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kooktrash · 9 months

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seven days to love | jeon jungkook

summary: jeon jungkook is nothing but your obnoxious new coworker who can’t seem to get the hint that you’re not interested. he’s loud, clumsy, and a bit of a player who knows his way with girls. what started off as an immediate physical attraction toward you quickly changed to a full blown crush that jungkook just can’t seem to let go. for seven days the two of you must work together alone at the store and each day jungkook takes as a chance to get you to notice him.

➣ genre/au: coworker jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], co workers au, smut. himbo jk

➣ 14.2k words

warnings: smut. jk is obsessed with reader in a cute way. based off seven music video but he’s as slutty as the lyrics. he’s a gym rat who likes to read comics and talk about y/n. workplace sëx. oral [both receiving]. unprotected bc they’re literally at a record store having sex on the cash counter at the end. slapping. choking. hair pulling. switch jk. reader is insecure in relationships. jk likes to be yelled at. reader hates him but he’s all heart eyes googoo gaga. oc is mean at times but they’re lowkey v similar except Jk Is v clumsy. oc has piercings and tattoo but in a girly pop way

song inspo: seven — jeon jungkook

There was something soothing about reorganizing vinyls to your liking. You like them in a specific order that not everyone can replicate and that’s why it’s your zone. You’re the one in charge of organizing them, not anyone else, so why does Jeon Jungkook keep fucking with them?

“Jungkook!”

He practically jumped over the cashier’s counter to run to you, bumping into a rack of CDs and making a couple fall. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes when he lifted his index finger asking you to wait just one second. Your arms were crossed over your chest impatiently and you watched him pick them up from

the floor and try to reorganize them, only for a couple more to fall.

“Jungkook,” you repeated and this time around he just let them go and went to you with a smile. “Yeah?”

“Did you touch my vinyls again?” You watched as he slowly blinked, eyes shifting to the side as if Taehyung — who was watching the interaction safely in the sound booth — would help him out. Taehyung just smiled and leaned further against the window to get a better look at what he can only presume is Jungkook’s third murder this week.

“Uh, no?” He wasn’t smiling or anything but you could clearly see the way his dimples teased their way out when he looked at what you wore today. His attention drifted away and it took everything in you not to snapp your fingers and make him look back up. Instead you just took a step toward the shelf and tried to continue.

“Really?” You asked as you pointed a finger to a section, “So why is Chemtrails Over the Country Club next to Ultraviolence Deluxe when their releases are seven years apart?”

“Um,” Jungkook scratched the back of his head, “Don’t you color code them?”

“No,” you released a small sigh as you grabbed the vinyl and put it in its rightful spot between Blue Banisters and Norman F****** Rockwell, “I do it by release date.”

“But wouldn’t it be more—“ Jungkook stopped his train of thought when he paid attention to the small twitch in your eye, “You know what, my bad Y/n, I just wanted to make it easier for you but I get it. I wouldn’t want you fucking up my comic book order.”

“Glad, we have a mutual understanding then,” You said with a tight smile, “Don’t touch my vinyls.”

“Got it,” Jungkook smiled, “Hey, so later Taehyung and I are gonna go get some drinks after work, would you like to y’know co—“

“No.”

“That’s cool! Yeah, uh, it was probably gonna be boring!” Jungkook yelled after you as you left him, “Not even worth your time, I get it! I mean, we can do something else if you’re intereste—“

“I’m not,” you said as you dragged a cart full of boxes toward the backroom, “Thanks for the offer though.”

Jungkook watched you leave him with a smile on his face that made him look like a complete idiot because it has become very clear to everyone else that you don’t like him.

“Wow, you’re so pathetic it’s actually funny,” Taehyung laughed as he came running down from the loft. Jungkook lifted his middle finger to him as he tucked his hair behind his ears.

“Am I ugly?” Jungkook asked.

“A little,” Jimin said with a shrug.

“Is that why Y/n doesn’t like me?” Jungkook asked, looking back at his friend.

“Y/n doesn’t like anyone, don't take it personal,” Taehyung said honestly, “But she especially doesn’t like you because you can’t take a hint.”

Jungkook released a dramatic gasp, “What do you mean?”

“Kook, you’ve been working here two weeks already and Y/n has not shown a single ounce of interest in you, give it up already,” Taehyung patted Jungkook on the shoulder reassuringly. Jungkook shook his hand off, “Maybe she’s not good at picking up hints.”

“Or maybe she just doesn’t like you,” Taehyung said, beginning to walk away back to the sound booth where music played from, “Y/n doesn’t like guys who seem like players.”

“But she doesn’t even know me,” Jungkook said, “I’m not a player…”

“Kook, you’ve had zero girlfriends in the past two years yet you always have some girl hanging off of you,” Taehyung told him, heading back upstairs, “Aren’t you messing around with someone right now?”

“Um,” Jungkook scratched the back of his head dumbly, “Yeah Yu—no, uh, Sua, I think, but it’s not really working out. She’s getting a little too clingy for my liking.”

“And now you’re trying to move onto Y/n?” Taehyung asked with a chuckle, swinging the sound booth door open and taking a seat. He flipped some notches on the sound board and a new song began to play, getting broadcasted on their small radio station.

“I mean she’s hot.”

“That’s it?” Taehyung asked with furrowed brows and said, “And that’s why it’ll never work out. You’re not her type.”

Jungkook stayed at the open door until Jimin shooed him away with a flick of his hand and he left.

It’s been about two weeks since he got this job with his close friend. Jungkook had been in search of a job for weeks when he went to Taehyung venting about it. His landlord had upped the price of rent for his one bedroom apartment and told him last minute so it was very unexpected. He already had another job working part time at a fitness center but it wasn’t paying enough so he switched it up. He would like to go back to fitness training but right now he needs to save up and get his shit settled before he makes any changes.

On his first day he only worked with Taehyung and his boss, Namjoon, he didn’t meet you till about two days later and he was immediately attracted to you. You weren’t the only one at work who caught his attention but you’re the main one. The others were cute but you’re the one that gets him a little excited to come to work.

It’s because you want nothing to do with him and he wants to know why. You don’t know him and sure, maybe you can tell that he might be a player but… he’s not a bad guy. You seemed to not like him at all from the get go and it’s not fair . The only people he sees you smiling at are Namjoon and Sungha.

What does he have to do to make you notice him? When he asked Taehyung earlier if he was ugly, it was just a bitter joke. He knows he’s not ugly. He knows that he can be charming and that he can get any girl he wants if he really wanted to, so why is it that the one he is focused on right now won’t even bat an eye in his direction unless it’s to tell him off?

He’ll admit, he does like the fact that you just won’t give him the time of day at all, it’s kinda hot. The way you roll your pretty eyes at him looking annoyed even if he can always find a hint of amusement in them. When you don’t pull your gaze away from his like most girls normally would, you’re not intimidated by him. He can say the most daring verse to you and you’ll just blankly stare at him and scoff. Don’t even get him started on how he feels when you stand there looking up at him because of your height difference and try to tell him off. He knows he’s supposed to feel scolded but he always gets a little giddy on the inside.

Since when was he ever into girls who were a little mean to him?

You never considered yourself a complicated person. If anything, you always felt like an open book, someone who people could easily read and learn about. You’ve only just recently begun to learn that that’s not the case at all, that in truth you are a very difficult person to read while also being predictable. It was all a jumbled mess and no matter how hard your friends tried explaining it to you right now you were a little too drunk to understand.

“I just can’t tell what you’re thinking half the time,” Jimin slurred on his words a bit as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into him. You scrunch your face in disgust trying to put some distance between you as he went on, “I mean… I’ve seen you turn down like three guys in the last hour. You mean to tell me not a single one of them interested you?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you looked around the club curiously, “Did a single one of them look interesting?”

Jimin didn’t say anything, taken back by your straight response and by the time he had figured out what to say, Sungha was pummeling right through him, “Oh my god, you won’t believe who I just saw!”

“Who?” Jimin asked as the two of you immediately forgot about your previous conversation.

It was a Saturday night and you were out drinking with your friends but at one point it became a small intervention between you and Jimin where he would tell you what was wrong with you. To be clear, there’s nothing wrong with you.

You haven’t been in a relationship in a while but that doesn’t mean you’ve completely shut men off. There’s been a few exceptions but you’ve learned that you are a very picky person. It’s not your fault that you know what you like and what you don’t. Sure, sometimes it might be a bit much but that’s why you choose to stay single. No real man is ever going to fit your male fantasy so why bother even going out with one?

You enjoy coming out with your friends at the end of the week to forget all the stress from work and school but that didn’t mean you had to entertain whatever bozo came offering up some short pick up line or cheap drink. You’re still trying to get Jimin to understand that.

“Jungkook!” Sungha squealed drunkenly, “I only saw him in passing but he was with some people.”

“I thought it was someone important,” you sighed, rolling your eyes, you waved her off, “Whatever, I’m gonna get another drink. Are you guys fine here?”

“Go ahead,” Jimin said, “I don’t want to lose our table.”

You left your two friends behind as you headed toward the bar at once more to get something to drink. Part of you felt a little wary now that Sungha has very enthusiastically said how she ran into Jungkook. What if you ran into him too? That would be so awkward. You already had to see him at work every day and you’re just not interested in having to deal with him outside of work too.

It’s not that you hate him, he amuses you with his weird antics but it’s just too much. You can’t tell if he follows you all around all day because he’s into you or if that is just how he usually is. He seems to be a player so this could just be how he is and he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. You’re not sure why he seems to always be at your side even when you’re very clearly annoyed by him, but he just never backs down. It’s exhausting even if you do think he’s attractive and charming.

When you got to the bar, some guy helped you cut through the crowd of loitering people and you were able to put your drink order in, taking note of the circular bar at the center of the room. It went all the way around and as you trained your eyes along the circular bar, your gaze landed on someone directly across from you on the other side of all the drinks.

So, Jungkook really is here.

You meant to look away but you found yourself taking in the sight of everyone surrounding him. He was turned away from you so all you saw was his side profile but you knew it was him either way. He was busy talking with two girls who laughed at everything he said and you’re sure he’s probably flirting his way through to their numbers. There were some guys around him who you assume are his other friends but he was entertaining the girls without any worry for his friends.

Just as you were busy studying the pretty girls he was talking to, you looked back at him, his dark eyes meeting yours and you quickly looked away. He just caught you staring, shit.

You could leave and disappear through the crowd to ignore his watching eyes but the bartender was still trying to make your drink so there was nowhere else to go. From the corner of your eye, you could see him lean down and whisper something to all the girls before he was pointing at you and you curiously look back. Jungkook bit back a smile with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip as he began walking away from them and heading around the bar.

The bartender came back and you quickly took out your card to hurry up and pay and you tapped your foot anxiously like it would speed up the process. You wanted to leave before Jungkook got to you.

Maybe you were overthinking it or overly confident but in reality maybe Jungkook won’t even come to you with any of his usual shenanigans. You’re outside of work and he could be a completely different person. Maybe at work you’re the only one he can entertain himself with and—

“I was wondering if I was gonna get to see you too,” Jungkook’s voice boomed over the loud music and you jumped in surprise as the bartender gave you your card back and receipt. You looked back at him, “What?”

Jungkook smiled sweetly at you as you finally left the bar and he went with you, “I saw Sungha earlier so I was wondering if you would be around here too.”

“Were you? You seemed kinda preoccupied with something else,” you blurred out before you could stop yourself, releasing a sigh when you saw him following you.

Not different from work at all.

“Oh? So you were watching, for a second I thought I was getting ahead of myself, usually you don’t pay any attention to me,” Jungkook said teasingly and you found yourself rolling your eyes like you normally would.

“Poor you,” you said as you looked around for Jimin and Sungha but stopped. Did you really want to bring him to them? Sungha would understand, sure she thinks it’s cute that Jungkook seems to be into you but Jimin would read too into it. He’s always looking for some sort of gossip and you bringing around Jungkook would definitely raise questions after scolding you for not paying attention to any guys.

“Why’d we stop? You want to dance?” Jungkook asked, looking as everyone seemed to dance or grind on each other. You were practically on the dance floor and he was intrigued. His hand touched your lower back as if to guide you but you whipped around to face him, so close that his breath hitched, feeling like he was just caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

“Your friends are probably wondering where you went,” you said, trying to hint that he should probably go already but he just smiled down at you with his bunny teeth on display.

“I told them I was gonna be with my favorite person in the world,” Jungkook said and you rolled your eyes with a huff in annoyance.

“Don’t you get tired of always joking around?” You asked suddenly, making his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you always joke like that at work but you don’t have to act like this if we see each other in public. We’re not friends, I wouldn’t be mad if we didn’t acknowledge each other,” you gave him a shrug of his shoulders looking up at him.

He slowly blinked in thought, like he still didn’t understand what you meant and that made you smile. You brought a hand up to his shoulder, fixing his silver necklace as you said, “I’ll see you at work?”

“Huh?” Jungkook asked as he brought a hand up to touch yours but you moved it away. You waved, beginning to walk away, “Bye, Jungkook.”

“Bye?”

MONDAY

Taehyung stared at Jungkook unimpressed. He was finally at work again and he was filling in his dear friend on the events of the weekend. He’s just told Taehyung about how he saw you looking at him and he went to hang out with you only for you to just tell him bye. Once again, you didn’t even try.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Taehyung said as he reclined back on his spinning chair, “Y/n doesn’t like players.”

“But I wasn’t even doing any—“

“What were those girls trying to talk to you about?” Taehyung asked with a raised brow as Jungkook tried to think for a second.

Well, the girls came up to him just after he had gotten drinks for him, Jin and Yoongi and they just started randomly talking to him. They asked if he worked out a lot and it was definitely flirty but what did Jungkook do back? Okay.. he did flirt back but not because he was feeling one of the girls. That’s just how he is, he was just flirting to flirt and nothing more. How was he supposed to know you were watching?

Is this why you thought he was a player?

Oh my god, did you think he was a slut?

“Alright, so what should I do for Y/n to take me seriously?” Jungkook watched Taehyung stand up as he began to turn off his sound system and clean up his work area. Taehyung sighed in thought as he grabbed his backpack out of the closet and packed up his belongings, “Do you actually like Y/n? Because if you’re doing this because you’re bored it’s just going to ruin it for everyone at work.”

Jungkook looked taken back by the question and he had to think about this for a second. What exactly did Taehyung mean?

Yeah, he likes you. Well at first he just thought you were really hot and he still does but that’s not it. He likes that he can’t read you. At first he thought you were this cute chick he was going to work with who seemed to dress brightly sometimes and smiled sweetly when you wanted to. He thought you would have a cute personality.

Then he saw that tattoo tucked behind your ear. It was a straight line of hearts in red ink and it was cute but he did see you a bit differently after that. Especially when you came in wearing a dress one day and he found another tattoo on your back between your shoulder blades that he’s sure went all the way down your spine. He couldn’t tell what that one was but that made him more curious about you. The night of the party he found a new one. Tucked underneath the small strap of your top was a tattoo on your collarbone. It seems like maybe a quote or song lyric but it looked so good on you and he just got more and more curious.

Do you have more tattoos? What about more piercings? Your ears seem to have a good handful of piercing too and your nose is pierced too but was that all? Maybe he couldn’t see where else you might have a piercing and jeez that just drives him absolutely insane.

Your music taste makes him curious too. He realized you’re very territorial over your Lana Del Rey vinyls and some other artists too but he wants to know your favorite songs and how many concerts you’ve gone to. He wants to know if you like any of the same artists and if so should he make you a mixtape of all his favorite songs?

“I like Y/n,” Jungkook finally admitted and this time around he looked serious about it. Even Taehyung seemed to pause and stare at his friend waiting for him to crack a smile but he didn't and with a deep breath he decided to offer up an idea.

“Maybe you can show Y/n you’re serious, only be about her,” Taehyung said swinging his bag on and heading toward the door, “That means stop flirting with other girls, You probably proved to Y/n that you’re a flirt the other night so you’ll need to stop that if you want her to take you seriously. I’m not saying it’ll help but it might.”

Jungkook nodded his head in acknowledgment and Taehyung had absolutely no doubt in his mind that his friend was taking mental notes. He left his lofted sound booth and Jungkook followed him down the staircase to the main floor. The way the store was set up, it looked like a modernized warehouse.

Up on the loft was where Namjoon’s office was and where Taehyung broadcasted music in store and on the local radio. The loft overlooked the main floor where you and the others usually worked.

Jungkook was in charge of comics and manga, you were in charge of vinyls, Sungha was in charge of movies, Hoseok’s area was CDs and cassettes. You all had a specific station that made the store run smoothly and switch on and off of who did register, tonight it was your turn and you had to close with Jungkook all by yourself.

“Alright, I’m off,” Taehyung said as he got behind the counter and clocked out, “I’ll be back Sunday and Namjoon is back on Monday, Sungha and Hobi will do morning shifts but you two have to close so please, and I’m literally begging, Y/n don’t kill Jungkook. At least not till we’re back, I don’t think I can train another person after Jungkook.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes though he blushed at the reminder of when his friend trained him. He accidentally logged a bunch of things wrong during their weekly inventory and it took days to fix. You actually smiled, also remembering it, it annoyed the hell out of you back then but you realized it wasn’t entirely his fault that he didn’t know how to do it. It was just funny for Taehyung to bring it up again. Jungkook watched you smile and it made him smile too as he leaned against the counter just the way you did.

“Bye guys,” Taehyung waved goodbye as he prepared himself for a week-long trip in Daegu visiting his family and friends back home. Namjoon went on some business owner retreat where they attended boring seminars and connected with other businesses to trade and learn how to better their business not just for themselves but for the neighborhood.

“Bye,” Jungkook waved cheerily as he moved to the side to let you check some customers out.

Around this time of night there weren’t that many people coming in but there were a few. The store was open early in the morning and closed late at night every day. Namjoon’s reasoning for this? There’s a couple coffee shops around here and usually people like to come in and browse their music to pass time, you’ll especially see couples and teens in here. At night there’s bars and restaurants a few streets down and usually people come in looking to rent movies so they’re open till 11:00pm every night. Jungkook had about three more hours with you.

“So, how’d you wake up yesterday? Were you hungover at all?” Jungkook asked as the customers left and there was a small gap in time where you were the only two people in the store. You had already walked away from the counter, most likely to recover the floor such as fix displays or put things back where they go instead of just shoved wherever a customer decided to leave it. Jungkook began to copy you.

“No,” you said, turning your back to him as you moved a few CDs back where Hoseok usually has them and ignoring how Jungkook was trailing a few feet behind you acting like he was doing the same.

Jungkook nodded, not giving up even if it was clear you didn’t want to talk to him. You were already leaving the CDs to go check on your vinyls and he was going down the next aisle to act like he wasn’t just following you, “Same, I never really get hungover. I can actually hold my liquor pretty well.”

You raised your brows acting interested and just as you were about to round the corner you came face to face a black vinyl with a white sound wave on it. Arctic Monkeys’ AM album. Jungkook was hiding behind it and he peaked around the large square and smiled cheekily, “Can we listen to this?”

You wanted to say no but you didn’t really have a reason to. You just nodded your head and left to Taehyung’s sound booth again with Jungkook hot on your trail. You pointed a finger down, “Stay here in case customers come.”

“Bu—“ his words caught in his throat when you glared at him and he just nodded looking defeated as he watched you head upstairs without him acting like a clingy puppy who can’t leave you alone.

You got on the monitor and tried to search for the album so that you wouldn’t damage any of the actual vinyls. You scrolled through the songs and hit shuffle, queuing up a song that didn’t explain what you wanted to tell Jungkook but it’ll at least ring a bell in his noggin.

Jungkook smiled as you finally came back down to him and he paid close attention, unintentionally singing the exact line you wanted him to hear.

“I wanna grab both your shoulders and shake, baby, snap out of it,” Jungkook sang happily and you smiled in clear amusement as he sang to his heart’s content, completely missing the fact that you’re telling him to snap out of this little crush he seems to have on you.

He’s not your type and you’re sure you’re not his. He’s just bored.

Your smile seemed to drop just as his began to widen as the next song shuffled in began to play. The lyrics were sort of ridiculous but at the same time stupidly romantic and Jungkook immediately went into a dramatically serious mode as he sang.

“Secrets I have held in my heart,” he sang softly and you were surprised to hear what a pretty voice he had as you went back to sit behind the counter just watching him sing, “Are harder to hide than I thought.”

Jungkook wasn’t even paying that much attention as he subconsciously followed you, standing in front of the counter and playing with some of the small knick knacks for sale like miniature record player figurines and cardboard cassette models, “Maybe I just wanna be yours, I wanna be yours, I wanna be…”

His words cut off when he found you looking at him and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. His face flushed red in embarrassment when he realized you were still looking at him and like usual, you didn’t shy away by pulling your gaze from his. The night of the club was the first time you ever looked away first and he didn’t like that, he’s more used to staring into your eyes.

“I didn’t know you could sing,” you said casually like it was no big deal and at the sound of the first compliment you’ve ever given him, he accidentally knocked down the pyramid of cassette models making you both scramble to catch them all but they fell anyway. You released a deep breath with a roll of your eyes at the mess he made and Jungkook managed to hit his head on the counter when he tried picking it up, debating if he should just flatten himself against the floor and wait for it to just sink him in until he was nothing but hardwood panels—maybe then he’ll quick being a mess.

“Just a little, I just…” Jungkook shrugged, unsure of how to finish what he was saying, still embarrassed, especially when he looked up and found you smiling a little wider.

Even in his clearly hot mess of a state, he smiles too knowing that he’s made you smile an actual smile.

As if realizing you were being soft on Jungkook, you immediately straightened out your expression out of fear that he would think he’s growing on you.

He is growing on you but that’s not the point.

You don’t want to give him a sliver of hope that something will spark between you two. He’s not your type and you’re not interested in entertaining any guy at the moment. Especially not one like Jungkook who grabs everyone’s attention and can have whoever he wants.

You saw it the other night. Girls throw themselves at him so he’ll surely grow bored of pursuing someone who wants nothing to do with him.

It’s only natural.

TUESDAY

Considering the store opened 10am and closed at 11pm, it meant that there were a lot of work hours during the week to get through. Sungha and Hobi usually clocked in around 9am to get the store ready for open and by about 4pm their shift was up and you and Jungkook would clock in. Usually your schedules were a little more unorganized but since both Namjoon and Taehyung would be gone it meant that the four of you had to cover the rest and since you had morning summer classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, you had to work night time. Jungkook said he would cover the evening shift too just to be with you.

During the day he’ll just lounge around waiting to come to work and go to the gym and do some workouts or boxing. By the time he came into work he was clean and dressed to impress you but today he didn’t seem to have much luck for it.

He was running late and didn’t have time for a proper shower at home and ended up having to wash up at the gym. He got stuck wearing a black compression shirt that he had extra in his bag and a pair of gray sweats.

“Why do you kinda look like Toji from Jujutsu Kaisen?” Sungha asked as he walked in ready to clock in. He looked down at himself and how ridiculously he looked, “I was running late.”

“Yeah well you look like a slut,” Hoseok joked walking up to him and suddenly smacked Jungkook’s chest, hitting his pecs which were clearly visible through the compression shirt along with his abs. Jungkook immediately brought a hand up to his chest with a groan as the rest of you laughed, “Put your man boobs away.”

“Fuck off, I didn’t have time to run home for clothes, all of you can scatter,” Jungkook said rolling his eyes before looking at you, “Except you, Y/n.”

You scoffed with a smile, “Thanks, now stop harassing Jungkook, his body, his choice and if he wants to look like a slutty gym rat he can!”

Jungkook smiled giddily now, “Yeah! What Y/n said, if I wanna look like a slutty gym rat then I can. Hobi you’re mad I have more muscles than you and Sungha you’re mad I have bigger boobs than you.”

Sungha came tunneling toward Jungkook, “Say that again, brat! I’m your noona, show me some respect.”

“Only person I respect is Y/n,” Jungkook said as she clenched his shirt in her fists, “So stop groping me. Aren’t you two off already?”

“Let’s go Sungha,” Hoseok said with a shake of his head. You waved them goodbye and Jungkook finally got behind you to clock in. You moved to the side to give him space but he only moved closer with a childish smile, “Hi, Y/n.”

“Hello Jungkook,” you said as you left the counter. It was Jungkook’s turn on the register and you were very thankful for that. It was shipment day which meant you had to check in all the boxes delivered first then check in every item in the boxes and get them put away. Considering Jungkook messed it up last time you wanted to do it.

You left to the backroom to begin to bring boxes out and Jungkook followed you, carrying more than one to the counter. Hoseok and Sungha managed to get some done but didn’t get to finish so it was your turn.

You checked in a box of comics and began taking everything out with Jungkook’s help. A small laugh left your lips, “Look, new manga and one is Jujutsu Kaisen. Let’s see if you really do look like Toji.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes but couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered by you keeping on the running joke, his hand went to his chest still sensitive from Hobi’s slap. He’ll have to get back at him soon.

A group of customers came swarming in and the two of you had to focus on work.

By the time night rolled around and the store was ready to close, you were on your phone a lot. Jungkook tried talking to you but you would barely bat an eye in his direction and it made him a bit sad. A bunch of girls would come in giggling trying to compliment them and for the first time ever, Jungkook didn’t entertain it. He simply helped them with whatever they needed and went back to the register.

At closing time you closed up the register while he recovered the floor and the two of you were able to leave at a timely manner. Jungkook twisted his key around in his hand as he watched you lock the front door, “Where are you headed? I’ll give you a lift.”

“I’ll get the bus,” you said, standing straight and staring down the street. You were always hot and cold with him. One second you would be smiling and joking and the next you would barely acknowledge that he was even there. Yesterday you talked to him but today you didn’t pay any attention to him aside from when the other two were here. Jungkook practically ran after you, “Then I’ll walk with you, it’s late anyway.”

“It’s fine, I always leave by myself,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Here he is not leaving you alone again. Jungkook shook his head no, defying, “I want to walk with you though.”

“I don’t need you to though.”

“But,” Jungkook huffed, “But you barely paid any attention to me an—“

“Are you always this clingy?” You whipped around to ask, once again so close that Jungkook had to take a step back to keep from bumping into you.

“Yes,” Jungkook said casually, “Well no but I want to make sure you get back safely. Plus it looks like it might rain an—“

“Fine! Hurry up and take me home then,” you sighed, giving up. You forgot that the forecast said 80% chance of rain and knowing your luck you’ll be stuck in it before the bus even gets here.

Jungkook nodded enthusiastically, “Alright, come on. I’ll even give you aux.”

He drove a shiny black Mercedes and he was strangely kind enough to open your door for you, making you sigh as you got in his car. You keep telling yourself he’s just being nice or that he’s just trying to get some but every day he shows you a different side of him that you’re not used to.

Yesterday it was that he can sing.

And today it was his music taste, he was surprisingly a pop music guy who liked Charlie Puth.

“I just didn’t expect you to like that kind of music. I expected you to be more into hard rock or something,” You told him. You were already close to your apartment and you acted like you didn’t notice the way he slowed his driving down to stall your departure.

“For the gym, I do, usually Deftones, maybe a little bit of Pierce the Veil but usually I like more upbeat sounds,” Jungkook told you. He was surprisingly a lot calmer when it was just you two and he wasn’t chasing you around the store. His voice was more relaxed and he didn’t seem to be in a rush to get close to you.

You looked ahead as he slowed down a little more, “Right here is fine.”

“Okay,” Jungkook said softly, looking down at his lap in thought. How could he get you to stay a little longer?

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Jungkook cleared his throat and for a second you debated listening or not. What if he said something ridiculous like he tends to? It would ruin a good night.

“Yeah?”

“How many tattoos do you have? I’ve seen three but something tells me that’s not it,” Jungkook said curiously, “And can I see them?”

“Not all of them,” you told him, “But I have six, just small ones here and there. Not as many as you though.”

He smiled, “Yeah, I still want more.”

“Which ones are your favorite?” You found yourself asking, not leaving yet. Jungkook him in thought as he looked over the ones you could see.

“Not sure, I love them all,” he said before looking back at you, “Which one of mine do you like the most?”

Your brows furrowed in concentration but it was so dark you could barely see. Jungkook pushed on the overhead light and for some reason it made the small confines of his car feel more intimate than when they were off.

“This one,” you pressed your index finger to the flower on his arm, “What is it?”

“My birth flower, I just got it colored,” Jungkook said proudly, “And I drew it myself so I feel really special to know it’s your favorite.”

He looked over at you with a smile and sparkly eyes that had you realizing just how close the two of you had gotten. You were both leaning into each other to look at his tattoos and suddenly this didn’t feel so casual.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, moving back to u buckle your seatbelt, “Alright well I guess it’s time I get out. See you tomorrow.”

“I can pick you up!” Jungkook said as you opened the door, “Before work I mean, we go in at the same time anyway and—“

“I’m good, but thanks for the offer,” you said getting out and just before you closed the door, you bid him Goodnight.

He sat in his car waiting for you to make it into your building softly and when you got to the door you turned and waved back at him one more time. He couldn’t help but immediately get on his phone.

jungkook: my fav tattoo of urs is the one on ur back

WEDNESDAY

You must be out of your mind for being here right now. After begging you all day to come out for just one drink, you got tired of telling him no and found yourself sitting at a bar with Jungkook to your left.

“So you’re taking summer classes so you can graduate a little earlier?” Jungkook asked, playing with the wrapper of his straw. You really don’t know how you got here but now you’re being interrogated by Jungkook with 21 questions as he tried to get to know you better.

“That’s the plan but I think I’m still a little behind, what about you? Did you go to school?” You asked him casually.

Jungkook was a few years older than you. He was 25 and you were still 21 so if he went to school he was probably done by now if he got a bachelor’s or even an associate’s degree. Jungkook was quiet for a moment before he said, “I did but I dropped out. I didn’t know what I wanted to do and I didn’t have money to keep going even with financial help.”

You nodded understandingly. The only reason why you were still in school was because you got a little bit of help but you would still be going in debt because of it. You didn’t know what to do either so you chose to major in business because it was a broad enough course of study that you still had a few options. He looked over at you almost embarrassed but you just gave him a reassuring smile, “School’s not for everyone.”

“I wish a lot more people understood that,” Jungkook said, “It still stresses me out knowing majority of my friends graduated. I know Jimin and Hobi still work here and they’re older but at the same time they’re pursuing their interests differently. Hoseok teaches dance classes on the side and Jimin does vocal coaching but I’m just… y’know I’m still trying to figure things out. In the future I would like to own my own fitness center but I’ll probably have to go back to school for that or at least find other ways to be certified.”

“I’m sure Joon would help you figure out how to run a business,” you offered and it did reassure him that you seemed to understand him better. Jungkook has never really talked about this sort of stuff with a girl. Usually it’s all superficial and he’s not sure how this conversation came about but he’s surprisingly really thankful for it. You’re younger than him by four years but you just seem so much more with the way you think.

You don’t have your life figured out either but you seem to have an understanding that not everyone works the same and you don’t make him feel smaller for not having a college degree.

He really is more into you than he first thought. He’ll never deny the fact that the main reason he was after you was because he found you attractive but now that’s it’s just you two this week you’ve had no choice but to talk to him and he’s been really able to get to know you better.

“Y/n, I was thinking—“

“Jungkook?”

His body froze as his words caught and he debated for a second not turning around. The lounge bar was small and quiet so he wanted to come here to talk to you better, he didn’t expect to run into anyone he knew. Especially not Sua who stood behind him with a tight smile and raised brows. He looked to you but you looked to her and he had to turn to see her, “Sua.”

“Nice to see you out and about,” Sua said but he could hear the strain in her voice, “After two weeks of not talking I thought maybe something happened but you seem to be doing just fine.”

You looked away, figuring this has nothing to do with you and instead went on your phone as you listened in on how Jungkook would get himself out of this situation.

Just when he started growing on you, you’re reminded that he’s just a man and he’s still a player, probably trying to get in your pants before he moves on to the next. Why has he been trying so hard for three weeks if he was still going to have girls on the side? You don’t think this is a former girlfriend but she’s definitely someone he used to mess around with. He doesn’t seem like the relationship type anyway.

“Uh, yeah,” Jungkook said looking back to you but you weren’t paying attention anymore. This was awkward enough for him but if you started ignoring him again, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle it.

Sua has never been more than a fling. They didn’t go on dates or call each other 24/7, they only ever talked when they were looking to get drunk and possibly hook up. Even then it’s been about two weeks since he’s spoken or texted a single word to her so for her to just pop out of nowhere and remind him that he’s… well, a player [?] while you’re sitting next to him and he’s trying to get you to like him, it just doesn’t sit well with him.

Sua looked to you expectantly like you would introduce yourself to her but you’ve got no intention to do that. You don’t know her and you don’t owe her anything. She’s a complete stranger and she’s Jungkook’s problem not yours. You just looked back at her while she waited for you to crack but you weren’t at all intimidated and when she realized that she just rolled her eyes.

“Alright, well call me when you’ve had your fun,” Sua said, stomping away before Jungkook could say another word.

It went quiet between you two and the once light atmosphere became thick and heavy. He looked down, mentally cursing at himself for not being up front right now. He should’ve just told Sua it was done but he thought it was obvious when he stopped responding to her hundred texts. Also, he wasn’t sure how you would feel about him suddenly doing that.

With a deep breath he looked up at you apologetically, “I’m sorry, Y/n, I didn’t kn—“

“It’s late,” you said, checking the time. Half past 1:00am and you were ready to end it, “Let’s call it a night. I can get an Uber so you don’t have to waste your time driving me home.”

“No, Y/n, I want to take you home,” Jungkook said when in reality he wanted to stay and talk more. He might be a bit slow sometimes but right now he knows that whatever opening you were beginning to make for him immediately shut when Sua came.

In the end you let him drive you home since it was so late but you didn’t talk to him much. He tried making small conversation but you were back to barely acknowledging him and it was really getting to him. Is he back to square one?

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was deeper than usual and lacked any of that weightless aura around it. Usually he was joking or energetic but right now not so much. He was in front of your building again and was watching you begin to unbuckle your seatbelt sadly, “What should I do?”

Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as you say in his car, “What do you mean?”

“What should I do to get you to notice me?”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, the two of you just staring at each other. What did he mean?

Jungkook leaned back against his seat as he waited for you to say something but you just stayed quiet. His eyes went from yours down to your nose ring, then your parted lips. It’s getting harder and harder for him not to look at them, they just looked so inviting even if you didn’t. He just wanted to kiss you so bad, maybe it’ll tell him if this is worth it all.

He’s always been the one to go based on physical touch. When he usually kisses someone, he’s not looking for that electric current to run through his veins but he’s looking for something that might make him want to do it again. Right now, any time he even thought about you it was unlike anything he’s felt in a long time. What if when you two kissed, he really does feel the butterflies in his stomach?

He’s not sure when this seemed to happen but he found himself just a few inches away from you. You looked down at his lips too and he wondered if you were also itching for a kiss. Deciding he wanted to test it out, he leaned the rest of the way and just before your lips touched…

“Doesn’t seem like you need me to notice you,” you said before your lips could touch and he didn’t realize his eyes had fallen shut until you said, “You have a lot of people who already do and I don’t like the idea of fighting for someone’s.”

“Y/n, that’s not what I mean—“

You slammed his car door shut and left like the two of you didn’t almost kiss.

THURSDAY

“You’re so mean.”

Your jaw dropped as you stared at the two in front of you, “How?”

“Well, it sounds like this guy has really been trying and you make him think he has a chance only to shut him down each time,” Jimin said, spinning in his desk chair as the three of you talked in his bedroom.

“That’s not true,” you argued back as you laid in his bed ranting about the past week with Jungkook.

You have to admit, he confuses you.

He’s just so… persistent but at the same time you can’t find it in yourself to consider him genuine. One second you think he is and the next you’re reminded that he’s very well sought after. That girl from last night was proof of it and if they talked just two weeks ago and Jungkook just stopped talking to her… then what happened?

