed into Steve's arms because your body had simply given up — you sat on the couch at the back of the stolen trailer. Steve was driving, telling everyone all about the fight with Vecna, Nancy sat on the passenger's seat and Robin sat with Dustin near the front, along with Max, Lucas, and Erica after you picked them up.

And Eddie, given his home still sported a portal — a slowly retreating one, but it was still there — sat beside you. You put a distance between you both though, pressing yourself against the end of the couch and looking out the window.

You could feel the way his eyes hardly left you, most likely wondering why you were so quiet. Thing is, you couldn't bring yourself to look at Eddie, or talk to him. Anger was bubbling inside you because of what he did, because of how reckless his actions were. You knew the raw fear was lingering too, however.

"Hey guys, where should I drop you off?" Steve looked at you through the rearview mirror.

"I'll go to uh-" Eddie started, but you spoke over him.

"My house, he's coming with me."

"Yeah that- that's exactly what I was going to say." Eddie agreed quickly, his hands incessantly fidgeting with the hem of his green vest.

Your house arrived quickly, you said goodbye to your friends with a tight hug to each of them, making them promise to take care of themselves whilst they made you do the same.

The night was cold as you slowly limped your way up the stone path that lead to your front door. The lights on the house were turned off, you weren't surprised. It was late, you didn't know how late but the whole town seemed to be asleep already, unaware of the evil that had once again been defeated just minutes ago.

Eddie walked close behind you, one hand lingering against his stomach as the other stayed ready to catch you if you stumbled.

You hadn't bothered to lock your front door and for once you were happy about it, your guard dog came running to greet you, making a beeline for the stranger behind you.

"Hello to you too." You grumbled to your dog and turned on the lights in the living room.

"Oh, it's your dog, hey dude." Despite his wounds, Eddie was happy to crouch down and shower your dog with pats. Huge smile on his face as he bit his lower lip, fingers disappearing amongst the fur.

From your place in the hallway, you stole a glance at them. Instantly, tears were prickling at the back of your eyes.

Shaking your head, you walked to your bathroom. Turning on the lights, you winced at how the white tiles reflected the brightness. Bracing yourself on the sink counter, you met your own eyes in the mirror. To say you look awful would be a massive understatement. You had a rather big cut on your cheek that you didn't even know was there before now, droplets of blood and dust covered a good part of your skin, your hair all over the place, and not even counting how your whole body was complaining in pain.

You definitely needed a vacation.

Eddie slowly appeared behind you, brown eyes finally being able to find yours through the mirror. You saw how his hand reached out for you, and how he pulled it back before he could touch you.

"Are you- are you okay?"

And his voice was so gentle, so soft that you wanted to grab him and not let go, ever. You closed your eyes, lowering your head with a sigh and gripping the edge of the sink until your knuckles turned white.

Eddie shuffled, now standing beside you. He was confused, worried. His body was screaming at him to just hold you, but now, he was afraid of overstepping. "Are we just… not gonna talk?"

"Just sit down." You told him, voice steady.

He nodded, gulping down his feelings as he sat on the edge of the tub and you grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink.

You opened the small box, rummaging through mainly for antiseptics and bandages. You silently motioned for him to take off his shirt.

Eddie tried to do it on his own, but when the movement of raising up his arms elicited more than one pained grunt from him, you stepped in, carefully lifting his shirt above his head.

Seeing the gashes on his skin got your breath stuck in a massive lump in your throat. It wasn't too bad, but there was still blood and he was still hurt. In the back of your mind, you thought about the first time you answered him on the walkie.

"We can count this as progress right?" Eddie tried, a tender smile gracing his lips, his eyes looking up at you with blown pupils. "Last time you were giving me instructions, now you get to do it yourself." Apparently, he remembered it too.

His words made the tiniest smile come to you, which made his only get bigger.

You treated Eddie's wounds with the utmost care. Cleaning them up the best you could and closing the bigger gaps with white bandages that would soon be painted a slight red.

You didn't notice the unsteadiness of your hands, how they shook over his wounds; or the permanent frown on your eyebrows, or the lone tear that escaped your eye and slid down your cheek when Eddie hissed when you touched a particularly sensitive spot on his skin.

Eddie noticed.

Leaving the small cut on his jaw for last, you crouched in front of him, biting the inside of your cheek and raising a hand to clean his face.

Eddie's gaze was heavy, dark eyes fixated on you. You could see the turmoil going on inside his head.

He winced slightly when the wet cloth made contact with his skin, you mumbled an apology. Being so concentrated on what you were doing, you jumped a little when you felt his fingers gently grazing your cheek, over the dried tear track.

A shaky exhale passed through your nose, you met his eyes and saw they were glistening under the bathroom lights; swimming in the feelings he kept guarded inside his chest.

"Talk to me sweetheart, what's wrong?" Eddie asked tentatively, dry lips hanging open, waiting for an answer that never came. "Please." He tried again, quieter.

As much as you might want to, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You let your hand fall to your lap, avoiding his eyes, you were basically sitting on the floor now.

Eddie pushed a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes roamed your face for a minute and then he was standing up and left the bathroom.

You frowned, but didn't follow after him. You heard as he walked back, your back was still turned to the door and you focused on the sound of his movements.

Eddie sat down against the wall to your right, hissing sharply at the cold tiles, his knees tucked close to his chest. Wordlessly, he reached out and gently dropped the walkie-talkie on your lap, before hugging his knees with one hand, the other holding onto his own walkie.

The grey device on your hands was nothing but a blur through your tears.

You heard the familiar crackle and static. You almost broke down then and there.

"I know you don't wanna talk right now, at least not with me. I just hope you know that I'm here, and I'm- I'm gonna be here whenever you feel ready."

You heard his voice, both from the walkie and from right beside you.

"And… I also hope you know that you're like, the most important person in my life, I think you don't even know how much you've helped me. You're the one thing that takes my mind off of all the bullshit this town has thrown at me… Shit, you make me happy, and maybe you're much more than anything I'd ever deserve; but I'm here for you too, so if you could just- just give me a sign that you're okay, I'll give you peace, or space, or whatever you need. I just need to know if you're okay, please."

Eddie finished, voice growing quieter by the end. He let go of the button on his walkie, making the device sizzle with static.

The tears in your eyes were on the brink of spilling over, chest impossibly tighter. You chanced a glance to the side, to him.

Some tears clung to Eddie's eyelashes, and a few others made their way down, collecting on the end of his chin or stopping at the corner of his lips. His eyes were pleading, burning a hole through your soul.

Running your tongue over your lips, you carefully raised the walkie to your lips. You pressed the button, hesitating only a split second.

"I'm okay, as… okay as one can be after that, but…" You started slowly, each word following a beat of your heart. "Damn it, Eddie, I thought I lost you."

Throwing away the walkie-talkie, you turned your body to him. "Do you have any idea, of the panic I felt when you cut that damn rope? What were you even thinking?"

Eddie put down his own walkie, opening his mouth to answer. You didn't let him;

"It was so- reckless." You uttered out shakily, running a hand through your hair, brows scrunched in anger. "I mean you- you could have fucking died for those damn things if I hadn't gotten there in time, and for what? A little extra time?"

You didn't register you were crying, you didn't register the sobs; and when Eddie reached a hand out for you, you slapped it away. "You don't get to tell me to be careful, or- or say that you can't lose me when you do stuff like that. This goes both ways for fucks sake." Your tone was louder, wobbly, mixed with sobs and tears as you groaned in frustration and hastily wiped your cheeks.

You only noticed that Eddie had successfully managed to grab you when you were pressed against his warm chest. Your head tucked against his neck as both his arms closed around you tightly. Both your legs became a mess of tangled limbs, Eddie lowered his lips to the crown of your head, squeezing you to him and mumbling countless "I'm sorry" and "I'm here" and "it's okay".

His skin was warm under your hands. Your ear, resting just above his heart, allowed you to hear the constant thudding; the reassuring sound slowly but surely calming your trembling body and ragged breathing.

"I never wanted to hurt you. Promise." Eddie spoke against your skin, fingers tracing lazy patterns over your body. "I- when I saw the bats, breaking through the door, all I cared about was keeping you safe. I knew I had to draw them away from you and Dustin. Maybe it was selfish but, I couldn't risk them getting through that thing to reach you."

Shaking your head, you pulled away only enough to look at him. Finally being able to take him in, he was just as much of a mess as you were. The sight made you chuckle.

Eddie felt his heart bursting with warmth at the sound of your laugh, a small smile coming to him as well.

You reached up, thumb carefully tracing the outline of his lower lip, engraving the image of him to your heart forever. He leaned towards your touch. You almost kissed him.

"Just, please promise me you won't do anything this reckless ever again."

Eddie hummed, his hands around your waist tentatively pulling you towards him. "For you, I'd do it again in a heartbeat." His words held a playful tone, accompanied by a cheeky grin. They also held the truth.

"And I'd go after you in a heartbeat." You raised an eyebrow at him, your hand burying in his hair.

"Good, then we got each other's backs on our reckless decisions," Eddie mumbled, his breath ghosting over your lips.

He glanced down to your lips with a silent question, a plea. You answered by closing the gap between you, both hands cradling the back of his head and pulling him to you desperately, urging for closeness.

