#today i choose angst tomorrow who knows | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toruro · 1 year

Text

— ✧ exes and oh's

pairing. choi seungcheol x reader

description. when your ex-best friend breaks up with your other ex-best friend, you’re stuck between keeping this door (that you never wanted closed) shut tight, and making amends. naturally, choosing to let your heart open to the person who ripped it apart isn’t the easiest of decisions, but then again, life has a funny way of making you choose.

tags. smut (18+), UNEDITED (i wrote this mostly when i was half asleep, there will be missing words), angst, oral (f receiving), petnames, past toxic relationships/ friendships, referenced cheating, alcohol consumption (+ mentions of vomiting + poor decisions abt alcohol in general), rebuilding relationships, trust issues, joshua is extremely protective it's honestly a little annoying, a disgusting amount of internal monologue i am So sorry, theres a lot in this one so if i missed anything lmk

fic playlist.

w/c. 15.8k+

a/n. 1K SPECIAL SORRY IT'S A LITTLE LATE...anyways i really tried to make sure this wasn't super corny but i prob got carried away i can't even tell anymore. update. this is cringe as hell

Your day today is slow, like every other. You aren’t sure why you expect anything different—well maybe you do know. It’s the optimist in you, a small voice in your head says, as you drop down your bookbag next to Joshua’s chair, the two of you slipping into your seats. Optimism my ass, you shoot back at yourself.

“Can you cover my shift?” Joshua asks, turning to you on his chair. You two have just finished your econ lecture and are sitting in the library to catch up on notes.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you give him a wary look. “Joshua,” you whine, pulling out your notebook and pen down.

“C’mon you said you needed some extra cash, and I need the night off anyways. I’ll get you back with something,” he promises as you narrow your eyes.

“Now what do you have that makes you need the night off?”

“Well there’s this party—” he pauses when you huff.

“And what’s to say I wouldn’t like to go to this party?” you retort, slightly annoyed that he expects you to cover his shift over something like this.

Joshua signs, running a hand through his hair. “Well I can say that I don’t think you would be especially keen on going,” he tells you honestly, and then when you catch the look in his eyes you falter.

You think about probing further, but second guess yourself—you probably shouldn’t. It isn’t good for your heart. You are trying to work on putting yourself, your heart, first, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat. “Why do you say that?” you ask, and Joshua gives you that look.

He knows where this is going, and he’s slightly disappointed in you for going against your personal goal of not bringing it up. Then again, he doesn’t control you, and while he can try to guide you down the path of reparations and healing, he can’t force you anywhere.

“Cheol’s birthday is tomorrow,” he tells you like you don’t know. Like you don’t still have it marked down in bright blue sharpie on your calendar. It’s only been six months since you’ve last talked to him, and you don’t feel the need to buy a whole new calendar for the sake of getting rid of his and Yejin’s name.

That, and you don’t think taking his name off would help you forget anyways. Ten years, you think to yourself, ten years shouldn’t be disposed of as easily as a calendar, although it seems Yejin and Cheol had no problem doing just that.

Joshua catches you zoning out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No it’s okay,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair. “It’s not like I didn’t know, I don’t know why I asked.” Joshua looks at you sadly.

“The party…it’s going to be a big one, since Soonyoung is throwing it. You can come if you really want, you probably won’t run into Seungcheol anyways,” Joshua offers.

You scrunch up your face, shaking your head. “And Yejin? Either way, I don’t want to even think about how it would look if I showed up to a party for his birthday.”

Joshua gives you a wear look. “You don’t know?”

“Huh? Know what?”

“Cheol and Yejin broke up a while ago.”

“Oh.” You blink once, then twice, staring down at your shoes before inhaling sharply.

“I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

You shrug, responding, “Whatever. Don’t apologize. I don’t have any business with either of them anyways.”

“Okay but—”

“Seriously Josh,” you mutter, turning to him so he can see the pleading look on your face. “Let’s talk about something else, yeah? I’ll cover your shift.” Joshua gives you a tentative look, opening his mouth before you stop him. “Seriously,” you repeat, “It’s fine.”

And the truth is, you are fine. Sure it hurts when you think about them too much, and even if they are broken up, it doesn’t really make you feel much better, but you are okay. Your days are often dull, yes, but you aren’t unhappy. You’re content, and being in your final year of university, you figure that being content is all you need.

Excitement and love are not quite at the forefront of your mind, and while it does cause a nasty knot to build up in your throat when you think about Cheol and Yejin and all the fun times you have spent with them, you quietly tell yourself that things just played out the way they were supposed to.

You tell yourself that if it didn’t work out, it wasn’t meant to work out. That your life had plans, and that those plans didn’t include them.

As you walk home, you scoff to yourself, thinking about how Cheol and Yejin were willing to give up ten years of friendship with you—with each other—for something that didn’t even last half a year.

Of course it’s painful, but at the end of the day, you’re okay with that.

“You’re pathetic,” Yejin spits out, and you feel yourself growing dizzy. Her animosity that’s more apparent than ever is all you can think about it, and it has your jaw going slack. “How could you—” her face contorts into something so full of hate that you brace yourself for her next words, “How could you do this to me?”

You still, blinking as you let the words sink in. You want to argue, to fight back, to defend yourself, but the words fall flat on your tongue. You want to scream, I didn’t do anything to you, want to tell her that your feelings aren’t there to hurt her, but you can’t. “Yejin—”

“It doesn’t even matter now,” she cuts you off, sucking in a sharp breath, her face that was momentarily scrunched up into anger is now relaxing, looking back at the door where music booms from the party.

“Are you just going to leave?” you manage to ask, steading your breaths as best as you can. Yejin looks at you and from the way she’s slightly taller than you, you nearly cower back in anticipation for her next words.

Yejin always did tend to have a bit of a mean streak, but only towards those she felt had wronged her—never to you. Always had a snarky comment to throw, but never in your direction. Always ready to be on the offense if she felt she needed to, and for the first time in your ten years of friendship, you know what it’s like to be on the receiving end.

Yejin never answers your question. “Cheol likes me,” she tells you as if it isn’t obvious. As if you haven’t mulled over that fact for the past month, the tell-tale lips of Joshua spilling you Seungcheol’s secrets many nights before. “He doesn’t like you.” Yejin pauses. “Because you’re boring.”

Your world stills. Everything was spinning in a hazy maze a moment ago but now it all has paused and her words are hitting you in slow motion. “What?” you try to ask but your voice comes out hardly above a whisper.

Yejin scoffs, and you know in this moment that that is the meanest thing she could have done. “You’re boring,” she repeats, “and that’s why—” she takes a deep breath, “—even if he didn’t like me, he wouldn’t like you, so I’m telling you now to give up.”

You gulp, and the words spill out of your mouth before you can stop. “I was never going to make a move on him,” you retort, finally finding the words stuck in your throat, and while you gain confidence for a moment, it withers away when you catch the amused look on Yejin’s face. “I can’t believe you would think I’d go for him if you liked him.”

“That’s your problem!” Yejin exclaims exasperatedly. “You were going to do nothing even if none of us found out,” she spits out, and you feel your knees growing wobbly again as Yejin continues. “You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”

She turns on her heel, and you call out to her one last time. “Are you—”

“Get Joshua to drive you home,” is the last thing she ever says to you.

Taking Joshua’s shift is boring. Not that you expect anything different—getting you excited for work is not one of your optimism’s capabilities. Evenings at the coffee shop are busier than one would expect, but after considering the fact that it’s the only one open past seven p.m. on campus, the crowd begins to make sense.

You spend your time making drinks for the many students who are—much like yourself—simply trying to get through the night, but you would be lying if you say you don’t notice that the turn out is a little…smaller. After all, it is a Friday evening and Soonyoung’s parties are infamous on campus for being…well for being thrown by Soonyoung.

He’ll invite anyone and everyone, so you wouldn’t be surprised if your instagram feed will be filled with nothing but pictures from Cheol’s party tonight. Not that you care. You don’t want to go, you have no reason to.

Still, you wonder: would Yejin show up? If they did break up, like Joshua told you, what were the circumstances? Are they still friends? What happened? Why did they—

No.You shouldn’t do this to yourself, you can’t. Yejin isn’t your friend anymore, and neither is Cheol. What happened between them shouldn’t be your business—it isn’t. Leave it alone, you tell yourself, tapping your foot on the ground.

Yet, every time you look over the empty seats that fill the cafe, you’re reminded of just why not many people are here tonight. Seungcheol. Chewing on your bottom lip, you go against your better judgment and pull out your phone, immediately tapping on instagram.

Your stories are filled with a plethora of videos and pictures from the house that Cheol shares with Jeonghan and some other friends. It’s dark both inside and out, the only thing illuminating the house being led lights and pool lights in the backyard.Fondly, you remember last summer and Cheol’s birthday, which was spent at his house with you. Yejin, and some other friends in his pool from morning ‘til night. Fun times, you think, and you quietly wonder if Cheol will remember those memories today, or if he will leave them in his dust.

Tapping through the stories, you purse your lips together, inhale sharply, and begin to make yourself a drink. It’s too late in the evening for you to be thinking about this.

Seungcheol’s head is pounding. He can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears and then there’s the music that has its vibrations going straight to his heart as he stumbles over his own words.

Lights everywhere flashing different colors and he isn’t sure when one cup turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into fuck-knows-how-many until Jeonghan is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pushing him into an empty room, calling Joshua over.

Again, Seungcheol’s head is pounding. And he fucking loves it.

Joshua and Jeonghan, on the other hand, are frustrated. Cheol is trying to push through them, clawing for the door as his legs hit each other in a mangled mess until he’s falling onto them as they hold him back.

“You guys can’t fucking do this,” he whines, throwing his head back as he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“When you said you were going to go crazy tonight,” Joshua mutters, “I didn’t realize you meant literally. Are fucking insane?” he hisses.

Cheol gives him an angry look, seeming to sober up for a moment as he straightens his back. “It’s my birthday, giving me a fucking break.”

“If you keep acting like this it’s going to be your death day soon too,” Jeonghan warns, earning him a glare.

“Seriously, do you want alcohol poisoning or something?” Joshua agrees. “Don’t drink anything else for the night, I’m serious.”

“And if I do?” Seungcheol challenges.

“We’ll tell Soonyoung to call it all off. You know he’ll do it if we ask,” Jeonghan states simply.

Cheol scoffs, but doesn’t reply, exercising his last bit of common sense to understand what Jeonghan and Joshua say, they mean. He needs to tread lightly.

Not that he cares much. He hasn’t got much to lose—Cheol only suggested this party because he knew that if it was anything short of big, he’d be reminded of the missing holes in his life right now.

His plan was unsuccessful, clearly, because even with cups after cups of spike punch, he’s still mulling over the fact there’s over a hundred people in this house and not a single one of them is you. Cheol had asked Joshua to bring it up with you—asked him to lead you in the right direction. The right direction being him.

He wasn’t really sure what his expectations were when he suggested it, but now it’s clear that Cheol really was expecting you to show up. He didn’t prepare for any other outcome, especially not one like this, where he’s wasted before the clock even strikes twelve. He’s on the verge of passing out when Joshua leaves the room, only Jeonghan and Cheol in each other’s presence as the former makes sure his elder doesn’t collapse.

Seungcheol’s head is pounding and he thinks it feels fucking great.

Fuck, he really needs to throw up.

You’re back at the cafe two days later, once again spending your evening serving students. It’s a bit of a lighter day, so only you and Jeongyeon are working, catching up and making light conversation through the day.

“Tired?” you ask her, when you catch her leaning against the counter with a wince.

She nods, turning up to look at you. “Chemistry is killing me. I want to cry just thinking about my next exam,” whe groans, throwing her head back. “I think humans have evolved too much. There’s no reason we should have explore this much about like, fucking atoms. Why can’t we just be happy creatures—ignorance is bliss, after all.”

You laugh out loud, not bothering to look at the door when you hear the bell of its opening ringing. “Take a break, yeah? I’ll manage for the next half an hour, if you just wanna sit and chill for a bit,” you offer, Jeongyeon letting out a sigh of relief.

“Are you serious?” she exclaims before hugging you tightly. “I fucking love you,” she says, pulling away and hopping down the back counter and to the back room while you smile widely before turning around to face the new customer at the counter.

Your smile drops faster than you can blink.

Seungcheol’s smile, at one time, was among one of your favorite sights on the whole damn planet. Now, you can’t help but turn away, too scared to look him in the eye. Scared that if you look long enough, you’ll find something you aren’t ready to see.

Don’t falter, you tell yourself. You haven’t been healing for months for it to amount to nothing. “What can I get you?” you ask casually, looking down at the cashier tablet, pretending to look through the catalog.

You didn’t look at him long enough to see if his smile vanished just as quickly as yours, to see if he expected you, to know what he was thinking at all honestly. You aren’t ready for that, and it’s pathetic, you think to yourself.

“Uh,” is the first thing you hear Cheol say to you after six months. You aren’t sure what you’re expecting him to follow with, but it is most definitely not, “Don’t you know my usual?”

It takes all your self control to not snap your eyes up and say, of course I know your usual, I never forgot, how could I forget, it’s always an iced latte with—“No, sorry, I don’t,” you say flatly, still not looking at him.

Cheol is slightly surprised by your choice of words, partly because when Joshua told him that your door was shut and not going to budge open, he didn’t really believe him. Maybe he knew he wouldn’t be able to hit it straight off the bat when he tried to reconcile, but he definitely wasn’t expecting this.

Not that he planned this—he knew you worked here, just not when. Cheol was just struck with luck when he walked in, ready to order a coffee when his eyes landed on your familiar figure this evening, and as an opportunist, he just couldn’t turn down the chance to try and talk to you.

Of course now, he isn’t sure if this course of action was the right one—you were never cold, not to him, not to Yejin, not to anyone really. It’s weird, he thinks.

“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup, please,” he replies with a small nod of acceptance. Joshua was right. Your door was locked.

“Your drink will come out over there,” you say, pointing over to the left counter. “Cash or card?”

He thinks it’s worth a shot to try again. “When was the last time I used anything but card?” Cheol accepts defeat when you don’t crack a smile, not even one bit.

“So you’re using card?” you ask plainly, turning the tablet over so he can swipe down. Cheol chuckles nervously as he pulls out his wallet. He doesn’t say anything after that, and for that, you are grateful.

Once he’s done paying, you turn on your heel quickly and make his drink. You don’t look up, don’t turn back—you don’t know if you’re ready to see him watching you, if he is at all. You aren’t sure what you’d like more: having him watching you, or having him not.

Gulping down a hard lump in your throat as you wait to pull the shot of espresso, you think deeply. It’s just how Jeongyeon said it, you figure: ignorance is bliss.

Jeongyeon thinks parties aren’t your thing. “They just don’t suit you,” she explains when you’re working one afternoon.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean not my thing?”

She shrugs, carrying in some boxes of cups. “It’s not a bad thing—I’m not calling you boring or anything—I’m just saying. You’re a very work-at-a-coffee-shop kind of girl, and not a let’s-go-party kind of girl, you know?”

The word bounces around in your mind. Boring.

“I can be both,” you huff. “You’re only saying this because I actually do work at a coffee shop.”

“Whatever,” Jeongyeon shrugs. “Come with me tonight then?”

You scrunch up your face. “Tonight? I work tonight,” you tell her with a frown.

“Get Hyunwoo to cover your shift then, I’m sure he’ll do it,” she suggests. You sigh, pulling out your phone to text your other co-worker.

“Okay, but if he says no it isn’t my fault.”

“Ya-da, ya-da, ya-da,” Jeongyeon mutters, waving her hand at you with a sly grin. “So I’ll see you tonight?” he asks with an eyebrow raised.

“If Hyunwoo is willing to give up his Saturday evening, I guess so.”

“Ugh, he better agree. Tell him if he does it, I’ll set him up on a date with Nayeon.”

You roll your eyes with a small giggle. “You need to stop using her to get what you want—she’s going to stop being your friend if you keep setting her up on dates so people can do you favors.”

“If that ends up happening…” Jeongyeon’s voice trails off as she glances at you. “…well that’s what you’re here for!”

It’s how you end up putting on some cute pants and black crop top that you’ve been saving for a night just like. Jeongyeon and you are ubering the way to whoever’s house this party is at, and you’re pretty sure neither of you have a good idea of how you’re supposed to get home, but that’s a problem for another time.

When you arrive, the house is already packed, but the two of you don’t have too much trouble slipping through the open door and into the crowd of people that fill each room. You haven’t been to a party in a while, and the loud music along with the rush you naturally feel when you're around so many people starts to return to you.

You see many faces—mostly ones you recognize, but the names fall flat on your tongue. Like you said, it’s been a while since you’ve come to a party.

When you make your way to the kitchen, you’re greeted by a kind, familiar voice. Smiling at Joshua as he calls out your name, you give him a sideways hug before you make your way to the counter with all the drinks. “Fancy seeing you here,” he teases, and you push him lightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Jeongyeon invited me last minute…I had to get Hyunwoo to take my shift,” you explain.

“Ah, that makes sense,” and there’s a funny look on his face when he says it.

“What’s with that face?”

“Nothing! It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“You know Hyunwoo likes you, right?” Joshua says casually, pouring you a cup of punch. Usually, you don’t trust what other people hand to you, but Joshua is a safe exception.

“What?” you ask, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. “You’re lying. Did he tell you that?”

“Not directly…but it’s obvious. Seriously, who gives up their Saturday evening unless they’re making major bank or they have a crush.”

“Whatever. He’s a sophomore,” you murmur, taking a sip of the drink. It’s so sweet it almost masks the taste of alcohol. “Plus, he’s not my type. And I’m not interested in dating. I have too much going on,” you list.

“Please,” Joshua scoffs. “Your thesis and being a barista is not too much.”

“Shut up! I’m here, at a party, aren’t I?”

“Will you come to the next one?”

“That depends.”

“On?” he asks hopefully.

“Hm,” you hum, tapping a finger on your chin. “When, where, who, why, how.”

“Ugh, you’re seriously annoying about this. Just show up when I call you next, okay?”

“No promises. This night better be good if you want me to live up to that.”

“Well I’m not throwing this party so I can’t control that.”

You grin. “Too bad.” You’re having fun, you realize, even if it’s with the comfort of Joshua. You’re glad Jeongyeon brought you here. Joshua glances around for a moment and then back at you, opening his mouth to speak. “Don’t worry about me,” you tell him before he can say anything, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, I just—” he stops himself. You know where this is going, and Joshua knows he doesn’t really need to say it. Cheol is here.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, patting his shoulder firmly, and in this moment you aren’t lying. Not to yourself, not to Joshua. It is okay. You are okay.

He watches you for a moment and then nods, ruffling your hair for a moment before waving goodbye to head off in some other room. You spend the next few minutes tossing your now empty cup to the side, heading off to some other room to find Jeongyeon. She’s dancing with some friends and the moment her eyes lay on you, she notices the deep flush to your face.

Calling you over, you dance with Jeongyeon, music blaring in your ear as you’re pressed up against her and other girls you’re sure you knew the names of at some point in your life. It’s exhilarating for a moment, but then suddenly, after around fifteen minutes, it isn’t.

“I’m going to head out for a breather,” you tell Jeongyeon loudly over the music, and she doesn’t seem to hear your words but with the way you’re pointing at the back door, she figures out what you’re saying. Nodding with a thumbs up, she smiles before turning back to dance along with her friends as you slip out of the huddle of people.

You notice a familiar face from the corner of your vision, but you feel too hot and the air is too stuffy for you to bear another second longer, escaping to the backyard.

It’s quiet outside. The night air is cool, and you now realize why no one is out in the pool like they usually are. Looking down at your feet, you contemplate your next actions for a moment before rolling up the hem of your pants until your knees and sitting by the edge of the pool, dipping in your legs.

You hiss at the cool feeling for a moment, but quickly adjust—you’ve been feeling too hot all evening and this is exactly what you need to take a moment to calm down. Alcohol has never quite been your best friend, the liquid always sending a flush of heat through your whole body.

The water soothes you, and you feel at peace for a moment. Then there’s the sound of the door sliding open and a familiar patter of footsteps thuds against the concrete.

“Isn’t the water cold?” Jeonghan says casually, standing next to you.

You shrug. “I needed to cool down.”

“Hm, fair,” he murmurs, sitting down himself and crossing his legs on the concrete edge of the pool. “It’s been a minute.”

“Has it?” you reply quietly. Yeah. It’s only been six months. You don’t let Jeonghan know that you’ve been counting.

“You don’t stop by to drop off the old pastries anymore,” he says. “Mingyu tries to make croissants now, but it’s the one thing he isn’t great at baking.”

You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol speaking but you’re blunt when you respond, “That sucks.” Jeonghan laughs quietly, nodding. He isn’t used to you being like this —when Cheol said you were different, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t really this.

“How’s school? You working on your thesis and shit?”

You shrug. “I guess. Busy times.”

“You’re being awfully cold,” Jeonghan says with a tick of his tongue. “D’you not have any drinks—you’re always more fun when you’re drunk.”

“Thanks,” you mutter with furrowed eyebrows. Yejin used to tell you that.

“Sorry, that was rude,” Jeonghan says quickly when he notices how you still. “I didn’t mean it like that—I mean, I guess everyone is more fun when they’re drunk.” You chuckle a little at that and he lets out a sigh of relief at the fact that he’s able to get you to loosen up, even just a little. There’s an awkward silence that settles over the two of you as he watches you as you kick your feet in the water. Jeonghan thinks he might take his chances.“He misses you.”

You feel tears well up in your eyes, and you really hope Jeonghan doesn’t notice. You hate how you know who he’s talking about right away, not needing to say the name. “Jeonghan,” you say, and you know that your wobbly voice gives it all away, “Do you really think that’s fair?”

He says your name, and you turn away.

“Do you think that’s fair to me?” Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “He misses me? What about me? What about how I feel? Has Cheol thought about that? Has he?”

“I’m not trying to say it’s fair, I’m just telling you how he’s feeling—”

“Okay? There isn’t much for me to do about it,” you reply quickly. “Cheol and Yejin—” you let out a humorless laugh, “—it isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair. I was able to deal with it. I’m sure Cheol can too.”

“He’s really upset with himself for it,” Jeonghan tries to reason. “Even when he was with Yejin. They’d have arguments about it.”

“Okay? It’s not like I asked him to do that. It’s not like he was my friend to tell me about it.”

“Well if you would just listen—”

“No, you listen,” you say firmly, scrunching up your eyebrows. “Did you know what Yejin said to me the last time we spoke?” Jeonghan shakes his head. “She told me I was boring,” you spit out, and you realize that it’s the first time you’ve ever actually recounted that night to anyone but yourself. “And that she wasn’t even mad that I liked Cheol, but that she hated how I let her have him.” You pause to wipe away some tears. “And she was right. I didn’t put myself first. I could have told Cheol first, could’ve worked things out before she found out, could’ve done something for him, but I didn’t, and I’m not going to make that same mistake again so right now I am going to put myself first.”

Jeonghan is frowning now at the intake of all this information. It’s his first time hearing your side of the story, and he can’t help but get confused with the different timeline’s he’s got going on inside of his head. “Is this really putting yourself first?” he finally asks, and you glare at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying. He was your best friend for a whole decade. Maybe having him back in your life will do more good than you think.”

You scoff. “You mean do Cheol more good to his life. Don’t look at me like that—what do you know about me that makes you so sure of this?”

“Cheol knows you, you know him, and as far as I know, you could use a friend or two.”

“Thanks for calling me friendless,” you say dryly. “But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m fine. I am over it, and I don’t mind having two less friends. And either way, Cheol couldn’t have been that good of a friend if he was willing to just let go of me like that after all those years.” Jeonghan stays silent. “I don’t need more drama in my life anyways,” you conclude, pulling your feet out of the water and standing up.

“You’re not going to give him a second chance?”

You don’t answer as you walk away.

Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, for once in his life. Okay that is an exaggeration, but it’s the first time in a few months that he isn’t stumbling over himself at a party. It’s the first time in a long while that he hasn’t even had a sip of alcohol at this outing, and honestly, he’s quite proud of himself.

He knows why that is, and he isn’t afraid to admit it. When Joshua walks past him and gives him a funny look, Cheol knows what’s up. “No drinks?” Joshua asks, quirking up a brow.

