#this was meant to be a little warm up but i got carried away lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scekrex · 1 month

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Just Adam getting worshipped. Body worship? Yes. Cock worship? Absolutely. Anything you can think of, You name it. Making Adam feel like a god in bed, not because the reader cares about his status as “first man,” no, no, no, but because they care about Adam.

Bonus points if Adam is insecure about “letting himself go” since Eden and gaining weight (fuck you Lucifer, he’s still hot >:( (Jk bbg I still love u)

Basically, I want this MF to feel loved for being HIMSELF not because of some superficial bullshit he tells himself to the point he starts crying tears of happiness.

Okay so um I kinda got carried away at some points I think and this is the most gentle blowjob I've probably ever written. Also reader doesn't fucking cum, because 'this is about Adam' and bc I said so lol

I hate everyone, it's so easy, I wouldn't do it if I didn't really care

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, oral sex, praise kink (implied)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

When you gently placed your hand on Adam's chest to push him down against the soft, warm mattress and your touch continued to stay gentle as your hands roamed over his chest it was a little confusing for Adam - that he had to admit. He was used to heated sex, keeping it hot and heavy, rough and hard. Gentle? Well usually the only thing that he considered gentle when it came to having sex with you was the aftercare that always followed.

“Adam?” your voice sounded deeper than it usually did and while the first man was sure he'd find nothing but lust in your eyes, he was surprised to see admiration instead. A soft hum was the only response you got and so you continued, “Did I ever tell you how divine you look?” A smug grin appeared on the first man's face and he cockily replied, “Well, I'm fucking Ada-” you silenced him by kissing his lips, it was just a quick peck and yet it did the job and made him shut up. “No, not the first man type of divine. I'm talking about the Adam type of divine looking.” At that the brunette frowned, he wasn't quite understanding what you meant by that and it was obvious. You chuckled softly at his confused frown and patted his naked chest soothingly, “What I mean,” you hummed as your eyes flickered from his body to his eyes, “Is I'm not saying you're divine looking because you were the first human to be created,” you leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his right peck, “I’m telling ya you're the most holy thing I've ever seen with my own eyes because that's how it is - first man or not.” And that caused a very noticeable shift in the first man's expression.

Adam was quite surprised by the compliment you had just given him - that must have been the first time someone had told him that he meant that much to them, not because of his status, not because he was the first man, but simply because Adam was Adam, simply because someone loved him for himself and not for his rang. The confusion that had lingered in his eyes was replaced by something soft, something close to undying love for you and of course your curious mind noticed that. Your lips tenderly caressed the skin that covered his chest, from his collar bone down to his nipple and from there you left a trail of warm, loving kisses down his stomach until you reached his hip bone. Adam's hand had come up to pet your hair, there was no force, no guidance, he just went along with what you offered him. Because even though he would never admit it out loud, he had let himself go ever since Eden - nothing he could be blamed for, it's been over ten thousand years since his soul had first arrived in heaven. Yet it was something that made him feel uncomfortable if mentioned by others. Lute would joke about his dad-body, and to be completely honest, sometimes her jokes hit something inside of him.

Your lips kissed the skin of his soft belly, oh how you adored his belly, how you adored Adam's form in general. He wasn't ripped, he hasn't been ripped when you met him either. He had what earthlings would consider a small beer belly, you loved the soft meat very dearly. “God created the flesh you're made out of,” you whispered against his warm skin and kissed him right above his belly button, “But you alone make this body so purely celestial.” Adam wasn't sure how he was supposed to react - how would someone react to words as kind as yours even without his ego and insecurities? He didn't know. But he knew that your words made him feel warm, your words caused a smile to appear on his face - not the cocky ones he usually shot you but an honest one instead, a smile caused from pure happiness. “And you’re all mine, mine to love and adore,” you rested your chin on his sternum and looked up at him with the most adoring look Adam had ever seen, “Mine to worship and take care of.”

The brunette shuddered at your words and you noticed how his wings twitched, the light his halo casted over his face flickered for a short moment. The exorcists’ leader knew no one had ever spoken so purely about him, no one had ever appreciated his body the way you did. No one had ever been as honest about loving and adoring him as you were. He was also painfully aware of how all of your words not only went straight to his heart, but also to his dick - his erected dick. Oh to be loved and desired in such honest ways, it surely wasn’t something Adam had ever imagined, it was something the first man had never even dared to dream about. Because how? How should he have been able to dream about love this pure when the women that God had created for him and only him had traded him in for the devil? Yet you worshiped his body like you were the one made for him - and at this point maybe you were, only God knew. Your lips met his skin yet again, kissing town his happy trail until your lips were so, so close to the tip of his dick, Adam was able to feel your hot breath on it, an almost inaudible whine escaped his lips and yet you caught onto it. “I love the way your voice changes whenever you feel aroused, I adore the way you let me know I’m pleasing you well,” you whispered and because the only noise other than your voice was his heavy breathing you knew he had heard every word. “You always brag about being the first man - that all of mankind came from these fucking nuts,” to underline your words properly you ran your tongue over his sensitve testicles, which earned you a loud and strong groan. Your lips brushed against the heated skin of his balls as you continued to speak,”Yet you really have so much more to brag about - starting with your fighting skills, in God’s mighty name Adam, you defeated the radio demon.” Adam wanted to respond to that and if he would have done so, he would have probably said something like ‘His fucking mortal soul was no fucking match to me anyway’. But his response was swallowed by a moan that spilled from his lips as you sucked his testicles into your mouth, wet heat surrounding Adam’s most sensitive era so surprisingly quick that it took him a moment to comprehend what was happening. “Or your body that not only looks like the most holy thing to ever be created, but feels as heavenly as heaven itself - I must know, we are in heaven after all.”

The brunette’s cheeks heated up at your words. He knew you loved him, you assured him you did regularly, no matter if it was verbally or physically. But hearing so many honest and true compliments all at once was doing things to him. He was aware he wasn’t bad looking though most of his confidence was an act. A show to mask the fact that his body hasn’t been in shape for a few thousand years, a show to hide that he wasn’t as perfect as he’d liked to be. And yet you looked at him like he was the most beautiful, divine looking creation in all of existence, like he was actually that flawless, irresistible, pure, angelic dude he always said he was. And deep down inside he knew, Adam knew that even if Lilith or Eve would’ve worked out, even if they both wouldn’t have chosen Lucifer, neither of them would’ve admired and worshiped him the way you did. You. A man that had lived life on earth a couple thousand years after Eden, after Adam’s soul had entered heaven. A man that Adam had accepted as an equal way too quickly - not that you had disappointed him, you had gladly taken the equality Adam had been showing you, and now you were about to give some of it back to the brunette. His large hands were still buried in your hair as you licked up his balls, over his shaft all the way until you reached the tip. His grip tightened and his body tensed up a little - not due to discomfort but due to pleasure that shot through your body and wouldn’t stop, oh dear lord the way you made him feel. A woman could never, another dude could never. Only you were able to offer him this kind of bliss. “Please,” to say more wasn’t possible for Adam, he had drowned in the sweetness and kindness of your words, in the comfort your voice had provided and in the satisfaction your touch offered. He was out of his mind, felt your hot mouth closing around his cock and he knew his climax wouldn’t take long to roll over him. But he didn’t mind - cuming soon once was okay, especially given the situation. One of your hands caressed his testicles as your lips worked to swallow his length entirely, but before you were even close to taking all of him in, he whimpered and you were able to make out your name and ‘close’. You hummed around him, giving him the okay to cum inside your mouth and without hesitation the first man spilled his load. Rope after rope of thick warm liquid filled your mouth and you bobbed your head while Adam was experiencing his orgasm. Once the first man was spent, you pulled off his dick, your mouth filled with his seed as you crawled up his body and kissed him. The brunette was too out of it to notice you hadn’t swallowed his load just yet and eagerly parted his lips to deepen the kiss as his arm pulled you close and his now free hand slid down your body to cup your own erection. It was only then and there that he felt his own cum on his tongue - and it wasn’t just the taste of himself that lingered on your tongue, no, it was the entire load he had released inside of you that was now covering the insides of his own mouth. You pulled back a little as you whispered against his lips, “You simply need to know how wonderful you feel on my tongue.” And then you watched as Adam’s adams apple bobbed. He was swallowing his own cum and given his facial expression, he looked quite eager to do so. You gently removed his hand from your erection, moving it up to kiss the back of it instead, “No Adam, this was all about you.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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lurkingshan · 2 months

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Cherry Magic Episode 12

MY HEART IS FO FULL. This adaptation has exceeded my wildest expectations to become one of my favorite bls of all time. They really put their backs into it and gave us everything we could want for these characters, and I will always be grateful. This show managed to be a faithful manga adaptation, a loving homage to the jbl, and a fresh take on the story all at once. An amazing feat to pull off and this creative team deserves so much love and kudos.

The way Achi and Karan have grown together over the course of this show has been fantastic to witness. I love how seriously the show took their growth, and that we got to see them put in the work to improve their communication and become a great team. Meeting the parents was a big step for them, especially because they were uncertain how their respective families would react, but I loved that they were so open with each other throughout about how they were feeling. I loved, too, that we got a contrast, with Achi's mom being so warm and loving (but still managing to get a dig in on her son, lmao) and Karan's being more avoidant and passive aggressive and needing a talking to her from her eldest child to get her shit together. I love that the drama created space for things to not go perfectly with the parents, and to show us that people can be moved to acceptance.

We got a bit of a parallel with that message in Jinta and Min's story this week, with Min's fans initially attacking Jinta, but backing off once Min named him as his faen and asked them to respect his relationship. I like the choice to model positive fan behavior, and it felt a bit pointed from this production company. Both with Pai and now with this new group of fans, the show has said consistently that being a fan should be about love and support, not control. That you can admire your idols but you also need to give them privacy. That it's not your place to judge who they love. I just love that message.

Of course, I have to talk about the mutual proposal and the wedding. I am pretty sure Karan has been carrying that ring around in his pocket since the second day of dating, but it was such a welcome surprise to see that Achi had already made his own plans, too. The show really succeeded in taking this relationship from something that felt a little one-sided to a very mutual partnership I can believe in. I teared up when right along with Karan when Achi followed Karan's proposal with his own, and you could see how much it meant to him to know that Achi is really truly on the same page. Getting to see their wedding and the love surrounding them on their special day was the cherry (lol) on top of this fantastic love story. I also absolutely loved the wink to the jbl elevator non-kiss in the way they framed their final married couple kiss and then cut away from the bed.

Continuing the love fest, I also love the changes this version made to the side couple's story. Min getting to fulfill his dream, Jinta being an excellent supportive partner, their agreement that they will marry someday when they're ready--it was all just lovely. The nod to the jbl pen proposal was cute, and I love that they took it a step further by drawing rings on each other. The flip in the sexual relationships was also quite welcome, with that triumphant arc reserved for the main couple in this version. Jinta ended the show with his magical powers still intact, but it didn't seem like that would be the case for long.

As for Rock and Pai, I am happy with how the show handled their story. To the end, Pai stayed true to herself, and Rock came to know her better and understand what kind of romantic relationship he could reasonably expect from her. She will always have her head more on her ships than on her own love life, and he seems okay with it. I think you can still take an aroace read on this Pai if you choose, and I appreciate that the show made space for that. I like, too, that Pai helped Rock reconnect with his own passion for dancing and find a fun outlet for his creativity. They were another reinforcement of this show's overarching themes about the importance of kindness, support, and clear communication in relationships.

This show left me with such a warm feeling. I'm so glad they stuck the landing, that episode 8 never happened, and that we can rewatch and remember this Cherry Magic so fondly. I never expected Thailand to go so above and beyond the original live action drama, but they have undoubtedly delivered my favorite version of this story.

#cherry magic th #cherry magic thailand #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

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httpknjoon · 6 months

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(re)starting over again | kth; 12

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 5.3k

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | mentions of death, drinking, disease (cancer)

note | surpisingly, i am still alive lol i'm kidding. i apologize for the delay! the bad headaches are now gone and the fever has cooled down. and now, the update's here! to everyone who sent their messages, tysm I appreciate it 🥺 I didn't mean to ghost y'all, I'm so sorry! anw hope u enjoy reading this one :)

main masterlist | series masterlist

Ever since you were young, you liked things to go the way you planned it. When you were younger, you carried a small notebook with you. Your father gave you your first one during the holidays when you were seven. In there, you make your own little bullet journal, listing off the things you would want to do for the upcoming days. With your messy handwriting, you even wrote your far future plans.

As a child, you used to see things with your rose-colored glasses. Everything seemed real and attainable for your small hands. You thought you just had to follow the usual path of your plans and you would be fine. But things do not always go according to plan. You learned it the hard way.

You always dreamt of being a nurse. At age eight, you were a frequent visitor to the hospital. Not because you were sick yourself, but because you and your mom had to go back there from time to time with your dad who was receiving treatment for his disease. You wanted to take care of him. So you did what a little girl could do, listen to your dad’s heartbeat through your plastic toy stethoscope and kiss his pain away. He would always call you his favorite nurse and you would give him your toothy grin. After a year, when you were nine, he lost his battle with cancer.

Confused and in sorrow, you almost crossed out that dream from your list. You had a hard time understanding why you had to lose your dad at such an early age. Your friends had dads, how come you lost yours before you could even reach middle school? Then, you became angry. Your father was always in treatment in the hospital. Hospitals are meant to cure people, right? Your little kid brain thought. It felt unfair to you.

But then, you and your mom later left the small neighborhood you were living in and moved in with your aunt– her older sister. Aunty Belle is a nurse herself, a surprise for you as you didn’t know you have a relative who works in the same place you loathed at that time. But you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her, she was warm and welcoming when you arrived in her humble abode in Incheon. She doesn’t have a family of her own so she took good care of you and your mom. She became your third parent while your mom deals with the grief of losing her husband.

“It’s fun. You get to meet wonderful people every day and help them to feel better.” your aunt replied once when you asked her about her job.

Aunty Belle never got tired of your questions and curiosity about nursing. Slowly, you began rebuilding your plans. The dream of being a nurse is back, added with your other dreams: making your mom happy, and living independently (like your aunt). You studied hard, aiming for higher grades and going to the best college for your dreams.

But at age fifteen, Aunty Belle became your legal guardian when your mom passed. Through your aunt, you learned that your mother has been struggling heavier than you expected. Your aunt was extremely worried for your mom that’s why she begged her to come and live with her. You always thought your mom was getting better with how she cried less day by day and even took a job as a receptionist in a dental clinic.

Since then, you have become more understanding and emotionally sensitive to everyone. The feelings you had years ago when you lost your dad were creeping around you. This time, instead of being angry at something else, you felt like this one was on you. You blamed yourself for not seeing the signs from your mother’s eyes. How she became more reserved or how her eyes were often blank whenever she tried to smile for you. Maybe you were too focused on reaching your plans that you didn’t give any attention to her. You were angry, hurt, and in guilt. It’s too overwhelming and is heavy in your heart. It reached the point where you broke down during breakfast, in front of the toast and bacon Aunty Belle prepared for you, weeks after your mom’s funeral.

“I should’ve seen it. I should have seen that she was not okay.” you sniffed as you looked down your plate. “I was supposed to make her feel better and happy.”

Crying, you pushed your plate in front of you and just covered your face with your palms. You repeated the words over and over again like you were reminding yourself how you failed as your mom’s only child.

“Oh, sweetie…” your aunt whispered before sitting beside you and enveloping you in a hug. Her hand moved up and down your arms, making you feel warm. “It’s not your fault. You are the best daughter she could ask for. She loves you more than anything else.”

After that morning, Aunty Belle made sure to get you the best help. She guided you in everything she could and supported you with your choices. She made sure that you will still pursue your plans, never stopping you from doing what you want. Years later, you graduated from high school and were about to embark on a new journey.

“You know that you can just have this place,” she mumbled when you were packing your things. “I’m selling it anyway.”

“But Aunty, this isn’t in my plan. You know how bad I want to live in Seoul.” you smiled at her.

Because of your efforts and hard work, you got accepted into one of the best universities in another city. You later moved from Incheon to Seoul to finish your studies and become a nurse there. While Aunty Belle sold her home and followed her own plans of living with her longtime best friends under one roof.

But none of what happened in the last few years was part of your plans when you were younger. You didn’t really see yourself coming back to Incheon after living in Seoul for the longest time. You never thought you would leave your job in the hospital you dreamed of and work in a slightly different environment.

Two years ago, you left home. The house you had plans in with someone else. You were the one who broke off those plans and moved away without really telling anyone. You remembered that night like it was yesterday.

Every step you took away from him felt like a piece of you fell on the ground. Your vision was all blurry and you had to cover your lips as you sobbed. You clutched onto your gown while you remind yourself that you need to do this. For the sake of your own being. But still, there is this voice telling you to stay– to turn around and come back to him.

“YN, honey,”

Looking up, you see Julia looking at you with sympathy. She walked towards you with open arms and you immediately just broke down on her dress. Listening to your sobs, Julia eyes her date, whom you didn’t notice was there waiting too, to get in the car.

Your whispered voice muffled in the hug, “I hate this so much,”

The whole drive home, Julia and Chanyeol respected your silence in the backseat. They put on some radio music and chatted about the wedding while your teary eyes just looked outside the window. They were like your parents that night. When you guys passed by McDonald’s, it took one nudge from Julia to make Chanyeol turn the car back around for the drive-thru. She ordered your food for you in a separate bag so you could have something to eat when you reached home. When you arrived in front of your house, they helped you with your small bag.

“Thank you so much, guys. I’m sorry this is our first meeting, Chanyeol.” you tried to lighten the mood as you three stood on the porch.

He smiled, “It’s fine. Everyone has their bad day.”

You chuckled before Julia nudged her again with her elbow. Then, she turns to you.

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

“Probably early morning. I already have the keys to keep my apartment so I can go there now too if I want to.” your words rambled as your head felt like a mess.

“Okay, call me. I’ll pick you up–” Before you can say anything, she lifts her finger. “And no, I won’t take no for an answer. I wanna see your new place.”

They left after Julia made sure you were fine. Walking into your house for the last time, you tried to go straight to your room to change from your gown to your pajamas. Then, you cried again. And again. And again.

The last time you woke up in that house was the morning after that. You woke up before dawn. The sky was barely lit and the moon was still present above you. You promised yourself that you would leave like a ghost. Like what you have been doing the last few days. Cleaning up, your hand ran on your bedsheets to smoothen out the wrinkles. Fortunately, almost ninety percent of your clothes fit in two pieces of luggage. You just have to leave a few things that you’ll probably get when you get back.

From Julia

Will be there in five

Five minutes left, you find yourself sitting in front of your vanity mirror. Making one last check, you pulled the small drawers in the table. That’s when you saw that old pearl ring Taehyung bought you in the flea market. A heavy sigh from your chest makes its way out of your lips. Holding it between your thumb and index finger, you stare at it.

We tried, didn’t we?

Before any tears can fall, you simply close your eyes. Your chest heaves. You clutched that ring in your palm for some minute, like you were giving your one last goodbye. Then, you carefully place it next to your keys. You decided to leave your keys as you don’t want to come and go here in secret as you always have the tendency to do that especially if you want to avoid a person. Like you were doing now. You want to come back here better and hopefully, talk to Taehyung in the future.

Feel at home, this house is yours too. Paint the walls with the colors you like, buy new furniture, and fill the frames with new memories. Just please don’t sell it. I’ll try to reach out as soon as I can. For now, live the last years you missed.

You wrote on a piece of paper that you left on the same table. In the weeks you two lived together after the accident, you knew how he struggled to adjust to this house. Now that you’re going, you wish for him to feel comfortable in this house you two shared and called home. The pieces of furniture and shade of blue that took over every wall in the house were picked by both you and Taehyung when you bought it. The frame kept every memory you and Taehyung love to look back on in the span of your four-year relationship. But if it means for him to feel at home, you won’t mind if he wants to change things around the house. Even though it will probably break your heart harder than it is now.

“You…”

It was only your first morning, the second day in your new apartment in Incheon when someone came knocking on your door. You were still organizing your place and unpacking when you heard continuous heavy knocks. Almost instantly, your eyes widened when you saw who it was through your door’s peephole. The person spoke again as soon as you opened your door.

“You moved?!” Jisoo immediately pushed through your door and welcomed herself in. “You moved here?!”

Based on the tone of her voice, she was more angry than surprised. Her eyebrows were scrunched together while her nose flared. Her hands were on her hips like she was waiting for an explanation. Your lips opened for a second before it closed again. You softly scratched your cheek before opening your lips again,

“I-I thought you were on your honeymoon vacation.”

She tilts her head, “Well, I’m not. Am I?”

“Why are you here?” you mumbled, sounding scared at her.

The thing is, Jisoo rarely gets angry or annoyed. You had known her ever since you began working as a nurse and you learned she have the longest patience for everyone else. But when she runs out of it, you don’t know how she will react.

“Why are you here?” she returned your question with raised eyebrows. “You did not tell me you were moving here or resigning in the hospital! What happened?”

You closed the door and quietly walked back to your messy living room since you knew she would follow. She did and continued,

“I saw the shift schedule like two hours ago and you’re not there. I had to ask Gail and she said you resigned. You were not answering my calls or messages! I had to call Julia. Then, she told me you moved here– What the fuck happened? I was only busy for like two weeks and next thing I know, my best friend’s in another city and hospital.”

You sat on your grey couch while Jisoo still stood in front of you. You looked away as your replied,

“Well, actually I’ll be working in a school–”

Jisoo’s tone went higher, “What?!”

“I applied as a school nurse–”

“No, no, no.” she shushed you. “Tell me everything that happened. Everything.”

So you did. But first, you asked her to sit down next to you. You ordered food by app as you don’t really have any stock of food at the moment. While you were waiting for the food, you began telling her about what happened. From how you met Lily to how you happened to be where you are right now. Jisoo listened intently. As you went on, you noticed her shoulders and facial expression softened up. From her jaw being clenched tight, her lips were formed into a slight frown. You tried not to cry throughout the whole story-telling impromptu but your voice did shake and you just felt your best friend’s warm hands somewhere in the middle of your story. At the end, you find yourself leaning your head on her shoulder while she leans hers on top.

“I and Joon just decided to go on honeymoon next month. Plus, I have a toaster and an air fryer in my car.” Jisoo broke the comfortable silence you two shared with a random sentence.

You lifted your head, looking at her, “What? Why?”

“We received like a ton of it from the wedding. We had to give some stuff away rather than selling it and I just knew your place is probably still empty. So I just bought some. I have plates too.” she smiled.

“But what if I was the one who gave you that toaster?” you asked, squinting your eyes.

“You did not.” she chuckled but your expression didn’t change. She blinked and asked with a feeble voice, “You did not, right?”

Your lips broke into a smile, “Yeah, we didn’t.”

She pouted before you two laughed and hugged. Just like that, you and Jisoo are okay.

Unlike any of your past decisions, nothing was truly planned when you decided to move away. Aunty Belle, whom you visit every now and then, comforted you about it and said that life just happens like that sometimes. And that’s how your two years went. Unplanned. You just applied for the first good job you saw, which happened to be being a school nurse in a preschool. You moved to another apartment after just a few months since your initial place is farther on the subway you always take to get to the school every morning.

Working with kids, you always miss your patients back in Seoul. Particularly, Naeun, whom you are still in contact with. You visit her a couple of times when you go to Seoul.