Here, with your body flush to Eddie's, his lips mapping yours in a motion of love; you couldn't be happier for having stumbled upon him on that dead channel.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this story. It was one that took weeks of writing, rewriting, and editing, so feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated so I can keep bringing you these stories. <3

Eddie’s taglist: @alicefallsintotherabbithole @boooil @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @daph-505 @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @hehehehannahthings @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt @oeuryale @mcueveryday @palah @witchbinchstories

@call-me-magpie @loveshineslikethesky @luvmybbies @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove @hallothankmas @ribyourtoplip @sweetpeapod @harringt8ns @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @fangirling-4-ever @electric-cabaret @ollyoxenfrees @linkpk88 @twinkofmydreams @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @xceafh

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #strangerthingsedit #stranger things #eddie munson x you #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddiemunsonedit #joseph quinn #stranger things x reader #st #my story

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moonlightazriel · 2 months

Text

Chapter 3: Adjusting /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N recieves a invitation she just can't say no to.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Angst and fighting.

Notes: I've been writing this fic nonstop, help.

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

Claws dug in the skin of her thighs, so deep that blood soaked the dark riding leathers, broken sobs left her lips and the tears burned her eyes. Breath in and breathe out. She tried to force herself into this routine, but each breath of air that invaded her lungs felt like glass shards cutting her insides.

Her guts twisted, forcing nothing to come out, as the content of her stomach had already been discharged in the toilet, a few inches away from where she kneeled to the floor. She kept weeping, alone, on the cold tiles. Mourning for all that was taken from her once again.

Alone, that’s what she truly was. Did the Mother deemed her so unworthy that once again she found herself lonely and numb inside? She was finally getting her shit back together, finally starting to see the world in a better light, and for what? To be left alone in an unknown place, to never come back to the life she was building.

Each sob was more desperate than the other, more hysterical, louder. She felt pathetic, she wasn’t raised to be like that, but her foolish heart insisted on feeling too much again, letting those emotions consume her would be her downfall. Her whole body shakes with her sorrow, making it hard to stand again.

She forced herself up, hands gripping hard against the wall, each step towards the bathroom were hard to make, but she forced herself, gritting her teeth and mentally screaming at herself, begging for her to be stronger, stop with this damn show. She just didn’t feel pathetic, she was pathetic. What would the witches say if they saw her right now?

She stopped by the bathroom door, taking some deep breaths, trying to control the constant river of tears that made her vision blurry. In a harsh motion, she wiped her tears, clearing her eyes to see the mess she had made.

Glass scattered around the room, from the broken mirror on the left side of the wall. The blankets were messy, ripped in different places and broken pieces of both decoration and furniture littered the floors. From the anger outburst she had after she was left alone.

She wasted all her anger and now all that was left was the emptiness, that numbing void that threatened to consume her whole. The same void she was stuck into for months after the war, after she lost her family.

She would apologise for the damages later, but for now all she could do was drag herself to the bed, falling there with her eyes closed. Silent tears kept falling down the sides of her face, she just lay there, waiting for the sleep that would wrap her in its safe confinement.

But everything felt wrong, the sheets felt wrong, the walls felt wrong, the only thing that indeed felt right in that moment, was the faint smell of night-chilled mist and cedar that consumed her senses and pulled her into a dreamless sleep.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Sunlight peeked through the window, forcing her to wake up. She blinked a couple of times, using her palm to shield the light and give her time to adjust. She jumped in bed, grabbing the discarded sword at her side.

Swinging it around, she looked in confusion at the pristine state the room was, the same way it was when she first went there. It was like last night was some sort of twisted dream, if not for the pounding headache, she wouldn’t even remember what had happened there.

By the side of the bed she found a bottle, a potion as she read the information across the bottle. She downed everything quickly, feeling the instant relief the potion brought, just like Yrene’s one did to her, the healer would constantly send medications and potions to the Witch Kingdom and other territories as the agreement demanded.

The Great Agreement was a peace treaty signed by all the rulers in Erilea and other continents, to provide aid however they could. To rebuild a new world together, not letting our problems separate us anymore. The idea was brilliant but having to help deliver all those things to different parts of the world was sometimes very boring.

Her alliance was scheduled to get more medications from Torre Cesme next month, delivered in Adarlan and some in Perranth. She wondered if they would have someone taking her place now, if she was as easily replaced as a missing piece of paper.

Brushing that thought aside, she walked to the bathroom, a bath was waiting for her, a new toothbrush and some other personal things were also there. She brushed her teeth, then splayed some cold water on her face to wake herself up.

She removed her clothes, sinking in the warm water, letting her head submerge until she couldn’t breathe anymore. As she raised her head, her clothes were gone. Maybe they had the Little Folk here as well. Mother knows how much she loved the tiny creatures whenever she had to stay in the woods, always bringing her flowers and little statues. They were so kind to her, maybe they were here too.

She wrapped herself in a towel, stalking towards the big wardrobe in the corner of the room. It was filled to the brim with clothes in various dark shades.She chose a pair of dark red underwear, ignoring the marks on her back in the mirror. Some scars littered her body, but the ones on her back were the worst ones, worse than the one on her face.

She found a pair of dark pants, the fabric glued to her frame, easy to move in it. She adjusted her boots over the pants, opting for a short sleeved grey shirt and a black corset tied in her back, making her breasts spill from the cleavage the shirt had. She looked good, she finished by strapping her sword and cloak behind her back and brushing her hair.

She took a deep breath, looking at herself once more in the mirror before she left the room, her stomach growling loudly, but she wanted to find Meraxes before anything else. So she opened the door, ready to find her wyvern.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel felt her before he saw her, his shadows running away from their leash to welcome the female at the dining room. She looked down, her eyes glued to the shadows dancing around her feet, like they were happy to see her. With a finger pointed to them, she watched as a bold strand of mist circled her finger and danced around it, she smiled at them, making Azriel’ blush.

Cassian and Nesta were there watching the exchange with curiosity. Elain had just arrived too, and by the looks on her face as she eyed the new guest up and down, he could tell she wasn’t happy. Despite Rhysand’s warning, they still wanted to try, see if the Mother really made a mistake in mating her to Lucien, but something never felt right for him, and even more now as Cassian urged Y/N to join them. The female’s blue eyes scanned the room, and she tried to smile at them, waving her hand slowly.

“Come have breakfast with us.” Cassian said, Rhys had begged them to be friendly with her, to not cause any more trouble, as they didn’t know what her and her pet were able to do.

“Thank you, but I need to check on Meraxes.” She really needed to see him, he tended to be very moody if he didn’t eat early in the morning.

“He is actually sleeping on the biggest balcony we have.” She looked at him surprised. Deciding to join them, after all he wasn’t the only one that got angry when hungry. “These are Nesta.” He pointed to the female by his side, she was wearing black leather clothes, eyes filled with power. “And Elain.” He pointed to the petit female sitting by Azriel’s side, she had scooted her chair closer to him, a hand wrapped around his biceps in a protective manner.

“Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N.” A plate filled with muffins, bacon, eggs, pancakes and a cup of coffee appeared in front of her. The smell was delicious, so she started to eat.

“Cassian told me you cut Rhysand open on your first day here, I've been wanting to do that for months now. Nice move.” The female, Nesta, started. A smug carving her pretty face.

“I’m glad to help.” She joked, sipping on her coffee. “Just making sure there’s no valgs around.” She pointed, something still felt weird about him, being so similar to Maeve, after all she chose to look like him.

“It’s the fourth time since you’re here that you mention those valg things.” Azriel started, his gaze fixed on hers, watching as the corner of her lips turned downwards in pure distaste.

“Demons from another world that infested my land and destroyed everything.” The table fell silent. “They had lots of forms, and they were very powerful. Some say that witches come from breeding valgs and faes, that the Ironteeth took after the Valgs while the Crochans took after the faes.”

“So you’re a witch? Looks like it.” The other female snickered, receiving a disapproval glare from both her sister and her mate. Azriel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. She caught it, her nostrils flaring at his behaviour.

“Elain..” Nesta reprimanded her but the female giggled without any humour.

“Yes, I’m a witch.” That frown turned into a cruel smirk as she turned to Elain, neither of them wanted to be on the receiving end of that glare. “And I killed for less than this silly offence.”

“Of course Elain didn’t mean it that way.” Azriel started, giving her a stern look as she tried to protest. What the fuck was wrong with her? “So what are your plans for the day?” He inquired, wanting desperately to change topics.

“First, check on him.” She pointed to the ceiling. “And then i don’t know, find a way to get the fuck out of here maybe.” She shrugged.

“Would you be interested in participating in some Valkyrie training?” Nesta spoke, by her instance, the weapon behind her back and the scars, she knew she was in the presence of a formidable warrior, and she wanted to see what she could do.

“And what would this be?” Nesta started to talk about the Valkyries and their work, how they had won the blood rite and the growing number of female warriors, this seemed like a great idea, which made her accept.

“Great, we see your wyvern and then we go?” Y/N nodded. Perfect.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The animal opened its eyes, slowly moving his head until he spotted a very excited Nesta behind his rider. Y/N rolled her eyes and lowered her hand.

“She’s a friend.” It felt weird saying this about this stranger, but it was the best way to convince him that she was safe. “And here’s breakfast.” She said, throwing the dead sheep Cassian had handed her before she made her way towards the balcony. Meraxes immediately caught it, its teeth crushing the animal as his tail wiggled.