“Joshua,” he murmurs, and he’s surprised his friend can even hear him over the music. “Jeonghan is talking to her.”

Joshua purses his lips. “Yeah, I know.”

Choi Seungcheol is quiet at a party, for the first time in…well pretty much ever. He isn’t under the influence, but it feels like everything is racing through his mind at a hundred miles per hour. Leaning against the wall, Joshua softens his gaze.

“Loosen up,” he says, and then thinks again. “And please don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not drunk,” Cheol scoffs, standing up straight as he glances out the back door, watching you kick the pool water. He remembers his birthday party over a year ago—the pool, you, Yejin, fun. Cheol walks away, not sure where he’s heading and Joshua, using his better judgment, doesn’t follow.

Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, but he might as well be out of his damn mind.

Tonight is not your night.

Your head is pounding. You fucking hate it. You don’t like getting drunk, at least not like this. Not in the way that you’re seeing two of everything. Not in the way that your body feels like it’s on fire, sweat soaking your sheen black shirt. Not in the way that you’re thinking about everything you shouldn’t.

After your conversation with Jeonghan, you realize you don’t have an answer. Pandora’s box is too tempting, and all your better judgment tells you to leave this door closed. To bury it up, throw it into the ocean, burn it—anything to keep it away from you, but the alcohol that courses through your veins brings the memories flooding back.

Now, you aren’t sure if your head hurts from thinking about Cheol, or from the alcohol, or both.

It’s too much.

You lean against one of the steps as you sit on the stairs, clutching a bottle of water close to your chest. Jeongyeon is…she’s fuck knows where. You lost track of her hours ago—after you came back in from the backyard, you got lost in conversations with people you haven’t caught up with in ages, and one thing led to the next and now you’re on nth drink.

You feel dizzy and the cup in your hand without the water bottle slips past your fingers and before you can act quick enough, the cup is tumbling down the two steps in front of you and spilling all over the floor. Granted, it isn’t the only mess made in this house tonight, and by the looks of it, it won’t be the last, but you still feel bad, quickly scrambling up to pick up your cup and find some tissues.

As you lean forward and stumble over the steps a little, you realize your center of gravity is off and you’re about to fall forward, quickly holding out your hands to brace your fall. As you land on the ground with a thud, your mind spins—everything spins, you feel too warm, and then you feel your drink stain your pants in the spot you fell onto and—fuck, this really is too much for you.

Maybe you should’ve just accepted what Jeongyeon said. Maybe—fuck, who are you kidding—parties definitely don’t suit you. You’d be a fool to deny that now, especially when you’re aching to just leave already, even though you never made any plans of getting home.

That problem that you saved to deal with “at a later time” is becoming a problem you need to deal with now and you race through your options, all while seated on the floor, forgetting about how you need to clean up this mess.

It’s when your head starts to hurt and you scrunch up your face in hopes to soothe your headache when you hear his voice. A warm hand wrapped around your wrist and then it’s pulling you up and onto your wobbly legs. “Let’s get you out of here,” Cheol mumbles, and without weighing the consequences of your actions, you nod along.

You don’t care anymore. You need to leave, and if Cheol is the path to getting out, you won’t mind.

When his arms lead you out the front door and into the night, you feel cold. Extremely cold. Maybe it’s because your body is so warm, maybe it’s because the wet alcohol on your pants is sending shivers up your spine—maybe it’s that you’re starting to slowly realize who you’re with.

Standing on the grass, you aren’t sure what to do now. What should you do? What does Cheol want you to do—you stop yourself. It shouldn’t matter what he wants you to do, you remind yourself, so why do you find your gaze lazily making its way over to his face?

Fuck ignorance and its bliss. Right now, you want to know what Cheol is thinking. He’s looking down at you, and suddenly you feel small. His face isn’t demeaning, it’s not angry, he’s not upset, but you just feel so pathetic.

And god, do you hate that word. It echoes in your head. Your dirtied pants, flushed and puffy cheeks, disheveled hair, all as you struggle to stand up—pathetic. You turn away from him, not being able to watch him watch you any longer.

“Let me drive you home,” he says finally over the thick air.

“You’re drunk,” you protest mindlessly—you don’t have a clue if that’s true at all, but knowing Cheol, it probably is.

“I haven’t had anything all night.” Nevermind, you tell yourself, maybe you don’t know him at all. Can six months really change a person that much?

Cheol is thinking the same thing about you. Your eyes are glossy and you look so out of it and he can’t even remember the last time he saw you like this—the only memories he has are when you first got drunk with him and Yejin in high school. The memory shoots an arrow at his heart, but he brushes off the feeling, focusing on you right now.

“Trust me,” he says. You blink a few times, staring at the ground, then at the sky, and then at Cheol. “Trust me,” he repeats, and now you remember just how well you know him. Cheol isn’t asking right now, no, he’s begging. You think as deeply as your wasted mind will let you.

Do you trust Cheol? No.

Cheol hurt you. Yejin hurt you.

Is this about Yejin? No.

Do you trust Cheol? No.

What is this about? I don’t know.

Do you trust Cheol? I don’t know.

Can you trust Cheol? …

He places a hand on your shoulder and the touch is firm.

Can you trust Cheol? Of course you can.

His eyes are soft as you look up at him.

Do you trust Cheol? Absolutely.

Optimism would say that you left the door unlocked. Joshua would disagree and say that you weren’t going to be inside even if the door was wide open. Jeonghan, surprisingly, doesn’t agree with Joshua—your words were harsh, but the water streaming down your cheeks told him that there was more going on in your head than you let on.

Seungcheol tends to only listen to what he wants to hear, at least that’s what all his friends have noticed. They saw it with Yejin—ignoring all the red flags, late nights of arguing until Cheol would murmur, “it’s fine, let’s just go to sleep.” Reality wasn’t the easiest for him to face, and now it’s more apparent than ever.

“He’s too optimistic about her,” Joshua sighs, throwing himself onto his friend’s couch the morning after. He slept over at his friends’ place, and they follow carefully behind him now.

“He still has hope?” Mingyu asks incredulously, sitting on an armchair.

“Too much of it,” Joshua replies, sitting up straight so that there’s room for Jeonghan on the couch.

“She’s still nice to me,” Mingyu says thoughtfully. “Maybe she doesn’t hate him.”

“Well that doesn’t mean anything,” Jeonghan says. “She’s still close friends with Joshua, so I don’t think she’s going to let that whole situation get in the way of her own friendships.”

Joshua nods in agreement, adding, “That, and I never said she hated Cheol.”

Mingyu furrows his eyebrows. “She doesn’t?”

“I don’t think she ever did,” Joshua says honestly, leaning back into the cushions as he stretches his arms.

“Really? I would’ve,” Mingyu admits and Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

“We know that you would,” he teases, causing the taller boy to pout but keep his mouth shut. “Anyways, I think Cheol is going to keep trying.”

“I know he will,” Joshua mutters, running a hand over his face. “He’s going to go in circles after her.”

“She’s not gonna give in?” Mingyu asks, and Joshua shakes his head, but Jeonghan puts his hand up in protest.

“I think she might eventually come ‘round to a stop,” he says, and Joshua shoots him a look of surprise. “I dunno, I know you and her are close, but I just have a feeling. We’ll have to see.”

“Don’t let Cheol hear that. He’ll take it as a sign to never stop,” Joshua warns.

Seungcheol doesn’t hear this conversation now or ever, but he never had plans of stopping in the first place. He was always more optimistic than you—than anyone you knew, really—and anyone who knows him should know better than to underestimate the extent of his determination.

Jeonghan and Joshua are making that mistake right now, and even though Cheol will never know what they said, he is determined to prove them wrong, for the sake of his own sanity.

Jeongyeon picks up the phone after the first ring. “I am so sorry,” she babbles into the line. “I—fuck—we should’ve figured out a ride—I mean I should’ve figured out a ride since I basically forced you to come and I knew I would be drinking and—god, I am so sorry.”

Your head rings at the way her voice blares through the phone, and you sit up and against your headboard. You woke up only moments ago, greeted by a million texts from Jeongyeon, not bothering to soothe your hangover headache before calling her back—she must have been worried, you told yourself.

“It’s okay,” you mumble, reaching over to grab some water from your bedside table. “I got a safe ride home.”

“Yeah, Joshua told me…but still, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you to find a ride on your own.” “Don’t apologize Jeongyeon, I left you without a ride too so stop apologizing or else you’ll start to make me feel bad.”

You can hear her huff on the other end, and you smile. “Okay fine, but seriously. I’ll cover one of your shifts or something soon because I feel bad for even taking you. You looked miserable.”

“That was only because Jeonghan came up to me,” you tell her honestly.

“Jeonghan? Like Seungcheol’s friend?” she says, and you can tell from her voice that she’s hesitating to even say his name.

“Yes,” you sigh softly. Jeongyeon wants to know more, you can feel it, but you aren’t in the mood to bring it up, at least not with her. “It’s whatever. I’ll see you Wednesday?”

She pauses for a moment, seemingly trying to comprehend your quick switch of topics. “Uh, sure. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum, pulling back your phone as you click to hang up. Letting your head fall back onto your pillow, you inhale deeply. You remember the night before too vividly—even if you were drunk, there was too much happening for you to forget.

You know you can’t forget, so you decide to do just what you’ve been doing for the past half year: ignore. It’s what you’re best at, after all. Yet as your day goes on, your mind begins to trail off. You think, and you think, and you think until you aren’t sure what was real and what was not from last night.

You start to realize that you aren’t as good at ignoring as you like to think.

“You think too much,” Hyunwoo jokes, watching you stare at the shot of espresso in front of you. You’d made it for yourself as an attempt to feel more energized after your lecture, but you find yourself zoning out as the small cup sits on the counter, waiting for you to gulp it down.

“Uh, sorry,” you murmur, shaking your head a little. “This shift is light and we haven’t had any customers in a few minutes so I just…”

“It’s fine,” Hyunwoo replies with a smile, and you purse your lips. Ever since Joshua told you that Hyunwoo likes you, you’ve been warning yourself to tread lightly. Not that he isn’t a good guy—Hyunwoo is great—he’s just not your type.

What is your type? The thought is swept out of your mind before you even come up with an answer, swooping up the shot of espresso and holding it up to your lips.

It’s been three days since the party, and you haven’t talked to Joshua in a minute, so your mind is slightly frazzled. Hyunwoo is nice, but you miss the comfort of your close friend, and maybe you’re just a little curious to see if he has anything to say about Cheol driving you home that night.

You’re sure he does—you can already predict his words: “you told yourself you wouldn’t talk to him.” Joshua might be harsh with his words, but you feel with the way you’ve been losing your damn mind recently, you need someone like him to bring you back to reality.

Maybe that’s what went wrong with you, with Cheol, with Yejin—with the three of you. You and Cheol were too lost in fantasies, Yejin always holding you two down. She was right—Cheol wouldn’t like you. Two people who didn’t know a reality other than their imaginations couldn’t work out.

Cheol needed someone to ground himself, you needed someone to ground yourself, and at the end of the day, Yejin chose to help him. You still think about what you would have done if you were in her situation, and after months, you can’t come up with an answer.

You remember the events leading up to her decision like it’s as clear as day, and no matter how many times you replay that moment, you don’t know what to think, except that you’re angry, you’re sad—they left you.

“I heard you and Joshua,” Yejin tells you quietly, and you feel your heart stop. “You like Seungcheol?” and the way she uses his full name makes you feel almost ashamed for confirming it with a nod.

“I—” you pause, “—I didn’t know you liked him.”

“I love him,” she corrects you.

“Oh,” is all you manage out.

“You’re pathetic.”

That was the start of it. Yejin sent Chaeyoung over the next day to pick up her stuff from your apartment. You didn’t hear another word from Cheol. The last thing you remember him saying to you was from that night is still a jumble in your head.

You hate crying, and everyone knows it. So when you sprint out of the room minutes after Yejin, eyes red and puffy, Cheol knows something is wrong. Before he can walk up to you, there’s a hand on his shoulder and Yejin has her head pushed up next to his ear.

You don’t know what she tells him, but his gaze falters. The last thing you hear him say is your name quietly as you rush away.

That night, Joshua drives you home while you think about how you’re going to tell your mother that Cheol and Yejin won’t be coming to your house for spring break.

That was six months ago. Of course, six months pales in comparison to the decade you spent as friends. The years from middle school, to high school, to college—you three side by side. Things changed so quickly, too quickly.

Sometimes you think about what she might’ve told him—what she could’ve said that made him turn away at every gathering you were both at after that. That made him erase the years you shared before all this. That made you all strangers.

You figure things like this will never make sense to you. You don’t understand now, and you probably never will—you are content with that.

At least, up until three days ago you were. Some small voice in your head is reminding you of the confusion, the hurt, the heartbreak you felt when it all happened. Now, you’re more desperate than ever to know what exactly happened, it’s just a matter of if you’re willing to go down this rabbit hole of reconnection.

It’s like the universe hears you and laughs. The ringing of the door fills the little cafe and you’re pushing yourself off the counter, nodding and Hyunwoo. “I got it,” you tell him, dropping your cup in the sink and walking over to the register.

Of course it’s Cheol standing in front of you. You can’t tell if he found out your schedule from Joshua (but no, Joshua wouldn’t do that to you) or if it’s just something like fate. Fate.

You sigh, preparing yourself for yet another onslaught of thoughts. “What can I get you?”

There’s something mischievous glinting in his eyes. “Don’t you remember my usual?” Cheol attempts, and you’re surprised by his forwardness. Don’t be shocked, you think. Cheol never backs down, never stops trying.

Do you give in? Just this once? He did help you out that night—you aren’t sure if you’d be able to get home in one piece if it weren’t for him. Then again, it could’ve just been one of Cheol’s kind favors, something that isn’t reserved for only you, but just any drunk girl in general. You don’t want to mistake his qualities of a gentleman with him holding out a figurative olive branch.

Trust me, his words are like a broken record in your mind.

You’re thinking too much. Fuck, if he didn’t hold out the olive branch that night, you’re going to try to now.

“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup,” you say quietly, tapping it into the tablet. You’re scared to look up because you know he's grinning. You shouldn’t want to be the reason behind his smiles, but you do.

“Thanks,” he chirps, holding out his card so you can turn around the tablet for him.

“Your order will come out on your left,” you tell him, not looking up. You expect things to stop now, for things to quietly go back to normal.

“Hey, when do you get off?”

You do a double take to make sure you heard him correctly. “Sorry?” You finally look up at him and god, you start to remember why you loved his smile so much.

“I asked when you get off from your shift? Six?”

“I—uh, yeah,” you reply without thinking. “How’d you know?”

“That’s when Joshua gets off on Fridays. Just a guess,” he shrugs. You purse your lips and don’t respond, not sure where to take things from here; yeah you held out the branch but you didn’t expect him to grab it just this quickly. “Can I stay until then?”

You should say no. You really should say no. But then you’re thrown back to three days ago and the words are sounding an awful lot like trust me, trust me, and then you realize you just can’t deny him.

“Okay,” you say softly. You can tell from the look of relief on Cheol’s face that he wasn’t expecting this, and you aren’t sure what to take from that. As you turn to make his drink, you glance at the clock. Thirty seven minutes before your shift ends, and you can’t figure out if you’re going to try and make the time before them fly or go slow.

Handing Cheol his drink, you don’t say anything, your movements swift as you try and unbox your own feelings. Of course, you aren’t given the liberty to do that, not when Hyunwoo is standing in front of you.

“Is that Seungcheol?”

“Take a wild guess,” you mutter, closing your eyes tightly for a moment. Maybe if you think hard enough you’ll realize it’s just a dream where your actions have no real consequences.

“I thought you two didn’t talk.”

“Did Joshua tell you that?”

“Kind of…maybe…I sorta figured it out on my own,” Hyunwoo admits. “Sorry, that sounds weird.” You sigh softly, feeling bad for how flustered Hyunwoo is.

“It’s okay…let’s just get back to work,” you suggest, turning away to clean up some of the counters with your extra time.

You don’t notice it, but Cheol watches the conversation between you and Hyunwoo unfold, and while he can’t hear what you two are saying, he has a feeling he won’t like it. He has to remind himself to not have high expectations, to not get his hopes up, just like Jeonghan and Joshua warn, but he just can’t help it.

But when you agree to see him after your shift (he knows you didn’t technically agree to that, but he knows you and is sure that you caught onto his underlying message), he just has to stay hopeful. So as he patiently waits for the clock to strike six, he thinks about what to say.

To be honest, this all happened on a whim. Again, he didn’t really know that you were working today, he just happened to get lucky. Cheol himself isn’t sure what exactly he wants to say to you, he just knows it is a lot.

He thinks about you a lot. The good, the bad, all the in between—Seungcheol misses you. And he knows that it isn’t fair, that he shouldn’t do this, that he doesn’t have the right—Joshua has made that clear to him on numerous occasions.

“She’s fine without you.”

“But—”

“You don’t have a say about being in her life.”

“And you do?” Cheol shoots out.

Joshua steps back. “I don’t either, but I know how she’s doing better than you. I know how she felt after everything happened.”

Cheol pauses. That, Joshua did. Cheol didn’t know anything, did he? “This isn’t about you, it’s about me and it’s about her.”

“There is no you and her,” Joshua says bluntly. Cheol doesn’t say anything, but he knows in his mind that he needs to change that.

Cheol lets the idea run through his mind, that he's making a royal mistake right now, and all this is going to amount to nothing. He doesn’t mull over it for longer than ten seconds. He is going to do this, and if he doesn’t, he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

You get off your shift while Hyunwoo continues his. “You’re going to talk to him?” he asks with knitted eyebrows, pointing at Cheol.

“Uh, yeah,” you say sheepishly in the back, untying your apron. “Don’t tell Joshua, he’ll kick my ass,” you add, only only half joking. Joshua definitely won’t let you hear the end of this, but that is another problem for another time. Hanging up your apron, you grab your backpack from the shelf and slip to the back door. “See you later!” you chirp, throwing Hyunwoo one last wave before you enter the seating area from the back to make your way to Cheol who’s sitting at an elevated stool by the window.

Your once confident strides are much smaller now, you find yourself holding back each one more and more. Do you really want this? Trust me. You’ll just have to find out. “Hey,” you say quietly, and this time you don’t let your gaze fall, tapping on Cheol’s shoulder. He turns around quickly, straw in his mouth as he drinks the half finished drink with a smile.

“Hey, you’re early,” he states casually, glancing at the time. It’s 5:57.

“I guess,” you reply, voice as still as you can manage.

“You’ve probably been here for a while,” Cheol murmurs to himself, getting up from his seat. “You want to go on a walk? The weather is nice right now.”

You want to roll your eyes and tease him, saying “it’s August, of course the weather is nice,” but you stop yourself—you aren’t sure if you’re ready for that level of comfort yet. “Sure,” you agree instead, adjusting your bag over your shoulder as you follow him out the door and onto the main street.

“How was work? Stopped working at the bakery, huh?” he says, and you just don’t get it. How is he being so casual? How is he acting like this is the first time you two have had a real conversation in months? How is he—you don’t even realize you’ve stopped walking until he calls out your name. God, you really missed how it sounded when he said your name. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t even think before responding. “What do you think is wrong?” Cheol is standing a few feet in front of you and the look on his face is confusing…you can’t read it. You aren’t sure if it’s because he’s confused, or if it’s because you just aren’t used to this, or what. Whatever it is, you don’t like it.

“I’m sorry,” Cheol says softly, stepping forward. You still don’t move. “I—uh shit, sorry—this,” he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “this is weird, you’re right I just, I don’t know—”

“Is there something you want to say?” Your eyes bore into his, and Cheol knows he can’t keep any secrets from you.

“I’m sorry.”

You nod. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks hopefully.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask with a shrug. “Sorry for what?”

“A lot of things. Everything,” Cheol admits, and your eyes widen slightly at his honesty. You pretend to glance down at your watch.

“Well you’re going to have to be more specific,” you tell him truthfully, “and don’t have a lot of time.”

“I’ll come again!” he says quickly, holding his hands up as you’re about to walk towards your car. “When do you work? Tell me. I’ll come after every shift.”

“I work almost everyday.”

“I’ll come everyday,” he says with no hesitation. Your heart tightens. You a month ago would have said fuck no, but then trust me, trust me is echoing in your head again and before you can stop yourself, you’re nodding.

“Mondays and Tuesday I get off at 6, Wednesdays at 9, Thursdays at…”

You used to believe Seungcheol always lived up to his promises. When you were younger, you couldn’t think of a single time when he didn’t go by his word. You trusted him, always, so when he broke the promise of “we’ll stick together”—arguably the only one that actually mattered—you were shattered. You still are, or at least your trust is.

Right now, Cheol promises he’ll come see you after every shift. You don’t think you should trust him, but you do anyway, watching the clock to make sure he’s always here on time. You tell yourself you do it because you don’t like to be kept waiting, but you know deep down that you’re just trying to find an excuse.

You’re trying to justify your distrust, even though you already have a perfectly good reason for being tentative around Cheol. Somehow, whenever you’re with him, you forget about it all.

It’s awkward most of the time. Well, more like you’re awkward and Cheol just pretends you aren’t, acting all normal and like you aren’t stumbling over your words and blanking out mid sentence.

You’re not nervous, you just don’t know what to say, the words getting lost in your head as you wonder whether or not there’s a line and where it is and if you should cross it.

Today is the fifth day Cheol comes to see you after your shift. He comes in at 6:54 which is a bit earlier than usual, and it’s the first time that Joshua is seeing the scene unfold. As Cheol walks in, your friend throws you a careful glance before waving over at his friend and connecting fists as he hops over to take his order.

“Iced latte with—”

“I’m not here for a drink,” Cheol says quickly, putting his hand up before he can watch Joshus key in his usual order.

“Huh…did I miss something?” Joshua asks, checking his watch for any missed messages. You chew your lip and Cheol glances at you, realizing that you haven’t told Joshua that you and him are speaking again.

“Uh, no,” Cheol murmurs. He points at you and when he sees that you don’t protest, he proceeds. “We’re, uh, I’m just waiting for her shift to end and—” he stops talking when Joshua whips his head around to stare at you with a look of bewilderment.

You nod shyly, untying your apron as you make your way to the back room. Joshua follows quickly behind you, closing the door behind him while you hang up the garment. “What does he mean by that?”

“I dunno, Josh,” you say, because honestly you aren’t sure how to explain it either.

“Remember what you said?” he tells you—you know where this is headed, and you really don’t want him to bring it up. “You said you’d never forgive them.”

You did say that. “In a moment of anger,” you argue, grabbing your bag. You know he’s just being protective of you, but right now it’s getting on your nerves.

“And? You’re just going to forgive him because he drove you home when you were drunk?”

“I haven’t forgiven him!” you pause. “At least not yet.”

“You’re seriously going to forgive him after all that you said about moving on?”

“I have moved on, Joshua,” you tell him. It’s true. “There’s nothing wrong with letting him back in my life now, especially if he wants to.”

“And what if he fucks up again?”

You roll your eyes as you walk to the back door. “How’s that supposed to happen? Thought you said he and Yejin broke up?”

“They did, but that isn’t the point.”

“Then what is?” you ask exasperatedly. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. You’re acting like I don’t know the consequences of my actions. You’re acting as if I wasn’t the one who had to go through all that, so please just let me make this decision.”

Joshua steps back and sighs, and by the way he doesn’t say anything as you open the door, you assume he has accepted defeat.

Cheol meets you on the other side of the door, wearing his usual smile. You can only pray that he didn’t hear your conversation with Joshua. “Hey,” he greets and you nod in response. Well if he heard anything, he pretends he doesn’t. The truth is, Cheol hears every word, he’s just very good at putting a smile on his face.

You two walk out of the store silently and side by side. “How was work?” Cheol asks.

“Good. It’s most fun with Joshua,” you reply, walking on the sidewalk like you two usually do. You follow a trail down the street and through some parks for kids, always making a round trip back to your cafe where your car is parked.