And there were times when you thought you saw Taehyung. Not just in Seoul, but also in Incheon. The first one was just months after you left, you were on your way to preschool when you saw him in the subway. But you thought it was just a look-alike and impossible since he would not have any reason to come here. Plus, you were feeling a little down that week as it was supposedly your fifth anniversary. The next time is when you come to Seoul to visit Naeun. It was a busy Sunday and you stopped by a toy store in the mall to get a gift for your favorite patient. It was a bit crowded since it was on sale. So you lost him in the blink of an eye.

The most recent one is when you came to Seoul for Julia’s birthday. You had a few drinks with your friends and everything was already slightly blurry. But you swore you saw him when you were waiting for your Uber late at night. You were with Julia, who was waiting with you just to make sure you’d be safe. She was talking about something but your eyes caught a man walking on the other side of the road with his head down on his phone. The small light coming from his screen made you recognize him. It’s him, you’re sure.

Although you have visited the city a couple of times already, you never drop by the bakeshop or the house. You never even contacted Taehyung. There were times it crossed your mind. But you never did. You miss him. God knows, how much. But you don’t know what to say about the house, him, you, or the relationship you two had.

You and Jimin talked seldomly. The first one was a week after you and Taehyung officially went separate ways. He would ask how are you and you would do the same thing. You were surprised but happy at the same time when you learned he had a kid, who happens to be Jisoo’s nephew. You two had this unspoken rule to not talk about Taehyung because Jimin doesn’t bring him up and you are too shy to ask. But you know they are doing well, you heard they expanded the shop.

In the whole two years, Taehyung never really left your mind. It’s hard. Especially when you would still get random reminders of your relationship in unexpected ways. In what was supposed to be your fifth anniversary, you got a scheduled e-mail from his account. Every year, your phone calendar still updates you to buy him a gift a month before his birthday. And just like last month, you found an old picture in one of your bags. Something you probably slipped there long ago. It’s a picture taken years ago during your first snow in your house with a handwritten caption, TOO MORE SNOWY DAYS TOGETHER. It was in his handwriting.

“Goodbye, Nurse YN!”

A little kid waved his little hand to you while his mom politely smiled at you. You waved back and continued walking back from your small clinic. This is how your day ends in school: tiny voices saying goodbye and sometimes giving you warm hugs. You were never really busy since you worked with two other school nurses who you became friends with.

“Oh, hey, YN.”

You just sat in front of your computer screen, recording some student’s health records, when your co-nurse popped into your shared office. Martha just found her recent hobby a couple of months ago after you told her that you haven’t been dating for the last couple of years.

You exaggeratedly sighed and did not even look at her, “What do you want?”

“YN sounds so tired of you already.” Aileen, your other co-nurse, laughed while organizing her files.

“I know, she is.” Martha chuckled. She turns to you, “I know a guy…”

You paused from what you were doing, “Martha–”

It’s not like you’re not interested in dating. It took you more than a year to be open again to the idea and so far, you’ve gone into two dates from Martha’s recommendations. But both were not a match. The first one is a great guy but he seems like he cannot get over an ex since he talked about her half of the time. While the second guy is just rude. That’s all you can say about him. The date was all about him not liking how the steak was cooked and how one of the waiters was too kind to you. It was horrible.

“No, no, honey. Listen to me first.” Matha cuts you off. “I personally know this guy. He’s my cousin and… he also works in the medical field! He’s a doctor.”

An eyebrow raised. A doctor? Well, you never dated one before. But you knew doctors were better than that last guy you mentioned.

Aileen joined, “Is he the one you showed me earlier?

“Yup,” Martha replied, popping the ‘p’ sound.

“Oh, you’ve got to see him, YN. The guy is gorgeous!” she exclaimed. “If you won’t date him, I will!”

The three of you laughed. Of course, Aileen can’t. She is currently seven months pregnant with her second child and married to one of the teachers in this same preschool.

“Just don’t tell Seb,” she added, mentioning her husband.

You still haven’t said anything even though you are admittedly interested. Martha pulled her phone out.

“Wait, I’ll show you his account.”

“Oh, that dress suits you perfectly!”

Jisoo’s voice filled your room as you fixed the dress on your body. Even though you two are in different cities, she is still your go-to every time you need to dress up for something. Usually, through Facetiming. The date is fine-dining. So, you tried on different dresses for Jisoo to pick on and eventually, you two agreed on the same one.

“Don’t forget your coat! It might get cold,” she advised. “Now, turn around again!”

You giggled before doing what she said. You heard her cheer and compliments, making you smile.

“You are stunning!”

“Thank you so much for helping me, Jiji,” you said with a small smile.

“You’re welcome. Just have fun, okay? Let me know how it goes later.” she told you and you nodded. She spoke again, “Now, go! Book that Uber already.”

“Okay, okay. Bye! Call you later. Love you!” you waved.

She waved back, “Love you, take care!”

You ended the call and moved to another app to look for a ride. Your date initially asked if you wanted him to pick you up. But you just agreed to meet him at the restaurant he invited you to. He seems nice. Martha said her cousin has been single for a while now. After his last relationship, he just gave most of his time to work.

To +82 65 78** ****

Hi! I’m on my way. See you there.

You sent your date the message when you finally got in the car you booked twenty minutes ago. It did not even take a few minutes before he replied,

From +82 65 78** ****

Okay, see you there! Take care.

Pursing your lips, you look outside the window of the moving car. You hope for the best for tonight. You hope Martha’s recommendation is at least okay this time. Maybe the universe could prove to you that Taehyung is not the only guy in the world who could make the butterflies play around in your stomach. Or the only guy who would be patient enough with your tendencies. You just have to know that he is not the only guy in the world. Period.

As much as you won’t say it, dating Taehyung for four years made him your standard for everything. You already met two versions of him; one before the accident and one after the accident. They are almost the same person but the latter just brought you a lot of pain because of various circumstances. But you know and feel he shows his emotions in other ways.

“We’re here.” the female driver, whom you saw is Val, said as she stopped the car in front of the brightly lit restaurant.

You smiled before getting out of the vehicle, “Thank you.”

Starry Night lives up to its name. As you noticed before, the whole place is lit up with many lights. Carefully, you walked inside with your strappy heels. The staff smiled and greeted you, and you greeted them back.

“Good evening, madam. Welcome to Starry Night. How may I help you?”

“I have a reservation under Jung Hoseok’s name.” you politely replied.

“Oh, okay. Let me check our list. Excuse me.” the host scrolled down his iPad for a minute. “The name’s here! Please, follow me to your table. This way please.”

You followed him while looking around the place. It’s not too crowded and it has a romantic feeling because of the lights and jazz music. You know someone who would have loved to go here. Before you sit down, the host assisted you with the chair and offered to take your coat. You agreed. Pulling out your phone from your purse, you update Hoseok that you just arrived. You put your phone down and studied the whole place again with your eyes.

A woman caught your eye. She was talking and chatting with the chef in the side station. They looked like they were waiting for someone to enter the door. Your gaze were broke off when someone spoke from your side.

“Good evening, ma’am. My name is Soojin and I’ll be your waiter for tonight. Would you like to order something?” the young waiter smiled.

“Oh, I’m still waiting for my date…” you murmured. “But can I have some water please?”

“Certainly, ma’am. Excuse me.”

Soojin left as you said thank you. As she was gone from your sight, your eyes landed on the man who was entering the restaurant. Dressed in a nice black coat over a light blue shirt, you quickly recognize him. Your mouth runs dry while your heart beats like a horse’s footsteps in a race. You were frozen.

What is he doing he– Fuck.

Your eyes meet. You can see his eyes widening as his lips gaped slightly. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down while you practically lost your hearing. All you can hear is the drum inside your chest.

Fuck, you cursed again.

What are the chances for this to happen? Is the universe playing or simply fucking with you? You asked for a great date and it gave you this. The man you’ve been holding as your standard ever since.

It burns.

His eyes. You can feel them as you take a sip from the ice-cold glass of water. After the host led him to one of the empty tables in your line, your eyes traveled everywhere except on his spot. You two were literally just an empty table apart.

Is he here for a date? Why here? In Incheon, really? Can’t he just date people from Seoul?

It has been nine minutes, you’ve been counting. Your hand rests on your knee, to stop your knees from jerking up and down, while the other rests on the table with your phone. You’ve been texting but erasing messages to Hoseok. You don’t think you can do this. With Taehyung being just a few feet away from you, it felt wrong to be with someone else. You should have been sitting right in front of him.

Slowly, you try to move your eyes in his direction. You paused when you saw that he was staring at you too, unmovable. Are you supposed to smile? Wave? Nod. just nod. You were about to do that when the same woman from the side station walked up to him, covering your view of him.

“Hi, good evening!” you heard her honey-like voice greet him. “I’m Ashley.”

You noticed Taehyung stood up. They shake hands and you don’t really hear the rest of their conversation. You began texting your date,

To +82 65 78** ****

Hi. Where are you?

You’ve been alone for a while now.

Taehyung noticed. The glass of water on your table is almost empty. The waiter already come back to you a couple of times now. He can see you chewing on your lower lip as you check your phone every minute that passes by.

Did your date just stand you up?

His hands clutched as he thought of that idea. He knew you didn’t deserve that.

“I think this is good! Not too sweet, not too spiced. It’s soft too. Just perfect.” Ashley snapped him from his thoughts.

Taehyung tried to concentrate on what he originally meant to do here, “Yeah… uhm… Jimin, my friend, really tries to balance the texture and taste. It’s his own carrot cake recipe that he worked on before we even had the shop.”

Ashley already had a taste of every cake he brought. Five open Tupperware are on their table, including the cheesecake you love. She began talking about the other cakes and dessert while Taehyung stole some glances at you again. This time, you are on call. You pursed your lips before replying to whoever it was. He can read the disappointment through your eyes as your lips form into a small frown. You sighed before saying, it’s fine, I understand. No problem.

“Okay, these are really good. I think your products will be a great addition to our menu.” Ashley spoke again.

Taehyung looked at her with surprise, “Oh, wow. That’s… great.”

Did he just get this deal?

“Yeah, I trusted my chef when he said he had the best Tiramisu in your shop and I’m glad I did. These desserts are perfect and really satisfy my sweet tooth.” She compliments.

Taehyung bowed his head, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Your desserts deserve to be everywhere. Haven’t you guys thought of opening a branch here?” she asked.

“Oh, we’re still figuring things out. We just expanded our main shop in Seoul.” he chuckled.

“Well, I might go there when I visit Seoul.”

“Please do and let us know.” he smiled.

“I will. By the way, the contract is not ready now. But we are definitely having this deal! Can you and Jimin visit here again next week or maybe me and my head chef can visit your shop in Seoul?” Ashley offers.

“I still have to discuss that with my friend.”

“Oh, sure. Sure. Here, we are okay with any decision. Just let us know. You guys have our e-mail and numbers, right?” Taehyung nods. “Okay, I guess… that’s a done deal.”

Ashley stood up and offered her hand. Taehyung stood up too and shook her hand.

“Thank you so much.” Taehyung smiled.

While Ashley replied, he stole another glance behind her. That’s when he sees you standing up and walking back to the host at the entrance of the restaurant. The host had an apologetic look on his face as you talked to him. He helped you with your coat. It seems like you’re leaving with your date being a no-show.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. But I would have to go for now..” Taehyung carefully said.

Ashley smiled, “Oh, of course. Yes. You can go. But one more thing… can you leave these cakes?”

Taehyung chuckled with that, “Of course!”

“Thank you! See you in the contract signing!”

“See you.”

Taehyung took his coat from his seat and left in a hurry. You were already gone, possibly out of the restaurant. He said thank you to the staff who opened the door for him and he immediately searched around. That’s when he sees you standing, looking down at your phone.

“This one’s just a few minutes away–”

He took a deep breath before saying, “YN?”

taglist rules

RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [🔧🔨 ]

@iamkookiesforyou @aianloveseven @hoodalmighty @taebangtanbabe @kthsmoon @nooojaaam @hiimnothing @hiqhkey @annenakamura @taebangtanbabe @shin-ie @prlan @starlight-night0 @teddybeartaetae @http-fayeradise @tannies-luv @betysotelo18 @honsoolgloss @aurorathi @paulaaa97 @satisfied18 @telepathytae @talkyoongitome

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @ficluvr613 @misshale21

#bts angst #bts x reader #bts series #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung au #taehyung series #bts amnesia #taehyung amnesia #bts established relationship au #taehyung established relationship #restarting over again kth

258 notes · View notes

ghost-proofbaby · 8 months

Note

I’m so glad you liked the jokes!

(I though they were hilarious because my sense of humor is nothing if not bad dad jokes, puns, and sarcasm. But I can’t even take credit for them because I found them online haha)

For the blurb idk if you intended for me to ask for something specific or not but I kinda just want to see what you’ll come up with if that’s okay? I feel like any idea you had would be better than mine anyway lol. Up to you really on whether or not you already have ideas or need some help. ♥️

the jokes were so so good i loved them truly. my sense of humor is the exact same way. and oh bless your soul for letting my mind run wild. i present to you all an idea that literally sent me feral, in which you've got some new perfumes and eddie is a blind idiot.

warnings: fem!reader, reader is very vaguely described as having hair that is at least shoulder length as well as buying items such as bras perfumes and chapsticks, hints at sexual themes but no actual smut, neck kissing and just good old fashioned kissing happens, eddie is kind of a perv? a little bit? also, not edited (what's new?) minors dni.

wc: 4.1k+ (i got a little carried away)

“Smell this.”

The demand is paired with a sudden wrist in Eddie’s face that nearly has him falling off the bed.

“Excuse me?”

You and Eddie had been best friends for a while now. Since that first week of freshman year. Eddie, in all his awkward glory, had leaned up from his seat behind you in Mrs. Damon’s first hour English class, stabbed you right in the shoulder blade with a dully sharpened pencil just to inform you that he liked your shirt. You, in all your teacher’s pet façade, had only shushed him harshly and glared before turning back around. But some time between the ice breakers and the saving grace of the first bell of what would be a long high school career, you’d decided you would address him before you’d scurried out of that classroom and thank him. But not before you’d informed him that you didn’t even know the band displayed, had just thrifted the shirt for looking cool, and had unknowingly sent Eddie on a mission to educate you in the glory of his favorite band.

And nearly six years later, he was still on that mission. You were stubborn and had sworn loyalty to Fleetwood Mac before Eddie and Metallica had ever even stood a chance.

He doesn’t mind. He’d listen to the Rumors album on repeat for the rest of his days if it meant he always ended up in this position at the end of the day — in his room, on his bed, lounging with you to pass the time.

Your wrist is still held up dangerously close to Eddie’s face in the present day, a look of determination and contemplation overtaking you, “Smell. My. Wrist.”

Six years is a long time to grow comfortable with someone. And, in Eddie’s case, fall in love with your best friend.

“I’m not smelling your wrist, weirdo,” he mumbles as he swats your hand away, squinting at the way you were perched on your knees as they sunk into his mattress. He had been halfway to a much needed nap before you had lost interest in whatever magazine you’d been reading, “Why do you even need me to? What didja do to it?”

His words are still half slurring from fatigue. If he cuts off your pestering strategically enough, he might still achieve that nap his heavy bones so desperately yearned for.

You readjust yourself, flopping down to sit beside Eddie with your legs stretched out as he lifts himself up. Shoulder to shoulder, calf along calf, the two of you prop your backs against his warm bedroom wall, “I went to Starcourt yesterday with Nancy and bought some new perfumes-“

“Perfumes?” he wrinkles his nose, “Plural?”

He would have sworn he’d have noticed a new perfume, but these days, he’d been trying to put some restraint on his pathetic crush. Tried to tame the yearning inside of him, which meant less indulging in things like sniffing the air like a freakish dog whenever you entered a room just to drink in the smell of you that had brought him so much comfort over the years. Less letting his eyes linger on the straps of the bras you’d started wearing more of since you’d begun to hang out more with the likes of Nancy Wheeler, who had been single-handedly teaching you how to be a girl in a way Eddie had never witnessed from you.

You’d wasted most of your critical youth surrounded by boys, by Eddie. Go figure that Wheeler was jumping at the opportunity to mold a blank canvas.

“Yes, I bought perfumes, plural, as in multiple- oh, don’t give me that look, Munson,” you scowl when he makes a face, wrinkles forming adorably between your brows. (Brows he was pretty sure Nancy had plucked for you last weekend, but again — Eddie wasn’t supposed to notice those things anymore. Tampering the crush, or whatever idiotic goal he had set for himself.), “They were on a BOGO sale. Bite me. Anyways, I got these new perfumes, and one of the ladies was telling me and Nance how you should layer your scents. Which, God, doesn’t that sound ridiculous?”

Eddie hums, eyebrows raised skeptically at where this rambling was going.

“So I bought these scents that she said might pair well together. But then, she was talking about body chemistry and-“ you cut yourself off, clearly realizing how boring this topic might be to someone like Eddie who hadn’t even picked out his own drugstore cologne (you had), “Listen, just… just stop questioning it and smell my wrist.”

Once again, you hold your arm out in front of Eddie’s now softening face. He’s holding his breath, which he hopes you don’t notice, as he weighs his options.

Smell your wrist, probably subjecting himself to a terrible sort of pain when he realizes he'd much rather be placing feathery kisses there before moving onto your knuckles as he holds your hand. Or deny you, possibly hurt your feelings or offend you as he brushes this off as another girly thing he wanted nothing to do with.

The fleeting image of your face if he were to reject you in this moment is enough to make his choice for him.

He never could say no to you.

“What am I even supposed to be smelling it for?” he grumbles as he reaches out and grabs your forearm, opting that safer territory than your hand as he guided your skin closer to him, “Like, I’m not a scents expert, sweet-“

Oh.

Eddie’s brain short circuits as the tip of his nose brushes your soft skin. The pet name dies on his tongue, the inhale through his nose cutting off just as suddenly.

Oh, God. Oh, fuck.

He already knows he's a sucker for you, a dog with a bone when it comes to your presence and attention. He already relished in your old perfume's scent and the way it would cling to a room, lingering on his sheets when you’d sleep over after a movie night gone too late. When you’d borrow his Hellfire shirt and return it without washing it, leaving the collar tainted with sweetness and enough undertones of vanilla to make a chasm within him yearn terribly.

But this new perfume, perfumes technically, were something different. They weren’t the same as the body spray you’d been using every day since freshman year. They were deeper, more complicated, more womanly than he had prepared himself for.

“Does it… does it smell good?” you meekly ask him, suddenly going shy at his frozen state, “Like, is it working with my… my own smell? Sometimes perfumes smell good on their own but don’t work with your body’s chemistry, that’s what the lady had been explaining to me and Nan-“

“It’s working.”

It’s all he can manage to choke out as he lets go of your arm so that it falls away and takes the sweet smells with it.

God, it was working.

Eddie felt more embarrassed than he had that first month of puberty, when he was just discovering girls and noticing the stretch of t-shirts over chests. He felt even more affected than the first time he’d let his eyes wander over the back of Cheryl T’s thighs the last day of eighth grade, and discovered the wonders of an ass’ curve.

All his blood would not be rushing south. No. Absolutely not. He wouldn’t allow it, not when he was fully grown and should have some self-control, and certainly not when he was wearing his thinnest pair of boxers with grey fucking sweatpants.

Your eyes are wide with innocence, or at least what he hopes is innocence, “Really? It smells good?”

He has to clear his throat before he can properly reply, “‘s good, yeah. It, uh, yeah. Smells good.”

Think of naked grandmas. Think of kicked puppies. Think of literally anything except her soft ski-

“Awesome!” you’re suddenly sitting crisscross beside him, facing him fully, “Okay, that’s- awesome. Cool. Cool, cool, cool,” were you just as flustered as he was? Was he reading this wrong? “The lady actually told us - okay, I know it’s stupid and boring so bear with me - but she told us to put them on all our pulse points. So that way, it… uh… it makes the perfume last longer.”

He can’t get the smell out of his nose. Something so sweet, something so enticing, something so… you. The perfumes were fancy, but somehow, they were you. Smells of summer and spring and tooth-aching sweetness that was driving Eddie mad.

He’ll never be able to let you sleep in his bed again. He doesn’t want to consider what shameful, hormone-fueled decisions he would make if he had to experience his pillow smelling like that even when you were long gone.

Get it together, Munson.

“Makes sense,” he lies, still struggling to get his tongue to function properly. All he’s thinking about is trailing it over that sweet spot on your wrist now, lips sucking on every inch of skin you currently had exposed- Naked grandmas. Kicked puppies, “Is that all you needed? Can I take a nap now?”

Hell, he’s torn between wanting you to stay and ushering you out of his trailer so he can have a few moments alone. Weighing the risks of escaping to the bathroom for a few minutes too long just to get his problem under control.

He’s twenty, not fifteen. A girl’s perfume should not be affecting him this way.

Your face falls ever so slightly, “Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry. Like I said, I know it’s boring-“

“It’s not boring,” he interrupts, realizing that he’s mere seconds away from genuinely hurting your feelings. Or perhaps he’s already there, having been a complete idiot. He still remembers your face the day he’d contained his reaction to your new bra — how he’d gone into autopilot and snapped the strap like some little boy on the playground just to play off how flustered it made him. You hadn’t admitted it to him, but his reaction had hurt you. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, “The whole science behind it — it sounds pretty cool, honestly.”

Nothing that made you so excited, so giddy, could ever be boring to him. He loved seeing you buzz with your emotions and expectancy. He just didn’t love the way his heart and mind seemed to run with every single, little, goddamn bone you tossed him.

You were his best friend. He shouldn’t think of you like that. He couldn’t.

“It is,” you light back up in the slightest, saucer eyes boring into his again. Not quite as animated as before, but not quite as deflated as you had been heading, “Actually- Can I ask another favor?”

Anything.

“Sure, sweetheart,” his heart had finally slowed its pace, the reigns back in his control as the perfume lingered in the air but didn’t overwhelm him, “What’s up?”

“So… the wrists aren’t the only pulse points you’re supposed to wear perfume on.”

Oh, God. Where were you going with this?

“No?” he tries to tease, tries to smile at you. It’s fruitless — his heart has begun to pound again, “I sure hope it wouldn’t be. I mean, blood kind of rushes everywhere, isn’t that the point-“

“The neck,” you blurt out, making the rest of Eddie’s sentence disappear into the air, “The, uh, the neck is the other place. Well, not just the neck, it’s…” you trail off, twiddling with your thumbs for a second before you lift a hand to gather away any stray hairs from curtaining the side of your neck. You even go so far as to secure the hand behind your ear, “Behind the ears. You’re supposed to spray it behind your ears, too.”

“Okay…” he enunciates slowly, resisting the urge to bite his lip as he starts to catch up with where you’re going with this, and desperately hoping that he’s wrong.

“Can you… Would you…” you pause and take a deep breath, eyes shutting for a second. When you open the back up, a new wave of determination is set around your pupils, “Eddie, can you smell my neck?”

What sort of sick, twisted, wet dream am I living in right now?

Eddie is suddenly convinced you never interrupted his attempt at a nap. He’s asleep right now, soundly curled into himself, and you’re still lounging casually with your magazine on the other side of his bed. That must be it, because there’s no way you’re actually offering him to press himself so closely into your vicinity as he’s only ever dreamed of.

“What?” he weakly questions.

If this is a dream, dear God, don’t let me wake up.

“Can you smell my neck?” you repeat yourself with a little more confidence before pulling your best puppy dog eyes, “I just- I want to make sure it smells good. Everywhere.”

Damn Nancy Wheeler for whatever journey of self-discovery she’d sent you on. Damn her, and damn the perfume lady, and damn Eddie for reaping such benefits.

He should say no. He should really, really say no.