He started working with you all three weeks ago and since the beginning he’s been on your ass, following you around like a puppy and annoying the shit out of you. Sure, she said it had been two weeks since he last spoke to her but that didn’t mean it was because of you. For all you knew, he had other girls satiating his needs and he just wasted his time on you at work.

You were filling in your closest friends on the past week but Jimin never seems to understand where you’re coming from. You’ve known him the longest and he knows all of your past dating experience better than anyone. You used to be the type to fall in love easily only to get your heart broken each time. After a while it got exhausting and you just stopped trying, now you’re closed off and you know it’s a problem but you can’t help it. What if you fall for another loser who just wants to play with your heart and then break it when they get bored?

You sighed, “Sungha, is that true?”

She sunk further into the beanbag she was occupying, like she wanted to hide from the question but when Jimin looked at her too, she spoke, “I mean… Jungkook really does seem like he’s trying. We all know he’s hot and has probably gotten around but he really is putting in the effort. Now I can’t say this is how he is when he’s interested in someone because I don’t know but… he seems to really mean it. Even before this week, he’s always been following you around and if he didn’t see you he would only ever stick to himself in the comics. When you’re there he’s smiling more, I don’t know. I don’t know how genuine he is but don’t act like you can’t see his effort, Y/n, it’s not fair to him.”

You scoffed as you pressed a pillow into your face, “It’s only been a week—“

“And he’s already shown more effort to get to know you in four days than any guy has in the entire relationship,” Jimin said coldly, “Doesn’t that mean anything to you? I don’t even know this guy aside from what you and Sungha have told me and even I could see that. When we went out drinking last week, I saw you two. He was right there beside you and you just shooed him away.”

“We work together, it’s awkward if I give in,” you said and even you knew it sounded like an excuse.

You were being honest though. What if you did let something happen between you? What if you opened up to him and he took you home one night, you hook up, and the next time at work he just ignores you?

“Stop making excuses and just try it,” Sungha said, “Either that or just stop making him think he has a chance by being hot one second and then cold the other.”

Jungkook sat across from his friends at a small rounded table for a late lunch. He hasn’t talked much today which was already strange considering usually he talks their ear off like it’s nobody’s business. Yoongi and Jin shared a concerned look but Jungkook didn’t even notice. He was too busy playing with his food and that was another concern of theirs.

“Everything alright? You haven’t even touched your food, that’s not normal,” Jin said, reaching out a reassuring hand to Jungkook who just rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, “I know things can’t just change in a week, it’s not enough time, but I’m running out of ideas. I’m trying and trying and every time I think Y/n will open up to me, something happens to change that. I don’t think I’ll ever get her to give me a chance.”

“But things are changing, Kook,” Yoongi said, “You said it yourself, Y/n let you take her home and you’ve been talking a lot more during work.”

“That’s because nobody else is around, not because she wants to, she’s just stuck with me for seven hours every day,” Jungkook said as he pushed his plate aside to rest his head on the table feeling absolutely defeated. Neither Yoongi nor Jin have ever met you but the amount of times Jungkook had ranted about you these past couple weeks really felt like they knew you.

You weren’t the quiet type but you weren’t the loud type either. You were somewhere in the middle and depending on the person or occasion, you’ll only show one side of yourself to them.

You like music a lot and though Jungkook’s section is comics and manga, you seem to have a small interest in those too. He always sees you browsing the books and the other day he found you reading a vintage Ironman comic.

You like to joke around a lot even if you don’t do it with Jungkook.

You seem to walk a fine line between organized and messy. Your vinyls are always clean but according to you, you always lag when it comes to cleaning your apartment.

You’re in school for business but you’re not sure what exactly you want to do with that.

You don’t care that he never finished school and you seemed to reassure him over it.

The point is, Jungkook talks about you all the time and every single time they think more and more of how similar you two are. He says you dress cute sometimes but you’ll act so cold. Other times you’ll dress in more dark colors but be the most bubbliest person that day. Just like Jungkook.

“Don’t give up, Koo,” Jin said finally, “You just need to show her that you’re serious. You need to tell Sua you’re done, don’t just ghost her and expect her to get the hint. Y/n probably still thinks you’re messing around with others. It hasn’t even been a full week yet so at least stick it out until Sunday. If by Sunday she still isn’t giving you a chance then maybe you should think about backing down.”

That night he tried to continue and be as bubbly with you as usual even if you barely gave him a response. He didn’t want to seem affected by the way that last night went when you completely blew off his kiss. It was his fault for the bad timing anyway and when he got home from work he called Sua.

He told her that he’s done and that he’s sorry for not saying it sooner but he really wants to pursue a real relationship with you. It upset her because he never wanted the same with her and it made him feel bad but he wasn’t going to back down from his word. He wanted you, nobody else, and he let every girl in his DMs and messages who he hasn’t answered in days know that too.

And by the time you closed, he slid a CD into your bag with some of his favorite songs hoping you’ll understand him better.

FRIDAY

You haven’t given in to him yet but that wasn’t the point anymore. The point for Jungkook was to show you how serious he was about you, so after work when he dropped you off in the cold rain in front of your house, he waited for you to head in like usual.

Usually, he drove home after making sure you got in safely but tonight he couldn’t seem to do that. He sat in his car trying to look at your door through the pouring rain and he just wanted to see you again. He just had seven hours with you but the store was so busy that he didn’t even have time to talk to you. You locked yourself up in Taehyung’s broadcasting room and only came out when the store was too packed for Jungkook to manage on his own.

He debated texting you and asking you to come down and see if you can talk but the debate didn’t last long before he was throwing the idea out of the window. Before he knew it he was turning his car off and running in the rain to your door, searching your last name on the list of tenants and buzzing the number to find you. It was for number seven and he was beginning to think that had a meaning.

Seven days of just you and him at work.

Seven hours working together.

And now your buzzer was number seven too.

It was becoming his favorite number.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, it’s me Jungkook,” he checked the time on his phone, heart skipping a beat, 11:57pm, “I know it’s late and you’ll probably say no but can we talk?”

You were genuinely taken back to know he was down there. He could’ve called you on his phone from his car but instead he was using the buzzer to ring your apartment door, to talk to you. You can even hear the rain in the background and you were saying, “Um okay, I’ll let you in, I’m on the third floor, number 77.”

Seven seven.

The second the door made a clicking sound as it unlocked he was swinging it up and running inside. Just as he reached the staircase, he slipped on the bottom steps, tightly holding the railing as he looked at the track of water he left. Once he caught his balance he was running up the stairs again, only slipping a couple more times before he got to your door.

“Jesus Christ, you’re soaked,” you said once you opened the door and let him in. You looked at him from head to toe, “Wait right here, I’ll get you a towel, take your shoes off.”

Jungkook nodded but he couldn’t help but fidget excitedly as he looked around. Your apartment was an extension of you through and through.

Vinyls in the corner by a record player and books.

Plants by the window, some dying and some thriving.

It was organized minus a few things that seemed out of place and it all just looked so homey.

When you came back he was too focused on the pictures hanging on the wall to notice you until you thrusted a pile of clothes in his waiting arms. You pointed down the hall, “Bathroom to your left, here’s some dry clothes, when you’re done bring your wet clothes out and I’ll toss them into the dryer.”

Jungkook nodded his head and followed orders. Your bathroom smelled like lavender and he eyed all your perfumes trying to pinpoint which scent you used the most. You always smelled so good and he can see why. He quickly got changed into an oversized t-shirt with Lana Del Rey’s face on it and a pair of sweats. The shirt seemed to be yours but he’s not sure about the pants. It didn’t matter to him, they smelled like you and like a creep he was taking in a whiff of your laundry detergent immediately remembering the scent. There was always a faint smell of it on you and it was refreshing and warm.

“Are you smelling my shirt?” You asked standing outside the bathroom. He got caught.

“Uh, yeah?” Jungkook scratched the back of his head, wet curls dropping water onto the shoulders of his shirt, “Sorry, that’s weird.”

You just rolled your eyes and asked him to follow you to where the washer and dryer were hidden behind a closet door. He set his clothes in the dryer and you started it up before walking to the kitchen.

“What were you thinking? You know it’s typhoon season and if you wanted to talk so bad why didn’t you just call in your car, or better yet talk at work?” You asked, pouring hot water into a mug and grabbing a tea bag, “Sugar?”

Even as you scolded him, you worried and he felt his cheeks heat up. You sighed, “What did you need to talk about that you felt the need to stand out in the cold rain and wait for me to answer? What if I was showering or already in bed?”

“I guess I would’ve waited,” Jungkook mumbled a thanks when you handed him the cup of tea and he took a seat on your couch. You just sighed and sat next to him, “What did you want to talk about?”

He refused to look at you and when you asked again, he answered, “Nothing in particular, I just wanted to talk.”

You looked away, “We talked at work.”

“Not enough!” Jungkook finally said looking back at you with doe eyes, “We were so busy and you didn’t really talk to me so I just… I don’t know.”

“Jungkook, it’s late,” you said calmly, “What did you really want to talk about?”

“Why is it so hard for you to believe I just genuinely want to talk to you? It doesn’t have to be about anything specific, I just wanted to see you. I know it’s late and not even I know why I got out and called for you but I couldn’t stop myself,” Jungkook said honestly, “You probably think I can’t get the hint and you’re right.”

You actually laughed at the last part he said and he went on, “I know you’re not into me but I can’t stop myself from wanting to see you and talk to you every chance I have.”

You slumped back on the couch as Jungkook hissed at the way the tea burned his tongue and you immediately jumped up, “It’s hot, you himbo.”

The name just slipped out and you went to apologize but Jungkook just looked at you with starry eyes, “You’ve never called me by a nickname other than the other day when you called me a slutty gym rat. Please keep them coming.”

You looked at him in disbelief as he looked the complete opposite of offended that it made you laugh and with a defeated sigh you asked, “What do you want to talk about?”

“Did you listen to the mixtape yet?” Jungkook asked, “Did you even see it?”

You thought about it for a moment and went to look for your bag. You pulled out the CD with the words, ‘THESE REMINDED ME OF YOU’ scribbled in red sharpie on the front. You’ve never been given a mixtape witn songs dedicated to you and when you first saw it you didn’t know what to make of it so you ended up just shoving it back in your back.

“I haven’t had a chance to listen.”

SATURDAY

Like yesterday, Saturday was just as busy. You barely got to talk but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t steal glances at each other and every time he caught you already looking at him, he would smile and wave even if you were on the loft and he was on the floor.

You still haven’t hinted at possibly wanting to go out with him but he also hasn’t asked. He’s waiting till at least Monday to do so. He’s giving it the week before he pushes for it again. He thinks it’s starting to work, you’re beginning to open up to him. Last night you showed him your collarbone more clearly and you asked him more about his tattoos too. You talked about music and movies and by the time you ran out of things to talk about it was past 3:00am and he left.

Even if he couldn’t stand around and talk to you, he would still try to make you laugh. When you would be fixing CDs, he would be in the next aisle hiding behind them until you pulled them out and found him there.

If you were at the register he was right there next to you bumping his shoulder against yours.

At close he texted you right after dropping you off home. It was the most dumbest things too but he was just giddy talking to you.

jungkook: would u rather be rich and depressed or poor and happy

you: rich and depressed obviously

jungkook: same. would u rather get eaten by a shark or by a cheetah

you: don’t want to get eaten by either :/

you: by a shark. I would probs drown before I’m fully eaten

you: also less chance of survival against a shark in water

jungkook: so u could outrun a cheetah?

you: no, I’ve got lung problems. I’m not surging in other way

jungkook: I could probably outrun a cheetah

you: alright, pack it up turbo. no u can’t.

jungkook: yeah… i cant…

you: It’s late ykno

jungkook: yeahhhhh but one more question

you: what

jungkook: have u changed ur mind about me yet?

He immediately regretted asking and not even a minute later he texted back.

jungkook: u dont have to answer that

SUNDAY

You were beginning to think you were as bad as Jungkook. Not meaning Jungkook was a bad person but because you were realizing that you might be leading him on the way he leads other girls on. This past week you’ve really gotten a chance to see how sweet he is and you did like it.

You liked that though he looked big and scary he was actually genuine and kind. He had a good personality and he never seemed to poke fun at anyone. He was clumsy and a bit slow at times but it was cute. He still annoyed you on occasion but it wasn’t as insufferable as before. It was endearing and last night when he asked if you changed your mind about him yet, you were so close to saying yes. You had changed your mind about him but you were still scared to admit that.

What if Jungkook was one of those people who preferred the chase over the conquest? What if once he realized you kind of liked him too… he would lose all interest. People are like that, you used to be like that and look where that got you.

You lost any motivation to get to know someone after all your failed relationships and in the end you only went after guys who didn’t want you because you knew they wouldn’t ask for anything serious. By the time you found out that they liked you, you would cringe and stop talking to them.

What if Jungkook is like that too?

You finally listened to his mixtape and it was very clear he thought long and hard about which songs he would burn onto the CD and that’s what had you antsy. Was he really serious?

You didn’t mean to avoid him today but it just happened and Jungkook noticed it the second he clocked in and you refused to look at him. Throughout the shift he would try and talk to you and something would suddenly come up or you would be in the back room pretending to be busy all so he wouldn’t talk to you. You confused the yell out of him and after three weeks of it and one week of getting to know you, he was fine.

He was done with your avoidance and by closing time he made it very known.

“So what’s up with you ignoring me today?” Jungkook asked as he finished counting the money in the register for close.

You didn’t respond right away as you fixed a stack of cassettes before finally saying, “What are you talking about?”

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff as he took the cash register out so he could put it back in the safe, “You know what I’m talking about. You didn’t talk talk to me at all today.”

“We were working.”

“So? Suddenly that means you can’t even say hi to me when you clock in?” Jungkook asked and you wanted to answer but you didn’t know what to say. Instead you just watched him head to the back room to put the registers in the safe and return with a more sullen expression. You went back to fixing items in the shelves in order to not look at him. You didn’t know what you wanted right now, he did grow on you but that’s the problem.

You got to know him a lot this week but it’s only been seven days. Sure, seven consecutive days where it’s just been you two majority of the time but you still don’t know him all that well. You don’t know what he’s looking to gain with you and you know that’s really just you projecting your own insecurities and fears to think he just wants to use you but you can’t help it. Your brain isn’t wired to always think on the positive side anymore.

Jungkook kept looking over at you but he couldn’t take it anymore. You don’t owe him an explanation for not being attracted to him but he would like to know why you didn’t like him from the get go. It’s like you had made up your mind before even getting to know him and every single time after the first, you were more closed off from before. Of course he always noticed it but it didn’t start to really drive him crazy until these last seven days. You had begun to open up to him, smile at him more, share stories yet at the same time there were still moments where you seemed like you couldn’t stand him.

He was done with you ignoring him and he walked right up to you as you put a CD away in a high shelf, “Y/n, talk to me, stop ignoring me.”

You turned to face him, caught off guard at how close he’s gotten making you unintentionally took a step back but he took one forward not giving you any chance to focus on anything but him. You chuckled nervously, “Why?”

He looked very visibly upset by you but you just couldn’t stop, “Listen, I just don’t know what you want. Don’t get me wrong, I know you're interested in me or at least you act like you are but if you’re just doing this because you’re bored or—“

Your word caught in your throat as Jungkook’s hands cupped your jaw suddenly. He looked down at your lips, unsure why he moved so quickly but he couldn’t help himself. How could you think he’s just doing all this because he’s bored?

Jungkook licked his lips as he stared down at yours, “I’m crazy about you, not bored.”

You didn’t say anything, and when he began to lean down you couldn’t move. The shelf was pressed against your back and his hands were cupping your face that when he finally kissed you, you were stuck. It was short and sweet but you couldn’t kiss back, too caught off guard and it wasn’t in a bad way, you just couldn’t react right away when he pulled back nervously, “Sorry, I—I shouldn’t have done that.”

Jungkook waited for you to say something and once again he was met with silence. He was at the point of giving up and left you in between aisles to hide from the embarrassment. Maybe he pushed too far, you rejected him over and over again and he still had the nerve to kiss you. He ran his fingers through his shaggy hair, returning to the counter so he could start getting his things to leave.

He tried everything he could and he was exhausted.

“Jungkook?”

You came up to him shyly and he was struggling to not look at you. He was a bit nervous to know what you had to say. What was wrong with him? He��s always had a crazy amount of confidence and he’s never struggled this much to get a girl he likes but why can't you just think about him once? He felt ridiculous to be this hung up on someone who doesn’t want him.

When you finally stood in front of him, he couldn’t help but look down at you, a little scared that you would slap him or something. Before he could utter an apology, your hand was around his neck pulling him down into a real kiss.

It took him a second to understand what was going on but once he did, he completely melted into you, holding your chin in his hand to keep your head angled up to kiss better and another hand go down to your waist. You didn’t back away when he deepened the kiss with his tongue against yours. Your fingers played with the end of his hairs trying to reach him better but it was hard. Jungkook knew this too so he held you by the waist, backing you up toward the lower end of the high counter until it touched your back and picked you up with ease to set you down on it.

You moved your legs apart to allow him to step between them and kissed him eagerly. Jungkook couldn’t hold himself back, lips swelling as he kissed you with such fever that the room felt hot even with all the lights off minus a few dim ones. The record store was completely empty and a shelf of comics was in front of the door so it felt like a maze of art hiding you from anyone’s view. That made it all so much more exciting to know it was just you two.

Jungkook pulled back for a second and smiled when you followed after him, not wanting to break away from the kiss much to both of your surprise. He smiled cheekily, beginning to pull down the zipper of his gray sweater, “Sorry, I’m ho—I mean, it’s hot in here.”

He threw the light gray cloth somewhere to the side and immediately pulled you flush against him for another kiss. The two of you made out like that for a while, not even thinking about the fact that you were still at work.

Your hands can’t get enough of him, they run along his exposed arms and over the thin fabric of his white ribbed cotton tank top that showed off all his muscles and tattoos. You had tried so hard not to acknowledge how unbelievably attractive he was since the beginning but it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done.

Jungkook’s hands tangled in your hair, trailing down the back of your top, middle finger softly caressing the line of your spine at your neck and further down as far as your shirt would let him, kissing you deeply.

You couldn’t help yourself from pulling on the back of his shirt until he got the hint and yanked it off, your eyes immediately traveling down his naked torso. His tattoos went down his side too and didn’t stop until his deep v-line and his stomach was taught with muscles. The compression shirt the other day didn’t do the real thing any justice and that’s that he looked so hot that day you almost folded. Why were you holding yourself back from this again?

Jungkook was unaware of your train of thought, the only thing on his mind was how to get your top off and with your help he was able to raise the shirt off and finally get a better look at you. Just under your bra was another spot of ink in the shape of a flower and vine on your ribcage. He ran his thumb over it softly as he looked up at you, lip rings caught between his teeth and you just smiled, “Birth flower.”

Now he knows why you liked his flower so much and with a breathy smile, he kissed you again, hands caressing the line of your spine once more, imagining what the tattoo on your back was and low fat down it went. He hugged you to him making you scoot to the edge of the counter and before you knew it, he was lifting your hips with ease to pull off your pants. You squealed in surprise when your hips hovered up for a moment as he got them off, never once breaking away from your lips.

Jungkook places a hand on your chest, fingers toying just under your bra, tempted to just push it up and out of his way but he worried he might be moving too fast. You didn’t hesitate in reaching behind your back to uncoil your bra and let it slide off. You never realized how deprived you were of sexual intimacy until you were here and too impatient for Jungkook to move things along. He pulls away from the kiss, running his tongue down your lower lip, trailing it along your jaw, down to your ear, and then to your neck where he sucks a bruise into the skin at the base of your ear, hands finding your breasts and feeling the weight of them.

You tugged at his jeans and Jungkook attempted to pull them down without breaking away from kissing you and to help him out, you unzipped his jeans and helped get them down his hips where he kicked them off without a care and chased after your mouth.

Now that Jungkook understood that you were just as eager as he was, he couldn’t hold himself back. He pulled you to the very edge of the counter till it seemed like you could fall off, and kissed down between your boobs to your stomach, a small ball of metal pressing against his lips when he reached your belly button. Your hand made its way into his hair, moving out of the way as he looked up to you, moving lower and lower between your legs, “Found another.”

You were reminded once more of your past conversation about tattoos and body piercings. Jungkook couldn’t but smirk at the way your gaze darkened when he punched the thin fabric of your underwear between his fingers and began to slide them off. Your lips parted in surprise, hand slipping out of his hair only for him to nuzzle his head close again until you brushed it out of his face. Jungkook came face to face with your wet heat, a smile on his face as he said, “Did I make you this wet? We haven’t even done anything.”

It was still all strange to you. Out of all the girls, he put himself through your hot and cold attitude because he wanted you. He chose you and now here you were letting him make you feel good yet being just as obnoxious as usual.

You rolled your eyes, already feeling that tinge of annoyance you used to always have with him, “Shut up.” You didn’t mean it in your usual pissed off way, but more so you didn’t want to prove him right. You could’ve been doing this all along.

Your words end in a moan when his tongue first teases a lick across your clit, his eyes were on your face as he watched you closely, repeating the motion again and again as your breasts rose and fell. Jungkook wraps his hands around your thighs, shifting them onto his shoulders and tightening his grip on them when you try to move away from the intensity of it. Your hand accidentally pulled on his hair making his whole head move with the motion yet his mouth never once moved away. His tongue lapped hungrily at your slit as he stimulated your labia with the sides. His nose bumped against your clit every now and then and when you yanked on his hair it made his eyes roll just slightly.

Jungkook has come to the conclusion that he could eat you out all night and he plans on doing that soon but right now his back is starting to hurt from being hunched over your pussy and he couldn’t take it. He pulled away with a small line of slick connecting his lips to your heart but neither of you seemed to care when his mouth was on yours.

You could feel Jungkook’s covered bulge hit against your sensitive wet cunt and he felt hard. His dick made a pretty outline in his Calvin Klein’s and you stuck a hand between your hot, naked bodies and tried sliding his boxers down.

A soft groan left Jungkook’s left at the first feel of your hand touching his hard cock. He still had a hand between your legs, middle finger teasing your entrance that when your palm rubbed against the tip of his member, he pressed it deeper until he felt the warmth of your pussy on the fingertip.

You released a soft moan as he pulled his middle finger out before thrusting it back in teasingly, he looked sleepy but you knew it was all lust in his gaze. You were no longer kissing and his eyes were on yours, his lips were parted with shaky breath when you fisted his length and began to stroke him up and down. His one finger became too when your thumb rubbed across his leaking slit before spreading the precum all of his head and gliding your hands back down to his base, repeating the motion over and over again.

Jungkook hissed in pleasure when you massaged his bells before jerking him off a bit more roughly than before, his two fingers sped up their thrusts while letting his palm rub against your clit, “We could’ve been doing this so much sooner.”

You didn’t say anything as you let his hips buck into your closed fist fucking his cock into your hand, making your legs shake with how good his fingers felt, “I’m close.”

“Mm,” Jungkook hummed pressing his forehead against yours, “I need to feel you, baby, please can I fuck you yet?”

You looked away from his eyes first and without a word guided his raw dick to your entrance and moaned when he pushed in slowly. You’re both very aware that you weren’t using a condom but in your haste to have him inside you, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“F-Fuck” You both moan when he pressed his pelvis against your spread thighs, his cock all the way in letting you adjust to the sudden stretch before moving. You swung your legs around his waist, pulling him a little closer when his hand snuck behind your waist and pulled you into him. With your arms around his neck, clinging to him, he was able to bring his other hand down to your hips and hold you in place as he began to fuck you slowly. Jungkook watches your face contort with the pleasure of having him inside you and it makes his chest swell with warmth. You looked so fucking pretty releasing quiet moans with each thrust of his cock into your tight pussy, “You’re so damn pretty, Y/n.”

You tug at his hair fucking your hips back onto his thick length, “I know.”

Your response caught him off guard and he couldn’t help but smile when you did. He leaned forward to kiss you but just before his lips could meet yours, you pulled on his hair a little harder now, hand sliding around his neck and you felt the way his cock seemed to throb inside you when he groaned in pleasure. Your hand tightened at just the right pressure points on his neck slightly, dragging him into a hungry kiss that nearly had him falling onto the counter over you.

“You’re prettier,” you finally said between kisses and you felt his fingers pinch your sides, cock angled up enough to hit that soft spot that always made your legs tremble. You felt your orgasm close and you just wanted him to get rougher, “But I need you to fuck me harder.”

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook kissed you passionately as he did as told, so unbelievably turned on by that he could only thrust his big cock into your tight little pussy like his life depended on it. He was so close but you wanted him to fuck you harder and who was he to deny the girl he’s been obsessing over the pleasure of dreaming all over his cock?

A loud moan left your lips, completely surprising you by the volume of it but your butt still stunted from the way Jungkook just spanked you, fingers digging into the soft flesh and rutting his cock just that further in, “I’m so close, Y/n:”

Your nails drag across the skin on his back, kissing along his pretty neck almost falling back again when his back arched down to fuck you, you moaned out his name, “Jungkook, oh my god, I can’t.”

Jungkook held you tighter, raising his hand and bringing it down on your ass cheek once more, “Cum for me, baby, please, fuck.”

You nodded your head, eyes squeezed shut as you finally released all the tension in your body and came around his thick length.

Jungkook released a loud groan as your pussy tightened around him, using all his strength to keep from cumming inside you. You cling to him cutely as you came down from your high and he had to pull out. He hid his face in your neck as he let go, cumming untouched all over your stomach and his but you only hummed in pleasure at the sudden feeling.

It took you both a minute to relax, cool down and think about what you just did.

You shyly looked at each other. Jungkook bit his bottom lip nervously, “Thank god there’s no cameras.”

You actually laughed, wincing a little as he helped you off the counter. He smiled, straightening out his clothes as he got dressed, “What do you say about coming back to my place? I—Is that okay, I mean? Or was this, um… um…”

“Sure, but I’m going to need something more comfortable to wear,” you said softly and he looked over at you as you held up your ruined top. He didn’t realize he ripped it when he pulled it off. His cheeks flushed red in embarrassment as he hurried to get his sweater and hand it to you, “I’ll buy you a new one.”

You zipped up his light gray jacket that fit you oversized like it did on him and covered up to your mid thigh. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile at how cute you looked, putting your pants back on.

“So we both have tomorrow off,” you said trying to clean up the mess the two of you left like you didn’t just have the best sex you’ve had in a long time — and at work no less.

Jungkook nodded. Taehyung returned today so he’ll be opening tomorrow with Hoseok and Namjoon will close with Sungha when he got back. The two of you had the day off as a thanks for covering and on Tuesday Hobi and Sungha will have off.

“There’s this new place that opened up and I really want to try, tomorrows our first day off in a while so—“

“Yes,” Jungkook cut you off before you could even ask him your question, “Obviously. Are you asking me to go with you? Well, even if you’re not, I’m going. I’m not letting you leave my bed if you don’t take me. Like a date, right? Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Well I was trying to,” you laughed as the two of you finally gathered all your things before locking up the store hoping they wouldn’t notice anything off tomorrow morning.

“Fuck, okay, ask again, please? I need to hear you say it,” Jungkook begged and he looked like a huge bunny with doe eyes.

“Whatever, do you wanna go with—“

“Yes!”

“Jungkook! Are you going to let me finish or what?” You asked with a cute roll of your eyes, following him to his car.

“Okay! Okay,” Jungkook laughed, “Try it one more time.”

You laughed and indulged him, “Will you go o—“

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yessssssss!”

“You’re so annoying but it’s cute.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Jungkook clutched a hand to his heart as the one held onto yours, walking backwards to the car so he wouldn’t miss a second of you, “You’ve never called me cute before.”

OC MIXTAPE TO JK

FIRST NIGHT DRABBLE

DATE DRABBLE

A LITTLE THING CALLED JEALOUSY DRABBLE

JUNGKOOK’S SICK DAY DRABBLE

::.

y’all am I late for the swarm of seven fics? ik most were more smut and I loved every single one but I’m not cut out for so many smut scenes 😭 I’m a one and done but hope everyone loves this version of seven’s Jungkook, the himbo coworker ⭐️

also I included a little video of the songs jk would have on mixtape lol just for funnies. if you want to see more that he would dedicate to y/n, comment in my inbox with #ask SEVEN! JK or if you have any questions

oc is the world’s strongest soldier

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 2 @asking4-sanity @thvlover7 @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #jungkook au #Jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook request #jungkook oneshot #jungkook one shot #seven days to love

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louloulemons-posts · 16 days

Text

Metal Head Cuddles

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Word Count : 1.7k

Warnings : not proofread, swears, shitty parents(reader), vecna stuff did happen, petnames, it’s just a load of fluff.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Meeting-hug :

Being Robins Buckleys cousin was great, moving in with her and her dad was also great. Your family wasn’t fantastic, but Robin and your uncle were.

“Are you sure it was okay for me to tag along? I could always go back and chill with Uncle Rich.”

“Come on Y/N, i know you wanna get out of it, but everyone will love you”.

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m 100% sure, now come on let’s go in.” You were at Robins friends, Steve, house, apparently they’d become best friends a couple years back.

Working at an ice cream shop together, you’d had a job of your own when you lived in Chicago, it had allowed you to move to Hawkins and not look back. An old music shop that was getting more and more popular by the day.

Harringtons house was nice, Robin said his parents had a good job, but weren’t around a lot. There was music and laughter as you walked into the house.

“Don’t be nervous, they’ll love you.” Robin linked your arms and you walked into the garden. “Buckley!” A voice called out as you left the house. “Harrington.”

A boy jogged up to you, floppy hair bouncing as he came. “Ah you must be Y/N, Robins said a lot about you. I’m Steve.”

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you.” He gave you a welcoming hug.

“I’ll get you guys a drink, beer?” he asked.

“Y/Ns driving,” Robin spoke.

“Lemonade?”

“Lemonades great thanks.”

“Come on let’s meet the others.” Your cousin waved over at some younger people. “Y/N, this is Dustin, Will, Mike, El, Lucas and Max.”

“It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Ahh so you’re Robins mystery cousin,” the curly haired boy said.

“The one and only,” you shrugged.

“It’s good to meet you anyways,” A red haired girl spoke, her eyes were glazed and you spotted a white cane, along with the hold she had on the boys arm beside her.

“And you guys.”

“Come on let’s meet the lovebirds.” Robin led you away to two teens who looked your age. “This is Nancy and Jonathan, guys this is my cousin Y/N.”

“Hey it’s great to meet you,” the girl spoke, standing to give you a squeeze.

“And you.”

“Where’s Munson?” Robin asked.

“Late as always,” Jonathan joked. On that note loud metal music was heard. “Speak of the devil,” Jonathan chuckled.

A few moments later a man with unruly hair came wandering in, his footsteps heavy and loud. He wore a large grin, dancing across his mouth as he took the younger curly haired boy hugged him.

The hug of a brother, Steve walked past, handing him a beer like it was a breath. He made his way over to us, handing me a cup full of lemonade and Robin her own bottle of booze.

“You been introduced to everyone?” Steve asked. “Pretty much, just not,” I motioned over to the man who was not letting out a cackle.

“Oh, hang on,” Steve paused for a second, because calling out the man’s name, “Eddie, come here man.” You heard him mutter something like, ‘Oh no already in trouble,’ to the younger kids, making them laugh.

He jogged over to us, taking a swig of his drink. “Hey guys,” he smiled, taking in everyone’s face when he finally landed on mine. His chocolate eyes met my gaze.

“Eddie this is Y/N, Robins cousin from Chicago,” Steve explained.

“Oh cool, nice to meet you,” he said, pulling you into a half hug.

You hand landed on his lower back in greeting as his kept his, respectfully on the middle of yours. “And you, Robins told me all about you guys,” I said to the group.

“Oh no, what’s she said?” Steve groaned.

“Nothing that isn’t true Dingus.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Random-Encounter Hug :

Pushing the cart through the aisle, I grabbed a couple veggies here and there, planning on making, yet another, thank you meal for Robin and my uncle.

After placing the tomato’s and peppers in the cart I looked back up, spotting a newly familiar figure. Grabbing the last few things I needed from this section I sped up, “Hey Eddie.”

The boy whirled round to look at me, “Y/N, hey, how are you?” He asked, instantly pulling me into a large hug, giving me a gentle squeeze.

“I’m good, just getting bits and pieces.”

“Same here, I’m want to make my uncle a nice meal for his birthday, but don’t tell anyone,” he leant down so he was closer to your ear, “I can’t really cook.”

Letting out a laugh, I smiled at the boy, “If you want I can help you?”

“You cook?”

“I do indeed, give me your number and we can figure out a recipe, go through everything step by step.”

“Really?”

“Sure, what does he like to eat?”

“Anything we eat out of cans a lot.”

“Does he like steak?”

“Sure.”

I motioned for him to follow me, pushing the cart and coming to a halt by the steaks and other various meat. Getting a small, cheap, but still a beautiful cut, I handed it to Eddie.

“Does he like mash potatoes?”

“Yeah.” I quickly grabbed some of them, and then some green beans. Eddie pulled a face at that, “Does he not like them?

“Oh he loves them, I do not,” his face scrunched.

“They’re not that bad I promise, cook them

in butter and seasoning.” The boy hummed, instantly trusting your words.

He stayed to help you with your own shopping, helping you take the bags to your car, holding his own. “Thank you for the help,” he said, “It was nice to see you again.”

“And you. Remember call me when you’re cooking, I’ll talk you through it all.” The boy gave you a smile, and pulled you into a sweet hug. Arms enclosing around your body, holding you close.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Exhaustion Hug :

You’d gone out for the day with Robin, Nancy, Steve, Jonathan and Eddie. Not sleeping well the night before after a screaming phone call from your mother, you were so tired.

“You okay?” Robin whispered.

“Oh yeah, just a bit sleepy. I’ll be fine.” You’d be on a long walk, wondering around shops, just having fun doing what people would consider mundane.

Eddie walked in front chatting away with Steve, Robin jumped into conversation with them, whilst Jonathan and Nancy led the group hand in hand.

Staying a few steps behind, you rubbed your eyes again. Not realising the group had stopped you bumped into Eddies back. “Shit sorry Eds.”

Turning to look at you, he smiled softly at your sleepy state. “It’s okay, you good?”

“Yeah just tired.” He nodded, humming, “Well we can’t have that can we.”

He turned back around and got low, “Hop on,” he said simply.

“What?”

“Get on my back.”

“Eddie no-“

“Y/N,” he said turning his face to you, “Please.” Well you couldn’t say no to that.

Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, Eddie stood, holding underneath your thighs. “Comfy?”

“Mhm.” My face rested on his shoulder.

“Come on then, let go,” he walked with ease, as if he wasn’t carrying an extra weight. I felt so comfortable there, with him holding me, that my face nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Anything for you.”

…

“Oh he’s so into her,” Steve said, watching the boy carry the sleepy girl. “Him into her? You don’t understand how much she talks about him. I swear Eddie coming today is the only reason she’s here,” Robin laughed.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Recharging Cuddles :

You don’t really know how it happened, but it was natural as anything. You and Eddie started dating, much to his Uncle Wayne’s joy.

Stood in the small kitchen in their new trailer, you were cooking a breakfast for Eddie and yourself, Wayne had already headed out for the day.

Feeling arms come around your waist and a face nuzzle into your neck, his curls tickled in their sleepy state. “Where did you go?” He said, voice laced with sleep.

“Making us breakfast Eds.”

“You weren’t there when I woke up.”

“Sorry baby, I just wanted to make you something.”

“You’re too sweet,” he spoke, placing a sweet kiss under your ear. “It’s almost ready, why don’t you sit at the table?”

He whined, “Wanna stay with you.”

“Okay sleepy boy,” With a free hand you rubbed his own that connected around your waist.

“Thank you.”

“Never have to thank me baby.” The boy remained attached to you the rest of the time you cooked, sliding you onto his lap as you ate.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Reunion hugs :

It had been two whole weeks since you’d seen Eddie, yourself, Robin and your uncle had been on vacation. Not even thinking about unpacking you jumped in your car and drove over to Eddies.