“He’s beautiful.” Nesta spoke, mesmerised by the animal.

“He’s a giant puppy, that’s what he is.” Y/N laughed as he pouted at her. “Alright, alright.” She turned to Nesta. “Not a puppy, he’s a very scary big deadly wyvern. Happy now?” Nesta could swear that she saw him nodding his head like he could understand her.

“How did you get him?” Nesta asked while Y/N inspected him for any injuries.

“They were made for us, we just had to be chosen. We bonded and I've been his rider since then. We’ve been through a lot together, I don't know what I would do without him.” She rested her head against his nose and he closed his eyes as their hearts beat in synchrony.

“I can see the love you two share.” Y/N smiled at Nesta. “Does he understand you?” She let her curiosity take the best of her.

“He does, despite pretending he doesn’t.” She laughed. “Should we get going?” Nesta nodded.

“Just a few steps down.” She followed the female silently, still feeling weird about the whole ordeal, but Nesta seemed like a very nice female, someone Asterin would love to meet.

“These are the Valkyries.” Nesta announced as they entered a training area. Various females stood there, all of them wearing the same clothes but so different from one another. It reminded her of the witches back home. “Valkyries, this is Y/N, she will be joining today’s training.”

The females greeted her with animation, happy to learn more fighting techniques. She scanned her crowd, a female with very bright blue eyes and freckles looked the happiest, by her side a tanned female with wings, just like Cassian and Azriel, studied her with a reserved smile on her lips.

“Hello, ladies. I come from a lineage of strong warriors, females born to fight.” The females stood in silence, paying attention to her. “We are the Ironteeth witches.” She clicked her jaw, her metallic smile shining in the sun alongside her claws, the females gasped. “For centuries my people fought, every newborn witchling knew how to hold a sword before she could even walk.”

She pulled the long sword from her back, the dark grey blade swallowing the light as it was pulled out of its shelter. A amethyst was placed in the middle of the handle, and adorning the middle of the blade, shining with power. The black handle was cold to the touch and she felt the weight of the sword.

“This is the Godslayer.” She lowered the weapon, placing the blade in front of her with respect. The females tried to look at the intricate pattern on the blade. It was as beautiful as Ataraxia. “The blade that help defeat the Valgs, a parasite type of demon that infested our home.” She turned her head to the side, showing her scar. “The blade many tried to kill me to have.”

The scar itched, she remembered the yellowlegs jumping on her wyvern, claiming that she would take the Godslayer away from such an unworthy bearer. It was that bitch who sliced her face open with her claws, and it was also that bitch that laid unmoving with her abdomen open on the battlefield.

“So I know a thing or two about fighting.” She concluded with a smile and the females smiled back at her. Azriel and Cassian stayed behind her, her story peeking their interest. Azriel caught himself wanting to know more about her, hear her stories about her land and her scars.

He had come to training after a quick argument with Elain, she had claimed that he was very quick to defend the stranger and that she said nothing that no one else was already thinking. He left her after stating that he was just being nice to her and there was no need for her rude remark. Elain had turned her back to him and he was more than happy to leave her alone.

“Who wants to go against her?” Nesta said, a couple of hands were lifted in the air, but Azriel stepped forward, ignoring them and clearing his throat.

“I’ll go.” She turned to him, her sword back in place. “Choose your weapons.” He offered, hand pointing to the weapon shelf behind her, she shook her head. Removing her cloak and her sword, clicking her jaw until her teeth disappeared. She lifted her hands. “Just your nails? Be careful not to break them.” He warned, unsheathing truth teller.

The females made a circle around them, Y/N watched as the Shadowsinger prepared himself, wings clutched against his back and his dagger at eye level. She had impaled lots of enemies with those nails, a dagger wouldn’t stop her. With an iron nail, she curled her finger, urging him forward.

Azriel felt his skin tight, her smell completely intoxicating. He lunged forward, his dagger clashing against iron, sparks of fire surging as the two slid together. He gasped in surprise as the nails kept intact, no matter how sharp the truth teller was.

She kicked his legs, making him falter. He let his body fall backwards when a sharp nail got really close to his face. He punched her in the abdomen, making her trip a few steps back away from him, giving him the upper hand. They circled each other, like in a silent dance with a song only they could hear.

She punched his face, blood pouring out of his busted lip, while her nose, that he had landed a punch moments earlier leaked a blue substance, by the scent, it was blood. The females watched intrigued at the colour, never seeing something like this before. They all watched in silence, learning her moves, how easily she moved, how she dodged his blows and how she attacked. A formidable warrior indeed, Nesta once again was right.

She ran for him, jumping on him. Azriel quickly ducked down, away from her reach, just like she knew he would. She landed with her back turned to him, quickly spinning in the same spot, like a very skilled dancer. Azriel got up, but didn’t turn quick enough. He felt the cold edge of her nails scraping against his throat, her legs wrapped around his waist. Heat emanated from her.

“And that’s how you die.” She whispered in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. She clicked her jaw, the sound of her iron teeth, the superior half hitting the bottom half as she bit the air really close to his earlobe.

Azriel felt his blood run wildly in his veins, warming his heart and making it hard to think with her pressed like that against him. She quickly let him go, circling him and bowing a bit.

“Thank you for the fight.” She turned to the females. “Anyone else would like to go?” This time, more hands raised in the air, she smiled at them, and Azriel found himself lost in that beautiful smile.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @fieldofdaisiies @blackgirlmagicforever @a-frog-with-a-laptop @going-through-shit @asweetblueberry2

@roses-r-red54330 @mis-lil-red @sheblogs @hibye02 @impossibelle

@glitterypirateduck @zeroangelo13 @sekiro1310 @nelapeach14 @annamariereads16

@just-here-reading @celestialend @donttellthecats @scatteredstardustt @snoopyspace

@asterinblacksword @tsumudoll @georginat12 @skyjasper @anuttellaa

@willowpains @quinzzelx @amysangel @fightmedraco @puttyly

#acotar #sarahjmaas #azriel shadowsinger #moonlightazriel #shadowsinger #azriel #azriel x reader #velaris #azriel x y/n #night court #worlds apart fic #azriel x oc #azriel acotar

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tomssexdoll · 21 days

Text

When I was your man

PAIRINGS: Tom 2009 x Female reader CONTENT: ANGST + FLUFF + SMUT SYPNOSIS: Tom and Y/N broke up, after 2 years of dating she finally had enough of his shitty behaviour. Tom starts to see her everywhere and deeply regrets his actions, crying for you every night. One night he sees you at a bar, dancing with another man and he approaches you. A/N: inspired by when I was your man by bruno mars WARNINGS: dom! tom, sub!reader, eating out, alcohol mentions, fingering

Me and Y/N broke up a month ago, she couldn't deal with my shitty behaviour she said, complaining about how I treat her. When I refused to apologise she took her things and left, texting me later that we were over.

As soon as I saw her say that I burst into tears, realizing my shitty actions towards her.

I went to bed that night but it didn't feel right. It was the same bed but it felt just a little bit bigger, more empty without her, cold and lonely.

I hear our song on the radio but it doesn't sound the same. The song we had our first kiss to, lost our virginities to, countless of memories wasted all because of me.

When my friends talk about her all it does is just tear me down, cause my heart breaks a little when I hear her name.

I've been super depressed after the breakup, not being able to sleep properly and not eating. All I wanted was her, to hold her, caress her soft skin, kiss and appreciate her. But she was gone, and I didn't know how long it'd be until I could have her in my arms again.

My pride, my ego, my needs and my selfish ways, caused a good strong woman like her to walk out of my life, and it haunts me everytime I close my eyes.

I couldn't just set my selfishness down for a second, I was a fucking idiot, treating the kindest and most beautiful girl like shit, disregarding her feelings, gaslighting her and neglecting her. I looked at twitter, seeing headlines of her with another guy.

I sobbed and sobbed, crying my eyes out, seeing her already moved on. I knew I deserved it but I wanted her back so badly, she was my everything, my baby, my world. I wish I could turn back time and just start all over again, make her feel like the only girl in the world, make her feel special and loved.

One day I decided to go to a bar and drink my sorrows away, running out of all the alcohol in my house that I drowned myself in. I sat down, ordering a couple shots of whiskey, downing them within seconds.

I turned around to see everyone dancing, sweaty bodies pressed up against each other, making me remember the special moments we shared in this bar, tears welled up in my eyes again.

Then suddenly I saw her, Y/N was there, she was so beautiful, so stunning. Her features glowing from the flashing lights, curves showing off in her sexy dress. My baby was dancing like she loved to do, but she was dancing with another man, he smiled at her, holding her close and kissing her gently.

My eyes widened and I stared there in shock, it felt like the world stopped, like everything went silent. She swayed her hips, grinding into him. She looked like she was having so much fun.

I stepped closer, the lights now hitting me. She turned and looked at me, her eyes widening and her movements haltering. We just stared at each other for a while, she eventually rolled her eyes and excused herself, walking off. I ran after her, calling out for her.

Eventually I grabbed onto her arm, looking down at her "baby..please" I choked out a sob, she pushed me off "get off me Tom, I told you we're over.." she mumbled, not being able to look me in the eyes.

I noticed how she quickly wiped a tear from her cheek, I grabbed her chin and lifted it to look at me, "I know im probably much too late, to try and apologise for my mistakes" I sighed "but i just want you to know, I hope he buys you flowers and holds your hand, gives you all his hours, take you to every party cause i remember how much you loved to dance, do all the things i've should've done..when i was your man.."