He’s wearing goddamn grey sweatpants, he should say no.

“S-Sure.”

Famous last words.

Your hair has already been moved, making it easier for Eddie when he leans forward at his waist. You lean in as well, jutting out your chin and angling your neck for his taking.

It’s such a bad idea.

The tip of his nose is bumping your skin again as his eyes flutter shut. He’s trying so hard to contain himself, to not make a fool of himself. But when he feels that softness again, when he’s being unraveled by warm notes of vanilla and patchouli, deep breaths of apple blossom of blackberry – he just breaks.

He doesn’t realize that his lips have joined his nose in brushing up against your sweet spot until he hears you let out a shaky gasp, one that almost resembles a whine.

His reaction should be to pull back. He should remove himself, apologize for going too far, stop before he’s fallen off the cliff himself. He doesn’t.

Instead, he takes a moment of stillness as his head reels, overcome in the smell of your new perfume again and ears straining relentlessly to seek out another one of those pretty sounds.

He wants to hear it again. He needs to know if it was a moan or a gasp, or nothing more than a ticklish breath.

His lips pucker with intention this time. His nose trails up behind your ear, taking in the full bodied scent of the perfume on the skin as he places another chaste kiss against your pulse.

It’s racing. Your heartbeat is goddamn racing.

The moment his lips connect, another gasp sounds. A sharp intake of breath that whistles so sweetly to his ears before you’re exhaling with a proper, albeit quiet, whimper.

No amount of naked grandmas or kicked puppies can save him now. He’s a goner – he’s been a goner – and he leaps off that cliff full force now as he leans back and out of your space.

Your eyes are shut. Eyelashes fluttering prettily, just barely brushing the skin beneath your eyes.

He almost whispers out a gentle sweetheart as he stays close enough for you to feel his breath on that very same cheek, but when your eyes finally do open to meet his, he can’t get a single word out before his body moves to its own accord.

His lips press to yours before he can overthink it.

He waits for the inevitable – for you to freeze up against him, for you to shove him off, for you to curse him out. He shouldn’t have done that. He should’ve asked for permission, he should have had more self-control.

But you don’t. Instead, you take him by surprise and you kiss him back.

Instantly, without an inch of hesitation, your lips work in tangent with his. Parting and welcoming him as if they had been waiting for this moment longer than he could comprehend. Pressing back with just as much, if not more fervency as his do. You match his desperation every step of the way until you’ve both exhausted all the breath inside your lungs. He has no choice but to pull back, to part from you and gulp in oxygen before he makes any more bad decisions.

Lord know he’s full of them when he’s suddenly gazing into your glossy eyes.

“I’m sorry-” he immediately rushes out to apologize, but a sharp shake of your head halts him.

“Don’t be,” you whisper, “I… Do it again.”

“What?”

“Kiss me again. Please.”

Eddie isn’t in the business of making you beg; he never really can say no to you.

He kisses you again. And again. And again. A collage of pecks and soft slipping, tasting your chapstick and somehow moving the two of you so that he’s back to his original position with his back against the wall, and you now straddling his lap. You hover, completely unaware of how much you’re affecting him. When you let his tongue slip into your mouth without any bartering, he ends up letting out a moan that slips right down your throat. His hands are still so hesitant, but when you reach down and encourage his palms to engulf wherever they please, he’s on a mission of exploration. Soft caresses to your thighs, from the ditch of your bent knees to the skin hardly hidden beneath the hem of your lounge shorts. They wind their way up the pathways of your hips, squeezing at the soft give of the flesh there before he continues upwards. Up, up, up – until they find home in the curve of your waist, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you impossibly close.

That damn perfume doesn’t just linger, not anymore. With you pressed against him, with the way he’s wound so tightly around you, it drowns him. Vanilla, coffee, blackberry, apple blossoms. A multitude of scents he’s sure his plain nose can’t even pick up on, and that he doesn’t really care to name. All he cares about is the smell of you. Something new and something fancy, but so very you.

“I-” you break from the kiss, “Can’t-” you smack another one on him, beginning to take initiative, “Believe-” the next one misses his mouth, hardly landing against the upturned corner, “It took-” your final kiss lands on his dimple before you pull back fully and cup his hands within your palms, still hovering and straddling his waist, “A stupid fucking perfume ruse to get you to kiss me.”

He’s lovedrunk, all slow blinks and dumb-founded smile as he looks up at you, hardly processing the words, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you squeeze his cheeks a little tighter in your touch, “I can’t believe I had to pull that whole stupid act of fluttering my lashes and oh, Eddie, can you smell my perfume for me? To make sure it smells good? To finally get you to just do something.”

His head clears a little as the ghost of your kiss still buzzes on his lips, “Wait- what?”

Your palms slide away, scratching at what scruff has gathered across his jaw line before your hands fully fall away, “You made me act like a damn fool, Eddie Munson.”

“It was all just an act?”

“I can’t believe you were so oblivious.”

“You only made me do that so I’d kiss you?”

“That,” you shrug, curling your hands into fists and gingerly placing them on his chest as his arms untangle from you slightly, only his knuckles resting on your waist now, “And the bra thing. And the whole thing when I bought all those chapsticks and couldn’t pick a favorite flavor.”

“They all tasted good,” he says, confused as he peers up at your faux annoyance, “I even tried them on for you-”

“I didn’t want you to try them on,” you whine, letting a few breathy laughs slip as you sit back, resting your weight entirely on his thighs and narrowly missing his boner you surely hadn’t noticed yet, “I wanted you to taste them off of me. I wanted you to make me put each one on, and kiss me stupid before you’d demand that I move onto the next one. I wanted to be the one to get your lips all sticky, not the fucking chapstick tubes themselves.”

“You-” Eddie’s mouth drops wide open, nearly wider than his eyes, “Hold on, you only brought that up so I’d fucking kiss you?”

You nod as if it had been obvious, grinning wildly now, “God, you’re dense, Munson. I kept telling Nancy you’d figure it out eventually-”

“What does Nancy have to do with this?”

“Nancy has been trying to help me concoct ways to get you to grow the balls and kiss me for months now. Although, to be fair, the bra thing had been Steve’s idea.”

“Harrington?” Eddie gasps out in disbelief as you only throw your head back in laughter. It’s a beautiful sound, one that makes Eddie’s heart race even more painfully than the perfume had, “You went to Harrington for advice about me?”

When you lift your head back up to look at him, you’re all soft smiles and delighted eyes as you quietly admit, “I was getting kind of desperate here.”

His chest heaves, finger unfurling from around your waist.

“I was starting to think maybe you just didn’t like me bac-”

Without warning, Eddie’s hands are gripping your hips and he’s flipping positions, pinning you beneath him. He can’t wrap his head around it. You’d been wanting him to kiss you all this time. And he’d been a blind idiot. Snapping your bra straps, stealing away chapsticks and applying them himself when this entire time, he could have been living out his wildest fantasies.

He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything more as he begins to attack you with kisses. One for every missed opportunity. No expanse of skin goes untouched as they graze over your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your neck – anywhere Eddie can access feels the pressure of his eagerness.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he curses himself over your giggles, coming up for air just to stare at you, “I could have- Oh my God. Sweetheart, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“You are,” you agree breathlessly with aching cheeks, “God, you are.”

He balances himself on his forearms as he stays lifted above you, his hair forming a curtain to cut the two of you off from the rest of the world.

You’re beautiful. Even more beautiful than that first day he’d met you in class, when you’d shushed him and all he did in return was make absolute heart eyes at you.

His best friend. The person he’d be yearning and pining for for six long years. Who had been trying to get him to kiss her for over six months now.

“I like you,” you confess, not breaking eye contact as a hand comes up to his cheek. He’s quick to turn his head, to let your palm press against him as he presses a kiss to your inner wrist, the perfume engulfing him again, “In case that wasn’t obvious.”

He swallows hard, letting his lips remove themselves slowly from your skin and his nose to linger as it presses into the smooth skin, “I like you, too. Have for a few years now.”

“A few?”

“Okay, yeah- the whole time,” his words pull a wider grin from you, “Don’t look so smug. I’m not letting you live down this whole perfume bullshit scheme.”

“And I’m not letting you live down going feral over some overpriced scented oils,” you retort, your cute snort cut short as your breath catches when he kisses your wrist again, “In all seriousness, though… Do you really think it smells good?”

He takes the opportunity to finally lower his hips. Just enough so that his crotch is brushing against your inner thigh, “Yeah, I think you could say I think they smell very good.”

Your hand travels back, caressing at his ear and sending a shiver down his spine before both of them latch behind his neck, prepared to pull him down into a kiss, “You got hard over some new perfumes, Munson? God, you’re easy.”

“I am,” he doesn’t fight it as he lets you, not gravity, tug him downwards, “I am so easy when it comes to you, baby.”

“Good thing I’m wearing one of those new bras, then,” you muse, placing far too quick of a kiss for his liking onto his lips before you tug him a bit lower, burying his face back in the side of your neck as you whisper in his ear, “Prove it.”

Eddie should probably send a thank you card to Nancy Wheeler and the mall’s perfume lady. Not Harrington, though. Never Steve Harrington.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @thebanisheddreamer @water-loos @dailyobsession @whenshelanded @happy-and-alone

join my taglist!

#ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #no use of y/n #i had so much fun with this i'm not even sorry #it had me YEARNING #GIGGLING #KICKING MY FUCKING FEET #god i hate him i wanna show him my new perfumes #shamelessly described my own new perfumes i just got too sorry

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mosaickiwi · 3 months

Note

momoo auugh i had another idea a bit ago but i forgor </3 totally not self indulgent but could i request an angel who's normally very touch-aversed (with gloves n all) carefully reaching out to redacted to just hold their hand or something small without their glove(s) 👉👈 a quiet, tender moment with angel and redacted. i need the comfort lol

hope that made sense, i love your work sm!!

hiii hiiii shalls <3!!! Immediately started on this when I got it for no particular reason hehehehehe :3c happy birthday!!

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~Touch Averse Angel~

“Ren?”

[REDACTED] perked up beside you at the sound of your voice. You’d been quieter than usual, milling from store to store lost in thought as he trailed not too far behind along the pier. It was meant to be a simple shopping date. But you were too distracted to even remember what you'd bought despite the bags at your feet.

You were staring out at the ocean, trying to work up the courage to hold his hand. It had happened a couple of times before. Only with your gloves on, once you'd mentally prepared. Never for too long, either. You wanted it to be different this time.

It took a second to realize they were still waiting, patient for whatever you wanted to say. The silence had lasted longer than you meant it to.

“Can we...” you began, unsure if you could even say it. You weren't prepared just yet as you turned to look at him. “...Can you go get me something warm to drink?” you asked.

Their response came with an amused smile, snake bites tugging up with the corners of his mouth. “Sure thing, Angel. Guessin' you want the usual?” You silently nodded. “Be right back.”

He obviously knew you meant to ask something else, but he didn't pry. Instead, he sauntered off towards a brightly patterned stall further down the pier.

You immediately fussed with the fabric of your gloves, hurried to pull them off and shove them away in a coat pocket. An embarrassed huff escaped as you turned to lean forward on the wooden railing, arms crossed to stave off the cool breeze that came to brush at your fingertips.

Maybe you were overthinking it. You didn't need to announce that you wanted to hold their hand. They'd get the message loud and clear if you just went for it.

The old wood of the pier barely creaked under his boots as [REDACTED] came back. A tall cup was set on the railing next to you, scarred fingers wrapped far at the bottom to hold it steady.

“Thanks,” you said as you reached for it. He let go as soon as you securely grabbed the top.

His blue eyes seemed to zero in on your hands. They took a sip of their own drink before asking, “Gloves bothering you?”

“Something like that,” you mumbled as you mustered up the courage again. Steam from the drink wafted into your face as you took a few sips to warm up and think it over. He wasn’t quite in reach anymore, but you’d take the next opportunity as soon as—

“I have another pair if y'need ‘em,” he said softly.

The dark-haired man pulled a set of gloves out from his jacket. They weren’t in his style, nor his size. You watched as he placed them on the railing, just as he did with the drink. Had he always been carrying around an extra pair for you? He wasn’t even wearing any of his own.

“Um, thank you,” you repeated and fell silent, a little caught off guard. You took the gloves and fiddled with them for a moment. The fabric felt softer than your other ones, and a lot warmer from being hidden away in his coat. It was comforting.

The gloves had to be stashed in another pocket for now. Yet again he didn't question your actions, despite how odd you were being—how odd you'd been all day. You drummed your fingers on the styrofoam cup as you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes.

For once, he wasn't looking at you. He was leaning back, one hand dangling off the edge of the railing while the other held his drink close to his mouth. Every so often he was biting his lip as he swallowed with a tiny wrinkle to his brow.

You shifted closer and began to reach for him.

They were quick to notice once you moved, eyes widening and darting between your face and your hand—your bare hand—that was slowly inching towards theirs on the wooden surface. There was clear anticipation in the way his fingers curled and uncurled, though he otherwise held still. Somehow his patience to let you take your time helped calm your nerves. It took a few more seconds until you eventually felt the warmth radiating from their hand.

His skin was a little rough in some places. You delicately traced over the faint veins running along the back of his hand before tucking your fingers in to touch the softer side of his palm. The angle seemed awkward, but you were determined to see it through. They slightly turned their wrist to make it easier for you to hold on.

Neither of you spoke while you settled into the feeling for the first time.

Everything about it felt different without the barrier you normally had. It was new, but comfortable. You didn’t mind how cold [REDACTED]'s fingertips were compared to the rest of him, or the way his thumb draped loosely over your unsteady knuckles. A silent sort of reminder that you could pull away whenever you needed to—except you wanted to stay like this.

If it wasn’t for the rather hasty swig of his drink that he took once you carefully tightened your grip, you would’ve seen the beginnings of an uncontrollable smile on your partner’s face.

#14 days with you #14dwy #14dwy redacted #14dwy ren #momo reqs #yippeeeeeeeee!!!#i rly liked writing this 😭#precious to me #cause it's a different kinda mushy <3 #hyper aware not to touch you ever at all unless you initiate #bringing extra gloves all the time in case something happens to yours #silently thinking they messed up somehow until you are suddenly trying to hold their hand!!!#i lub

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a-5-m-0-d-3-u-5 · 2 months

Text

Scar Tissue (Price x Trans Masc! Reader)

Contains: Tooth-rotting fluff, completely SFW, FTM reader intended but should be safe for masc leaning enbies too, 2nd person POV, reader has a singular double mastectomy scar as is very self conscious about it, ambiguous warm drink cuz I don’t like tea or coffee lol, \obnoxiously self indulgent in my opinion but I hope it resonates with others

A/n: Woof I’m nervous but I do really like how this turned out. It’s cute and it even made my partner blush despite him being cis lol also Price is your husband because it’s cute and I said so. Be gentle with this one, yeah?

Although this is safe for all ages, I ask minors please refrain from interacting with me and this post, and any other posts. This is a space for adults.

The night always made things tougher. Something about the quiet, the darkness, the otherwise calm atmosphere made it harder to chase away the more negative thoughts. Insecurities burned hot in the cold of night as you stood outside on the small veranda of your little English apartment in the crisp wintry air to try and chase them away. The rain had only just stopped pouring down in torrents. The sound of wet tires driving below you accompanied the familiar, gentle smell of rain. It was comforting. Not enough to dull the pain, unfortunately, but comforting still.

You didn’t pay attention to the time, doing so usually just stressed you out during these moments, so you hadn’t noticed how late it was until your husband had sidled up behind you with a warm mug he’d made just for you. He handed it to you silently. He learned a long time ago what being outside this long this late at night usually meant. He wrapped a warm arm around your chilled shoulders and gently pulled you against him. Finally, you started to slowly pull away from your negative thinking just long enough to quietly speak.

“Thank you,” was all you could manage, but Price didn’t mind. He knew that for you, your words carried more weight than they seemed on the surface.

He hummed in response, giving your shoulders a small squeeze to say ‘you’re welcome.’

“Doin’ alright?”

A playful glare was all your husband got in return. He was happy to see you at least still had the heart to joke a bit with him.

“Right. Stupid question. Sorry, love.”

Eventually, you’d take a sip from your mug. He always prepared your drinks to your preferences. It made your chest warm.

“Wanna talk about it?” He was looking at you now. That gentle expression always comforted you.

You shook your head and took another slow sip, “Just insecurities again. Nothing major, I’m fine.”

“That why you've been out here on the veranda staring out at nothing the past couple hours?”

You took another sip, electing to say nothing. You did make it extra noisy though, pulling a rumbling chuckle from Price’s chest in the process.

Eventually, he guided you inside. You were as cold as the dead when he’d gotten to you. He wanted to warm you up and, if you’d talk, he wanted to know what was wrong. Knowing it was an insecurity of yours narrowed it down, but not enough to pin it. He needed to know a bit more.

You sat on your small couch, Price quickly following you. He took your hand in his. The callouses that littered his palm and fingers were always grounding. You were certain if you were blindfolded and told to guess which hand belonged to him, you’d guess correctly without fail. You knew every dip and ridge in his skin like your own.

You’d finished your drink after a while. You sighed, leaning into your husband’s chest. His heartbeat never failed to help your mind quiet down a bit.

“Just my scar again…” you mumbled, lacing your fingers in with his.

He kissed his teeth, the clicking noise it made bringing you out of the beginning of another spiral, “What did I tell you ‘bout that, love? You know I think it’s perfect.”

“I know,” you said, tucking your head under his chin, “‘Fraid I don’t think the same way, is all.”

His free hand rose up to hold your head and he pressed a soft lingering kiss into your hair, “That’s why I’m here. To think that way for you. C’mon, then, on your back.”

You groaned, pretending your melancholy face hadn’t broken out into a small grin, as you were guided onto your back. Price hovered above you and lifted your shirt up to your collarbone, kissing slowly up your belly as he did so. His kisses finally reached the part of your chest you couldn’t feel anymore. The scar tissue had faded quite a bit, but it was still clearly visible. One straight line stretched across your ribcage. It was uneven, thicker in some places than others. When your clothes were on, you often forgot about it. But when they weren’t…

You couldn’t feel much of the kisses that your husband trailed across the scar. His beard would drag across the area around it, your body unsure if it tickled or itched, but you could only feel the pressure of his lips through the numb skin. Still, you looked down and watched as he worshiped the ugly line that ripped through your skin. It wasn’t neat, wasn’t typical, wasn’t the ideal, but Price always showed he never cared about that.

”It made you happy, yeah? All that matters, then,” is what he’d always say.

All those mean thoughts finally started to melt away as he continued to kiss along your chest, further up to your collarbone. He pulled your shirt down so he could kiss up your neck, across your jaw, and finally up to your mouth. You felt him grin against your lips. You suppressed an annoyed whine as he pulled away to look at you.

“Better?”

“A bit.”

“I can keep going.”

“Would you?”

You fell asleep on the couch with your shirt pulled up to your shoulders and Price’s lips against your scar.

#ftm reader #trans masc reader #masc nb reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price x male reader #john price x ftm reader #captain price x male reader #capitain price x ftm reader #price x male reader #price x ftm reader

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muiitoloko · 21 days

Note

Hi! I've been devouring your alan fics so much! They're so so so good! Do you do requests? If so I'm kinda craving for some platonic love 🫶. Is it alright to have an Eli x daughter reader? I don't have a specific plot in mind. I just want some fluff but to make it better add some angst.

But if you don't do requests, it's fine. Just ignore this lol. Just really love how you write!!

Title: Become a great artist.

Summary: He wanted you to become a great artist, so you did. But Eli realizes that you have always been a great artist.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson × Daughter! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Angst, Angst, Angst! Neglectful father, criticism, mention of rape, kidnapping, suicide, death.

Author's Notes: Thank you for reaching out and enjoying my stories. I have to admit, I got a bit carried away with this one. What started as an attempt to create something cute took an unexpected turn into anguish, and I found myself writing through tears. If this isn't what you were hoping for and you prefer something cute, just let me know, and I promise I'll whip up something adorable for you.

First, Second and Third part here.

As the birthday celebration for your father, Eli, continued, you couldn't wait to unveil the gift you had painstakingly crafted for him. The table was already adorned with a collection of thoughtful presents, but yours was the final touch to the evening.

With a hopeful smile, you presented the oil painting you had spent countless hours creating. The canvas depicted a striking likeness of your father, Eli, capturing his essence in vibrant colors and intricate details.

But as Eli glanced at the painting, his expression remained unchanged, his lack of enthusiasm palpable. You felt a pang of disappointment as you looked at him expectantly, hoping for a more heartfelt reaction.

However, your mother, Sarah, sitting beside Eli, immediately took the painting into her hands, her eyes lighting up with admiration. "Oh, darling, this is absolutely beautiful!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. "You're so talented!"

Your brother, Barkley, chimed in with his own praise, echoing your mother's sentiments. But despite their encouraging words, you couldn't shake the feeling of deflation at Eli's lackluster response.

As the dinner progressed, Eli seemed content to focus on his meal and his glass of wine, his attention drifting away from the festivities. You tried to console yourself with the thought that your father was simply not one to show emotions openly, but it still stung to see him so disinterested in your gift.

As Sarah noticed your hopeful expression towards Eli, she intervened with a comment meant to uplift your spirits. "You know, darling," she said, her voice warm and encouraging, "you have such a talent for art. You could be a great artist, like Van Gogh."

But Eli's response was not what you had expected. He scoffed dismissively, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Van Gogh? Please. The man cut off his own ear and ended up killing himself," he remarked, his words laced with derision. "Unless you're planning on following in his footsteps, I highly doubt you'll ever become a great artist. You know, the painter has to die for his works to become famous; that's how I see it, at least."

You felt a lump form in your throat at his cutting remark, your heart sinking at the realization that your father saw little value in your passion and talents. Hanging your head in disappointment, you tried to blink back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Sarah shot Eli a reproachful glance, her eyes flashing with indignation at his insensitive remark. "Eli, that's enough," she scolded, her voice firm and resolute. "There's no need to be so cruel."

But Eli remained indifferent to his wife's reproach, his attention already drifting back to his meal. Ignoring Sarah's scolding, he continued to sip his wine, his disinterest in your feelings painfully evident.

Forced to put on a brave face, you mustered a weak smile and nodded in response to your mom's apology. "It's okay, Mom," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I understand."

But inside, your heart ached with the weight of Eli's disappointment and disapproval. Despite your best efforts to please him, it seemed that nothing you did would ever be enough to earn his approval.

As the dinner continued, you tried to push aside your hurt feelings and focus on enjoying the rest of the evening. But deep down, you couldn't shake the sense of inadequacy that your father's words had stirred within you, a painful reminder of your status as the perpetual disappointment in his eyes. But you forced a smile onto your face, and you were happy. After all, it was a night to celebrate. It was your father's birthday, and everyone should be happy. You turned to your brother and started an animated conversation with him, talking about everything and nothing.

And so, the night passed until you and your brother said goodbye and prepared to leave. However, as you made your way to your car, you realized that you couldn't find your keys in your pocket. It suddenly dawned on you that you had forgotten them at your parents' house. As you approached your parents' house to retrieve the forgotten car key, you hesitated for a moment outside the door, the voices of your parents drifting through the air. Initially, you thought they were just chatting or perhaps discussing plans for the next day, but as you listened more closely, the tone of their conversation sent shivers down your spine.

"...at least pretend to be happy about her gift," Sarah's voice, tinged with frustration, reached your ears first.

Eli's response was immediate, his tone dismissive and biting. "Why should I pretend, Sarah? It's just another one of her silly paintings. If she wants to waste her time on that nonsense, fine. But don't expect me to pretend it's anything more than that."