The trailer park was hit with sun, bright days becoming more common, the people of Hawkins soaking in the rays.

That was including your favourite boy, of course wearing jeans, black and ripped and a tank top. Some of his scars were on display but the large ones that covered his torso were hidden by the material.

Parking up, you climbed out of the car with ease. “Hey you,” you called as you walked over to him. “Oh my god”, he laughed, pushing off the stairs of the trailer and running to you.

Without a second thought your feet were off the ground, arms around his neck, he lifted you up and held you close. “I missed you so fucking much.” Hands going to his hair, you giggled, “I missed you too baby.”

“Never go away again,” he mumbled into your neck.

“Where’s my hug miss?” you heard another voice speak. “Wayne,” I smiled Eddie let me hop down from his hold and walk over to the older man. He took he in his arms and gave me a squeeze.

“Thank goodness you’re back, I couldn’t deal with anymore moping from this boy,” he motioned to Eddie. “Wayne,” he whined, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling your back to his chest.

“But seriously never leave me again.”

“Don’t plan on it.” He kissed the top of your head, holding you tighter.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : well hello it’s been a while, life’s been kinda crazy lately, so writings been the last thing on my mind. Hopefully I’ll be back to it soon, but I’m not gonna push myself, hope you guys understand.

All the love 🤍

- Lou

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 2 months

Text

Angel Face, Devil Thoughts

Summary: The first time Rafe Cameron saw you, he knew he had to have you. Whatever it takes. Wk: 6.8K

•This is a collaboration with @babygorewhore🖤 I had so much fun working on this with you baby, I love you so much!!!•

Warnings: Possesive!Rafe, obsessive behaviors (Rafe and reader), kidnapping, drugging, kinda clueless reader (or is she…?), daddy kink, borderline stalker behavior, spanking, hair pulling, jealous!Rafe, bondage, age gap (Rafe is 35 reader is 26), spit kink, oral, unprotected sex. Dark fic, 18+MNDI!! (Divider by me)

Rafe Cameron’s legs turned as he swung the golf club, perfectly hitting the ball as it landed near the hole in the ground yards ahead. He smirked to himself. Topper clapped a hand on his shoulder. His grip firm and Rafe cocked an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t know how you do it. I’ve never beaten you.”

Rafe shrugged. “No one can,” He chuckled and scanned the scenery of the yards ahead of him.

It was a beautiful day. It wasn’t too hot and he was able to wear nicer clothing than he usually did for golf. A simple button down shirt and comfortable pants allowed him to easily pick up his bag of clubs and make his way to the small section of the park where food and drink was served. By Pogues and the middle class.

But he wasn’t as involved in the war between kooks and pogues. At 35, he truly had better things to do. Run the empire and look after Wheezie who was a young teenager now. After Wards death, his sisters random marriage, his own growth over the years, Rafe just wanted to make money, fuck, and…make more money.

But then his eyes widened and he almost stopped short when he saw you. And his entire world came to a halt.

You were wearing a simple outfit, a little black tennis skirt and a polo tee that bore the logo of the franchise representing the park. Your hair was out of your face, you were wearing makeup and you were currently talking to Wheezie, who giggled and blushed at a young boy across from you both. Rafe’s footsteps slowed but he continued your way. He was close enough to hear the conversation.

“I think he’s really cute. But I don’t know how to approach him.” Wheezie complained and he wanted to roll his eyes over her thirtieth crush of the week when you smiled at her. And he melted inside.

“That’s okay. All you have to do is wave and smile. Men are easy.” You winked at her and he swallowed thickly.

You were so beautiful. Delicate. Angelic. Perfect. You radiated kindness and a youthful spark that he hadn’t exposed himself to in a long time. He was probably about ten years your senior but he didn’t give a shit. When he saw Wheezie walk away from you and your adorable smile continued to grow, that's when he decided.

You were his.

He cleared his throat and prepared to further approach you after abandoning Topper. He had no issue with shyness or other bullshit younger men dealt with but something about you made him hesitate. Why were you working? Someone as perfect as you deserved to be treated gently, like a princess. You needed to be kept.

Rafe could do that. Easily.

As he walked to you, your pretty doe eyes looked up at him, and a smirk so faint crossed your face that he almost missed it.

“Haven’t seen you before. Sorry if my little sister annoyed you. But I have a soft spot for her.” Rafe didn’t bother with introducing himself. You’d be screaming his name soon enough.

“Hi,” when you gave him your name, he almost got chills. Even your name was perfect. You were an angel. The way your feet rolled, trying to shorten the distance between you both was adorable. “She was cute! I remember my first crush.” You twirl your hair and Rafe gave you a hum of approval.

“What’s a pretty little girl like yourself doing working here? With looks like that, I figured you’d be a model.” Rafe complimented and instead of becoming shy, you batted your eyelashes and grinned.

“I’m thinking about it.” You glanced back at the bar cart, “but I have to get back to work. It was nice to meet you finally, Rafey.” The nickname made his lips quirk in a sadistic smile. A nickname already? One he never allowed others to use.

But you weren’t anyone.

You were his little bunny.

Rafe stayed longer than usual, watching you from a distance and leering at the way your skirt hugged your ass and hips. You were a little clumsy but he enjoyed that. He knew you’d have to rely on him for everything. You needed him.

When you clocked out, Rafe was horrified to see you start to walk down the road. You didn’t have a car. And that made him feel rage. How could someone allow you to walk home alone? He certainly wouldn’t. Not his pretty kitty.

Rafe marched forward, catching up with you before his hand gently touched your arm. “Pretty girls shouldn’t have to walk home. Come on. I’ll give you a ride.”

He expected you to deny it but then you grinned and nodded rapidly.

“Yes! That sounds great!”

This would be too easy. But he was worried. What if a bad man got a hold of you? How would he live with himself if something happened to you? He’d never let it go. No. His darling little girl would never get hurt.

“Come on. My car is this way.”

Rafe lagged behind you ever so slightly, despite his legs being much longer than yours. He couldn’t resist getting another peak of your ass in that little uniform. He also couldn’t resist when you stumbled as he was helping you into the passenger seat and one of his hands landed on the skin of your ass just under your skirt. He had to hold back a chuckle at the sight of you displaying yet another act of clumsiness. You were so helpless, fragile, too good for this world. He had to protect you from anyone who tried to hurt you, even yourself.

“Alright, Angel face, where am I headed?” Rafe buckles himself in, one of his long fingers hitting the push to start on his fancy sports car. He glances over at you, noticing that you haven’t buckled yourself up yet. He lightly shakes his head before leaning over the center console to buckle your belt for you.

“Oh, thank you, Rafey.” You run your fingers down his forearm, batting your lashes at him again. He takes note of your chipped nail polish, he’ll have to remedy that immediately. He’s definitely going to be calling the nicest salon on the island first thing tomorrow. Get you the full treatment, hair, nails, massage, whatever you want. “It’s on figure 8, I’m actually staying three houses down from you, I think. It’s my grandparents old house.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard about their passing. I’m sorry about that, doll.” He smiles at you softly, earning the cutest little grin in return. “Is that what you’re doing here? You inherit their house or something?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. They left it to my mom but she doesn’t have any interest in living here so her and dad are selling it. We came here to go through all their stuff and get it ready to put on the market.”

“What about you? You like it here?” You cross your legs, and Rafe can see how deliciously your thighs squish together out of the corner of his eye. He stifled a groan at the sight.

“Yeah, it’s nice. It’s a lot different from my hometown but it’s really pretty here. And I make better money than I did at my waitressing job back home.” Your voice is so cute, Rafe wants to drown in it.

“If your moms parents left her all that money, how come you’re working?” He takes a chance to look over at you at a red light, eyes roaming your form, committing as much as he could to memory.

“They are still dealing with all the legal stuff, and I don’t really know if they’ll even give me any. I don’t think they trust me with it. I haven’t always made the best life choices.” You sigh, a frown spreading across your lips, a crease in your brow. Rafe hates it, how dare they upset you? How dare they not help you? If you aren’t great with making choices, he doesn’t mind making them for you.

“Ah, makes sense. But a pretty girl like you? You deserve everything you could ever want. Waited on hand and foot.”

“That’s so sweet, thank you, Rafe. But I’ve always worked for what I want, ya know? I don’t really mind it.” You shrug your shoulders, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“Well, I think you deserve better than that, s’all im saying. I’m gonna set up a spa day for you, alright? What are your days off?” This is a win, win for him. He can spoil you a little and figure out your work schedule.

“Oh! You don’t have to do th-“

“Angel, I don’t have to do anything, but I’d really like to do this for you. Let me.” It comes out like more of a command than a request and he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches in your throat at his tone.

“Alright, if you insist. I work Tuesday to Saturday every week. So I have tomorrow off, since today is Saturday.” You smile at him, and he thinks it’s adorable how proud you seem to be stating simple facts. You seemed like a bit of an air head but Rafe didn’t mind, he liked that, it would be easier to guide you.

“Okay, I’m gonna call and make you an appointment for tomorrow.” He pulls into the driveway of your grandparents home and takes his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Put your number in here and I’ll text you the details.”

Your smile is wide and he feels like he can practically see a sparkle in your eyes. He wants to give you the fucking world. You add your number to his phone, putting yourself in as “Angel Face” with a little bunny next to it. You give him his phone back and he smirks down at it, you were almost in too cute to bare.

“Well, thank you so much for the ride, and for tomorrow too! You’ve been so kind to me and you hardly even know me, I wish I could repay you somehow.” A little pout forms on your lips as you look up at him through those god damned lashes.

“I’m sure we can figure something out, Angel face. For now, be a good girl for me and get inside safely. Make sure you lock the door behind you. I’ll text you soon about your little spa day.” He smirks at you, resting his hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze. The cutest little squeak leaves your lips and he can’t wait to hear what you sound like when you moan his name. “Also, no more walking home, alright? I’m usually done with my work shit by the time the club closes so I’ll pick you up from now on.”

You look like you’re about to protest, but it’s almost like you think better of it. Instead you give him one of those sweet smiles.

“Sounds good, thank you again, I’ll make sure I’m a real good girl for you. Get lots of rest for my big day tomorrow. Good night Rafey.”

“Night, Angel.” You pat his hand before grabbing your purse and exiting his car. He swears you bent over a little extra to give him a flash of your little black panties, but he’s not complaining. As long as he’s the only man you’re doing that for. He’s totally and utterly addicted to you already, and he won’t stop until he owns you completely. Rafe quickly calls the salon owner's private number, knowing they’re probably closed by now. He offers her however much it takes to get you in the next day before typing out a text to you.

Your appointment is at 12:30 tomorrow, I think baby pink stiletto nails would compliment you well. I'll pick you up at noon, don’t be late. Sweet dreams, bunny.

Rafe eagerly pulls into the salon parking lot the next day. He picked you up at noon on the dot, you came bouncing down the driveway with a bright smile on your face. He must say seeing you out of your work clothes was a spiritual experience for him. You were wearing this little black mini skirt, and a little light pink tank top. You had on the most impractical shoes for a place like this, big, chunky, studded platform Mary Jane’s, with little white ruffle socks. The thing that really did him in though? The black o-ring choker around your neck. It was all so contradictory, the pink, the studs, the little socks. He’s never seen a girl like you in all his years. He needs you so badly.

Last night felt like one of the longest nights of his life, he never thought he could miss someone he just met so much. But he was up nearly all night, his thoughts riddled with you. Your thighs, the way your tits looked in that little work polo, the way your ass would bounce when he fucked you from behind. Rafe has never jerked off so much in one night. Not even when he was younger. All he can think about is filling you up, spoiling you, maybe putting a few babies in you once he’s gotten his fill of alone time with you. He walks into the salon with a pep in his step, his eyes scanning the room for your beautiful face.

His features immediately harden when he spots you though. You’re sitting pretty in one of the plush pedicure chairs your feet propped up while a man paints your dainty little toe nails. His nostrils flare, anger surging through him at the sight of another man’s hands on his angel. His expensive loafers thud against the ground as he stomps towards you.

“Rafe, hi! You’re early! But this is the last thing, so you shouldn’t have to wait for long.” You give him that saccharine smile, completely oblivious to his internal meltdown.

“Hi angel.” He smiles at you, but he doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You about done with my girl here?”

He looks down at the man as he coats the polish on your toenails, wanting nothing more than to cut his fingers off one by one for even thinking he’s worthy of touching you. Let alone doing it. He doesn’t give a shit if he’s paying.

“Yeah, this is the last step then I’ll have her out of here.” The guy smiles at him before returning to his task.

“I didn’t know dudes worked at places like this.” Rafe scoffs.

“Rafe! That’s kind of a rude thing to say… Everyone here has been so helpful and kind! I’ve had a great day!” Your lips form into a pout, your brows furrowed. The last thing he wants to do is upset you, or scare you off. He needs you to trust him. Plus he’s not the same hot headed guy he used to be, he’s a man now. He can keep this to himself.

“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry. Thanks for treating her right, man.” Rafe forces the most polite smile he can muster in his direction.

“No problem, just doing my job.” He taps his fingers against the polish, making sure it’s dry. “Which I’m all done with, you’re free to go ma’am. You can pay up front.”

“Thank you so much!! They look perfect!!” You wiggle your toes, your hands clapping together excitedly. You’re so cute Rafe hardly remembers why he was mad, hardly. He still wants to singe that guy’s finger tips off. “You like them?”

“Yeah bunny, those are gorgeous.” Rafe smirks, pleased to see the baby pink polish on not just your fingers but your toes too. You even went with the shape he suggested. You’re such a good girl already.

He walks you to the counter, using his black card to pay for everything. He even leaves a generous tip, despite how much he’s still simmering with jealousy over that man touching you. He wanted to make a good impression on you, he needs you to see how perfect he is for you.

“Lemme see you, pretty girl.” Rafe offers you his hand so he can spin you around, a low whistle escaping his lips as you twirl. “Gorgeous.”

“Oh my god, thank you! I really had such a great day. I got a massage. Then they did highlights and a blow out on my hair. And of course I got these pretty nails!!” You giggle, holding your hands out to him to give him a closer look.

“Very pretty, bunny. The little bows are a nice touch. I knew that color would be perfect for you. You ready to go?”

“Yup! All set.”

Rafe leads you out to his car, helping you in and buckling your seatbelt just like he has the last two times you've been in it. He drives towards your grandparents house with an almost uneasy feeling. He doesn’t want to let you go yet. Or ever. He left you alone for a few hours and regardless if it was his job or not another man had his hands all over you. He didn’t like it. You were too precious to be going around without him. You needed him just as much as he needed you.

When he pulls up to your house you thank him over and over again, telling him no one has ever done anything this nice for you before. How could they not have? You deserve a thousand times more than just this, and he’s going to give it to you. You lean over and leave a sticky lipgloss kiss on his cheek. His heart feels like it’s nearly going to burst out of his chest and he has to clench his fists to stop himself from reaching out and kissing you like his life depends on it. You make sure to bend over again when you get out of his car, and it just drives him even more crazy. He was going to make you his, by any means necessary.

Rafe carefully selected another item into the cart as he walked down the aisle at the store. The aisles were nearly empty since he picked the perfect time to arrive and buy things for his little girl. His shopping was usually done by someone who worked for him but how could he allow anyone to touch things that were yours? Only he could give you these things. His little angel wouldn’t ever have to worry about anyone ever again.

In the cart were stuffed animals, blankets, decorations and even coloring books. He had already assembled the basics in the bedroom he specifically designed for you two days later after he had been driving you home. The room would be ready tonight.

His caretaker nature allowed him to easily pick up on things you liked. Soft, sweet and gentle natured you. His baby girl.

As he returned to his home with several bags, he didn’t allow anyone to put things away. The room was a soft pink color. Completely removed of any objects that could cause you harm. Stuffed animals, a tv set, a computer that would be monitored, and a soft bed with fluffed pillows. Rafe stood straight and admired his work. Yes. This was perfect for a sweet girl like you. Everything about this plan would go perfectly. His little bimbo would fall for his trap and he didn’t have a moment of doubt or guilt. Why would he? You needed him. And he wouldn’t stand the thought of anyone else having you.

Like clockwork, Rafe heard the doorbell ring and he knew it was Barry. Here to accomplish his part of the task at hand. Rafe opened his front door after begrudgingly leaving your bedroom and Barry leaned against the frame.

“Sup, country club.” He dangled a bag full of small pills. “Got the dough. You have my money?”

Rafe handed over the wad of cash and accepted the plastic bag. “This better be the real fucking thing or I’ll kill you.” He warned and Barry smirked.

“Yeah, yeah I’m so scared of you big boy. Pretty fucked up though. What you’re planning to do with that chick. But it’s safe I guess. Not gonna hurt her.”

“That’s all I need to know.” Rafe pressed the bag against his chest and Barry crossed his arms.

“Ain’t ever seen you like this, bro. When you gonna get her?”

“Tonight. When she’s on her way home. Pretty little bunny doesn’t have a car. She’s making this easy for me.” Rafe chuckled.

“Aight, I don’t need to know anymore.” Barry held his hands up and walked away towards his bike. “Careful, Rafe. Sounds like you’ve really fallen for her.”

Rafe nodded and a twinge of emotion made him feel warm. He swore to himself he’d never fall in love. And now look at him. Planning on taking this poor girl but he was doing her a favor. She was his and his alone. He would protect her. Even if it was against her will. Even if it meant forcing her.

Later, Rafe was in his car waiting to pick you up with your favorite drink. A milkshake. His trembling hands gripped the steering wheel as the minutes went by on his digital clock.

You will be coming out soon. All his. His precious baby. Rafe craned his neck and finally saw you walking towards his car. His body tensed and his cock twitched with adrenaline as you smiled when you saw him. Twirling your braids, you waved at him while approaching the car with a half slip.

“Hi, Rafey! You’re right on time!” You said as you happily slid into the car.

Rafe nodded. “Of course I am, baby. I’m a man of my word. Here, I got you something, Angel.” He handed you the milkshake, his fingers twitching as you grinned and immediately wrapped your lips around the straw. You moaned at the taste and his mouth watered at your pretty sounds.

You fell for it.

Rafe inhaled slowly as he started driving, but not in the direction of your home. It didn’t matter anyway, you were drinking too eagerly to really notice.

“It’s a pretty day, Rafe! Almost as pretty as you are!” You giggled and Rafe reached over, placing a hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle yet firm squeeze.

“Thank you, bunny. You’re such a sweet girl you know that? My sweet girl.” He muttered the last part and he noticed your movements were growing slower.

You blinked, your doe eyes becoming unfocused. The Valium was taking effect and he smirked with satisfaction. God, you were such a little bimbo slut.

“Rafey…I feel so tired…” you yawned and he traced his ringed fingers along your skin where your skirt had rode up.

“Go to sleep, baby. You’ll be all nice and safe when you wake up.” Rafe trembled as you slumped over, your mouth parting as you drifted to a deep sleep.

That’s it. That’s my fucking girl. So obedient.

Your body feels weighed down, you try to open your eyes but it feels like someone put bags of sand on top of them. The last thing you remember is falling asleep in Rafe’s car, but what you’re laying on right now is definitely not a car seat. It feels like the most plush mattress you’ve ever laid on, even softer than the one in your grandparents guest room. Your head feels like it’s resting on a cloud, and the air smells nice. Like vanilla and strawberries.

After a few minutes of struggling you finally force your eyes to open slightly. There’s a soft warm light illuminating the room, and what looks like a sheer pink canopy on the ceiling above you. Your body still feels heavy but you’re able to move your hands now, spreading your fingers and running your palms across a silky soft blanket. You turn your head to the side and your eyes land on a pink wall with the prettiest vanity you’ve ever seen pushed up against it. You weave your head the other way, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. Up against the opposite wall there’s a rack filled with clothes and from what you can tell it’s all things you’d wear.

You try to push yourself up on your palms, now extremely aware of how dry your mouth is, how thirsty you are. But your body still feels too weak. You let out a little groan and lull your head back against the soft pillow.

“Hey, hey, don’t try to move, Angel. I’ve got you.”

“Rafe?” Your voice comes out a cracked whisper, you can’t see him, but there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s him.

“Yeah bunny, it’s me, daddy’s here.” The self proclaimed title sends a shiver down your spine.

“Daddy? What’s going on? Where am I?” You’re about to try to push yourself up again when Rafe comes into view. He’s towering over you, looking down at you with what only could be described as adoration.

“You’re home.” His large hand reaches out to cup your jaw, the pad of his thumb running over the apple of your cheek.

“Home? This isn’t my grandparents' house - I - I’m so thirsty.” You nuzzle into his palm almost subconsciously. You’ve spent so many nights now dreaming about his touch, more than just the brief thigh touches or a hand on your shoulder. It felt so nice.

“Shh shh, baby it’s okay. Don’t overwhelm yourself. Here, I’ll help you sit up, I have some water here.” His snakes one arm underneath your head and the other behind your knees, hoisting you up against the headboard with ease. Now that you’re sitting up you have a better view of the room. It’s beautiful. Something out of your wildest dreams.

“Where - where are we?” You ask with wide eyes, your voice filled with borderline awe.

“I told you Angel, we’re home. This is for you. I did this all for you.” He takes the cap off the water bottle sitting on the nightstand and holds it up to your lips. You eagerly chug it down, the cool liquid calming the burn in your throat.

“For me? Rafe? How did I get here? Did you change my clothes?” Now that you’re feeling more aware you realize you’re no longer wearing your work uniform. Instead you’re wearing a little silk nighty with white lace embellishments. It’s soft and comfortable and honestly gorgeous.

“Bunny… I need you to listen to me, alright?” He discards the water bottle so he can sit on the bed next to you, his hand returning to your face. You nod against his palm, looking up at him with big wide eyes. “Use your words.”

“I’m listening, Rafey.”

“Call me daddy when I’m talking to you like this, alright baby?”

“Okay, daddy.”

“I - fuck - I did what I had to do alright? I did what’s best for you. You’re too fragile, too precious for this world. That first day I saw you working at the club, I knew I needed you. Knew you needed me.” You try to hold in your smirk, you really do. But you were already starting to crack as it was, and this? This isn’t something you would’ve expected.

“Oh I know, daddy, I see the way you look at me… you didn’t answer my question though. How did I get here, huh? Did you slip something in that milkshake? Knock me out? Strip me down and get a good look at my little body?” You look at him with a Cheshire smile, and a gleam in your eye he’s never seen.

“Hey, I didn’t fuckin’ do any weird shit if that’s what you’re thinking, I want you fully aware of your surroundings the first time I have you. That is until I fuck you so good you forget everything but my name…”

“So kidnapping and drugging me isn’t considered weird? Got it.” You let out a breathy chuckle. “You know, I knew you wanted me, but I didn’t think you’d go this far. I have to say, daddy, it’s kind of hot.”

“The fuck you mean you knew?” His brows furrow, his nostrils slightly flare and you can tell you hit a nerve. But you just couldn’t keep up this clueless girl act anymore, not after he went to all these lengths just to get you. You needed him to know you wanted him just as bad.

“I mean, I’m not blind. You look at me like you want to put me in a cage and never let me go. You drive me home everyday. You offered to buy me new nails the first day you met me. Also, don’t think I didn’t notice how jealous you got when you saw that guy doing my pedicure. And guess what? The funny part is, you didn’t need the drugs to get me. I would’ve just let you take me.”

“You knew this entire time how badly I wanted you?” You nod and his hand reaches out to grip your jaw, rougher than before. “I told you to use your words, bunny.”

“Yes, I knew.” You smirk at him and he adjusts his grip so he’s pinching your cheeks.

“And you still continued to tease me like a little slut? Bend over and flash me your little panties every time you got out of my car? Always pushing those tits up against my arm and batting your lashes at me? Was that all some kind of act? You trynna scam me?” His hand migrates from your face to your throat, his thick fingers tightening against your esophagus deliciously.

“Daddy, no. It wasn’t an act at all. I want you so bad. Just wanted to see how far I could push you before you finally cracked. I have to say, you exceeded my expectations. I can’t believe you did all of this just for me. That’s so sexy.”

“Oh, so you’re just a little fuckin’ tease. That it?”

“I wasn’t teasing, you could’ve had me any time. You just got in your head that you had to carry out this elaborate scheme to keep me, when I’m already yours.” Rafe practically growls, he feels tricked, he feels frustrated that he risked hurting you with those drugs when you wanted him all along. But most of all? He’s so fucking horny.

“Well, I want you right fuckin’ now.” He uses his grip on your throat to push you onto your back and eases his body over top of yours.

Your breathing intensifies as you give him a small smirk. Of course you knew he wanted you. You may be a bimbo but you had common fucking sense. His blue eyes burned whenever he looked at you with a hunger that was impossible to deny. The material of his shirt rubbed against your bare skin, your slip riding up from his movements that left you pinned on the mattress under his mercy. His palm pressed against your throat felt heavenly, his fingers locked around the sides of your neck held you down posessively.

“You fucking slut. You liked it this the whole time. Liked playing with me. I’m gonna make you regret it.” Rafe flipped you over, grabbing your hips and yanking you up on your hands, your ass up in the air. Your pussy clenches around nothing before Rafe’s hand slaps your ass, hard enough to make you jolt forward as his other hand flies to your hair, holding you in place with a makeshift ponytail.

“Apologize to daddy. Say you’re sorry.” He growls and you want to be a brat and say no, but his fingers slide from your hair down, down, down to your entrance, sinking knuckle deep in your cunt. His two digits play inside you, curling in a come here motion and your slick welcomes him in further as his thumb brushes against your clit with a delicious pressure. “Mmm, wanna give you love, bunny, but you’ve been a bad girl.” He grunts and you whine with your face pressed against the bed.

“Sorry, daddy! I’m sorry I acted bad!” You shriek when he spanks you again, this time hard enough to leave a mark. He spanks you again, and again and again. Tears prick your eyes and you hear him shift as he releases you. You fall forward, crashing onto the blanket and you feel his hands take your ankles. He moves you around on your back, dragging you to the headboard.

“Dumb little kitty. Bet you’re so wet from this. Let’s see,” He gives you a predatory smile and shoves off his black tie. He pins your wrists down, using your weakness to his advantage as he loops it around your hands. He ties you to the headboard and his knee spreads your legs, making you feel the air on your damp panties.

Rafe breathes through his mouth in a taunting huff, “look at that. You’re such a little whore for me. Wet from me hurting you? Drugging you? God damn you’re so pathetic. I love it.”

As you jerk, trying to move you realize you’re completely trapped by him. Rafe looms over you, cupping your jaw. “Open your fucking mouth,” He hisses and you immediately obey. He spits inside, “swallow it. You’re good at that, aren’t you?” You shudder at his filthy words.

Rafe crawls down, sliding your panties down your legs. A groan escaping him at your sticky pussy on display for him as he spreads your knees.

“Mmmm, so good. You’re so worked up.” He situates himself on the bed, burying his mouth against you, his tongue lewdly licks at your clit like an ice cream cone. His heated lips suck at your center with loud moans as he grinds into the mattress.

Your hips buck, his nose continually brushing against the underside of your clit as he laps all around before thrusting his tongue inside your entrance, gathering every single ounce of precum he can get.

“Fuck, daddy. Feels so good, I needed this.” You barely manage and he chuckles.

“Desperate, huh? Needed daddy to fuck this tight little pussy? My little girl is such a good bunny.”

Your stomach tightens, a tightening coil in your belly growing the more he licks you up relentlessly. He rips away, whipping your juices from his chin. His cock inside his trousers looks painfully hard.

“I’m going to make you fucking scream.”

Rafe pushes himself up on his knees, easily ridding himself of his button up and then moving onto his slacks. Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock, you knew he’d be big, but it’s even better than you imagined. All those nights trying to stifle the moans of his name so your parents didn’t hear you.

“Fuck daddy, your cock is so pretty.” You’re practically drooling. “Fuck my mouth.”

He finds himself questioning if you’re even real at this point. His little angel all tied up and laid out, practically begging him to use your pretty mouth. He straddles your face, the head of his heavy cock brushes against your lips and you flick your tongue out. You moan at the taste of the bead of precum that gathered at the tip.

“Fuckin’ look at you, gonna let me use this little mouth?” He taps his cock against your outstretched tongue a few times before using his free hand to grip onto your hair, pulling your head back. “Open wide, slut.”

You stick your tongue out as far as it can go and he glides his length across it. He thrusts slow a few times before shoving his cock down your throat, causing you to gag.

“Yeah, that’s right, fucking choke on it.” You close your lips around him, taking a deep breath through your nose as he begins to assault your throat with rough thrusts. His groans are almost animalistic as he uses you for his own pleasure. You moan around his cock, clenching your thighs together at the feeling of being at his mercy. “Mmm bunny, this mouth is so fucking good. But I bet that little pussy is ever better. She was practically begging for me to fill her. Is that what you want?”

He uses his grip on your hair to pull you off his cock, leaning back so he can look down at you with a condescending pout.

“Please daddy, want it so bad. Want your cock, want your cum. Fill me up.” His large hand grips your face, punching your cheeks together as he tilts your head from side to side.

“You’re such a good little bunny, begging for daddy’s cock like my own personal little slut. That’s all you’re gonna be from now on. Mine to fill, to use, to fuck, to spoil. You’re never going to have to think about a single thing ever again.” He expertly undoes the tie binding your wrists, gripping onto your hips and flipping you onto your stomach again.

“Yes daddy, that’s all I want, just want you. Wanna be your good girl. Want you to take care of me.” You whine into the sheets. “Please fuck me daddy, please don’t make me wait any-“

You’re cut off abruptly when he pulls your ass up into the air, lining his cock up with your entrance. He fills you up in one rough thrust, your slick walls practically sucking him in. He doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s fucking into you at a brutal pace.

“Oh fuck yeah, this fucking pussy is even better than I imagined. You’re so fucking tight, never gonna stop fucking you baby. Gonna keep you full day and night.”

“Daddy daddy daddy, it feels so good. So good. You’re so big.” You let him take you, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over. You’re gripping the sheets so tight you’re scared your new nails are going to tear through them and drool is dripping down your chin and onto the fabric.

“Yeah, fucking take it, slut. Take this fucking dick.” He leans forward, his thick forearm snaking around your throat. He uses his grip on you to pull you up so your back is flush against his chest. You didn’t think anyone could ever be so deep inside of you, and the pressure on your throat makes your head light in the best way.

“Oh my god, daddy, I’m gonna cum.” His free hand finds your clit, and the minute he’s circling it your orgasm is crashing over you. You thrash in his hold, a pornographic moan ripping through you.

“Fuck yes angel, fucking cum for your daddy. Pussy is fucking squeezing me. Gonna make me cum. Look at me.” His hand leaves your clit, roughly gripping onto your jaw so he can pull your head to the side. It’s borderline painful the way your neck is craned so you can look up into his blue eyes. But when he smashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss you can’t bring yourself to care.

Rafe continues to fuck into you, his tongue invading your mouth, intertwining with yours. He pushes his hips flush against your ass as he reaches his high, filling you with ropes of his cum.

“That’s it, good fucking girl. You're so good for me.” He releases your throat, pulling out of you slowly, causing you to whine. He eases you onto your back, leaning over top of you to place a much more tender kiss than before on your lips. “Let me clean you up baby.”

He gets up, quickly wetting a washcloth in the ensuite bathroom. He rushes back to your side, running the warm cloth along your folds.

“Mmm thank you, daddy. That feels nice.” You hum.

“Yeah? Gotta take care of my angel, you’re my responsibility now. I’m going to do everything and anything you need.” He lays down next to you, pulling you into his side so you can rest your head on his chest. “I am sorry about the way I went about this. But I’d do it again in a heartbeat. The first day I saw you I knew I needed to have you. Knew you were meant for me.”

“I feel the same, daddy. All you had to do is ask. Although, I must admit, it was honestly pretty sexy this way. You might be observant but there’s still a lot you have to learn about me.” You happily nuzzle into his chest. You’ve never felt so safe before. “I love my room by the way, it’s perfect. Does this mean I don’t get to sleep with you though?” You pout.

“Of course you get to sleep with me, Angel. I just wanted you to have a space of your own here.” He runs his fingers through your hair, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “There’s going to be ground rules that I want you to follow, but we can go over those when you’re more clear headed. Wanna take a bath?”

“Yeah Rafey, a bath sounds nice.”

#rafe Cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe fic #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe x reader #dark!Rafe Cameron x reader #Morgy🩸

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luvring · 1 year

Text

— hq boyfriends in public

gn!reader | kuroo, oikawa, iwaizumi, akaashi, atsumu, osamu, sakusa

KUROO fights to pay for your things at the till. you were spending more than him and asked the cashier to do two transactions. tetsurou doesn’t protest, but while you’re on your phone planning your next shopping stop, he watches the cashier scan your items. they say the total and you reach to tap your card, only for him to do the same. you look up and make a startled noise. “tetsu, no—” “let me pay—” “oh my god, why do you do this every time?” you ask while the both of you laugh. you push each other out of the way until he’s able to hold his card long enough for the payment to go through. you sigh and pout at him, but tetsurou grins at you and plants a kiss on your head. “guess you were too slow, babe.”

OIKAWA watches you try different clothes no matter how many you try on. he's done it enough times that he knows what you're comfortable in and what colours are best—he could probably shop for you alone if you asked. you step out of the fitting room and he looks up from his phone with a smile. "what do you think?" you ask, turning so he can see it from different angles. tooru hums and taps his chin. "i think it flatters you a lot, and this would match your favourite jacket really well. do you feel good in it?" you nod. "right? yeah, i mean it looks really good and it's comfy. i could probably wear this to dinner tomorrow." he nods before standing up, clapping his hands together. "well, then there's your answer!" we'll put it in the cart when you're done. we still have more to go, yeah?"

IWAIZUMI carries your bag(s) for you, no matter how silly he might look. you take advantage of it sometimes, like now as you pick up a pink, velvet tote bag. “haji?” “yeah?” “can you carry this?” he turns to look at you and without hesitation, he takes the bag and puts it on. “oh yeah, what did you think of this sweater?” he moves on, reaching for it so you can see. “ it’s getting cold so i thought i’d get a new one.” you don't respond immediately, trying to hold back a grin, and he notices. “what?” “nothing! i just think…the design is very different from the bag.” he looks down at himself, and you think a black sweater with a skeleton torso design and a pink my melody tote was something he could pull off. hajime rolls his eyes lightly before moving toward you. he flicks your forehead, exhaling a laugh at your reaction and bringing you in for a side hug. “i think it looks really nice,” you offer. “yeah? you wanna pay for it then?”

AKAASHI asks to study with you at the cafe. he has a headband keeping his hair out of his face, and despite how messy he feels you think he looks especially cute today. he had asked you to quiz him on the study guide he made, and you try to think of a motivator. "okay, keiji, i have an idea," you say suddenly. he stops writing an answer explanation and looks up at your voice. "hm?" “if you get the next 7 questions right, i’ll get you some of that cake we see and never buy because it’s too expensive,” you promise and point. he follows your hand and looks to the register, where the cake sits next to it in glass. he leans back against the booth and sighs before looking at you with a smile. “can i have a kiss for every question instead?” you blink. it takes a few seconds for his question to process and your face starts to heat up. “keiji—” “you know you’re sweeter.” “keiji—”

ATSUMU hits on you as if you were still strangers. he walks back to your booth with your drinks in his hand, leaning on it with a grin. “hey there,” he greets you. “y’come around here often?” you look up at him and roll your eyes before deciding to play along. “yeah, actually. it’s my usual spot with my boyfriend.” atsumu makes a noise of acknowledgement. “oh yeah? where is he then? i bet i’m better-looking.” he slides back into his spot, passing your drink over at the same time. you hum. “you look kind of similar actually. are you his secret twin or something?” your laughter rings through the air at atsumu’s face before he reaches over to squish your cheeks. “no, i’m pretty sure he doesn’t have one.” "yeah? well i think saying you're better-looking than yourself is a trick that i couldn't have won." atsumu thinks for a second before letting go. a lopsided grin appears on his face. "touché, babe."