Tears welled up in her eyes, she hugged me tightly and sobbed into my chest, "oh tom..I missed you so much" I smiled and stroked her hair. "Let's go outside baby..talk about things better, hm?" I mumbled against her hair, she nodded and took my hand, leading my outside and leaving the guy she was with.

We walked to my car and got in, blasting the heating. "He's not with me or anything..i've been hooking up with him for like 2 weeks and I figured paparazzi might have been there to take photos and make you jealous.." she crossed her arms, frowning.

"I deserve it though, I treated you badly baby, you didn't deserve to go through what you did" I held her hand, rubbing my thumb over the skin softly, "maybe you can give me another chance? I swear I'll change baby, it won't be like the other times, I need to prove to you that I can change, I can be a better man for you" I started to cry again, she winced and got onto my lap, wiping my tears away and kissing me softly.

"I'm an idiot for forgiving you again..but fuck you seem so sincere.." she sighed, smiling softly. "I'll do anything for you baby, name it and i'll do it, I just can't lose you" I said, my voice shaky, rough with emotion.

"I haven't been able to function without you, you complete my world" I caressed her cheek. "Let's go home, I'm tired of living out of a shitty hotel" she giggled, climbing into the passanger seat again.

As we got home she rushed in, running onto our shared bed, "fuck..how I missed this bed" she rolled around in it, I smiled and walked in, laying next to her.

"Tom..?" she turned to me, "yes schatz?" I pulled her closer, looking down at her. "Why did you treat me so badly?" her question hit hard, I didn't really know myself. "Uh..I don't know..I was just stupid and I didn't appreciate the wonderful woman I had in front of me, I was a little intimidated, you were way too good for me and I just thought sabotaging everything would make it better, which now I see was fucking stupid" I groaned, rubbing my temples in frustration.

"I'm just glad you eventually saw how it affected me, I missed you a lot I will admit but I was also hurt and I still am" I nodded, "I know baby..and I'm so sorry, I wish I could take back all the pain" I said, reaching out and grabbing her hips, rubbing them softly.

"You know I'd do anything for you, I would take a bullet straight through my brain just to prove my love to you." She chuckled "baby..chill out" I smirked "sorry..I just want you to know how much I love and appreciate you"

She climbed on top of me, tracing my features with her delicate fingers. "There will be no sunlight if I lose you baby, just like the clouds my eyes will do the same, if you walk away everyday it'll rain" I kissed her softly, she smiled "Tom that's beautiful.." she whispered and kissed me back.

I flipped us over, me hovering over her. "Let me give you the love you deserve, make you feel beautiful.." she nodded and slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing black lacey bra.

My head dove into her chest, kissing and sucking softly.

She moaned softly, delicate sounds coming out of her beautiful lips. I reached down and removed her skirt. Her beautiful figure underneath me.

My fingers traced her curves softly, appreciating her beauty. "So, so beautiful..my angel" I whispered, kissing down her stomach and planting a soft kiss on her panties, her hips bucking up slightly.

"Tom..don't tease" she whined, I chuckled and slid her panties off, bending her legs and prying her thighs apart, licking a stripe on her folds, collecting her juices.

I slowly lapped my tongue onto her her clit, sucking softly, "mm!" she moaned loudly, gripping onto the sheets tightly. I smirked, happy to see her so pleasured.

I sneaked my hand up, entering 2 digits into her wetness, stretching her out. "Oh fuck!" she groaned as my fingers curled at her g spot, "is it good baby?" I teased, she nodded and screwed her eyes shut, focusing on the pleasure.

My fingers found their rhythm inside her, thrusting in and out. I could feel her release slowly approaching, her breath coming in short gasps. I increased the pressure on her clit, sucking harder as I felt her about to climax.

I could tell I was driving her wild, her head lolled back and her eyes were tightly shut, legs slightly trembling. "Cum for me baby.." I moaned on her clit, slobbering all over it.

I felt her pussy clench against my fingers as she came hard, a loud high pitched moan leaving her mouth. "So good.." I chuckled, licking up all her juices and climbing up to hover over her again.

I grabbed my clothed erection, "do you want it baby?" she nodded quickly, grabbing at my pants and shoving them off. I grinned at her urgency, pulling my cock out of my boxers and pumping it a few times.

"Can't wait to be inside you again.." I groaned, pressing my tip at her entrance, slowly pushing in. It had been a while since we last fucked, her "hookups" obviously not as big as me.

She cried out, holding onto me tightly, "fuck!", I dragged my hand down to her clit, rubbing slow circles to let her relax. I felt her pussy unclench on my cock, finally being able to thrust in better.

I slowly thrusted, gradually picking up my pace so I didn't hurt her.

Eventually my cock was pounding into her, my grip tight on her hips, holding her into place. "Fuck..so tight" I groaned, my head rolling back.

"Mmm! Fuck!" she moaned, feeling my tip hit her g spot, I leaned down and started to suck her nipples softly, earning a loud groan from her. My tongue swirled against her sensitive buds, making her throw her head back.

"Cum for me pretty girl.." I grunted, picking up my pace again and slamming into her, the tension building in my stomach as I felt my release approach, nails digging into her hips.

"Mmh! Oh shit!" she cried out, wrapping her arms around me and holding me close, her pussy clenching around my cock, increasing the amount of pleasure I was recieving.

I felt her body shudder under me, her orgasm washing over her and her juices painting my cock, I groaned and came inside her, shooting my load deep into her and making sure to keep thrusting so it could stay in.

I sighed and collapsed on top of her, cock still buried deep inside her hole. "I missed you so much baby..I swear i'll never ever hurt you again, I was so stupid to treat you that way" I winced "please forgive me and take me back.." she frowned at my pain, kissing me softly.

"I know you're sorry baby, it'll take a while for me to trust you again but we can try one more time, don't blow it" she sighed, I sighed in relief, peppering kisses all over her face and flipping us over so that she was on top of my chest, "get some rest baby" I whispered into her hair.

tags: @itsmealaiah @tomkaulitzloverr @tomscumdump @tomscumdoll @bkaulitzlover @ballhair @estxkios @ge-billsgf @charliesgoodboy

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nicoline1998enilocin · 9 months

Note

hey love, i have a request if you’re up for it

my birthday is this friday and i was wondering if you could make a Bucky birthday fic, it could be smut, fluff, both, anything i want you to let your creativity run wild

i love your fics and i know this one will be amazing🩷

Bucky's Big Birthday Bash

PAIRING | Fiancée!Bucky Barnes x Fiancé!Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.9K

SUMMARY | You've been secretly planning Bucky's birthday, and even though he said he wanted to keep it small, you're gonna give him the best party he has ever had after missing out on 70 years of birthday parties.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Very light angst, swearing, smut [ grinding, oral (M receiving), throat fucking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation ].

A/N | Thank you so much for the request, @multiversefanfics, and I wish you the happiest of all birthdays and that all your birthday wishes may come true! Enjoy my little present from me to you, and I can't wait to see more of your work, too! Yours is just as amazing after all 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🩷

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

''Hmm, good morning, doll,'' Bucky says as he turns around, reaching out to pull you close to his chest, but to his surprise, he's met with an empty space on your side of the bed.

''Doll?'' he says as he sits up, unsure why your usual space is now cold and lifeless. Usually, you're there every morning to cuddle up to him, share kisses, and start the day slowly.

Right now, something feels off to Bucky, and he can't quite place it.

He gets out of bed and walks through your shared apartment, calling your name a few times before finally spotting the note on the kitchen counter next to a cold cup of coffee. Yours, he presumed.

I'm on an emergency mission with Tony + Steve. I'll call when I can.

Love,

Your doll

The handwriting is rushed, and he sighs. He hates mornings like these, even though he knows the feeling. Bucky has also been called out for many emergency missions, making it more lonely.

He pours the mug's contents into the sink and makes some black coffee in that same mug. It's your favorite, but whenever you're not there, he likes to use it as a reminder of you.

When the coffee is gone, he changes into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie to go for a run through New York; he has to burn off some energy in a different way now that he can't have you first thing in the morning.

The mission is a success, but you decide not to let Bucky know you're back for just a few more hours, using this time to work on a surprise for Bucky's birthday with Steve in his studio.

You have asked Steve to paint a portrait of you and Bucky from the night you got engaged based on a few photos that somebody took, and he's more than happy to help you out.

''I still find it hard to believe he has been planning on proposing for such a long time,'' you tell Steve while sitting on a chair that's pulled next to him.

''Believe me, I've been there every step of the way, and he was so nervous he couldn't do it the first few times,'' Steve says as he's mixing some paint to finish the night sky in the background.

''Excuse me? Did you say-'' is all you can say because your phone is going off, and you see it's Bucky calling.

''Hold that thought,'' you say as you pick up.

''Hi, Hubby, is everything okay?'' you ask, worried; Bucky usually doesn't call unless it's an absolute emergency.

''Hey, I'm sorry for asking, but when do you think you'll be home? I haven't seen you in almost a week, and JARVIS tells me the mission is done. I miss you and your cuddles,'' Bucky sighs as he admits he's been waiting for your arrival home.

''It's okay. I have a few more errands to run, and then I'll be home. Shouldn't be more than a couple hours,'' you tell him, even though you feel bad for lying.