The days have been getting shorter, and it’s evident by the way the sky is painted a deep orange right now. “Didn’t sound like he’s too happy today,” Cheol comments, and you halt your steps for just a moment, realizing he did hear you two.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumble. You two haven’t talked about that since you started speaking again. All the things Cheol said he wanted to apologize for were left suspended in the air, waiting for one of you to pluck it out and face reality. Neither of you were ever really good at that. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“I’m sorry you had to say that,” Cheol responds almost instantly, standing in the middle of the sidewalk and turning to face you.

Your eyebrows furrow when you respond, “What?”

“I mean, shit, I worded that badly,” he groans, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m sorry that…you know—you said you’d never forgive me and I’m sorry. And I know you probably shouldn’t forgive me but I’m sorry.”

You certainly weren’t expecting that, but then again, you need to remind yourself to never be surprised when it comes to Cheol. You bite back the words, “it’s okay,” because you aren’t ready to say that, so instead you just nod. “Okay.” Your eyes glaze around your surroundings and they fall on a bench. Pointing at it, you say, “Let’s sit, yeah?”

You two sit side by side on the bench, and you think that this is the closest either of you have been in a long time, your thighs almost brushing against each other’s. The sky darkens above you, and you usually would take this as your cue to go back to your car, but tonight, you stay.

There’s a question that’s prodding at the back of your mind, and you chide yourself for even thinking about it. Don’t ask him, don’t do it, and you almost listen. Almost. You figure that the fact that you’re even here with Cheol right now is a sign that things are changing more than they already have, that you’re changing in ways that you didn’t know you could, and Cheol is changing, and he’s changing for you.

Cheol senses it too, that you’re thinking deeply, and he waits. When you’re finally lifting your head and looking up at the sky, he turns to you as you open your mouth. “How did you guys break up?” You can’t bring yourself to say “you and Yejin.” It’s too painful of a reminder that there was once a Cheol and Yejin, and that it came at the expense of you and Cheol and Yejin.

He takes a deep breath and hesitates, but you don’t retract your question. You feel after everything, you deserve to know, no matter how aching the memory is. “She cheated on me.”

“Oh.”

Cheol’s voice is flat for the first time since you’ve started speaking again. “Yeah,” he mutters. You purse your lips together, unsure of what to do, what to say. There was a time that you felt you knew all the right words, all the right things to do, but now you’re lost. Maybe it’s because Cheol has changed, but then—no, it’s not him, it’s you. You’ve changed. You thought you didn’t care, and that was true.

You didn’t care about what happened to Cheol or Yejin or them because they had left you and there was nothing after that. You didn’t care because caring wouldn’t help you get either of them back, and you didn’t care because caring only made long nights of you crying in your bed even longer.

But did you ever stop caring about Cheol? About Yejin? There’s a fine line, you realize, between caring about your relationship with someone and caring about them, and it hits you that not once did you not care about Cheol.

What would you have done if this had happened six months ago? What would you have said? You were never the best at words, but when it came to Cheol and Yejin, you always found some way to make them feel better. Looking over at Cheol, his head hangs low as he chews on his lip.

You reach over your hand and place it on his shoulder gently. “I’m sorry,” you tell him.

Cheol chuckles hollowly, causing you to frown deeply. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”

“We have time for that later,” you reply honestly, not breaking the contact even when he shifts a little, finally looking up at you.

“Later?” he asks hopefully. You smile and nod. This is a promise, you both know. Joshua is going to kill you for this later.

“He got fired?” you snort. “Didn’t he say he could get away with anything?”

“Yeah,” Cheol chuckles. “And to be fair, he did get away with a lot. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t get fired months ago. He would give me and Soonyoung discounts all the time, it was crazy.”

“I remember that…” you say quietly.

“Yeah, anyways, he got fired and now he’s complaining about not having extra cash. Minghao’s telling him to just find another job but Hannie is convinced that he’ll be able to convince his boss to hire him back…”

“Knowing Jeonghan, he might just be able to pull that off.”

“Who knows,” Cheol murmurs with a shrug. “It’s late. Do you want to go?”

“Want me gone already?” you tease. Things are more comfortable now. It isn’t the same as before—how could it—but it’s getting there. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be “back to the old days,” but you sure are trying to get as close as you can.

“You know that isn’t true,” he shoots back. You trust him, and if that’s a mistake, you hardly care. Maybe this is where you start to crumble. “I’m just trying to make sure that it’s not too late when you get home.”

He’s being caring, although it isn’t unexpected. Cheol was always caring. “You’re right,” you murmur, not wanting to admit that you might have wanted to sit here and talk to him a bit longer. You stand up, grabbing your back and he follows after you as you walk up the street in the direction of the shop. You return back to the conversation of Jeonghan and his antics both in and out of the workplace, and before you know it, you’re back at the parking lot.

You’ve grown to look forward to these meetings—how could you not—and it does kill a little bit of self control inside of you every time you realize that fact.

“You gonna go now?” he asks softly, and as you stop walking, you let the tension grow thick. This part is always awkward. You don’t know if it’s fitting to say “bye” or “goodbye” or “see you later” or hug him or wave or—you usually settle for a smile but there’s a growing ache in your heart which tells you that maybe you want more.

Cheol seems to think the same, and it all happens so quickly, too quickly, and suddenly you’re going dizzy and your world is spinning.

Choi Seungcheol’s lips are soft.

And they don’t press against yours for more than a second before you place your hands on his chest and push him back. You almost indulge. Almost.

“Why would you do that?” you whisper, not meeting his gaze. Cheol runs a hand through his hair, steeping back with wide eyes.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking—shit, shit, shit—I’m sorry, I’m so sor—”

You ball your fists and your face contorts into some ugly sort of grimace. “Stop saying that!” you cry out, and Cheol stills. “Stop fucking saying you’re sorry! I-I-I hate it!”

“What?” and the hurt is more than evident in his voice.

“I know you’re sorry, okay? I get it,” you tell him exasperatedly. “And you keep saying it—you’re sorry for everything, you’re sorry for all of it. It’s all you say, but maybe if you just stopped and thought for a second you’d realize that no matter how much you keep saying it, I have not once said it’s okay.”

He gapes at you for a moment but recovers quickly, running a hand through his hair. “I—” he pauses, “I don’t know how else to tell you. It’s been a few weeks and—”

“You didn’t speak to me for six months,” you spit out, and you wonder if this is what it’s all going to come down to. The past month of you figuring out your emotions, working out what you want, what’s good for you, what’s not—you’re afraid that right now it will all amount to nothing.

Maybe you two were in your heads too long. Maybe this was your harsh pull back down to the ground.

“Six months, Seungcheol,” you repeat, and he winces when you use his full name.

“I know, I’m s—”

“You’re sorry, I know,” you say quieter this time, slumping against the wall. His lips were so warm, so soft, you still feel their ghost on your lips. You calm down for a second at the thought, but then your anger bubbles up when you remind yourself that Yejin got to taste him too. Got to have him, love him, cherish him for those six months. Jealousy doesn’t suit you, but that isn’t what this is about anyways. Right now, all it does is fuel your heat.

“I just—I don’t know how to really say it,” Cheol admits.

“Well you should figure that out,” you tell him harshly. “I can’t stand here forever, waiting for you to find the right words.”

“You’re right, I know.”

“Do you?” you ask, exhausted. It’s all catching up to you know—you’re tired, so tired.

“I do.”

Do you trust Cheol?

“I don’t believe you,” your voice quivers when you say it, and Cheol feels his heart break at the sound. “I can’t.”

“I know—that’s my fault, I know.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m trying.” You know he is, there isn’t a doubt in your mind. Inhaling deeply, you choose your words carefully.

“We need to talk about everything,” you tell him slowly.

“Okay,” Cheol agrees quickly. “Okay, where do you want to start?”

“Where do you think we should start? I think that’s where we should start.”

Cheol sucks in a breath and pinches his eyebrows together. You can tell that he, just like you, is making sure he doesn’t say anything he’ll regret. “Well, the beginning, I guess,” he sighs, and you open your mouth in protest but he holds his hand out to stop you. “Okay just listen.” “Fine.”

“I found out Yejin liked me in January,” he tells you.

“That was a month before…” your voice trails off and he nods.

“Before we got together and…” And we stopped talking to you. He doesn’t say, doesn’t need to. “Yeah. Chaeyoung told me. Yejin didn’t know I knew until…”

“Until you started liking her,” you mutter under your breath. You furrow your eyebrows and look up at him. “You know I know this, right? Joshua told me when you told him.”

Cheol seems surprised by that. “What, really?” you aren’t sure why he never expected that—you and Joshua are pretty much like siblings, after all.

“Yeah. I think I knew before Yejin,” you admit. Your voice is small, and the way the entire event of six months ago is playing out in your head is a not so nice reminder of why you’re in this situation in the first place.

“Oh.” Silence. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You frown. “What was I supposed to say? ‘No Cheol! Don’t like Yejin! Like me!’” you say in a mocking tone. “Why would I do that to her? Why would I do that to you?” you were calm a moment ago, but you feel yourself growing upset again.

“I thought you—” Cheol thinks for a moment, wondering if he should say it, “—I thought you liked me.”

“I did,” you seethe out. “But did you think I was going to beg you to change your mind? To change your feelings?” Cheol is quiet now, and you take it as your cue to continue. “I…I cared about you and Yejin so much—” that’s a lie (you still do)—“and you should know that if you guys were happy I would be okay with that.”

“What about your feelings? Why didn’t you do anything about that?” Cheol shoots back, and it’s starting to sound an awful lot like your last conversation with Yejin.

“You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”

You feel tears stream down your cheeks at the memory and you need to remind yourself that it isn’t worth crying over—but then again, it is. “I would’ve dealt with my feelings just as I have been for the past six months—by myself and totally fine.”

Cheol doesn’t have a response to that, because if there’s one thing he won’t even attempt to refute, it’s this. Because after everything, you have been okay. You have been healing. It killed him every time Joshua would tell him you’re doing fine, because he wasn’t doing fine and he was having a really, really hard time accepting that.

He knows it’s unfair, Cheol knows he’s being anything but fair, but he just doesn’t know how to help it.

It’s the worst that you’re crying now—crying ‘cause of him. Because Cheol knows that you were okay and it was him that decided to butt back in your life to try and make amends, and you being you, decided to let him back in and fuck—he knows he’s being selfish by doing all this and he know he doesn’t deserve this yet you are still here, trying to hear him out.

“I fucked up, I don’t deserve a second chance.”

You choke back a sob, “Damn right you don’t,” and Cheol knows that you’re right.

“I’m still going to try.”

You brush some tears away from your face. “I know.”

You go home that night without another word, and Cheol only stops you to make sure you’ve stopped crying before you start the car and drive off. It’s the next day, and you can’t help but glance back and forth between the door and clock as your shift nears its end.

“You waiting for him?” Hyunwoo asks you from the side, and you feel a little bit bad at the way his voice sounds a bit sad.

“Uh—” Are you waiting for Cheol? “—I guess, yeah.” There’s no reason for you to deny it. You’ve replayed last night’s conversation more times than you can count, and you still aren’t sure how to feel. You need to see him.

As the time nears six, an uneasy feeling pools at your stomach, and you wonder what you’ll do if he doesn’t show up. End it for good? Add it to the list of reasons why you should never talk to him again? Block h—

The bell above the door ringing saves you from that rabbit hole. It’s 5:59 and Cheol waits in front of the door and for once, he isn’t donning a smile. Looking at Hyunwoo, you throw out a small wave before slipping to the back room. Hyunwoo doesn’t follow you, he stopped doing that after the first two times Seungcheol started coming, although you aren’t sure why. It’s a passing thought though, definitely not at the forefront of your mind as you hang your apron routinely and exit through the back door.

Cheol waits for you by the door and you don’t say anything as you both leave through the front. The atmosphere is thick and you aren’t sure who is going to say what and when. It’s only when you’ve walked around two minutes down your regular path that Cheol stops in front of that bench. Flickering his eyes towards yours for a moment of confirmation, he sits down and motions you to follow. You sit side by side and once again, you two are almost touching, but aren’t quite there just yet.

“So,” you finally say. “Where were we?”

“That night,” Cheol replies quietly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You glance over at him and can’t help but realize how…small he looks. You want to reach out and hold him for a moment, but you shouldn’t.

“What about that night?” you murmur. There’s too much about that night for you to even fathom what he’s thinking about.

“What did Yejin say to you? In the room?” he asks.

“Does that matter?” You seriously don't want to recount it, but then Cheol is nodding and you just have to give in. “She was mad…same reason as you,” you mumble.

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t like how I was accepting of it all,” you sigh, leaning back. “I think she just got sick of me,” you finally confess. “Didn’t like me anymore, and then she thought I was pathetic or something and used that as an excuse to just—I dunno, drop me.” You pause, turning to look at him again. “What did she tell you?”

You know you probably shouldn’t ask. It’ll be painful, you know, but you’re confident you can handle it.

“She said it couldn’t work…the three of us. That it was either me ‘n’ her or nothing, because nothing could go back to normal after this.”

You look down. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You believed her?”

“Well, at the time,” Cheol murmurs, “Yeah I did.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Trust me, trust me. “I liked that she liked me. I liked her and I thought I was going to lose you either way and—”

“I said okay.”

“Is it okay?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “I beat myself up a lot for all that, you know? Wondered what she could’ve said that made you not wanna fight to be my friend.” You scoff to yourself. “I guess we both suck at that.”

“Huh?”

“You know: fighting for what we want,” you clarify.

“That can change,” Cheol says, clearing his throat. “I’m fighting right now.”

That conversation is the first of many. One month later and Cheol is still fighting. It’s your birthday, and you aren’t surprised that he remembers, but you are surprised when he gets you a gift. A new apron. “Your old one is getting…well, old.”

You’re both sitting at the bench once again, and for the first time, your thighs brush against each other’s fully. It’s warm, it’s welcoming, it’s soft. Maybe you and Cheol haven’t finished crossing the bridge yet, but you’ve definitely finished building it. There’s time for the rest later. You want to focus on you and him now.

“I wonder why,” you say sarcastically, taking it out of the bag. “It’s cute—hey, is this my name?” you ask excitedly, holding up the little spot on the top with some letter embroidered in.

“Uh, yeah, it’s custom and all…I got Minghao to help me with the design.” You smile genuinely, turning to him.

“Thank you, I love it.”

“Thank god. Jeonghan said it was a stupid gift but I thought it was thoughtful…”

“Jeonghan once got you a rubber duck for your birthday, so I would take everything he says about gift-giving with a big fat grain of salt.”

“Hey, I still have that duck,” he tells you, and you both laugh together. “It’s in the bathroom, I only take it down for special occasions.”

“Special occasions being…?”

Cheol taps his chin. “Hmm…birthdays, the last day of school, Christmas…I’d like to think my luck is pretty great whenever I use it.”

“Is that so…” you hum. “When was the last time you used it?”

“Like two days ago.”

“Nothing special happened two days ago.” That’s a lie, and he sees right through it.

Cheol smiles smugly. “I know. It was just right before I came to see you.” Your cheeks burn as you turn away.

Two days ago being the last time you and him talked about all of it. From beginning to end, just like you had so many times before except for the first time, you were finally able to utter the words, “it’s okay, we’re okay.”

“Right…maybe luck really was on your side then,” you tease.

“Whatever,” Cheol says with a pout, watching you glance at your phone. “Do you need to go? I thought you didn’t have anything planned?”

“I don’t,” you say with a huff. “I just saw that my birthday gift from my parents got delivered. It’s fine, I’ll pick it up when I get home later.” You ponder whether this is the right moment to bring it up. “You can… come along if you want.”

It’s almost as if his ears perk up. “To your place?”

“Um, yeah,” you try to come off as casual. “Only if you want,” you add quickly, and he picks up on the double meaning right away.

Which is how you end up here.

“Haven’t been here in so long,” Cheol murmurs, looking over your apartment. It’s the exact same, save for some pictures with Yejin and him that have since been taken down. He would have been upset about it a month ago, but now he is content. It only makes it a goal for him to take more pictures with you now so you’ll have some to put up.

“Mhm,” you nod, putting your bag down on your kitchen counter.

“Hey…” he says softly as you flick on one light. It’s dim, but there’s just enough light for you to see the worried look on his face.

“Everything alright?”

He chews on his lips and he looks pretty. “I need to know where your head is at right now,” he admits. There’s a lot of different meanings to what he’s just asked, but with the way he’s looking at you, you have a pretty good idea of what he’s trying to say. “I don’t want to misread anything like the last time I—the last time.” The last time he kissed you.

You look down at the counter. You brought him here for a reason, but are you ready?

Trust me, trust me.

Of course you are. With Cheol, you’ll always be ready.

So when he’s pushing you up against the wall, hands grappling at your waist, feeling his warm, wet lips against you, you don’t waste a single second thinking about anyone else. You don’t think about what Joshua will say, you don’t think about how Jeongyeon will react, you don’t think about the look on Yejin’s face if she were to ever find out about this because right now, it’s Cheol that’s in front of you, and it’s Cheol that will always be in front of you.

One leg around his torso, your mouth smashes against his in a tangled mess of tongue and lip and it’s desperate and has you aching for more. And then he’s leading you to your bedroom and you are reminded of the fact that Cheol knows this place so well that he doesn’t even need to ask for directions.

Throwing you onto the bed your mind goes blank—it’s as if all the happiness in the world rushes to you at once, leaving you all light-headed and disoriented when Cheol clambers on top of you, his thigh wedged between your legs.

With his fingers pressed deeply into your hips as he runs his tongue along your jawline,rocking your clothed cunt against Cheol’s bare thigh, his gym shorts hiked up so that you can press your core as close to him as possible. Your breath is slightly labored as his lips press open mouthed kisses all the way down, and you feel yourself become increasingly needy at the way you can see the imprint of his cock against his shorts.

“Shit—you’re so—wait,” he murmurs, pulling his lips away from your burning skin to bore his eyes down at you. “Is this okay?” he asks softly, pulling his knee back so there’s some space between you and him. Cheol doesn’t expect for your eyes to widen, hand shooting out and grabbing his thigh to make sure it doesn’t move another inch.

“Yes,” you gasp out, pulling his leg so hard that he stumbles forward a bit when you do, the hard muscle pressing back against your core. Cheol lets the initial shock of you being needy for him settle in, and suddenly he’s grinning and having one hand back at your waist, the other at your neck so he can tilt your head up and have better access to skin over your collarbone.

His fingers are rough and calloused as they slip beneath your shirt, pushing it up just far enough that your bra is exposed. Hovering above you, you watch through hazy vision as Cheol’s eyes dilate at the sight, swooping his head down to free one of your tits from the cup and catching a nipple in his mouth.

Your body jerks against his as he swipes a tongue over the hardened peak, and suddenly you feel that there’s too much fabric between you and his thigh. “Ch-cheol,” you mutter, tapping at his head that is currently burning beneath your shirt while he sneaks kisses all up and down your stomach, between your tits, and over your cleavage.

“What is it, baby?” he coos, pulling his head out and looking up at you, the pet name shooting shivers up our spine.

“Pants—ah—” you whine when he presses his thigh harder into you. “Pants!” you cry, trying your best to unbutton them with shaky fingers. Cheol picks up right away, helping you unzip them before hooking two fingers on the waistband and yanking the fabric down and over your feet, freeing yourself and your pussy of its unbearable restraints.

“Fuck, this is—you’re so hot,” he murmurs, looking down at your bare legs and tracing his fingers from your ankles to your knees, and then finally through your inner thighs where he bends down and starts to place rough kisses.

Usually, if he was in his right mind, Cheol would have wanted to take his sweet time with you, unraveling, unwinding all of you. But he’s figured that both of you have waited long enough and that you both deserve to be needy, to be desperate, to let this moment pass as quickly as it started because there will be plenty of time for a round two and three later on.

All you need right now is to feel each other, which is how he ends up pushing your panties to the side and digging his tongue into your dripping folds without warning. “Cheol!” you moan loudly, your hand gripping his hair tightly while he simultaneously wraps one arm over your hips, pulling you closer.

Seungcheol is going crazy, he thinks, because the taste of your pussy is better than any alcohol he’s ever drunk. You’re sweet and your cunt is literally fluttering its pretty fuck folds all for him as he slides one finger through them to collect your growing wetness. He feels himself growing high on the feeling and taste alone, his own hips pressing into the mattress in hopes of relieving some of the tension in his own pants.

There’s a slobbering mess that runs down his lips and chin as he fervently makes out with your pussy, and you briefly wonder how a man can be so good at making you feel this good before the thought is swept from your mind by one of Cheol’s thick fingers prodding at your entrance.

Holy hell, you’re so tight for him—gummy walls clamping down on his single digit the second he started to move it in and out’ta you, his mind racing as he thinks about how you might feel around his cock. And Cheol isn’t the only one thinking about it either, because when he’s slipping in another finger, you’re already crying out for more.

“I gotta work you up to it baby,” he tells you sympathetically, using one free hand to shove down his pants leaving him in only a shirt and boxers.

“Don’t wanna wait…” you protest with a pout, eyes shamelessly looking down at his figure hunched over you so you can catch sight of the imprint of his cock against his boxers.

Cheol chuckles, even though he’s on the brink of giving in himself. “Take your shirt off for me, yeah? It’ll save us some time.” That’s all you need to hear before you’re sitting up and yanking the stupidly tight shirt over your head and throwing it to the side as Cheol’s fingers continue their onslaught deep inside your cunt.

It’s less of an in and out motion now, and more of a curling motion that’s exploring you, finding out what makes you hum, what makes you moan, and what makes you go—“Oh fuck, Cheol!” He grins at the sound, leaning down to press a kiss on your clit as he pulls his slick fingers away.

“You wanted more?” he murmurs, slipping his own shirt over his head to reveal the familiar set of abs and toned chest. You let out a dazed smile at the sight, letting your body fall back onto the mattress.

“‘course I do,” you reply without hesitation, watching eagerly as his hand holds the waistband of his boxers and pushes the cloth down, revealing his cock all thick and hard as it springs out and hits his abdomen.

It’s long and it’s thick, and it’s nothing less than what you expected from Cheol, in fact, it’s a lot more than that. But you don’t even have time to think about how pretty his cock looks, pink tip all flushed as a thick vein runs down the side of its length, because it’s pushing against your entrance as he watches your face carefully.

When your eyebrows knit into a convulsion of pleasure and you squeak out his full name, he knows he can't hold back, slamming into your drooling cunt in one go.

And his cock is so big it’s pushing you open, but the pain is so good, so enthralling, that you don’t even mind being split in half if it’s like this—if it’s because every time he pulls his hips back, you know he’ll slam it deeper and deeper every single time, hitting spots deep inside of your cunt that you didn’t even know existed.

All while your limbs are flailing around him, thrashing as you bite into his shoulder, muffling your cries of, “Cheol, Cheol, Cheol!”

Your name falls from his lips too, mixed in with the mindless words of, beautiful, pretty, princess as he compliments you for takin’ him so well and squeezin’ him so good he doesn't know how he hasn’t bust already.

“God, fuck,” he moans when you look up at him through heavy lashes, tethering his boto m lip between his teeth to try and slow his impending orgasm. “Fuck,” he chokes out, “shit—I love you—”

And there is your breaking point. Like the world has come to a stop and there is only you and Cheol and this moment and—god, you really are too far gone now—and him and you is all that matters.

You cum like you never have before, his cock battering your cunt ‘til you’re shaking and crying and yelling out his name as you feel nothing but him, think nothing but him, know nothing but him.

This is the moment you’ve both been waiting for, and as soon as Cheol has noticed your slower breaths he’s pulling out and letting you wrap one hand around his fat cock to help jerk himself off. He’s so close—so fucking close—and then you’re whispering those fated words—those three words—he feels everything in him just snap, hot cum shooting all over your swollen, abused cunt, and Cheol feels his heart swell.

Love.

There’s a lot more you need to work on, you both know that, but it’s okay.

Trust me, trust me.

I love you.

a/n. literally wrote the last part half asleep and i hate the ending but... okay wow … i had a tough time writing this because i really wanted it to be taken slow and i’m not really sure how well it went … also this story might have been a bit a lot of a reflection of a friendship that went wrong in my own life LOL so this might be me playing out how i wish things ended up :/so anyways please sharing ur thoughts and like and reblog!