OSAMU feeds you food when you say you're tired. all you have to do is ask, maybe frown or pout a little, and he teasingly sighs before picking up your spoon. "first i'm your chef and now i have to feed you?" you open your mouth, and osamu makes sure to cup his hand to catch anything that falls. after finishing the first spoonful you reply, "yeah, it's called fine dining." he can’t help but smile a little as he gets the next spoon ready. “is it good?” he asks. you lean closer so he can feed you. you start to chew and nod, offering a thumbs up. "yeah, it always is. thank you, love you," you manage to say between bites. osamu’s eyes soften despite his initial complaint—he always did try to make his best for you. "mhm, love you, too."

SAKUSA holds you on the bus when there’s nowhere to sit. he always lets you take the last seat if there is one, but the days the bus is too crowded he keeps his arm around you, positioning himself between you and the closest person. when the bus jolts to a stop, the both of you grab each other instinctively and he keeps you from falling. the people around you all bump into each other and apologies, laughed and muttered, are shared. you move back to where you were and wrap your arms around kiyoomi, his own hold tightening. he taps your waist to get your attention. his brows are furrowed and he asks quietly, “you okay?” smiling, you nod. “yeah, sorry for pushing you a little.” “i don’t think that was really your fault, hon. we’ll get off soon.”

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @leexshin @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #akaashi x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #sakusa x reader #kuroo tetsuro #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #akaashi keiji #miya atsumu #miya osamu #sakusa kiyoomi

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dr3c0mix · 1 year

Note

Hi, I just started reading your works and they are fantastic! I saw on your request page that you do teratophilia, but I don't fully know if you do orc, so I wanted to know before I sent in a proper request. If you don't do orc I'll probably request something with a minotaur instead.

Little Duckling

Yandere!Orc x Gn Reader

cw: nsfw, kidnapping, stalking

⚔️ Valeth was a warrior, a dangerous, bloodthirsty orc. One who had the blood of hundreds in his hands. A scar-ridden man whose company consisted of the vile and ruthless, thieves and murderers.

⚔️ So why the hell were you in here??

⚔️ You looked so small, so weak. A tiny creature possibly from a far land from the look of your wide-eyed, innocent face.

⚔️ He stared at you from across the tavern as you happily scribbled on a notebook with a small glass of some sweet drink you ordered.

⚔️ He could hear the laughs and jeers of the other patrons, some giving you less than decent stares at your body, it made him sick.

⚔️ But why? Why is he suddenly so protective of a tiny, weak, small, soft, cute, adorable, fragile doll of a person like you?

⚔️ ...

⚔️ Shit...

⚔️ He pinches the bridge of his nose and gets up from his seat and walks over to where you're sitting.

⚔️ "You better get out of here before you get hurt Duckling."

⚔️ You look at him startled with the cutest eyes, fuuuuckk

⚔️ You ask why with the voice of an angel; the orc bit the inside of his cheek to stop him from smiling.

⚔️ "You new in Phenonia?" He crossed his arms, glancing at the others in the tavern, all of them looking away from you after meeting his gaze.

⚔️ You tell him you're a traveler in search of adventure. He lets out a laugh, giving you a tusk-filled smile.

⚔️ He offers you a walk back to your inn and you happily agree, skipping and rambling about your travels the whole way. Normally he would tune out someone as talkative as you, words he didn't understand going one ear and out the other, but you, you managed to hook him with your explanations of distant lands and the discoveries you made there. He even asked questions and gave you tips and advice for your future adventures in Phenonia.

⚔️ You reach your inn and you bid the large orc goodnight, shaking his calloused hand and heading inside.

⚔️ He stood there for a minute, looking at the hand that touched yours. He felt his face heat up a bit before he shakes his head, trying to get the image of your bubbly smile out of his head. He heads to his home to get some rest but all he can think about is you in the bed next to him. Its not weird is it? god what's wrong with me????

⚔️ You two ran into each other a few more times, Valeth always using the nickname he gave you; Duckling. He says it's because you remind of a little duckling always waddling and smiling at everyone all the time.

⚔️ He helped you out sometimes whenever someone gave you a hard time. It's like he would magically show up to protect you like a big green guard dog. You would always give him that damn smile and treat him to a meal.

⚔️ When you two weren't together, he would be watching you go about your day in a busy street or from behind a merchant cart or crate. He knew your set schedule like the back of his hand, where you'd go for breakfast, your favorite place to rest after a long day, the spot you would always draw at. He would pay friends of his to keep tabs on you to make sure you're safe.

⚔️ You left a scarf once and he found it with an adorable pin that was for favorite bug made from jewels of your favorite colors. He wanted to give it back to you, but he couldn't bring himself to part with it. he found himself taking in the scent of you from it. He imagined you actually there with him as he stroked his cock while moaning into your scarf.

⚔️ Eventually he had enough of merely watching you and quick hand touches, he wanted to know your touch, he wanted to know your taste, he wanted to know the sound of your moans under him.

⚔️One night after an exhausting day of trying to sketch a bird that kept flying away, you see Valeth waiting by your inn. You smile weakly at him and wave, but he just sighs and walks over to you.

⚔️ You start to get a bit uneasy and ask what's wrong but he reaches in his coat and pulls out a cloth.

⚔️ "Sorry for this Duckling.." He mutters to you before pulling you to him, covering your mouth with the cloth. You black out before you could even scream for help.

⚔️ You wake up in a bed full of warm pelts with someone lying next to you. You gasp, remembering what happened and kicked yourself off the bed.

⚔️ Valeth jolts awake and sees you scrambling to your feet on the floor next to the bed. He gets up and quickly pulls you close as you try to wriggle out of his hold.

⚔️ He tries to calm you down, whispering comforting things to you. You fight the tears threatening to run down your face as you feel his breath on your neck.

⚔️ His hands feel you up and down, rubbing you in order to comfort you, but it only serves as a way to scare you even more.

⚔️ He kisses your neck, licking your sweet spots, his tusks ghosting across your skin like a dull blade.

⚔️ "It's alright Duckling, you're safe, it's going to be okay. But you're gonna stay here with me now alright? I'll keep you safe, I promise."

⚔️ He reaches in the drawer next to you two and pulls out your scarf, he puts it on you, crying your teary face with the soft fabric. You hold the scarf close to you, but you still turn away from him.

⚔️ He sighs and puts his hand at the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his.

⚔️ "You'll understand soon enough Duckie...you'll understand how much I love you.."

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

⚔️ Valeth kept you locked in his home after that, always leaving to keep up appearances that nothing happened. Whenever someone asked where you've gone, he said you just left in search of more adventure as you do.

⚔️ He was as tough and stoic as ever when he went out but as soon as he comes back home to his modest house in the edges of the kingdom and sees you, he becomes a giant cuddle bug.

⚔️ This big battle-scared orc turns to putty when he hugs your small form.

⚔️ He still locks the doors and windows from the outside in fear of you leaving him, but it's ok! You can still write about your travels and such! He brings home things he thinks you'd like. Weird stones, leaves, trinkets, anything.

⚔️ He would do anything for you, and you're reminded every day when he cuddles you close, taking in your sweet smell. Everything. Except being let go of course.

⚔️ Sometimes you refuse to eat in hopes of ticking him off but he just laughs and holds you in his arms like a stubborn baby and spoon-feeds you.

⚔️ No matter how much you kick and scream, he's always stronger than you, always shutting down your tantrums as easy as placing his hand over your mouth.

⚔️ Eventually you learn to live with him and his affections, the pile of junk he brought home is rummaged through and actually paid attention to by you, meals are eaten, albeit with you staring daggers into him, but he couldn't be happier.

⚔️ He never forced you to do anything lewd you didn't want to do, but he would sneak off out of bed to watch you, sometimes touch himself to the thought of the day he finally gets permission to bed you.

⚔️ But now, he's satisfied with you just sleeping with him in his arms, his face buried in your hair.

⚔️ "You're mine little Duckling...only mine..."

Thnkank uouyu anon <3 <3 <3

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thebearer · 7 months

Text

autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: target, halloween, carmen, and you. or a short, fluffy work about halloween shopping with target bc why not? 'tis the season.

contains: fluff. that's it lol. mentions to past family memories and some insecure carmen, but honestly just fluff!

“Oh, look at this one!” You coo, snatching the tiny ghost figurine off the shelf.

“Cute.” Carmen muttered, one hand on the obnoxiously red cart, the other on your lower back. “Put it in.” He nodded towards the cart that was slowly starting to fill up.

The speakers droned out some dull pop song, your coffee and his melting away in the drink carriers on the cart. Carmen didn’t usually prefer Starbucks, much more of a fan of the local coffee spot a block over from The Bear. They knew his regular, made it for him as soon as he walked in. No fuss, no forced conversation- just the way he liked it.

But you liked Starbucks, well, in the right circumstance. You liked going to Target, you liked having a coffee to sip on while you “browsed”. Browsed, Carmen had grinned when you told him that.

“You don’t just go out and browse sometimes? Look at things? Window shop to make yourself feel happier?” You’d asked him earlier in the car, head tilting to the side.

“No, baby. I, uh, I don’t.” Carmen looked over at you, his hand still holding yours in the center console. “But maybe you’re onto somethin’.”

Carmen’s lack of decorations was deemed a crime in your eyes, which inspired the trip. Halloween trinkets filling the cart, the sly smile you’d give him when you’d slip another one in, just like you were doing now.

“It’s my treat.” You’d remind him, with a little wink. Carmen let you think that. Like he’d ever let you pay. And miss out on a chance to spoil you? No way.

“Where’re you gonna put all this?” Carmen hummed, watching you situate the tiny ghost next to the plastic cauldron and iridescent ornaments- something you saw on TikTok that you were going to attempt to DIY. “My place isn’t that big.”

“I’ll find a place, don’t worry.” You hum, sliding back in beside him, swiping your cup out of the basket. “You’ve got a bathroom, and the kitchen, and the bedroom-”

“-Bedroom?” Carmen grinned lightly, his hand snaking to your waist while his free hand pushed the cart. “You gonna put this creepy shit in there?”

“It’s not creepy.” You huff at him. “It’s cute, festive. Makes the place feel more… homey.”

Carmen decided then, he’d let you put a full fucking skeleton in his room if it made you feel that way. He’d get rid of all his shit, didn’t need it anyways, so you’d have room for all your holiday stuff. Carmen’s heart fluttered at the thought of what Christmas would look like. Would you put up a tree? He hoped you would. He’d go and chop one down if he had to. Where in Chicago he’d find a tree? He wasn’t sure, but he’d find one for you. If it made you as happy as this did.

“Ok,” You pulled him out of his thoughts, stopping the cart lightly. You plucked the bright orange bag up. “Did you know these are my absolute weakness?” Pumpkin shaped Reese’s, in their bright orange and purple glory.

“Yeah?” Carmen grinned. “This is it, huh?”

“Yes, in any shape too. But I prefer the pumpkin.” You went to set it back, Carmen’s hand grabbing the bag lightly and putting it in the cart.

“‘M more of a Christmas Tree fan.” Carmen shrugged. “You know Cicero- uh, Jimmy-” You nodded, slipping back into his side. “He, uh, he used to bring a bag of these to Christmas every year when I was little. He’d always have to hide ‘em, ya know? My dad… My dad didn’t want us havin’ all that sugar before dinner. Jimmy would come in where all the kids were, toss ‘em to me or Mikey or Richie when he started hangin’ around. Tell us not to get caught, and Merry Christmas, and hide the evidence. We’d eat them before goin’ to Mass, and he did it every year until I got in high school.”

You smiled softly, hand sliding down his back. “That’s sweet.” You hum, squeezing his hip lovingly. “You should get him some for Christmas this year. Return the favor.”

“Yeah,” Carmen scoffed lightly. “Yeah, I think he’d like that.”

A silence fell between the two of you, chatter from the surrounding people, the scratchy-screech of the cart. Carmen’s heart hammered, mind racing. Why the fuck did you tell her that? Fuckin’ ruined the moment. Stupid, fuckin’ stupid.

“Hey, uh,” Carmen’s hands shook lightly, fingers drumming on the red plastic over the cart. “I-I didn’t mean to… ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to say all that, ya know? Ruin the-the… I just, I dunno, you said that and-and I-”

“-What?” You asked softly, brows creasing lightly. “What are you talking about? Say what?”

“The, uh, the thing with Jimmy. I-I didn’t mean to make it awkward-”

“Why is it awkward?” You pressed, setting down the candle you were smelling. “I thought it was sweet.”

“Yeah? I-I just… I dunno why I said it, I’m sorry.” Carmen rambled, a hand falling over his face, hoping you couldn’t see the blush growing over his face.

“Don’t be sorry, Carm. There’s nothin’ to be sorry about.” You shook your head, waving him off. “It’s a sweet story. I like that you told me that.”

“Yeah?” Carmen asked softly.

You nodded, smiling at him. “You know I do, bear.” The nickname rolls off your tongue so effortlessly, calmly- Carmen’s sure he’s going to melt into the floor.

“Here,” You twist the lid off the next candle. “This one has caramel. You like that, right?”

Carmen wasn’t sure how you remembered that. He’d mentioned it once, in passing, that he liked whatever you were burning at your apartment when he was over. It was caramel and coffee, you’d remembered, because you showed up at his house with the same candle the next day. A love present, you’d called it, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You didn’t want anything in return, no strings, just buying him something because you wanted to; because he liked it. It was still a new concept to Carmen, how you could love him without wanting anything other than love in return.

Carmen ducked down, the brim of his hat bumping your wrist lightly. “Yeah, I like that one.” He nods. “Smells like that other one.”

“Yeah? Not too pumpkinny?” You tilt your head to the side.

“No.” Carmen laughs, breathy and light. “I don’t smell any pumpkin. Is there pumpkin?”

“Caramel Pumpkin Latte.” You tilt the label towards him. “They’re saying it’s in there.” Carmen hummed lightly. “You calling them a liar?” You giggle playfully.

“No, but I am sayin’ there’s not pumpkin in there.” Carmen snorted lightly, putting the candle in the cart anyways. “Not real pumpkin, anyways.”

“Maybe if this chef thing doesn’t work out, you could be a candle critic.” You tease, falling into slow steps beside him. “Be a candle blogger or something.”

“Candle blogger?” Carmen repeats with an amused smile. “That’s not real.”

You look at him, eyes wide in excitement. “Oh, Berzatto, am I about to blow your mind.”

“No? Really?” Carmen laughed. “You’re fuckin’ with me?”

“No! It’s a real thing, Carmen.” You laugh, pulling out your phone. “There was this woman that, like, went viral because she was going insane about Bath and Body Works not having her candle or something.” You giggle, typing slowly in the search bar.

“That’s fuckin’ insane.” Carmen rolled his eyes.

“Yeah.” You smirk. “Think she might’ve started a trend.”

“Well, can’t do that then.” Carmen shrugged, loading the items on the small platform at the self checkout. “Don’t wanna go up against her, baby. She’s intense.”

“Yeah, good call.” You grin, pocketing your phone, opening the bags while he scanned the ghost. “Guess you’ll have to stick to cooking.”

“Guess so.” Carmen muttered, putting the plush pumpkins in the bag, reaching for his wallet.

“Eh! No!” You click your tongue, eyes flashing at him. “I told you I was buying it.” You put a hand over the card slot, glaring at Carmen with a frown.

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head lightly, pushing your hand away lightly. “You got a number you wanna put in?” He nodded towards the screen.

You pouted, pausing for a moment. “Yes.” You mutter, typing in your number quickly, pivoting your body in front of the card machine.

“You gonna move?” Carmen looked at you, already reaching around to put his card in.

“No, I told you it was my treat.” You mutter, twisting with your phone in your hand. One look at the screen, and you were tapping your phone against the screen. The ding chimed, your smug smile spreading across your lips when the receipt printed.

Carmen was stunned, card still in his hand. “What- How did you-”

“Gotta be quicker than that, Berzatto.” You grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Carmen looked down at his card in his hand, shoving it back into his wallet. Maybe Sugar was right, maybe he did need to actually learn how to use his phone. He grabbed the bags from you, swatting your hand away while you pushed the basket back.

“Shoulda let me pay.” Carmen grumbled, walking beside you out the sliding doors. It had started to get chilly, leaves tinging with warm color and the temperature beginning to drop. “Stuff’s for me anyways.”

“Yeah, but I wanted you to get it.” You bump your hip playfully with his. “Besides, I told you it was my treat.”

Carmen didn’t respond, unlocking the trunk and putting the bags in carefully, but the frown didn’t fade. Brows still furrowed and lips still in a hard line.

“Hey,” You call, stopping him before he could close the trunk. “I told you I wanted to buy it for you.”

“Yeah,” Carmen’s brows furrowed. “But you shouldn’t’ve-”

“-Carm.” You groan lightly. “I wanted to pay, ok? You always get me stuff. Let me get this for you, ok?” You say lightly, arms snaking around his shoulders, looping behind his neck. “Let me spoil you, bear. Lemme be your sugar mama.”

Carmen snorts, lips curling in a grin lightly. “Shut up.” He mutters, your lips closing over his in a sweet kiss.

You pulled apart, blushed and swooned in a Target parking lot. “You gotta put the stuff up anyways.” You tease, hands sliding down his toned arms, over his color block jacket.

“Yeah?” Carmen snorts lightly, pulling the trunk shut. “You’re not gonna help me?”

“I’ll be directing.” You declare, pinching his butt lightly, grinning at how he jumped and flushed. Sliding into the passenger side, you lean across the console to Carmen. “I’ll make sure the ambiance is there.”

Carmen nodded, starting the car, eyes bright when they met yours. “Light the candle?”

“Yes.” You laugh. “And I’ll pick out a movie.”

Carmen snorted lightly, his free hand moving behind your head rest while he backed out. It made your tummy flip with excitement. “Yeah? Casper?”

You give him a feigned unimpressed look. “You know I’m more of a Hocus Pocus girl.”

“Right, my bad.” Carmen laughed, hand gripping your thigh lightly, thumb rubbing patterns over the material of your leggings. Your heart skipped. “Fine. As long as you open those Reese’s.”

“Deal.” You grin, kissing his forearm gently.

Hours later, wrappers piled on the coffee table, the candle burning in the kitchen, and the orange lights glowing from where Carmen string them over the TV stand in the living room. One Jack-O-Lantern fleece blanket thrown over both of your legs, your head on Carmen’s while the beginning credits of Beetlejuice played on the TV. Carmen decided right there that you were right. This was more homey. Felt… right and content. He wasn’t so sure it was the decorations, more likely it was the girl who picked them out.

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Out On The Town

Plot: Tess and Joel demand answers from Y/n and Ellie on the details of Ellie’s condition and venture out into the city.

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: tlou ep.2 spoilers, language, canon typical violence, allusion to sexual harassment, guns, blood (16+)

A/N: PLEASE READ. Hello, my loves 👋🏻 I’m so glad everyone’s enjoying the series. I placed this in the previous chapter and a few other posts, but need to reiterate it. I’m not adding anyone to the taglist if they don’t have their age in their bio. This is a 16+ series and I’m trying to look out for younger eyes on here 👀

Other than that, I hope everyone enjoys these next two chapters. This one’s less action and more set-up for future parts. The next one should be out before Sunday’s episode. Read on, babes!!

—————————

May 10th, 2002. Austin, Texas.

The only proof Joel had that he’d been at the bar the night before was the throbbing pain in his temples. It was a sobering reminder that his talent for drinking was slipping with age. Still, he pounded some coffee and an Aspirin, picked up Tommy and headed off to work.

On their way, Joel found his eye straying to each women he drove past that even bore a tiny resemblance to Y/n. He should have been surprised that it had only taken one meeting for her to brand herself on his brain, but she was something special. She probably had that effect on everyone she met.

Joel parked the car outside the hardware store, leaving a semi-hungover Tommy to grab a few more minutes of sleep. Sarah was at soccer practice for the morning and then off to a friend’s house, they could almost get in full day of work.

Both the Miller brothers knew their way around the store like the back of their hands. Joel went to the back to get his quota of wood cut, made small talk with the older guy who worked the cutter and navigated the aisles effortlessly. There was nothing new about any of it…

On the other side of each aisle, Y/n was pushing a cart and restocking product. Home improvement wasn’t her passion in life, but her father had been one of those “don’t pay someone to do it if you can do it yourself” kind of guys, so it came natural to her. The pay was good, she liked her boss, and she enjoyed the community aspect of the job.

They were dancing without knowing it. Each time Joel moved in one direction, Y/n moved in the opposite, and vice versa.

Eventually, Joel got to the last thing on his list: a new drill bit. He steered his cart around a corner and down the corresponding aisle. When he got to the hook it was supposed to be on, he found it empty. This was not the day for that…

Y/n pulled down the aisle, spotting a customer rifling through a shelf, and put on her employee smile. “Can I help you find some-“

Joel practically smacked his head on the shelf above, standing up as soon as he heard that familiar voice.

Y/n’s eyes lit up, “You.”

“You,” Joel echoed, a surprised smile coming to his face.

“Hi,” Y/n chuckled.

Joel’s brain stopped firing any and all signals, “Hi.”

“So we had the same early morning planned,” Y/n smiled.

“Shoulda carpooled,” Joel replied, earning a breathy laugh. His chest warmed.

“How are you?” Y/n asked, as if some grand thing had occurred in the past twelve hours they’d been apart.

Joel leaned one arm on the handle of his cart, “Good. Headin’ off to work.”

“No Tommy?” Y/n looked over his shoulder.

“Nah, he’s sleepin’ last night off in the truck,” Joel said, putting a hand on his hip.

“Can’t say I blame him,” Y/n looped a finger through the grate of her cart, swinging her body into the aisle, “I shouldn’t have let you two buy me that second glass.”

Joel smirked, “Can’t hold your liquor?”

“Oh, I can hold it,” Y/n said confidently, scrunching up her face after, “Until the next morning.”

The two of them shared a short laugh before Y/n remembered why they were there. “You were looking for something,” she pointed to the shelf.

He was? “Oh, yeah,” Joel remembered, “Quarter inch bit.”

“Hang on,” Y/n said, determinedly sorting through one of the boxes in her cart. She pulled out the piece of steel and held it up victoriously.

“You’re my hero,” Joel said, taking it from her, “Day would have been a waste without this.”

“Well, there you go,” Y/n couldn’t help herself from beaming, “You saved me last night, I returned the favor.”

Joel internally winced at the memory.

“Are you done shopping or can I pull anything else out of my magic Mary Poppins cart?” Y/n quipped, patting a hand against one of the boxes.

“Nah, that was the last thing on the list,” he answered, wishing dearly he’d written more on the piece of paper in his hand.

“Well, I’ll check you out,” Y/n said, wishing she’d chosen any other phrasing.

Joel held up a hand, “I don’t wanna take you away from what you’re doin’.”

“Please, you’re doing me a favor,” Y/n grabbed the end of her cart and began to drag it down the aisle, “You’re the first human interaction I’ve had all morning.”

Deciding that he was doing a service and nothing more, Joel followed her through the store. He didn’t know if he believed in fate, but he believed in luck, and it felt like he’d gotten tossed a rare bit of good luck by meeting Y/n again.

Y/n was half convinced she’d caused Joel to materialize. Here she was, thinking about him and his big brown eyes all morning, and then there he was. It was either an unbelievable stroke of luck, or someone Up There had seen fit to brighten her day a little.

As Y/n scanned Joel’s items, a nervous silence blanketed them. Everything that filtered through their minds sounded too awkward to say. There wasn’t a whole lot of ground to cover, they’d only known each other for less than twenty four hours.

“You doin’ okay?” Joel finally asked, hoping he wasn’t crossing some line, “After last night?”

“Oh,” Y/n looked down at the pile of purchases, “Yeah, I’m fine. Not the first time it’s happened. I just need to get better at defending myself.”

Joel’s blood boiled under his calm demeanor, men were awful. “There shouldn’t be a need in the first place,” he bit out as he gripped his cart a little tighter.

Yn shrugged sadly, “It’s the world we live in. That’s why it’s so nice to meet guys like you and Tommy. You make up for your sex’s failings.”

Joel chuckled under his breath as he handed her his debit card, “Not sure we can fill that tall an order.”

Laughing softly enough to make Joel’s chest flutter a little, Y/n rang up the order and handed him the bags.

“Well, I guess I know where I’ll be seeing you two from now on,” she said.

“Yeah,” Joel replied, “And thanks for helping me find that bit. You really saved our asses.”

Y/n playfully held her hands up, “I didn’t get employee of the month for nothing.”

Joel could hear that little voice in his head, the same one that had a residency in the gut, telling him to take a shot and ask Y/n out. He wasn’t a timid guy, but she had some sort of spell on him that made his palms sweat and his mind go blank. Plus, he’d sworn off bringing anyone into his life a long time ago. It was all around, a bad idea.

“Well, I’ll see you around,” he finally decided on.

Y/n hoped her smile hid all her sadness, “See you.”

Joel and his cart made it about three steps before he threw caution to the wind.

“Hey,” he turned around, “Do you think, maybe….I could take you to dinner sometime?”

Y/n’s grin spread like wildfire across her face, “Yeah,” she replied, “I’d like that.”

Both of them released a caught breath, Y/n pressed a button on the printer and tore off a piece of reciept paper. She scribbled her number down.

“I work a lot,” she told him as she wrote, “But I’m usually free on Fridays.”

“Okay,” Joe took the paper from her, their fingers brushing, “I’ll call you.”

Y/n had to physically restrain her lips and the giggle that threatened to show itself. “You do that,” she responded, fiddling with her pen.

Joel gave a sideways smile, deciding to get out while he was on a winning streak. He held up a hand and turned on his heel, confidence powering his stride.

Y/n stayed at the checkout counter a little longer, trying to compose herself lest customers think she was high. She set her pen back down and did a little skip back to her cart. It was going to be a great day.

Joel made it back to the truck, loading his supplies into the flatbed with unusual enthusiasm. He didn’t care about his headache, his backache…he was flying too high for anything to bother him. He climbed into the driver’s seat, Tommy groaned as he did.

“You took your time,” he grunted.

Joel didn’t get many moments of victory, he was going to let himself bask in this one a while. He held up the piece of paper to Tommy, who leaned over and read it. Above an unknown phone number was Y/n’s name with a heart next to it.

Tommy’s grin stretched, “No way.”

Joel simply grinned and started up the truck.

“No fuckin’ way,” Tommy got louder, reaching over and shaking his brother’s shoulder. They drove off, Joel’s mood was shifted for the day. The nerves would set in later. For now, he just wanted to be excited about taking out the beautiful girl from the bar.

—————————

2023, Boston

Tess slammed Y/n up against the inside of the abandoned building.

“What the hell’s going on?”

Y/n pulled on Tess’ jacket and tried to flip her around. She rammed her elbow down on Tess’ arm and broke the hold. Before Tess could fight back, Joel took hold of both their arms and wrenched them apart. Y/n slipped as he did an fell on her side, refusing to groan and let any vulnerability show.

“I already told you,” Y/n grunted, pushing up on one arm, “She’s not sick.”

“You think we’re just gonna believe you?” Tess continued, “Give us one reason why we shouldn’t kill you both right now.”

Y/n smirked, her eyes bouncing to Joel, who glared at her with the same coldness he had twenty years ago. “How else are you going to get your battery?”

No matter how much control Joel wanted to pretend he had over the situation, Y/n held the real power. Ellie and her were the key to getting to Tommy.

Ellie watched this all from the side, exhausted and scared.

“Now here’s what’s going to happen,” Y/n stood to her feet and pointed to Ellie, “She’s going to get some sleep. At some point tonight, I’m going to do the same. Have a gun on me the whole time, I don’t fucking care,” she gestured between her and the girl, “But both of us are going to be breathing come morning,” she looked to Joel, “Or else you get to live with the fact that Tommy could have lived if it wasn’t for your overeager trigger finger.”

Joel’s blood boiled, furious with Y/n for having stepped over that line. How could she speak about his life so carelessly?

“We’ll take the first two shifts,” Tess stated, leaving no room for argument, “But we get our answers first thing.”

Y/n gave a single nod, picked up her backpack and motioned for Ellie to come with. In the middle of the building, there was a patch of grass that could act as a bed. Y/n sat down and pulled out her sweater, balling it up and laying her head atop it.

“Are you sure they won’t kill us?” Ellie asked quietly, she followed Y/n’s actions and crumpled up her jacket.

“Positive,” Y/n said as she shut her eyes. Joel may have been reckless with her life, but he’d sooner die than let anything happen to Tommy.

Ellie curled up a few inches away from Y/n. It was funny what life-or-death circumstances could do to people. Y/n was the only person Ellie had taken to out of the Fireflies, but now, with Tess and Joel as her other options for comfort, she was her new favorite person. Ellie turned on her side to face the woman, the only person she could count on to protect her…

—————————

Sunlight across Y/n eyes woke her up. She stretched out her legs and yawned, spotting a sleeping Ellie at her side. She’d never gotten woken up for her turn to keep watch, but that had been expected. It didn’t take a genius to guess what was waiting in front of her.

Sure enough, Joel had his rifle pointed straight at her chest.

“You’re getting predictable,” Y/n remarked, rubbing one of her eyes.

Ellie woke soon after, sitting up and finding the same sight.

“Morning,” she said. The second she moved, Joel’s gun followed her. Y/n immediately pulled her gun off of her belt and pointed it at her ex.

“Do I look like I’m infected?” Ellie asked.

“Show us your arm,” Joel demanded.

Ellie rolled up her sleeve and showcased the scarred bite. Tess and Joel leaned forward to examine it, which was hard to do with half a room between them.

“Yeah, it’s not getting any worse, is it?” Ellie said impatiently, “If we’re out in the open city, why aren’t we getting swarmed?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Joel ignored her concern.

“Well, I’m gonna,” the girl replied.

“What was Marlene doing with an infected kid?” Tess switched lanes.

Ellie shook her head, “I’m not infected.”

Tess and Joel gave a deadpan stare, Y/n rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like it was a fucking fairytale they were asking them to believe. There was proof right in from of them.

“She found me after I was bitten,” Ellie continued.

“And she didn’t shoot you,” Joel put another piece of the puzzle together.

“Clearly not. She locked me up and had her guys,” Ellie glanced over to Y/n, “Test me every day to see if I was getting sick.”

“Test you how?” Tess asked.

Ellie sighed, “I have to pee.”

Nobody cared. “Test you…how?”

“They’d make me count to ten and hold my hand out and then keep it steady,” Ellie answered, “But, you know, I think what really impressed them was that I didn’t turn into a fucking monster. Now can I please?”

As Ellie stood up, Joel rose with her, and so did Y/n. Betrayal and loyalty mixed between them like oil and water. Ellie held her hands up, caught in the middle of it.

“Fine,” Tess relented, “Back there, you can find a spot. And here,” she tossed a magazine Ellie’s way, “Tear out a few pages.”

Ellie glanced between Y/n and Joel, checking to make sure there wasn’t about to be a shootout, and headed back. “There’s not gonna be anything bad in here?”

“Just you,” Joel answered.

“Oh, funny,” Ellie said before disappearing.

With her gone, Joel and Y/n really had no reason to still be aiming at one another. At the same time, they cautiously lowered their weapons. Despite whatever tragic nostalgia they’d indulged in the night before, they’d gone back to hate, as if their memories had been a symptom of some bad hangover. It was all forgotten in the light of day.

Joel sat back down with Tess, letting his unflinching stare rest on Y/n. Y/n had seen enough of that scowl to not be intimidated by it. Eventually, when nothing more could be said, his eyes dropped to examine his hand. The pain had set in overnight and he couldn’t keep it from shaking.

“Broken,” Tess stated, sitting down next to him.

“Maybe a hairline,” he replied, never looking at her, “It’ll heal fast.”

“Okay,” Y/n muttered, clapping her hands together, “You keep thinkin’ positive, I’m gonna go take a piss.”

She marched over the small hill of grass and knocked on the door frame of Ellie’s makeshift bathroom. “Me,” she announced.

“Don’t fuckin’ look,” Ellie said quickly from somewhere in the room.

“I’m not,” Y/n replied, staring at the ceiling as she wandered, “Just tell me where to go.”

“Left a little,” the girl instructed, “Straight. There you go.”

Y/n unbuckled her pants and squatted, “Throw me the book?”

Ellie tossed the papers her way, they awkwardly went on with their business in silence.

As much as Y/n hated to let Joel have any sort of win over her, if they were going to convince him and Tess to help them to the State House, he was going to need more information.

“You’re gonna have to tell them,” she told Ellie, “About out West.”

Ellie was finished and standing on the other side of Y/n, “I thought I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/n sighed, “They’re not gonna believe you unless you do. Marlene would say the same thing.”

“What about you?” Ellie asked, “Would they believe you?”

Y/n bitterly chuckled, the memories that once had stingers now couldn’t penetrate her thick skin. “No, they won’t believe me. You’re our only shot.”

Outside, Joel and Tess were discussing the sudden plot twist.

“She made it through the fuckin’ night, Joel,” Tess urged, her voice dripping with hope.

“It doesn’t matter,” Joel argued, “It’s gonna happen sooner or later. Alright? We’re still close to the Wall, we sneak ‘em back into the QZ. We find a different way to get the battery.”

“What about her?” Tess asked, there was no need to specify which one she was referring to, “You don’t believe her?”

“I don’t trust a fuckin’ word that comes out of her mouth,” Joel answered harshly, the past nipping at his heels, ��She’s lied before and she’ll do it again.”

Tess had something unique going for her: she didn’t share history with Joel and Y/n. She saw through all their bullshit objectively. “This is our best shot,” she said, “We take ‘em back to the QZ, someone’s gonna notice her arm, they’ll scan her, then they’ll kill her.”

Joel wasted a heartlessly little amount of time with his reply, “Well, better her than us. You need to stop talkin’ about this kid like she’s got some kind of life in front of her.”

He didn’t know it, but he should have felt grateful that Y/n couldn’t hear his comment over the ripping of magazine pages. She would have shot him then and there.

Ellie and Y/n walked out, Ellie tossing the magazine back at Tess and Y/n keeping close watch as she took her seat.

“You hungry?” Tess offered to Ellie, “You can share some of ours.”

“Thanks,” Ellie replied, “Marlene sent me with my own.”

If Y/n wanted to feel like she was beating Joel in something, breakfast gave her the win. While he picked at a piece of jerky with his fractured hand, she and Ellie worked on their oversized sandwiches. Petty? Perhaps. But Y/n felt entitled to whatever form her hatred wanted to take.

“Is that chicken?” Tess finally asked.

Ellie nodded, “Yeah. Marlene and Y/n say they get it from smugglers. Guess not you guys.”

For whatever reason, even though she’d attacked her, Y/n was starting to feel empathy for Tess. She was the only one semi-amenable to Ellie’s situation. Against her instincts and more in line with her heart, she ripped the rest of her sandwich in half and walked it over to Tess, who looked up appreciatively. On her way back, she made a point of passing by Joel.

Tess stood up and approached Y/n and Ellie, setting Joel off. “Hey. Hey!”

“Why-“ Tess started, throwing a hand up to Joel to stay put, “Why is she so important to you and Marlene? And don’t lie to me or we’ll take you both back.”

“You take us back,” Ellie answered for Y/n, “You don’t get your battery.”

“You heard that?” Tess scoffed, “Well, then you must’ve heard that he wants to shoot you.”

Y/n wanted her heart to break at the comment, but when she looked into Joel’s eyes, she saw nothing. Nothing.

“He also knows he dies if he does that,” Y/n retorted, staring down the man like she could burn a hole through him by sheer force of will.

Tess kneeled down in front of Ellie, “I’m gonna talk to you like you’re an adult, okay? Joel and I aren’t good people. We’re doin’ this for us because, apparently, you’re worth something. But we don’t know what you’re worth if we don’t know what we have. So answer my question.”