You felt a pang of hurt at your dad's words, his lack of appreciation for your efforts cutting deeper than you cared to admit. As Sarah attempted to defend your gift, Eli's retort struck you like a physical blow.

"And what was that comment about having to kill herself to be a great artist? Honestly, Eli, can't you see how hurtful that is?" Sarah's voice, filled with exasperation and sadness, echoed your own feelings of disappointment.

Eli rolled his eyes, his impatience evident in his voice. "Oh, please. I was just being realistic. She's not going to make it as an artist, no matter how much you coddle her. And besides, if she's dumb enough to think her paintings will make her a great artist, then maybe she deserves a reality check."

You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the weight of your dad's words settled heavily on your shoulders. Despite your best efforts to please him, it seemed that nothing you did would ever be enough to earn his approval.

As the argument between your parents reached its peak, you forced yourself to open the door and step inside, your head hung low as you made your way to the counter where you had left your car key. Your parents fell silent as they watched you, their expressions filled with surprise and concern.

Picking up the key with trembling hands, you turned to face them, your voice barely above a whisper as you addressed them. "I forgot my key. I'll just...I'll see you later," you mumbled, your heart heavy with disappointment as you turned and made your way back outside.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn't shake the feeling of despair that settled over you like a dark cloud. Despite your best efforts to please your father, it seemed that you would forever be a disappointment in his eyes. And as you drove away from your parents' house, tears streaming down your cheeks, you couldn't help but wonder if you would ever be able to escape the shadow of your dad's disapproval.

As you drove home, your vision blurred by tears, you couldn't shake the weight of your father's harsh words. Each syllable echoed in your mind like a cruel refrain, cutting deeper than any knife ever could. The familiar scent of paint greeted you as you entered your apartment, your sanctuary, your studio. But instead of finding solace in the comforting aroma, it only served to remind you of your own inadequacy in your father's eyes.

With trembling hands, you made your way through the cluttered space, your eyes falling on the canvases scattered around the room. Each painting, a testament to your passion and talent, now felt like a mockery of your futile efforts to win your father's approval.

In a moment of overwhelming despair, you lashed out, sweeping your arm across the nearest table, sending brushes, paints, and canvases crashing to the floor in a cacophony of destruction. The sound of shattering glass and splintering wood echoed through the room, matching the turmoil raging within your own heart.

As you stood amidst the wreckage, tears streaming down your cheeks, you felt a sense of catharsis wash over you. With each shattered piece of paintbrush and torn canvas, you released a fragment of the pain and frustration that had been building inside you for so long.

But even as you succumbed to the chaos of your emotions, a flicker of determination stirred within you. You knew that there was only one thing that could ease the ache in your heart, only one outlet for the storm of emotions raging within you: painting.

With renewed purpose, you retrieved a fresh canvas and a palette of vibrant colors, your hands moving with a sense of urgency born from desperation. With each brushstroke, you poured your heart and soul onto the canvas, channeling your pain and anguish into a whirlwind of color and emotion.

Hours passed in a blur as you painted through the night, your movements fluid and instinctual, driven by a need to escape the suffocating weight of your father's disapproval. Each stroke of the brush was a release, a cathartic expression of the turmoil raging within you.

You painted sadness, despair, and chaos, each image a reflection of the tumultuous storm that raged within your own soul. But amidst the darkness, there was also beauty, a glimmer of hope shining through the layers of pain and uncertainty.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, you stepped back to admire your work, the exhaustion of the night weighing heavily on your shoulders. But despite the weariness that threatened to consume you, there was also a sense of peace, a quiet acceptance of the emotions that had driven you to create.

With a heavy heart and aching limbs, you collapsed onto the floor beside your paintings, the tears finally drying on your cheeks as you surrendered to the embrace of sleep. And as you drifted off into the realm of dreams, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had your art, you would always find a way to weather the storm.

Days later, despite the emotional turmoil you had experienced, you found yourself slipping back into the familiar pattern of seeking your father's approval. It was a habit ingrained deeply within you, a longing to win even a sliver of recognition from a man who seemed perpetually out of reach.

But then, news came in a surprising package: your father, Eli, had won the Nobel Prize. The announcement came through your mother, Sarah, who couldn't contain her excitement as she relayed the incredible news to you and your brother, Barkley.

Filled with a mix of disbelief and pride, you made a point to visit your parents' house to congratulate your father in person. As you entered the room, Eli's face lit up with a rare smile at the sight of you, a genuine warmth in his eyes that you hadn't seen in a long time.

"Congratulations, Dad!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement as you rushed forward to embrace him. Your dad returned the hug, his arms wrapping around you with surprising tenderness, a gesture that felt unfamiliar yet oddly comforting.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Eli said, his voice tinged with pride as he pulled away to look at you. "I couldn't have done it without the support of my family."

You beamed at his words, a surge of happiness flooding through you at the rare display of affection from your father. In that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of the bond that had been strained for so long.

As the evening unfolded, you found yourself sharing a moment of camaraderie with your father, a sense of connection that had eluded you for years. You laughed together, reminisced about old memories, and even shared a toast to celebrate your father's incredible achievement.

And amidst the laughter and joy, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to share this moment with your father. Despite the years of disappointment and frustration, you cherished this fleeting glimpse of the man behind the facade of arrogance and indifference.

As the night came to an end, and the celebrations had taken their toll, you found yourself in a state of inebriation that made driving impossible. Eli, being the responsible parent, decided to take you home. However, getting you into the car turned out to be a bit of a challenge.

You were feeling particularly stubborn and silly, bouncing around the living room with an air of joviality. "I'm the Nobel Prize winner's daughter!" you exclaimed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you twirled around the room. "And my father is a geniuuus" you sang, your voice filled with laughter.

Eli couldn't help but suppress a smile at your antics, his eyes rolling with amusement as he watched you dance around the room. But when Sarah voiced her concerns and urged you to be careful, Eli knew it was time to intervene.

With a gentle sigh, he made his way over to you, his arms outstretched in a gesture of patience and understanding. "Come on, sweetheart," he said, his voice laced with affection as he reached out to scoop you up in his arms. "It's time to go home."

You giggled uncontrollably as Eli lifted you off the ground, your arms wrapping around his neck in a playful embrace. "But Daaaad!" you protested, your words slurring slightly with intoxication. "Can't we stop by McDonald's?"

Eli chuckled softly at your request, shaking his head in amusement as he made his way towards the door. "Maybe next time, sweetheart," he replied, his tone gentle yet firm as he carried you towards the waiting car.

As you waved goodbye to your mother over your father's shoulder, a sense of warmth and contentment washed over you, despite the haze of alcohol clouding your senses. And as your dad carefully buckled you into the car, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the rare moment of connection shared between father and daughter, even in the midst of your drunken antics.

As Eli drove to your apartment, he couldn't help but suppress a chuckle at your off-key singing, the melody of your voice filling the car with a sense of lightheartedness amidst the chaos of the night. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at you, his daughter, swaying in the passenger seat with a carefree grin on your face.

Ignoring your playful antics, Eli focused on the road ahead, navigating the familiar streets with practiced ease. But despite his outward composure, there was a sense of relief in his heart as he guided the car towards your apartment, knowing that he had managed to get you home safely despite the challenges of the evening.

As the two of you arrived at your apartment building, Eli turned to you with a concerned expression, his brow furrowed with worry. "Do you think you'll be able to make it up to your apartment on your own?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern.

You nodded in response, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you reassured him. "Don't worry, Dad, I'll be fine," you slurred slightly, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in your system. "Thank you for getting me home."

Eli softened at your words, a flicker of warmth in his eyes as he reached out to gently pat your hand. "I'm always worried about your safety, sweetheart," he admitted, his voice quiet and sincere. "Just promise me you'll take a shower and get some rest, okay?"

You nodded in agreement, your head bobbing slightly as you struggled to maintain your balance. "I promise, Dad," you replied, your words muffled by a yawn as exhaustion began to weigh heavily on your eyelids.

With a gentle smile, Eli helped you out of the car and escorted you to the entrance of the building, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive as he made sure you would enter safely. "Take care, sweetheart," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of fatherly affection. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You waved goodbye to your father, a playful grin spreading across your face as you stumbled towards the entrance of the building. "I'll paint a picture of you with your Nobel Prize!" you called out, your words slurred but filled with determination.

Eli rolled his eyes at your drunken proclamation, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. "Don't waste your time on that," he replied, his tone teasing yet affectionate. "Just focus on getting some rest."

As you stumbled through the doorway and disappeared from sight, Eli stayed parked outside the building, his gaze lingering on the entrance with a sense of lingering concern. Despite his dismissive words, there was a part of him that couldn't help but worry about you, his daughter, stumbling through the darkness alone.

He knew he was tough on you sometimes, but he just wanted you to be better, to have the best, and he knew his silly paintings wouldn't give him that.

With a heavy sigh, he finally pulled away from the curb and began the journey back home, the events of the evening swirling through his mind as he navigated the empty streets. And as he drove through the quiet night, a sense of gratitude washed over him, knowing that despite the challenges and complexities of their relationship, he would always be there to watch over you, his beloved daughter.

Meanwhile, you went up to your apartment, fumbling a little with your keys before getting in, falling straight onto the couch tiredly. Despite the alcohol-induced haze clouding your mind, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and warmth lingering within you. The evening spent with your father, Eli, had been unexpectedly pleasant, filled with laughter and genuine moments of connection that you hadn't experienced in a long time.

As you settled onto the couch, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion, you couldn't help but replay the events of the night in your mind, savoring each precious memory like a cherished treasure. Despite Eli's usual indifference and tendency to dismiss your passions, you had managed to share a moment of genuine camaraderie with him, a glimmer of the father-daughter bond that had been strained for so long.

In that moment, you felt a surge of love and gratitude towards Eli, a flicker of hope that perhaps, despite his flaws and shortcomings, he did care about you in his own way. You drifted off to sleep with a smile on your face, the warmth of the evening wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

But days later, your sense of security and reassurance would be shattered in an instant, replaced by a chilling realization that would rock you to your core. Bound and gagged, staring into the face of your kidnapper, you felt a sense of disbelief and terror wash over you as they dialed your parents' number, putting the call on speaker for you to hear.

As the voice of your father, Eli, echoed through the room, you held your breath, desperately hoping for a glimmer of compassion or concern in his words. But what you heard instead sent a shockwave of pain ripping through your chest, leaving you reeling in disbelief and agony.

"I'm not giving you two million dollars for her," Eli's voice, cold and dismissive, cut through the silence like a knife. "She's not worth that much."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, crushing any lingering hope or illusion you had held onto about your father's love and affection. In that moment, you realized with devastating clarity that Eli's indifference towards you ran deeper than you had ever imagined, his actions speaking volumes about the true extent of his disregard for your well-being.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled against the bonds that held you captive, the weight of Eli's betrayal bearing down on you like a heavy burden. How could he abandon you like this, in your darkest hour of need? How could he place a price tag on your life, as if you were nothing more than a disposable commodity?

As the reality of your situation sank in, you felt a sense of despair and hopelessness wash over you, threatening to consume you whole. And in that moment of darkness, the flicker of love and gratitude you had felt towards Eli was extinguished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of betrayal and abandonment.

"I'm not joking," the kidnapper insisted, his tone cold and merciless. "I want two million dollars, and I want it now. If you don't pay up, she'll suffer the consequences."

How could your father refuse to pay for your freedom? The realization that he considered you unworthy of such a sum was like a dagger to your chest, leaving you gasping for air as you struggled to comprehend his callous indifference.

Meanwhile, in his hotel room in Stockholm, Eli ended the call with a dismissive flick of his wrist, his mind already moving on to other matters. When Sarah questioned him about the call, he brushed it off with a casual shrug, dismissing it as unimportant.

"No one important," he replied, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Just some prank caller trying to get a rise out of me."

But little did Eli know, as he lounged in his luxurious surroundings, that his daughter's life hung in the balance, her fate at the mercy of a ruthless kidnapper who saw her as nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game.

Back in the dimly lit room where you were held captive, the kidnapper crouched in front of you, his eyes filled with uncertainty as he pondered his next move. The prospect of not receiving the ransom he had demanded left him feeling conflicted, unsure of what to do with you now that his plans had been thwarted.

"What am I supposed to do with you now?" the kidnapper muttered, taking the gag off of you, his voice tinged with frustration and uncertainty. "If your daddy won't pay, then what's the point of keeping you around?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to his words, fear and panic gripping you in their icy embrace. The thought of what he might do to you now, with no hope of rescue in sight, sent shivers down your spine, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to keep your composure.

But your terror only intensified as you saw the hungry look in the kidnapper's eyes, a predatory gleam that sent a chill down your spine. You knew what he was thinking, could see the lust and desire written plainly on his face, and the realization filled you with a sense of helpless dread.

"No, please," you begged, your voice trembling with fear as you pleaded with him. "Don't do this. Please, just let me go."

But your pleas fell on deaf ears as the kidnapper's gaze lingered hungrily on you, his lips curling into a sinister smile that sent a shiver of revulsion down your spine. In that moment, you knew with chilling certainty that your fate was sealed, that there would be no rescue, no salvation from the horrors that awaited you.

Desperate and terrified, you called out for your father, Eli, your voice cracking with anguish as you begged him to intervene, to save you from the nightmare unfolding before your eyes. But deep down, you knew that he would never come to your rescue, just as he had never come to your aid on that fateful day when you first learned to ride a bike, falling and crying out for him, only to be met with silence and indifference.

And as you lay in the hospital bed, staring at the blank white ceiling above you, memories of your father flood your mind like a torrential downpour. You can't help but think back to that day when you were just a child, learning to ride a bike for the first time. You remember the excitement in your heart as you pedaled furiously down the street, the wind rushing through your hair as you gained speed.

But then, disaster struck, and you lost your balance, tumbling to the ground in a heap of scraped knees and tears. Through the blur of pain and disappointment, you cried out for your father, hoping for his comforting embrace to soothe your wounded pride. But he was nowhere to be found, lost in his own world of ambitions and achievements, too preoccupied to spare a moment for his injured child.

That day was just one of many in a long list of your father's neglectful moments, a pattern of behavior that had shaped your relationship with him for as long as you could remember. From missed recitals to forgotten birthdays, Eli's indifference had left an indelible mark on your psyche, a wound that festered with each passing disappointment.

And today was just one more addition to that list, a stark reminder of your father's priorities and his lack of concern for anything or anyone outside of his own ambitions. As you lay in the hospital bed, grappling with the aftermath of your ordeal, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over you, a bitter acceptance of the fact that your father would never change.

Meanwhile, outside the hospital room, your brother Barkley paces back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor as he anxiously dials your parents' number. After several rings, his father Eli finally answers, his voice tinged with annoyance as he questions Barkley's reason for calling.

"What is it, Barkley?" Eli snaps, his tone curt and dismissive as he brushes off his son's attempt to interrupt his celebration. "I'm in the middle of something important. This better be worth disturbing me."

Barkley takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation that he knows is about to unfold. "Dad, it's about [Your Name]," he says, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "She's in the hospital."

Eli's response was immediate, his tone shifting from annoyance to genuine concern as he pressed Barkley for more information. "What do you mean she's in the hospital?" he demanded, his voice tinged with panic. "Is she okay? Explain this properly."

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Barkley relayed the details of the situation as best as he could. "She was found abandoned in a dirty alley," he explained, his voice trembling with emotion. "Some people called 911, and she was taken to the hospital. They tried to call you and Mom, but you didn't answer, so they called me."

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line as Eli processed the gravity of the situation. Despite his usual self-centered demeanor, a flicker of concern and fear crept into his voice as he responded. "Is she okay? What happened to her?"

Barkley hesitates for a moment before delivering the next piece of devastating information. "The doctor said she was raped and assaulted," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "They found evidence of trauma...down there."

Eli's breath caught in his throat as he struggled to process the horrifying news. "Oh my god," he whispered, his voice filled with shock and disbelief. "Is she...is she conscious? Can she talk?"

Barkley's heart aches as he shakes his head, the weight of the situation bearing down on him like a leaden weight. "No, she's not talking to anyone," he replies, his voice choked with tears. "She's just...staring into space."

Eli's mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions as he struggled to comprehend the extent of his daughter's suffering. "Is she going to be okay?" he asked, his voice trembling with fear. "What did the doctor say?"

"The doctor said she's in shock," Barkley explains, his words coming out in a rush. "They're doing everything they can for her, but...but we need to be there, Dad. She needs us."

Tears welled up in Eli's eyes as he listened to his son's words, the weight of his daughter's suffering bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I'm coming," he said, his voice filled with determination. "Tell her...tell her I'm coming to her. I'll be there soon."

As Barkley looked out the window, his heart sank at the sight of you lying motionless in the hospital bed. He felt a surge of helplessness wash over him as he listened to your father's voice crackle over the phone, his words filled with a mixture of concern and desperation.

"Dad, I don't know what to do," Barkley confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "She's not responding, she's just...staring into space."

But before he could say anything else, Eli's voice cut through the air, his tone strained with worry. "She'll be fine, Barkley. She has to be," he insisted, but Barkley could hear the uncertainty in his father's voice, the underlying fear that threatened to consume him.

Barkley nodded weakly, his own doubts and fears swirling inside him as he struggled to find the strength to comfort his sister. "I know, Dad. I just...I wish there was more I could do," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eli fell silent for a moment, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air between them. "Just be there for her, Barkley. That's all we can do," he said finally, his voice tinged with resignation. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

As the call ended and the limo sped towards the nearest airport, Sarah clung to Eli's side, her own worry etched across her face. "Is she going to be okay?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with concern.

Eli wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close in a comforting embrace. "She'll be fine, Sarah. She has to be," he repeated, but his words sounded hollow even to his own ears, the guilt weighing heavily on his conscience.

Meanwhile, in the hospital room in California, Barkley walked in and approached your bedside, his heart heavy with worry. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently as he tried to find the right words to say.

"I talked to Mom and Dad," he began softly, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Dad's coming, you know. He'll be here soon."

But you remained silent, your gaze fixed on nothing as you lay there unmoving. Barkley felt a pang of sadness in his chest at your lack of response, the weight of your suffering bearing down on him like a heavy burden.

"I know how much you love Dad," Barkley continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "Maybe when he gets here, you'll snap out of this. Maybe you'll come back to us."

But as he spoke, Barkley couldn't shake the sinking feeling in his gut, the fear that you might never be the same again. And as he sat there holding your hand, surrounded by the sterile scent of the hospital room, he prayed silently for a miracle to bring you back to them.

But you remained silent, your usually vibrant personality seemingly extinguished by the traumatic events you had endured. Barkley had never seen you so quiet; you were always the talker, the light of the family, bringing laughter and joy wherever you went. But now, the silence that surrounded you felt suffocating, like a heavy blanket weighing down on their already burdened hearts.

Days passed, and Barkley's fears began to materialize. Despite being released from the hospital, you remained distant and cold, your eyes hollow and devoid of the spark that once lit up your face. The only time you opened your mouth was to recount the harrowing details of your kidnapping and assault to the police at the hospital. After that, you retreated into yourself, shutting out the world and refusing to engage with anyone, not even your father, who had always seemed to be the center of your world.

"Barkley, I don't know what to do," Sarah confided in him one evening, her voice trembling with worry. "She won't talk to me, she won't talk to Eli...I'm afraid she's slipping away from us."

Barkley's heart ached at the pain in his mother's voice, his own sense of helplessness mirrored in her eyes. "I know, Mom. I'm worried too," he admitted softly, his voice tinged with sadness.

Together, they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they grappled with the enormity of the situation. Barkley couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt gnawing at his conscience; if only he had been able to protect you, to prevent this tragedy from befalling you. But deep down, he knew that no amount of regret could change what had happened.

As days turned into weeks, Barkley watched you from a distance, his heart heavy with worry and guilt. You had retreated into yourself, isolating yourself in your apartment and shutting out the world. Barkley couldn't help but feel a sense of helplessness as he watched you paint, your once vibrant and colorful creations now replaced by somber and melancholic images.

He tried to talk to you, to break through the wall of silence that surrounded you, but you ignored his every attempt. It pained him to see you like this, lost in your own despair, but he didn't know what else to do.

One evening, as Barkley once again attempted to reach out to you, you brushed him off without a word, your silence speaking volumes. Defeated, Barkley turned and walked away, his heart heavy with disappointment.

But Barkley had a plan, a desperate bid to escape the suffocating weight of his guilt and the toxic environment that surrounded him. With your mother's help, he concocted a scheme to steal money from your father, Eli, and leave town for good.

Together, they managed to steal two million dollars from Eli’s accounts—enough to start a new life, far from the pain and suffering that consumed his family. They assured you that you would be fine, asking if you wanted to go with them, but your silence was answer enough.

And so, one fateful night, Barkley and your mother disappeared into the night, leaving you behind in your empty apartment, alone with your thoughts and your paintings.

Meanwhile, in his luxurious home, Eli wasted away, drowning his sorrows in alcohol as he wallowed in self-pity and regret. He had lost everything – his money, his wife, and now his son. But he still had you, his daughter, his beautiful daughter whom he had failed to protect.

Eli's cell phone rang on the coffee table in the dimly lit living room, breaking the silence that had enveloped the house for weeks. He glanced at the caller ID but didn't recognize the number, yet he answered it eagerly, hoping for some sign of life amidst the desolation.

"Hello?" Eli's voice trembled with anticipation as he held the phone to his ear.

"Dad?" Your voice, soft and distant, echoed through the line, sending a surge of relief and concern coursing through Eli's veins. He hadn't heard your voice in weeks, and the sound of it now filled him with a mixture of joy and apprehension.

"Is that you, sweetheart?" Eli's heart raced as he waited for your response, his mind racing with a thousand questions.

But before he could say anything else, you interrupted him, your voice carrying a weight that chilled him to the bone. "You were right, Dad," you said, your words hanging heavy in the air. "The painter has to die for his works to become famous."

Eli froze, the blood draining from his face as he struggled to comprehend the meaning behind your words. His mind raced back to your paintings, the somber and melancholic images that had replaced the vibrant and colorful creations you had once produced. Was this what you had meant?

"What do you mean, sweetheart? Where are you?" he questioned, his voice laced with concern and dread.

You continued speaking, your voice hollow and distant. "Because people like it, right? People like tragic things, sad things," you said, your words echoing with a disturbing clarity.

Eli's heart sank as he realized the gravity of the situation. "No, no, my dear, please don't do anything rash," he pleaded, his voice tinged with panic. "Tell me where you are. I'll come to you right away."

But you remained resolute, your mind seemingly made up. "I'm on a bridge," you replied calmly. "I'm going to jump, father. I'm going to become a great artist like Van Gogh."

Eli's hands shook as he held the phone tightly to his ear, the weight of your words crushing him with a suffocating sense of helplessness. "No, please, don't do this," he begged, his voice choked with tears. "I'll do anything, just please come back to me."

Eli's heart sank as he listened to your unsettling silence, his sense of guilt and regret weighing him down. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know I haven't been there for you like I should have," he said, his voice filled with sorrow. "But please, don't do this. I'm coming to you right now. Just stay still, okay? Don't move."

But you interrupted him, your voice cutting through the air with a bitter edge. "You never came to my aid when I needed you, Dad. You never did," you said, your words laced with disappointment and resentment.

Eli's chest tightened at your accusation, the weight of his failures as a father bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I know, and I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I've been a shitty father, and I regret it every day."