3K notes · View notes

wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 3 months

Text

Let's Talk About That Chapter 1

Psychiatrist!Avenger!Fem!Reader × Wanda Maximoff

Summary: You are the young psychiatrist for the Avengers, and you take your job very seriously, but what happens when Wanda joins the team, turning your life upside down?

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: legal age gap r is 19 w is 25, talks of death and grief, a bit of angst, therapy sessions

A/N: I had this idea for a while and wrote it a while ago, but spruced it up for publishing. I hope you enjoy it!

May 7th-10th 2015

The only sounds to be heard were the scratches of your pen against paper as you wrote down notes the old fashioned way and the hum of the AC unit installed in your office. Tony let you have a nice corner of the tower where there was sunlight and windows. You had gone with a soft gray for the walls, an L-shaped mahogany desk that had both a desktop computer and your laptop. Across from your desk was two couches and a coffee table between them with an assortment of fidget toys, a succulent, a handful of magazines, and a box of tissues.

Everyone had been away on an important mission and normally you’d go with, but you'd been recovering from a previous injury, you still are when you hear a knock on your door,

"Open." You let them know and just from their aura you can tell it's Tasha, but she's with someone else, an aura you don't recognize. You look up to find a girl with chestnut colored hair, and a dark aura around her. "Hey Tash. I'm glad you're all home safe. I'm assuming we'll restart our sessions?" You ask the red head.

"Yes. We can resume them. Tomorrow. Today I need you to have a talk with this one." Tasha helps her into the room and gestures for her to sit down, Tasha walks over and hands you a large file. "She came from HYDRA, they had a lot of info on her, she had joined us in the fight against Ultron." Tasha tells you before lowering her voice, "She lost her twin brother during the battle. So maybe you can get her to talk." You smile at Tasha and then look past the red head.

"Yeah of course we shouldn't have any issues Tash. Leave it to me." You tell her as I adjust your glasses, quickly looking over her file as Tasha exits, closing the door behind her, "Wanda Maximoff, 25, born in Sokovia." You say out loud as you walk around your desk to the other couch across from where she's sitting criss-cross. You take notice she's taken her shoes off and smile, taking note of the fact that she’s comfortable enough to do something like that. "I'm Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I'm 19. I'm also an Avenger. I have a power that allows me to see auras and emotions. I can also influence people's emotions and use my voice to influence others around me." You tell her a little about yourself first to help make her comfortable with talking about herself.

"You're 19? How are you a doctor?" She finally talks and you can hear her thick Sokovian accent which is like music to your ears.

"I'm very smart. Graduated high school at 12 finished my Doctorate last year for psychiatry and Tony took me in as the Avengers Psychiatrist shortly after that. Everyone here needs a little bit of help and that is what I'm here to provide for you." You smile at her as you open a fresh notebook for her, choosing a red covered one noticing that she was wearing Tasha’s red leather jacket. "So tell me a little about yourself. Anything you want." You ask as you jot down her basic info on the first page.

"I love American sitcoms." she tells you first. You smile and look at her over your glasses.

"Why is that?" You ask as you jot down her words.

"We used to watch them as a family every night so we could learn English." She tells you making a smile appear on your face.

"When you say we who does that entail?" You question the Sokovian wanting to get to the root of her problems.

"My Mama, Papa, and Pietro..." She tells you solemnly.

"Who is Pietro?" You inquire, looking up from your notebook.

"He is...was...my twin brother." You jot down everything she says during your session and she does open up a little bit with some persuasion on your part, but that isn't unusual for your sessions.

"Well Wanda thank you for opening up to me. Your aura is looking a little warmer from when you first walked in. How about you come back in three days for another session?" You tilt your head as you grab a little card for her.

"Why three days?" She asks nervously, tugging at her sleeves attempting to cover her hands, but the jacket doesn't budge. She starts picking at her nails as an alternative, chipping the black nail polish further.

"I like to have frequent sessions the first month. Then we'll have them weekly just like the others." You let her know and she nods her head as you write the date and time for her to show up on the card for three days from now. Standing up with her, "I offer a high fives, hand shakes, fist bumps, or a hug at the end of sessions. Which would you like?" You ask and she's thrown off a bit by the statement at first but then answers.

"Hug. I could use a hug right now." You open up your arms and let her come to you. She ends up crying in your arms as you sooth her, letting her know it is okay to cry.

"I'll always be here for you Wanda. I'm always on your side." You whisper to her and she holds you tighter at the words.

You sat back down at your desk after Wanda left, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you. Empathy for Wanda's pain, determination to help her heal, and a lingering sense of dread about what HYDRA had done to her. But you pushed those feelings aside, focusing on the task at hand.

As the Avengers' psychiatrist, it was your responsibility to help your teammates navigate the mental and emotional toll of their work. Sometimes that meant delving into painful memories or difficult emotions, but it was a role you took on willingly. After all, you had your own share of struggles, and if you could use your powers to help others, then it was worth it.

You glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time for lunch. You decided to take a break and head to the common area, where you found Tony tinkering with one of his suits.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted you with a grin. "How's it going?"

"Good," you replied, sinking into a nearby chair. "Just had a session with Wanda. She's been through a lot."

Tony nodded solemnly. "Yeah, losing her brother and all that HYDRA stuff... it's rough."

You sighed, running a hand through your Y/H/C hair. "Yeah, but she's strong. I think she'll come through it."

Tony gave you a reassuring smile before returning to his work, and you took a moment to appreciate the camaraderie of the team. Despite your differences and the challenges you guys faced, you were a family, bound together by our shared experiences and our commitment to protecting the world.

After a quick lunch, you headed back to your office to prepare for your next session. As you reviewed your notes from Wanda's session, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to her story, something hidden beneath the surface. But for now, all you could do was continue to offer her support and hope that she would find the strength to confront her demons and emerge stronger on the other side.

With that thought in mind, you square your shoulders and prepare to face whatever challenges lay ahead. As an Avenger, a psychiatrist, and a friend, you were ready to do whatever it took to help your teammates and protect the world from whatever threats may come our way.

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

Three days passed in a blur of meetings, training sessions, and the occasional emergency mission. But today, you were back in your office, eagerly awaiting Wanda's return for your second session. As you sat at your desk, reviewing your notes from your previous meeting, you couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for her. Losing a loved one in battle was something you could relate to all too well.

Before you could dwell too much on your own past, there was a soft knock on your door, and Wanda stepped into the room. Her aura seemed a bit brighter today, though still tinged with sadness. "Hey, Wanda," you greeted her with a warm smile, motioning for her to take a seat. "How are you feeling today?"

Wanda hesitated for a moment before answering, "Better, I think. Thank you for... everything last time."

You nodded, understandingly. "Of course. It's what I'm here for." You gestured toward the notebook on the table. "Shall we pick up where we left off?"

For the next hour, the two of you delved deeper into Wanda's past, her memories of Sokovia, her time with HYDRA, and her experiences with her brother, Pietro. With each word she spoke, you could feel her emotions swirling around you, and you did your best to guide her through them, offering comfort and support where you could.

As your session came to a close, Wanda seemed visibly lighter, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Y/N," she said softly, wiping away a stray tear. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of fulfillment wash over you. "Anytime, Wanda. Remember, I'm always here for you."

Before she left, Wanda surprises you by reaching out and giving you a tight hug. "Thank you," she repeated, her voice thick with emotion.

As you watched her leave your office, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to help someone in need, to make a difference in their life, even if it was just one session at a time. And as you glanced down at the Power Stone embedded in your chest, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps this was the true source of your ability to connect with others on such a deep level. But for now, all that mattered was that you were making a difference, one session at a time.

#ley speaks #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fluff #ley writes #wanda x reader #wanda x you

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monzabee · 1 year

Text

baby honey – al12

masterlist

Summary: The one where Arthur swears he’s not thinking about you, his best friend, all the time – just today, yesterday, and tomorrow night.

Pairing: arthur leclerc x reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: angst, unreciprocated feelings (that turn into reciprocated feelings), hurt, comfort, alcohol consumption, being drunk, idiots to lovers, denial is a river in egypt, charles and his big brain, miscommunication, mentions of drunk driving (don’t drink and drive!), jealousy jealousy, cying, google translate French!

Request: “after reading ur newest cl16 fic i want one where reader always liked charles but he gets a gf and she ends up with arthur (who’s her bff?? bffs to lovers 🤔) just a lot of hurt comfort” + “Hi! Can I please request ballerina!reader with either Charles or Arthur, you can choose to write it or do it as a smau, thank you!” + “can you please write something with Arthur + size/height difference?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it is time for the debut of arthur my beloved on this blog. i LOVED all of the requests for this one! i was originally going to name this fic after another taylor song (wink, wink), but then i was listening to baby honey by harry styles and something just clicked, so i hope you guys also agree with me. if anyone is wondering, this is an unreleased song from his first self-titled album. i know the request was a bit different, with reader having feelings for charles first, but i think changing it a little bit and having miscommunication made it a bit deeper. so thank you, anons, for these requests, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Arthur has a problem when it comes to you – and that is not being able to say the word ‘no’. This has put him in some very interesting positions in the past, but whatever happens, it just seems that Arthur is not able to mutter out the word ‘no’ when you ask him of something. It’s always been that way, he supposes. He was never able to deny you when you looked at him with the look in your eyes, and he still can’t to this day. When you call him to ask if he wants to come to a party with you? He’s out the door before you tell him the location. When you suddenly have the urge to watch Barbie movies from your childhood? He brings the popcorn and even sings along to some of the songs he knows the words to. You were there for every one of his races before he got the opportunity to travel around the world to drive on the same tracks his brother and even the legends in the sports did. He came to every one of your ballet recitals until you graduated, and he was kind enough to buy you a bouquet of your favourite flowers each time. Although this might be the situation, the relationship you and Arthur have are based on equal grounds – meaning that you love and adore him just as he does you. It’s one of relationships you value the most in your life, the two of you having each other’s back since a very young age, and it is a relationship that you don’t ever want to lose. So, when the time came for both of you to move out of your parents’ houses, it came as no surprise for anyone that you two decided to move in together. Arthur wanted to spend his free time, when he wasn’t racing, with you as much as possible, and you were just happy to be with your best friend.

Though he’s always been protective over you and it is nothing new, Arthur can’t help but worry every time you go out on a date with a new guy. In reality, he knows you and Patrick have been going out for a while. You’ve told him about Patrick a few times when you called him when he was away for races, and he’s met the guy, but there’s a feeling he just can’t seem to shake off.

“Are you sure you want to go on this date?” Arthur asks behind the door to your bedroom.

You groan when the earring you’re trying to get stuck in your hair. “For the millionth time, Arthur, I’m sure.” You check yourself in the mirror for the last time before grabbing your handbag and opening you door to come face to face with a worried face. “Why are you so stressed over this?” You ask him, rummaging through the handbag in your hand to find your lipstick.

“I’m not stressed, poupette.” doll. Arthur scoffs, watching you with a stern look on your face. “I’m just making sure you’re feeling up to going out tonight.”

“I’m feeling fine, ma moitié, my other half, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure him with a sweet smile on your face while playfully patting his chest. “Stop acting like this, you look like your mother.”

“Fine, then, you look like my mother.” You shrug as Arthur rolls his eyes. Loud cackles coming from the living room suddenly grabs both of your attention, making you smile even wider. “Lorenzo, Charles, hi!”

The two brothers sitting in your living room gives you bright smiles and Hellos. Charles gives you a glance, eyebrows raised as he asks, “Aren’t you going to be cold without a jacket?”

“You’re not taking a jacket?” A voice exclaims from behind, making you roll your eyes as you point towards Arthur with the tilt of your head.

“You happy?” You ask while raising your eyebrows. “A jacket doesn’t go with my dress.” You explain, expectantly looking at the older driver as you open your arms and pointing to the dress.

“Uh, sure, Y/N.” Charles nods in thought.

Lorenzo hits the back of his brother’s head lightly, shaking his head towards him as he speaks to you. “I think you look lovely, have a good night.”

“Thank you, Enzo!” You beam, walking towards the front door as you yell. “Arthur I’m leaving, don’t wait up!” At the mention of his name, Arthur comes running towards the front door, reminding you that you can call him at any point during the night if you feel uncomfortable, which in return you assure him you’ll be fine and leave after giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He sighs deeply as he watches you leave the apartment, and only realises both of his brothers watching him with funny expressions after he closes the door and turns back with the jacket still in his hands. “What?”

“So,” Charles begins when all three of them are sitting on the couch in your living room, getting ready to play a round of FIFA. “How long have you been crushing on Y/N, again?”

Arthur groans, his face contorting up in a grimace. “Not this again, Charles.”

“No, he has a point.” Lorenzo mumbles, siding with his brother. “You’ve had a crush on her since you were seven, Arthur.”

“Exactly!” Charles exclaims, pointing to Arthur excitedly. “Why haven’t you done something about it yet?”

“Because she is my best friend, you idiots.” Arthur shakes his head, choosing to focus on the game which just started on the screen instead of insistent look Charles and Lorenzo give him. “And, stop saying I have a crush on her.”

Charles lets out a disapproving sound as he, too, turns towards the game. “Friends don’t look at each other like that.”

“We look each other normally.”

“You look like you want to make love to her every time you look at her.” Charles shrugs, making both his older and younger brother turn to him with disgusted looks on their faces.

“Charles!” Arthur complains. “No!”

“Please don’t ever use the words 'make love' in the same sentence as Arthur and Y/N.” Lorenzo begs, grabbing the bridge of his nose.

“Fine.” Charles shrugs, as he takes the opportunity to shoot his first goal. “But you can’t deny the fact that your overprotectiveness over Y/N doesn’t stem from your feelings for her. You’ve always been that way and it’s impossible for you to not feel something more for her.”

Arthur frowns, not because he is losing by the third minute of the game, but because of Charles’ words. “We’ve been friends since we were babies, Charles, of course I’m protective over her.”

“Which is understandable.” Lorenzo tries to reconciliate.

Charles lets out another disapproving mumble. “So you’d be okay with me asking her out?”

“Excuse-moi?” Excuse me? Arthur looks at his brother, appalled. “You’re going to do what?”

“Ask her out, Arthur. Would you be okay if I asked her out?” Charles repeats himself in a nonchalant manner, scoring another goal.

“Of course not!” Arthur cries out. “Why would you ask her out anyway? She’s seeing Patrick.”

Charles shrugs noncommittally. “She might break things off with him. You know, I always had a feeling she had a crush on me.”

“Charles.” Lorenzo scolds his younger brother.

However, Arthur is busy going through every single interaction you’ve had with Charles over the years; trying to find some actuality to his brother’s words. He pauses the game to turn towards his brothers, his eyes angry as he looks at Charles with a locked jaw. “No, you cannot ask out my best friend, you porc!” pig.

“Why?” He asks, with a fake innocent look on his face.

“Because, firstly, she is not a pawn you can use to prove something to me in some messed up game. And, two, she is mybest friend, my roommate and my–” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he knows how he would end the sentence if he would – which makes him think for a moment that his brothers just might be right.

“Okay, then.” Charles concedes, unpausing the game and taking advantage of the confused state Arthur is in to score, yet, another goal.

Though the game is going on, Arthur can’t seem to focus on it because he is too busy thinking about you, and whether he’s been in love with you his entire life.

It’s a couple weeks later when Arthur walks through the doors of the ballet studio you work at. He noticed over the few weeks that you’ve been down ever since you’ve stopped seeing Patrick, so he wanted to surprise you. He greets the old receptionist who works out in the front, giving her one of the tulips he got for you on his way there. When he gets in front of the classroom you usually teach in, he watches you with the kids as a soft smile find its way onto his face. He watches as you fix the techniques of some of the girls who are struggling, but instead of appearing upset, they are smiling as they try their best to fix their postures. When you move towards the old stereo on the corner of the room, he knows that the class is about to end – because something you do at the end of every class is letting the student dance freely to the music on the radio without giving them instructions. He watches as one of the smaller boys in the class shyly approach you, motioning you to bend to his height with his hand and then whisper something in your ear. You talk for a while, and he watches as the boy leaves with a smile on his face, which wasn’t there before, after giving you a hug and a small bouquet of flowers. Arthur waits until the class is over and all the kids have left the small studio to walk in.

“I was wondering if you offered any private lessons?” He asks with a boyish smile on his face.

You turn towards him, fast, when you hear your voice. Laughing as you cross the room and throw yourself into his waiting arms. “You couldn’t dance even if Marianela Núñez gave you dance classes herself, Turo.”

“Well I don’t need classes from her,” Arthur rolls his eyes. “All I need is you.”

You purse your lips, trying not to smile too widely, at the hidden meaning behind his words – the one which you somehow convince yourself that you’re imagining ever being there. Lightly leaning your head against Arthur’s chest, you begin talking. “You’re awfully sweet today, did you know that?”

He presses a light kiss onto the crown of you head, mumbling in thought. “Well, I missed you because I was alone at home all day. So I thought I’d come surprise you.” Pulling away slowly, he gives you the bouquet of tulips he is holding. “Speaking of which.”

“They look like the ones you used to get me after my recitals!” You squeal, taking the bouquet from his hand and inspecting it closely. “I love them, Arthur, thank you.”

“I’m glad you liked them, poupette.” He smiles. “Although, it seems that I have some competition today.”

You smile and shrug at the mention of the other bouquet sitting next to your bag. “Oh, that’s Leon. Some of the older kids at school’s been bothering him because he’s taking ballet classes.”

“You made him smile,” Arthur recalls, one of his hands cupping your cheek, which makes you look up to him. “Probably made his day, too.”

“I hope so.” You tell him, honestly. “He seem to like the classes; I would hate to see him leave just because of bullies at school.”

“You are a very good teacher, you know that?” Arthur murmurs, watching as a rosy colour takes over your cheeks.

“Stop it.” You huff, trying to push him off of you in a faux attempt. “Did you come here to make me blush, ma moitié?”

He shakes his head. “No, no. I thought we could go on a walk? At the marina, before it gets dark.”

You pretend to think for a moment, but smile, nonetheless. “Can we also get burgers?”

Arthur tries to profess his feelings for you when the two of you go on your ‘date’, he really does. When he sits down and thinks about it, rationally, he can convince himself that you have feelings for him, just the way he does for you. He can see it in the way you glance up at him every time he makes a joke, or the way you lean into his touch every time he touches you, which is a lot. He thinks he sees something every time you end up too close to each other; even convinces himself that perhaps you are expecting a kiss with the way your eyes slide to his lips a couple of times. But every time he tries to force himself to kiss you or tell you how he feels, an apprehensive doubt takes over his entire brain, somehow convincing himself otherwise, that doing so would only end up in you two getting completely messing up your friendship.

There’s also a part of his brain which consistently reminds him that it is Charles you have feelings for and not him. He doesn’t have a reason why he came to this conclusion; you’ve never explicitly told him about having feelings for his older brother, but there’s a part of him that still clings to Charles’ words – even though he didn’t actually mean anything by them. So as any person his age, who is going through what he’s going through, he takes a step back to observe. It all starts when the two of you go out for grocery shopping. It’s not a common occurrence that Arthur accompanies you, mainly because he is on the road most of the time, but he tags along because “He doesn’t want you to carry the bags on your own.” The two of you are busy fighting over cereal when you run into Charles, who provides a solution by offering that you buy both of the boxes. While you tell him it is probably the only way you and Arthur are going to agree on the fact, he is too busy picking apart every part of the interaction to see whether there could be any possibility of you having any feelings for his brother. The worst of them come a few weeks later, when Arthur and Charles come back from a race. All four of you, including Lorenzo, are seated at your dining table, enjoying takeover pizza when Charles announces that he started to see a girl. You all congratulate him, but after the conversation dies down, Arthur notices a familiar look of longing in your eyes. And that’s when he realises that you have feelings for Charles, and not him, and he absolutely needs to get over his feelings for you before it blows up in his face.

A couple of weeks later, one of his friends from racing invite you to a party. Arthur follows you, of course, because he doesn’t want you to go alone. He know it’s a terrible idea, though, once he sees you in the dress you chose for the party. It’s feels as if it’s impossible for him to keep his eyes (or his hands) off of you. He manages to let out a strangled answer when you ask him if you look okay, “You look good, Y/N.” The smile you give him return is so sweet, that he suddenly remembers that he should schedule an appointment with his dentist when he has the time. Though he doesn’t manage to convince you to take a jacket with you, he picks up his own as a precaution. The party is in full swing by the time the two of you arrive, which you light-heartedly scold him because the two of you are late. He considers apologising at first, but when he sees the smile on your lips, he just lets you drag him towards the bar without any objections.

“What do you want to drink?” You ask him, leaning over the bar to take a look at the limited menu. You know he wouldn’t want to drink if he was driving the two of you back home, but since you took an Uber to the night club, Arthur decides to drink as well.

“I’ll have tequila.” He answers after looking at the menu thinking about it for a second, and then turns to you. “You want to do shots?”

“Yes, please.” You nod, giving him your ‘prettiest’ smile. “Five?”

“Three.” He shakes his head and gives you a stern look. “And no mixing alcohols, either.”

You pout as you watch him order your drinks, your arms crossed over your chest pushing your breasts together. “You’re no fun.”

Arthur’s eyes fall down to your chest for a moment but he promptly fixes his gaze up to yours, as he places his hand on your hip to draw you close to him. He leans down towards you to whisper in your ear, “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

You purse your lips, choosing to play with the buttons on his shirt as a distraction. “We haven’t gone out to party in a while, sue me for wanting to have fun.”

“We will have fun.” Arthur contends as his thumb starts drawing circles on your hipbone. “Just not by doing something which will cause you to wake up hungover tomorrow.”

You give him a sarcastic smile. “Hm, mon chevalier en armure brillante.” my knight in shining armour. You turn to the bartender who brings over your drinks. “Thank you.”

Arthur eyes the bartender up and down, his look over quickly morphing into a side-eye once he realises where his eyes are looking at. He somehow pulls you closer to himself, caging you between himself and the bar, and lifts your chin up with two of his fingers to gaze into your eyes. “Be good, baby,” He tests. “Honey.” He warns.

“I am always good.” You counter, eyebrows furrowing in confusion because of his sudden possessive streak. “Are you okay?”

He waits until the bartender is tending to other customers to answer your question, his voice is in a lower octave but still somehow audible to you over the loud music in the club. “He was looking at your chest, poupette.”

“My boobs look great in this dress.” You reply while shrugging, the aloof look in your face making Arthur frown. “You didn’t need to act like a caveman, you know. The poor guy was probably scared.”

“Well, it’s too late now.” He replies, aloof, and downs one of his shots. “Are we doing this or not?”

It’s a bad idea, after all, tequila shots. Because after you’re done with the first three, you somehow convince Arthur that you need more, which means the both of you end up drinking six shots in the span of half-an hour. The bright side of this situation is that you convince Arthur to dance with you on the dancefloor, which he wouldn’t have done if he was sober. At some point throughout the night the two of you end up getting separated, which has you going around the night club looking for Arthur. You decide to ask some of his friends he introduced to you earlier, who tell you that he’s probably out taking some fresh air. He’s by himself outside of the club, leaning against a wall when you find him.

“What are you doing here all alone?” You ask him, tilting your head sideways to take a good look at him.

“It’s quieter out here,” Arthur shrugs, opening his arms and motioning you to come closer. “You’re going to freeze.”

You find yourself in his arms in record time, not that you could say no to his hugs anyway, his sway making you frown. “Are you okay, Turo?”

He smiles lazily at the nickname as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m drunk, ne devrait probablement pas conduire.” probably shouldn't drive.

“It’s okay, I’ll order an Uber.” He keeps his arms around you as you busy yourself with your phone, entering the address of your apartment.

Just like at the bar or when you were waiting for the Uber to arrive, Arthur doesn’t let you go completely when you’re in the backseat of the car. He makes you wear his jacket before you get into the car, though the oversized clothing doesn’t stop him from managing to make contact with your skin. He has a hand on your thigh, which is exposed because your dress keeps riding up. You make sure to keep an arm around him when you stumble through the door to your apartment.

You tell him to wait for you in his room and that you’ll be right over after you take your heels; however, he responds by throwing you over his shoulder as he walks through the corridor which leads up to his room. “Arthur, you’re drunk, put me down!”

“This doesn’t count as drunk driving.” He provides as an excuse, only putting you down when he enters his room – thankfully without any accidents.