Y/n and Joel saw none of the conversation, their eyes were locked on one another like bulls locking horns.

Ellie, however, took Y/n’s advice. “There’s a Firefly base camp somewhere out west,” she confessed, “With doctors. They’re working on a cure.”

Absurdity won and Joel broke his stare first, “Mm-hm, I’ve heard this before.”

“And whatever happened to me,” Ellie continued, “Is the key.”

“Is the key to finding the vaccine,” Joel’s voice overlapped with hers, turning to Tess, “That’s what this is? We’ve heard this a million times. Vaccines, miracle cures. None of it works. Ever.”

“This time it’s different,” Y/n argued.

Ellie stood up, “Fuck you, man. I didn’t ask for this.”

“You and me both,” Joel retorted, “This isn’t gonna end well, Tess. We need to go back.”

“Oh, yes,” Y/n smiled a joyless smile, “Once again, Joel Miller’s making decisions for everyone. What a comfort.”

It was the first time she’d said his name in twenty years and it was doused in venom. It should have hurt.

Tess got to her feet and came to Joel, “Let’s just finish it. It doesn’t matter if she is or isn’t what the Fireflies say she is. If they believe that she is, then…we get what we want.”

Joel faced two realities; one in which Y/n’s words from the night before came true and his brother died because of his stubbornness, and one in which he risked his life for a group of radicals running on hope that would never come to fruition.

He sighed, “If she so much as twitches…”

Ellie began to choke and snarl, flailing her hands like one of the infected. It pressed all their buttons.

“Don’t,” Tess and Y/n said in synchronization.

Ellie stopped, nervously rubbing her neck, “Yeah, okay…”

“Okay?” Tess asked her partner.

Joel glanced between Y/n and Ellie, then sighed. “Okay.”

Without another word, Tess, Joel and Y/n began packing up their gear. Ellie followed their lead, spotting Joel’s rifle. “Can I have a gun?”

“Absolutely not,” Joel replied.

“No,” Tess said.

“Not happening,” Y/n finished.

“Okay, fine,” Ellie’s voice went higher, “I’ll have to throw a fuckin’ sandwich at them.”

Joel pushed the bookcase he’d used to barricade the door aside and peeked out the door. “It’s clear,” he reported.

Y/n walked ahead of Ellie and let the sun hit her. Boston had been cold lately and the warmth was a treat.

“Whoa,” Ellie whispered behind her, she’d never seen or felt the freedom being outside the Wall brought.

“Yeah, looks different in the daylight huh?” Tess said with an almost smile.

There was beauty interlaced with the destruction. Vines twined around crumbling buildings. Grass growing around deserted cars. People theorized the apocalypse would look like blood and destruction, but survival wasn’t so black and white.

“We should get movin’,” Joel said, breaking Y/n from the first near-pleasent thought she’d had all morning.

The four of them walked through the city in a row, Ellie tried to keep pace while also taking in her surroundings.

“It’s like a fucked up moon,” she observed, wandering to look at one of the explosion sites, “Is this where they bombed?”

“Yeah,” Tess answered, “They hit most of the big cities like this.”

Maybe Tess could talk about it with some degree of separation, but Y/n and Joel kept painfully silent. They’d seen the destruction and didn’t want to deal with Ellie’s marveling at it. As Tess stopped to explain history to the girl, they kept moving.

They all came to a pause when they saw their route blocked by the remnants of a building.

“So, the State House is across there,” Tess said, “It’s about a ten minute walk if you could go straight.”

“So?” Ellie questioned.

“Long way or short way?” Joel asked.

“I mean, it’s the long way or the “we’re fuckin’ dead” way,” Tess replied.

“Well, I vote long way, based on that limited amount of information,” Ellie spoke up, “Y/n?”

Y/n inhaled to give her opinion when Joel spoke up. “We should check it from the hotel first.”

“That hand’s not broken yet,” Y/n recalled, “I’d be happy to remedy that.”

“Okay,” Tess said, breaking up the fight and taking the first steps. For two people who had survived twenty years in an infectious wasteland using nothing but their survival skills, Y/n and Joel brought out the child in each other. Once upon a time, that had been a good thing. Now, each petty comment felt like throwing a plastic knife and expecting it to kill.

———————————

They’d been walking an hour when they got to the interstate. Tess and Ellie were at the front, while Y/n and Joel were moving slower and bringing up the rear.

The curse of knowing someone so well is that even if you despised them, there was still safety in being around them. Y/n still wanted to throttle Joel and he didn’t want to be in a hundred mile radius of her. But it was better to be in the company of an enemy you knew rather than one you didn’t. Hatred couldn’t one-up their history.

“What did Marlene mean when she said you weren’t ready?” Joel eventually inquired.

“None of your business,” Y/n grunted as she stepped over a stray tire.

“It is if you’re gonna be a liability,” Joel replied.

Y/n scoffed, “Marlene says a lot of things. She’s not always right.”

While it was true, Joel had been more than surprised that Y/n had raised her gun so effortlessly at him, he could read in between the lines. Y/n had never had good followthrough. The Cordyceps had forced them all to adapt, but he sincerely doubted she could take a necessary shot.

“Stop doing that,” Y/n snapped.

“Doing what?”

“Stop thinking you’ve got me figured out,” Y/n sneered, “You have no fucking idea who I am anymore.”

Joel simply scoffed, that was only a half truth.

“Okay, Cowboy Joe,” Y/n remarked, the nickname earning a glare, “I don’t remember you being so quick with the murder,” Y/n decided to hit a little harder, “Or the drugs. Or the smuggling.”

Joel threw his arm out in front of Y/n to stop her, “Would you have rather I let him shoot us?”

Y/n inched her face closer to Joel’s, “I’d rather you fucking forget that we ever knew each other, cause this,” she gestured between them, “Hasn’t mattered for twenty years. We do this, and then you can go back to dealing pills and shoveling shit,” she trembled with anger and lowered her voice, “And we will never, ever have to see each other again.”

Joel thinned the close proximity even more, the last time they’d been this close had been under much different circumstances. “It’s forgotten,” he growled.

“Good,” Y/n whispered, her lips pursed as she turned on her heel and marched off.

Denial was a hell of a thing, but forgetting what they’d meant to each other was going to take something much stronger…

“Everyone said the open city was crazy,” Ellie mused as Y/n and Joel caught up, “Like, swarms of Infected, running around everywhere.”

“Not exactly like that,” Joel commented.

“People who’ve never seen outside like to make up a lot of shit,” Y/n added.

“So there aren’t Super-Infected that explode fungus spores at you?” Ellie asked.

“Shit, I hope not,” Tess answered, at least she had a sense of humor about all this.

“Or ones with split-open heads,” Ellie continued to earn her education, “That see in the dark like bats?”

The adults fell silent, Tess and Joel shared a look before she glanced at Y/n. Between the three of them, they’d seen the full spectrum of the abilities Infected possessed.

Like a sick joke, a distant yell echoed through the open highway. There was nothing in sight and it was impossible to tell where it had come from.

“What was that?” Ellie asked.

Joel tensed up, “Let’s keep movin’.”

————————

Once they got to the hotel, they had to get in to the hotel.

Joel shoved open the once-automatic doors and they walked in. The place had flooded, the waters that filled the lobby a mossy green shade.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Ellie exclaimed, her eyes widening as she took it all in, “You ever stay in a place like this?

“Uh, no,” Tess answered, “A little out of our league.”

“Once,” Y/n followed, “School trip to Pennsylvania.”

“How do you even know what this is?” Joel asked.

“Have you ever heard of books?” Ellie shot back.

Joel stepped down into the water, letting the sass float past him.

Ellie suddenly became hesitant, “Wait, are we going in there?”

“Yeah, we gotta get to the stairwell on the other side,” Tess replied.

“Well, I, I don’t know how to swim,” Ellie said, nervous.

Joel watched, unimpressed, from the lobby steps. “Seriously?”

“Do you think we have pools in the QZ?” Ellie retorted.

“No, smart ass. I mean,” Joel threw a leg out and hopped off the last step. The water barely hit his thighs.

“I don’t know how I was supposed to know that,” Ellie mumbled, treading into the waters with Y/n behind her.

Joel and Y/n’s argument on the highway had left her quiet. She’d been forced to change to survive the new way of life, but the memories Joel’s mere presence brought up reminded her of who she used to be. How care free, how light, how enthusiastic she’d been…she’d taken a job at a hardware store just because she liked getting to talk to people. Her old self had just become another person to mourn.

She snapped back to reality, she refused to let Joel Miller, of all people, make her fee bad about who she was.

“Hey,” Tess spoke softly, “She’s a good kid.”

Y/n glanced up at Ellie, who was wading through the water to get to the check-in desk. She enthusiastically rang the bell, “Ding! Ding!”

“Yeah,” Y/n bit back a smile, “She is.”

“Yes, sir,” Ellie played, “I would like your finest suite please,” she deepened her voice, “Yes, ma’am. Would you like me to take your luggage? Yes, ma’am,” she took hold of the luggage cart, “Right away, ma’am.”

Joel, who had lost his sense of humor over a decade ago, was done with Ellie’s excitement. “You’re a weird kid,” he remarked.

“You’re a weird kid,” Ellie repeated, a body falling out from behind the cart, “Oh, fuck me!”

Joel and Y/n had their guns drawn and were rushing over. The two of them examined what turned out to be a skeleton. Joel nudged its skull sideways with his boot, like there was a chance it was still alive and kicking.

“Uh, sorry,” Ellie nervously smiled.

Joel extended a hand to pull her up, retracting it as soon as she was on her feet. He caught Y/n rolling her eyes at him as they walked off. At this point, she was convinced he was acting like an asshole purely because he could.

The group climbed the four flights of stairs, the adults huffing and puffing while Ellie stayed as unbothered as ever.

“Fuck, holy shit,” Tess panted.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Ellie remarked.

“You try climbing ten fuckin’ floors with our knees,” Tess replied, “See how you feel.”

Y/n and Tess drifted and fell back in line with their assigned partners. While Y/n was glad Ellie and Tess had found camaraderie, she was selfish enough to not want it to come at the expense of being stuck with Joel.

They came up on what should have been their walkway, but it was blocked by a barricade of bricks and cinderblock. Joel and Tess tried the doors on each side of them, no luck.

“All right,” Tess calculated their options, “Well, I mean, maybe I could climb up there. Work my way around and open it from the outside?”

Ellie stepped forward, “Uh, no, well, I’m the smallest, so it’d be easier for me to get through.”

Y/n was quick to grab Ellie’s backpack handle, “Yeah, that’s not happening. We know what’s out there, you don’t.”

That caught Joel’s attention. When had she been sneaking out of the QZ?

“Can you give me a hand?” Tess asked of her partner.

Y/n pulled Ellie back before Joel could move her out of the way. He helped Tess up and stepped back. “You good up there?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a mess,” Tess reported, “So I’m gonna need a few minutes.”

It turned out, removing Tess was like removing a safety barrier for them all. Joel and Y/n sat on opposite sides of the hall, trying to keep as much space between them as possible. Ellie pulled out her pocketknife and started casually flipping it.

“Nice knife,” Joel said, trying to be cordial. Y/n was getting whiplash from his mood swings. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Ellie didn’t flinch in her retort, “The circus.”

Joel sighed, looking away from both of them. This was him trying to be somewhat friendly, though it still came off as being put out.

Ellie, on the other hand, was better at small talk. “Where are you from?”

“Texas,” Joel answered.

“Y/n said she knew your brother,” Ellie replied, “So you all lived in Texas?”

Y/n took a breath, Joel watched her. “That’s right,” he said.

“What about Tess?” Ellie asked.

“Detroit,” Joel answered, “It’s in Michigan.”

“I go to school,” Ellie shot back quickly, “I know where Detroit is.”

Silence fell again over the threesome, eagerly awaiting Tess’ return.

“So,” Ellie started talking again, “Are you two, like, a-“

“Pass,” Joel cut her off.

“How’d you end up in Boston?” Ellie pushed, it was becoming a game for her.

“Pass,” Joel answered, “No more questions about me.”

Clever as ever, Ellie found a work around. “Okay,” she turned to Y/n, “Were you and him a-“

“Nope,” Y/n said quickly, it was more a denial of an answer than an answer itself.

Ellie sighed, trying to think up something else. “How long do Infected live?”

Joel mockingly shook his head, “Oh, I thought you went to school.”

“It’s a really shitty one,” Ellie replied.

Joel smirked, he could appreciate the girl’s wit under different circumstances. It rivaled his own. “Well, some last about a month or two,” he answered, “But there’s other’s been walkin’ around ‘bout twenty years.”

“Ever kill one?” Ellie asked, still fiddling with her knife.

“Yeah, I killed lots of ‘em.”

Y/n stiffened, hoping if she stood still, the conversation would move right past her.

“Was it hard?” Ellie continued, “Like, knowing they were people once?”

It took all the strength Y/n still possessed to not let her emotions show. To not let the nightmares take her over. She didn’t have time for them.

No matter how hard they argued that they were strangers, Joel could sense her discomfort. Her experiences with Infected were one more thing he didn’t know about her now.

“Sometimes,” he said, watching Y/n as her eyes stayed closed in concentration.

“What about that guy last night?” Ellie kept going.

A well-timed thump excused Joel from answering, him and Y/n jumped to attention.

“You can put the gun down, Joel,” Tess grunted through the wall, straining to open one of the locked doors.

“Where to?” Y/n asked.

Tess’ grim expression led them out to the hotel’s balcony, she pulled back the vinyl curtain and let them walk out onto the terrace. Ellie gained traction on the ledge’s decor and climbed to the edge. Joel and Y/n ended up on each other’s side.

Y/n’s stomach dropped at the sight beneath her.

Dozens upon dozens upon dozens of Infected lay fifty feet below them in a heap. Their sickening shrieks bounced off the buildings as they crawled and thrashed aimlessly.

“There’s so many,” Ellie gasped.

“The last time we were here,” Tess said, “They were still deep inside the buildings. Then I guess enough people came through looking for the QZ, they went inside seeking shelter…and that’s how they get more and more of the city, bit by bit, every year.”

Y/n watched through dead eyes as the horde began to move as one. She hadn’t seen this many in a long time, long enough for the sight to feel fresh. She stopped listening to Ellie and Tess’s conversation and focused on her breathing to battle the nausea, in through the nose, out through the mouth…

Joel saw it all, and he knew better than to ask. Marlene was right; she wasn’t able to handle the journey on her own.

“So we’re not going that way,” were the first words Y/n could hear again.

“No,” Tess answered Ellie.

“What do we do then?” Ellie asked, her eyes widened with fear, “Short way?”

Tess and Joel shared a look, his hands fidgeted as he thought through their route. “Museum.”

—————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90

Joel Miller Taglist: @xsnak-3x @xmoonknightlyx @simplybarnes @stolenxkissess @mandoshoney @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @deanlovescassie @paintlavillered

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #twenty years later

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saintmurd0ck · 10 months

Text

all up in smoke

masterlist

pairing: frank castle x f!reader

summary: based on the prompt: 'sit on my lap and let's smoke a joint'

warnings: alcohol, weed (rolling a joint, smoking, shotgunning), frank being a cute little whore, heavy petting/teasing but no sex, high epiphanies (mostly fluff!)

a/n: happy late birthday to the ever lovely @chelseasdagger , this one is for you babeyyyyy 💗

Home is a solace on your lips as you step inside, your keys joining the others in the bowl by the front door. Despite the events of your day, still fresh in your mind, you feel the knotted tension in your body begin to dissipate, the pressure easing in your temples. The few lights that have been left on are dimmed, filling the house with the kind of ambient coziness you’ve been longing for all day.

You round the corner, and there he is on the couch: feet kicked up on the coffee table, immersed in a hardcover book you swore he’d never touch. A pang of emotion stirs in your stomach — a cross between yearning and consolation; something you just can’t place, but are grateful for nevertheless.

“Hi, Frankie,” you smile, drawing the curtains open, letting the cool night air filter into the living room.

He lifts an eyebrow, glancing up at you from behind the book. “Hey, sweetheart. Long day?”

You stretch your arms over your head, nevermind that his voice stirs something in you, and set your bag up on the kitchen counter. “Mmhm. Glad to be home.”

Frank leans forwards, fingers closing around the drink he’s left on the coffee table. His eyes flick to yours as he takes a sip, caring not to break contact, before jerking his chin at the bottle of scotch next to your bag. “You want some of that?”

He points at you, clicking his tongue as you move to pick the bottle up. “Don’t move. Stay right there.” Setting his book aside, the pages splayed face-down onto the table, he makes his way over, utterly impervious to your flurried attempts in getting him to remain where he is.

“D’ya really think I’d let you pour your own drink?” Frank says, looking affronted, but a furtive smile spreads along his face as you shake your head.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let me take care of ‘ya,” he adds, delicately.

Carting you gently to the side, he digs around in the freezer, reaching for a couple of ice cubes that clink mellifluously in the glass. You watch intently as they bob in line with the whiskey streaming in, and then as he inspects the amber liquid closely, as if to examine its quality.

When he’s satisfied, he turns to you, and raises the rim of the glass to your mouth. “Here,” Frank murmurs, condensation collecting around his fingertips. “Drink up.”

You shudder as the whiskey cascades hotly through your veins — each note of pepper, caramel and nutmeg lingering on the surface of your tongue like molten honey. You swallow another mouthful before pushing the glass away, not taking your eyes off of him for a second as he sets it down.

Frank runs his tongue over his teeth, raking his eyes across your face. He focuses on a stray drop of whiskey at the corner of your mouth, using a knuckle to brush it away. Your heart thunders at his calloused touch; as he pauses to swipe his broad thumb over your bottom lip. There’s a faint throbbing within you — a wild drumbeat steering you towards nothing but desire — so you flick your tongue out, circling his fingertip, relishing in his taste of salt, earth and whiskey.

He lets out a soft groan, mumbling something that sounds like your name; maybe even a plea to slow down. You’re attentive, knowing he doesn’t want this night over yet, that he wants to wait before taking you to bed.

It’s a good thing then, that you have something planned.

You inch forwards, swallowing as Frank’s hand sweeps over the contours of your face, coming to rest at a spot near your ear. He tips your chin upwards, letting his ragged breathing fan over you. He stalls, allowing his dark eyes to bore into yours, and for a moment you forget where you are, the stressors of the day long gone.

All you know is him.

His beard prickles your skin as he captures your mouth with his own, but you lean into the kiss, savouring his ardent warmth. He moves with you, deepening the kiss as you slide a hand into his hair, curling your fingers at the nape. Your thighs squeeze together as he pivots you around, pushing you against the counter while his tongue melts against yours. Using his leg to knock your knees apart, you arch into his touch, gasping as the bulge in his jeans settles where you need him the most.

You won’t be able to stop if you don’t pull away now.

“Frank,” you whisper. “Frank.”

He looks at you, placing a small kiss to your jaw. “Mm?”

“Before… uh,” you start, lightheaded and fuzzy, unable to comprehend anything but the heady weight of the whiskey and the ache between your legs. “I've got something for us. A little surprise. And I think,” you indicate, wagging a finger from him to you, “we should save this for later.”

He arches his eyebrows, smiling inquisitively. “Yeah? And what’s that?”

You step aside to rummage through your bag, taking only a few seconds for you to find what it is you’re looking for. You hold up a clear plastic container, giving it a little shake in front of Frank’s face. His eyes widen in comprehension.

“God, I love you.”

“Hey,” you smirk, “not God. Just me.”

He chokes on his own laughter, draining the last of your whiskey. “You got it, sweet girl.”

You bite down on your growing smile. “Anyway, I was thinking the plan could go something like… get a little high, have some fun. You know what I mean, right?”

“S’that right?”

“We both deserve it.”

“You need some help with that?” he asks, pointing at the rolling papers you’ve set down on the counter.

“Nope. Walk away.”

You’re an image of rapt focus with your tongue between your teeth, cautiously grinding the weed before packing it into the rolling paper. You slip a filter on one end of the joint, and using your thumb and forefingers, you roll it into place. Bringing the free edge of rolling paper up to your mouth, you skirt your tongue along the narrow strip of glue, quickly moving to seal the joint.

You shoot Frank a resolute look of determination. “Not bad, huh?”

He folds his arms over his chest, leaning back into the couch. Almost hidden in the tangle of his beard, the corners of his mouth tick upwards. You can’t quite tell if he’s astonished, impressed, or a mixture of everything in between, but the expression on his face is a priceless ego boost. “Attagirl.”

“Mmhm,” you reply drily, admiring your handiwork from up close.

“Baby?” Frank calls, breaking your tethered focus. A glimmer of a smile in your periphery catches your eye.

“Yeah?”

There’s a sound of rustling fabric as Frank spreads his legs, motioning you over to him by patting his thigh. “C’mere.”

Your gaze softens at his request. “That sounds good, Frankie. Let me grab my lighter.”

“Got it right here,” Frank chuckles, holding it up and thumbing it open.

Twirling the joint in your fingers, you meander over to his spot on the couch, watching the tiny orange flame dance in his eyes as he holds down the lighter button.

He’s a solid comfort under you as you sit down on his lap, shuffling back until the side of your body is angled to his chest, using the armrest as additional support. His scent is a blissful, pacifying force – distilling in you where it matters.

Frank wrests the joint from your grip, assiduous in the way he places it between your lips, then as he lights it for you. The lit end glows as the papered edges begin to burn, flickering in its reflection in the window ahead. You take a drag, letting the smoke fill your mouth before inhaling it into your lungs. Maybe it’s in your head, but your body feels lighter already; even more so as you exhale.

The grey-tinged smoke remains opaque for only a second, vanishing into the air as soon as you pass the joint to Frank. You breathe out again, more deeply this time, allowing the grassy, herbal scent of the weed wash over you in waves of tranquil calm.

You cock your head to the side, studying the normally terse man before you leisurely smoking the joint, taking two drags instead of one. Gratitude forms a lump in your throat — nights like these are rare, and to see him so carefree, his mind unoccupied by the workings of the larger world, is a luxury you’ll never get tired of.

After tapping the gathering ashes into his empty whiskey glass, Frank hands the joint back to you, closing his eyes while he waits for your next pass. As the weed-induced euphoria starts to take effect, you wrench one of Frank’s hands from its spot on your thigh, interlacing your fingers together. You take your time in mapping his knuckles, tracing over every crease, scar and perfect imperfection.

You tap on Frank’s shoulder, wanting him as a credible witness for a successful smoke ring, but like all your past attempts, it morphs back into a cloud, hanging there in contempt.

He laughs softly, putting you right to shame with a series of flawless rings that fall forwards in an arc towards the coffee table.

You giggle, jabbing him in the chest with an expertly-placed elbow. “Don’t get too cocky now, Castle.”

His mouth quirks to the side. “Yeah? What are you gonna do, hm?”

“I’ll…” you search around the room for something to say. “I’ll withhold sex!”

He gasps, feigning an expression of outrageous offense. “That’s cruel, darlin’.”

Laughing, you reassure him you wouldn’t, really, but he takes the opportunity to soar through the cracks of your defense, hauling you backwards until his face is flush with the shell of your ear. “Really think you could resist it? Not havin' sex?”

The retorts crumble away as he tells you to ‘open up, sweetheart’, lifting the joint back to his lips. He breathes in deeply, turning his head to then exhale the smoke into your parted mouth. Your eyes roll back as he seals it with a kiss, and it catches you a little by surprise, but you run with it, inhaling as much as you can.

Not quite ready to let go of your earlier comments, Frank does it again, shotgunning into your mouth until you're left with nothing but a dreamy expression and no thoughts left in your mind.

You let out a contented sigh as the weed goes to your head, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where his beard scratched your lip.

Eyes drooping, Frank wraps his arms tightly around you, holding you as close as he can, trailing kisses along your shoulder blades, down your arm, whispering sweet nothings and notes of ‘I love you’ until you slacken in his grip. You touch your lips to his forehead, now resting in the crook of your neck, his steady breathing keeping you anchored to your reality.

The next hour passes by in a haze — you’re mildly aware that there was another joint rolled in that time, courtesy of Frank, probably, but your memory retains the best parts: the giddy, high epiphanies, the smoke-filled kisses, the long-drawn-out touches… the fact that his skin has never felt so soft.

Exceptionally and utterly stoned, you move, draping your legs over his lap, clinging onto his neck so you can bury your face in his shirt – so spaced out that you barely register him talking.

“...Who the fuck is “Drake” anyway?”

“What?!” you sputter, snickering as if it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. “He’s a rapper, Frankie.”

“He’s off limits, so don’t even try” — you stumble over your words — “enacting your justice or… whatever.”

Frank frowns at you, pressing his lips into a thin line.

And then he bursts into laughter. Unequivocal, heaving sobs of hysterical laughter. And it might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Enacting my justice? That what you think it is?” he howls, bringing his fist down onto the couch. “You really think I’ve got nothin’ better to do than hunt down rappers?!”

“A little bit,” you sniffle, wiping away the tears of joy streaming down your face. “You know who’d love this conversation?”

He shakes his head as you continue. “Micro.”

“Micro,” he nods, affirming your point. “Bet he’d know more about “Drake” than me.”

You chortle at his aggressive hand gestures. “You don’t need air-quotations every time you say Drake, you know.”

He waves a hand in the air. “Ahh, I know.”

“Frank Castle,” you say, kissing his cheek once, then twice, “I think this is the wisest you’ve ever been.”

“Oh, c’mon. Really?”

You gesture at the stub of your second joint, floating in the bottom of his whiskey glass. “Yep. You might have to do this more.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

“Better me than what’s out there. Right, Frank?” you croon, batting your eyes at him.

“S’right, darlin’. That’s right.”

tags {x} @darlingshane @castlesnchurches @reborn-rekall @marvelswh0re @itwasthereaminuteago @simple-lovebot @chvoswxtch @pedrito-friskito @chellestrash @theradioactivespidergwen @twilightbarnes @splendiferous-bitch @bl4ckpr1ncess @kaybeeboop @kdogreads @swearwolf13 @rqgnarok @qu1etwolf @honeyedheartss @runa-falls @whistle1whistle @awkwardalie

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle fluff #frank castle fanfic #the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher fanfic #frank castle fanfiction #x reader #rhi writes 💻#tw weed #cw drugs

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word-wytch · 1 year

Text

Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 12

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 12/? 10.7k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ Grades are high, but stakes are higher.

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, true love, smut (18+ mdni), internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

Chapter warnings: flirting, play fighting, heavy angst, drinking, pregnancy mention, a heaping helping of family tension, mild fantasy blood/gore

Special thanks to @storiesbyrhi for the beta reading on this one.

Monday, November 18th 1985

Hawkins felt different this weekend.

Perhaps it was the ashen sky that hung over the scattered remains of a brilliant fall. The way it bathed the world in a pale, sullen wash. The way it made the rust on the signs outside the gas station seem more corrosive, the streets seem smaller, the storefronts seem older. Perhaps it was because everywhere you looked, you saw him.

You were used to hearing Eddie in the cars that billowed smoke and blasted music as you pumped your gas. You had grown accustomed to seeing him in the crushed beer cans and cigarette butts that littered the weeds along the sidewalk, in the remnants of a good time. Those things were not unusual. But this weekend you saw him under the harsh fluorescents of the grocery store. On the crinkled label of a 99 cent can of soup. In the faces of small children as you stood in line with a cart that you could never fill alone. You saw him in the windows of subsidized apartments. Heard him in the squeak of wire hangers against the pole at the secondhand store. Felt him as you drove past the huddled rows of trailers.

On Monday after school when you sensed a tall figure in the doorway of your classroom, you half expected to look up and feel those grey skies again. To see those weed littered sidewalks and pothole riddled roads that led nowhere. But instead you saw something much brighter.

Eddie was smirking, rapping his ringed knuckles against the doorframe as he leaned into it. A look in his eyes like he was keeping a secret.

His dirty white Reeboks squeaked against the tile as he padded over to his spot in the wooden chair beside you and dropped his backpack irreverently to the floor. The gust of air that followed was painted with base notes of skin and leather, top notes of cigarette smoke and a bright hint of shampoo. Not a trace of rain.

You gathered the papers in front of you, shuffling them into a pile in the corner as you glanced over at him, unable to suppress the smile breaking out on your face. “What?”

The smirk twisted deeper on his lips. “I read your story.”

It was like he said he’d seen you naked. Heat crept up your neck. “All of it?” you asked with a nervous chuckle.

“Not exactly.” Eddie grabbed the seat between his legs and walked it closer. “I’m at the part where they’re, uh, cooking over the fire outside of Grimhold and Cybelle takes her mask off for the first time. Well, in front of Lazarus anyway.” He shrugged his leather jacket off to drape over the back of the chair.

It was strange to hear him say those names. Names you hadn’t thought about in years, dusted off from where you shelved them in your mind. It was like he was speaking a dead language, breathing new life into it.

You swallowed. “Oh, that part. Yeah, that’s an important moment.”

“I had a hard time putting it down, if that tells you anything.”

“I take that means you like it then?”

“Like it?” he said in a breathy chuckle, leaning closer. “I’m blown away.”

Your stomach turned to mush, unable to tear your eyes away from the soft earnestness of his features. “Really?”

Eddie gave a deadpan look. “Look, I’m a huge fantasy geek, but this world you’ve created is…” he shook his head as a soft puff of air left his lips, “unlike anything I’ve ever read.”

There was a weight to his gaze, so heavy that you needed to break it. “Oh wow, um, thank you,” you said, glancing at the paperclips on your desk as heat made a home in your cheeks again. “It’s been ages since I’ve read it myself honestly.” In the same span of time you still never learned how to take a compliment.

“Yeah—no, I mean it. It’s really good.” He tipped his head towards you, searching for your eyes. “I like that it’s, uh, based in a sort of… reality, if that makes sense. Like the whole thing about illness being a problem and how the change in the atmosphere makes Cybelle dizzy. The gold and how it powers machines. Stuff like that. It’s clever.”

You found the courage to meet his gaze again. “Well, thank you. I mean I’m definitely no Tolkien, but…”

Eddie scoffed. “Honestly? Tolkien takes three pages to describe a door. You never need to and yet the world is crystal clear.”

The ease that washed over you escaped through a chuckle. “You know, I always thought that killed the pacing.”

“It does! God, I mean don’t get me wrong, he is the grandfather of fantasy but Jesus Christ.”

Your laughter mingled, soft and easy, coloring the air in the space between you. It echoed off the tile floor and concrete walls as beams of golden sunlight poured in through the row of windows to your right. The rays made a halo of his hair, catching the frizz that escaped the pattern of his curls.

Eddie’s eyes sparkled, and you would search for the hurt in them. You knew it was there, hiding somewhere deep in those pools of molten chocolate, but in this moment there was no trace to be found.

“Hell, maybe I should consult you for my campaigns,” he said scooting his chair impossibly closer. Close enough to feel his aura. To feel the hair on his arm tickle against yours.

“Jeez, don’t flatter me.” You were surprised at how steady your voice came out.

“No, I’m serious,” he said, his eyes drifting toward your lips. “Okay, don’t tell the boys but I’m actually kind of stuck on this one part coming up.”

You snorted. “Right, because I have such a good rapport with the boys.”

The smile lines deepened around his smirk. “Ok, so… the final boss is coming up and I kind of want there to be a plot twist but I’m not sure how to like, make that work.”

“Alright, well what’s happened in the story so far?”

There was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes before his voice dropped to a theatric narration.

“There’s a dark, evil force in the village of Hammerfall,” he began with a wave of his hand. “Crops are withering, livestock perishing. The villagers say it’s a curse put on by a spurned old crone who vanished into the forest, never to be seen again.”

The gooey smile breaking out on your features could not be contained. A new color in the lexicon of hues you knew his voice to be. Rich with iridescent animation, reaching deep enough to turn your heart to putty.

“Six brave adventurers investigate the cause and venture deep into the nearby woods where they encounter harpies,” he emphasized, flourishing his fingers, “dryads, and a forest teeming with dark activity. There’s something deeper going on…” he paused for dramatic effect, “or at least I want there to be,” Eddie chuckled, breaking character as his voice snapped back into its normal cadence. “Originally I was just going to have it be that the old crone is a kind of sorcerer but we already sort of figured that, you know? I feel like that’s too predictable. I want it to be something, I dunno, more interesting?”

You blinked as you willed your dopey mouth to move. “So she’s, um, going to be the final boss I take it?”

“Yeah, but that’s like, totally predictable right?”

“Hmm.” Resting your elbow on the desk and your finger between your lips, you thought for a moment. “What if she’s like, I dunno, possessed by something else? Like maybe there’s an even darker force at work and it’s just using her as a puppet or something?”

Eddie’s eyes lit up like Christmas. “I like the way you think.” His voice was tinged with a playful darkness.

You tucked your fingers behind your ear in reflex. “I mean I have no idea what it would be, but…”

“No—no that’s a good place to start. I think I actually have an idea of who could do that sort of thing, like in the monster manual. He’s a sort of… necromancer.”

You nodded. “Oh yeah, that sounds plausible enough. Maybe there’s some sort of clue that gets left behind when she dies or something. Maybe there are like, markings on her body or some sort of strange amulet or… something that would lead to clues about who might be behind this.”

Eddie nodded along, his eyes growing wilder with every word. “Hey uh,” he began, leaning in like he was about to share a secret. “I don’t… know if anybody’s told you lately but…” his soft breath feathered your cheek, “you’re pretty brilliant.”

It was the way he said it. Soft in tone, heavy with intention. Peering under his lashes like he wanted to kiss you. You swallowed, hard, as your heart pounded into your throat. “No uh,” you choked on your laugh, “not lately.” Breaking his gaze, you fiddled with your green grading pen and pressed your thumb nail into the gummy gripper.

With startling animation, Eddie grabbed a spare piece of paper from the pile on your desk and snatched the pen out of your hand.

“Hey!”

“Not like you were using it,” he teased, swiping your attendance clipboard to prop the sheet against.

Your mouth fell open. “Well… no… but—”

He turned the pen over in his hand and clicked it a few times. “So much power in this little tool.” Putting it to the paper, he etched a green mark that would form the first letter of your first name. “Hmm what grade am I going to give you?” he tapped the pen against his lips.

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh you’re grading me now?”

“Well you definitely have attention to detail down, so A for that.” His hand hurried across the page, flourishing as he marked the A.

You sat back in your chair, thoroughly amused. “How generous of you.”

His eyes crinkled as he scribbled against the paper, clipboard cradled in his left arm to shield it from you. “Let’s see, what’s next… oh I know. Creativity. A plus for that one.”

You rolled your eyes, a weak diversion for how hot your face was getting. “How ‘bout I give you an A plus for being a total cheeseball?”

“Ohh wit — A for that one too.” His tongue darted out, nimble hand dragging your pen across the page.

It was almost uncomfortable, the grip he had on you. How he could make you feel with a gesture, a word. “Ok enough flattery, give it back,” you said, reaching for the clipboard.

Eddie jerked it away. “Sense of humor, hmm, might have to give you a B for that one.” He shot you a smirk.

You balked. “Oh come on!”

“…B minus.”

A laugh escaped you. “Eddie!”

His eyes were full of mischief as he scribbled frantically against the paper. “What, never got a B before? First time for everything, sweetheart,” he jested with a firm shake of his head.

It was hard to be offended when your brain was short circuiting.

“Maybe we can work on it together,” he offered, biting back a snicker.

Your brain clicked back on with the glare you shot him. “Okay, that’s it.” You lunged for the clipboard, but he was slow on the juke this time. Your fingers made purchase with the masonite slab.

Gripping it like a lifeline, he practically dragged you across his lap as he lurched away. It all happened so quickly. The swift tug he gave, your hand jutting out to brace the first thing in proximity — his denim clad thigh.

There was a pause in the movement. Heat lit up your whole body, radiating from the point of contact.

His leg was warm and solid under your palm. So too was his shoulder nestled into yours as you reached across his lap, deeper into the bubble of his scent. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes, but in your close peripheral you could see his mouth; gaping just as yours was.