''Oh, okay. Be careful, and I love you, Bubby,'' he says with the defeat laced through his voice.

''I will, and I love you too, Hubby,'' you say as you hang up.

You look at the canvas again while Steve is working, and tears start welling up in your eyes, thinking about how lucky you are to have met this gorgeous man you'll call your husband soon.

When you sniff softly, Steve suddenly stops and looks at you.

''Are you okay?'' he says as he sets his supplies down and grabs your hand to pull you in for a hug.

''Sorry, yeah. It's just that it's- well, it's hard not telling him what I'm planning for him. I hate keeping secrets, especially from him,'' you sigh as guilt slowly creeps up your spine.

''You should go home and see him. I know he'll be more than happy to see you,'' Steve says, and you know he's right.

''Alright, and thank you again for doing this; you're the best,'' you say as you head out and back to your husband-to-be.

This time, it was Bucky's turn to be called in for a last-minute mission, and this gave you the perfect opportunity to get everything ready for his birthday without worrying about him finding out.

The painting Steve had done turned out to be perfect, and you thanked him by taking him out for lunch, which he hesitantly accepted.

''Steve, please! Let me repay you for all your hard work with lunch. It's the least I can do!'' you said, and he finally gave in, so the two of you got some delicious bagels for lunch.

Now you're busy as the Compound, where you're decorating one of the smaller ''party rooms'' as Tony calls them, to celebrate his birthday with the Avengers.

Bucky told you that even though he's okay with celebrating his birthday, he doesn't want a huge party or anything. Just dinner with you and a movie is all he needs, but he also knows that's probably different from what he will get.

Sure, with the help of Tony, you've got a reservation at one of the fanciest restaurants in New York on his birthday, but the rest of the evening will be lowkey with some presents, drinks, music, and dancing.

You've got a huge banner that says ''Bucky's Big Birthday Bash!'' in black and gold; it says ''Happy 106th Birthday,'' the colors matching his Vibranium arm.

All the presents from everyone are neatly arranged on a table, and yours, standing in the center of it all, is by far the biggest.

The rest of the room is decorated with little garlands, small triangular flags, and simple decorations. When you're done, you look around the room again, and when you're happy, you lock the door behind you so no one can come in unsupervised.

Later that night, Bucky gets home just in time for his birthday, and you're delighted to have him back right on time.

It's the morning of Bucky's birthday, and you're planning on surprising him first thing in the morning. You slipped out of bed a little earlier and changed into a gorgeous set of red lingerie and stockings.

You're preparing breakfast for him in the form of pancakes, and you got him his favorite fruit as a dessert, the plums already waiting in a bowl on the kitchen table.

When Bucky's alarm goes off, you're in the bedroom but not lying next to him. Instead, you've seated yourself in the big armchair in the corner, waiting for him to notice you.

''Mornin' doll,'' he says with his deep, rumbling voice, and you can't help but feel yourself grow wet at the sound.

''I'm over here, J. I've been waiting for you to wake up,'' you say, and his eyes scan the room and immediately grow wide when he spots you in your lingerie.

''Well, happy fucking birthday to me!'' he says as you get up and walk over to him.

''Happy fucking birthday indeed,'' you say as you push him down and get seated on his already hard dick, slowly grinding back and forth while you work your tongue into his mouth.

Deep groans come from his chest as you keep the same slow rhythm while precum slowly dribbles from his cock to make a damp patch in his underwear.

''Want me to clean you up?'' you ask with innocence in your eyes, but Bucky is well aware that you're intentions are anything but innocent when he sees the outfit you're wearing, but he's not mad at it.

''Please,'' he says, and you crawl down his body, leaving soft kisses in your path as you work his underwear from his body. You throw it to the side and place your hand around the base of his hard cock.

Your lips wrap softly around the tip, and you suckle, making him buck his hips and work deeper into your mouth.

''Jesus, doll,'' he moans as you take him slowly into your mouth, sucking your cheeks in as you do until your nose is connected with his pubic bone.

You keep bobbing your head up and down until Bucky's hands find their way into your hair, and he starts thrusting up into your mouth and throat until you're gagging around him.

As he does it, your nails are buried into his thighs, and you try to breathe through your nose unsuccessfully.

When you tap his thigh twice, he lets up, and you can finally breathe, a few strings of saliva running down your chin and connecting to his cock, making you look extremely fucked out, combined with the glossed-over eyes.

''You're gonna be the death of me, doll,'' Bucky says, and you just smile before taking him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks and sucking until he's shooting his cum deep into your throat, forcing you to take every last drop.

When you let go with a wet pop, he immediately pulls you up and moves your panties to the side so he can slide in with one thrust.

You let out a broken moan, and your head falls onto his shoulder, unable to hold itself up at the pleasure you're feeling.

His hands slide over your sides, down your hips, and onto your ass which he grabs before planting his knees on the bed and fucking you thoroughly.

''F-fuck, Bucky! Y-y-yes!'' you say between his thrusts and your moans, and you can't help but cum quickly, squirting all over his cock, legs, and the bed.

''Fuck, such a little slut for me, huh? Squirting all over me like the dirty fucking slut you are?'' Bucky says that his pace doesn't slow down even a bit, and soon you're overstimulated.

''B-Bucky, please! C-can't!'' you whine as he keeps rutting his hips into you, but he's not done yet. He knows you would use your safeword if he goes too far, so he keeps going.

''C'mon, just need one more, and then I'll cum for you,'' he says, and shortly after you do, feeling the orgasm set your insides on fire as it washes over you with incredible power.

''G-gonna cum, doll!'' he says, and he does, painting your soft, velvet walls with his cum as he keeps slowly thrusting as he works through his orgasm.

''You did perfectly for me, doll, always doing so good. You took me so well,'' he says as the two of you stay like that for a little while. He pulls out and cleans you up with a warm washcloth when he's gone completely soft.

''C'mere Bubby,'' he says as he pulls you close to him, his Vibranium arm soothing as he places it on your heated face.

''Love you so much,'' you babble out, and he smiles as he places a soft kiss on your lips, making sure he's gentle not to overwhelm you.

The two of you spend the rest of the day eating your breakfast and getting ready for Bucky's birthday dinner you've planned, and when you walk out of your walk-in closet, you show him the red lace dress you bought for this occasion.

Your hair is curled to perfection, and your make-up is light with a bold red lip that matches your dress perfectly. You put on your black heels and twirl a few times to show him the finished outfit.

''Hold on, there's only one thing missing,'' he says, taking off his dog tags and hanging them around your neck, where they fall perfectly between your breasts.

''Now it's perfect,'' he says, and you can't help but smile at him.

He changed into his birthday outfit, too, and after his hair was done, the two of you headed to the restaurant in your car. Since you two are the first to arrive, you decide to head in and get seated so Bucky can adjust to the atmosphere and stay calm later.

''Good evening, we're here for the reservation under the name Stark,'' you tell the lady behind the counter, and she nods when she finds it.

''You two are the first to arrive, but I suspect the rest of them will follow soon,'' she says as she guides you to a private room. Tony went all out for this, and you're making a mental note to thank him later.

''I can't believe you planned this for me; you know I would have been excellent if it was just the two of us, right?'' he asks, and he takes your hand, stroking it with his thumb.

''I know, but tonight is all about you, and even though it's just us and the other Avengers, I still wanted you to have a special night,'' you tell him, leaning in for a soft kiss.

The two of you are wrapped up in some small talk when the rest of the Avengers and Thor and Loki join in. Loki and Bucky may not be friends, but he promised to be there because you asked him to be.

Everyone is celebrating Bucky and you, and when it's Tony's turn, you can't help but thank him profusely for arranging this dinner in the private room.

''Thank you so much for doing this; it means a lot. And I promise to repay you for all of this,'' you say, but Tony laughs softly as he puts his hands on your upper arms.

''You don't have to repay me for anything; I'm doing this because I love you, okay? This night is all about the two of you, so this is all on me,'' he says, and you pull him in for a hug.

''Just know that I'm eternally grateful for everything you do for us,'' you say, and he smiles.

''I know. Now let's enjoy this dinner!'' Tony says as he sits down, and you do the same. It is a five-course meal; of course, Bucky and Steve have no problem eating it all.

When dinner is done, you're all on your way back to the Compound, and Bucky can tell you're getting cold. ''C'mere, you can have my jacket,'' he says as he shrugs it off and puts it on your shoulders.

''It looks better on you anyways,'' he says, and he places a kiss on your cheek, which makes you giggle softly.

Once you arrive at the Compound, everyone goes to the room you've prepared, but you stay behind with Bucky since you want it to be a surprise.

You have the perfect distraction figured out as you push Bucky into a nearby wall and start attacking him with kisses on his jaw and neck before giving a deep kiss on his lips.

Bucky's hands found their way to your hips, and he pulled you closer, reveling in all the attention you gave him. ''Bucky, we should go for one more surprise,'' you say once you finally manage to break apart.

''Do we have to...?'' he asks with a slight pout, which you kiss away.

''Yes, but after that, I'm all yours to do with whatever you want as your birthday present. You can even tie me up, and you can use whatever hole in whichever way you want,'' you whisper in his ear before nibbling softly on his earlobe.

''Fuck...'' he groans out, giggling softly before pulling him to the room where the other Avengers are.