You sit on his bed to take of your heels just as he jumps onto it, making it teeter because of his movements and makes you laugh at him. Shrugging off the jacket he gave you, you walk towards his closet to hand up the garment before the two of you forget about it. Arthur watches you move around his room with dazed eyes, trying very hard not to laugh when he sees you struggling with the hangers and cursing under your breath. His eyes move down your body when you kneel to get to the last drawer to get out a pair of sweatpants for him, which makes him silently groan at the sight. You walk towards him when you get out the sweats and a shirt for him to change into, poking his stomach to make him sit up straight. “Take off your shirt.”

“Are you trying to get me naked?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips. “At least take me out to dinner first.”

“I cook you dinner all the time, Arthur.” You drawl, holding out the clothes for him to take.

He takes them while mumbling, “And I try my best to eat and enjoy all your attempts.”

“Casse toi, go away, asshole.” You snap, starting to walk out of the room.

“Where are you going?” He calls out.

You scoff, calling out back at him over your shoulder. “To get you water and Advil, you better be changed by the time I’m back or I’m putting you under the cold shower.”

He is, thankfully, changed by the time you get back with a glass of water and the painkillers you promised, You place them onto his nightstand, and face him. “Off to bed, you go.”

“Stay here tonight?” He asks you, but his voice is devoid of his previous playfulness.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, chéri.” You press a kiss against his cheek and then, feeling bold, you press another kiss to the beauty mark right above the corner of his lips. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night, no matter how hard he tries to fall asleep. He keeps trying to convince himself to go to sleep, telling himself that the quicker he does, the quicker he’ll see you in the morning, but he is unable to do so. At some point in the night, he finds himself slipping through your door. He ends up slipping under your covers too, and pulls you against his chest, causing you to stir in your sleep as you cuddle his side.

“Go back to sleep, honey.” He whispers as he closes his eyes, and he finally drifts off to sleep when he finally has you in his arms.

You’re sleeping on top of him when he wakes up the next morning with his face buried in your hair. Your closed eyes and even breathing indicates that you’re still asleep, which causes Arthur to do his best to stay still not to wake you up. He soaks up every moment of it until your eyes flutter open and you let out a low whine, asking, “Why are you in my bed? How’d you get here?”

“I sneaked in.” He replies, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning, baby.”

“I’m loving the new nicknames; baby, honey?” You mumble, nuzzling your nose against his jaw. “Why’d you sneak in?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He confesses with a strained look on his face, and then he announces. “You’re not my girlfriend.”

You pick up your head so quickly, you think you’re going to break your neck. “I’m aware of that fact, Arthur.” You manage to get out in a clipped voice.

“And I should probably be thinking about protecting our friendship first, but I have to say this even though you have feelings for my brother.”

“Your brother?” You look at him with your mouth agape. “You think I have feelings for your brother? Lorenzo? He’s like my brother!”

He’s taken aback by your question. “No- not Lorenzo! Do you have a crush on Lorenzo?”

“No! You idiot, why would I have feelings for Lorenzo?” You ask him as you scramble to get off of him, letting yourself fall to the bed and pick up your pillow to hit Arthur over the head with. “I don’t have feelings for either of your brothers, other than being friends, you disgusting pig!”

“You don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks you tentatively which earns him another hit on the head with the pillow. “Okay, would you please stop that?”

“No, I don’t have feelings for Charles, either! Oh my god, Arthur, what is wrong with you?” The look you give him reflect how much you’re hurt, your fingers occupy themselves with the edge of the pillowcase as you ask, “Do you honestly think I’d be in bed with you like that if I had feelings for your brother?”

He’s careful as he asks, “…No?” He lets out a frustrated groan as he pushes himself to get to a standing position. “I don’t know what to think, anymore. I like you so much that somehow you’ve taken over my entire brain!”

“You… like me?” You ask him, breath hitching in your throat.

“No.” Comes his reply.

“So, you don’t like me?”

His hands grasp the roots of his hair. “No, I adore you, I am utterly infatuated by you, I am so besotted by you that every moment of my waking days are filled with the thoughts of you, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I even think about you when I’m on the track–”

“Arthur, breathe.” You warn him, your hands quickly going over his to try and get them off.

“You really don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks in a small voice. You answer him by shaking your head, which prompts him to ask, “Then why were you sad when he announced he was seeing someone?”

“He told me you’d confess your feelings to me before he ever found someone to date for himself.” You shrug, the corners of your mouth dipping as if you’re trying to keep tears at bay. “I guess I somehow made myself believe you would.”

“Baby–” He stops himself. “Honey, please don’t cry.” He reaches over you to wipe away some of the stray tears that have escaped your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I am stupid.”

“Very much so, yes.” You agree with him as you lean against his touch. “Though, I’m surprised you didn’t notice me flirting with you over the past year.”

“You’ve been flirting me for a year?” He asks you, baffled.

You fix him with an unamused look. “Do you think I go around talking about my boobs with everyone?”

“You better not be.” He scoffs as he draws you closer to him.

“I just might do so if you don’t do something about it.” You egg him on without changing the expression on your face.

You squeal as Arthur picks you up and gently throws you down on the bed, quickly changing his position to hover over you as he presses kisses all over your face. “Mine,” He announces. “Mine, my girl.”

“I like the sound of that,” You breathe out. “But I liked the others more.”

“Which ones?” He asks while letting his finger trace over the outline of your lips.

“Baby, honey, I don’t even know what you were trying to say.” You giggle.

“Mine.” He whispers. “I was trying to say that you’re mine.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #arthur leclerc smut #arthur lecler fluff

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undercoverpena · 9 months

Text

ix. you’re the bright and golden sun

javier peña x f!reader | chapter nine of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: angst, sadness. goodbyes. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love. pls don't be mad at me ✨ wordcount: 3.2k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Compared to the official first morning the two of you shared a bed, the reason why neither of you have risen today is different—even if, on appearances, it is similar.

Your legs are tangled with his. Your body is curled, pressed as close as it can be to his side. The two of you are awake, both silent—something Javi is aware is rare for the two of you.

Unlike the morning when he tried to learn every inch of you, today, he’s all about savouring every other part of you instead.

The way you smile, the way your laugh blooms across your face before it meets his ears. Plus, how you feel against him—from the warmth of your skin to the steady rise of your chest.

He doesn’t rise from the sheets to even wash his face, out of fear of signalling the imminent countdown to begin. The one which has been ticking the entire time, but now clangs louder as it gets nearer to the time he needs to drop you at the airport.

Javi especially doesn't want to move while the air is tinged with sadness—all heavy, pressing down on the two of you under the sheets. His thumbs had already made quick work of some strays tears when you'd first awoken, them sliding around your smile as you battled mixed feelings.

Because he was here now, but tomorrow he wouldn't be. Your words, not his.

You had said other things, like morning baby, and several seconds later, asking if he slept okay. But, once the tears had been wiped, the two of you just lay curled together.

Now he’s just tracing his fingers up and down your soft skin, doing so in the hope he’ll be able to remember the feel of it later when he’s without you.

Words aren’t usually his problem. He’s normally able to fill heavy silences and always knows what to say. It’s the one skill he’s proud to have sharpened in Colombia—when most people had seen him as the enemy. But, he has no words for this.

You do, though.

“I… I don’t want to go,” you whisper.

It wounds him, nips at his skin and plummets something to his feet. He hides it. Turning his head, pressing an intentional kiss to your forehead, lingering there, chin hovering over your head.

Because he doesn’t want you to either, and he’s unsure if he should say that—could say that.

Closing his eyes, he chooses not to open them. Just for a minute. Allowing himself the luxury of living in the fantasy playing on the back of his lids. The one where this is just a weekend away, that you’ll be going back with him and that your case will be packed with both his and your things.

Instead, when he opens his eyes to reality, he just finds the room basked in muffled light. The curtains blocking out the outside world, as he wishes he could take your hands in one of his, cup your cheek and tell you to come back with him.

(Because now I've had you, how am I meant to let you go?)

Swallowing, he smooths out his feelings—disguises them behind nothingness. For your sake.

“I know,” Javi replies. Allowing a thousand other things to die on his tongue.

He knows you have things you need to return to, a job. A life you’ve crafted for yourself and the one you’ve allowed him into. How you have dreams, the same as he once had—that you have responsibilities and an apartment, all things that aren’t easy to get up and leave.

But you’re looking at him, head-turning, tilting up, and he’s bathed in beauty, affection and sorrow, all at once.

Briefly, Javi thinks of the women he’s met before you. The ones in Colombia who were either in the same place they were before they met him, or worse. The ones who he made promises to, but barely could keep.

Going tense, he's aware his jaw has tightened—replaying how his actions had put them in harm's way—feeling your hand slide up his chest to his chin. Finger and thumb just circling, confusing swirling in the pools of jumbled feelings.

"You okay?"

And he can't explain, can he? While he knows his selfishness won’t bring a fury of shit to your door, it won’t be kind. Being with him will add weight to your shoulders, when they are already carrying so much. Javi only wants to remove some of it, then add to it.

So he swallows his wishes, and lets the words fall to his stomach. Allows them to swirl in last night's alcohol and pizza.

"Yeah, baby. Just gonna miss you."

You seem to swallow, eyes filling with water for the second time in the last hour. Something unlodging, churning—

“I want to seeyourranch.”

It comes out scratchy, like your voice needs clearing as you re-look at him. Now all wide-eyed—as though surprised how you had even sounded.

“Let me try that again,” you say, clearing your throat and offering a half-smile. “I would love to see your ranch.”

And, fuck he wants that too.

He sees it, imagines it. Immediately thinks of you wandering the fields as he points out the animals that cause him the most havoc. You’ll twirl in the tall grass, staring at him—looking every bit a dream come true—and then you’ll whisper to the animals, helping them further undermine him with a smirk. Javi could show you where he hung out as a kid and the places he appreciates now that he’s older, where he talks to you from and where he sat when you first texted—his usual spot for the crossword.

There would be so much for your eyes to take in, he could drag it out for a week. Another whole week of you, of him—a small amount in the grand scheme of forever, but he’d take it. He’d take whatever he could be allowed.

Leaning his head on yours, he blinks back the water, trying to build in his own. “You just tell me when, cariño. I’ll roll out the red carpet.”

Sighing, full of contention, he feels your palm Slide Over his chest, fingers drawing something. “Could meet your dad.”

“He’ll love you.”

He watches as you lift up, smile flowering—earlier sadness sunsetting as you begin to grow. Face all illuminating, eyes twinkling like stars.

“Yeah?”

Nodding, he runs his fingers over your cheek, loosely holding your chin. “Pretty sure he already does.”

“He doesn’t know me.”

“Neither did I, and I’m pretty sure I was already head over heels for you before I got here.”

Scrunching your nose, eyes glancing down, he feels your fingers lightly stroke his chest. “You don’t have to keep flattering me. You already got me.”

He waits a beat.

Lets it thicken—your statement—the confession.

Because while he knows what was said last night, how the two of you cemented it, he’s not sure he’ll tire of hearing it.

You want to be his, even miles away.

Lifting your chin ever so slightly, Javi stares into your eyes and hopes that he can burn the words in as much as he does as he begins to speak them.

“Never gonna stop telling you how great you are, cariño.”

“One day, you might.”

Shaking his head, he lowers his face, nose brushing yours. “Might. Probably won’t.”

He spots it, the clouded shadow trying to stop your rays from shining—all full of question, and doubt. Caused by scars from previous lovers who didn’t know what a diamond they had.

“How…” your eyes drop, swallowing. “How can you be so sure, Javi?”

The answer comes to him immediately: because you’re like no one else I’ve ever met.

A second appearing barely a second later: you’re like nothing I’ve ever come across.

The last explodes over the two of them like fireworks: I’ve never felt how I feel for you, for anything else.

He opts for something in the middle, lifting your eyes back to him. “Because I’ve not stopped thinking about you since that first text. And fuck, baby. Outside my ma and pops, outside of a lead or my old job, I’ve never fuckin’ had that. Not about anything, or anyone, before.”

For the second time this trip, he’s watching you fight with your case. The seams all threatening to split and spill, your jacket removed, thrown to the side of you as you continue your wrestling.

He doesn't admit that he finds it cute that you're trying to do it alone.

Especially when he knows you've added to the suitcase's load since you've been here. The empty retail bags they were once in, shoved haphazardly in the bin as grey clouds cast shadows across the room.

Lifting your face, he spots that your forehead is peppered with beads of sweat, his arms folding, leaning against the wall—waiting to be invited to help. Again.

“Don’t even fucking say it, Peña.”

Biting back a smirk, he arches his brow. “No, he dicho nada.”

Your eyes shoot him a glare as he smirks, watching you blow out a puff of air before leaning back on your heels, defeatism sketched into your features.

“Okay. Please help me.”

Just like some days ago, he kicks off from the wall. Watching you move to push down as he settles on his knees to help, the zip being more forthcoming—oddly—as it slides around. It catches in part, your fingers only occasionally needing to prod things in, and soon enough, it’s shut, closed—all final.

“There we go.”

You smile, all infectious, corrosive in how it melts earlier sadness. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably a lot. I mean, except zip up your case.”

It’s instant, the way your smile shifts into a smirk. “For someone called charmer, you’ve not been as articulate the last few days.”

“Think it’s due to the company I’m keeping.”

Your eyes roll, teeth showing as the edges of your mouth cut into your cheeks—not a smile, nor a smirk, something else entirely. “There he is, the flirt.”

“Only for you, baby.”

Standing, you offer him a hand. Both knowing he doesn’t need it, very much capable himself—even if his knees groan, but he slides his palm in any way. Feeling your fingers tighten, gripping him as he stands too.

“How are you so handsome, Javier Peña?”

Warmth runs up his spine, liking how you’re looking at him—how you say handsome and his name all in one sentence.

Licking your lips, you don’t let go of his hand, but you step over the suitcase. “Still can’t believe you want to give this a go.”

Fingers find your cheek, head leaning forward, closing the gap marginally to you. Taking in the way your eyes remain fixed on him, the scent of your perfume—all of it, as he whispers:

“I’d be an idiot to let you go, baby.”

Biting your lip, you seem to sigh. Silence thickening, his thumb slowly beginning to stroke, as you reply, “Yeah. I suppose you would.”

“Now, who’s being a flirt?”

Slowly, you wrap your arms around his neck, his own hands coming around your waist—letting his palms spread out across your back. It feels like home, a place he doesn’t want to ever be from.

All of it is stamped with a smile that is more bright and golden than the sun, and fuck does he not suddenly feel like he's illuminating when he kisses it.

Javi drowning in it, not wanting to come up for air as you pull him close. Just so he can try and keep a piece of it. Just until the next time he gets to bask in it, never mind kiss you.

You don't slide your hand from his the entire drive. Your other hand trying to find a station you approve of, nose scrunching at some of the choices you come across.

Periodically, the corner of his eyes catches how your teeth are making messy work of your bottom lip, your leg bouncing uncontrollably. He wishes, more than anything, he was good with words.

Ones that would reassure, you remind you that it'll be okay, that he’s yours—that they won’t wait long, they’ll make it work.

Convince you that he means it—because he does.

More than he's wanted something in a long time. Even if in his chest, there’s a little flutter of doubt. Sensibility trying to ruin things, reminding him that there won’t always be hands to help the ranch at the drop of a hat—that his pop needs him. That you have work, a life in a place he doesn’t know the foggiest about.

Instead, he banishes it. Forces it into the corner of him that welcomes intrusion, and he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss so full of longing and affection, he hopes it runs down your wrist and slams directly into your heart.

"Departures is that way," you announce, voice soft, brittle.

His mouth presses another kiss to your palm as he signals, hating that the drive has been so short. Despising it even more that he finds a parking spot with ease—that your hand slides from his and your legs jump out of the truck before he’s said a word.

You barely look at him, staring around the airport until you fall into a step beside him to the doors. Each one he takes, Javi hopes he’ll feel your hand in his—palm to his, fingers looping between his.

So when you do (your grip tight, intention clear), he loops his arm around you with your hand in his—forcing you close, keeping you there.

Each step in front of the other forces the building to loom closer, the walk short—too short—another thing added to the tally of what he hates. But he tries not to focus on it, linger, instead letting his feet come to a stop close to the doors with yours. One so you don’t have to walk far, but not enough for a larger audience.

Giving you the handle of your case, your chest seems to lurch as it rises and falls. Your teeth return to bite down on your lip, rocking forward and back on the skin as you begin to nibble all over again—a forced smile trying to show.

But, it barely reaches your cheek. Never mind your eyes.

His mouth opens, but you wrap your fingers around his forearm. Silencing him. A look in your eyes that could sound like a well-versed chorus of assurances, a speech of how it won't be long and revelations of how you feel, but they don't fall.

Instead, you whisper, “I know. I do.”

He swallows, nodding as you step closer, body almost flush with his.

“So, just kiss me—like you’re gonna see me again, yet in a way that’ll last me until I can hear your voice tomorrow.”

There was no asking him twice. His mouth latching to yours, lips capturing unsaid words as he embraces the way your body curls into him. All comfortable and right. His palm cupping your cheek, deepening it all, stealing important air from your lungs and using it to help him breathe.

His mind full of you. An array of memories shoots off like fireworks as you cling to him, and him to you.

And he never wants it to end.

Even less so when you whimper against him, vibrating it down his throat to his chest, where it mushrooms and grows. Filling a space otherwise empty, but now covered in feelings you've brought out in him: warmth, affection and care.

Then, the two of you part, mouth first—lips ghosting over the air as your eyes open with his, able to see the reflection of his growing smile in your pupils.

“Hi..."

Grinning, he presses a kiss to your nose. "Have a safe flight, and text me—“

“I know. I know. As soon as I land,” you say as his forehead presses against yours. “Please, have a safe drive. Don’t flip off anyone just because you miss me so much.”

Smirking, he laughs—all low and soft. “I’ll try.”

“Okay.”

Sighing, you unweave your fingers from his neck and hair, placing a shaky one on the handle. Body pausing, waiting—and he doesn’t move, can’t.

“I… I don’t think I can be the one to walk away.”

Widening his eyes, his hands find his hips. “You really gonna make me turn my back to you?”

Scrunching your nose, in that adorable way that you do, you slowly nod.

Taking a step back, he brushes his hair from his forehead. “Fuck me. Good job I like you, cariño.”

You smile, biting your lip again as he takes another backwards step, and another, before he slowly—full of pain and knotting in his stomach—he turns.

His footsteps heavy, wanting to turn back to you, run to you and pull you close one last time. Barely ten steps, maybe not even five. He could do it, turn, face you—

Javi doesn’t get the chance.

You do it instead.

Slamming into his back, arms around his waist, and he’s sure he hears the faintest sob. One he sees for himself when he’s able to turn, mouth finding yours, feeling wet on your cheeks as your lips messily meet his, a thousand things being said, but none discernable as he meets you with the same intensity.

It’s more than a see you soon. It’s a bunch of other things. A thank you, a goodbye, and…

“Just needed one more,” you whisper, fingers brushing his side and cheek simultaneously.

Nodding, he finds himself unable to speak. Instead, feeling you slowly let your fingers leave his cheek.

“See you soon, baby.”

Gulping back a lump, “Real soon. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Your hand raises, offering a little wave as you take steps backwards, before turning. His eyes are unable to leave you, watching with despair as you walk away from him—seeing now why you felt compelled to run.

Just watching, staring, as you grab your case—the one he just realised you abandoned—and he stuffs down the different words which had threatened to spill.

you left your jacket hermosa

I know baby. Means I have to see you soon to get it back, it’s my favourite.

You’re my favourite, too.

gonna make my head double and I won’t be able to fit in the ranch

Surprised it does already.

fuck I miss you

Fuck I miss you too, baby. So much.

one day though

One day. Until then, check my pocket.

Javi wipes his face, placing the phone on the dash as he moves your jacket from the seat next to him. The place it’s been the entire ride home, the soft scent of you blowing around the cabin—allowing him the feeble attempt at pretending you’re there.

He feels one pocket, finding nothing.

Moving to the next, his fingers brush paper, hearing it rustle and crinkle. He slowly pulls it out and finds it folded a thousand times over as he smirks and lies your jacket back on the seat.

He should know—before he begins unfolding it.

But it doesn’t dawn on him, not even as he does, until he sees it—a lump forming in his throat, a greater sadness landing on him.

Because there in his hands is the sign you made for the airport, his name scratched out in biro on paper.

And at the bottom, scribbled in a different pen:

His mouth opens, tongue sliding into his cheek as he struggles to swallow, and breathe, as a tear falls to his cheek. His head goes back against the headrest, mouth pinching the sides of his cheek as he closes his eyes—the other holding the paper open, thumb stroking it, your words.

Missing you. Desperately.

Completely.

Realising as the heavens open, the rain hammering down against his vehicle, blurring the ranch worse than his own water-filled eyes, that he’s in love with you.

And one day can't come soon enough.

dedicated to @guyfieriii who loves this as much as i. the title is from one of our joint songs, and while it isn't 00s, as soon as i heard it, i told her it gave me airport vibes, and this seemed the perfect one title. plus, she's my little angst queen, and if i can give her anything, i like to give her happy-sadness. rooftops and sharpies x

#javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic

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stars4gojo · 7 months

Text

I know it won’t work

Gojo x reader // established!relationship, angst, breakups & arguments, happy ending(???) // 849 words

You and Gojo have been unable to see eye to eye for a while now, talking to him feels like talking to a wall and you think he doesn’t want to try anymore.

And part of me wants to walk away till you really listen.

You stand in the kitchen of your shared apartment, mindlessly humming to yourself.

You pay no mind to your boyfriend who’s been mindlessly seated on the couch ever since he came home.

His usual energetic and loving demeanour switched with a more intense energy, he’s been grumbling under his breath since he walked in - you assumed he went on a long tough mission, nothing some cuddles and kisses couldn’t fix.

“Toruuu” you lovingly call out his name.

“What?” His brash tone replies back but you choose to ignore it.

“Dinner’s almost ready why don’t you go wash up?”

“I’m fine y/n don’t wanna eat.” He mumbled back.

You stop what you’re doing as you turn towards him, tilting your head in confusion as you read his expression.

“But I made your favourite.” You add, trying to convince him to eat the dinner you made with so much love and care.

He sighed agitatedly as he replied, “I’m not hungry.”

You put your lips in a tight smile as you went to wash your hands before cupping his face.

“Alright you big baby, let me help you wash off your wounds atleast?” You said in hopes of making him feel better to which he begrudgingly agreed to.

“I’ll tell you allllll about my day.” You spoke while little giggles escaped your mouth.

You make him sit back at the couch as you take his hands in yours, starting to carefully wipe the blood that’s on his hands.

“I made a new friend today in Uni.” You started as he hissed at the feeling of the wipes touching his wound.

“She’s new to my psychology class and she was really sweet, might go for coffee with her tomorrow.” You continued.

“Oh and funny story!” You added excitedly not noticing how annoyed and agitated your boyfriend kept getting.

“She didn’t have a pen so I gave her one of mine but she didn’t give it back and I am not sure how to ask her back it might get too awkw-“

“Grow a back bone!” You look up to your boyfriend who had very rudely just interrupted you.

“It’s just a pen ask her to give it back or get over it.” His blue eyes pierced into yours as he shoved your hand off of his.

You stood up as your eyes filled with tears, not knowing how to react to his sudden outburst of anger.

“I’m sorry Toru I didn-“ you started but were again quickly interrupted by Gojo.

“All you do is talk and talk and talk, why don’t you shut u-“ He paused his speech as he looked into your eyes that were now definitely spilling tears.

He sighed deeply before starting again, “No, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that.” But it was too late now.

“Toru you have no right to be mad at me for this!” It was your turn now.

“All you do is wake up before I’m awake and go off to work only to come home after I’m asleep, and the oh so lucky days where you’re home on time you’re in a sour mood and you take it all out on me.”

Your balls fisted in anger as you tried controlling your emotions.

“I will not be your scapegoat anymore, I am not the only person in this relationship. I want you to talk to me.” You added as your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“We are talking.” Gojo replied, venom dripping from his tongue.

“Are we Satoru?” You softly asked back.

“I don’t want to fight.” He admitted quietly as he looked away.