Recovered from shock, the tension resumed in his tugging, and you responded with equal and opposite force. Your hand remained planted. For balance.

“So serious!” Eddie teased, wild hair bouncing as he jerked.

“I am serious, give it back.” Maybe it was your bright, airy giggles that gave you away, but he didn’t seem convinced.

God he was strong. You could feel the tremble of his arm emanating through the clipboard. Feel the flex of his bicep against yours as you fought his strength. You allowed yourself, for just a moment in the struggle, to glance at the one furthest to you. To follow his white, angular knuckles down to his wrist and see tendons flex against blue veins. To trace the curve of his inked forearm, to the bend of his elbow, to the bulge of his bicep. Your eyes lingered there. At the swell under his velvet skin. It surprised you, how large the muscle was, so much that it caused your grip to slip for just a second.

It only made him tug harder, but not too hard, you noticed. Gentleman he was, trying to play fair. It was, however, hard enough to draw you further across his lap, further into his scent, close enough to slot your chest into his outstretched bicep and feel it tremble. You fought to regain your hold, hooking your fingers over the top and yanking back with an invigorated fervor.

“Wai-wai-wait I’m not finished! I haven’t even gotten to ‘plays well with others’,” he wheezed, breaking into a warm, bubbly chuckle right against your ear.

You could barely eke out words. Sweat dampened your hand against the denim as his thigh flexed with every tug. A large, strong muscle that glided and stiffened under his heated skin. “Give it back,” you gritted weakly.

Soft curls tickled your cheek, feathered your lips and nose. You could smell it deeper than ever; that bright shampoo, that warm musk radiating from his neck.

“What, you gonna give me detention?” he quipped, turning his head to steal a glance from you.

Your mouth hung open. It was the way he said it, so defiant and cocksure. Daringly taunting for someone whose face was blotched pink. “Yeah, write you up for being a smartass,” you choked out with a pointed tug while your other hand burned a hole in his thigh.

He gasped dramatically, pausing in the struggle. “You think I’m smart?” His tone was comically serious. It was scary how easy he could feign it on a dime.

You deadpanned. “I’ve been telling you that this whole time. Maybe you should pay more attention.”

“Oh I’m paying attention.”

“Oh yeah, to what?”

It was all you could do not to stare at the ridges of his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed, pink lips twitching, eyes darting between yours.

“That’s what I thought.” You seized the split second opening in his defense and snatched your dignity back.

His fingers clung desperately to the clipboard. “Ok—ok, I’ll give it back, I promise, just answer one question for me… about your book,” he panted, ghosting your lips with it.

It was those goddamn Bambi eyes that defeated you. Large, almond, pleading. His last, pathetic line of offense. “Fine,” you sighed.

“Is this a love story?” he murmured, close enough to taste his words.

They hung like a cloud. Heavy and potent. Threatening to burst. Hovering in the fractional distance between you.

“I—” you balked, voice trapped in your throat.

The tugging ceased. Arms went slack. Fingers dampened masonite and paper. Eyes flicked back and forth. Yours caught the dip in his lids as they lowered to your lips, the long, gentle curve of his lashes as he peered at you from under them.

You could not will your hand to move. It was glued there like his eyes were on you. Clammy fingers twitched against warm denim, itching to snake them further, to pull him closer, to commit each aching second to memory.

Your eyes dipped next, quick enough to see his nerves make subtle twitches in his smile lines. To catch the parting of his plush, pink mouth that drew you like a magnet. Your heartbeat drowned out any sounds of pinballs.

You could have done it. Moved your chin two inches. Snatched his pout.

Instead you swallowed and summoned a whisper. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

______

Your childhood home had gone rather unchanged since you had moved out of it. A little one-story ranch built in the 50s. Looking at it from the outside, it always amazed you that it could fit three bedrooms within its four walls. Plain and unassuming. White exterior, green shingled roof, a brick flower bed underneath the big bay window in front. Your mother had planted a tidy row of mums in it for fall. There was hardly a stray leaf to be found fluttering across the small, manicured lawn.

Inside you were greeted with the same paneled living room walls, painted powder blue now. The same family portraits from when you were seven, another from when you were ten, and then thirteen. Clean white carpet. Neat and orderly. Your old room had become a craft room soon after college. There was hardly a trace of you left. The Led Zeppelin and Beatles posters were the first to go, replaced with more tasteful decor like cross-stitched landscapes. A singer sewing machine was now perched on the desk you spent countless hours huddled over in study. Nick-knacks took up residence in your bookshelves. The purple walls were painted over with a powder yellow.

Mickey’s room remained largely unchanged. Bigger than yours, though you never had the heart to move over. It served as a guest room now, the full size bed still dressed in the quilt he used, the one your grandma made. Same cobalt blue walls. Your mother still dusted his trophies.

What was most different was the table that stretched from the small dining room part-way into the living room. It was decorated with candlestick holders that looked like turkeys wearing hokey pilgrim hats. Those were definitely new. You wondered where your mother picked them up.

Both you and your mom would assume your roles — hers as host, and yours as helpful. You would busy yourself with the little things first. Details like folding linen napkins just how she instructed; in cascading triangles. You would sit at the end of the table and press daydreams into them. Quiet fantasies of warm nights and summer winds. Folding in details like the scent of leather and smoke inside the van, the sweet country air gusting through the windows. Details like how you imagined freedom would taste — slick and hot, hungry and lazy with room for seconds.

Once finished, you placed your folded secrets where they belonged — under the dinner forks.

You were making yourself useful with a can of cranberry sauce when your relatives arrived. The kind with whole cranberries. Clamping the gummy handles of the can opener and twisting as the teeth bit into the metal lid. Last year you’d made your own. Simmered sugar and orange juice in a pot over a real flame in your own house, added plump red berries and heated them until they burst. Dan’s mom said it was her favorite thing on the table.

This year you scooped cold, jelly chunks into an plain glass bowl, running the spoon down the ridges like a washboard. You were tapping off the bitter excess when the front door cracked open, ushering the sound of familiar voices colored in casual pleasantries.

They would find you there eventually — in the kitchen putting rolls into a basket. It was effort, to smile and laugh and act like you were doing great. It was easier to act like you were busy.

You hadn’t seen them since Connie and Cameron’s wedding. A sweltering day in mid-July. The last place on Earth you wanted to be. You’d spent most of it swallowing your feelings. Washing down saccharine cake with acrid mimosas. Sitting at a vacant table littered with party favors and sweating, half-empty glasses while your relatives slow danced to I Want To Know What Love Is by Foreigner.

Your Aunt Helen and Uncle Larry spared no expense for their daughter and her new husband, from the country club venue to the live band. From the four course dinner to the three tiered tower of a cake.

Connie’s dress was beautiful. An ivory silk with princess puff sleeves and a train that stretched down the aisle. Like a limited edition Barbie still inside the box.

You hadn’t said much to her then — a tepid congratulations from behind a tired mask. It was all you could offer besides cash in a Hallmark greeting card. You doubted she noticed. She was busy anyway, as all brides were on their wedding day. It’s not like you were really that close to begin with. Not close in age with her being seven years your junior, not close in interests or hobbies. Not even close in proximity for most of her adult life, until recently.

What you remembered more than anything was the way your grandma looked at her that day — like she’d hung the moon. She’d looked at you like that before of course — adorned with sashes in the parking lot as you clutched your first diploma. In the shade outside the the stadium as you cradled your second. When you reached across the table to present your ring to her.

You were reaching across the table to place the steaming basket of rolls by the cranberry sauce when you caught that look again — at Connie, the Sears catalog between them blanking the napkins you’d placed so carefully.

“See, I was thinking about this matching set with the dresser and changing table. See how it’s sort of built in like that?” Connie explained, leaning in toward your grandmother at the head of the table.

Your stomach did a sinking somersault, eyes magnetized to her pastel pink fingernail tapping against the full spread of baby furniture.

“Oh my, well isn’t that convenient. Yes I do like the natural wood grain of this one, the lighter color,” your grandma added.

You tried to swallow it away. Pretend like you didn’t even notice. Like the cheering coming from the living room was summoning you. You could still hear them as your stocking feet crossed over the divide from the hard wood to the plush carpet.

“I was thinking the same thing. It’ll go nicely with the paper we’ve picked out for the walls. Oh shoot, I meant to bring the sample. Sorry, I’ve been so spacey lately.” Connie’s sticky sweet chuckle clung to your hammering ears.

Suddenly your mother’s Precious Moments collection had never been so fascinating. Looking past your anguished reflection in the glass cabinet, you drank in their big, dopey eyes. Vignettes of little cherub hands clutching flowers, posing as firefighters and dentists. Droopy eyed children sitting on see-saws and garden benches. Frozen in their perfect little worlds.

“Oh that’s quite alright dear,” your grandma’s gentle reassurance echoed from the dining room. “I can come over and see sometime after my knees are healed, plenty of time between now and April.”

You tried to blink away the image — your old craft room on Clementine painted pastel pink or blue, filled with furniture from the pages of Connie’s catalog. It probably was at this point. Your eyes burned a hole in a ceramic cherub head as heat rose in your veins.

The sound of a whistle drew your attention to your uncle and cousins crowded around your family’s meager television.

“Oh COME ON!” Larry bellowed as the plastic cushions squeaked under his shifting weight. “There’s no way that was a foul, you see that, Kevin?” he gestured to his son, slumped against the couch half asleep. “Total baloney.”

Cameron adjusted his glasses as he shifted forward. “Oh yeah his foot was totally on the line, I bet we can catch it on replay.”

“Where do they find these damn refs anyway? The academy for the blind? HA!” Larry sat back in his seat and cracked another beer, amused with himself.

You raked your eyes over the blurring sea of dolls again, drowning in your thoughts until one of them pulled you to the surface. On the middle shelf behind the one in the lab coat and stethoscope, this one stood in front of a big desk with a stack of books and an apple on it and held a large slab in front of her. You crouched down to read the fine print.

Report Card

Kindness…A

Mercy…A

Love…A

Faithfulness…A

Your stomach twisted into knots. Phantom touches ghosted over your hands and arms, wrapped themselves around your heart and squeezed. You caught your own eyes in the mirror behind the dolls — sad and droopy just like theirs, only painted with shame and longing instead.

Uncle Larry’s voice boomed through the room again. This time it was coming from the television while the Larry on the couch shushed your cousins like they were even making noise to begin with.

“At Bessler Ford we’ve always got the best deals, and this Thanksgiving we’re practically GIVING these cars away!”

“Hey you guys seen the new one?” Larry called out to the rest of the house.

The question was met with weak replies from Connie and Grandma looking up from the catalog in the dining room. You wondered if your parents even heard him from the kitchen. With lukewarm enthusiasm, you humored him with your attention, mind swimming with pinball thoughts, eyes glazing over as you stared at the screen. Then, like a sudden apparition, your mother emerged from the kitchen and snatched the remote from the end table.

“ZERO down, ZERO interest, we’re prating BEGGING you—”

Like a Wild West gunslinger quick on the draw, the TV blipped off with a fizzle.

“Aw come on!” Larry protested.

“Dinner’s ready, time to eat,” she stated firmly, her expression unamused.

As your family peeled themselves off the couch and shuffled over to the table, you found your seat on the carpet side of the divide.

Even with the extra leaf there was no fitting nine at a six person table, so there had been some improvising. The two tables were covered in linens you didn’t recognize. Starchy and stiff, a cream brocade with a fall leaf pattern that shimmered in the light. Your mom must have steamed them to get the creases out from the packaging. Though matching, they couldn’t hide the fact that they were different shapes.

Your side of the family took their places at the smaller square table, and your cousins found theirs at the rectangle.

Aunt Helen’s green halo of fruit jello jiggled as your dad triumphantly plunked the carved turkey in the center of everything.

It rested awkwardly on the seam between the two tables, a sloping butterball bridge.

You watched the juices gather at the lower end of it as everyone around you lowered their heads to utter the words of a half-hearted prayer, the meaning long forgotten with tired repetition.

Barely a second of silence passed before a manicured hand shot out from your left, reaching to steady the platter so it favored her side. “You know, it really was nice of you to offer to host,” Helen said to your mother across from you, “but perhaps next year we can have the honor. We have plenty of space for it.”

The suggestion was met with a tight lipped smile. “Next year we’ll be back at mom’s,” she quipped at her younger sister.

The tension was thick enough to slice. A heavy backdrop to the clinking of silverware against ceramic as servings were doled out. You busied your hands with the nearest thing to you — a warm bowl of mashed potatoes, dolloping a generous helping onto your plate and pressing a crater into the center with the back of the spoon. You passed the bowl toward your right to your dad at the head of the smaller square table.

It was your grandmother who broke the silence. “Helen you do have a lovely home, if you really wanted to host I wouldn’t be opposed,” she said, breaking the molded perfection of the green halo with her serving spoon. “Less work for me to do anyway.”

You caught it. The flicker of dejection in your mother’s eyes, cast down at the crisp table linens. Fleeting and momentary before her shoulders resumed their rigid posture, before she corrected her expression and reached across the table to usher a thick slice of turkey breast onto her plate.

Helen looked delighted as she plucked a roll from the basket. “Well thanks, mom. Besides, this time next year there will be ten of us.”

You stared down at your plate, shuffling your green beans with your fork.

The conversation would lighten up over steamy, buttered rolls and Betty Crocker stuffing. It would soften to a casual cadence about Cameron’s new accounting job at the dealership. How the pay raise from his previous job could afford he and Connie a house on Chestnut street. How the decorating had been going. How your dad was managing the hardware store this time of year.

You would sit there in silence and unfold your secrets; smooth the linen against your lap and feel your sweating hand on his rigid thigh; the ghost of his breath at your lips when he asked you if this was a love story. You would prod at your potatoes and indulge in the fantasy of closing the gap. Conjure the cradle of his plush cupid’s bow and taste his wicked grin. Swallow the sensation of how it might feel to have a belly full of him.

Your spoon broke the gravy dam, flooding your plate.

“Dear, aren’t you going to have any liver dressing? You’re the one who made it after all. It’s quite good, isn’t it?” Your mother asked you, glancing at your grandma.

You choked on your daydream. “I—um…”

“It’s kinda chunky,” Kevin commented through a mouthful. “I mean compared to how grandma makes it.”

Your grandma offered a sympathetic smile. “It’s a tricky recipe.”

She wasn’t wrong. It was tedious to put it mildly. It involved bread crumbs, cooked liver and ham, and a food processor. But it was a family recipe and she just had knee surgery so your thoughtful mother volunteered you to take up the reigns. How generous.

“It’s still quite good, isn’t it?” your mom asked her before turning back to you. “Why don’t you try some, you’ll see.”

You stared down at the square, pyrex dish. You never liked liver dressing. It looked like cat food cut up into little squares, the crispy edges making it only slightly more appealing. It was the texture that always got you. Mushy and homogenous. Admittedly you’d never actually tasted cat food but you wondered how it compared.

“No thanks, my plate’s already so full,” you said through feigned laughter.

There was that flicker in her eyes again, like the flames above the new ceramic turkeys.

“Mom, come on, I don’t…” you glanced around at your relatives, busying themselves with the contents of their own plates.

Your mother set her fork down. Her gaze flicked toward your grandma tucking her spoon happily into Helen’s jello. “Why don’t you try just one bite, sweetie.”

Huffing through your nose, you stared down at the dish, then back up at her. There was only one way this was going and you didn’t want to cause a scene. With a placid smile, you picked up the serving spoon and scooped a bite-size portion onto your plate, giving a single, solemn tap against the ceramic before setting it back in the tray.

You glanced around the still silent table, then back at your mother, still watching you intently from across the flickering candles. Defeated, you started down at the lump of mushy cat food on your plate. Scooping it up with your spoon, you brought it to your lips with a resigned sigh before opening your mouth.

It wasn’t terrible. The rich umami of the fat and the seasonings almost made up for the texture, and quite honestly, the chunks helped. You still didn’t like it. You would never like it. You’d been forced to eat it your whole life and your opinion still hadn’t changed. Whether your mother could accept that was another subject.

You swallowed, finally, to your relief and probably everyone else’s, if they were paying attention. “I’d give it a solid C,” you stated flatly. Your mother was not amused.

“C’s get degrees,” Larry added, laughing at his own joke.

Your dad tipped his head to you. “Well I’d definitely give it a higher grade than that, but I guess you are the expert when it comes to grades, huh?”

You humored him with a soft, pained smile, tucking into your stuffing again in hopes of replacing the taste in your mouth. You washed it down with a swig of champagne and the sweet tingle cleansed your palate.

They left you alone after that, with thoughts too loud for your beverage to drown out. Pinball thoughts and summer thoughts. Echos of bright laughter off tile flooring. A rich, warm hum at the shell of your ear. Words like timeless and sweetheart. Loud enough to drown out dull conversations for the duration of the meal.

“Mom can I go to Vinnie’s after this?” asked Kevin.

Helen shot him a stern look from across the table. “You may absolutely not go to Vinnie’s. I told you I don’t want you hanging out with that boy anymore.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Come on, it’s not a big a deal.”

“It absolutely is a big deal. I said no, and that’s final,” she said, punctuated by the stabbing of her fork into white meat.

Candles wavered in the tension as orange wax dripped down the sides. Not a sound aside from chewing and silverware against ceramic.

It was your dad who broke the silence. “Ok, I gotta know what Vinnie did.”

Connie bit back a smirk, eyes shifting around the table. “Vinnie got suspended for bringing,” she glanced at your grandma before mouthing, “pot to school.”

There was an audible stir from the table.

Your grandma clutched her chest. “At St. Michael’s?”

You bit your lip at her reaction, cheeks quivering as you struggled to keep a straight face.

“I know, mom. It’s appalling,” said Helen, “I really thought we could have avoided this sort of thing by choosing a private school.”

It was then that Larry turned to you. “Yeah, I bet you see this kinda stuff all the time at Hawkins, don’t you?”

It was a dig. You might have been polite but you certainly weren’t stupid. “Not as often as you think,” you said flatly, taking another bite of cranberry sauce to busy your mouth before something regrettable came out.

“You know, Kevin, I had a friend in high school who smoked pot, you know where that got him?”

Just what everyone needed, Uncle Larry’s wisdom. You sighed and stared blankly ahead. It was everything you could do to keep your eyes from rolling back into your head.

“Flippin’ burgers at Benny’s, that’s where,” he concluded before taking a swig of his beer. He set it down with solid thud, as if that made his point.

Kevin huffed and sat back in his chair looking more disappointed than convinced.

You thought about Eddie Munson again, perfumed with cigarettes and covered in tattoos. Thought about him at this table and wondered where he’d fit. Between you and your Aunt Helen? Across from your mother pretending to enjoy liver dressing? At the seam between the square and the rectangle?

There used to be ten at the table. Before that there were eleven.

Your most secret daydreams wafted in on summer winds. They hinged on the changing of seasons and circumstances. You thought about this table without your chair. Of the flickering candles in your mother’s eyes; the way they hinged on you.

Your hands toyed with the linen in your lap. As far fetched as a future was, you wondered, desperately, if both ends could ever meet.

If the two of you would ever have a place among the dolls.

______

Thanksgiving was Eddie’s second favorite holiday. After Halloween of course, for obvious aesthetic reasons. Having no extended family in Hawkins, his Thanksgivings had always been small. Some better than others. There was the one shortly after his dad went to jail for the first time. He was only six, but there were a few things he remembered — that there was no yelling at the table, that his mom seemed happy for once, and that it was his first Thanksgiving with Wayne.

Nowadays Eddie and Wayne were like passing ships. Wayne would come home from work after Eddie left for school and go to sleep shortly after he returned. The weekends were a little better, though Eddie had a tendency to sleep in late, so that left them a few hours for early dinners together when he wasn’t galavanting around or getting into trouble.

Over the past nine years, the two Munson men had developed their own Thanksgiving traditions.

Wayne wasn’t much of a cook, but each year he would go out and get the smallest turkey he could find and gather some essentials. The thing Eddie loved most was that Wayne always made it fun. He would always encourage Eddie to help in the kitchen, even when he was younger.

The first staple dish was a green bean casserole. It was easy enough even for an eleven year old to open a can of cream of mushroom soup, to scoop out its contents and mix it with shredded cheddar and green beans. Simple enough to sprinkle crispy onions on top and pop it in the oven. Eddie always felt like a chef putting it together.

The second staple dish was a baked mac and cheese. Wayne picked up the recipe from a coworker in West Virginia. It was pretty simple too. More hearty than your traditional stovetop Kraft. It involved heavy whipping cream, eggs, and three different kinds of cheese. Nothing compared to baked Thanksgiving mac fresh out of the oven. It was thick, and rich, and the cheese was browned to a crisp on top. The noodles had just the right amount of chew and the center was melted perfection.

As Eddie got older some new traditions developed. Wayne started letting him in on the beer when he turned 18. Something about “I know you’re doin’ it, might as well be doin’ it safe under my roof.” Wayne was pretty lenient about most things. More than anything, Eddie got the sense that Wayne just wanted him to feel like there a place he could call home.

There was one Thanksgiving tradition that stood above them all — the sacred text, the soundtrack to every Munson Thanksgiving — Alice’s Restaurant.

Every year like clockwork Wayne would dig the record out of his collection and Arlo Guthrie would accompany the two of them as they strained pasta, cracked eggs, and opened cans. He would spin his long-winded sermon, his odyssey, about one fated Thanksgiving and the trials and tribulations of dumping trash where it shouldn’t go and how it can spare you from getting drafted. The song was nearly twenty minutes long and took up one full side of the record. Wayne would play it over and over to the point where both of them had most of the damn thing memorized, which was difficult to do considering it was mostly just Arlo rambling a story over chords with the chorus thrown in here and there.

Tucking his legs underneath him, Eddie cradled his heaping plate, shifting his balance so that it didn’t end up in his lap when the couch cushion dipped as Wayne took his spot.

“Damn boy, I sure do hope your stomach’s as big as them eyes. Mine’s hurtin’ just lookin’ at all that.”

Eddie cracked a wicked smile and leaned in like he had some kind of secret. “You know, you can get anything…”

Wayne raised his eyebrows, playing along. “Anything?”

“Anything you want,” he quoted Arlo before shoveling a heap of stringy mac and cheese into his mouth.

Wayne brought his broad, calloused hand down on top of his head and gave his mop of curls a playful ruffle. Eddie chuckled through a mouthful, balancing the plate in his lap.

It was good like this. Sitting on the couch with a heaping pile of food. The B side of the record spinning with fuzzy familiarity as Charlie Brown’s Thanksgiving played quietly on the small TV in front of them.

He didn’t need a table to enjoy it. Besides, the couch was way more comfortable than any stiff chair. The paper towel tucked underneath his plate did as good a job as any to wipe his mouth. Eddie was thankful for moments like these, and Wayne more than anything.

“You still doin’ game night tomorrow?” he asked.

“Nah, school’s closed so I guess they get a pass,” Eddie answered, “I mean I thought about making everyone get together anyway but I dunno where we’d meet. Still gonna do band practice on Saturday though.”

“Oh yeah? Whatcha been practicing?”

“Uh, been kinda on a Sabbath kick lately. Hand of Doom, War Pigs, early stuff,” he said, barely denting his mashed potato mountain.

Wayne took a stab at his turkey. “Y’all sound pretty good. An’ I’m not just sayin’ that.”

“Well… thanks.” Eddie toyed with his food, running his fork along the solid, jelly ridges of the of cranberry sauce.

“You guys oughta play more places, maybe after you graduate.”

He raised his eyebrows as he chewed. “You sound awfully confident about that last part.”

“I am,” Wayne started, “after last Friday anyway. Got to meet that teacher of yours who’s been givin’ you all sortsa help.”

Eddie choked, shielding his mouth with his fist as he hacked mashed potatoes from his windpipe.

“Y’ ok Ed?”

“Yeah—yeah, just uh,” he wheezed. He met you? Jesus. He wasn’t sure if his head was spinning more over the lack of oxygen or the implications.

“Y’ know, she sure had an awful lotta good to say about you.”

“Did she?” Eddie asked between coughs. A deep embarrassment bubbled in his gut.

“Sure did. You really lucked out this year. She really seems to… I dunno. Get it. Get you. Real sweet young thing, I’ll tell you what.”

Eddie thought his mashed potatoes might end up on the carpet.

“Ain’t hard on the eyes either,” Wayne muttered before taking a sip of his beer.

“WAYNE.” Eddie wanted to crawl out of his skin. Dig a hole. Bury his own skeleton in the back yard between the laundry posts.

There was a glint in his eyes, like he was catching onto something. “What? A fact’s a fact.”

“Ok enough, please.” Eddie ran his hands down his heated face, certain he was absolutely crimson.

Wayne just chuckled harder, like the torture entertained him.

Suddenly he was eleven years old again. Standing outside the auditorium with his guitar slung over his shoulder as parents and classmates filtered out in droves.

“Come on boy, time to go.”

Eddie fussed with his stiff pleather jacket, looking left and right with a growing desperation. “Can we wait just like… five more minutes? I wanna tell Chrissy good job.”

Wayne’s eyes sparkled with a curious mischief, “Oh I see. Got a little crush huh?”

Eddie hardened his lips into a line and fumed. “I do not, I just wanna say good job. God.” He glanced around, growing claustrophobic, jacket suffocating him with heat. “You know what, let’s… let’s just go,” he huffed as he marched toward the glass exit.

What was he going to do? Storm off? Slam the door like a fucking child?

No. Instead, Eddie just sat there, staring a hole into his heap of Thanksgiving as the plate grew heavy in his sweating hands. Suddenly he wasn’t hungry anymore.

“Oh come on, Ed. I’m just teasin’.”

There it was again. The heat that lit his skin like fluorescent lights as he stared down problems he was too stupid to solve.

“It’s fine,” Eddie muttered, vision blurring as Snoopy doled out helpings on the television. The record skipped with a steady rhythm in the silence of its end.

You had met Wayne. He knew now, who you were to him. There was no unknowing that. What did he think? That he was going to bring you by some day? Introduce you as his girlfriend? Would Wayne even believe it or would that be a joke to him too?

In the countless visions of you that played out like tapes in his mind, this part always came in fuzzy. Now it was prickling static.

He wanted to get up; to wrap his plate in tinfoil and throw it in the fridge; retreat to his bedroom like he always did. But he was already doing a piss poor job at playing it cool and he knew that would only make it worse.

So he sat there and ate it. Swallowed his shame and frustration, chased it with a solemn resignation.

Sometimes he could almost forget. When the books sprawled out on the big desk came from his home and not his locker. When the names on your tongues were from fiction and not history. When impulse took hold of his hands and they took hold of yours.

Sometimes his visions were more unbelievable than his wildest campaigns. You, hammering your next novel into a keyboard. Him, surprising you with kisses and a sandwich prepared in a kitchen you both shared. A home together in some far off place that neither of you knew the name of yet.

Sometimes, in the bubbling laughter that clouded the space between you, he could almost forget his place.

By the time the credits rolled on the TV, he couldn’t stomach another bite.

“I think, uh,” Eddie looked down at the half-eaten mess on his plate, “I think my eyes were too big for my stomach.”

He got up without another word, dumped the scraps into the garbage, and resigned to his room.

______

Eddie fluttered open his heavy lids, adjusting his eyes to the darkness that swallowed him. It had been light out when he’d closed them, though he barely remembered doing so.

He wiped the drool from his face and peeled the now silent headphones off his sore ears. The clock on the nightstand painted his vision with a red neon glow; a tether back to reality. 7:07 PM.

Reaching toward his right, he pawed the air for the cord to the hanging lamp beside his bed and flicked it on when he made purchase with the switch.

Before the turkey’s tryptophan took hold, he had been enjoying the cool breeze at his face as he drove his wagon leisurely along the trail through the Ashmar forest.

Eddie squinted against the light and rubbed his eyes as he glanced down at your world in his lap, still open right where he left off. The weight of it was like an extra blanket; heavy like a hug. It beckoned him to stay in the toasty cocoon of his bed. Though he had half a mind to get up and take a piss, the world outside was steeped in November’s chill, so instead he took the path of least resistance and dove right back in.

As much as Cybelle was concerned about illness, it was difficult for them to travel together and still keep their distance, but they seemed to have figured it out. They picked up a small tent and collapsable cot while in Torgaard which worked well enough for sleeping arrangements. While on the move, Lazarus had his place; in the driver’s seat, and Cybelle had hers; in the caravan. She would busy herself over the wood stove, crafting strange food and concoctions while Lazarus tried his best to stay alert and steer the horse.

Sometimes she would peek her head out the large window atop the singular door and talk to him. He enjoyed those moments most of all. Lazarus was learning all sorts of new things; what daily life was like in Myrne, what the city looked like and how agriculture worked for them. What Myrnish people thought of the world beneath and what had surprised her about it so far. Namely the flora and fauna. The weather. How diverse it all was. The people too. He would often catch her studying plants when they stopped to camp; taking samples and storing them in jars, pressing them to pages, sketching little drawings in her thick leather book.

“You know I would love to visit Myrne,” he turned his head and called to her, “once this is all over anyway.”

Small, russet fingers curled around bottom of the ornate caravan window frame, followed by a pensive, crescent moon face. “Many people want to visit Myrne.”

“Right, well, not many people actually know someone from Myrne,” he added, “and I just happen to be so lucky.”

Cybelle’s eyes crinkled in a soft, sad smile. “I would love to show you,” she began, “but I know they will forbid it.”

The wheels of the caravan creaked along the dirt path, shifting their weight with a soft thud as they drove over a rock. “Even just one person? What if I wore a mask, like yours?”

Cybelle shook her head, “The council is very strict. Even merchants are not allowed beyond the docks. There have still been plagues, even with these rules. One in my lifetime. I was quite young but I still remember… more than I would care to. We lost… so many people.”

He could hear the sorrow twinge her voice. Lazarus gave a solemn nod, staring down at the worn leather reigns as they plodded along. “I’m sorry,” he offered, “I’m sure you knew more than a few of them.”

Cybelle hummed softly, folding her arms across the bottom of the window to cradle her head. “I know just about every family in Myrne.”

Sunlight laced through the trees, dappling the road in patches of shade and light. They hadn’t seen another soul in miles. Perhaps he was becoming a bit stir crazy from all the driving but the further they plodded, the louder the questions that rolled around in his head became.

“Forgive me if this is, uh,” he searched for the word in the leaves, “inappropriate, but with such a small population, how do you prevent, um,” his fingers toyed at the nape of his neck, “like, accidentally marrying your second cousin?”

To his relief, it earned a big, bright laugh from Cybelle, “We are not that small, around three thousand. But yes, sometimes you must be careful,” she chuckled, propping her head against her arm. “We do keep records of such things.”

“Ah,” he confirmed with a single nod as his face bloomed with heat.

It encouraged a glimmer of mischief from Cybelle’s umber eyes. “There was a… how you say… practice, I suppose, long before the plagues when we were more open to outsiders where—”

The words were snatched out of her mouth by a sudden halt of the caravan, jerking both of them backward with startling force. The horse cried out, rearing to her hind legs in shocked protest.

“Woah—woah!” Lazarus braced himself against the wood panel in front of the driver’s seat and whipped his head around. Unable to see anything behind the mass of painted wood, he stumbled out onto the dirt to get a better look. “Just keep Turnip calm!” he called to Cybelle as she clambered off the floor.

He scanned the perimeter of the wagon. There was nothing he could see right away, that was until he looked down. Two thick vines, moving like snakes, were actively coiling themselves around the spokes of the wooden wheel. They were covered in tiny, glass-like thorns, and they seemed rather perturbed. He imagined it might have had something to do with running them over. Lazarus cursed. “We’re gonna need uh—a blade of some sort,” he shouted.

“There’s the knife I was using by the stove,” Cybelle called back, running her hand gently along Turnip’s dapple grey neck.

“Uhh, I think we need something bigger, come take a look at this.”

Cybelle gave Turnip a soft, final pat as she turned to follow Lazarus’ voice around to the back of the caravan. She gasped when she saw it.

“Ever seen one of these… monstrosities in your books?” he asked, gesturing to the vines.

Cybelle crouched down, looking more fascinated than horrified, marveling at the way they moved, like prowling serpents. “No,” she whispered. “They must be very strong though, to stop us like that.”

Watching them coil around the spokes filled Lazarus with an eerie dread. He shuddered to think what he would find if he followed their length into the forest. That was when he remembered the wood axe. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “Please just… keep your distance.”

The axe was on the floor when he found it, as was the kettle, and the utensils, and dozens of other objects that had been launched from their careful placement. Lazarus left the caravan with a heavy sigh.

“Alright, step aside,” he said, tapping the handle of the axe against his open palm.

Cybelle scurried backward, clearing a safe distance.

Gripping the smooth wood, Lazarus approached the vines. He shuffled his boots into the dirt as he widened his stance, taking aim about a foot from the wheel as the menacing serpents continued their slow coil. He swung with his full force, and just like chopping wood, he let the weight of the axe do its job. It severed the vines with a clean chop. Like snakes without heads, they recoiled into the forest. He swore he heard them hiss.

Leaning against his long axe with a proud flourish, Lazarus glanced over at Cybelle. She seemed more captivated by the what remained of the plants than his demonstration, much to his quiet disappointment.

Cybelle shuffled over to the wheel, fascinated by the green, glassy specimens. They had fallen to the road in a heap upon severance.

“Maybe we ought to invest in a sword when we get to Fenwood,” Lazarus half-joked, “More dangerous out here than I—”

The vine that shot out from the forest snatched the words right out of his mouth, morphed them into a scream as it seized his forearm with a searing sting. In an instant he was on the ground, clawing at the dirt with his other hand as the vengeful, severed serpent lurched him from the road.

With startling quickness, Cybelle stumbled to her feet again. She snatched the axe from the ground and chased after him.

The pain was blinding as it dragged him. Small, glassy hooks like a fire in his forearm. It made the sticks that scraped his body feel like tickles. The rocks that raked under him like a dull massage. Though his other hand flailed desperately at ferns and the damp, dead leaves that blanketed the forest floor, there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t pull back. He couldn’t stop. All he could do was scream and panic. It was hard to tell how fast he was really going, how much time had actually elapsed. The seconds felt like agonizing hours. But when he heard the dull thud of footsteps by his head, there was a glimmer of hope for his misery to end.

A guttural scream proceeded a loud THWACK.

It would seem Cybelle had decent aim, because he wasn’t moving anymore. Clambering off the forest floor, he righted himself as quickly as he could in his spinning, pounding world. It was anyone’s guess how long they had before the next retaliating strike, and he wasn’t about to play the odds.

“RUN,” Lazarus shouted, bolting toward the caravan as Cybelle kept pace. The axe seemed even larger clutched in her small hands. Under any normal circumstance he would have been a gentleman and taken back the burden, but this was anything but normal.

He didn’t even look at his arm. He didn’t have time. He didn’t want to. He could feel it though — the blood as it trickled down his wrist, the sting of the thorns that were likely still lodged there.

Both he and Cybelle were barely on the driver’s platform before he was at the reigns, commanding Turnip to move with a quick snap of the leather. The dappled grey horse trotted forward with a rare sense of urgency.

Lazarus leaned back against the driver’s seat, chest heaving, more grateful than he’d ever been in his life to feel the cool wind at his face. They were a fair distance up the road before he even looked down. The sleeve of his white linen shirt was completely saturated in a wet crimson that clung to his skin.

Cybelle emerged from the caravan with an armful of bandages and jars and took the seat to the left of him on the other side of the door.

Lazarus stared blankly ahead, mind still numb from the ebbing panic.

“Let me see your arm,” Cybelle said gently.

He met her large eyes, now brimming with a soft concern. Slowly, he raised his trembling arm to hover in the space between them; the gap between the seats.

Cybelle’s fingers twitched above the soaked linen. Gingerly pinching the cuff of his sleeve, she peeled it back to reveal his angry wound.