Bucky opens the door, and everyone is there, yelling ''SURPRISE!'' as he walks in.

''Happy birthday, J,'' you say as he looks around the room, and he can't help but smile widely.

He's opening presents and getting everything from a few new knives for his collection to a cleaning kit for his Vibranium arm. Steve gave him a photo album with all their most precious memories, including a few photos from the 40s that he thought were forever lost.

Last up, however, is your present, and you walk over to get it.

''I will tell you in advance that you should thank Steve for this one, not me, because he helped me create it. I asked him to recreate one of our most special moments together as a reminder that you're stuck with me for the rest of our lives!'' you say, and everyone laughs loudly.

Bucky takes it and gives a small peck on your lips before ripping off the wrapping paper. Inside is the canvas Steve worked on from the night the two of you got engaged.

It's the two of you at the hiking trail where Bucky proposed, and the sunset is behind the two of you. Bucky is on one knee with the ring box popped open, and your hands cover your mouth as you realize what's happening.

Bucky has tears in his eyes as he looks at the canvas in front of him, looking back at the moment with nothing but fond memories.

''It is perfect; thank you so much for recreating this memory,'' Bucky says as he puts it on the floor and his arms wrap around you. He lifts you and captures your lips in a deep, loving kiss to thank you for the thoughtful gift.

''I love you so fucking much, and I'm the luckiest man in the universe,'' he says, and the two of you stay like that for a little longer.

After that, it's time for cake, drinks, and music, and the night is filled with laughter, happiness, and the feeling that everything is just how it is supposed to be.

You and Bucky have been dancing almost all night, and now you are sitting in an armchair in the corner, straddling his lap as his hands or on your ass. Neither of you cares as you are too wrapped up in your make-out session, and this night couldn't be more perfect.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes request #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut

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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months

Text

Midnight

Pairing: Reader x Charles Leclerc

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: Angst, just utter angst, talk of loss of parent, having depression under tones, it's just sad honestly, also each time they speak to each other it's a different night

A/N: I wrote this as a self-indulgence and honestly a work I've kept for myself I wrote late one night decided to post it today.

The night holds secrets, secrets of the unspoken words left for the world to swallow. It's where you find those lost in the world wandering on the streets or those with nothing left to give. The night eats everything, waiting to be washed away from the sun.

Someone once said that the night is when you can make mistakes because it cleans it all away when the sun rises. You don't remember who told you that; maybe it was after your father died. He passed in the night, right before the clock struck midnight.

You still can feel the ocean breeze on your skin as you wander the empty streets, so lost in the world that not even the moon can guide you. Meeting him was a mistake, something you wish the sun could wash away. But not even it was powerful enough to wash away those mistakes. To you, he was the moon and the sun, something that allowed you to be human but still sweep it all away.

The stone wall pressed into your back, etching those marks into your skin. He was a passing shadow, also lost to the world. The stars still don't understand why he reached his hand out to you, one of the night's lonely followers. His voice was like the ocean, calm yet could rage a storm.

"Are you okay?" Something in you twisted, hearing those words. How could you be okay? You lost a piece of you that you never knew could be taken. The world was cruel, snatching away something you still needed. Looking up, his eyes mirrored the stars to you; they could have been stars.

The urge to shove his hand away was strong, but something told you that you needed to take hold of his hand. "No, I'm not okay." You whisper, ice meeting warmth when you slide your hand into his. His fingers wrap around yours as he pulls you up from the ground. "Come on, let's get you somewhere warm." He whispers, pulling you close, and heads to the only lit shop.

Each night was filled with you seeing him, the stranger who you never shared names with. It was the one thing you asked: no telling each other your names. He agreed, far too eager when you suggested it. You asked him why he liked the idea, and he smiled, saying his name carried some weight.

That he'll enjoy being able to talk to someone who didn't know him. You didn't care who he was. All you wanted was to tell someone your midnight secrets. Each night for almost a year, you two met up at that same shop he brought you to when you first met. "You've been skipping our nights." You whispered, a steaming coffee mug in your hands.

You didn't even need to look up to see his face. You could hear his brain clicking. "My job requires me to travel, starting in March all the way to November. I'll be gone for a while, but keep showing up. I'll be here one night." He smiled, taking in your frown. "Okay," It's all you said to that. Maybe he was lying. How could you know? An average person would ask his name and already have an FBI profile on them, but you weren't normal. You haven't been since your father passed.

The cold nights turned into warm hugs. Which brought more people out, the secrets of the night now filled with the happiness that the sun brings. You hated it; people filled the streets, and the buildings now glimmered with the stars. People could no longer hide their secrets at night, for they'd be shown just as bright as day. As each night grew warmer, the more your shadow was no longer there, sitting in the corner, fingers moving with the soft piano notes that filled the shop.

"You're here." You were in such a daze when you walked in, the piece taken from you bigger than expected. "Yes," You breathe, hating how that piece in you shrunk seeing his smile. Sitting down, the secrets pass like a breeze, each of you sharing what no one dared to speak, much less think. "He died today." It was something you would never dare say. You were baring a shard of your soul, a piece chipped and sharpened by the cruel world.

"Who did?" His voice still that same ripple of the ocean. "My father," Your hand tightens on the mug. Who is this person? The one speaking of forgotten memories, the one speaking of the pain you never shared. "Mine died as well. I was young." He sips his drink, looking at the books that line the walls. Neither of you spoke a word for the rest of the night.

"It was," You clear your throat, the pitter-patter of rain marking the dark sky. "He died from an accident." Green eyes, the color of fresh grass after it rains, stare into yours. "Mine was cancer. It doesn't matter how they're taken. It's still too soon." Nodding to his words, you clamp your mouth shut, trying to stop the spill of all your secrets. "He's all I had left. Now I'm alone, like the stars." You place the money down and slip into the rain.

"Oh love, still here?" You've been acquainted with the elderly shopkeeper. Arthur, or Archie as he liked to be called, ran your little slice of sun. A little run-down coffee book shop that only locals know. Yet, they rarely visit. "He said I should still come, even when he doesn't show." You repeat the words back, fiddling with your mug. "Darling, it's been 3 weeks since he's been here. Go home." Archie whispers, patting your back as he hobbles into the back.

"He said to always come, even when he doesn't." The night holding onto those words filled with the longing you had. Was it possible to love a shadow? A shadow you have yet to see, a shadow you're not sure exists. The bell ding echoes into the street as you leave the shop. Walking through the road, you can hear the warmth that clings to people's laughter. How you wish you could laugh again, to feel that in your chest again.

Looking away from the brightness, you don't notice when someone collides with you. "Oh shit, Charles, you good man?" A voice rings with concern as you look up, meeting those eyes you crave. "I," He sits up, reaching out for you again. This time, you don't accept his hand. "Charles? Yo, we've got to go before the fans find us." A man turns the corner as you and your shadow, Charles, stare at one another. "I have to go." Scrambling up, you rush into the dark, where Charles stands, half in the light.

"You're here." He breathes. You hate yourself. You hate that you couldn't stay away. The secrets that were supposed to remain covered by the dark of the night are now slowly leaking into the light. Oh, how much you wish you could join it again. "To say goodbye." His bright smile fades like the sun setting. "No, don't. Just because you know my name doesn't mean you know me. Please, don't." He pleads, sliding into his chair.

"I have to, Char," You stop yourself, covering your mouth. "There is a reason we never shared names. Names have power, a power we will never understand. If you knew my name, you have the power of my secrets. I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry." Gathering up your stuff, you get stopped, his hand holding yours. "Who cares? We only give names and secretes the power to hurt us; don't let this be our last time." He whispers, fingers rubbing into your wrist.

"Charles, you're the sun, and I the moon. Destined to only know each other for such a short time that half the world goes dark, just to be near each other. You are to remain in the light and me the dark," Taking a deep breath, you smile. "For the night craved the light so much it drowned it created the stars so it wouldn't be lonely anymore."

The bell rings for the last time in the night. The stars were there to keep it company and to be graced with what little light it was offered.

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maybank-archives · 8 months

Note

Hii, could I request jj x reader where she’s been feeling kinda lonely and jj’s worried? just pure comfort please

lonely - jj maybank

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warning: angsty? fluff? soft!jj maybank?

word count: 0.7k

author’s notes: i'm guessing y'all reaaaaally are into soft jj! 4 in a row! i tried my best to make every each one of this different but idk.

masterlist | join the taglist | kinktober!!!!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Ding!

My phone lit up once more, marking the fourth notification from the same sender, my boyfriend, JJ.

I knew that would happen the moment I declined another invitation to go out with everyone.

With a sigh, I unlocked my phone and tapped on his message. "Hey, babe, why don't you want to come? It's gonna be cool!" I hesitated, then began typing my reply, "I just need some quiet time tonight, J."

Moments later, another message popped up from JJ, "Got it, is everything okay?" I stared at the screen, contemplating. After a couple minutes, I wrote back, "I promise, everything's okay. I just need some me-time. We'll hang out soon, I promise." As I set my phone aside, the feeling of emptiness has settled in my chest.

There’s no way to explain the place I found myself. Despite my life being pretty much fun and full of adventure, I feel lost, disconnected, and overwhelmingly lonely even though I’m most of my time surrounded by people. It was as if a million of uncertainty popped into my mind every five seconds.