But you remained steadfast, your resolve unyielding as you spoke once more. "The key to my apartment is under the rug," you said calmly, your voice cutting through the chaos of the moment. "My paintings...put them up for auction. Maybe then you can recover the money Barkley and Mom stole."

Eli tried to protest, to argue that the money didn't matter in comparison to the value of your life, but you silenced him with a swift motion, sliding your cell phone and tossing it off the bridge, watching it disappear into the depths below.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, your mind set on your decision. "Become a great artist," you whispered to yourself before taking the leap, the rush of wind drowning out the sounds of the world around you.

As you plummeted towards the water below, a crowd of onlookers gathered on the bridge, their smartphones held high as they captured the moment for posterity. But you paid them no mind, your focus solely on the journey ahead, whatever it may bring.

A month had passed since the tragic day you took your leap from the bridge, and Eli found himself enveloped in a fog of despair. Despite his best efforts, there was still no sign of your body, no closure to the nightmare that had consumed their lives. The newspapers relentlessly replayed the cell phone footage of your final moments, each viewing tearing at Eli's heart anew.

With a heavy heart, Eli finally gathered the courage to fulfill your final wish. He put your paintings up for auction, just as you had requested, each stroke of the brush a painful reminder of the vibrant soul you once were.

Sitting at the back of the auction hall, Eli struggled to maintain his composure as each painting was presented to the eager bidders. Memories flooded his mind with each piece, from the happiest to the darkest, each one a testament to the complexity of your spirit.

He remembered the little girl he once carried in his arms, her bright eyes gazing up at him with an innocence that melted his heart. Back then, he had felt a twinge of disappointment at having a girl instead of the son he had hoped for, but that feeling quickly dissipated as he held you close, your warmth and love filling the void in his heart.

He recalled the annoyance he felt when you were a child, following him everywhere and refusing to leave him alone for a second. He had often found himself exasperated by your constant presence, yearning for moments of solitude that seemed perpetually out of reach.

Then there were the times you had forced him to have tea with you and your dolls, a memory that now brought a bittersweet smile to his lips. He remembered the humiliation he had felt, sitting awkwardly amongst your toys, pretending to sip from a tiny porcelain cup as you chattered away happily.

But perhaps the most vivid memory of all was the day you had drawn on the important papers he carried with him everywhere. He had scolded you harshly for it, unable to understand why you would deface something so precious to him. But you had looked up at him with tears in your eyes and explained that you just wanted him to carry a little piece of you with him wherever he went. In that moment, Eli had felt a surge of tenderness towards you, his anger melting away as he realized the depth of your love for him.

As another painting of you went up for auction, Eli forced himself to become stoic, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He watched with a mixture of pride and sadness as the bids climbed higher and higher, each one a testament to the impact you had made on the world with your art.

Finally, a man stood out amongst the crowd, offering two million dollars for one of your paintings. The auctioneer turned to the man and asked for his name, and Eli's heart skipped a beat when he heard the answer.

"Lionel Shabandar," the man introduced himself, his voice carrying a note of authority as he met Eli's gaze with a steely determination.

But Eli looked away, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions as he remembered who Lionel Shabandar was. One of the richest men in London, Shabandar's presence in California seemed out of place. Why would he be here, at this auction, to buy a painting of his daughter's?

The auction continued, and Eli watched in surprise as Shabandar purchased nearly all of the paintings, one after another, with unwavering determination. Eli couldn't comprehend why Shabandar, a man of such wealth and influence, would be interested in his daughter's art. But the sight of him acquiring every piece only deepened the mystery.

As the auction drew to a close and Shabandar rose to leave, Eli felt a sudden urge to confront him. He hurriedly followed Shabandar, calling out for him to wait. Surprisingly, Shabandar halted in his tracks and turned to face Eli, greeting him with a nod as if they were old acquaintances.

"Doctor Eli Michaelson, isn't it?" Shabandar's voice was smooth and cultured, with a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Eli nodded, a sense of unease creeping over him. "Yes, that's me. But forgive me if I'm mistaken, but do we know each other?"

Shabandar smiled knowingly. "No, not personally. But I've heard about you, Doctor Michaelson. Congratulations on your Nobel Prize," he said, his tone respectful.

Eli brushed off the compliment, his mind focused on the matter at hand. "Thank you, but that's not why I'm here. I need to know why you bought all those paintings."

Shabandar raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Isn't it obvious? Your daughter was a remarkable artist."

Eli's eyes narrowed skeptically. "Remarkable, yes, but why would you, of all people, be interested in her work?"

Shabandar chuckled softly, gesturing towards the paintings on display. "Because I recognize talent when I see it, Doctor Michaelson. Your daughter's art spoke to me in a way that few others have. Each brushstroke, each detail, conveyed a depth of emotion that is truly rare."

Eli remained unconvinced, his suspicions lingering like a shadow. "And what do you plan to do with her paintings now that you've bought them all?"

Shabandar shrugged nonchalantly. "Display them, perhaps. Or perhaps donate them to a museum. It's too soon to say."

Eli studied Shabandar carefully, searching for any sign of deceit or ulterior motive. But Shabandar's demeanor remained calm and composed, his intentions shrouded in mystery.

Before Eli could press further, Shabandar glanced at his watch and made to leave. "I must be going, but congratulations, Doctor Michaelson, your daughter has become a great artist," he said, offering a polite nod before disappearing into the crowd.

Eli was left alone, standing still amidst the bustling auction hall, his thoughts consumed by a flood of memories. As he turned to look at the paintings that had once adorned the walls of your apartment, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride welling up inside him.

You didn't become a great artist, no, you already were for a long time. Since you were a child and scribbled on the walls, on Eli's important papers, until Eli got fed up and gave you a painting kit. He remembered the day vividly, the frustration in his voice as he handed you the brushes and the canvas, hoping to pacify you with a creative outlet.

He could almost see you there, looking at the blank canvas and the paints in your tiny hands, asking your father what you should paint. And he, in his typical dismissive manner, had simply replied, "Paint something that will make me proud."

And you had smiled at him, a radiant beam of innocence that melted his heart, before setting to work with a determination that belied your tender age. You painted and painted, your tiny fingers creating masterpieces that Eli had never thought possible.

But despite your talent, Eli had never been proud of your paintings, always dismissing them as mere child's play. He had been blind to the beauty and depth of your art, too wrapped up in his own ambitions to see the world through your eyes.

As he stood there now, surrounded by the remnants of your creativity, Eli felt a pang of regret gnawing at his conscience. He wished he could go back, to cherish those moments with you, to celebrate your talent and nurture it with the love and support you deserved.

But it was too late for regrets now. All he could do was honor your memory, to ensure that the world knew of the remarkable artist you had been. And as he looked around the auction hall, at the eager bidders clamoring for a piece of your legacy, Eli couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Lionel Shabandar, the enigmatic stranger who had recognized your talent when he had failed to do so.

With a heavy heart, Eli made his way home, the weight of his emotions threatening to crush him with each step. But amidst the grief and the guilt, there was a glimmer of hope, a flicker of pride in knowing that you had left behind a legacy that would endure long after you were gone.

And as he gazed at the painting kit he had given you all those years ago, now gathering dust on a forgotten shelf, Eli made a silent vow to cherish the memory of his daughter, the talented artist whose brilliance had shone brighter than he could have ever imagined.

#eli michaelson #eli michaelson x reader #barkley michaelson #sarah michaelson #nobel son #alan rickman x reader #alan rickman

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kteezy997 · 6 months

Text

The Other Man- Part Six// t.c.

yes, im using this photo to torture you.

Warnings: fluffy as hell, shower sex, oral sex male receiving, actually I’m gonna stop with the warnings on this one bc honestly this is very explicit and filthy, if you're not 18 or older don't read this lol

Timmy said, ‘I love you.’ It didn’t shock you; it didn’t make you shoot your eyes open and ask him if he was crazy. His words didn’t even faze you in that way. It was quite the opposite, actually. You were soothed by it.

He didn’t expect you to respond. You both just went straight to sleep, feeling relaxed and cozy together on the couch.

In the middle of the night, he awoke and carried you to your bedroom upstairs so you could sleep more comfortably. You had the images of him tucking you in with your warm blankets flashing through your dreams.

In the early morning, you woke up before him. You looked over at him, he stirred but didn't raise out of his slumber. You took the moment to admire his pure beauty. His curls were messy from sleeping and splayed across his pillow and his forehead. His naked chest rose and fell with his rhythmic breathing. His eyelashes were thick, and they fluttered some as his eyelids moved ever so noticeably as he dreamt. You took it upon yourself to smooth out his overgrown, woolly brows.

"Baby." you whispered to him, thinking that he could certainly hear you in his shallow state of sleep.

"mm." Timmy grumbled lightly. He could hear you.

"I'm gonna get in the shower." you said softly, then kissed his forehead after you pushed his disheveled curls back. You smiled to yourself as you watched him snuggle deeper into the pillow, too sleepy to get up yet.

You stepped into the shower feeling happier than you had been in years. You weren't stressed, you weren't annoyed at Billy for leaving his clothes or a towel on the bathroom floor, you weren't even thinking about work. You called in and said you were sick when you woke up. You never took days off, so you had some sick days you could use up.

The warm water flooded your skin, soothing any aches and pains that Timmy had given you during your lovemaking. To be honest though, you would carry around the soreness in your core all the time, just to be reminded that you were now his, and he was yours.

You felt a little bit guilty about not saying that you loved him back. You hoped he didn't go to sleep with any doubts about your feelings for him. You lathered up and scrubbed away at your face and body, knowing that you had a layer of sweat all over you from last night.

You heard the bathroom door open: Timmy.

He pulled the shower curtain back, grinning at you and then stepping into the shower with you. He got behind you, pulled the curtain closed, and gently swept your wet hair back. Kissing you on the cheek, he started to rub your shoulders.

You moaned softly in relief.

Timmy went on massaging your neck, kneading his fingers into your skin. He ran his palms down your arms, taking his time. You knew what was happening. He was spoiling you, just the same way as you did to him on your first night together. It meant a lot to you for him to lay back and let you love him. And now, without the words, he was returning the favor. Not that he needed to at all, but he wanted to, without an ounce of selfishness.

He kissed your neck, left little pecks on your shoulders, but it wasn't because he hoped to fuck. It was love. And you knew it.

"Timmy," you said, carefully turning toward him, "I'm sorry I fell asleep before responding to what you said last night."

He smiled, "Don't worry, I didn't think anything of it." He moved in front of you, wetting his hair. "We were both pretty beat anyway."

You bit your lip at the sight of his curls slumping down into his face as they got wet. You watched the water run down his tight body. He looked like a damn porn movie. He'd be the highest-paid star in the industry if he made the career change. You nearly salivated when you noticed the water droplets collected upon the dusting of pubic hair he had.

"Are you just looking or..." he spoke, and you looked up at him. His eyes turned a deep-sea green and he narrowed them at you. "Or are you wanting something?"

"Hmm." you hummed, flicking a sly grin at him before kneeling in front of him. You placed your hands on his wet thighs.

"y/n." he cooed your name and sank his fingers into your hair.

You took his cock into your hands, the water in the shower acting as a lubricant so you could stroke him. You kissed the tip, "Such a nice cock, baby." you said, pumping your hands slower to tease him.

Timmy murmured some curse words and put his hand on the shower wall. He looked down at you. You saw the muscles in his torso and arms tense up.

You put his cock between your moist lips. He used his hand to shield your eyes from the water falling down. You slurped and sucked on him, not totally able to fit his entire length in your mouth. But you did play with the tip and the slit with your tongue, swirling around it and flicking the spot where his precum began leaking out. You moaned when you tasted him, no doubt vibrating his cock.

Timmy smacked the shower wall, not hard, but just to relieve some of the tension he was feeling. He was bucking his hips softly, carefully, sliding his long cock in your mouth, barely grazing the back of your throat. "Fuck, I wanna be in your pussy." he huffed out.

You put a hand flat on his lower tummy, "Wait, baby, I wanna try something." You raised up, still on your knees, taking one of your breasts in each hand. You placed them on either side of his hard cock. It was red and leaking translucent white creamy streams. You used your tits to stroke him.

You thought Timmy's pretty eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. His mouth agape, he kept a hand lovingly on your back to hold you in place. His other hand was placed on your hand to help you keep your grip on your boobs as you pumped his cock.

"You are fucking everything." he praised you, petting your wet hair. He caressed your face. "Feels so incredible. I love your tits so much. You're perfect."

His words sent beams of throbbing aches to your pussy. You held his cock still between your breasts, and licked the slit of his cock, welcoming the salty cream of him onto your tongue again. You swallowed and giggled sinfully as you looked up at him.

"I'm gonna fuck you into oblivion." he said. And he did. He grabbed you forcefully, getting you back on your feet and shoved you against the wall. He propped your left leg over his hip and pushed his cock inside you in one go. He held your waist with his hands and rammed into you. Wet smacking sounds from your bodies echoed in the shower.

"Oh my God, Timmy!" you cried. Your breasts bounced and your hard, sensitive nipples met his chest with each thrust. The friction there was exquisite. Curse words spilled out of your mouth without you even knowing that you were saying them.

Timmy kissed you sloppily, on the lips, on the cheek, wherever he could get you.

You kissed back with the same passion. You wanted to devour this man. You put your arms around him tightly as he fucked you harshly. After about another minute, your thought your body would explode, but it was only an orgasm. You closed your eyes, seeing stars. You felt his hips shaking and he shot his load into you as well.

"Timmy," you said, breathing heavily and still hugging him, "I love you."

He rested his forehead on your shoulder. He hadn't let go of you yet, either. "You're not saying it just because my cock is in you, are you?"

"No!" you cried, you took his face in your hands, "I love you, Timothee Chalamet." You brushed his curls out of his eyes so he could know that you were sincere by seeing your eyes.

He nodded, "Good." he pecked your lips, and then turned to leave the shower.

You were left in the shower with your thoughts, and you couldn't help but feel down. You weren't convinced that he fully believed in you.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator

Author’s note: This isn’t as long as some of the other parts. I’ll make up for it.

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut

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l00na24 · 4 months

Text

I Got Your Six - Chapter 5

Warnings: Death, some things won't be 100% accurate to reality and are written that way for the sake of the story

Word Count: 9k

A/N: Hello 🤗 First of all I wish everyone a happy new year even if it's a bit late but I hope all of you are doing well and had a great start into the new year! 🥰 I am so sorry it took me sooo long to finally get this chapter finished (after changing it about a million of times because I wasn't happy with it lol), which I had wanted to get out before Christmas but unfortunately I got sick for a few weeks and then real life stuff came up right after 😓 But now it's here and I hope you enjoy reading it with things turning up a notch 😋 And don't worry, the next one won't take that long because I'm already on it! 😉

Also a little part of this chapter was inspired by the original Triple Frontier Script which I totally recommend you to read if you haven't already!

7 days later, 4 PM, Brazil, Jungle (at Lorea’s house)

It was a humid warm and cloudy day when I crept through the various green plants that surrounded me. The typical climate you would expect in a jungle.

Exotic birds occasionally flying high above the treetops and filling the wild and untamed nature with their chirping or insects buzzing around between leaves big enough to cover my body entirely, some smaller ones with the similarity of palms that fit perfectly in the spaces between together with other, more colorful plants or bushes on the ground. Meter long lianas hanging from above that were winding themselves along the branches of some big trees like snakes.

If I wouldn’t be here for a mission, I would take my time admiring every little detail and the peaceful, quiet and yet a tad mysterious atmosphere with the slight fog floating around.

The calm before the storm.

How the ridges of the Andes, completely covered in green nature and shrouded in banks of clouds, ominously greeted us at our arrival. Like they would be announcing a bad omen that was in the air.

Normally I wouldn’t be faced much by anything when it came to a mission besides the flying part but this time I’d been restless as soon as we were on our way to the destination Santiago had given me when I called him a few days ago.

My gut was screaming at me to not do it, to turn as fast as we could and fly back instead but it was too late and I wouldn’t leave them alone in this. I never backed down from a mission. No matter what. And I’d never forgive myself if I did now.

It had been the first warning.

My team and me nearly got caught in the crossfire of some criminals and the local police on our way to the friendship bridge, the signature element of the Triple Frontier, that connected Paraguay to Brazil over the Parana River.

We were slowly driving through the outskirts of Ciudad del Este, the second largest city of Paraguay and a literal hotspot for any crime imaginable thanks to the Triple Frontier connection, the biggest part being the smuggling of a lot of dangerous things. You could practically see on every corner you turned, that the criminals were ruling this place. My trained eyes spotting them from miles away out of the car window next to me or the guns some people were carrying with them, hidden beneath their clothes in hopes nobody would notice, even if they were way too obvious. Drug dealers selling their stuff openly on the street without a care as if it would be an everyday business. The poorest of the poor together with other citizens weaving through the thick traffic between cars.

You should think we would actually change something with our work but looking at this, I understood what Santiago had meant. Nobody was giving a shit about government or authority here, they had their own laws and the police were only bystanders, not able to do anything and probably not even bothering anymore or corrupt to the core.

Just as we were crossing an intersection, suddenly loud sirens started to blare in the distance and only seconds after a sports car nearly crashed with us when it flew by in high speed, the police following close behind.

“Alex! Watch out!” I shouted from the right backseat when I saw it speeding directly at us.

“Oh fuck!” As fast as he could, Alex hit the brakes. The force of it jolting us forward in our seats as we came to an abrupt stop just enough that the car only lightly grazed our front and didn’t crash into us.

In the middle of the chaos that broke out with people screaming and madly running around and vehicles on the street trying to get out of the way, I saw the windows of the sports car rolling down and persons with assault rifles leaning out of them to shoot at the police car.

“Get down! Put your heads down!” I raised my voice even louder before I heard the first shot being fired and made myself as small as I could.

The bullets were flying everywhere, one piercing through our windshield and almost hitting my shoulder if I hadn’t ducked to the side in my seat.

“Is everyone okay?” Luc asked from the passenger seat in the front and immediately looked over to Alex and then behind to me and Mick in the backseats.

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

The boys breathed out after everything seemed to be back to normal like nothing happened and people resumed their ways. The bullet hole the only reminder of what had just transpired.

“What the fuck is wrong with these people?!” I let out with irritation.

“I think they had a slight disagreement with each other.” Mick commented from the left.

That had been the second warning we ignored.

Stalking like a panther through the thick foliage of the jungle, I moved forward to the spot I was supposed to be and grabbed my TAC-50 that was slung around me as I came closer.

When I looked through my scope, a set of two big, black eyes ogled me and I looked up confused, spotting a little black and white patterned gecko sitting in front of its lens on my sniper.

What the heck?

“Hey there, little guy. You should be careful, you could get yourself hurt.” I said and inspected him curiously.

He held eye contact when his tongue darted out and ran along his mouth before he carefully moved across the upside of my gun, over the scope to its long rear where he laid himself flat on his stomach, his tiny feet spread wide from his body and blinked a few times at me and slightly tilted his head.

“You better get down there.” I told him and slowly moved my hand that wasn’t holding the gun to him.

Without moving he still sat there, not letting me out of sight. After another moment of studying me with his big, round button eyes he got up and came toward my hand. Stopping for a moment right in front to look, before carefully climbing with his sticky, nub-like toes onto it.

He was running all over it, in my palm and between my fingers, stopping at some point and dragging his little pink tongue along my skin.

“Did you… just lick me?” I asked him surprised, staring at the little reptile who didn’t seem bothered by me.

He only looked back innocently before he started to advance up my arm to my shoulder.

“Oh, no, no, little guy! You can’t go there!” I slightly panicked, not wanting him to touch or come close to the part of my body that was forbidden to everyone.

Thankfully he stopped as if he understood what I was saying and changed his direction. Moving over to my other shoulder along my front and looking from there at me once he had reached it.

“Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable, hm?” I asked and held my hand at him again, so I could put him on one of the plants around me, waiting till he was back in my palm.

I let him climb on one of the lianas hanging down in front of me.

“Watch your six, little guy.”

Following his movements along it until he turned upside down and looked back at me before I turned around and continued onward. At least a nice surprise for a change.

Brushing past some large ferns, I made my path through the wilderness with a watchful eye on the ground to not fall over tree roots or for any other kind of danger and made sure to take slow steps to not cause any unnatural movement that potentially could be spotted.

As I reached my spot, I got in position hidden behind a wall of leaves and cocked my sniper to inspect the rest of the area around the house after I had done a full circle of observation.

“I don’t like this.” I spoke into the com I had placed on my in dark and light grey tones camouflaged gear.

“What’s your concern?” Alex’ voice crackled through my earpiece.

“Looks too easy.”

“Did you expect a heavily fortified fortress out here in the middle of a jungle?” Mick asked chuckling.

“Considering the millions of dollars he’s supposed to have and that he’s one of the top tier pieces of shit here, yes, that would be my first expectation if I’m honest.” I retorted while letting my sight wander around through the scope, not spotting much besides some guards hanging around in a few corners with submachine guns strapped to them.

“You aren’t wrong. I estimated with more defense measures too, looking at his profile. But let’s check what we’ve gathered so far.” Luc suggested, wanting to hear what we had detected during our surveillance so he could start thinking about possible tactics at how we would approach this.

“Guards on all sides of the house in groups of two to max three, no protection and armed with SMG’s. Three right, left and rear side, two front, potentially more inside. Lots of spots all around the house where we could easily slip in without a problem except the front. There’s a long, unprotected driveway, ending with a couple of concrete jersey barriers on the sides and a steal gate. Could be breakable with a car I would guess, if you manage to destroy the barrier that comes out of the ground when the gate closes but that would alert everyone, which rules it out as possible option. The only real “danger”, if you wanna call it that, is the machine gun in a sort of tower behind it. 50 caliber, that would shred you before you come even close. I would need help from one of you to take both guards out undetected if we do this the ‘silent way’.” I explained my observation.

“I could give you a hand. There’s a small waterway from my position leading in your direction, would be a matter of seconds to get to you.” Alex confirmed.

“Perfect.” I answered before continuing. “I’ve also seen some surveillance cameras around. We will have to either destroy them when we approach, or we have to look inside the house for a security room to deal with it. They didn’t seem to give a shit about aiming them at the crucial spots, but I would like to take care of them, so we don’t have to worry about it later.”

“They are not looking like the newest ones there are. Don’t wanna know where he got them from, but it will be enough if we take care of the hard drives.” Mick brought in his opinion. His expertise as the best engineer we had in Delta gave us a huge advantage with any tech or gadgets we had to deal with in our missions or other unconventionalities.

“Also, we have high fences extending around the house in a radius of probably twenty to thirty meters. We won’t be able to climb over, but we could cut through them. I’m actually surprised they aren’t charged with electricity.”

“If I were him, I wouldn’t want my kids getting roasted, that’s probably the reason.” He had a point. I had seen them playing outside and some toys laying around but I doubted that it was why.

“The less time we need the better.” Luc pointed out, reminding us that we would have a time window we had to keep in mind once we were in.

“Look what we have here... Someone’s got some little toys.” Mick’s amused voice came through the com again.

“What is it?” The tone he used set off alarm bells in my head. Something was wrong.

“Ground sensors.”

Well, shit.

“The lethal kind?” I inquired with a hint of worry and scoped the area more wary a second time and focused on every detail I could find but spotting none of the mentioned sensors. They must be hidden underneath the plants.

“Hard to say but I don’t wanna find that out.” He answered thoughtfully when he inspected the object on the ground more closely with his trained eyes.

“Any way we can deactivate them?”

“Negative. Not without setting them off.”