Lazarus turned his head toward the forest, unable to look. “How bad is it?” he asked dejectedly.

Cybelle paused for a moment, assessing the damage. “There are still some thorns, I need to pull them out. They are not too deep though,” she reassured. “You will be alright.”

It was the warmth in her voice that made him turn his head to face her, to face his wound — the mangled trail of lacerations that encircled his arm. Some of them did look quite deep, to him anyway. The bleeding seemed to have stopped on its own for the most part, thanks to his shirt.

Shifting so that her feet now faced him, Cybelle scooted forward in her seat so that her lap was below him and grabbed a pair of tweezers. Her hands hovered above his arm, and for a moment Lazarus wasn’t sure if it was the rocking of the wagon or her proximity to him that caused her hands to tremble. There was a deep fear in her eyes, and not just from the wound.

His palm faced up at her, close enough to feel the heat of her body.

In their brief time together they had always kept their distance. Lazarus in the driver’s seat, Cybelle in the caravan. Separated by walls and windows, tents and masks. At night, she would indulge him with her naked smile from across the campfire. Blinding and brilliant, like the crescent moon above them.

Lazarus held her eyes from across his offering; a bloody bridge that hovered in the space between them.

With hesitant acceptance, she lowered her fingers slowly, then her eyes, guiding his arm to rest across the bandage in her lap.

The wink of her tweezers in the sunlight encouraged him to study the trees again. He gripped the leather reigns to brace himself.

Her touch was delicate and tentative as she steadied his arm, like his skin was a hot iron, and hers at risk to burn.

He flinched when she pulled the first thorn.

“Sorry,” Cybelle soothed.

He flinched again when she pulled the second. And the third, fingers writhing against the warm silk of her dress.

“I know it hurts, but you must stay still,” she quelled.

Lazarus allowed himself a glimpse back at her large, uneasy eyes that shone over the crescent moon. “H—how many more are there?” He didn’t dare lower his gaze to count.

With deeply furrowed brows, Cybelle scanned his arm, “Perhaps…fifteen?” she guessed. “They are small, it is difficult to say.”

Lazarus gave a heavy sigh and slumped into the seat, straining to find some comfort in the greenery that passed them. His head bumped dejectedly against the wagon as it swayed along the path. Fifteen. He tried not to think about it, but instead found himself wondering how badly it would scar. His fingers trembled as he braced himself for the next sting.

Instead he felt a hand.

Featherlight touches at the heart line of his palm.

Lazarus glanced over his shoulder, expecting to find fear in those deep, upturned ovals. Instead there was something much softer.

It was hiding just under the curve of her lashes, in the tender brush of her fingertips — a quiet fascination.

His chest rattled, with more than just adrenaline. Her eyes would surely raise at any moment and he braced himself to meet them, but instead she did something much bolder.

She lowered her palm.

It nestled into the groove and slope like it belonged there. Her skin like warm, russet earth against the vast, snowy landscape of his. When her fingers got brave enough to curl around the back, he allowed his pale digits to follow suit.

They sat like this a moment, staring at the knot of palms and fingers with a gentle awe. Her cheeks dimpled under the ivory crescent, and despite the radiant sting, Lazarus found himself smiling too.

Finally, Cybelle met his eyes and readied her tweezers again. “Are you ready?”

Lazarus tightened his grip. “I am now,” he said softly.

There were sixteen thorns. Lazarus counted. They fell one by one to the floor of the caravan. He didn’t flinch at all this time.

She was quick and methodical, and when her work was finished, she painted his wounds with a soothing balm that smelled of mint and fresh green herbs. The sting faded to a tingle.

What he noticed more than anything was how her fingers lingered as they left his hand to wrap the bandage.

“Thank you,” Lazarus uttered, running his hand along the neatly spiraled ridges of the dressing.

Cybelle gave a singular, dutiful nod and shyly gathered her supplies. She resumed her place, inside, and got to work reestablishing order in the mess of objects strewn about the floor. It was quiet the rest of the ride into Fenwood.

As they approached the city, the trees grew denser, the path grew darker. Moss hung like tapestries over lichenous limbs. Frogs croaked in chorus from every direction. A peaty moisture hung heavy in the air.

All signs pointed toward the same conclusion — they were entering the boglands.

Eddie sat back against the heap of pillows and rubbed his arm. The one with the puppet tattoo.

He would always wonder what you said about him, to Wayne. The words you used. Verbatim. You were always so good with them. He would watch you wield them every day, like a weapon or a spell. You could paint worlds for him as quickly as his eyes could gather them.

It was when he was next to you that you seemed at a loss, like the concrete walls were listening, like they would shatter the illusion the two of you had conjured. It was safer to speak with your eyes, your hands, your laughter.

Despite the volumes left unspoken, the questions left unasked and unanswered, the volume in his lap had answered one:

That it was, in fact, a love story.

______

A/N: I want to thank everyone for their patience and support while I wrote this chapter. I fought a lot of inner dragons to bring it to you, but I’m in a much better mental place now. I’m learning so much about myself in the process of writing this story, my first one of this length, and how best to keep my inner flame alive. It can be scary when it dims, but it's bright as ever now.

I was admittedly very nervous about including so much family backstory for Teach, but I felt it was important for the telling of the story. The Precious Moments teacher doll does actually exist. It’s called “Love Never Fails” and it came out in 1984. I couldn’t have conjured it better if I tried.

As always, nothing encourages me to continue writing this story more than hearing what you think about it in comments, reblogs, and asks. It's truly the most rewarding thing for me as a writer.

I’ll be serving up some piping hot drama in 13 so stay strapped, folks!

Taglist: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @wroteclassicaly @kissmyacdc @mantorokk-writes @loveshotzz @trashmouth-richie @carolmunson @wordscomehither @munson-blurbs @blueywrites @alottanothing @bebe07011 @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @bibieddiesgf @idkidknemore @alizztor @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @alienthings @eddiemunsonsbitcch @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @catherinnn @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @big-ope-vibes @ruby-dragon @ladylilylost @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @chaoticgood-munson @hanahkatexo @eddiemunsonsbedroom @beep-beep-sherlock @averagemisfit03 @vintagehellfire @haylaansmi

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson older reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x teacher!reader #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson angst #don't stand so close to me

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boowritess · 2 months

Text

rubbish days

141 member of your choice x reader

maybe you're the regular barista, bartender or waitress at the cafe/bar he often frequents. or you're the uni student, worker, or just an average civilian he often crosses because you guys happen to live close or frequent the same grocery store? perhaps are on the same bus or train?

but whoever you are, he sees you often enough that the both of you look at eachother with familarity and offer a small nod or smile. and if by chance circumstances lead you both to be close, maybe you both chat about the weather or how busy the day is.

on this particular day, he is so quick to spot you amongst the crowd or maybe turning the corner in a store- honestly it's embarrassing to him how quick he is to catch you in a crowd. he can't help it, you brighten his day.

but this day, your eyes don't meet his. there's no small nod or small smile. rather your face is blank and something is off. he can see it in your eyes and the way you stare blankly in front of you. there's a dullness to them, a slight sadness.

and before he can stop himself, "weathers shit this morning, eh?" he speaks, in that familar deep tone of his that draws your eyes to finally recognize him. though it seems to take a bit. "just bout saw three people slip on the pavement." when there's a lightness that starts to rise he adds, "though i might've been one of them."

his heart nearly fucking gave way when a smile falls on your face and then you laugh and he swears he died. but when you say nothing more and look away for a brief second.

he nudges you softly, barely a nick against your arm but it's enough for you to look up at him. "you alright, sweetheart?" he asks in a gentle tone. though he feels like he shouldn't of asked- because at the end of the day he is a stranger to you other than a familiar face you see in public. before he can apologize, you let out a deep sigh and shake your head. though you don't say anything else.

"then how about i get you something warm to drink? if you're busy we can stop by the coffee cart. it's a rubbish day and something warm might do ya good, though only if you want to, sweetheart." he speaks to you with a softness, in a way that lets you know that you can simply decline and maintain the status between you.

but then you find yourself nodding, and the walls you have built today are cracking when your shoulders slump. "that would be good. thank you." your words are soft and a little cracked but it makes him smile gently and lead the way to get a hot beverage.

maybe you don't say anything about what you're going through. maybe you simply get to know him.

but maybe you do tell him. tell him the weight that has been on your shoulders. tell him all about the current mental struggle going on in your brain since the day wore on or maybe when you first woke up. maybe you tell him about upcoming anxieties from work or uni. or maybe you just tell him you're tired. or how alone you feel at the moment. or how everything is just going down hill.

you don't know why you tell him but when you look at him - well actually when he looks at you, he has an aura that makes it seem he is willing to go to battle with every single thing you say. so you can't help it. especially when all he does is not look at you like a freak - because maybe that's what you feel like - but he looks at you like he truly understands what you're going through.

so when you're finished. there's a hint of regret at having dumped all this onto him. though it's washed away when he takes your hand in his and he offers a soft smile, "thank you for telling me, sweetheart. you've done something not many can and talked about what's going. that's a sort of strength that not many could do and i'm proud of you for doing so."

then he's giving you his number, "whenever you want. whenever you need. day or night. for a talk or even to go do something. i'm yours."

the implication of his words having an unknown deeper meaning.

maybe from there you both stay and chat a little longer. maybe you have to go or he has to get back to what he was doing.

whatever happens next, all he can do is beam with pride when he see's that spark of life in your eyes return. at how you visibly brightened.

from that day forward. the dynamic between you two changed. from strangers to friends. and with the time that you need, friends to lovers.

a/n: ya'll i tried so hard to make it a you choose thang. but i just needed a comfort fic (cause homie is going through it mentally) and didn't know which 141 to choose lol. anyways i hope ya'll are doing okie mentally, physically and maybe spiritually. don't be afraid to reach out whether to me or someone else. ya'll ain't alone- especially my mentally struggling betches i love u and see u. drink some water xx

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ador3sturniolo · 6 months

Text

Stargirl

An - omg I feel like I haven’t posted in a year what. Okay so earlier this week I went to a hockey game, and something happened while I was there and I wanted to write a fic about it. And I wanted to do Nate because I love Nate, and we need more Nate fics out there asap. And the song has nothing to do with the fic, it was the song I kept playing while writing this 😭

Paring - Nathan Doe X FemReader

Summary - You go to one of Nate’s hockey games

Warnings - Kissing, NOT PROOFREAD

Requested - Nope

ALSO YALL, I FIRST WROTE THIS IN THE BEGINNING OF OCTOBER SO THERE WILL BE HALLOWEEN THEMED THINGS HERE, SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPLOAD

I hadn’t realize how late I had slept in until I heard my alarm go off more than 30 times, most of which I had just sleep through. I check the time and see it’s a little past 3. Shit. I had so much to do and had it all planned out. I was to clean my house, get a gift for Nate, go grocery shopping, and decorate for fall. I’ll just eat some food while I’m out but right now, I need to clean up my place. I have u til 6:30 to get everything done on my list. Considering Nate’s game starts at 7.

I clean my house, lighting candles and turning on fairy lights I have setup around my house. I take a quick shower and put on my freshly clean clothes. I do a slick back bun, not trying to do anything fancy. I get into my car and make a quick stop at Starbucks to get a drink. I also did an online order for my favorite lunch place in town so it’s ready for pickup when I get there. I pickup my lunch and eat in my car as I drive to target. I put my Starbucks in the cup holder of my cart and push it too the food section.

I grab my list of food and start putting it in my cart. I decided to grab some cookie dough for me and Nate to back after his game. I go over to the floral section and grab a bag of white, blue, and purple pair and place it in my cart. I’m on my way towards check out when I spot the cutest pair of matching pj sets. There was a vampire, pumpkin, and ghost option. They were all so cute but I decided to get the ghost ones. I check out and go home to eat dinner and decorate.

I decided to make something, quick, easy, and delicious. I play my fall playlist as I grab my last year bin full of pumpkins, signs, pillows and blankets. It only takes me around 30 minutes considering I cleaned earlier. I looked at the time, with not much time left I had to get ready. I put the totes back and head to my room. I put on a pair of leggings and his hockey jersey that he gave me. I take out my hair and do two French braids. I take some face paint type makeup I have and write his number on my cheek.

I put on my shoes and grab his flowers and teddy I bought him earlier that week. I grab a blanket so I don’t get cold at the rink. I drive to the rink in only 10 minutes. I head inside and get a ticket. I’m greeted inside by the triplets. They all look over at me and walk my way.

“Finally, we’ve been waiting for like 5 hours” Nick says rolling his eyes

“Nick, we got here 5 minutes ago-“ Matt chimed in

“Oh hush.” Nick says, crossing his arms, clearly annoyed.

“I’m so excited to watch my boyfriend play!” Chris says clapping his hands. Nick, Matt and I slowly turn towards Chris, giving him a confused look.

“Fine, I can’t wait to watch her boyfriend play” Chris says sarcastically but rolling his eyes.

“That’s what I thought.” I say pushing Chris a little bit jokingly. We all walk to the rink, getting a rush of cold air as the door opens. I could feel goosebumps approaching my skin. I wrap the blanket around my shoulders and sit down with the triplets. We sat and waited for the game to start. It only took a couple scrolls on insta before the players came walking out of the locker room and onto the ice to warmups. It wasn’t hard for me to find him, considering I had his number imprinted into my brain. Before I the warmups ended, I went to the snack bar and got myself a water and chips for me and the triplets. I head back just in time for the game to start. We all stand up and start to cheer, like the rest of the crowd. I only had my eye on one player the whole time. Every time he scored a point and I would jump up and down and scream for him. The three looked at me like I was insane but I didn’t care.

The game was over and Nate’s team won! We all wait for Nate outside of the locker room to finish up, but before he comes out I need to use the restroom. I come back not too long and see the brothers talking to a man I wanted to hug the first I saw him on the ice. He noticed me and started walking towards me. I ran up to him and gave him a hug.

“You did great tonight, I’m so proud of you.” I say giving him a peck on the lips.

“And these are for you.” I handed him the flowers and teddy bear, he then looked up at me with a smile that would make my heart melt.

“Thank you so much baby.” He said as he went to the side of me and wrapped his arm around my waist. He turned back and waved to the brothers as he started to walk with me out of the building. I help him load his things into my car, and we get inside the car after.

“So I had a really fun night planned out for us, but if you don’t want to do it, that’s okay and we can do something else.”

“It’s whatever makes you happy my love” I couldn’t help but blush at his words.

“So, my house is all decorated and I had candles going so it smells really good in there, and the house is clean so a bonus! And I was thinking we could make cookies and watch a movie together? And there’s also a surprise with that.” I say almost out of my seat from how happy I was.

“If that’s what you wanna do.” He says smiling back at me.

“Of course it’s what I want to do, but I wanted to know if u wanted to do it.” I say turning on my car, pulling out of the parking lot.

“I’m okay with anything you want to do.” He says looking out the window. I smile as I continue to drive back to my place. I pull into my driveway and get out of my car.

“Let’s take showers first tho.” I say unlocking my front door. He nods as I unlock the door and walk in. We take off our shoes at the front and walk to my room where my shower is.

“I’ll go first, I’ll be quick.” I say as I start to take out my hair. I hop in the shower and wash my face, get out, and wrap myself in a towel. I walk out into my room and too my closet, telling him it’s his turn on my way. He gets off the small couch I have in my room and head into the bathroom. I quickly get dressed into the pajamas I just bought for us. I sit down at my vanity and start doing my night skincare. I hear the shower turn off and with Nate walking out with the towel around his waist. He points at the pair of clothes on my bed.

“What’s this?”

“It’s yours, to wear! Tonight! To match with me!” I say turning around, show I’m in the matching set. He gives me a sigh but walks with it into the bathroom to get changed. I do a little clap of achievement, as I turn back around to finish my skincare. I hear the bathroom door open and see him walk out, giving me a sigh and looking down in disappointment.

“Hey! You look amazing! Don’t give me that I hate this energy, it’s supposed to be fun!” I say putting all my things away and getting up.

“I feel so weird in this.” He says throwing his hands like a baby

“Why? You look so cute!” I say walking towards him.

“Can I just take the shirt off? It feels tight.” He says scratching his neck

“Not yet! I wanna take a picture” I say grabbing my phone out. His arm wraps around my waist as I put the mode to 0.5x and turn on the flash. We smoosh our heads together doing a kissy face as I take the picture. I look at the picture to make sure it was okay then I put my phone down.

“Okay, let go make some cookies” I say kissing his cheek and walking out of my room. He follows close behind me. I grab a pack a Pillsbury cookies from the fridge and preheat the oven.

“How about you put on 6, and I put on 6” I say grabbing a tray from my cabinet.

“Good with me” He says giving me a smile

“Can I take my shirt off now?” He says whining

“Fine, Stop acting like a baby” I say as I start to put on my cookies.

We both finish putting on our cookies and put them in the oven. I walk over to my couch and turn on the tv.

“What would you like to watch?” I say looking up at him.

“I don’t know, you pick.” He says sitting down next to me

“Mhm, Corpse Bride? The Nightmare Before Christmas?” I say leaning back and laying my head on his chest

“Corpse Bride, The Nightmare Before Christmas is a Christmas movie.”

“No it’s not!” I say as I scoff

“It is tho!”

I shake my head and get up to go take the cookies out. I put them on a plate and organize them in a cute way. I bring the plate to the couch along with a blanket.

“Hold the plate while I put the blanket on us.” I say handing him the plate. I sit down, covering our legs and a little bit of my waist. He sets the plate down on the blanket.

“Do you like tonight?” I say putting my head on him again.

“Of course” He says kissing my head. I smile in happiness that I was able to make tonight special.

“I love you” I say lifting my head up.

“I love you more” He says giving me a peck on my lips

—————————————————————

An - OML I AM SO SORRY ML FOR NOT POSTING FOR A MONTH. I KNOW THIS ONE IS BAD BUT I FELT LIKE I NEEDED TO POST SOMETHING OR I CANT FUNCTION RIGHT SO HERE IS THIS 🫶🏼

#nathan doe #nate doe #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo

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kodydrs · 7 months

Text

The Vice-Admiral’s Daughter - Portgas D. Ace ( II )

➥ the first arguement

a/n: I might have this done by next week (i’m jinxing myself rn). writing this all feels so repetitive 😭. but hope everyone is having a wonderful day, so why not reblog / leave a reply, or send in a request / ask?

warnings: ace x fem!reader, pirate!ace x marine!daughter!admiral, fxm, 17y/o!reader, 19y/o!ace, argument, tension, non-con (but not really), pet names, single used of “y/n”, not proofread (it’s never proofread), i’m bad at tagging

summary: a series of you and ace’s “first times” - you haven’t seen ace for almost 2 years, but suddenly the pirate pops up in a bar.

ib: i lied an forgot to mention it in the first post, but the pirate x marine idea came from this post by @tinfairies

request: yes / no

The next time you met Ace was almost a year and a half later at a similar bar, but this one wasn’t in Loguetown. Instead, you were partaking in a Marine Training. Night had come and training had ended, so you had all decided to get drinks at the local bar (courtesy of the Vice-Admiral, of course). It was going to be a good night until you spotted a familiar orange cowboy hat.

‘Can you guys excuse me for a minute? I’ve gotta do something quickly.’ You told the other cadets. You got a response of “Oh come on, Y/n.” and “But we’re sitting down for the first time all day”, all of which you ignored. Not drawing attention to yourself from anyone in the bar, you walked up to the counter and took a seat beside the pirate.

Ace looked at you through the side of his eye, having to do a double take before realising who you were.

‘Hey. It’s the Vice-Admiral’s daughter!’ He shouted, resulting in a merciless jab to the ribs. He doubled over, wincing as he smiled up at you. ‘Long time, no-‘

‘You need to leave.’ You hissed as you ordered yourself a drink. He just chuckled.

‘We both know that isn’t going to happen, sweetheart.’ He says, taking a small sip of his drink.

‘Ace. There are other marines here. This whole town is swarmed with marines at the moment. You will get caught.’ You whisper-yell, chugging your own drink like it was a shot of water. Ace watched in amazement, a devilish smirk crossing his face as he leans in to whisper in your ear.

‘What happened to “I don’t drink”? Last time I saw you, I had to force you into having just one and now here you are, drinking like a sailor. What did I miss?’

‘I aged.’ You reply blatantly, like it’s the most obvious answer. ‘Last time I saw you, Ace, I was 16. It’s been almost 2 years.’

He laughs, ruffling your hair playfully and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

‘Well you certainly aged well.’ You were quick to brush his hand away, grabbing him by his hat's drawstrings and dragging him from the bar once again.

‘You’re an asshole. And an idiot.’ You curse loudly, turning heads as you cart him down the main street and into an empty alley. ‘What are you even doing here?’

‘I was bored.’

If he looked close enough, Ace might have seen the vein on your forehead pulsing and your patience snap.

‘I’m sorry. You’re in a highly marine populated area, on the busiest day of Marine training, because YOU’RE BORED?!’

He looks at you nonchalantly, shrugging.

‘That is what pirates do, sweetheart.. We get bored sometimes.’

You pinch the bridge of your nose and groan, enciting a smile from the older.

‘How is it that you always manage to be in the worst place at the worst time? It’s like that’s your devil fruit power instead of fire fist shit.’

His smirk widens and he leans back against the wall. ‘That’s because I'm not afraid to take risks.’ He winks mischievously, stepping forward towards you before stopping short when he notices your expression.

‘What's wrong, baby girl?’ He asks, tilting his head slightly.

‘I-uh.’ You’re struggling to find words, and you know that boosting Ace’s already large ego. ‘You’re a pervert.’

He bursts into laughter, making you flinch.

‘Oh ho! That’s quite rich coming from you, princess.’ There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes.

‘Rich coming from me?’ You fight, a surge of confidence flooding you. ‘You took advantage of a 16 year old girl while she was intoxicated.’

He steps closer, towering over you and you feel all the light around you disappear. It’s scary.

‘If I remember correctly, and let us both remember I was the sober one, you said something along the lines of “I want to kiss you so bad right now” and me, not being a “pervert” , told you to try saying it while you’re sober. so no, Y/n. I took advantage of no one.’

Your face flushes red, internal regret ringing in your ear as every alarm goes off. Your flight response, your “crawl into a ball and cry” response, and your fight response.

‘You’re lying.’

‘Oh yeah?’ His voice dropped down to that octave you remembered from your first drink. That animalistic tone as he slowly runs a finger down your covered stomach before hooking onto your belt. ‘Then why are you so nervous?’

You’re doing your best to not break eye contact with the man, but your breathing becomes deep and heavy as he leans in close enough for you to feel his breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear.

‘Tell me, babygirl. What exactly did I do wrong?’ He grips tighter onto your belt, pulling your forwards until your chests are pressed together closely. ‘Just answer me, please.’

You can’t form words, and all that comes out when you try to answer is a quiet whimper, like an animal caught in the hunters trap. Ace just laughs, placing a hand on your hip.

‘Now… that isn’t very convincing, princess.’ He pulls away and you gasp for air, your body finally registering that you were breathing. You can feel how hot your face is, and it only makes you more embarrassed which adds to the heat.

‘I-‘

‘You’re trying to tell me I forced you?’ Ace says, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. ‘I did no such thing, ok? What I’m doing now? This is forcing. But on that night, I took you back to the tavern because I didn’t know where you lived and you were too drunk to give me directions. From there, the bartender should’ve taken you home. So please don’t accuse me of taking advantage of you. We had a deal, remember?’

You nod weakly, breathing normally as he releases your jaw and brings his hand to the side of your hand, caressing your cheek gently.

‘I… I’m sorry. For accusing you, and- everything else.’

He looks at you with that dark expression for another second before his signature bright smile lights up.

‘It’s alright. I don’t hold a grudge. Especially not with my friends. And you were so drunk. You wouldn’t have remembered anything from that night, anyways.’

You laugh quietly, wiping your eyes of the few tears that had threatened to spill.

‘…yeah. But I wasn’t drunk.’

‘Oh my god.’ He shouts, laughing at the fact you’re still defending your case after a year and a half. Regardless of the actions prior, he pays your head and ruffles your hair. ‘Get back to your drinks. I’ll get out of here while you distract them, ok?’

You both laugh, but nonetheless split ways. You go back to the other cadets, forgetting you’d even seen Ace by the 5th drink.

taglist: reply to be added

all rights and reserves are copyright to kodydrs on tumblr. this material is not to be copied or translated.

⇦ part I

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linos-luna · 8 months

Note

can i have my very first request? 🥺 this is like a Jeongin fluff one (?) but i want an imagine where the reader randomly gets a kitten and Jeongin was like so happy that i bought us a pet 😭💕 but later on i get more attention to the cat and Jeongin was like getting sooo jealous and he turns more obsessed with me something like that haha. thanks!!

Sounds cute!

————————————————————————

Kitty Cat ☁️🔪

Jeongin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: jealousy, some yandere behavior?, mention of somnophilia, a little suggestive

• 🦊 ————————————————— 🦊 •

You were so happy to get a new pet. It was unexpected but you couldn’t help yourself when seeing the kitten.

Your boyfriend was surprised but if it made you happy, he was happy. Well… for a little bit.

You named the kitten Mr. Mittens. He was a tuxedo cat and it looked like he had mittens over his paws.

Mr. Mittens went all over the house with you. You’d let him sleep in the bed and carry him around.

~~~~

One night Jeongin came home from work. He was exhausted and just happy to see you.

However, you weren’t at the door waiting for him. Or on the couch watching movies until he came home. You always waited for him.

Your boyfriend walked to the bedroom only to see you tucked in and sleeping with the kitten. You looked so adorable.

Jeongin quickly changed and laid next to you. He wanted to kiss you but you rolled to your side facing away, the kitten snuggling into your stomach while purring.

“Noona…” he said in a loud whisper while poking your side.

“Mm…?” You were half asleep and only moved slightly, not even turning to look at him. “Oh you’re back…. That’s good.”

Jeongin pouted. He was hoping to come home to you showering him with love. He loves that. He loves your attention.

~~~~

In the morning, Jeongin woke up seeing that you weren’t there. Instead just the little cat in your spot.

“Good morning, baby.” You say cheerfully while entering the room.

“Hi noona—…”

You walked past him then picked up the cat and kissed it’s head.

“Hi. I made breakfast!” You said with a smile while patting your boyfriend’s head.

Jeongin frowned. Where’s his kiss?

He followed you out and sat down seeing the pancakes on the table.

“They look good, noona.” He said while waiting for you.

“Thank you baby.” You smiled while sitting and putting the kitten on your lap.

Jeongin waited a moment before realizing that you started eating.

He didn’t mean to sound spoiled but when you made pancakes you normally would put the butter and syrup on for him and even get him a drink. But right now… nothing!

“Noona…? Are you doing anything important today?” He asked while cutting his pancakes.

“Hm… not really…” you replied while thinking about it. “I’m going to pick up some more cat food and groceries from the store but that’s it.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Yeah of course.” You said while handing him a napkin.

“Mr. Mittens isnt coming right?”

“Of course not, silly.” You laughed.

———

As the both of you looked around the store, you found the cat food you were looking for and some toys.

“Which one do you think he’d like?” You asked while looking at the different brands. “There’s so many!”

“I don’t know…” he mumbled with a shrug while standing with the cart.

“I’ll try this I guess?” You said while putting it in the cart.

“What do you want for dinner, baby?” You asked while looking at the list on your phone.

“Why don’t you ask Mr. Mittens…” he grumbled.

“Hey.” You paused. “Are you okay?”

“You’re spending lots of time with the cat…” he frowned.

“Aw. Jeongin.” You teased. “Is my baby boy jealous of a kitten?”

Your boyfriend blushed, looking around to see if anyone was listening.

“You just love being taken care of, hm?” You said with a pout while petting his hair. “You’re just so cute.”

“Noona please…” Jeongin always loved your attention but was a little embarrassed since you were in public.

“While Mr. Mittens is still a baby, I have to take care of him.” You said with a sigh. “He’ll be self sufficient as an adult.”

——— 🦊

A few weeks pass and you’re still giving all the attention to the cat. Jeongin was getting to a breaking point.

Why aren’t you taking care of him?

Why aren’t you waiting for him after work?

You’re not even that sexually active anymore!

It was all too much for him and he started getting desperate for your attention.

One night, while in bed, Jeongin started kissing your cheek then to your lips. You were glad to kiss back and he soon moved on top of you.

As jeongin made out with you, lightly grinding against you, making you whimper a bit into the kiss.

Before he could do anything else, you hear a sudden crash in the kitchen then a small meow.

“Oh! What happened?!” You said, trying to sit up.

“He probably just knocked something over.” Jeongin said and he tried kissing you again.

“I hope he’s not hurt.” You said while getting up.

Jeongin sighed as you left the room and came back with the small cat.

“He’s okay.” You said happily while putting him on the bed. You got back under the sheets and the cat cuddled up next to you.

This pissed off Jeongin. He went to the restroom to calm down. He sighed while looking in the mirror.

Does noona not love me?? He thought to himself. It tore him up. No way he’s going to be replaced by a cat!