I crawled into my bed, aware that my sleep wouldn’t come any time soon, just like every other night, when my thoughts and paranoias kept me awake for hours. This heavy feeling in my chest didn’t make things any easier either.

I decided to go to the kitchen, a snack might help, right? Nope, I tried that the other night Maybe. My hands reach for the cookies on the back of the cabinet when I hear a knock on the door. My heart skipped a beat as I went kind of scared to answer it, I opened it just to find JJ standing right in front of me.

He looked at me with concern in his eyes and a determined expression on his face. "Hey," he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "What can I say? I can’t leave my girl alone."

My heart was still beating fast when I hugged him tightly. He held my face planting a kiss on my lip. “I’ve been noticing how you’re distant lately and I’m here at your service, If you feel like talking, sure, we can talk. And if you don't, that's cool too. I'll just hang out with you, no pressure.”

I felt a lump form in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. I have been keeping my feelings bottled up, not wanting to burden JJ with my problems. But seeing him now, the concern in his eyes, made me realize just how honest I can be with him, even though I can’t tell what’s wrong.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” I mumbled.

“I know, I know, I’m here to keep you company.”

I buried my face in his chest, finally letting the tears flow freely. "I've been feeling so lost, J,” I confessed. "I don’t know what’s going on, I don’t know if it’s anxiety or…." I can’t finish my sentence without sobbing.

JJ held me tighter. "It’s okay, I’m here now," he said softly. "We'll figure this out together, just like we always do," he added.

“I-I really didn’t want to worry you, Jay.”

“Hey, you need to know that I’m here, you don’t have to go through this alone,” he said “You were there for me always, it’s no different now.”

I nodded, "Thank you for being here, J," I whispered, wiping away my tears.

He gave me a warm smile and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. "Always, Y/N. Now, how about we get some rest? I'll stay with you tonight, no more loneliness, okay?"

I nodded again, feeling a sense of comfort wash over me. We walked to the bedroom together, and as we settled into bed, JJ pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me protectively.

We lay there in silence for a while, my mind started to calm down. I snuggled closer to JJ, as he gently rubbed my hair. For the first time in a couple weeks, the exhaustion and the emotional breakdown caught with me and I just fell asleep into JJ’s arms, there was no reason to feel alone with his presence.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

#obx #outerbanks #jj maybank #jj obx #outer banks #rudy pankow #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x you #soft!jj maybank #jj maybank obx #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fluff #comfort jj maybank #boyfriend!jj maybank #jj maybank headcanon

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filipfuckingtelford · 9 months

Text

The Forbidden Fruit. Remastered. Part 1.

Chibs x Reader fanfiction. Obviously.

I wrote the previous version long ago, now it seemes too short and flat to me. So I decided to write the new version.

Y/N is Clay and Gemma's daughter. Club's princess. Everyone in the club loves her and she treats everyone nice and caring as well. Chibs was seeing her growing up and never noticed what a beautiful yound woman she became. Untill one night.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 In Flames bonus

⊹──⊱✠⊰──⊹

It was all the same. Every night was pretty much the same after another tough day. When another fight was over and everyone was back to their families or having fun with another croweater in one of the dorms, Chibs was staying alone at the bar, a bottle of scotch being his only company. Bottle of scotch was his best friend in times like this, when he felt alone, broken and vulnerable. Just like tonight.

Sons's warehouse where they used to store their guns was now destroyed, they needed a new place and needed to find a way to replace the damaged weapons they were supposed to sell. It was frustrating long day and Chibs wanted nothing more than to have some peace and some rest.

In nights like this when things went ugly he felt lonely. He had a family once but it was all gone. Chibs knew there's no chance for him to find anyone special here. He tried but he just didn't feel anything. It's been eleven years since he moved to Charming, he moved on, Fiona wasn't his wife anymore. It wasn't that he couldn't forget her. It was just... his heart seemed dead. Yet sometimes he was dreaming of someone to sooth his pain after another busy day. To wait for him to come home from another ride.

After couple of years of living in Charming Chibs even bought a small house as he hoped that one day he'll have a new family. But it never happened. And the house was empty, half-furnished, forgotten. It was exactly how Filip felt. And he couldn't force himself to live there, staying in one of the rooms in the clubhouse.

He poured some scotch to his glass and downed it with one gulp wondering why he even needed a glass for that. Chibs lit a cigarette and took a deep drag allowing the mixture of alcohol and smoke burn down his throat. Anything worked to make him feel alive. That was when he heard the footstpes from behind. It was too light for one of his brothers, so he first thought it was one of croweaters looking for some more fun. He felt tensed. Chibs didn't want any of them to interrupt his inner conversation about his life. As he heard the voice though he raised his brows surprised.

"What are you doing here alone?" Y/N asked as she came closer and landed on the bar stool next to him. Chibs glanced at her still surprised.

"I should be asking ye this, lass" He smirked. Y/N... Clay's daughter. Club's princess. She had everyone in the club wrapped around her little finger, she could make Happy act like a fluffy puppy with her. She could make Tig forget all his cheesy comments and treat her as a lady. She made Juice blush and mumble. Clay adored her allowing her pretty much everything. And Chibs... they hardly ever spoke to each other. He remembered her being only nine when he first came to Charming and it seemed to him that she was scared of him with his scars and gloomy face. So he was trying to avoid her, to not bother her. And Y/N never was searching for his company. Until tonight.

"I've stayed at the clubhouse, I do it every now and then when dad's too busy. And mom doesn't mind it" Y/N smiled at him. Soft, soothing, calming. That's what her smile was. "I just love the way this place becomes quiet and peacefull at nights"

"Aye... I love it either" Chibs nodded as he glanced at Y/N who grabbed a bottle of beer for herself. She was underaged for drinking but who was he to forbid it to her?

"So that's why you're staying here alone?" She asked watching him carefully. It made him look away. Her eyes were reaching to his heart, as if she could see right through his disguise.

"Mostly. I just needed something to ease my nerves after today" Chibs shrugged looking at the bottle of scotch infront of him.

"Tough day?" Y/N moved a bit closed together with the chair that was too heavy and her move was a bit awkward, causing Chibs to smile slightly. She didn't care though.

"Aye" He nodded and finally looked at her again. Her bright green eyes were right infront of him. Looking right to his soul.

"You're sad" Y/N stated. It wasn't even a question. She just knew it. And Chibs didn't want to hide it.

"I am, lass" He admitted and took a sip from the bottle.

"Why?" She asked and Filip knew he was going to answer as it was.

"I feel lonely" He shrugged still feeling her watching him. There was not a single chance for Chibs to hide anything from this girl. He just couldn't and had not a single idea why.

"Lonely?" Y/N raised her brows and looked around "This place is infested with croweaters ready to make you feel good in any way you want it"

Chibs choked with another gulp of scotch. Such a young lass wasn't supposed to say something like this. But she did and it made him realise she was not a child anymore. Filip looked at Y/N and saw it finally for the first time. She was a young woman. Gorgeous, amazing. And she was teasing him now, just a bit, to lighten the mood. If he could blush he definetely would.

"Gosh... not this kind of lonely!" Chibs laughed quietly and shook his head. If he'd wanted a one night stand he could've easily find it here in the clubhouse. But it just wasn't for him. He needed something real.

"What kind of lonely then?" Y/N wanted to make it clear for herself. She obviously had no doubts he'd tell her everything. The confidence in her voice and her eyes made Chibs wonder how could he miss all of it happening to her. She was a child once and all of a sudden now he finally saw her the way she was.

"Ye see" Chibs turned to her, looking into her eyes. It made him nervous and Y/N seemed to stay calm as he continued "After another long day I see my brothers coming back to their families and all I have is... well, this. Staying up with a bottle of scotch, sleeping in the dorm here in the clubhouse. Like I've moved on from my past but still didn't reach my present not talking about the future. I don't even have anyone to talk to."

Here it was, in several words he described exactly how he felt. Chibs didn't know if she would understand and he couldn't look at Y/N. Then he felt it. Her small fingers grabbing his roughened palm, squeezing it gently.

"You can always talk to me if you want, Filip" Y/N said, all the teasing gone. She was caring about him and Chibs could hardly understand why.

The sensation of hearing his name from her was too much. It sent electricity down his body, made him look at her with a silent question in his eyes. Why did she call him by his real name? He haven't heard it for ages.

"Why do ye want to waste yer time talking to me?" Chibs finally asked.

"It's not wasting my time" Y/N gave him the softest of smiles "You are the part of this family and I care about everyone here"

Just like this. He was just a part of the family. Chibs didn't know why it bothered him. But being just a part of the family wasn't what he needed. He couldn't blame Y/N for caring about everyone who was the part of the club though.

"Aye, I am" He nodded. She let go of his palm and Chibs took another gulp from the bottle. "Tell me, how do ye see yer future?"

He was curious to know what did she want from life. Such a young, delicate lass. Club could be dangerous yet she seemed to like it. And he was wondering why.

"I... I don't know, Filip" Y/N looked up at him, her cheek against her palm, her elbow resting on the bar counter "I love this club. I wish I could one day be patched. But I know it's not an option. So I will just stick around, taking care of the family just like mom does"

"Ye know life is dangerous around here?" Chibs narrowed his eyes as he turned to look at her.

"I know, yes. But I just love it" Y/N shrugged "I see how connected you all are. And I know it means alot"

"Aye, lass. It does" Chibs agreed as he lit another cigarette.