“Copy that. Eyes up and on the ground then. Be careful where you’re going.” I spoke sternly, not wanting my team to have an unpleasant encounter that could end potentially deadly and risk the mission before it even started.

The theory with his kids was off the table with that but now we had an explanation why he wasn’t using electricity. Lorea probably thought it would be enough to rely on the sensors and I guessed, he hadn’t even wasted a thought about the possibility of some highly trained and lethal delta force soldiers attacking him or figuring out his location in the first place. Very bad mistake.

But it didn’t make our situation any better, knowing we practically walked around in a minefield. I had to hope the other guys would spot the objects in time and not run into one by accident, not having the possibility to communicate to them what they were about to walk into without revealing myself. They didn’t know we were here and I wanted to keep it this way till we were done with the recce.

“We’ve got company now, boys and girls.” I heard Luc shortly after through my earpiece upon spotting the arrival of the five ex-delta soldiers we had been waiting for. Their timing was just great… note the sarcasm.

“Make sure none of them notices the slightest trace of you and get your comms ready.” I ordered in the serious tone as their captain, wanting to avoid getting detected by any of the boys at all costs.

“Copy.” The three men of my team answered in unison.

I lowered my weapon and slung it back around me with its strap, reaching into a pocket on the backside of my vest and pulling out the com I had requested for me and my team from Santiago, so we could listen their conversation, putting it in my other free ear. They couldn’t hear us unless we used the manual trigger of the mic, which me or my teammates wouldn’t dare to touch and continued to use our own to communicate with each other.

Hearing their line crackling to life, I left my position and disappeared back into the thick foliage.

“So what's this guy got against banks? At least a safe.” Will’s deep voice reached my ears and sent a shudder down my spine that halted my movement for a moment. It felt weird to hear their voices after so long. I needed to get used to them again.

“The house is the safe.” Santiago answered cryptical. What was that supposed to mean?

“Got any idea what he’s talking about?” Alex questioned through our com and spoke out what I was asking myself.

“No clue.”

“Feels like he didn’t tell you everything.” Mick threw in skeptically, emphasizing the most important word in his sentence. Everything. Santiago better didn’t withhold any important information we should have known about before.

Carefully ducking underneath some low hanging branches, the quiet rustling of plants caught my attention and I looked alarmed around. It didn’t come from me but who- or whatever it was that made them was close.

The only thing I saw was a backwards cap in green camouflage moving through the greenery of the jungle and I knew who it was. I stopped dead in my tracks and didn’t dare to breathe or even blink. Ben had no clue I stood directly behind him when he moved by, not more than a thin wall of leaves separating us. His sudden closeness speeding up the beat of my heart in an instant that was pounding loudly in my ears and I prayed he couldn’t hear it. Keep your god damn composure, Y/N! Don’t panic.

Fuck. Did he have a compass which seemed to always lead him to me?

His hand was not a mere inch away and nearly brushed my belly. I’d be so, so fucked if he was able to sense me. Please don’t let him notice. Only this time.

Thump-thump.

After a few beats of him deciding it was a good idea to stop and stand right there in front of me and I thought I’d die from my heart jumping out of my chest, he finally started to walk away and gave me an actual chance to get some desperately needed air into my lungs again. I swear, this man was the death of me, in more ways than one.

This was waaay too close.

My eyes had grown at least double their size as I followed his path till he was out of sight, not making any kind of motion or noise yet for fear he could pick up on it and discover who was here with them.

“I'm at the gate.” I let out a sigh of relief when I heard his still well too familiar rough voice speak through their com that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. If someone would have told me, I’d ever be relieved not having to be near him… Nothing could have been more wrong…

“This looks like everything was done about 82% right. They got all the toys out here, but these cameras aren't even aimed at the weakest breach point.” Ben continued and repeated in his own words what I had observed before, showing clearly why both of us were the experts at reconnaissance.

“Someone’s got some knowledge there too, huh?” Mick indicated, somewhat surprised there was someone else ‘as good as me’ as he would put it, in this field.

We had been the perfect team… And now we were standing on opposite sides.

Deciding to stay silent, I put more distance between us when I was sure he would be far enough away and went with fast but still calculated steps in the other direction. I didn’t want to have another close encounter with him.

“Your girlfriend's making her normal money drop?” Tom’s voice joined in and halted my steps a few meters after once again. What were they talking about now?

“Yeah.” Santiago answered him directly like they were talking about the weather, despite knowing that we could hear their conversation. “She's prepared to record the inside of the house.”

Girlfriend?... Wait a minute…- His so called ‘informant’ was his girlfriend?! And he had the nerve to not tell me before all of this?! He just had dug his own grave.

I was sure my teammates didn’t take this new information any different. I could already imagine how their brows would knit together and their jaws would clench at the revelation.

Santiago had unknowingly managed to turn our team against him before they even had the chance to meet with his move. The fact that none of them felt like speaking up about it told basically everything already. Good luck for him to get out of this.

“Pope...” The person using his callsign was Frankie but it sounded a bit off. Was that concern I heard? What was worrying him? Everything should be fine, I made sure of that before they arrived. Besides… My thoughts went back to the discovery we had made not long ago. Damn it. He didn’t accidentally set off one of the sensors, did he?

“Pope, I have kids over here. Does he have kids living in here with him? 'Cause that's gonna make things a whole lot more complicated and is not what I signed up for.” He shared his discovery over the com and thankfully not confirmed my suspicion but reminded me of what would be another part on my personal task list which I hadn’t wanted to think about yet. If Fish had known what he signed up for… maybe he would’ve had considered his options better.

I continued my way with quick strides through the jungle while I listened, passing by the gate in the distance with enough space to not get noticed and reaching the spot on the left side of the house where I had originally begun my observation round.

“The family's not the problem. They're the answer.” The addressed man replied without the slightest concern. What was it with Santiago and his cryptic sentences?

“Why?” Frankie wasn’t the only person who liked to know.

“Church.” Santiago simply answered. “Lorea's very devout. Every Sunday morning, he sends three guards to the 6 AM service. When they get back, he sends the rest of the team, along with his family, into town to mass. That leaves him and three guards in that house, and that's our window.” He elaborated and I could only shake my head at what I heard. I wouldn’t give them a chance to escape and not finish the mission properly, he could totally forget that. I didn’t care how many guards Lorea had in his house, ten, twenty, it didn’t matter. We would have the army with us too, which would be way enough to wipe them out for good. Not that my team and I could handle it on our own. I didn’t understand why he was making such a fuss about the damn family. There was definitely some business we had to discuss later.

“Why would he do that?” Will inquired, which wasn’t really surprising. He always was someone for details. Too bad he didn’t pay attention to them when he actually should have.

“Worried about someone taking his kids. And he never leaves his money.” These would be the least of his problems very soon…

“Also, I don't think he believes anyone actually has the balls to come out here and rob him.” Santiago added bluntly. That was another way to put it, except ‘rob’ was the wrong word for what we’d be doing. Let me correct, what they’d be doing. My team wouldn’t get involved with the money the guys would confiscate together with the army after we were done. So was the plan. But I didn’t like how he said it and the feeling it caused in my gut.

“It's probably cause it's a stupid idea.” At least Will had some common sense. Yes, it absolutely was. It was the stupidest idea on earth to be exact.

The sound of a car approaching had me drawing my sniper in a flash, holding it steady with both hands and looking out at the driveway through some trees and bushes from my higher position. A black van came into view that slowly approached the barrier at the gate where it stopped. The guard not standing behind the machine gun walked up to the passenger side.

“Pope, I got your girlfriend coming up right now.” Ben announced at the same time.

“Y/N, do you have the safety of your gun on?” Mick joked into the com right after, who had been uncharacteristically silent, already knowing what my reaction would be and wanting to check up on me.

“Maybe I accidentally switched it off.” My voice dropped lower, with an underlying threat behind it my boys were familiar with, while aiming through the scope of my TAC-50 at the woman’s head. It would only take a little pull on the trigger…

I inspected her nearer and got slapped in the face with the bitter truth that I couldn’t compare to her, and it was obvious why Santiago seemed to have a liking in this woman. She looked attractive with her tanned skin, the dark brown, shoulder long, wavy hair and dark eyes. And I bet the rest of her body looked just as good. Something I wouldn’t ever come close to…

“Holy shit. She is beautiful, man.” My blood ran cold at Benny’s next words and something broke inside me. He should have kept his damn mouth shut. The grip on my weapon tightened with my fingers wrapping themselves like snakes around it that were about to choke their victim to death.

Don’t let it get to you. Just ignore all the shit they’re talking. He’s not worth it! None of them are worth it!

“He doesn’t know that the most beautiful woman is already here.” Alex threw in quickly, trying to lessen the damage but he had no clue that what Ben said had fueled my wrath already to a dangerous level. He only tried to lift the situation and make me feel better, knowing about my insecurities that got much worse after what I had been through, but this was something even he couldn’t fix. Only one person could have done that and he wasn’t here anymore… because of me.

Fuck him. Fuck all of them. I wouldn’t give them even the slightest chance to hurt me.

Thank god the van drove past the gate a moment later before I couldn’t resist the temptation to shoot her and the driver anymore. My index finger hovering dangerously close over the small part of the gun that could decide between life and death in a moment’s notice if I wanted.

“I got an execution about to go down over here.” As if sensing my mood for satisfying the craving I felt, Will spoke through their line, adding greatly to the need for shedding blood. Did I hear execution?

“Are you at the tennis courts?” Santiago wanted to know and I looked around if I could see the mentioned place from my position to follow what was happening there but to my disappointment it was out of my sight.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, that's his spot.” He confirmed. Of course Lorea would kill others for his sake, people like him were all the same. He wasn’t the first and surely wouldn’t be the last.

“Anyone have sight on it?” I spoke into the mic, in hopes one of my boys would be close by and could give more detailed information about the situation.

“Positive, I do.” Alex answered while watching Lorea with a guard next to him getting ready to kill the unfortunate souls that were kneeling on the ground with bags over their heads. He had also found the blonde person lurking behind the small brick wall not far from him who must be one of the ex-delta soldiers, watching through the free spaces in between what was about to unfold.

“How many?” I inquired after his response, meaning the number of people the drug lord was about to kill.

“Four.” Too many. I would make sure to pay it equally back to him. He wouldn’t hurt someone ever again after we would be finished with him.

“Man, this guy really takes his business way too serious.” Mick commented with a snort when multiple shots of a gun filled the atmosphere. It wasn’t meant as disrespect toward Lorea’s victims but more his own way to cope with what we had to experience in our job and to not let it get to him. The complete opposite of me.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

“One more reason to get rid of him.” The grip on my sniper hardened even more at the thought of how many people had died because of him. How many lives he had taken for all the blood money. This guy was practically begging to be killed. A shame I couldn’t do it right now.

“Why is she doing this?” Frankie wondered as he saw the dark-haired woman and a few men getting out of the van and entering Lorea’s house with some bags, bringing their line back to life after it went silent for the time of the execution, everyone probably listening the sound of bullets delivering death and leaving nothing but corpses behind.

“She hopes I can get her little brother out of jail.” As if it hadn’t been enough to hear that she was his ‘girlfriend’ but to also find out she was doing this for Santiago to get her brother back on top of it… This was the culmination of it all. How did he even wanted to do that? If her brother was involved with Lorea, there was no way he could get him out legally. Or was he simply playing her so she agreed to help him? Like he tried with me also with leaving out what I heard since they arrived? He had chosen the wrong person.

“Tell me he isn’t fucking serious?!” Our engineer let out in vexation, being careful to not speak too loud and give himself away to the person with a cap he had in sight while he looked over the entrance area of the house where the van had stopped not a minute ago.

“I guess he ‘forgot’ to mention those little details, right?” Alex was just as pissed off, the kind where he questioned himself if he should shoot first and ask questions later or the other way round.

“He should pray I won’t find him right now.” Mick threatened afterwards, directly voicing out what his Spanish brother had hidden behind his words.

“You should give him a chance to explain himself and not make any assumptions already.” Luc spoke up, surprising us with his calmness and how he wasn’t on the side of his brothers. Sitting still on his spot on the other side of the house and following the guards’ movements while also keeping a careful eye on two of the ex-delta soldiers laying on top the massive concrete wall underneath some plants.

“What the fuck, man?! How can you defend him?! There is no god damn room for assumptions because everything is fucking clear! We need to have a talk after this!” His friend shot back with a growl.

It would be an exhausting drive back… Releasing some air and not wanting to take part in their conversation to fuel the tension that already had manifested itself with my own emotions, I focused back on the other boys.

“Did you put him in jail?” I heard Ben asking the most obvious question, silencing and distracting my three men from their heated discussion. I wouldn’t be surprised at this point if Santiago did.

“Not really.” There we go. So he had something to do with it. He might be able to fool the others but not me.

“I'm guessing that's putting her at some risk.” Tom pointed out and a sarcastic chuckle left me. It was putting her at the risk of vanishing from the face of this earth as soon as I got my hands on her.

“Man, I almost forgot why I got out of this business. Shit gets so dark so quick.” Frankie shared his thoughts, not knowing how true his words actually were and hitting the nail on the head. Explaining why I was as I was and bringing back painful memories. Nothing would come close to what I had to experience.

My knuckles turned white from the force I was gripping my weapon with now, teeth grinding hard against each other and shutting my eyes to force the unwelcomed thoughts away before they had a chance to get through.

Keep breathing slowly. You’re not going back to that place. You’re over it.

“Oh, shit, we got ground sensors here, boys.” Benny suddenly announced alarmed over their com when he found himself near the dangerous little object that blocked his way.

“Did you hit one?” As soon as Santiago had asked his question, my focus completely relied on them, tensely waiting for an answer and cursing under my breath that of course it had to be him out of the five to get himself into this situation.

“I don't know, I'm not sure.” With concern heavy in his voice and face Ben answered, uncertain if he had activated it or not and quickly taking a look around to check if he had been detected but everything seemed normal until Fish’s warning hit his ears.

“Benny, I got two guys on motorbikes coming your way.” He informed the younger Miller when he watched them speeding down the driveway in the direction of the gate where Ben was crouching deeper into the bushes covering him.

The urge to eliminate the enemy grew with every passing second and I considered starting the mission early. They wouldn’t get anywhere near him. I wouldn’t allow it. They’d be dead before they knew it.

With him already in my sight from my place across, I switched off the safety of my sniper once again. Making sure he was unharmed and nobody would come too close to him and discover where he was hiding.

Will left his position right after, following back the way he came through the small waterway around the area toward his little brother.

“Hold tight, Benny. I'm trying to get out there to cover you.” He told him, the protectiveness as his big brother coming to the surface. Moving as fast as he could till he got in position behind a small tree on the opposite side of the gate and aiming his pistol underneath its branches toward the newly arrived guards.

I shifted my view to the gate when I heard the sound of motorbikes approaching, noticing Will at the edge of my scope. Shutting out everything to not get distracted from the threat at hand and taking in controlled breaths to keep the heavy weapon steady while looking at the guys getting off their bikes, ready to shoot at any wrong movement or getting closer to Ben’s position.

“A stock boy job at Walmart's starting to look pretty good right now, boys.” It wouldn’t be Ben if he didn’t make one of his comments in his current situation, holding his pistol low but ready to use if needed. He was unaware that me and his brother had him covered from both sides of the gate and nobody would have an actual chance to harm or get to him without being killed. It kind of was like a déjà vu.

For a long moment they stood there, talking to the other guards. Thankfully not showing any signs that they were alarmed or actively searching for Ben. With a wave of a hand from one of them they got on their motorbikes again and drove back where they came from.

“I'm clear. They're coming back to you.” Ben confirmed to Frankie and watched them retreating, putting the gun back in the waistband of his jeans and relieving all of us with his words.

“Let's get the fuck outta here.” Will ordered into their com, keeping his hand weapon aimed on the men until they were out of sight. He had seen enough and didn’t want to push their luck any further, it had already been a close call with his brother and there was no reason to risk another encounter. The intel they had gathered should be enough to make a plan.

“Two retreating on my position.” I informed my team, watching both Miller brothers leave and disappearing into the jungle. Lowering my sniper and allowing my muscles to loosen up after I made sure my surroundings were safe.

“Positive, two as well here.” Luc responded first.

“Affirmative. One on me.” His friend Mick validating the same after.

“That’s all of ‘em. Alex, you clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Copy. If y’all are, I’ll meet you at the car. Be careful out there, boys.” I instructed before heading to where we had parked and took the earpieces out. Not looking forward to what awaited me…

35 Minutes later, 6:18 PM, Brazil

A bump in the road we were driving along woke me rudely from my nap when my front made contact with the car door to my right side I had leant to in my sleep. Startling me awake with the force of the impact.

A very faint “Sorry!” rang through the car.

“Can’t you drive more careful? If you continue like this, you gonna wake her up!” Alex complained annoyed from the left backseat, taking a look beside him in the dark of the car to ensure their girl was getting some much-needed sleep.

“I’m very obviously trying my best here. It’s not my fault this road is absolute shit. How is someone supposed to drive safe here anyway?” Mick complained back and shot his friend a glare through the rearview mirror before looking back at the road and giving Luc a glance on the way in the passenger seat.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere, you won’t find any better ways out here. I’m afraid this is the best we can get, gentlemen.” Luc declared with a chuckle.

“Still was a mistake to let him drive.” Alex grumbled lowly, not agreeing with the choice they had made earlier because he had enough experience with his recklessness at times. Especially with driving.

“If you think you can do it better, go ahead, pen-, pem-? Whatever you call asshole in Spanish.” Mick challenged him, struggling to find the word he was looking for because his knowledge of his friends’ second language was very limited or rather nonexistent and slowing their vehicle.

“It’s called pen-de-jo, dumbass. And we all know I’m a better driver than you.”

“Who almost caused an accident when we came here? Hm?”

“Seriously?! It wasn’t my fault some crazy people were having a fucking chase with the police!”

“Whatever you say, bud.”

“If you keep going like this and not lower your volume, it won’t be the movement of the car who’ll wake her up.” Luc clarified, sending a look their ways that didn’t require any further words.

With a slight groan I came to and opened my eyes slowly, noticing the lack of daylight.

“Great job, Mick. Look what you’ve done! You woke her up!”

“It certainly wasn’t me!”

With an eyeroll Alex shifted his head in my direction and gave me a smile.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He greeted me softly, his hand searching mine and giving me a light squeeze while caressing the back of it with his thumb. A ritual my boys always did when we were out on a mission, to assure me I was safe and in the present while I was waking up out of my half sleep.

“Hey. What’s… happening?” I answered groggily and looked at him with barely opened eyes, giving a squeeze back.

“Nothing you have to worry about. You okay?” He asked, letting me take my time to get more conscious and inspecting me.

“Mhm. As best as I can be.” I saw it in his eyes when I nodded at him that it wasn’t the answer he’d been waiting for, even if he did an excellent job at not showing any changes in his facial expression and maintaining the smile on his lips for my sake. Giving me a final caress with a bit more pressure before retreating his hand.

“Welcome back.” Mick’s cheerful voice broke our moment and my sight went to the front of the car. Realizing night had settled in with the headlights illuminating the earthy path ahead and the instruments inside being our only light source, now that I was more awake.

“How was your little nap?” Luc turned around in his seat to face me.

“You know how it was.” I told him right away, every person in the car aware of the fact that my sleep was screwed for good with permanently fearing to have another nightmare yet again when I allowed myself to rest. But of course it didn’t keep them from asking anyway.

“Sorry by the way if we woke you.” Came it from the driver’s seat, a brief side eye meeting mine while Mick took one hand off the steering wheel and rubbed the back of his head in a guilty manner.

“You didn’t.” I assured, not wanting him to feel responsible for something he wasn’t the reason of.

“And for earlier… I didn’t mean to be an ass.” He added more quietly, exchanging another look with me, the memory of our “chat” before the drive in his mind that hadn’t gone like probably all of us had intended it to. But on the other hand, they had gotten a chance to release some steam and cool off which mattered the most for me, not blaming them at all about their complaints and voicing them out loud. Taking in every last word and feeding the side of me that lived from it, that didn’t know anything else and used what I bottled up within me as its catalyst to cause the fatal havoc it was meant to do. To make the world burn for what had been done.

“There’s nothing you’d have to apologize for, Mick. And aren’t you an ass all the time? At least to Alex?” I tried to lighten the mood and draw the attention away from me.

“Whoa! Now that’s just cruel, Y/N! You can’t say something like that when I just apologized!” Our driver let out in his usual overdramatic way, going along with it. Making his friends laugh heartfully, mostly about his reaction but also my words. The joyful sound wrapping around us like a comfortable, warm blanket in the winter. Only that its warmth wasn’t enough to reach my cold, dead soul. It would never be enough to bring it back to life ever again.

Another precious moment between us I should enjoy but couldn’t, with the inability to feel the same happiness as them - or any at all. Faking a small smile to not ruin the entire situation because I didn’t want them to have to deal with me more than they already had to, like the constant loneliness I felt even if they were always around me.

“Totally deserved.” The Spanish man next to me nodded in agreement and fixated his brother in front of him with a wide smirk.

“Keep going and I throw you out of this car myself, then you can see for yourself how you get there.” A finger pointed in his direction as a warning sign before Mick had to focus on driving again and put his hand back on the steering wheel.

“Why do I have the feeling I missed something important?” I asked in confusion, suspecting there was more to their talk than I knew and switching my sight between the boys.

“Oh trust me, you didn’t miss anything, Y/N.” Luc laughed to himself, the other two starting to snicker along him.

“Okay…?” Coming across my lips in more a question than a normal pronunciation. Despite my curiosity I decided to not dig further and leave it at that. It was probably just another banter of theirs like usual. Looking a last time between them before I shifted my view out the window into the night and silence falling over us with only the faint tune from the radio playing in the background.

A few miles later when I couldn’t stand the quietness anymore, I leaned forward in my seat over the center console as far as my seatbelt allowed it and grabbed the inner edges of the front seats with my hands.

“How long till we’re there?” My nervosity getting the best of me because the previous silence grew too loud for my head and I couldn’t keep the thoughts in it no longer from running wild, threatening to overwhelm me.

“We still have a bit to go. You can take another nap if you want.” Luc answered and looked over to me from the side.

“I’m not tired.” I quickly refused his suggestion, as everyone expected, because it had become a common thing over the last 2 years and they were used to it by now.

“Y/N… Then at least try to get a bit more rest, please. You know-” He tried to reason like a parent with their child who was too stubborn to follow their instruction, but I interrupted him before he could finish what I had to hear too many times already: “You know he wouldn't want you to put yourself in danger.”. Who the fuck cares?

“I don’t wanna hear it.” A well-meant advice to drop what he was going to say.

I had decided to walk this path with no looking back till the end, whenever that would be. There was nothing waiting for me anyway. It was like I had been stuck somewhere along the way and got lost in search for something I had known once but wouldn’t find again, left alone in the shadows with nothing more than misery, sadness and deafening silence as my companions, the only remains of a life before that had stopped existing.

With a heavy sigh I sat back in my seat and busied myself with the sight out the windshield, not wanting to continue the conversation we’d had so many times before like the words he wanted to use.

“Can we not-” I instantly stopped midsentence when I saw a hooded figure appear out of nowhere in the shine of the headlights that stood on the side of the road, directly facing us.

I wasn’t sure what it was but the feeling hitting me in this very moment I couldn’t place - something both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time - had me sitting up straight immediately.

“Mick, stop the car! Stop the car!! Now!” I yelled when we drove past it, my eyes glued to where the figure had disappeared behind us in the night and hands pressed hard against the glass. Startling the boys with my sudden change and the urgency in my voice.