“Can’t we talk tomorrow?” He asked while rubbing his eyes in exhaustion.

“What if there’s no tomorrow Satoru? I can’t deal with this anymore, I don’t want to put everything into a relationship where you no longer try and make me feel like I’m talking to a wall.” You said as you flopped on the opposite couch to him.

“I’m trying my best y/n”

“What if your best is not enough for me?”

And to no surprise he had no reply

“Is this it then? You’re gonna give up on us? Just gonna walk away and throw away the last 10 years?” You questioned back.

“I don’t want to throw any of this away, I love you y/n” he replied back, the atmosphere becoming strangely calm.

“I’m going to bed, please be ready to talk like an adult tomorrow.” You whispered quietly as he watched your slumped figure walk to your shared bedroom.

He didn’t want it to end this way, you were his forever - his biggest supporter, his best friend and his first love but as he watched you stumble away, he knew he couldn’t do anything about it. He was the one who ruined it in the first place and you’ve been so quietly trying to make it work for the sake of it, picking up behind the mess he created. He loved you too much to give up on this - he knew that it was up to him to make it right now.

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absurdthirst · 4 months

Text

Unexpectedly Reunited {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: No Outbreak AU, cheating, infidelity, surprise reunions, flirting, mentions of loss of a child, seemingly unrequited love, past crushes, abandonment, fingering, vaginal sex, rougher sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), cum eating, feelings, miscommunication, angst, degrading comments

Comments: Running away to the Cape, you find someone you had never expected to see again. Joel Miller. The blast from the past manages to heal your broken heart and you learn where life has taken him to bring him here.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

"You motherfucker!" You yell at your boyfriend who is currently buried inside of the co-worker he told you to not worry about despite you discovering him in your bed after you decided to surprise him with lunch since he works at home. He scrambles, pulling out of Sienna and you shake your head, "it's over. Get your shit out of my apartment. Today." You shriek and he covers himself up with the blanket you got from your mom for your birthday.

"Baby please. Let me just-" He tries to explain but you cut him off.

"Today, Jason. Today!" You yell, spinning on your heel and you rush out of your apartment with tears in your eyes. You sob as you get into your car, the lunch abandoned in the kitchen and you're no longer hungry. You sit there for hours, watching from afar as Jason moves his stuff from your place and you call your mom to tell her what happened.

"I always told you he was a piece of shit, baby. He's an asshole. You're better off without him. Better to find this out now instead of later." She says softly. "Your aunt has that place on the Cape and she's in Italy for the next two weeks. Why don't you go there? Go relax and get out of town. Take time to get yourself together." She suggests.

The Cape, the idea has a certain appeal. Texas is currently hot, too hot, and you don’t want to be anywhere near your old group of friends and acquaintances. People that know Jason. People that might pity you, or secretly approve of him cheating on you. You imagine walking along the beach and letting the salty air seep into your skin. Maybe read a few books in a lounger and find some bar where you can just have a few drinks. Or, the house is nice, maybe you will just sit out on the deck and drink wine. “I guess. If I leave now, I could be there late tomorrow. Are you sure she won’t mind?”

Your mom snorts through the line and you can imagine her face. “Of course not. Get your bag packed and get on the road. The key is in a little box on the garage door. Combination to open it is 9-26-13.”

You sigh, watching as Jason closes the truck of the car with the last of his stuff. “Thanks mom, I’ll be on the road in twenty minutes. I don’t want to spend a night in that bed. I’m going to have to order another one.”

When you arrive at your aunt’s house; you are exhausted and waste no time showering and getting into bed. The emotional drain of the past 36 hours is too much and you take a nap. When you wake up, it’s late and you have some of the snacks you brought with you while on the road. You’ll go food shopping tomorrow. You eventually fall back asleep, eager to explore tomorrow which comes far too soon when you’re woken up by drilling. You startle awake, checking the clock to see it’s 7:30 am and you whine, rubbing your eyes as you shuffle out of the bed, ready to reprimand the asshole who is drilling next door.

“Goddamn header.” Joel grunts out a curse, taking his hand off the hammer drill he had been using to wipe the sweat that is rolling into his eyes. “Send me some fuckin’ lumber that’s straight and I’ll fix the goddamn thing.” High up on the scaffolding, he’s cursing everyone from the lumber distributor to himself for taking this job. It’s been a shit show and it doesn’t seem like anything is going to go his way today.

You wrap your robe around yourself and huff as you stomp outside, raising your hand to cover your eyes from the early morning sun as you look up at the scaffolding. “Excuse me!” You yell and Joel continues drilling. “Excuse me!” You yell again and the drilling continues. “Fuck me!” You scream and the drilling stops.

“That’s a mighty nice offer darlin’ but I barely know you.” Joel jokes as he removes his headset.

“Why the hell are you drilling at this time in the morning?” You yell at him and he sets the drill down so he can climb down the scaffolding to talk to you. You wait, tapping your foot impatiently.

“I was hired to do this job. I have a permit. I am starting early to avoid the rain this afternoon. Not that I have to explain myself to - wait…do I know you?” Joel asks, frowning as he removes his sunglasses to get a better look at you.

When it dawns on him who you are, his eyes widen and he murmurs your name. Never expecting to see you again. “Holy shit. What are you doing on the east coast?” He asks when he can speak again. The last time he had seen you was at his wedding. After that day, you had just….ghosted him, making him feel like your friendship had meant nothing.

As soon as he says your name you recognize him. “Joel? Joel Miller?” You gasp in shock. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the man that was your teenage crush. He was your next door neighbor and a lot older than you but you always had such a massive crush on him. You became friends after you got back from college to live with your parents again and that’s when you truly fell in love with him. Then he met Helen and you knew he would never feel the same way. Resigned to being his friend, you supported him but always secretly hoped he’d realize what was right in front of him. He didn’t and you ended up leaving town after watching him marry Helen on a beautiful summer day. He’s just as handsome. Shit, just as sexy. “I- this is my aunt’s house. You know the one who is a journalist.” You explain, “I- I came here to escape the Texas heat.” You lie, “what the hell are you doing here?” You ask, genuinely curious how a typical Texan like Joel is in the northeast.

Joel’s expression shutters, his eyes flattening slightly and he grunts. “Work.” He lies, having sensed you are lying too. You have puffy eyes, like you’ve been spending a lot of time crying, though you’re still just as beautiful as the last time he saw you. “Like I’m tryin’ to do now. But it’s a bitch and-“ he twists his neck towards the dark clouds rolling in from the west. “I want to get this sealed up before the rain starts.”

You nod, “I understand. Sorry for yelling. I just got in last night from Texas and I’m exhausted from driving nonstop. I didn’t expect the work to be done so early. I’m awake now, so carry on. I’m gonna get some coffee. Anywhere local you’d recommend?” You ask when his eyes meet yours once more and you are taken back by how handsome he is. Your memories did him no justice.

He feels bad for being rude, sighing slightly and wiping his forehead again. “Two blocks over there’s a dinner called The Fungus Among Us.” He tells you with a grin. “Vegan place, really into mushrooms, but they have great coffee. You just have to use their non-dairy creamers.”

The last person you expected to frequent a vegan cafe is Joel who used to enjoy platefuls of barbecue at the family cookouts back when you were younger and you chuckle, “you gone vegan on me?” You ask and he shakes his head, “no. Still love some ribs but I can appreciate good coffee.” You hum and he shrugs. “I’m gonna go get changed. You want me to bring you a coffee back?” You offer, wanting to make up for being rude.m

“I’m good.” He looks up towards the sky again. “Too fuckin’ hot for coffee up here.” He looks back down and smirks slightly. “Hurry up before you get wet. New England summer showers are no joke.”

You nod, “I’ll be fast. I, uh, I’ll see you around. It was great to see you again.” You wave awkwardly at him as he flips his sunglasses back down. You aren’t sure if he’s married or has kids or what his situation is so you don’t want to overstep by suggesting a reunion of some kind.

“See you around, sweetheart.” Joel says and you offer him a smile, “bye Joel.” You say as you head back into your aunts house to get ready.

He won’t deny that he watches you when you re-emerge from the large cottage next door, or as you walk down the street. His eyes follow you as he takes what he tells himself is a five minute break. He was rude to you. And the Joel you had known wouldn’t have done that. He sighs, twisting around and trying to pop his aching back before he glances at the cloud again. They are rolling in fast and he only has about twenty minutes to finish up for the day. “Shit, Miller, get to work.”

You return back with your coffee - a good recommendation from Joel - and you’re disappointed when you don’t see him working. You feel the droplets of rain and decide to have your coffee then go grocery shopping after the rain has come and gone.

****

The drilling happens a little later around 8:45am the next morning and you look out of the bathroom window to see Joel working on the house. He lifts his shirt up to wipe his face and you can’t deny that your jaw drops. He’s still as sexy as you ever thought he was but then you remind yourself that he’s married and you shake your head to clear your lust. You decide to walk to the coffee shop again and head outside just as Joel jumps from the last section of scaffolding. “Sure I can’t get you a coffee?” You ask him, “I’m gonna head over there now.”

“I think I owe you a drink, since I was kind of an ass yesterday.” Joel admits, shuffling slightly and wiping his hands on a work rag before tossing it down. “I’ve got a few minutes, can walk over there with you, if you want?” He leaves it up to you, knowing that you might not want to do anything more than be nice.

You offer him a smile, “I’d like that.” You say and he nods, grabbing his keys and he yells out to his partner to keep an eye on things. You walk along with him and you’re quiet for a minute or so before you ask “so how long have you lived here?”

It takes Joel a moment to think back and he sighs. “Fuck.” He snorts. “Nearly ten years? Hard to think about but I’ve not even seen you in nearly twenty-five.” He wants to ask why you just stopped talking to him and coming around after he had married Helen. He hadn’t even been able to tell you that she had been a few months pregnant because his wife had wanted to keep it silent until after the first trimester.

"Has it really been that long?" You shake your head, "I- wow. It feels like yesterday you were just getting married. Is Helen enjoying it here?" You ask, not noticing his lack of wedding band but you haven't really had a chance to look at his hands.

Joel snorts. “Helen left me when-” He breaks off and there’s that familiar ache in his chest at the thought of Sarah. “A year after we got married. Don’t know where she’s at, don’t really care, if I’m honest.” She had abandoned her child, something that he could never understand or accept. “What about you? Sure you’re married and happy, husband on a business trip and you decided to take a vacation?”

It’s your turn to snort, “no. No. I, uh, I haven’t been married. I - I walked in on my boyfriend fucking his coworker in my apartment so I told him to pack his shit and be gone by the time I get back. Decided to take a break to avoid the pity looks and whispers around town.” You confess, glancing down the street as you adjust your purse on your shoulder.

“Wow. You must have been with a real douche bag.” Joel scoffs. “I can’t believe anyone would be stupid enough to cheat on you. There’s no fucking way he’s right in the head.” He shakes his head and huffs. “Idiot. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear that. But that bastard didn’t deserve you.”

You offer him a self deprecating smile. “I appreciate you being pissed for me. I pretty much cried the entire way to the Cape. I- I thought he was gonna propose. I’m an idiot. I believed all his lies and I- I thought he was going to be the one.” You shake your head at your own stupidity. “Well, at least someone to spend the rest of my life with.”

“You’ll find someone better.” He predicts. “Someone who cheats on you isn’t worth your time. Or your tears.” Joel looks over at you and gives you a small smile. “Maybe you’ll find one of those romance story type guys here on the Cape.”

You chuckle, “who is already married or has more skeletons in his closet than a haunted house. I think I’ll accept the reality that I’m destined to be alone and I think I’m okay with that. It’s not too bad. Getting to do whatever you want without answering to anyone. Romance is - it’s just something they sell to give people hope.” You confess with a sigh, “I’ll stick to reading about it in novels.” You chuckle softly and turn into the coffee shop, about to open the door but Joel does a little jog to open it before you can. “Don’t lose hope. You never know who’s gonna appear.” He says and you bite your lip as you brush past him, knowing he’s the man you’ve always envisioned when you read those romance novels.

The inside of the cafe is trendy, quirky. It seems like a place where Joel would look completely out of place with his buttoned up shirt and jeans, heavy boots. No one has given him shit about it and been friendly, even though he stays away from a lot of their menu. “Have you tried the muffins? They are pretty good.”

You shake your head, “no. I had the chia pudding the other day.” You giggle when he wrinkles his nose. “The blueberry muffin sounds good.” You hum, crossing your arms, “and a latte. You seem like a black coffee kind of guy.”

“Only way to drink coffee.” Joel agrees with a smirk. He guides you to a table and pulls out a chair for you. “I know you probably like all those syrups and half pump venti shits.” He rolls his eyes, although he likes the way you sound when you snicker.

“I’m a vanilla girl.” You reveal and Joel raises his eyebrows playfully. “For my coffee order.” You clarify with a smirk and he walks over to the counter to order your drinks and he returns with a blueberry muffin for you. “You didn’t have to pay.” You shake your head and he shrugs, “to make up for the early morning wake up calls.” He explains and You offer him a soft smile, reaching out to touch his hand, “thank you. I- I’ve missed you, you know?”

“You missed me so much you just….disappeared?” Joel asks, wanting to know why. “I tried calling you a couple of times. Wanted you to come out with me and Helen to dinner. You just didn’t ever call me back.”

You sigh, withdrawing your hand. “I…it was complicated.” You glance around the coffee shop, feeling his eyes burn into you. “I couldn’t stay after you…I had to get out of town and figure out what I wanted. I’m sorry I disappeared but it was for the best. You had a new life…a wife. You didn’t need me hanging around.”

It’s not an answer that satisfies him, but from the set of your jaw, you won’t give him a proper explanation. “I- you missed a lot, obviously. I had wanted to tell you that Helen was pregnant. We weren’t announcing it before the ceremony.”

You swallow harshly, not realizing that he’s a father. “Did Helen…you have a - wow. That’s - I didn’t know. No one told me - my parents didn’t tell me anything. I asked them not to.” You finish with a murmur, shifting to sit back and look at Joel just as they call his name to get the coffees.

Joel stands up, happy to go get the drinks and muffins so he doesn’t have to show how that idea upsets him. Why does he care after twenty-five years? He shouldn’t. Bringing the tray over to the table, he sets it down and doles out the items quietly.

You bite your lip as you look at him, he’s broader than ever. He was gorgeous when he was younger and he’s still gorgeous with the grays scattered in his hair. “Is your kid in the Cape or elsewhere?” You ask him, wanting to change the subject.

Joel frowns slightly, looking down at his coffee. “No.” He tells you. “She- she died. Twelve years ago. It’s why I moved here. I couldn’t live in Texas anymore.”

Your brow furrows as you gasp softly. “Oh. Oh Joel. I’m so sorry. I- shit. Me and my big mouth. I’m so sorry. Oh God. That - that’s terrible.” You choke, squeezing the coffee cup in your hand as you see the devastation in his eyes.

“It was a long time ago.” The wound is still fresh and if it were anyone else, he wouldn’t even bring it up. But you had never met Sarah, you didn’t know how wonderful she was.

“I’m sorry Joel. I know that doesn’t mean shit when you endure that kind of pain but…I really am sorry.” You say and reach out to squeeze his hand again. “I understand why you left to come here.” You tell him and his dark eyes meet yours, clouded over with the pain of losing a child. “Do you…do you maybe want to come over for dinner sometime? Catch up properly? I meant what I said. I’ve missed you.”

His immediate response is to tell you no. That it wasn’t necessary, but he can’t get the words out. “Sure.” He figures it’s a nicety. That you are saying that and then you’ll politely avoid him.

You sip your coffee as he goes quiet. Joel was never one for small talk. “So have you got a wife or girlfriend here?” You ask after a few moments, wondering if that’s why he was hesitant to accept an offer to catch up over dinner.

“No, nothing like that.” He shakes his head, frowning slightly when he remembers Tess. He should have been better to her, but he ran out of time. “Not anymore,” he adds, looking back down at his cup. “So how long are you here?”

"Two weeks. Figured that was enough time for the dust to settle and for that asshole to get his shit out of my apartment." You sigh, looking down at the table before you flick your eyes up to meet his. "I really am sorry we lost touch. All I can say is it's complicated and too much time has passed to dig into it all again."

“Yeah.” Joel just shrugs. “It’s in the past.” He knows he’s changed a lot from the man you used to know. He’s harder, his heart is cold and most times people are wary of him. “People change, move on, whatever.”

You frown at his pessimism and you know he’s changed but he always used to be so playful and fun. Life has been hard for both of you, especially Joel. You finish your muffin and soon you’re walking back to your aunt’s house. “You wanna come for dinner tomorrow?” You offer, not wanting to end this interaction on a spur note.

“Sure.” He finds himself agreeing, not minding your company and he would love a meal he didn’t cook for himself. Or Ellie cooked. “Oh- uh, I should have told you. Can someone come with me?” He asks, not sure if you’d want a kid around.

You are surprised but don't ask who, wondering if he has a friend or something. "Uh, sure. Yeah. That's fine. Any allergies or things they don't like?" You ask, wanting to be sure before you plan what you want to cook.

“Nahhhh.” Joel snorts, shaking his head at the crazy things that Ellie has eaten. “She’ll eat anything. Nearly indestructible stomach, I swear.”

You are curious, barely able to swallow down the inquiries but you manage and offer him a smile, "sounds good. Wanna say seven?" You ask and he nods. You stand on your aunt's driveway and Joel rubs the back of his neck. "I'll see you tomorrow." He says and you rock on your heels, crossing your arms. "See you tomorrow, Joel." You smile and watch for a second as he spins on his heel and makes his way back to the neighbor's house.

****

“So whoooo are we having dinner with?” Joel rolls his eyes and ramps down the urge to bite back with something sarcastic. That would only make the girl more curious about who you are.

“She’s an old friend.” Joel explains, “she’s in town and I thought I might be good to not have to put up with your shit cooking for a night.” He reaches over and pulls on her ponytail, grinning when she scowls and slaps his hand away.

“Hey man, not my fault your cooking tastes like shit. You taught me.”

You wipe down your apron as you watch the water boil for the pasta. The doorbell rings and you take the apron off, making your way over to the door to open it to greet Joel and his mystery guest. You had purposefully avoided looking out of the windows this morning when Joel was working. You are shocked when you see a teenager with Joel, having convinced yourself it was another woman and he was trying to hint at it but you didn't pick it up.

“Woah. She’s a babe!” Ellie’s eyes widen and she sends Joel a smirk. “No wonder you didn’t talk about her. You gotta date, old man? Why the hell are you bringing me with you?”

Joel rolls his eyes and reaches up to smack the back of Ellie’s head. “Behave.” He warns her before apologizing to you. “Sorry. She’s feral. Not a goddamn manner in her body.”

You fluster at the girl's compliment and you look at Joel with a chuckle, "don't worry. I've had worse with my cousins and their kids." You promise and step aside so that he and the kid can enter. You tell her your name as she walks past you and she offers you a grin and tells you her name is Ellie. "Hope you like chicken parm." You hum as you shut the door behind you.

“I love anything that he didn’t cook.” She hooks her thumb over at Joel and smirks. “He thinks heating Chef Boy-r-dee is a good meal.” She tells you, knowing that Joel is shuffling in embarrassment and not caring a lick. She likes to bust his balls.

You chuckle, remembering how hopeless Joel was in the kitchen. He even called you up one night to ask you to rescue the meal he was trying to cook Helen for a date night. It had been hard to help but you would’ve done anything for him back then. Still would if you’re honest. You ask Ellie what she wants to drink when they enter the open plan kitchen. “Damnnn. This is a nice place you got here.” Ellie says and you shake your head, “it’s my aunt’s. I live in Texas.” You explain and Ellie glances at Joel.

“Texas, huh?” She says, raising her eyebrows and Joel ignores her.

“Yeah. Joel and I used to be neighbors.” You explain a little more.

“So you can tell me what he used to be like?” She asks conspiratorially. “Before he became so boring.”

You lean in conspiratorially towards Ellie. “He’s always been boring.” You whisper playfully and Joel rolls his eyes.

Ellie nods, “makes sense.” You chuckle and Joel huffs, biting his lip to smother his smirk.

“Joel has always been a good guy. Grumpy, but he has always done the right thing.” You say, “and he tries to let everyone think he’s a grumpy bastard but he’s actually got a good sense of humor.” You say and Ellie shakes her head, “he doesn’t laugh at my jokes!” She whines and you smirk, “oh he’s laughing. Just on the inside.”

“No, I’m not.” Joel grumps and huffs, trying to hide a smirk. He likes to bust on Ellie as much as she busts on him, just in different ways. If he tries to be too soft with the girl, she will shut down. “Hope it wasn’t too much trouble for dinner. We would have been good with pizza.”

You shake your head, “it’s nice to cook. I am usually so busy with work and my ex…he was a vegan which made it almost impossible to cook what I know but I love cooking. I’ve missed it. Hopefully it’s good.” You say and turn back to the stove to put the pasta on to cook. “You want a soda?” You ask Ellie, knowing Joel will want a beer. The teenager nods and you hand her a soda before handing Joel a bottle of beer. “Go sit at the table. Dinner will be right up.” You say as you set your glass of wine down.

“Ellie and I will clean up.” Joel offers. He might suck in the kitchen, but he knows how to clean up a mess and it wouldn’t be fair to expect you to wait on them. “Sound good?”

“You’re my guests.” You protest but Joel shakes his head, “we can do the dishes.” You sigh, knowing you’re best to not argue, and turn back to the stove. It doesn’t take long for you to set the serving dishes on the table. “Dig in.” You order and Ellie groans, “shit. That looks good.”

“Ellie.” Joel warns softly and you chuckle, “hopefully it tastes good.”

“I'm sure it’s great.” Joel tells you with a quick smile as he cuts into the chicken cutlet. “Thank you, it’s nice to have a good meal.” He admits. Often times it was something from a box or fast food for them. “And did you remember what beer I drink? Or was it a lucky guess?”

You bite your lip and fluster slightly, “I, uh, I remembered.” You confess, having remembered every detail about the man opposite you. Your heart is still thumping when his dark eyes meet yours.

Neither of you notice the way Ellie smirks as she cuts into her chicken. “This is fucking awesome. You’re a great cook. Right, Joel?” Ellie hints at her foster dad.

"Huh?" He's been trying not to make it obvious that he's having a moment with the chicken farm. Looking up, he sees that he's being asked a question. "Yeah, oh yeah, it's delicious." He praises. "I don't know if I've had chicken parm this good in forever." He promises.

Your stomach twists with their praise, pleased they are enjoying it and you dig in yourself, hungry after cooking for most of the afternoon. “So Ellie is your daughter?” You ask Joel and Ellie snorts, “he wishes. I’m just his foster kid. He and my mom were friends and when he found out I was in home after home, he took me in.” Ellie says and you smile, “always knew you were a softie.” You tease and Joel grunts his response.

The truth was more complicated and filled in infinitely more guilt. Joel had gone down a dark path after Sarah had died. He was Ellie's mother's dealer. Giving her the drugs even though she was using more and more and that it could kill her. He had told himself that it wasn't his problem until he had learned about Ellie. He had started avoiding the woman's calls until he learned she had died of an overdose. No other family other than Ellie, it had felt like it was his fault so he had done the work to become the kid's guardian.

You can sense there's more but you don't push. The three of you have small talk, Ellie mainly asking questions about what Joel was like when you knew him back in the day and you explain that you were good friends until he got married and you decided to leave town. "You left? And didn't keep in touch?" Ellie asks with a frown and you tap your fingers on the table, "it was complicated."

Joel snorts and doubts that, but he doesn't voice it. You keep saying it's complicated, but you won't even say more than that to him. Ellie rolls her eyes and sighs. "Just say you love him already. There. Done." She turns to Joel and pitches her voice up slightly. "Joel, I was in love with you so I couldn't stand to see you married." She says, pretending to be you before she looks back over at you with a shake of her head. "Now. Was that hard?"

Your jaw drops slightly as the teenager calls you out and reveals the reason you left within an hour of meeting you. "I, uh, it - um -" You stammer and Joel shakes his head.

"Ellie. Don't be rude." He reprimands her and she waves her hand towards you, "I'm right, aren't I?" She asks and you stand up, grabbing your plate.