By the time he got back, you had fallen asleep. He moved the cat to the foot of the bed and snuggled up close, hugging you from behind.

~~~~

The next day you had plans for a girls night. It’s been awhile since you and your friends have gotten together.

Jeongin didn’t want you to go but he knew you planned this a while back and it wouldn’t be fair.

You left after telling your boyfriend to watch Mr.Mittens, but of course he wasn’t going to do that.

Jeongin thought you didn’t want to take care of him anymore. Maybe you don’t love him! He doesn’t want to obsess over these thoughts but he can’t help it.

He wants to know exactly what you were up to. No way you’d cheat on him but he just wanted to be sure.

While at the bar and grill restaurant he spied on you, acting as a customer in a table not too far from yours.

He watched as you took a round of shots and giggled with your friends. No boys, that’s good.

After eating, your little friend group moved inside to play some games. There was pool, darts, and karaoke. Your friends picked pool for now.

You weren’t into that game so you just watched.

Jeongin followed you inside, sitting at the bar, trying not to look suspicious.

“You know… something don’t feel right…” you said to you friend as you looked around the area.

“What do you mean?”

“Not sure… but it feels like someone’s watching me.”

“Really?” She teased.

“No I’m serious Karina!” You frowned. “All day.”

“You’re telling me that someone has been watching you from when we had dinner to now?” She laughed. “That’s bold.”

“Probably some guy.” Your other friend said, budding into the conversation while taking a drink. “Some desperate loner.”

“Hm. You’re probably right.” You said as you continued looking around, seeing if any man is acting shy or awkward.

“By the way, how’s it going with your boyfriend?” Karina asked curiously.

“It’s going fine.”

Jeongin could just barely hear the conversation but had a feeling it was about him.

“Do you ever think you do too much for him?”

“What do you mean?” You asked while drinking some water.

“I mean, you practically take care of him.” Karina shrugged. “He seems dependent on you.”

“Oh he’s not dependent on me.” You laugh. “I just like taking care of things. But he can do fine on his own.”

“Really?”

“Well yeah. That’s how I show love I guess.” You said while thinking about it. “And I love him a lot.”

Jeongin couldn’t hear but it seemed like they weren’t saying anything negative.

After some more drinking, your friends dropped you off at your place and luckily Jeongin was able to beat you there.

You were tipsy, not drunk but close to it. Jeongin let you in and you went straight to looking for the cat.

“Where’s my kitty cat?” You pouted while looking around. “I miss him.”

Jeongin frowned and led you to the bathroom.

“Jeongin? Where’s Mr. Mittens?” You said with a giggle as he cleaned off your make up with a wipe. “I miss himmmm.”

“He’s in the bedroom.” Your boyfriend replied impatiently as he led you out.

You instantly laid on the bed. Your legs dangling off the side as your head wasn’t even on the pillow yet. You were exhausted and was already drifting off to sleep.

“Noona.” Jeongin nudged you. “Noona! I want to cuddle! You promised!”

“Not now baby..,” you mumbled with your eyes still closed.

“Noona!” He was annoyed now. You go out and the first thing you ask about is the cat? What about him?? And you said you’d love him tonight! You’d cuddle and more. He’s needy and wants you now!

Jeongin moved the cat from the bed to the living room, then closing the door so he wouldn’t came back in.

Your boyfriend moved you up so that your head was on the pillows. He took off your necklace and unzipped your pants. He put on your pajama pants but now he had an idea.

He lifted your shirt. You weren’t wearing a bra but actually one of those strapless sticky things to cover your nipples.

Jeongin gently took them off before putting another shirt on.

He had an idea. He was needy so…

His desperation was getting the better of him but it was justified right?

A few weeks ago there was a conversation the two of you had where he mentioned somnophilia and you didn’t seem completely against it. So what’s the harm?

Jeongin lowered his pants but paused.

He can’t do this.

Sure he’s needy but this wasn’t right.

It was difficult to control himself but he only laid next to you.

“J-Jeongin…?” You mumbled.

“Shhh… go back to sleep noona…” he responded while putting his hand over your eyes as if to cover and close them. “Shhh…”

“Jeon—…” your voice trailed off as you fell asleep again.

He leaned over to give you a kiss before you actually turned over and cuddled into him. You were deep in sleep and held onto him.

Jeongin heard a small meow at the door and smiled to himself.

“I won.”

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #fanfic #kpop smut #skz x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x poc reader #stray kids #skz #skz scenarios #skz imagines #jeongin x reader #stray kids jeongin #stray kids yang jeongin #Jeongin x poc reader #jeongin fluff #skz jeongin #yang jeongin

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angelatmidnight1 · 6 months

Note

I just started Baldur's Gate 3 and would love some ler! tword hesdcanons for Astarion if you're feeling inspired? I saw some of his lines on YouTube Shorts and he's literally the reason I'm now playing, Lord help me. 😭🤣 I'm super early game(like, just met him, Shadowheart and Gale) but I do know what species he is, and know a certain something he tries at camp at some point- 👀

I will definitely write a tword fic for him at some point because the need for him to wreck me is strong, but some headcanons to encourage me to keep going to see the story, as I adjust to the gameplay and how it works would be so appreciated! ❤️ Again, only if you feel inspired for it though, no pressure and I hope you're staying hydrated lovely! 😊

A/N: Sure! Astarion's the reason I bought the game too. I saw a few clips of him on TikTok and added the game to cart 😅 I have a reader/Astarion fic somewhere in my drafts, but please tag me whenever you create yours. I'd love to see :D

Anyways, here's ler!Astarion. I hope I captured his personality okay. I'll add a tiny warning that this may come off a tad spicy, cause it's Astarion haha, but it isn't NSFW.

Ler!Astarion Tickle Headcanons

“Darling, you’re ticklish? Aha, how adorable.”

Astarion’s had a couple centuries to practice the art of gentle, and sometimes ticklish, touches. Of course he takes up the opportunity to work his craft.

He’ll say the sweetest things to beckon his lee closer, with fleeting touches along sides and hips. “Come here, my dear. I promise I’ll be as gentle as a babe. Just a bit closer, hm?”

More words, sweet as honey, until he has his lee pinned under him. No matter the position, he wants physical contact the whole time. “Mm, I always did enjoy how you looked beneath me.”

He loves it when his lees become shy and flustered. It encourages his flirtatious antics even more. But, if they don’t? That’s okay. He loves a good challenge.

Astarion’s touch is deliberate, but light and teasy. He takes his time to find the spots that make his lee squeal, and claws over it with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “My, you are a sensitive little thing, aren’t you?”

Eye contact is huge with Astarion; he drinks in his lees’ every reaction to his tickles. Every little giggle, gasp, squeak. His lee has never looked more beautiful, and he’s sure to tell them just that.

Speaking of drinking, it’s too tempting not to think about all of the blood pumping through his lee’s veins while he tickles them. He won’t drink without permission, but that doesn’t mean he can’t indulge in other ways.

“I could eat you right up, darling. And you know what? I think I will..”

Astarion knows how to use his fangs with just enough pressure to tickle, and if he’s especially close with his lee, nowhere is safe from his nibbles.

His favorite place to nibble are necks, but he’s also fond of ribs, hips, and thighs. He’ll love if his lee is especially sensitive to his light biting. “Gods, you are delectable. And those precious little giggles of yours just make you all the more sweeter.~”

He could tease and tickle his lee all night, but if they truly need a break, he’ll ease off…just expect him to be a lil’ pouty.

“Stop? Already? But, I was having so much fun. And I can tell that you were, too. Must we end our playtime so soon? …Oh, fine. Just promise I won’t have to wait too long before I can have you again.”

Of course, Astarion doesn’t always have to have an easy time with his lees. He loves it when they’re stern or, if anything, when they don’t want to admit how ticklish they are.

“Pft, if you’re not ticklish, then I’m not a vampire. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find it rather cute. You can look a beast dead in its eye, so long as it doesn’t wiggle its claws at you, hah.”

He, like most, if not all vampires, loves a good hunt. He can and will pursue obstinate lees for fun. Having stealth on his side is a huge advantage.

His fancy, airier voice turns growly when he’s on the hunt. And, those honeyed words become devilish taunts.

“You might want to run faster, darling. I’m right behind you.~ Perhaps if you surrender, I’ll be merciful.”

Astarion gets a huge ego boost if he manages to get a stubborn lee laughing. "My name sounds wonderful on your lips. But, I would love to hear a 'please'."

If he has to hunt his lee down, it'll be awhile before he lets them go. "You're all mine, tav. Laugh for me~."

#astarion acunin #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 tickle #bg3 tickle #ler!astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion

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granolawriting · 6 months

Text

"Do you have a boyfriend?" •°. *࿐

pairing: no breakout! Cowboy costume!Joel x fem reader

Summary: Your best friend holds a halloween party at her house, where the often brooding Joel you often disregard adorns a new attire that sparks something in you. And he makes it clear he feels the same.

Content warning: 18+ NSFW, age gap (college senior and 50 year old), grey hairs so hes about that old, picture part 2 joel cause he’s the sexiest, porn with lots of plot, p in v, creampie, HEAVY praise, you guys are wearing matching costumes on accident, he fucks you IN costume if you're wondering, nice aftercare, pet names (darling, sweetheart, doll), southern hospitality misconstrued for shyness, sarah is your best friend

word count: 7.4k (holy shit)

masterlist

A/N: christ almighty. This took me all day. it has clouded my mind, overtaken my senses. finishing the final lines of this fic made me feel raw, completly finished. I have never written a fic this long in my entire life I'll be so honest. Anyways, I've been delving so deep into pedro stuff recently that reignighting the Joel adgenda made me quiver at night thinking about it. ANYWAYS. THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS!!!! confetti thrown everywehere.

and in other news, I hope u enjoy the 4th installment of my kinktober list, I'll see you all again on the 20th with some bondage!Joel.... Make sure if you like my work to check out my requests/comissions or my ko-fi!!!

P.S. The title was made with scream in mind but since I changed up him from wearing a mask to a cowboy because christ how could I not I decided to just keep it as is.

Monotonous noise of worn out wheels against tired linoleum floors squeak softly at the turns of your cart against the rows of aisles that comprised the small store. Dimly lit bulbs illuminated the rows of supplies— plates upon masks upon streamers of different colors and themes overtake your senses as the whole display seems ostentatious and unflattering to you.

“How's this for a Halloween costume?”

A wolf mask hides the face of an otherwise non-furry Sarah Miller. Who seemed to not share the same sentiment as you regarding distaste for the design.

“I don't know, how are you going to drink if you have a mask on your face?”

“Straws exist.”

“I'm not convinced”

She takes it off with melodrama, sullen disdain for your lack of halloween spirit as you push the cart further down the aisle.

A soft squeak of tires indicates a stop in your steps as you stand before a wall of costumes— what you needed more than anything to hold an answer for you.

Eyes tracing up and down the rows floor to ceiling coated with cheaply made, scantily clad costumes makes your vision blur. Until it lands on a single item; one that stood out to you above all else.

“A cowgirl?”

Sarah sounds unimpressed. Eyeing the plastic wrapped costume labeled “ride my rodeo” with a model on the front wearing small red and white plaid tied to her front, small jean shorts cut at most with an inch’s inseam, and a cowboy hat— sold separately.

“It's the best I've got. It's either this, or I repeat last year’s costume.”

“You are not dressing up as Adam Sandler to my party.”

You put the bag in the cart.

Ever since moving to college, your career as a party-goer has been less than prolific, as a freshman assuming that time away from home was means to let yourself go, slowly turned into a reluctant senior year where parties were oftentimes the last thing you wanted to do on a given day. However, as Sarah lived in the area, she at the very least dragged you to her neighborhood functions. Which, was marginally better than what any Greek life could pull together. And as your car pulls into the empty spot within the miller’s lot, you become privy as to why; because you always had to help put it together.

As smooth concrete lays beneath your car while you park, the truck parked beside you was none other than Joel Millers— Sarah's bachelor dad.

Bachelor was an overstatement, a compliment that wasn't quite applicable to him. He wasn't looking for love, a bachelor without a cause, he was purposefully distant. A brood coated his face from eyes to lips that only ever contorted to something positive in the sight of his daughter. A contractor seemingly married to his work he had no means to find love. A part of you wonders when the last time he even had anyone was, romantically or sexually. Or even how he got ahold of one to make Sarah happen in the first place. You could never picture Joel as someone sexually active, if Sarah told you she was immaculately conceived you would have believed her.

The click of boots against concrete greets the Millers doorstep as your cowgirl boots are adorned, the rest of your uncomfortable costume shoved in a bag across your shoulder as means to at least dress the house in comfort before having to walk around in costume for hours on end.

Walking directly in you’re faced with a Mr. Miller, with a similar idea. He wore nothing at all, costume-wise. Something that you wish you could have done, as every year he seems to escape the wrath of Sarah’s demands regarding spirit, to be met with the regular weathered jeans and loose long sleeves. Standing tall upon a stepladder was he already being put to work however, thick fingers pushing small thumbtacks into the open space of his home, orange and black streamers littering the front room as he works.

His head turns to you at the sound of his door being opened and shut,

“Well, what’re you supposed ta’ be?”

His eyes size you up and down, southern drawl brings sound to the quiet of the room, only otherwise broken by soft halloween music traveling its way downstairs from Sarah’s bedroom. If there was one attractive thing about him, it was his accent. The way he would slur his words together, the charming yet teasing air to everything he says. Having moved to Austin 4 years ago you would’ve thought you’d have grown used to it by now, and you have, besides Joel. The age that honeyed his voice like old whisky was unprecedented, and never paralleled by any other man you’d yet to mean in your time there.

“Haven’t put it on yet Mr. Miller. But I can see that your costume is quite the classic.”

“Oh quit it. Now, Sarah asks that you go upstairs when ya’ came in. Bosses orders.”

You give a stern look to him and nod as though you were to be sent on the front lines, and he only gives a small chuckle before returning to his work.

“Oh my god you’re finally here. Look—”

She opens the door in hurried fashion, and quickly centers herself in the middle of the room to do a spin for you. A small gust of wind as she twirled letting her skirt float as she moved to reveal her outfit. Bells and jingles fill the room at the movement of her body.

“Does it look too corny? Can you tell who I am?”

Looking her up and down, large bundles of curly hair hiding a stuffed serpent around her neck as a green top wraps around the back of it, paired with loose bells and metal pieces adorning a small blue skirt with layers of tulle, it was quite obvious who she was meant to be if you were born prior to 2006.

“Britney spears. And you look perfect, but don't you think it’s a little early to try on your costume?”

Her eyes pierce you with only the gaze of a woman who thought you clearly misunderstood what was going on.

“The party is in 2 hours. I've yet to even do my makeup, or take photos before I get wasted. Time is of the essence. Here, put your costume on and help get ready with me.”

Sarah, despite being in the same grade as you, was marginally less mature. Mostly driven by her intelligence boosting her into higher grades when she was younger, she was around 2 years younger than you despite graduating the same year as you. And despite her efforts sometimes her stress levels were purely driven by the fact she was barely 21. Still obsessed and enamored with arguably, menial things. Though through her age, you always attempted to discern her fathers. With grey growing into the roots of his head, speckling his beard as it traced the lines of his jaw, you had ventured to guess he was around 50.

…

Ding Dong

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh—”

“It's okay Sarah, I'll get it.”

Feet scrambling up and out of her bedroom, you quickly find your way to the front door as the clock shone at 7:30, cursing the people who find joy in showing up so early to what is not a dinner party. Dressed in your cowgirl costume do you answer the door, expecting either trick or treaters or an older neighbor, does someone entirely different greet you as it opens.

Joel towers before you within the doorway. He no longer wore the loose fitting shirts and jeans omnipresent on his person, moreover it was swapped for a much more form fitting attire. A cowboy hat for starters, sat upon his head of hair, usually messy and combed back did it now fall in front of his face, sculpting his jaw as it fell to the sides of chocolate eyes. Strands peppered his face as you took him in, a worn cowboy hat that complimented the tan of his skin, equally as sun bleached did it seem almost natural for him to adorn it. Followed by a small toothpick sticking from his lips, did it draw focus to the pink of them, shaped and contrasted by the peppered beard freshly trimmed, longer pieces of hair falling over his top lip to establish a thicker mustache that became the centerpiece of his look. As your eyes trailed down the rest of his body, you’re met with a form fitting tan tuscan button up as his underlayer, slightly unbuttoned at the top to reveal his chest lines do you notice fabric rolled to his elbows to reveal thick hairy forearms that held muscle visible unflexed. Trailing up to see the definition of bicep within the confines of cotton fabric almost bursting at the muscle he carried, only to be met with an overlayer of a dark brown vest seemingly made of corduroy or something similar, tightly buttoned around his waist to accentuate it's contrast to the broadness of his shoulders. The pants worn in tandem with the outfit were a chocolate brown, thick leather-like material clung to his quads as they tapered at the ends of his calves, square toed cowboy boots finding home beneath the heavy fabric of his pants. Around his waist was there a detailed belt, a worn leather belt held up the tie of his pants, and to his hip was a holster, housing a small toy gun that fell to his side as his hip stayed slightly cocked at the entrance. His thumb looped in the side of his pocket as he stood waiting at the front door. The scent of cologne fills your senses as it breeds with his natural scent to produce what was to you somewhat of an aphrodisiac. This was no longer the grumpy old man that wore clothes a size too large because he was too lazy to check the charts, no longer the father of your best friend— in this moment he was nothing but insatiably attractive.

“Oh, Mr. Miller I— don't you have a key?”

Only now do you notice the look he gave you. The equal look of awe as his eyes unabashedly trailed your body and it's curved. Much more revealing than him though equally as hidden from what he wanted. You watched as lips became slightly pursed, taking in the fit of your jeans and the curve of your hips, eyes falling for far too long upon your top and how it complimented you.

He skips a beat.

“Oh— uh, sorry kid. Though Sarah’d be comin’ down. Wanted to show her my outfit. S’ the last halloween we’re gonna have fer a while.”

You feel yourself heat up, his eyes connecting with yours have a whole new meaning to it now. He seemed embarrassed, even, as his eyes darted from side to side, unable to connect with yours for more than a few seconds as he asked for his daughter.

“She's still upstairs getting ready. Do you, do you want me to call her down?”

“No, no that won’t be necessary. ‘Supose I’ll wait fer her inside.”

It takes you a moment to register that as means for entry into his own house as you stood there agape in the center of the doorframe. Though quickly do you move your body to make room for him, as he dips his head to you in thanks before heavy boots hit the wooden floors of the downstairs in his entry.

The tension that builds within the room is deafening as you both stand there in silence. Unable to remove yourself from his proximity does the air fill with feelings foreign and impure.

“That’s a um, nice costume ya’ got there.”

Joel breaks the silence with soft spoken words as he begins to pour a drink in the kitchen. Though not looking at you, the image of you within his mind pierced the darkest parts of his consciousness with glaring extremity as he felt himself grow hot in so many layers.

“This? Oh, Sarah, she made me do it. But uh, I really like yours as well. It, it suits you well. And we’re matching, that's funny.”

This was your poor attempt at flirting with a mind so foggy with memories completely turned on their head as your perception of Joel did that same.

“WHO IS ITTTT!!!!!!!!!”

Sarah screams from the closed door of her upstairs bedroom. Clearly your time downstairs was limited before she began even more antics from the confines of her unkempt bedroom.

He hands you a glass, amber liquid sloshes upon crackling ice fills up a quarter of the cylindrical glass.

“Hope ya’ have fun t’night sweetheart. Make sure Sarah’s doin’ alright.”

You flash him a shy smile as you take your drink to go, climbing the hardwood stairs leading to her bedroom as quickly as you can without spilling it.

“Who was it? What took you so long! Is that whisky?”

“Can you ask one question at a time?”

“Well I already asked all of em so what's the point?”

“Just for future reference.”

“Maybe. Well?”

“your dad forgot his key, I helped him inside, he gave me a drink. Tis the story.”

She looks you up and down as the recollection of her father instills newfound meekness at the mention of him.

“Ok weirdo. Here, take candids.”

…

Halloween music blares from speakers as the party comes to a head, the myriad of costumes all still holding creases from the cheap packaging they were purchased in become clustered together as the drinks you have begin to get to you. The smell of alcohol and pumpkin fill the room as a cacophony of laughter takes you out of a spell of staring thankfully focused on the floor and not upon unsuspecting persons.

The only person who seemed to stand out amongst the crowds of duplicate costume and cheesy innuendos was a certain Mr. Miller— a prolific wallflower that only hosted these things as a means to keep Sarah close in situations like this. For if not here, she’d be somewhere else doing the same thing.

Eyes scoured the home every few minutes, looking to catch a glimpse of Joel within his costume, politely smiling at guests through small talk or taking slow drinks of his flask.

“Hey you!!!”

You’re startled by the sound of Sarah's boom from across the room as she calls for you, a caramel hand stuck high in the air to signal you to her, drawing you out of the trance of Joel’s small movements.

You walk to her with careful steps, trying not to step on capes or trailing costumes in the process.

“What’s up with you! I’ve barely seen you at all tonight! I know you’re not a party girl anymore but please, try and live it up for me!”

Something catches her eye as she speaks to you, her smiling face turning into an O with excitement;

“And—”

She points behind you.

“I think that guy over there is checking you out. Go have fun! Let me hear all about it later!”

Later. You forgot you’d promised to sleep over at her place too, rehashing the night's events as soon as they came to a close as you always did over the years. Though the first thing that comes to your mind is not the man behind you eyeing you, tacky tie-dye making up for a lackluster hippie costume, but Joel. the man who in fact owned the home you would be sleeping in, the man who kept eyeing you from the side of the room with a gaze you accepted much greater than the mans behind you, and above all, the man that had caught your heart in a way that led to it's seeping out between your thighs.

God, what the fuck is wrong with me? This isn't right it's, it’s Sarah's dad. She’d be heartbroken to even know I think like this.

You decide to throw away all the Clint Eastwood movies you stole from your dad and uninstall red dead redemption 2 when you got home, and blame your attraction solely on your overconsumption of cowboy media. You need a breather.

There's a balcony, facing the back of the property that was off limits to the party guests. Entered only through Joel’s bedroom, anyone would be stupid to test their luck if getting caught within his personal dwellings. However, you were Sarah’s best friend. And was even shown this entryway by Sarah herself— of course when her father was not home. And so you decide with cautious steps to ascend the stairs of his home, the liquor giving way to uncertainty in every step as your eyes are glued to the placement of each foot upon the step one by one. Though as you reach the top with great pride, you venture into Joel’s room, to the left of the stairs as Sarah’s is farther to the right.

You had never been in his room by yourself before, only for a brief moment with Sarah as she showed you one of her favorite spots in the house. It was secluded, of course looking over the backyard she lamented years past as a girl playing within the pool below. She was at the age where she wanted to be independent, but in no way could be yet; and for her that was about 10. And as means to give her her freedom but keep her close, he would watch from the confines of a balcony she paid no note to as the splashing of waves kept her occupied. And he doted on her from a distance.

As you walk through his bedroom, walls covered in guitars and desk littered with wooden sculptures while a record shows to be finished upon his player. Sheets properly made upon his bed, and a sense of intimacy looking around at the things littered upon his shelves and tables. The framed photo of him and his daughter, his old watch he took off specifically for the occasion of dress. The distinct smell of him that enveloped your senses.

Opening the door to the balcony does the feeling of cool air hitting a flustered face sober you everso slightly. Bracing yourself on the edges of the platform, you drift into a calm. The first time you’d felt that since the moment you opened the door for a cowboy Mr. Miller— as you force yourself to call him in your mind.

“Now what do you suppose yer doin’ in my room?”

Your heart sinks. You knew you’d be fine, if caught, but the thing that sinks your heart is the uptick of your heartbeat and the twist in your stomach at the sight of familiar drawl sounding behind you.

You hear heavy boots break the threshold of the doorway into where you stood as the sound of wood upon his feet changed to a scratch of concrete.

He stands next to you, forearms pressed against the railing as his back curves along casual footing aside of you. The moonlight illuminates his face, the curve of his nose complimenting the side profile that gifted you sight at the tufts of hair poking out from the ends of his hat, and the proximity to him gave you the insight to the smell of whisky on his breath as he spoke.

“Needed ta’ take a breather' myself. ‘Spose we had the same idea.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Ya’ having a good time t’night kid?”

“Oh yeah, I haven't seen all that much of Sarah though did you—”

You stop as he shifts his body to turn to you.

“Now, can I be honest with ya’?”

As you turn to look at him, mirroring his stance he dwarfs you in the process, standing at around 6ft the broad of his shoulders shadowing your whole figure.

You nod your head meekly.

“I just— now, I don't know how ta’ say all this quite right. But, don't get me wrong darlin’, I’ve seen the way you’ve been lookin’ fer me all night. I don't know if ya’ think i'm blind or somethin, but i’ve seen ya’ all night, watchin me.”

He pauses for a moment and within that silence does your heart shatter. The whole time you thought that he was eyeing you, looking you up and down, it was just a one sided coincidence that led you to this awkward conversation with a man twice your age. You start;

“Oh listen I'm, I'm so sorry Mr. Miller I must have given the wrong impression or something I don't know i'm just so—”

“Please, call me Joel. And don't hafta’ be so sorry sweetheart. Just callin’ it how I see it.”

He pauses once more as he considers what he’s going to say next, a tinge of uncertainty covering his face as he decides how to follow up.

“And I don't quite mind it, if that's what you’re worried ‘bout.”

The tense of your muscles releases as he continues.

“Just, wanted ta’ tell you you looked quite well yourself that’s all.”

He’s holding back, you can tell by the sway of his legs as he goes on and the grip of his fingers upon the pocket of his pants. The way his gaze averted yours and his glancing upon the floor; for any look at you from your eyes to your body seemed to be hard for him to swallow with proper manners.

Your eyes lock in silence, the pale moonlight illuminating you two as the distance from Joel grows unconsciously closer as you take in his face, his body looming over yours and the prospect of their being more within his mind that he’s willing to give you. The southern hospitality still overshadows his true means.

Rough fingers graze your face, tucking hair behind your ear as it falls in front of your face. And as he leans forward to do so, you lean in as well. Blinded by desire and complicated by liquor and closing the gap between the two of you. Tasting his lips reminiscent of whisky and the frosting of halloween cupcakes you feel him kiss you back for only a moment before shooting himself backwards.

He almost trips over his own feet in adverse reaction, stumbling to the other side of the balcony as you watch him.

“I'm—”

“No darlin’ ya’ don't have to say anything. But I've probably got to get back down to company. Feel free to stay up here ‘s long as you want.”

You watch as he rushes out of the room and the urge to chase after him grows weak as the taste lingers on your lips. The sense of defeat wells in your chest but not entirely, because for a moment he kissed back. A moment you felt him push forward on your lips and savor the flavor of them as you did for him.

Later.

Now, a sleepover with Sarah is what you needed most. A sleepover with her, is a sleepover with Joel right across the way. And the mere feeling of that made your knees weaken with rushing dreams of him.

The party seemed to drag on after that, only satiated by more drinks were you able to bear a night where you could feel him from across the room, sense his body and the heat that came with it. You felt naked for him, utterly exposed at the sight of his eyes trailing you— ones you could only hope followed you the way yours did for him whenever you noticed him with back turned. Drinking in every part of his body as he was none the wiser, finding joy and security within the turn from you as means to make him in for as long as you pleased.

…

“Alright ma’am, seems ya’ need to be goin’ home, me ‘n Sarah got a lot of cleanin to do in the morning.”

An outstretched arm grabs the bicep of a polite Joel, ushering out the final guest that had an affinity for his touch so it seemed.

“Ohhh but darlin when will I see you in such a getup again? Oh i'd never want to leave.”

“‘S a shame I’m about to take it off though ma’am. Now go walk home alright?”

Her eyes hooded everstill she demands even more of him;

“Oh but will you take me? Don't think I trust myself in these conditions.”

He closes his eyes and a heavy sigh leaves his nose.

“‘Spose so ma’am— Sarah, I’ll be right back.”

Her arm loops around his bicep as he leads her out of the house, jealousy overtaking you purely at the close proximity she had to him, for much longer than he ever had with you.

Sarah turns to look at you as you stand a few feet back from the scene, a bemused look painted on your face unconsciously demanding explanation.

“Oh- that was miss carey she uh, she’s had a thing for my dad for years now. It’s kind of funny if I'm being honest, given I didn't see her drink all night.”

You let out a halfhearted laugh for a response, trying to deny the yearning within your stomach to feel Joel’s arm as she did, to touch him, fall over him. Just be close enough to smell him again, feel his warmth. It had felt like decades since the last feeling of him close to you. your body remembering calloused fingers grazing your heated cheek; contrasting with the cold tips that crept upon his hands as the air finally showed hints of the coming winter season.

“Sorry to be a bother, but doya think you could start cleaning up? I’ve gotta get this costume off and shower before I vomit. Thanks!”

As Sarah zips up the stairs all that’s left is you alone, standing within the living room of Joel Miller’s home. One where he could return any second.

You decide to busy yourself with chores, cleaning up stray glasses and bottles littered across the house, fallen decorations and dessert trays now only holding wrappers and trash. It’s a hefty job, one that helps for a short while as the weight of hours prior looms over you with darring intent to seep deep within your mind, allowing visions of the taste of his tongue, the feel of his body pressed against you to consume you. What you would give to feel his nose clash against yours through sloppy kisses, lips puffy with desire as small nips and clashing of teeth is all that can fester in your mind as candy wrappers stuck to the floor fail to give enough distraction anymore to keep Joel off your mind.

“Fuckin’ christ man I— oh.”

You didn't even hear the door open, or the creak of boots as they settled into their first steps within the home. Only the sound of his voice did you perk up with your mind unable to shake your thoughts as you stand before him. Feet away with a small trash bag in your hand.

He continues.

“Didn't know you’d still be here, my apologies.”

“Oh yeah uh, Sarah didn't tell you I was spending the night?”

“Spendin’ the night?”

He repeats you, barely able to hide his shock. Clearly, she hadn't. And as you stand there, beginning to hear the water running for a shower she’s yet to even get into, the tension of the two of you grows immanent as he realizes just how alone he currently is with you.

He didn't know what to do, feeling palms grow sweaty as his desire clashed with his sense of respect and responsibility as a father and his yearning grew too prominent to hide behind the unforgiving stretch of tightly fitted pants he busied himself once more.

“Oh, right then. Well I ‘spose i’ll be in the kitchen if ya’ need me.”

Walking past you with a heavy stride does the scent of him once more draw you to him— something primal, wanton is elicited from him when in close proximity. One that with a room now void of people to maneuver through, you refused to ignore any longer. You followed his quick steps into the kitchen, separating yourself even further from Sarah as the stairs fell into your purview as you ventured deeper into the home.

You greet Joel at the counter of the kitchen where he stood, pouring another drink for himself does the hand gripping his drink suspend mid air at the sight of your trail behind him.

“Ya’ need somethin’?”

You don't know if it’s the liquor talking, or the suspense and tease of a night full of dreaming for a moment like this to arise but you don't allow yourself to beat around the bush anymore. If this old man failed to make a move, you would.

“I do Joel, really— I think we both do.”

He sets the glass down on the counter with a light chink filling the air. His demeanor changes; you watch as both hands lean forward on the counter to inch closer to you, arms outstretched flex his forearms to reveal muscles only garnered by heavy and hard working. His hip cocked to his left as he made unwavering eye contact with you, a smile forming slightly upon his face.

“And what would that be darlin’?”

He made you nervous. This was a first. The mild mannered gentleman that often stood before you, speaking only when necessary and smiling only when compelled to. You always shook him off, an old man not worth anything but a gracious thank you as he catered to you and his daughter when times came. But as you looked upon that man now, face shadowed by a cowboy hat perfectly curved at its edges lining his head, hairs falling in just the right places over the sides of his face, and the hooded eyes coated with lust you found yourself hard to speak. Hard to even think.

“Well? Cmon’ now I ain't got all day.”

He's taunting you. Watching you grow nervous under his gaze as you become the one that can't hold it anymore.

“You, and me I mean. The way you look at me— I want you Joel. And so do you, right?”

Without skipping a beat, Joel retorts

“So come closer then sweetheart. Can't do anything with ya’ so far away.”

your heartbeat picks up again. Shaking steps inch around the bend of the countertop, until you’re no more than an inch away from him. Watching, as he looks down upon you.

“Good girl— now, what’s this about wanting me hm?”

“What?”

“Oh don't play coy darlin’, I love hearin’ you tell me all about how much you need me. The look in those pretty little eyes.”

A coarse finger falls upon your cheek once more, this time lingering there before toying with stray hairs. His fingers trail to your chin and jaw, gripping onto your face to lift it higher to lock dark eyes with his.

“Such a doll. I wanna hear ya’ beg for it.”

You feel a pool of slick well between your thighs, heating and dampening already ruined underwear at the sight of him as the night went on. Though as you listened to the sink in his voice, demanding you to beg for him. You don't even know what you were so needy for, his kiss? That was too little. You wanted all of him, and as knees felt weak at the thought of it— him, and you completely at his disposal. He dwarfed you from this closeness, you realized this as you approached him. He overpowered you in every way, and that made it even harder to say what you wanted. Every semblance of confidence leaves your body as all you want to do now is whatever he demands, whatever he says.

“Please Joel I— I need you. Every part of you. I can't take my eyes off of you. Every part of you looks so perfect no matter the angle or the lighting. Id, i’d never noticed it before but now I…”

The gust of articulation you had quickly dwindled as his face lit up from such compliment, such desperation. You were desperate, needy for him. That much was true. And he knew that.

“Mmm that's all ya’ had to say sweetheart.”

Now he is the one that closes the gap between you, the yearning for his taste finally satiated as your lips collided once more, the fantasies of clashing of teeth against one another with impassioned touch as his hand falls from your face to trail bare stomach. Feeling the large of his hands take in every inch of you with precision, like he had memorized exactly where he wished to be. Feeling as his hands trace down to your hips, and slowly maneuvering up to the wire of your bra.

“Take it off. Please.”

You beg through breathy moans as you stay inside his mouth, taking into him as you refuse to open any gap of distance between the two of you.

“Since ya’ asked so nicely.”

His fingers trace the center of your chest where a simple tie kept together thin fabric that complimented your chest. Unraveling it's knot does he guide it off your arms and onto the floor, a free hand snaking to your back to unhook your bra, leaving you with nothing but the shorts you wore and the hat upon your head to constitute a costume.

His mouth lets up from you to look down on your chest, his palms engulfing them as he kneeds them within his hands, letting the weight of them move with his fingers as he massages them. Fingers slowly trailed down to the mountain of your nipple, toying with them with two fingers as his eye flitted back up to you to watch your reaction. Sighing in relief, your eyes fluttering at the feeling of his cool touch against a body so overwhelmed with heat for him.

He leans in to you, his lips pressing softly against your ear his voice no matter a whisper is still laced with lust creating deep tones otherwise foreign to you to emit from him as he speaks to you;

“God you don't know what you do to me darlin’.”

“Then show me.”

His hands make quick way to the back of your thighs, lifting you up to his hips where you can feel his bulge pressing into you, the thin material of your shorts leaving little room for imagination.

Walking to the dining room adjacent to the kitchen, he sets you on a table that meets him at about hip level, lowering your back onto the wooden finish that often held dinners with the three of you now making way for just the two of you as you watch the buckle of his pants become the main spot of his attention.

“Bet ya’ could feel what you’re doin’ to me sweetheart, you like that hm? Feelin’ my cock against you even for a fuckin second?”

He talks down to you as he undresses his lower half, relieving himself to only his boxers as he now knelt down to face your heat, legs dangling off the edge of the table to uses that as means to slide your shorts off with ease, revealing the soaked underwear that gave you constant reminder of the eyes you held the whole night.

“All this for me hm? Ain’t I lucky.”

He lifts a finger to massage the outside of your heat, slowly pressing on the wet spots as he toys with you, making your breath hitch at the feeling of his touch, the sensitivity only growing overtime as you were denied for so long.

Slowly he peels off your underwear, allowing your slick to trail down the side of your thigh as it leaves a trace when it hits the floor. The cool air hitting your clit makes you jolt, but Joel wasting no time allows himself to dig straight into you. Feeling his tongue explore every crevice of you, every place where you have leaked for him he wants to take in every drop of it. Tasting you was like heaven to him. As his lips were pressed against your heat as his tongue began to make a repeated circular motion along your clit.

your fingers beg for his hair, grasping it in desperate fingers do you confine him within the bars of your thighs as they squeeze against his head.

“Mmng— god Joel it feels so nice please I-”

He waited for you to speak before sticking a finger inside of you. Thick callused fingers grabbed at your core and pushed its way into your center, hooking at sponge from inside you right at the spot that felt best. No longer could you ever think he didn't know what he was doing, it’s as if he knew your own body in and out, and with the whines you have to bite back out of fear of it drowning out the shower's thud of water upon a clueless Sarah.

“You like that sweetheart?”

Joel groans into your pussy, he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. Hearing your stifled yelps and desperate moans over his tongue, his finger inside of you.

“Y..yes please Joel I need more.”

He slides in with a second finger, though lets up from your clit. Slick drips to his chin as he rises to face you, leaning over you as fingers still pump inside of you.

“Never fuckin’ satisfied, is that it? Whaddya need darlin’ hm? How about ya’ use those words for me.”

He made it hard for you to speak or even think as the steady grind of his fingers inside of you overtook your senses. But you obliged, trying through breathed heaves to try and relay what you desperately needed from him.

“Fuck me. Please fuckme Joel I cant— ngh I cant fucking take it anymore.”

“Good girl. Guess you’re in luck ‘cause I aint ever wanted to fuck someone this bad in my entire life. And I’m not gonna be gentle on ya’ alright? I know you can take it.”

Slowly removing his fingers from you, he lifts them up to his own mouth to let him taste you one last time, slowly licking clean what was just knuckle deep within you. You watch as he slithers his boxers off, revealing what seemed to be impossible to fit inside of you. His cock was pulsating, almost red as it yearned to be touched, it yearned to be inside of you. You watch as beads of precum already coat its tip, and veins throb against the slight curve of him that twitches at the feeling of release.

Inching towards you you feel his tip graze your core before pushing into your folds, covering himself with your slick does he push himself flush against you as you see how far his cock rides up onto your body. You see him smile at the sight of it lying on your stomach, predicting how deep it’ll push inside of you before he centers it once more at your entrance, slowly spreading you open as you feel a fire burn within your stomach at the initial pain of it. It felt as though he was ripping you apart slowly, legs instinctively closing did his hand grab onto your thighs to push them open.

His body flushes against yours with a deep groan, letting your walls warm his cock for a moment as he looks down on you.

“You’ve got a pretty fuckin’ body ya’ know that? All done up fer me, feel so lucky finally gettin’ to do this.”

He begins inching in and out of you with slow pace, your body moving with every stroke of his cock around you as you fell hopelessly obsessed with the feeling of him inside of you.

“Been wantin’ to do this all night— imagining what ya’ looked like under that pretty little costume of yours. Fuck, woulda fucked you right on that balcony if I could’ve. Nngh—”

His thrusts in you grow faster as he speaks to you, talking you through the whole thing makes you only look at him with wide eyes, desperately needing his cock and drinking in the southern drawl that detailed how he felt the exact same.

“Body’s fuckin’ perfect. Pretty little pussy all fer me, yaknow that? Right now you’re all fuckin’ mine hm? Ain't that right doll?”

“Yes, yes Joel— all for you nngh. My body is all yours please, please don't stop.”

His finger trails down from your thigh to your clit, throbbing with pain at the need to be touched does he satiate it with a thumb beginning to circle where his tongue did moments prior.

“Fuckkk please oh my god”

your breath grows irregular as the fire burning in your stomach grows white hot, unable to utter anything coherent as babbling of desperate please escape your mouth as your body becomes addicted to his every touch. The push of his cock directly against your cervix, the circle of his thumb perfectly against your heat, you felt it bubble inside you. Nearing on toppling over all you can think of, unconsciously chanting as he fucks into you Joel Joel Joel Joel

“Ya’ gonna fuckin’ come for me? Cmon, I wanna feel it darlin’ I want it to swallow me I want you to cum on my fuckin’ cock hm? Can ya’ do that for me?”

He groans over you, thrusts growing irregular at the desperation of his own climax reaching a head at the same time yours does. Only letting a few more thrusts greet you before you feel it toppling over, every inch of your body becoming utterly ruined below him. Feeling his cock inside of you pistoning into you through your orgasm, legs lock around his clothed waist as your hips buck up, shaking as your back arches against the table with legs raised, most of your body not even on the table anymore as he holds your legs stable to fuck through his own orgasm.

“Fuck fuck darlin’ you’re so fuckin’ tight— shit you feel so good.”

“Inside of me”

You manage to breathe through a fogged mind and blurry vision as the sensitivity of your body makes his use of you mind numbing.

“Please. Please Joel please cum inside of me please—”

You feel heavy liquid fill you as he slows his pace, heavy groan being the only thing that fills the room now as he pumps in and out of you, softening inside of you as his seed leaks from you. He slowly removes himself from you, a collection of your own fluid and his trails down the side of your thigh as you both stay there breathless. Watching as he slowly shifts on his boxers, and loosely does pants that are soon to come off later.

Before you’re able to right yourself or even get up, you watch as Joel slides your clothes back on you, latching your bra softly as he raises your back up to do so. Slipping your top on and tying a proper knot is the only thing missing from your wardrobe, the underwear he took off of you, that of which becomes missing as he slips your shorts onto you.

“I think you forgot something.”

“Think I deserve a little trophy don't you darlin’?”

You flush at the implication, Joel keeping them as a sort of token of remembrance of you, of this night.

Straightening yourself up as he finishes clothing you do you stand there, as you watch his back once more fill up glasses of water for you and him. Taking in all he is, form fitting cowboy attire still decorating his body, do you outstretched a hand to feel his bicep, a desire you’d had the moment that woman did. As he turns to face you, feeling your hand brush against his body once more he smiles slightly, teasing;

“Ya’ like what ya see sweetheart?”

“I just wanted to feel you.”

“Already did a lotta that don't ya’ think? But be my guest.”

He hands you a small glass of water as he drinks out of his own, and as silence engulfs the two of you you hear the dreaded creak of a shower turning off sound from the upstairs as reality sets in for the two of you once more.

“Think ya’ best go check on Sarah now.”

“Yeah that’d be smart.”

You avert his eyes as you’d done once prior, engulfed by embarrassment as you remember Sarah after the intimate moment you shared.

“Well, I’ll be down here for a bit longer, then headed ta’ bed. You just uh, let me know if ya need anythin’ right? You know where my room is.”

A small smile across his face implies a very different definition of ‘needing’ something, depending on how you view it. But as you ascend the stairs to help deal with Sarah once more, part of you knows that you’ll be asking him for some more help, cleaning, before night's end.

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