“What? Why? Did I hit an animal or somethin’?” He asked as confused as his brothers, all looking at me now with big question marks in their faces.

“Just stop it already!” I urged impatiently, not caring to elaborate and wanting to get out as fast as possible.

“I’m on it! What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

Before they got an answer, I was out as soon as we came to a stop in the middle of the road with only the person I saw in mind and ran back through the dark to where I had seen it. Shouts of my name erupting from behind me when the three quickly followed and ran after me.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” My raised voice filled the night, loud enough to be heard for a few meters distance but I got no answer or any sign that somebody was there.

“I know you are! Come out and show yourself! I won’t hurt you, I promise!” After nothing happened and I didn’t want to wait any longer I spoke up again, opting for a different way to get the person to reveal itself but it turned out the same as my first attempt. Looking in every possible direction in hopes of finding what I was searching for.

Multiple cones of flashlights lighting up my surroundings more and more from behind announced my team’s approach very soon after but I was too focused to pay them any mind for now.

With hands crossed over each other, raised pistol in one and a flashlight in the other held next to it, how they had been trained to, so they could shoot at any possible threat lurking out there while still being able to see, they closed the distance between us with fast steps and in their tactical formation with Alex on the left side, Luc in the middle and Mick on the right to cover as much ground as possible.

“Can you tell me what the hell this is all about?” Taking in a defensive stance, Mick came to a stand next to me and let his eyes roam around to make sure no danger was in sight before they landed on me, displaying his obvious discontentment about my careless action.

“They were here.” I answered without looking away from the spot I had been staring at, still clinging on to the false hope of the person showing up.

“Who?” He questioned confused, not understanding what I meant and being more concerned about my safety since I wasn’t wearing a bulletproof vest or a weapon.

“The Person. They were right here.” Repeating my words, assuming he would catch on, I tore my gaze away and toward him. Noticing Luc and Alex next to us and the handguns they carried with them. “And put your guns down.”

“Well, I don’t see anyone. Are you sure?” Taking another attentive glance around at my words, he followed my instruction and lowered his pistol slowly after he spotted nothing but grass.

“What Person?” Alex asked from the other side while doing the same as his brothers and loosened his stiff posture.

“That stood on the side of the road looking at us.” I elaborated a last time with slight agitation, not getting why they asked all these unnecessary questions when they must have seen the person too.

Luc, Mick and Alex exchanged a troubled look with each other.

“There wasn’t anyone.” Luc said after a short pause.

“But…- No…- They were standing right here…! I swear!” Denying his words and pointing at where the person had stood, I took a few steps forward, letting my sight wander through the dark once more and staring at the earthy ground in front of me in total disbelieve after I still found no evidence that someone had been here only minutes ago. This couldn’t be true… I knew what I saw… I wasn’t making it up…

“Hey, we believe you, okay? If you say you saw someone, you did.” Alex assured, stepping before me and searching my eyes. The other two not wasting time and appearing at my sides, forming a half circle.

“How did they look like?” Luc changed the direction of our conversation, deeming it a good choice to distract me from the thoughts he practically could see swarming my head and make sense of what I was saying.

“Their… clothes were all black… with a hood over the head. And… the lower half of the face… was covered with a black mask.” I stuttered out. “I know how this sounds but I swear to you I didn’t imagine it!” Seeking the boys’ eyes for reassurance that I wasn’t going mad and my mind didn’t make up things that weren’t there when I just had literally described what we normally wore on our missions.

But it was hard to miss the doubt in them which hurt me more than I wanted to admit to myself when I realized my mistake, not allowing my expression to show I had noticed and quickly cutting off our line of sight to avoid getting more upset and revealing my emotions. I shouldn’t have told them.

“Did you notice anything else? Or were you able to identify the person?” A vertical shake of my head was all I gave Luc, feeling a surge of rage rush up that I didn’t pay closer attention to the person’s face, so I would have known who it was and if they were real but everything had happened too fast and caught me right off guard.

“What’s the plan here then? Are we going for a search?” Mick wanted to know, switching from expectantly looking between us four and checking our surroundings from time to time.

“I don’t see any footprints but if somebody was here they couldn’t have gone too far.” Our Spanish man moved his light around, emphasizing he wasn’t completely dismissing it. His way of telling me he didn’t think I was crazy.

“We surely would have noticed anyone by now - and I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” Coming up with the fact none of us could dismiss, Luc stepped into his role amongst our team and I could feel his observing gaze that hadn’t left me since his arrival. He noticeably changed the pitch of his voice while adding his own assurance into the sentence - a smart move, to ensure I would be listening. “But we won’t find much in this high grass with only our flashlights at this time of day. Also don’t forget we still have a good few miles to go and I doubt we wanna be too late.”

“As much as I agree with you, but I’m not comfortable leaving without knowing if we’re being followed-”

“Luc’s right. It doesn’t make sense to try and find someone in the middle of the night, Alex. And I said we’d be there.” I countered him with a defeated sigh, not having the nerves to argue with my boys about the actual existence of the person but wanting to ease at least his worry that was an ever constant of the trio below the surface since certain things had happened all of them never fully recovered from and wouldn’t. Another thing I was the reason of.

“I mean it won’t do any harm if we take a quick look, right? I’d feel better if we do. And let’s be honest here, none of us gives a damn about being late.” Mick suggested, not passing the opportunity to add one of his blunt comments.

“It’s just a waste of time, forget it. Let’s go and get this over with as fast as possible.” To make this decision wasn’t easy for me but it was the most rational in the current moment. Swallowing down my increasing anger. If things continued like this, I would need an outlet soon because I could only hold it in for so long until I had to release it.

Casting my view for a moment toward the sky in hopes of finding some relief, my mood dropped further when I saw nothing but clouds plunging the stars in their darkness to snuff out their light, like they were foreshadowing what was to come. Not deeming me worthy of the only thing bringing me some little kind of comfort for what I was about to do.

Averting my eyes, I turned around and started to walk back to the car.

“Wait! Y/N!” Alex tried to stop me and was hot on my heels.

“I already told you we’re not searching!” I let out angrily and sped up my steps.

“I swear to god, this woman…” Mick huffed out quietly before he and Luc got moving too, earning an amused snort paired with a smirk from his brother next to him.

“That’s why we love her.” He patted him a few times on the shoulder. “And you wouldn’t want it any differently.” Luc added after a short distance without looking back, following their captain and Alex who was making some gestures with his hands and arms on her side only to be ignored.

“I hate when he’s right…” The last member of the team started to catch up in a sprint.

From afar a hooded figure in black was watching them…

If I had at least understood my third and final warning.

A/N: I want to thank every single one of you who gave this story a chance in the last year and supported it so far, no matter if it was through a like, a lovely comment or a reblog! Each one means the world to me and is greatly appreciated and a huge motivator, regardless how small it is! And I hope I can continue to bring you more enjoyment in the future with it! ❤️

You can definitely look forward to the ultimate clash that's bound to happen which we are approaching with careful steps! Maybe in the next chapter already? 😱

If you enjoyed feel free to reblog, like and comment! 🥰

Masterlist

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#benny miller #benny miller x reader #will miller #william miller x reader #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #garrett hedlund #charlie hunnam #oscar isaac #pedro pascal #IGotYourSix

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faroreskiss · 8 months

Note

Heya bestie, hope you feel better soon, life can be a bitch sometimes *pats your head*

Since you want angsty requests, mind if I requested a scenario of Link/Zelda (either of them) x reader where reader gets... idk fucking killed or gravely injured? Not sure if this makes you uncomfortable or if it's too much for you, if it is just ignore it.

(Tbh I'm not feeling too hot mentally, either lol, nothing like angst for these moments)

Hi Nova, thank you <3 *becomes smol under your hand*

Hopefully it will also work out for you!!! *hugs*

I'm just whipping it up and leaving it here raw, to get back to it at a later point (hopefully).

Can you guess the pairing and where this came from before the name pops up? Don't look at the tags yet! 😏

Acceptance of the waves

CW: Raw non proof read text, angst, possibly no comfort, not nsfw but mature content, mention of death

She would have to accept it at some point, she had to truly understand what happened. She couldn't go on with life otherwise.

Alas, there was no time for deliberations.

With pain in her heart as she watched the castle blow up, spikes of grief stabbing her insides for reasons unknown to her within the swirling chaos of her emotions, she fought.

She didn't want to feel now, she forced herself to focus, as she held the sword that seals the darkness. Oh the irony, could the sword also be the bane to the darkness in her heart now?

Ganon was no more. But at what cost?

As she mourned silently and bitterly, she imagined carrying your unblemished and limp, now soulles vessel, at least to a grave. But there wasn't even a body left to say goodbye now, was there? Did that mean she could see you again? Maybe you were okay?

No.

Moments following the battle's end, the hero was barely able to stand, knees weak. She begged to Princess Zelda, she begged her to get you back, to do something. The princess just looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

She pleaded to the Goddesses, she pleaded to Hylia, silently in her heart. She would pray to any deity to see you.

Then, over in the distance, she saw a hue of light. The light spirits were gathering, spreading their warm light towards her. She saw a little dark speck within the hue of light. A gestalt of a body...?

Once she realized it was you, she started running towards the light, despite her injuries. Despite how it hurt just to take a step. A glimmer of hope and the rush of adrenaline, air burning in her lungs. There was a tint of uncertainity, but the hope was too strong. She kept running, she was almost there, her smile covering her face, her eyes watery. Tears stinging the scars in her face. But she didn't care as she exploded with joy.

She had to see you, she had to taste your lips and finally tell you how much she felt for you, all her feelings. She had to say goodbye to you properl—

Goodbye?

Wait, why would she want to do that? Just moments ago you were fighting together. Covering each other.

Then...

Then she remembered.

She remembered how you got struck by one of the swords that were thrown off at you, as you protected her with your body.

-----

"You know, I'll have your back, always" you had told her only a day ago, before you stormed the castle. You had that playful glint in your eyes. She had just scoffed at you, before she smirked back. There would be some 'talk' to have after you guys were back. She had had promised herself to finally open up to you.

-----

She remembered the enraged state she was in as she defeated the beast in the throne room. How she was transported away by Zelda's magic, to the outside of the castle. How she defeated Ganon with the arrows of light, then seeing the castle blow up.

Nobody could survive that.

-----

She woke up in sweat and tears once again.

Grief comes in waves, they said. The frequency of how it hits you is the only thing that changes. You just try to live your life for another day, and then another.

She would have to accept that you were truly gone, at some point.

Even if it meant being haunted and tortured with the memory of almost getting you back, even if just to say goodbye. Even if just to say she loved you.

Linke was even denied that.

But she would have to accept, otherwise life could not go on.

Closure was a luxury that was sometimes denied, after all, she remarked to herself as she kept silently sobbing to her pillow, a case made out of a tunic of yours.

#farie answers #linke x reader #fem!link x reader #fanfic request #ALL HAIL LINKE #this is just a ripoff from the actual linke fic i had in the drafts #so i cheated a bit #legend of zelda #link x reader #queer #wlw fic

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penmansparadise · 2 years

Text

Eddie Munson ~ Confessions

*I DON’T OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNER*

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Mild language. S4 spoilers.

a/n: This was requested from my Wattpad. I really enjoyed writing this one! I kind of took liberty with the storyline to create this, so hopefully, you all don't mind. Let's just ignore the word count too, yall because I got a little carried away lol. Anyway, I mentioned Led Zepplin in this one, a band I haven't mentioned before, but I'm sure everyone knows. I love love love them. What's your favorite song by them? Mine is D'yer Mak'er! I hope that everyone enjoys this one! As always, thank you for the support! My next post will be a Fred one shot, so be ready for that!!

The sound of branches breaking and leaves crunching under shoes filled your ears. You never thought you’d be in this situation. Avoiding the cops and chasing after monsters from another dimension with your best friend and longtime crush, Eddie Munson. But there you were, walking through the woods of Hawkins in the dead of night, toward God knows what, with some of your old classmates and a bunch of kids. Why? To help clear Eddie’s name and save Max. Navigating through the dark woods, you realized what people finally meant when they said love makes you do stupid things.

You met Eddie when you were kids. You lived in the Forrest Hills Trailer Park, and for the longest time, you were the only child there. But, one warm summer day, Mr. Munson drove up, and when he got out of his vehicle, he wasn’t alone. A little boy with a buzz cut hopped out of the backseat with a small suitcase. For weeks, you would sit at the playground across from his house, waiting for him to come out. Just when you were about to lose hope, he exited the front door and approached you as you sat on the see-saw. Without even saying anything, he got on the other end, and the two of you started taking turns sending the other into the air. That was the beginning of your friendship.

It wasn’t until around middle school that your platonic feelings started blossoming into something more. Eddie started to grow his hair out, and his uncle gifted him a beautiful maroon BC Rich Warlock NJ. You couldn’t count the number of times you just sat in his room watching him slave away, learning song after song. It was during those little moments when your heart began jumping in your chest when Eddie would send you little shy smiles. You tried to control your twisting stomach and the goosebumps that pricked your skin every time he would look at you through hooded eyes, but it was too late. You were in love with him.

For the longest time, people just assumed you two were already dating. You already spent most of your time together and knew everything about one another. There were numerous occasions when Eddie would leave lingering touches on your waist and hands. And you couldn’t count the times you spent nights together, laid up under the same blanket in his bed. So, when people would say anything about the two of you dating, Eddie never corrected them. He would just chuckle as a crimson tint blossomed on his cheeks. But he still never explicitly expressed how he felt toward you, so you were left to think he didn’t reciprocate anything.

Fast forward, and your feelings had only grown. You hoped Eddie shared the same sentiments, but he never made a move. And the night that everything went to shit, you watched as Chrissy hopped out of his van and waltzed into his trailer. You didn’t know that night that your and Eddie’s lives were going to be completely dismantled. When it came out that Chrissy was found dead in Eddie’s trailer, you were his first and biggest defender. You knew that he would never do what everyone said he had done. And your thoughts were only solidified when Max confided in you that she believed Eddie wasn’t guilty either. She took you to Dustin’s house, and that is where you learned about the Upside Down.

Dustin spent as little time as possible explaining everything to you before rushing off to find Eddie. Even though you were extremely skeptical, you followed in suit. You followed Dustin to Family Video, where you ended up in Steve Harrington’s car with Robin, Max, and Dustin, driving toward a guy named Rick Lipton’s secluded home. When you got to the house and found Eddie hiding in the boathouse, you were beyond happy. But when he described what happened, your skepticism toward Dustin faded away. There was actually a monster out there.

After you left him, you and everyone else believed Eddie would be safe. No one would suspect “Reefer Rick’s” house. It was off the beaten path, and he wouldn’t leave. You had decided that you were going to help destroy Vecna to help clear Eddie’s name and save Max. All Eddie had to do was lay low until you all figured it out. But when you all pulled up to Rick’s house the following day and found cop cars and the news station there, your heart dropped. The worst was swarming your mind as you got out of Nancy Wheeler’s car. The cops had found him. Eddie was a goner. He would be arrested and put in prison for the rest of his life, or worse. You couldn’t help the sick feeling that crept into your stomach until Dustin’s walkie-talkie went off, and Eddie’s voice rang through. Before you even had a chance to think about what was happening, you were being shoved back into Nancy’s car and driving off toward Skull Rock.

You all trekked through the woods for what felt like hours until you finally made it to the rock and found Eddie. But it wasn’t long before Dustin was talking about his compass and some sort of magnetic field coming from a gate. You got a quick second to gather yourself before you began following the young boy deeper into the woods. And that’s what led you to where you are now. Doing your best to not fall on your face as you kept pace with Dustin. You could hear the muffled conversations of the others behind you, and you shook your head.

“Dustin, are you sure this is even the right direction? I mean, shouldn’t we be following actual leads and not some hunch you have?”

You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him scoff at your statement.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll clear your little boyfriend’s name, alright?”

You nearly tripped over your feet at his comment. Dustin noticed because you could hear his little chuckle. You cleared your throat and sped up to get back next to him.

“Boyfriend?”

“Eddie?” He raised his eyebrows, “The guy we were just on a wild goose chase after?”

“Oh,” you began, feeling your cheeks warm, “Uh, he’s not my boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

You were grateful for the dark of the night because you knew your face would have given you away had it been daylight. The moonlight peeked through the trees, and you were able to see Dustin roll his eyes.

“No? You could’ve fooled me.”

He took a sharp turn causing you to almost run into a tree. You let out a groan as you picked up your pace again to get next to the boy.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Henderson?”

Dustin suddenly stopped, and this time, you actually bumped into him.

“It means that you two are clearly in love with each other.” He lifted his hands and gave you a dumb look. “Everyone can see it.”

He didn’t wait for you to respond before whipping his compass back out and moving forward. You swallowed the annoyance creeping up and had to jog to catch up to him. When you reached his side again, you crossed your arms and said, “I don’t know what you’re getting at because there’s nothing to even see between Eddie and me.”

Dustin barked out a laugh.

“You’re kidding me, right? Have you seen the way he looks at you? All goo goo eyes and whatnot. It’s gross. And don’t even get me started about him talking about you. He never freaking shuts up.”

He shook his head.

“Y/N gave me this great idea for our next campaign. Oh, Y/N got me this new patch for my vest. Y/N this and Y/N that,” he mocked, moving his hands and raising his voice an octave. Your heart fluttered, and a small smile crept onto your lips.

“Really?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I see the way you look at him too.”

The smile that was on your face fell away, and you went silent. Dustin turned to look at you.

“You’ve never told him how you really feel, have you?”

For a second, you didn’t say anything. There was no way Dustin knew with certainty about your feelings for Eddie. No one knew. They couldn’t because you never told anyone. You cleared your throat again and started to mindlessly play with the hem of your shirt.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I already told you. Eddie and I are just friends.”

Dustin scoffed at your statement. It was evident he didn’t believe a word you were saying, and it was far too late to try and convince him you weren’t lying. He had already made his mind up.

“Would it really be that bad if he knew, though?” He asked. Then he gave a little shrug. “I mean, especially with everything going on?”

You didn’t say anything in return. Instead, you walked in silence the rest of the way until the two of you came up to a small clearing that opened up to Lover’s Lake. It wasn’t long before the others joined you and Nancy stepped in front of you and Dustin.

“There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?”

“Only one way to find out,” Steve said, finding a place next to Nancy and pointing toward a little boat hidden away in the brush.

You didn’t hear the rest of the conversation because, at that moment, a familiar hand landed on your back. Tingles emanated throughout your whole body from that small touch, and you shivered a little. Eddie’s body pressed up against your side as he leaned in and whispered, “You alright?”

Every part of your body was on high alert. You had been close to Eddie before, but he still managed to have this effect on you every time.

“I could be better,” you said with a small smile.

Eddie chuckled softly and nodded.

“Yeah, me too.”

The two of you just stood there for a beat. In the moonlight, he looked angelic, even with his hair frizzy and the sweat beading on his forehead. Your eyes followed every outline of his face, from his brow to his chin. And you couldn’t help but wonder how even in the dark, his deep brown eyes were so captivating. Eddie’s hand gripped the back of your shirt as he stared at you when Steve’s voice broke the silence.

“Hey,” he said, and you and Eddie turned your focus toward him. He, Robin, and Nancy were all three sitting in the little boat. Steve raised his eyebrows.

“You two coming, or what?”

You both shuffled toward the boat. Eddie got in first, then helped you. You were trying to figure out seating arrangements when Dustin approached the small craft.

“Woah,” he said, counting the number of people in the boat, “what about me? This whole thing is my goddamn theory.”

Steve pushed the boat off the shoreline, and Robin shrugged before shouting, “Try and catch the next boat out! “

Dustin flipped her off, but she didn’t care. She and Steve picked up an oar each and started propelling the boat farther and farther away from the shore. There was hardly any room in the boat as you tried to get more comfortable. You were pressed against the edge, with Eddie sitting on your other side. You stood up a little, trying to get a little more space, and were starting to think you should have stayed back with the kids when Eddie’s hands grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto his lap. Your back slammed into his chest, and you could feel his soft curls whisper a touch on your neck as you leaned back into him.

“What are you-”

“It’s fine,” Eddie said, “It’ll be a short ride, and I don’t mind.”

At first, you were stiff, but you soon relaxed into him. His arms wrapped around your waist, crossing in the front before he rested his hands on your thighs. You couldn’t help the way your body reacted to his touch, sending a flurry of butterflies into your stomach. He leaned into you a little, letting his cheek rest on your head, and you shut your eyes. It felt so natural having his arms around you like that. You would give anything to feel him against you like that all the time. A sigh fell from your lips, and you opened your eyes to see Nancy and Steve looking at you and Eddie. You tried not to notice the way they both smiled at the two of you.

Robin and Steve paddled forward for minutes before Nancy finally told them to stop. You all leaned a little closer to see the compass needle spinning erratically. At first, no one moved until Steve started taking his shoes and socks off.

“Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy asked, placing the compass down next to her.

“Someone has to go down there and check this thing out,” Steve said, standing up and pulling his shirt over his head. “Unless one of you four can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years, then it’s gotta be me. No complaints, alright?”

Before any of you could protest, he reached down, grabbed the flashlight, wrapped it in a plastic bag, and jumped into the lake. You peeled yourself off Eddie and moved to look over the edge, watching Steve dive deeper into the lake until all that was left was the rippling water.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” You asked, sitting up and looking at the others. “Is he insane?”

“No,” Robin said, shaking her head and then mumbling, “at least not clinically.”

You quickly turned your attention back to the water. Seconds that felt like minutes ticked by as you stared over the edge waiting for Steve to reemerge. You clenched the edge of the boat, never taking your eyes away from the water. You were starting to think that something was wrong when you saw motion under the surface.

“I see something! I think it’s Steve,” you said, leaning a little farther over the edge. “I’m gonna help him up.”

You reached your hand into the water, waiting for Steve to grab ahold of you. But what met your hand wasn’t Steve. Instead, something slimy wrapped around your wrist until it felt as if the circulation had been cut off. Your stomach dropped, and your heart began to palpate.

“Wait,” you muttered, but before you could get anything else out, you were being pulled overboard.

You were swallowed by the water and plunged into darkness. Screams that couldn’t be heard by anyone but yourself bubbled out of you. Your free hand grasped at the slimy vine that was wrapped around your other wrist, trying and failing to remove it. The sound of your muffled shrieks and whooshing water filled your ears until you were sucked through a gate and fell toward the ground. Suddenly, your screams poured out of you loudly. Your back slammed into the ground, and you opened your eyes to see your surroundings. Black vines like the one attached to your wrist were coiled all around you. The sky looked bruised with streaks of blood-red lightning sporadically making an appearance. Thunder rumbled overhead, mixed with the sounds of animalistic growls and screeches.

Your legs kicked, and you dug your heels into the ground, trying to stop the vine from dragging you any further. But it was no use. You reached your other hand over your head again, struggling to get the vine to release you. With every scratch and grasp you made, it felt as if the grip it had on you tightened. When it finally stopped dragging you, you tried to stand up but got were pulled back down to the ground. Several other black vines slithered toward you, wrapping around your other wrist and ankles, pinning you to the ground. Your cheeks were wet, and you weren’t sure if it was the lake water or the tears streaming down your face. You pulled shallow breaths into your sore lungs as you tried to wiggle out of the vines. When you couldn’t, you let out a shriek.

“Son of a bitch!”

You lay there trying to regain some of your strength when you heard a high-pitched screech. Your eyes flitted around the sky, trying to find where the sound came from, when you saw something flying toward you. Its wings were bat-like with a long tail swinging behind it. At first, it was the only one. But then, several more emerged from the dark clouds.