"I have dessert. You like chocolate cake?" You ask and grab the teenager's plate.

“Stop being a little shit.” Joel hisses the moment you disappear out of sight. “She doesn’t love me. She’s just getting over a break up.” Ellie’s grin falls and she looks upset over her comments. “And you have to open your big mouth.”

You sigh as you cut into the cake you bought earlier and serve three plates. You carry them back over to the table on the tray and Ellie’s eyes widen as she takes it in. “Holy shit, that looks delicious.” She says and you chuckle, “I didn’t make this. I’m not a good baker.” You confess as you sit back down.

“I doubt that.” Joel tells you. “I’m sure you are a good baker, but Ellie never turns down cake.”

“I never do either.” You wink at Ellie, wanting to lighten the atmosphere and you dig into the cake. After the cake is eaten, Ellie tells you about her school and how she wants to learn to play the guitar. “Joel used to play guitar.” You reveal, remembering how you used to hear him practicing in his bedroom.

“You never told me that.” Ellie sounds downright offended that he had never told her about his musical proclivity.

“Haven’t told you a lot.” He grunts, smirking slightly when she pouts at him.

“But you can teach me, and then I won’t have to pay someone.”

He chuckles and raises a brow at his foster kid. “I’ll take payment in the form of chores being done on time and completely.”

You chuckle and realize that Joel is just as soft as you remember him but he’s covered by a hard exterior…like a piece of candy. Sweet but sour. “Deal.” Ellie says despite knowing she will slack a little bit she hopes Joel will at least teach her the basics. “So are you gonna be seeing Joel again?” Ellie probes and you shrug, “well, he’s working next door so I think it’s inevitable.”

Joel rolls his eyes at the scheming tone of the girl’s voice. “Maybe I should ask you when you are going to see Vanessa again.” He huffs with a small smirk. “You seemed to be really into hanging out with her.”

You lean in a little closer with a smile, “who’s Vanessa?” You ask and Ellie blushes, “she’s, uh, she’s this girl from math and she - she’s really pretty.” Ellie murmurs and you reach out to touch her arm, “then maybe you should tell her that.” You suggest and Ellie rears back and shakes her head. “Oh no. No. I, uh, I don’t know if she likes me.” Ellie confesses and you say, “well, you’ll never know unless you ask.” You suggest softly and Ellie bites her lip until her expression hardens a little, “I could say the same thing to you guys.” She says, looking between you and Joel.

You shake your head, “we are friends. Have always been friends.” You say and don’t notice Joel frown slightly. “Anyway, I, uh, I’m sure you have an early start. Do you want to take the rest of the cake home? I won’t eat all of that.”

“I know the kid will want it.” He won’t admit that he might go to the kitchen in the middle of the night to sneak a piece. “Come on.” He motions towards Ellie. “Let’s get in there and clean up. Show our appreciation for the good meal.”

Ellie, for once, doesn’t groan about doing dishes and you already have most of it in the dishwasher so it’s only the serving plates and plates you ate off of. “It’s okay.” You try to argue but Joel and Ellie already have a well rehearsed wash and dry system. You stand there with your glass of wine and admire Joel.

You had obviously washed as you cooked, so there weren’t as many dishes as when Joel decides he’s gonna actually cook. Once the last one is washed and handed off to Ellie to dry, Joel rinses the rag and starts to wipe down your counters. “Tell you what?” He jokes. “You feed us like that and we’ll do all the dishes every time. Might even do your laundry too.”

You chuckle and hold your hand out towards Joel, “that’s a deal, Miller.” You joke and he squeezes your hand, sending electricity up your arm at his touch and your heart thumps. You stare at him for a moment until Ellie clears her throat and looks between you with a shit eating grin until Joel lets go of your hand. They finish washing up and you hand them the box of cake to take with them when you escort them out of your house “it was great to meet you, Ellie.”

"It was pretty cool to meet you too." Ellie smirks. "I think I'll probably see a lot more of you too." She predicts before shooting out the door. "Thanks for the food!" She shouts as she waves the cake box over her head.

You chuckle when Joel rolls his eyes, “she’s a handful.” He says and you reach up to squeeze his shoulder, “she’s a good kid. And you’re a good man for taking her in.” You say and he leans in to softly kiss your cheek.

“Thanks for dinner, sweetheart. See you around.” He winks at you and you fluster, nodding before you shut the door. Your heart is fluttering, the ghost of his kiss on your cheek and you know that your love for him has never gone away, it’s just been concealed.

****

The next morning, you’re woken up by Joel and his crew again and you sigh, getting ready for the day. When you open the curtains, your jaw drops as you come face to face with Joel working , his shirt looped into his jeans. “Shit.” You hiss, your stomach twisting with arousal as you watch his shoulder muscles move.

Joel sees the curtains opening on the bedroom you are obviously using in your aunt’s house. He looks back down at the board he was nailing into place and smirks. It was hot as hell today and that might have prompted him to take his shirt off. All the while, telling himself that Ellie’s prodding about how much you two obviously liked each other was a bunch of BS. You had been friends. He’s sure he had taken his shirt off around you at some point, so why shouldn’t he be comfortable.

Your mouth is dry as you try to discreetly watch. You hadn’t seen Joel without his shirt off and the muscles moving has you wanting to get back into bed and imagine Joel in it with you. Instead, you force yourself to get ready for the day and brew some coffee. The doorbell rings around mid morning and you brush yourself down as you move to open the door. “Joel. What’s up?” You ask, his shirt still off, he’s covered in some kind of grease, and you swallow harshly. “I hate to ask this but do you think I could use your shower? I got grease all over me from trying to fix my tool. Can I - I’ll be quick.” He asks and you nod, “of course. It’s upstairs to the left.” You say, “I can run your stuff through the washer if you want?” You offer.

“Thanks.” He shoots you a grin. “I appreciate it. This job has been nothing but a pain in my ass, but at least the view is nice.” He tells you, aware that he’s flirting, but he can’t help himself. He’s been thinking about you all day. Wondering what you’ve been doing.

You bite your lip as he grins at you and you aren’t sure if he’s flirting or not. You watch him as he carefully makes his way upstairs after taking off his boots at the door and you try to busy yourself by making some iced tea for when he’s done showering. Logically, you know he doesn’t have a spare set of clothes yet you’re still surprised when he appears with a towel wrapped around his waist and you swear your heart stops. Fuck, he looks gorgeous. You want to lean in and lick the drops of water speeding down his chest and stomach to be absorbed by the towel.

Joel shuffles slightly. “Sorry. I didn’t think about the fact I had nothing to put on.” He admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I- I swiped some of your deodorant.” He chuckles awkwardly. “Probably the best I’ve smelled all day.”

“That - That’s okay.” You nod, torn between stepping forward to rip the towel from his body and running to your room to disappear. “I, uh, I made some iced tea if you want some.” Joel nods and you pour him a glass. “I’ll put your things in the washer.” You hold your arms out and take the dirty clothes, quick to walk into the laundry room to put his clothes on to wash.

He hadn’t missed the way your breaking hitched, and he reasons that Ellie was right. You want him. Instead of drinking the tea, he puts it down and quietly follows behind you. Crowding in behind you as you close the lid to start it and smirks when you gasp as you turn around. “Sorry, realized I forgot to give you everything.” He rasps out, reaching for his towel. “Can’t forget that.”

Your eyes widen and you bite your lip to stop the whimper escaping. Joel is naked. In your aunt’s laundry room. You spin around and place the towel in the washer before pressing the button to start it. His hands find your waist and he pushes up against you, “Joel.” You whimper, “I- oh God.” You gasp when he kisses your neck.

“I want you.” He confesses, “you want me, darlin’?” He asks and your knees would buckle if he didn’t have you pressed up against the washer.

“I need you. I’ve wanted you since I met you.” You confess breathlessly.

His hardening cock twitches against your ass and he groans. “That is why you left.” He huffs. “Fuck, I wish I had known.” He squeezes your hips and then slides his hands around so he can unbutton your jeans. “I would have taken you to bed before I met Helen. Always thought you were a pretty thing. Never seemed like you wanted more with me, so I didn’t push.”

You turn your head to kiss his jaw. “I thought you thought of me as the dumb kid next door. Never saw me as the woman I became. I thought you just saw me as a friend. When you told me you were engaged to Helen - I - I couldn’t stick around and watch you be a family.” You confess as he pulls the zipper down and you gasp when he shoves your jeans down your thighs, his hand quickly pushing into your panties to rub your clit. “Joel.” You moan, reaching up to turn his head so you can press your lips against his.

He knows that this will change everything but he’s tired of being alone. Tired of the regrets he has and you have always been one of them. His work rough fingers press and rub your clit while his other hand slides under your shirt and pushes your bra up so he can fondle your tits. “Never thought you were a girl. You aren’t that much younger than me. Hated how much I wanted you. How much I thought about you.”

You gasp when he rubs your clit just right and you grind your hips back against his aching cock. “God. I- I thought about you all the time.” You confess and reach behind you to grip his cock in your hand. “I want you, Joel.” You whimper, needing to feel him inside of you after so many years of wondering what he would feel like.

“Then you’ll get me.” Joel promises. “Right after you cum on my fingers.” He twists his wrist so he can push two thick fingers inside you and rub your clit with his thumb. Groaning and twitching in your hand when your walls squeeze his fingers tight. “I’ll fuck your little pussy right. Make you forget all about that douche bag in Texas. Show you how a man should be treating you.”

His words send a whine up your throat and you squeeze his cock in your grip as his fingers stretch you out. “Oh God. Jo- Joel.” You gasp when his thumb presses harder against your clit. It’s more than you’ve felt in years while having sex and you are grateful for his hand squeezing your breast to keep you upright and pressed against the washer. “Shit. That - it’s so good.” You pant, knowing that Jason never made you feel like this. He never used to finger you until you came, just until you were wet. You’re a little embarrassed when you look back on it later to say that you came astonishingly quick, clamping down on his digits with a moan of his name.

“Good girl.” Joel moans when he feels your body tense and shake. “Fuck, your such a good girl for me. Bet you taste delicious, don’t cha?” He groans, the slickness coating his fingers makes it easier to work you through your orgasm until he feels your knees buckle and you collapse against the washing machine. “Fuck. You needed that, didn’t you. Still want me to fuck you or do you need a cigarette?” He jokes. He’s throbbing in your hand, but if you don’t want to go any farther, he won’t push. He doesn’t want you to regret it or feel like he’s taking advantage of your broken heart.

You squeeze his cock again, "don't you dare stop, Miller. I- I've wanted you for forever. I need you inside of me." You plead breathlessly, pussy still fluttering around his fingers, "please." You add pathetically, needing this even if it's one time.

“I’m so fuckin’ glad you said that.” Joel confesses as he pulls his soaked fingers out of you. “Otherwise I was gonna need to jerk off right now.” He kisses your neck and pushes your feet apart with his own to spread you out. “It’s gonna be quick.” He warns. “Been a long fuckin’ time for me.”

"I don't care. You can cum inside of me." You promise, bracing yourself on the vibrating washer as he positions himself at your entrance and starts to push inside of you. You whine when his cock slips inside of you, already stretching you out. "Fuck. You are so big." You moan, knowing that you've never had anyone this thick inside of you.

Joel groans your name roughly, rolling his hips until they are pressed against your ass and both hands are filled with your tits. “So goddamn tight.” He rasps in your ear, twitching when you clench around him. “Better than my dreams, better than I could have ever imagined. So tight around my dick.”

You reach behind you to tangle your fingers in his damp hair. He starts to move inside of you, a whine escaping your lips as the friction is delicious, and you rest your cheek on the washer. “Soooo gooood.” Your voice vibrates too and Joel chuckles darkly, making you clench around him again.

He moves his hands down to grip your waist, holding tight to you as he braces his legs. Starting to rock into you faster and harder to make your body slam against the machine you are leaning against. “Fuck baby, you’re goddamn perfect.” He grunts out, gritting his teeth. “Touch your pretty little clit while I fuck the shit out of you.”

You cry out in pleasure, your hand shaking as you push it between you and the machine to rub your clit. “Fuck Joel. Joel. Oh shit.” You practically sob and his fingers dig into your flesh, likely leaving bruises you’ll cherish. “Harder.” You demand, wanting to feel him for days after he leaves you.

He growls, deep in his chest and his pace increases. Slamming into you harsh enough that he rocks the machine. Loving how you take him and beg for more, how tight your cunt gets when you spasm around him. “Gonna cum.” He warns, feeling his body starting to tense. “Need you to cum, sweet girl.”

You rub your clit a little faster, wanting to cum before he does and his grunts echo in the laundry room, getting deeper and faster along with his thrusts until you fall apart. A cry rips from your mouth as you clamp down on him, practically shaking against the vibrating machine as you climax around the man you’ve wanted for so long.

As soon as you clench down around him, Joel is lost. The strangled groan pushes out of his throat as he buries his cock just as deep as he can. Painting your walls with hot spurts of his seed while he grinds into you and whimpers your name. Overwhelmed by how perfect you feel around him.

You pant, resting against the washer as Joel twitches inside of you, his lips kissing along the back of your neck. You are speechless. No one has ever fucked you like that. Your legs feel like jello and you know you'd collapse if it wasn't for him keeping you pressed against the machine.

Panting, Joel presses against your back, kissing along your neck as he tries to catch his breath. He’s out of practice, but the way your legs still shake makes him think he did it right. “Fuck.” He chuckles. “We shoulda done that years ago.”

You chuckle softly, "yes but you were married." You snort and Joel caresses your side. "I think I'm gonna need a nap after that." You confess and he smirks against your skin, reluctantly pulling out of you.

“Well, I can’t go back to work with no clothes on.” He reminds you with another chuckle. “Why don’t we take that nap?” He’s already told his crew what to do and he doesn’t want to leave you right now. Caressing your back, he watches his cum start to well up at your little hole, trying to push out.

You smile, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra after he steps back from you and you finally feel like you can stand up. You toss your bra and shirt into the laundry basket along with the rest of your clothes after using your panties to wipe his cum from between your legs. “I need to pee and then we can nap.” You say, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You wanna head upstairs while I pee?” You ask.

“Yeah.” Joel smirks slightly when you wobble as you walk to the hall bathroom and he strides into the kitchen to grab you a bottle of water before heading upstairs to the bedroom you are using. Feeling great and hoping that you enjoyed yourself, he’s gonna have to ask you when you come up.

You struggle to get upstairs but you do it, finding Joel sitting on the edge of the bed, still naked and you admire him for a second. The sun coming through the curtains highlights the gray in his locks and you find yourself falling for him all over again. You shift to lay down on the bed, closing your eyes, “you’ve worn me out, Miller.” You joke playfully.

“You’re worn out?” It’s fucking ridiculous how he wants to touch you again, even though he knows it will be at least half an hour, maybe more before he could get it up again. “And here I was thinking about eating your pussy.” He flips back on the bed beside you. “Guess that’s out.”

You open one eye, “now I didn’t say I was that worn out.” You tease, shifting onto your side and opening both eyes to look at him. “I would happily cum on your tongue if you want to do that.” You murmur, reaching out to caress his chest.

“Figure I owe you that much.” He grunts. “Fucked you over a washing machine. Not exactly the classiest first time.” He shoots you a grin. “Shoulda been in the bed of my truck.” He leans in and presses his lips to your as he rolls you onto your back and covers you with his body. “Wanna find out how you taste. Used to think about it when I had my dick in my hand.”

You reach up to caress his shoulders and back, “the bed of your truck. The stars above while the radio plays. That might’ve been something I dreamed about a lot.” You confess as he kisses along your neck. “I want to suck your cock too. Imagined it so many times. How you’d look, how you’d sound.”

“Fuck.” He groans, imagining it. “You’d look so fucking pretty like that.” He agrees. “But right now, there’s no way I’m gonna get hard, baby. I’m old.”

You scoff, “you’re not old. You just need some time.” You murmur, caressing his back as he slides his hand down your side. “We have time.” You promise softly despite knowing you are on borrowed time in your aunt’s house. “Now…you mentioned something about eating me out?”

He laughs as his tongue slides between your breasts, looking up at you with a grin that makes him feel younger, lighter. “I was telling you that you were going to scream my name.” He boasts, kissing across your belly as he shuffles down the bed to move between your thighs.

You grin as you watch him until he kisses your inner thigh and your mouth falls open with a moan. “Joel.” You sigh when he kisses along the sensitive skin until you are moaning his name as his tongue slides through your folds. “Fuck.” You tilt your head back, sitting up on your elbows.

He hums, knowing you are watching him but his eyes are closed as he tastes you. Enjoying the musky, tangy taste, even mixed with his own cum. Using his hands to push your thighs apart more, he flicks his tongue over your clit before sliding down and pushing his tongue inside you.

You gasp in delight as his tongue curls deep and you shift your weight onto one elbow so you can reach out and tangle your fingers in his hair. "So good baby. So good." You coo, rocking your hips up slightly to push his tongue deeper.

Joel groans into your cunt as he tongue fucks you enthusiastically. Loving your responsiveness and how you moan his name. His fingers dig into your hips, dragging you closer as he feasts voraciously without even wanting to pull away to swallow, his spit and your juices sliding down to soak the bed under you.

"Oh God." You pant, chest heaving and you let go of his hair to squeeze your breast, pinching the nipple while his nose presses against your clit. "That - ohhh just like that." You cry as his tongue curls just right with his nose pressed against your bundle of nerves.

He hums, rubbing his broad nose against your clit to give you more. Desperate to hear you cum again and to feel you soak his face. He feels so fucking alive right now between your thighs.

"Shit. I'm - you're gonna make me cum, Joel." You pant, thighs clamping around his face as he sends you over the edge. "Fuck!" You squeal as you soak his face, almost suffocating him with your thighs as your stomach clenches with your orgasm.

Joel groans, his softening cock starting to twitch and harden. Loving how wet you are getting and how much you are soaking him. Working you through it, his eyes are fixed on your face while you moan and cry out for him.

You collapse back onto the bed, gasping to catch your breath and you swear your heart has stopped from how hard you came. It’s more than anything you felt with Jason. It’s all consuming. “So good.” You finally murmur, loosening your grip on his face as your legs come down to lay flat on the bed when he rests his chin on your mound.

He smirks, looking at your blissed out face. “Good to know that it was good.” He strokes your thigh and your hip with his hands. “Now we can nap.” He teases, winking playfully.

You shift onto your side after he snakes from between your legs to flop down on the bed beside you. “You don’t want me to-?” You ask, noticing his semi.

“Nap first then maybe you can ride me.” He says, closing his eyes and you nod, shifting to curl into his side, watching him for several moments until you eventually drift off to sleep.

****

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep but you wake up to Joel snoring. You chuckle softly, knowing he would never admit to snoring, and you watch him for a moment, unable to believe you’re here with him. Your gaze slides down his body to his hard cock resting on his belly and you grin, carefully shifting to be able to kneel over his body. You gently grip his cock and lean down to take the head into your mouth, wanting to surprise him when he wakes up.

Joel grunts, the wet heat and suction around his cock pulling him out of the nap he had been enjoying. Confused for a moment before the last few hours come rushing back to him and he groans out your name. Reaching down to cup the back of your head as his eyes open. Seeing you looking up at him with a smirk in your eyes.

You take him deeper, gripping the base of his cock as you widen your jaw and choke for a second. You haven’t sucked a cock like Joel’s before and it takes you a few tries to get him down your throat without gagging.

“Good girl, fuck, watch you take that.” He marvels. Reaching around to caress your jaw and feeling the way that your jaw unhinges. “Couldn’t wait, so eager for it that you had to wake me up?” He teases.

You moan around his cock, closing your eyes as you take him deeper, your saliva dripping down his length and you pull back after a moment, working his cock with your hand. You twist your wrist and dribble some more spit onto his cock. “I couldn’t resist.” You confess, pumping him as you lean in to suck on the head, pressing your tongue against his frenulum.

“Shit.” Joel hisses, his toes curling in pleasure and his thighs tensing as his body responds to your tongue. “Cock hungry.” He grunts. “You gonna swallow? Or are you gonna tease me and not let me cum in your mouth?”

You pull back again, pumping him a little faster. “You wanna cum down my throat or do you want me to ride you? Your choice, handsome.” You coo, “I can do whatever you want. Just want you to feel good.” You promise, taking him back into your mouth.

“Fuck.” It’s such a tantalizing choice but he knows he lasts longer the second time around and then he’ll be done. It would make your jaw ache and he doesn’t want that. “Ride me, baby.” He groans. “Want to see you bounce on my cock.”

You don't argue despite wanting to watch him as he cums down your throat. You let his cock drop from your mouth and you shift to straddle his thighs, shuffling closer until you can wrap your fingers around his slick cock and position him. You sink down onto him with your eyes fixed on his, that dark gaze sends a shiver down your spine as he stretches you out. "God, Joel." You whine softly, placing your palms on his chest.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” Joel goans out, his fingers digging into the soft flesh at your hips while you clench down around him. You’re even tighter in this position and he has the bonus of being able to look into your eyes. See your face. “Does that feel good, baby?”

"Joel. It's...shit. It's so good." You confess breathlessly and your nails dig into his chest a little as you start to rock your hips. "Shit. How does it feel so good? Never been like this before." You confess as your eyes meet his and your heart pounds in your chest, silently giving you the answer to your question.

Bracing his feet on the bed, he rocks his hips up to meet you when you lift off of him. Making both of you groan at how good it feels. “You look so good on my dick.” He groans. “Your ex is a fucking moron.” He doesn’t want you to think about that asshole, but he wants you to know that it wasn’t you. One hand slides up to cup your breast, squeezing gently. “Never wanna leave this pussy.”

His words make you clench around him and you whimper, falling forward to press your chest against his so you can kiss him. Your lips pressing against his and you tangle your fingers in his hair as he thrusts up into you. His arms wrap around you and you kiss his jaw when you pull back to take a breath. "Never want you to stop fucking me."

Joel grunts, shifting to take control. “Good-“ he pants. “Good thing I last the second time.” He starts rocking his hips up, pinning you to him as he fucks you. “It’s why I wanted you to ride me. Probably take me an hour to cum.”

You are surprised by that. Most men you've been with tend to leave you unsatisfied after finding their own orgasm. "Fuck, really?" You gasp and he chuckles, thrusting a little harder. "Yes. Gonna make you cum over and over again." You cry out when he hits deep, nudging your cervix, but you love it. "Yessss." You hiss, "do that again baby."

Joel groans and does as you demand, snapping his hips up sharply so he can push against that spot again. He might be getting older, slower, fall asleep after dinner in his chair, but he’s not going to disappoint you. Not when he has this time with you like this. Trying to give you the same performance if he had fucked you years ago. “That?” He teases. “I’ll do that as much as you want.”

The sound you let out is between a wail and a moan as he hits that spot again. “Oh shitttt.” You hiss, lost in the sensations. “Again. That- again.” You beg and he does it, making you shake above him. “Joel. Oh shit. Baby. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me - fuuuu-” The word fading into a choke as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him as you shake above his body, your fingers tugging on his hair.

This time he slows down, rocking you through the pleasure slowly and finally stopping when you slump down into his chest. He’s still hard, buried inside you, and he hums softly as he lets you catch your breath. “That’s good, baby?” He asks quietly. “You want another one?”

You lean back to look into his face. Fingers coming up to trace the lines that have been etched onto his skin over the years you’ve not seen each other. He’s still just as devastatingly handsome though. Every line is a story you don’t know about. “Yes.” You murmur, pressing your lips to his and you shift to sit up, wanting to ride him again. Your hips rock as you reach for his hands, joining them with yours to give yourself something to hold onto as you rock on his cock.

This time, you ride him. Truly ride him. You roll your hips and circle them around and make him groan. He squeezes your hands, but he doesn’t urge you to go faster. Knowing you will cum again before he does. He doesn’t want to hurt you or wear you out, so he’s just along for the ride. Aware that the sounds from next door have stopped and the guys have gone home.

You tilt your head back as you rock your hips. It’s slower, not as frantic, and you love the way he groans when you grind down onto him. “So good Joel. God, I- I can’t believe it’s so good.” You confess, squeezing his hands before you let go of him and lean back to place your hands on his thighs, grinding forward onto his cock.