"This thing gonna kill you" She admitted and made him laugh again. She could do it so easily.

"I can teach ye to shoot. And ride a bike" Chibs offered. He wasn't supposed to, but somehow he knew Y/N wanted it and he didn't mind to be the one to teach her.

"I'd love to" She smiled obviously excited about the idea. Then she glanced at her watch and back at Chibs "You better go have some sleep. I heard dad was telling you to be ready for the run in the morning"

"He did, so ye're right I guess. Ye want me to give ye a lift back home?" Chibs stood up and looked down at Y/N but she shook her head.

"I'm good, I'll stay at Jax's room. He's home with Tara so I can sleep there" Y/N stood up as well "Good night, Filip" she said with a soft smile and headed towards the room.

"Goodnight, lass" Chibs replied and downed the bottle before he left to his room as well now ready to sleep. Somehow with this simple talk Y/N could calm him down, sooth his pain and bring him peace.

⊹──⊱✠⊰──⊹

Since then they've been seeing each other from time to time when Y/N was staying at the clubhouse for the night and on some peacefull days. He was teaching her to shoot and ride a bike and no one seemed to stand against it. Y/N was having all the club at her service so there was no surprise Chibs did what she wanted. For him though it was something special. Every moment they've spent together meant so much for him and he couldn't evern explain himself why.

Y/N could easily make him laugh even when he felt low. She was taking the pain away with only her presence and it made Chibs wonder how could he never notice it.

The reason for the influence Y/N had on Chibs was found in couple of months after their first conversation. It was another party at the clubhouse and he was sitting by the bar as usual, watching his brothers and the rest of people having fun. He spotted Y/N the moment she entered the room. It made him gasp, the way she looked. Wearing high heels and short dress, her long dark hair wild and free. It was so different from her usual clothes - jeans, sneakers and t-shirts. Chibs felt his blood rushing through his veins as he was looking at her. But he couldn't accept the sudden realization just yet. He couldn't feel this for Y/N, she was off limits, he was twice her age. It just couldn't happen.

Y/N meanwhile approached Juice who was messing with the music box, trying to make it play the song he wanted. The boy blushed as she greeted him, it always happened when Y/N was around and usually Chibs was making fun of his younger brother, teasing him for it. Now though Filip felt a sudden wave of anger and... jealous? It couldn't be, he was too reasonable to allow himself feel anything like this about Y/N.

But he saw her taking Juice's hands and leading him to the dance floor and felt another bite of jealosy in his chest. Chibs hated seeing Y/N being with someone else even if it didn't mean anything. He turned away from the dancefloor and rubbed his eyes tired.

"Jesus Christ" Filip mumbled to himself as he was trying to come to terms with the discovery he had about himself. For years his heart was silent and now it woke up and was speaking louder than ever before. And from all women he met in his life it was for Y/N. The only woman Chibs couldn't have.

Soon enough Y/N came up to him and leaned against the bar counter, her breath heavy after dancing. Smiling gently she looked up at him.

"Are you having fun?" She asked, making him smirk in a bitter way.

"Aye. Kinda" Chibs replied as he looked at her, feeling his heart race. She was stunning, tempting, she was making his body react instantly with only one look at her. Yet all of it had to be kept in secret. Not only she was off limits because of her father. He was sure such a young beauty would never look at him in this way.

"Kinda?" Y/N frowned and moved closer to him, her shoulder against his "You can't trick me, Filip. What's going on?"

'YOU' was what his mind crying out. But Chibs only shook his head and gave her a smile. If he was good at something it was hiding his feelings from everyone, wearing a mask of tranquility and confidence.

"I'm just tired, lass. Don't worry" Filip finally said looking down at her.

Y/N was so close, her bright eyes looking right into his heart, her pouty lips so tempting, her breath still havy as she was trying to calm down after dancing. With Juice. Was it just an innocent dance or something more? He clenched his jaws and swallowed. The mixture of excitement from her presence and jealous from her flirting with Juice was almost unbearable.

"Okay, Filip... I won't bother you then" Y/N said finally, she grabbed two bottles of beer from the bar and went away.

Chibs turned to see her and as he feared he saw her on the couch, talking to Juice and laughing. He thought that maybe he offended Y/N with hiding something from her. But she was obviously having fun and Filip couldn't force himself to watch it longer. He grabbed the bottle from the bar and made his way to the dorms to hide, allowing Y/N to have fun. He knew Juice would never touch her for the same reason, she was off limits and everyone in the club knew it. But it couldn't make jealous go.

⊹──⊱✠⊰──⊹

Next time when they could talk was in couple of weeks. Chibs was mostly on the runs and hardly spent couple of hours in the clubhouse except for sleeping. The more he was thinking about Y/N the more he knew there was no chance for him to get rid of the feelings he had for her. No matter how much he tried to avoid it he fell for her and couldn't help it. Every time he saw her, his heart was missing a beat and then racing faster. But he knew perfectly well that he had to hide it deep in his heart and he did.

That night he was in his room when he heard some noise outside in the main hall of the clubhouse. Chibs took his gun and went to see what was going on. It was Y/N, she was searching for something in the bar.

"What are ye doing, lass?" Chibs asked as he put his gun down and came closer to her.

"Looking for a drink!" Y/N turned to him and he noticed her eyes were red and swollen.

"Come here, Y/N. Tell me what happened. Drinking is not the best decision" Chibs shook his head frowned and came up to her.

He touched her shoulder with his palm and it made Y/N immediately lean into his touch, wrap her arms around his waist and hide her face on his shoulder. Chibs hugged her, tight and carefully, allowing her to cry. And she did. He didn't know the reasons but he decided to give her time. Holding Y/N in his arms was so good, even though he felt bad about the girl being so upset he couldn't help it. She was so small, so delicate, the warmth of her body setting him on fire instantly. But Chibs was only holding her, his palm gently petting her hair.

"I'm sorry" Y/N sobbed as she finally pulled away from his arms wiping tears from her cheeks and not looking at Chibs.

"Ye don't need to. Tell me what happened, lass? Someone hurt ye?" He asked, almost begged. Filip needed to help her somehow, comfort her. "Come ere"

He took her palm and led her towards the couch, making her seat down and landing next to her. Y/N didn't protest at all, it was obvious how upset she was, how insecure and vulnerable she felt. She raised her eyes at him and sighed.

"It's mom and dad. They made me go to college in San Francisco" She whispered, tears falling down her face again.

Chibs saw how hard it was for her to say it out loud. And he felt his heart breaking. She will move away, have new life, new friends. One day she will meet some fancy guy and forget about the club. Those images were invading his mind, fear consuming him. But it wasn't the right time now. He needed to comfort Y/N.

"Christ, lass" Chibs sighed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her closer, wiping her tears with the other hand "Big city might be fun for ye. You'll have new friends, new interesting life. Safer than this one here"

"I don't want it, Filip. I don't want to go, I don't want any other life" Y/N sobbed again, trying to lean closer as if she felt safer in his arms "I told you, I love this club, this people"

"I know. But ye will see, once ye meet new friends, have classes, ye will love it. And ye can always come back here after ye graduate" Chibs kept talking, trying to support her, make her look different at the situation, but god only knew how hard it was for him when the only thing he really wanted was to beg her to stay.

"Everyone here likes me, and there I will be all alone" Y/N whispered. She wasn't crying anymore but she was scared and uncertain and all Chibs could do was to reassure her.

"It won't take long for everyone there to love ye, lass. Ye're kind, beautiful, clever young girl. Ye will have so many new friends there" Filip whispered and pressed his lips against her foreherad, it was all he allowed himself to do.

They've been talking for awhile more, Y/N still confused, but the more Chibs was supporting her, the more she was curious about this new life she could have. Big city, lots of opportunities. Filip knew it was right for her to stay away from the club, it was getting too dangerous. But it was breaking his heart, he knew he will have to learn to live without her around. Chibs only started feeling alive again and soon the light of his life would be taken away from him.

Soon Y/N fell asleep, exhausted with all the emotion she had experienced that evening. Chibs lifted her carefully and went to Jakson's room where he carefully put her on the bed and covered her with blanket. He wanted to kiss her now more than ever knowing that soon he will lose her. But Filip only kissed her forehead again and it made her smile in her sleep. Then he left the room.

⊹──⊱✠⊰──⊹

She was leaving tomorrow. In past two weeks they had no chance to talk. Y/N was busy with packing up and Chibs had handfull of club issues. He knew it would be early in the morning when Y/N will come to the clubhouse to say goodby and he hoped to have a chance to see her.

"Chibs, I need you and Happy to visit Tacoma chapter. They have some problems there and need our help" Clay found him in the workshop where he was hiding to have some time to think.

"Aye. When?" Deep in his thoughts, Chibs didn't really pay attention to what Clay said untill he heard the answer.

"Now. Happy is ready, waiting to you" Clay shrugged "Call me if you need more people there"

Chibs nodded and went to his room to get ready for the run. He wanted to ask Clay to send someone else but there was no reason for that except for Y/N and he couldn't tell about her. So all he could do was put his cut on, go to the parking and leave toghether with Hap.

They were on the road for several hours when the sunrise lightened the skyes. It was around 6 am, the time when Y/N was supposed to leave. Chibs couldn't be there, couldn't say goodbye and he had no idea if he'll ever see her again. Watching the road ahead he felt his eyes blurring with tears.

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