“Oh, no,” you said as you started to struggle against the vines again, “no, no, no. Please, no.”

You thrashed against the vine’s tight grip and started screaming again. But there was no one there. It was just you and the monsters that were on their way to kill you. Your screams turned into sobs as you watched the bats fly closer and closer. You could make out their tiny mouths filled with dozens of sharp teeth, and you closed your eyes. Tears fell down your cheeks in a steady stream as you waited for the sharp sting of the bat’s bite. Just when their screeches became deafening, you heard a thump and were sprayed with a warm liquid. Your eyes shot open to see the bat smashed next to you, with Eddie and the rest of the group standing above it.

“Hey, babe,” Eddie said before dropping to his knees to start working on the vines trapping you.

Behind him, Nancy, Robin, and Steve began fighting the other bats. The bat’s screeches and cries of pain echoed around you. Eddie grabbed ahold of the vine holding your right hand down and tried to rip it off, but to no avail. He let out a sigh, grabbed the oar next to him, raised it high above his head, then swung it down. The vine writhed for a second before falling still, and your hand was free. Eddie ran around you, doing the same thing for your other hand and ankles until you were completely unrestrained. Once you threw the dead vines off, you scrambled to your knees and crawled into Eddie’s arms. He wrapped you into a tight embrace as you looked around briefly. When you noticed the bats were gone, you burrowed your face into his chest. But you didn’t stay there long before Eddie was pulling you back and taking inventory.

“Are you okay? Let me see. Let me look.”

His hands rubbed over your head and face before going down your arms. Tiny goosebumps pricked your skin as his calloused fingers trailed over your body. You knew you didn’t look it, and you didn’t really feel it either, but you still said, “I’m fine.”

Eddie shook his head, hands holding onto your arms.

“Jesus Christ, come here,” he said, pulling you back into a hug. His face was nestled into your neck, and you could feel his heavy breathing.

“Fuck, Y/N, you could’ve died. I,” he swallowed, “I could’ve lost you.”

He moved back so he could see your face. You placed a hand on his cheek, your thumb drawing tiny circles.

“I’m alright, Eddie.”

I don’t know what I would’ve done if,” he didn’t finish his sentence, dropping his head.

You knew your eyes were bloodshot from crying and your cheeks were tear-stained. You knew your voice was raspy from screaming, and you probably looked like a wet dog. But you still reached forward to lift Eddie’s head to look at you. You brushed Eddie’s damp hair out of his face and said, “It’s okay. I’m good.”

He held your stare for a minute before looking behind him at the others standing a few feet away with their backs to you and him. You could tell they were trying to figure out a way out, but you couldn’t hear them. When you turned your attention back to Eddie, he was already looking at you. He let out a huff and squared his shoulders.

“Okay, I need to tell you something, Y/N, and I want to say it fast because this is about as much privacy as we’re gonna get right now.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“O-okay.”

He ran a hand down his face, letting out another breath before looking back at you.

“Remember when we were kids, and you bought me that guitar pick from the pawn shop after I lost the one Uncle Wayne got me?”

Your mouth fell open, and you titled your head to the side just slightly.

“Eddie, I don’t think this is a good time for a trip down memory lane.”

He shook his head vigorously, and his wet curls slapped him in the face.

“Just,” he held his hand up and shut his eyes briefly, “do you remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. I begged my mom for weeks to give me the money.”

A small smile pricked the corners of his lips.

“And you kept saying it was just good enough until I got Uncle Wayne to buy me a pack of them.”

“Yeah. I remember that. Wayne got you more like the following week, and I never saw the pick I gave you again.”

Eddie nodded.

“I know. Well, I never got rid of it.”

Your back straightened at his statement.

“What?”

He let out a little chuckle.

“I kept it somewhere safe this whole time.”

You watched as he pulled the collar of his shirt down, exposing the top of his chest. Resting against his porcelain skin was the red guitar pick from all those years ago, hanging on a chain. Your lips parted as you reached forward, taking the tiny piece of plastic between your forefinger and thumb. You held it for a second before dropping it and looking back into Eddie’s eyes.

“Remember that one summer you were obsessed with Led Zeppelin?” He asked, “You wouldn’t stop talking about them. Yeah, well, I spent the whole summer learning how to play “Stairway to Heaven” because I wanted to impress you.”

Your heart was running away in your chest, and your whole body was tingling.

“Eddie,” you whispered before trailing off.

He shook his head to stop you from continuing.

“What I’m trying to get at is that you’re important to me, Y/N. And I care about you a lot because,” he dropped his stare, ran a hand through his tangled curls, and let out a huff before finally bringing his eyes back up to yours. “Because I love you, Y/N.”

A rush of butterflies attacked the inside of your stomach, and your heart thrummed in your chest. You had been waiting years for him to say those three words to you. For the longest time, you weren’t even sure he felt the same way you did, and now that he had admitted it, you felt like you were going to explode from joy. Eddie reached out and took one of your hands in his.

“Watching you get dragged into the water and thinking that this crazy demon monster thing killed you made me realize that I can’t lose you.” He dropped your hand and cupped your cheek. You leaned into his touch as if it were second nature.

“I would fight whatever version of Vecna I had to if it meant that you would be safe,” he whispered. “I love you.”

His stare was as sincere as his words. Your whole body felt like it was buzzing as you stared at Eddie. His big doe eyes took in every feature of your face until they landed on your lips. Every part of you wanted him to press his lips onto yours. You didn’t care that you were sitting in an alternate version of the Hawkins you knew so well. You didn’t care that monsters were lurking in the shadows. All you wanted was to kiss the boy you had loved for so long. You wanted to feel the passion and adoration he felt for you. His words weren’t enough.

“I love you too,” you said, your voice so low you weren’t sure he heard you at first. But when his staple wide grin spread across his face, you knew he had. His eyes fell to your lips again, but before he could do anything, Steve shouted.

“Hey, you two ready? We should find some cover before those things decide to come back.”

You couldn’t help the disappointment you felt at being interrupted, but you nodded, nonetheless. When you turned back to Eddie, a playful smirk was playing on his lips. You gave a little pout, but all he did was laugh and plant a kiss on your forehead.

“There’s always later, babe. I can’t kiss you if we’re both dead,” he said before standing up, pulling you with him.

He never let go of your hand as you both followed behind the rest of the group deeper into the darkness. He gave a little squeeze, and you knew you would be okay. You had survived years of agony loving your best friend in silence. Now all you had to do was survive the Upside Down.

Tag List: @violetrainbow412-blog @tellmehows @pastel-abyss-x @lilliandanelle

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fandom

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campingwiththecharmings · 2 years

Text

Love is a Game (For Fools to Play)

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

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

(Un-beta'd)

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mor smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Whatever you want, but you only get seven minutes.”

The thought of having to do “whatever” with a stranger for even one minute makes your stomach turn and you decide that you are not nearly drunk enough for this and reach over and grab the shot in Poe’s hand.

“I was gonna drink that, you know,” he says deadpans, glaring half-heartedly at you.

You shrug and hand him the empty shot glass. “I need it more than you.”

He shrugs and grabs your hand in his. “Come on, we’re in next.”

You sputter as he pulls you along behind him, trying desperately to pull your hand from his grasp.

“What?! No. No, no, no, no, noooo. I do not want to go in next, I don’t want to go in at all.”

He brushes off your protests, tightening his hold on you. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

As soon as he makes it to the circle of people, there’s a spot open and he maneuvers you into it. You momentarily panic, thinking he’s leaving you alone, but then you see him fill an open spot almost directly across from you and relax a little. He smiles at you briefly and raises an eyebrow and you can practically hear him ordering you to ‘have fun.’

The person to your left nudges you with their elbow, drawing your attention to a tray of shots. You sigh in relief and thank them profusely before grabbing the tray and quickly downing a shot. You take another for later and pass the tray along to the next person.

You turn your attention back on the crowd just as someone’s taking their turn. You tense slightly as the bottle spins and you pray to the Maker that it doesn’t land on you. Thankfully, you are spared and it lands on someone sitting closer to Poe. The two rise from the circle and meet in front of a supply closet looking both nervous and excited. Someone opens the door for them and they cross the threshold and wave to their friends watching in the crowd. When the door closes, everyone cheers.

“You gonna drink that?”

You turn to look at the man on your right, who’s pointing at the full shot glass between your fingers. He’s tall and kind of lanky with sandy blonde hair and green eyes. He’s cute enough, you suppose. If you have to kiss a stranger, you wouldn’t mind it being him (though, if you’re honest with yourself, you’d much rather it be a certain pilot…).

“I am, yes. Eventually.” You tell him, smiling serenely at him. “I was gonna hold onto it until it was my turn, but I’m not sure I can wait that long.”

He laughs and gestures somewhere off to his right. “You know you can just get another one, right?”

You look in the direction he’s pointing and see an Abednedo as he fills a tray with shots and sends it out into the crowd.

“Very good to know. Thanks.”

He nods, accepting your thanks, before holding out his hand to you. “I’m Merrick.”

You shake his hand with a smile and tell him your name. You talk briefly and discover that he joined the Resistance only a few months ago and that he’s training to be a medic. You’re about to get into your own story when the door to the closet opens and the cheering resumes, drowning everything else out. You look at each other and laugh before adding your voice to the cheers.

By the time the next person takes their turn, you’re tipsy, but the room isn’t spinning yet and you don’t feel nervous anymore so you call it a win. The bottle stops on the guy beside you (Merrick, right?) and you cheer obnoxiously, clapping along with everyone else (mostly just happy it hadn't landed on you). He and the spinner head to the closet for their allotted seven minutes and the music and chatter resume.

The tray of shots makes it way back to you and you grab one. You catch sight of Poe on the other side of the circle as you pass the tray along. He’s laughing and talking with the person on his left and you ignore the pang of jealousy that you feel. You stare at him for a little longer, trying not to let this ruin your buzz. He catches your gaze after a moment and smiles, but there’s something in his eyes you can’t quite place. Instead of trying to figure it out, you return his smile and raise your drink to him before gulping it down.

The fun continues for what feels like hours, days even, and you’ve had so much alcohol by the time it’s your turn to spin that you can barely see straight (which makes spinning the bottle ten times harder than it should be). You blow your first spin, giggling when you send the bottle flying off into the crowd, much to everyone’s amusement (they’re all just as trashed as you, after all). On your second try, you get it to spin but it barely makes a full rotation and someone in the crowd calls for a respin. On your third try, you manage to make it spin fast enough, and it feels like ages before it finally stops. When it does, you look up to see who it’s landed on and your breath catches.

Familiar brown eyes meet yours on the other side of the circle and you swallow thickly.

Kriffing hell.

Your walk to the closet is a little awkward. Pretty much everyone knows who Poe is, and about half of them also know that the two of you are basically attached at the hip, so this turn of events is probably entertaining the hell out of them.

Everyone cheers when the door opens and suddenly you’re wondering how you managed to find any of this entertaining a few minutes ago…

You enter the closet, Poe trailing behind you. It’s more spacious than you’d anticipated, which you suppose is a good thing. The door shuts with a click and you’re struck by how quiet it suddenly is. It’s dark but you manage to figure out where Poe is with minimal effort. He hasn’t said anything since the bottle landed on him and you wonder if he’s trying not to be sick over the thought of having to kiss you. You don’t really know what to say either so you just let the silence permeate and try not to have a panic attack.

If this had been years ago, before you’d really known him, before the two of you had become almost inseparable, this would probably be one of the greatest moments of your life. But now, faced with the prospect of kissing your best friend when he clearly doesn't want to…you’re worried that your relationship will never recover and you’ll lose one of the most important people in your life.

It feels like it’s been hours, but you know it can’t have been because the door’s still closed, the silence around you almost deafening. You take a deep breath and look where you know he’s standing.

“Guess we should get this over with, huh?” you say awkwardly, thankful that he can’t see you cringe at yourself.

His laugh sounds forced and you can actually hear him run his hand nervously through his hair. “Look, we don't have to do this if you don’t want to. It’s just a dumb game.”

His voice is soft and a little gravely (probably from all the yelling) and you know he means it, but your pride won't let you back down from this.

“No, it’s fine. We’re friends, right? Friends kiss each other all the time.”

He actually laughs at this, and you imagine him shaking his head at you. “Do they?”

You shrug in response before remembering that he can’t see you. “Sure, probably. Somewhere.”

He laughs again and you smile to yourself, suddenly feeling a little braver. “Besides, I'm honestly a little bit curious. I've heard you’re pretty skilled in this area.”

It comes out sounding like a joke, but you’re only half kidding. If you’re honest with yourself, you’ve always wondered if the rumors of his prowess were true.

He says nothing but you hear him shift on his feet, as if he’s uncomfortable. You feel a pang of fear and rush to add, “I’m kidding. Obviously.”

He hums in response but says nothing else and it takes all your willpower not to find him, grab him, and shake him until he says something. Anything.

“Okay,” you try, taking a step in his direction, “how about we just count to three and, ya know…do it.”

“‘Do it?’” he repeats, voice laced with amusement.

You sigh and roll your eyes, even though you know he can’t see you. “Yeah…kiss, or whatever.”

He laughs at you again and suddenly you’re annoyed that he’s clearly very much enjoying your discomfort.

“Could you please elaborate as to what actions fall under ‘whatever?’”

You grunt at him and reach out in the darkness. Your hand comes into contact with what you think is his chest and you push him in retaliation.

“Alright, fine,” he placates, still laughing as he shuffles a little closer to you. “You’re right, let’s just do this and get back to the party.”

“Sounds good,” you reply with a nod to yourself.

“Right. So. Who goes first? Do you kiss me first, or do I kiss you first?”

You huff a laugh and nervously wet your lips. “I don’t think it really matters, Poe.”

“Sure it does. We can’t both move to kiss each other at the same time, we’ll bust a lip.”

Huh. He does kind of have a point. Too bad you can’t flip a coin.

"Alright. On the count of three, we both say a number between one and ten, the highest number initiates the kiss.”

It’s silent for a moment as he considers. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

“Great. Ready? One, two, three.”

You say five. Poe says seven.

Right then, so, Poe’s going to kiss you.

…Poe is going to kiss you.

Shit.

“Alright then. You ready?” He asks, clearing his throat.

“Sure. Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He sniffs a quiet laugh through his nose in response before stepping closer to you. You feel his hand land softly on your shoulder and you furrow your brow in confusion.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

He remains silent as he gingerly feels his way up the side of your neck to cradle your face and your breath catches in your chest.

“Not much light in here. Need a little assistance if I’m gonna have to land blind.”

“My face isn’t a landing strip, Poe."

He snorts, his thumb absently caressing the apple of your cheek. “Noted.”

He’s close now, so close and you’re reminded of earlier that night when he joked about you wanting to kiss him and it’s then that you realize that you do. So much. Suddenly, there’s nothing else in the entire galaxy that you want more right now than for Poe Dameron, your best friend, to kiss you…

And kiss you he does.

His lips are warm, and when they touch yours, your first thought is of how unbelievably soft they are. They slide against yours slowly, almost hesitantly, and your chest aches a little at the sweetness of it. The scent of him is overwhelming, intoxicating, and you wonder, not for the first time, if it’s something he puts on or if it’s just him. After a moment, you remember to move your lips against his, causing him to pause briefly, and you wonder if he expected you to just stand there and let him do all the work.

All thoughts disappear from your head when he continues the kiss, gently angling your head and releasing a breath through his nose as he presses his mouth harder against yours. Your breath stutters in your chest as he pulls your body closer with his free hand, his boots bumping against yours as he slots his foot between them. Heat blossoms in your chest when his tongue lightly traces the seam of your lips and you part them without hesitation. His tongue dips into your mouth to brush against yours and you sigh softly at the sensation. He tastes divine; an intoxicating combination of spice, caf, and alcohol. Your hands, which had been clenched into fists at your sides, move instead to clutch at the fabric of his shirt so you can pull him closer, and you swear you hear him groan when his chest bumps against yours.

You're so lost in the feel of him, in the taste of him, you forget where you are and why you’re even doing this in the first place and, before your lust-fogged brain has a chance to clear, there is a click and door to the closet opens. You both pull away from each other automatically, squinting at the light spilling in from the common room and flinching as the cheers from the crowd fill your ears. As your eyes adjust, you glance at Poe, expecting him to look as wrecked as you feel…except, he doesn’t. Instead, he looks like he always does: cool, collected, and mildly irritated. A little embarrassed, you immediately school your expression to something similar, something unaffected, before he notices.

You both nod awkwardly to the crowd as you exit the closet to return to the party. You start to walk in the direction of the make-shift bar, but stop suddenly when the room spins a little. You grunt and close your eyes at the feeling, Poe steadying you with a hand on your back. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” you assure, ignoring the pleasant heat of his hand through your shirt. “Just a little dizzy. Think I drank too much.”

He’s nodding when you open your eyes again, a teasing smile on his lips. “You definitely did.”

You huff a laugh and bump him with your shoulder. “You’re one to talk.”

“You’re right, we’ve both outdone ourselves tonight,” he agrees with a chuckle. “Let’s get some water and maybe a few snacks. Pretty sure I saw some over here earlier.”

You shake your head when he tries to walk and pull you with him. “Actually, I think I’m just gonna call it a night.”

He looks a little disappointed but you can tell he understands. “Alright, yeah. Let’s go, I’ll walk you back.”

“No, it's okay, I can make it,” you say, trying to sound more sure than you actually feel.

He studies you for a moment before nodding reluctantly. “You sure? I mean, you were all wobbly a couple seconds ago, remember?”

“I’ll be fine,” you assure with a chuckle, “Really. Go, have fun.”

“Not sure how much more fun I can take at this point but, since you’re the one asking, I’ll give it a try.”

You smile and move to walk away. “Night, Poe.”

“Night. Make sure you drink lots of water, and eat something. It’ll help with the dizziness.”

You salute him mockingly and turn away with a laugh. “Yes, sir, Commander.”

As you walk slowly back to your room, all you can think about is your kiss with Poe. About how you wish you could do it again, do it everyday for the rest of your life. A pang of longing slices through your chest and you groan in annoyance, mentally kicking yourself for letting this happen.

Sleep, you tell yourself. Sleep will fix this. It fixes everything.

You manage to make it to your room unscathed and toe off your boots before falling into your bed with a groan, falling asleep the minute your head hits the pillow.

—

You wake a few hours later with a throbbing head and a mouth as dry as the sands of Jakku.

Maker, you’re swearing off alcohol after this.

Or, Jet Juice, at least…

It’s then that you remember Poe’s “orders” to drink water and eat something and you instantly regret not listening to him (not that you’d ever admit that to him). You roll gingerly off of your bed and walk to the sink in the corner. After many, many cups of water, you start to feel slightly more human again. You search for food but can’t find any, and you’re seriously considering running down to the mess hall for some snacks, when you hear a knock at your door.

You pause, confused as to who it could be this early in the morning. Your bunkmate stayed with their partner last night so it likely isn’t for them, and you aren’t expecting anyone…

After a moment of deliberation, you open the door to find Poe. It’s only been a few hours since you saw him, but you can’t help but notice how exhausted he looks.

“Maker, you look as bad as I feel.”

Poe runs a hand through his hair and looks at you with tired eyes. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d check in on you.”

You ignore the warmth that spreads through your chest at his concern and usher him inside without another word, closing the door behind him with a click.

“Shit, I didn’t wake you, did I?” he adds with trepidation, turning abruptly to face you.

It’s early morning, and there isn’t much light filtering in through the small window on the other side of the room just yet, but the lamp on your desk is on and you can more or less make him out despite the dimness.

“No, I was up. Looking for snacks when you knocked, actually.”

He nods absently, chewing on his lip as he silently studies your face. He’s close, so close, and you find yourself trying desperately to push the memory of kissing him just a few hours ago from your thoughts.

“Everything okay?” you ask evenly, resisting the urge to look at his mouth.

He hesitates, throat bobbing as he considers his response. “I’m just…so tired.”

Your brow furrows as he squeezes his eyes shut and looks away from you with a sigh. You can tell he doesn’t just mean the war, that there’s something else there that he isn’t sharing with you. Your mind immediately returns to the kiss and a sharp panic stabs through you. He knows. He knows and he’s struggling with that knowledge–the knowledge that you’re head-over-heels in love with him, that you’ve probably been in love with him since the day you met him.

His eyes meet yours again as you silently panic and his brow furrows. “What is it?”

He’s still close, standing in the doorway between you and the rest of your room. You shake your head as you look away and move to walk past him, but he catches your arms to keep you where you are.

“Uh, uh, don’t run away. Talk to me.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly a desert despite the copious amount of liquid you’ve consumed. You meet his eyes again and inhale slowly, chewing on your bottom lip.

You close your eyes and sigh in resignation. “It’s stupid,” you whisper.

“So what, you say stupid shit all the time.”

You let out a choked laugh and fight back the tears threatening to pool in your eyes. Poe. Solid, wonderful, always-there-for-you Poe. You can’t lose this, lose him. You’d crash and burn and there’d be no one to bring you back.

“Just tell me,” he whispers softly, moving one of his hands to cup your face.

You open your eyes to meet his gaze again, knowing he can probably read everything you don’t want him to know on your face.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asks, his eyes pleading but also…hopeful?

“What, like, in general?” you joke in an attempt to deflect.

He frowns and shoots you a disapproving look. “You know what I mean.”

You swallow thickly and release a breath before responding. “I’m afraid that what happened will ruin our friendship.”

He nods sadly, as if he expected this answer. "Listen to me, okay? Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever change the way I feel about you."

His hand is still on your face, and he's looking at you in a way you've never seen him look at you before and a little flicker of hope starts to burn in your chest.

You nod, giving him a tight smile.

He smiles back, moving to release you and step away, to give you the space you’d been seeking just a moment ago, but you realize suddenly that you don’t want it. You clasp your hand around his wrist to keep it in place, his eyes widening a little in surprise as he searches your face. He must find what he needs there, because his expression morphs quickly from surprised to determined and then he's pressing his lips to yours.

You hesitate for a moment out of surprise, before smiling against his mouth as you kiss him back. He sighs in relief and kisses you harder, as if he's been wanting this, longing for this, just like you have. He cradles your face in his hand and angles your head slightly so he can deepen the kiss. Heat blossoms in your chest as your lips continue to slide against his and your body suddenly feels so hot you think you might combust. When his tongue teases the seam of your lips, it’s your turn to sigh. You part them and allow him entrance, moaning softly at the taste of him. Slowly, you slide your hands up his chest and plunge your fingers into his soft, thick hair. The rings on your fingers catch on his curls as you bury them deeper and he groans softly at each tug.

You'll have to remember that for later.

He pulls back from you suddenly, pressing his forehead to yours, the hand on your face sliding down to rest at the base of your neck as he lets both of you catch your breath. You observe him from beneath your lashes while you wait, chewing your bottom lip as you survey the damage you’ve done to him; he’s flushed, his lips are red and puffy, his hair is a mess, and his eyes…kriffing hell, his eyes–Heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust. This. This is what you had hoped to see before, see him just as wrecked as you.

“You know,” you whisper teasingly, toying with a lock of his hair, “if you wanted to kiss me, baby, all you had to do was ask.”

He laughs and it takes everything in you not to grab him by his collar and immediately pull his mouth back to yours (though, you doubt he’d complain if you did). You know you have to talk about this, talk about what this means, what this is, but all you really want to do right now is keep kissing him.

So you do.

That's all folks, thanks for reading!

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closet scene (Poe’s POV)

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x gn!reader #poe dameron reader insert #my fic

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