He chuckles and watches you with a sense of wonder. “It’s because you’ve not had good sex in a long time.” He downplays his prowess because all that matters is that you enjoy yourself. “God, your pussy is fucking magic.” He moans quietly, twitching violently in the warmth of your walls.

You whimper, loving how he looks beneath you, and you moan his name again, “can you-?” You reach for his hand to bring it to your stomach, sliding it down to rub your clit and you moan when he rubs it just right. “That’s it baby. Shit.” You pant, rocking a little faster and you are soon clamping down on him again, head tilted back as a choked cry escapes your lips.

Joel watches you through heavy lidded eyes as you come apart again. Enjoying the pleasure you take as much as you do, although your body is the one shaking. He rocks his hips up slightly when your pace falters to work you through it. Groaning out your name and humming as you collapse against his chest to kiss you.

You caress his cheek, “I need a second.” You admit, chest heaving as your heart pounds in your chest and you pull off of his cock. Shifting to lay beside him and you reach down to grip his length, starting to pump him slowly while you lean in to kiss him. “Can’t believe you’re in my bed.” You murmur against his lips.

“Hard to believe since we haven’t seen each other in so long.” Joel agrees. “But it is pretty damn good, I think.” He reaches up and cups your cheek. “I know you deserve the fucking moon.”

You grin, turning your head to kiss his palm. “So do you. Always thought you were too hard on yourself.” You murmur, continuing to pump his cock. “I want you on top of me.” You request, letting go of his cock.

“Ready for more?” His brow shoots up and he huffs. “It’s a good damn thing that I didn’t cum.” He teases you, already moving to his knees so his could climb on top of you.

You giggle, reaching up to caress his shoulders and down to his chest, reaching for his cock to position him at your entrance. “I want you to cum. Fill me up again.” You promise, “and I’ll always want more.” You reassure him and he looks at you for a moment until he swallows harshly.

“Yeah?” He asks gruffly, not waiting for you to give him an answer, just lunging forward to fill you up again while he kisses you. Swallowing your cry when he pushes deep and immediately starts to rock into you.

You moan into his mouth, tongue tangling with his as he starts to rock his hips. It’s intoxicating and you are certain that you’ve never been fucked this well before. He kisses along your neck, biting your collarbone and you pant, closing your eyes. “So good baby. So good.” You whimper as he lifts your hip higher to sink deeper inside of you.

“Glad you like my fucking.” He huffs, chuckling breathlessly. He hasn’t worked this hard to fuck a pussy in years and he’s not regretting it. You both deserve this. He actually feels like he deserves this, surprisingly. You make him feel like he does.

“Oh God.” You can’t stop rambling about how good he feels, your heart pounding in your chest and you cross your ankles behind his back, your hands caressing his shoulders, strong from his years in construction. He lowers his hips and you swear you’re gonna cum again when the hair at the base of his cock brushes your clit.

“That’s it.” Joel grunts. The position has you perfectly positioned. Loving how tight you feel and how good it feels to be cradled between your thighs, he knows he’s gonna cum this time. “One more.” He begs. “Give me one more and I’ll fill you up again.”

You pant when he pushes deeper and drops his hips again and you swear you almost black out from the extent of pleasure he’s given you and you swear you are going to gush as he hits just right and you clamp down on his cock. “Joel. Joel. Joellll.” You squeal as you cum, soaking him and your ankles pushing against his ass.

Joel groans, unable to stop himself from pushing deep and letting go. His body draws up taunt like a guitar string. “That’s it baby, gonna cum.” He moans, feeling his cock pulse as he spills ropes of cum into your perfect cunt. Emptying himself as he holds his breath, feeling like his heart is about to beat out of his chest.

You sigh, closing your eyes and tilting your head back against the pillows as he paints your walls with his cum. You feel exhausted and yet feel like you could conquer the world. Alive and vibrating with pleasure from the man above you. The words would be so easy to say. The words you’ve wanted to say for so many years but you swallow them down.

Joel groans and pulls out of you slowly, flopping onto his back with a sigh. “Now I need another nap.” He huffs, closing his eyes even as he opens his arms if you want to snuggle to him again. “Wore me out, woman.”

You shift to curl into his side, throwing your leg over his thighs and not caring about his cum dripping out of you. You sigh and kiss his chest. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.” You confess, closing your eyes as you cuddle into him.

“Good.” Joel hums sleepily. “Best damn sex I’ve had too.” His hand curls around your body and closes his eyes again, exhausted and for once, the nightmares don’t come.

****

You smile as Ellie sets the blankets up in the back of Joel’s truck. You watch Joel as he comes back to the truck with an armful of popcorn. “Fuck yeah.” Ellie says and you chuckle, taking the popcorn from Joel. “You’re excited to watch Dawn of the Dead?” You ask her with amusement and she nods, “duh. It’s the original. The remake is good but it has nothing on this one.” She says and you watch Joel snort. “Come on, let’s get in the truck, it’s about to start.” He says and you climb in after he does, taking his hand.

Joel can’t believe that you wanted to spend time with Ellie, but it makes him smile as she settles down and you sit beside her. Leaning him to squeeze in on the outside. “It’s always nice when they run these.” Joel admits. “Been a long time since we’ve been, but I always loved it as a kid. Remember all those times we would hang out at the drive in? Damn thing was the only movie theater for twenty miles.”

You shift to snuggle into Joel's side after the movie begins. Ellie chomps away on the popcorn and you inhale the smoky scent of Joel as he shifts to get comfortable with the pillows behind you. The past week has been incredible, spending most days with Joel after he finishes working on the house next door and you've had dinners at your place with and without Ellie. You've wanted Ellie to feel included, that you aren't taking Joel away from her all the time, and the teenager says she's happy she doesn't have to see the miserable old bastard all the time. That made you chuckle and Joel grumble, causing Ellie to go "see? My point." You flinch during the movie, on edge despite seeing this classic before, and Joel rubs your shoulder.

He ignores the way that Ellie eyes the two of you and snickers under her breath. Pulling you against him to where you roll to your side, hooking a leg over his. He tucks his other arm behind his head. “Maybe we can do that thing downtown next week.” He mentions casually, keeping his voice low. “Kid wants to go. Could be fun.” The little town loves to hold festivals and events, especially during the summer.

You hum, looking up at him. “I would love that.” You have been having dinners with Ellie and she’s a great kid. Feisty and her manners could use some work but she’s a good girl really. She’s gonna be a ball buster when she grows up. You and Joel have grown closer and he told you about Sarah. How he asked her to pick up milk on the way home from school because he was too busy with work to pick her up himself so she said she’d walk home and she ended up involved in an armed robbery of the grocery store. She made one wrong move to try and help a pregnant woman and ended up shot. You held Joel after he told you what happened, both of you crying for the little girl who would never grow up. Since then, you’ve spent as much time as possible together, even spending the night at Joel’s house. You never want to go home. You want to stay right here forever. You kiss Joel’s jaw when it tenses and he turns his head to softly kiss you, making your heart flutter.

Joel hums into the kiss, keeping it soft and light since the kid is sitting right next to you. He’s already planning on having you spend the night. Getting used to the feeling of your body next to his and when he’s holding you, he doesn’t dream of Sarah. He doesn’t hear her last breaths as he sleeps. He nuzzles your cheek with his nose when he pulls away. “Enjoying yourself, baby?”

“Always with you.” You whisper softly while Ellie chomps on popcorn and laughs when someone new gets bitten. It’s the most at peace you’ve been in so long. You want to tell Joel how you feel but you don’t want to ruin this between you. When you arrive back at Joel’s, you bid goodnight to Ellie and Joel is dragging you to his room. “Someone’s eager.” You giggle and he shuts the door behind you.

“Always with you.” He uses your words from earlier, but it’s true. He’s always eager to touch you, to taste you. Feeling your skin against his is unlike anything else and he’s addicted to it. He quickly pulls off your shirt and unclips your bra as he kisses along your neck, moving down to take a nipple in his mouth.

You gasp, body still on fire as much as the first time whenever he touches you. You reach for his jeans, unbuckling them and reaching in to grip his cock, loving how hard he is for you. “Joel.” You whine when he bites down on your nipple, groaning into your skin.

He loves how you whine, how you beg for him. Switching to your other breast, he shows it the same attention, squeezing your ass and then hastily unbuttoning your shorts. Needing to feel how wet you are for him.

You let go of his cock so he can shove your shorts down and he groans when his hand dives into your panties and he finds you soaking wet. You’ve never been so turned on by a man, wet from just a few kisses from Joel. Even looking at him. You whimper when his calloused fingers find your clit. “Yesss baby.” You hiss softly, reaching back to squeeze his cock.

“Fuck.” He groans against your tit. His fingers rub your clit and then he slides them deep inside you and curls up. “Want you to cum for me, then I want to fuck you.” He growls.

You can’t deny him when he wants you to cum for him. His thumb pressing against your clit and you’re so close already. “Joel. Baby. Shit.” You hiss as you clamp down on his digits, soaking them and your grip on his cock tightens.

It seems like he’s learned your body perfectly over the last week. Groaning happily when your cunt gushes around his fingers and makes it squelch when he continues to finger you. “So good baby, so good.” He praises. “You’re so good for me.”

You whimper, “yes. Yes. All yours. I- shit. Need you inside of me.” You plead, letting go of his cock to reach for his shirt. You want to pull it over his head so you can touch his skin.

It’s a frantic rush to get both of you undressed. Acting like teenagers again. He chuckles when he nearly trips over his boxers as he moves you towards the bed. “So damn eager. All the time.” He grunts, pressing his lips to yours as he pushes you down onto the bed.

You giggle, looking up at him as he shifts to kneel between your legs. You stop giggling when he looks at you and you reach up to caress his cheeks. “It’s because it’s you.” You murmur, your heart pounding in your chest and you know you can’t say those words and ruin this so you surge forward to press your lips against gis.

Joel closes his eyes and moans into your mouth. Gripping his cock and guiding himself towards your dripping entrance while your tongues tangle together. Flattening his hands on either side of your head as he starts to push inside you.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, lifting your thighs up to rest on his hips so he can sink deeper inside of you. “Joel baby. Shit. Always so thick. Stretching me out. Would’ve - would’ve let you fuck me in your truck during the movie if Ellie wasn’t there.” You reveal when he leans back to kiss along your jaw.

He hums quietly. "Could you have kept quiet?" He asks, sliding a hand up and covering your mouth. "Or would I have had to fuck you like this? Keep those pretty sounds for myself while I fuck you?"

Your moan is muffled by his palm and you whimper when he starts to move inside of you. Your cunt clenches around him, making him chuckle darkly, and you swear that alone could make you cum. His hand slides down to your neck, holding you there but not squeezing. “I would’ve tried. The - the horror screams might’ve covered mine up.”

He hums, smirking as he watches you squirm underneath him. "Maybe." He tells you doubtfully. Your screams are too loud when he's really fucking you. Although you normally save that for when he's fucking you at your aunt's house.

You slap his chest playfully and he grabs your hand, pressing it into the mattress above your head. “I could’ve kept quiet.” You huff and he thrusts particularly hard into you, making you moan a little louder than you shoulder. His eyebrow raises as you open your eyes and you roll your eyes, “okay, you made your point. Now, you gonna fuck me, Miller?” You tease, leaning up to nip his jaw.

“I’m fuckin’ you, aren’t I?” He grumbles even though he’s smirking again. He’s been doing a lot of that around you lately. Reaching back, he grabs your hand and lifts it up over your head while he slams into you again. “Addicted to it. To you.”

Your mouth falls open, all joking gone as he hits so deep inside of you. “Fuck.” You gasp, closing your eyes as he rolls his hips on the next thrust. “Shit. Me too. Addicted. To all of you.” You promise, having seen some of his darker moments when he’d wake up in the middle of the night and momentarily forget he lost Sarah. You’d held him while he settled down and neither of you spoke about it the next morning. It’s his decision to talk or not talk.

With your confession, his pace falters for a moment before he starts rocking into you faster. Snapping his hips as harshly as he can to slam into you roughly. Knocking your breath and his own out of you as he fucks you.

You lift your hips higher, sending him impossibly deeper inside of you, and you can barely breathe with the way he’s pushing deep inside of you. “Fuck baby. That’s it. God. Feels so good. So good.” You moan, squeezing his hands in yours.

“You’re so good.” He’s done everything he fucking could to show you how sexy you are. How desirable. That your ex is a dumbass. He squeezes your hand and despite the rough pace, his lips are tender on yours.

His hips grind against yours and you are close when he rubs your clit just right. “Shit. Jo-Joel. Fuck. I’m gonna - I’m gonna - Shitttttt.” You hiss as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him and your lips hover against his as he works you through it.

It’s always so surprising how quickly you cum. Making him groan as your walls squeeze hum like a vice, begging him to fill you up. He kisses you again, keeping his cock working in and out of you as he chases his own high. Thinking about you and how sexy you are, different times he’s fucked you. Wanting to cum and snuggle with you while he can. “Fuck, fuck, baby.” He pants. “So fucking good for me. Soaking my cock. Moaning my name. You’re mine, ain’t cha?”

You nod, “yes. Yes. Yours. Always been yours. You just didn’t know it.” You confess and he groans, pushing deep inside of you with a hiss as he starts to cum. “That’s it baby. Cum for me. Yes. Yes. God, that’s it.” You squeeze his hands as he scrunches his face up while he paints your walls.

“You should stay.” Joel groans out as he collapses on top of you and buries his face into your neck. Panting breathlessly and trying to find the words he needs, even though he’s never been good at them. He needs you. Much like he needed Ellie, just in a different kind of way. He doesn’t want you to leave and he knows you’ve only got a few days left.

You want to stay. More than anything. You often daydream about a life spent with Joel but you have a life back in Texas that you need to sort out. You want to stay, forget everything in Texas but you have an apartment. “I can’t. Not yet.” You murmur and caress his back, “I have stuff to figure out in Texas.” You wish you could stay with him but you have to get everything sorted.

Joel doesn’t say anything. He knows it was a long shot. He kisses you softly and pulls out of you with a groan and rolls onto his back. Quiet and suddenly wondering is you are going to go back to that asshole now that you’ve fucked someone else.

You shift into his side, kissing his chest, and you know it’s hard to explain to Joel who sees the world in absolutes. You know he isn’t happy with your answer and you’ll try to explain it better in the daylight. He is soon snoring in your ear and you murmur to him, “I love you.” You will call your parents tomorrow and see if they can help you out.

****

Joel looks at you as you finish making the sandwiches for lunch. “You nearly finished with the house next door?” You ask him as you set the iced tea down in front of him as he shifts to sit at your kitchen counter.

“Nearly.” He says and he’s been quiet since last night when you told him you weren’t staying.

You set the plate in front of him just as the doorbell rings. He looks at you and you shake your head, “I didn’t order anything.” You say and make your way over to the front door. You open it and gasp, “Jason?”

His heart sinks as he hears your gasps but his first instinct is anger. Lurching out of his seat, Joel rushes to the door and pushes you out of the way so he can grab the asshole who hurt you. "What the fuck are you doing here?" He growls, satisfied that the man nearly squeals and flinches when Joel draws his fist back to punch him.

Jason winces and you reach up to touch Joel’s arm. “Don’t. He’s not worth it.” You say and Joel glances at you, confused that you don’t want him to beat this guy’s ass and you say no. “What do you want, Jason?” You huff and Jason adjusts his shirt after Joel lowers his arm.

“I want you back. I made a mistake. I'm sorry baby. Please. I miss you.” You ignore that to ask him how he found you. “Your phone…still has the location shared with me.”

You hiss at your stupidity. “I don’t - I don’t love you Jason. You hurt me. So much. Just go.” You plead and he shakes his head, trying to push into the house but Joel puffs his chest and Jason backs away.

“Fine. Whatever. Clearly you’ve moved on. Good luck, man. She’s batshit crazy.” Jason growls, “and she needs to do some fucking kegels.”

Joel hisses and surges forward to grab Jasón but he manages to dodge Joel and runs down the path. “Motherfucker.” Joel hisses and tries to catch him but you place your hand on his chest, “leave it baby. It’s not worth it.” You remind him and Joel shouts out, “you worthless piece of shit!” You sigh and shut the door, feeling a little shaken by Jason’s random appearance.

Joel’s angry. Pissed off that you apparently still have feelings for that fucking loser. Enough that you wouldn’t let him beat the shit out of him and teach him some fucking manners. “Charming asshole.” He grunts, not even hungry anymore. “See why you want to go back to him.” You just said you didn’t love him, but why else would you give up on everything the two of you have if not to go back to that worthless piece of shit.

Your eyes widen, “go- what the hell are you talking about, Joel? Go back to him? That’s the last thing I’d ever do. I didn’t think he’d track my fucking phone to come and find me.” You shake your head, “I don’t want him. I want you. I only want you.” You want to tell him how much but you don’t want to risk your heart again.

“Except you aren’t staying with me, are you?” He demands. “You’re gonna fuck off back to Texas and maybe tell your friends that you rebounded with some dumb construction worker who knew you from back in the day.” His own fears ride to the surface and he lashes out at you. “Poor son of a bitch actually thought he had a chance and asked you to stay.”

You shake your head, “Joel. No. I- I have to go home because I have an apartment. A job. I can’t just up and leave everything. I want to stay. More than anything in the world but we aren’t kids, we have responsibilities and I have to handle it all before I come back here. I want to stay. More than anything in the world.” You assure him, noticing how tense he is and you feel guilty for not explaining yourself before.

“Whatever.” He’s angry and irrational. A little embarrassed about how he just flung his heart out there. “I’m- I’ve got to get back to work.” He picks up his tool belt off the back of the chair and turns towards the door. Hating how vulnerable you’ve made him feel and how easily you can hurt him.

You want to run after him, scream at him that you love him, that you've always been in love with him. No one has ever made you feel like he does. Instead, you stare at the kitchen counter. You told him you'd come back but he pushed it aside. Maybe it's best that you go home before you destroy the last of your relationship with Joel. You work on packing your things, booking a flight home, and you text Ellie to tell her you are heading home first thing. She tries to call you but you ignore it, wanting to have a glass of wine or two to smother the way your heart aches at leaving Joel again. You never discussed why you left. You never told him and now you doubt you will. You organize your aunt's house, leaving it how you found it and get into bed without Joel.

“You’re a fucking dumbass.” Joel ignores the jab coming from the teenager as he stirs the pan as if it was a mission to whip the water and milk mixture the boxed dinner called for. “Joel? Joel? She’s leaving.” She stresses again. “You know, not being here anymore?”

Slamming the spoon down, Joel turns around to glare at Ellie. “I fucking know. What do you want me to do about it?” He demands. “She’s a fucking adult. She can go where she wants.”

The girl’s eyebrows arch up to her forehead and she rears back at the anger in Joel’s tone. “Man, you got it baaaaaaad.” She huffs. “You need to tell her how you feel.”

Joel snorts. “I have.” He admits, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter, stay out of it.”

Ellie harumps at him and crosses her arms. “Go talk to her.” She demands, staring him down and he knows she won’t let this go.

“Fine.” He grumbles, slapping his hands on his hips to search for his keys. “Won’t do any good, but I’ll go talk to her.”

The doorbell rings and you frown, getting out of bed to see who it is. Hoping it's not Jason coming back. When you see Joel through the peephole, you sigh and open the door. "Hey." You say weakly as you stand there in your pajamas in the doorway.

“Can we talk?” Joel asks, shuffling slightly on the steps and wondering if you would tell him to fuck off. He had overreacted and fucked things up. “Please?”

You nod, stepping aside so he can walk in and you shut the door behind him. “Ellie told you I booked a flight home?” You ask and he nods, pushing his hands into his jeans. “Yeah.” He clears his throat and you bite your lip, taking a moment. “I don’t think you understand me, Joel. I- I don’t want to leave. Ever. If I could stay here forever, I would. But I can’t. Not because I don’t want to. I want to. I have a life back home. A home. A job. I can't abandon that stuff. I have to sort it out and then…I was planning to come back.”

His shoulders round, knowing that he hadn’t heard you say that when he was busy being upset. “I- I’m sorry.” He murmurs quietly, hating being wrong and feeling like he’s fucked things up. “I shouldn’t have- I didn’t hear you say that. I’m- no excuse.” He tells the kid to own up to her mistakes all the time and he should do the same.

You aren’t angry with him, just upset. “I- I never told you the reason why I left when you got married…did I?” You ask and he shakes his head, his hand coming up to run it through his hair. You fiddle with your fingers and lick your lips, giving yourself a moment. “I left because I couldn’t stand to see the man I love be in love with another woman, marry another woman. It tore me apart and I thought it was easier to leave than to watch you live your life without me being the woman you chose to be with. I was so in love with you and you didn’t see it. I had to go.”

“Oh baby.” Joel closes his eyes, pulling his hands out of his pockets so he can pull you close. “I wish you had told me.” It wouldn’t have changed things, he had married her, but maybe he could have kept you as a friend. “We didn’t last a year. She wasn’t the one for me. Not really, and we both knew it.”

You know he wouldn’t change a thing because he had Sarah because he married Helen but you hug him, breathing him in. “You had Sarah so life happens for a reason and you’re here now and I - I still love you. I’m still so damn in love with you, Miller.” You confess as you pull back to look at him.

“I love you.” He murmurs softly. “I - I was going to offer to come to Texas.” He’s not stepped foot in the state since his daughter died and he really didn’t want to go back, but he would for you. “To visit you. It would be hard to move Ellie.”

You caress his cheek, “I won’t be long.” You promise, “I can work remotely so I just gotta head home to pack up and find somewhere here to buy.” You tell him, “I won’t be gone long enough for you to need to visit me. I know you can’t move because of Ellie so I’ll come here. I don’t want to run anymore. I want you.” You promise, leaning in to nudge your nose with his.

“You don’t have to buy anything.” Joel murmurs quietly. “You can move in with me and Ellie.” He knows you might not want to move in with him after your ex cheated on you in your home, but he wants to offer. “No need to waste the money when you’re gonna be in bed with me.”

You smile, pleased that he’s ready to jump all in. “You want me in your bed?” You ask and he nods, “every damn night.” You giggle softly and kiss his lower lip. “As soon as I’m back, I’ll never leave your bed.” You promise, “I’m yours. Forever. If you’ll have me.”

“Baby, I want you.” Joel wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. “I promise you, I want you. Forever. Your asshole ex threw away the greatest thing he ever had and I’m not stupid enough to do the same.”

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel tlou #no outbreak!joel miller

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months

Text

Reassurances

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!reader

Summary: Luca's fellow S.W.A.T. members tease him for dating someone who is younger and out of his league. Though he knows they mean well, sometimes he needs your reassurances.

Warnings: brief angst, insecurities, teasing, fluffy comfort!!

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

A/N: Luca deserves all the love!!! He gives the best hugs in the world, I just know it. (Sorry if he's OOC, this is my first time writing for him, but I will be adding him to my character list if anyone has more requests for him!)

“Luca! Your daught- sorry, your girlfriend’s here, cradle robber!” Rocker calls when he sees you.

“Knock it off, Rocker,” Hondo replies, turning to Luca to add, “The brainwashed model is here.”

“Guys,” Deacon chides. “Take it easy.”

“Thank you, Deac,” you say, waving as you walk past them to the situation room.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” Luca asks, pulling you into a hug.

“Just wanted to see you. I was in the neighborhood,” you answer, practically melting at Luca's touch.

“You’re sure everything’s okay?” he checks, pulling back to look at your face.

Smiling as you look into his icy blue eyes, you nod.

“Oh, I got you something while I was out this morning,” you remember. “Want it now or later?”

Luca’s gaze flits over your shoulder, looking at his team and a few members of 50-David not so inconspicuously watching you. “Later sounds good.”

“Luca,” you say quietly, “you know they’re just teasing.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Forcing a smile back on his face, Luca returns his full attention to you. “What else do you have planned today?”

“Not much. I’m probably gonna go sit at your house and wait for you to get home.”

Luca chews the inside of his bottom lip, debating if he should tell you that you can do whatever you want and that you don’t have to make special trips to see him.

“Hey,” you say, tapping his chest. “I want to see you. But if you’re busy, that’s fine.”

“No, ‘s not that, just…”

“Luca, I want to.”

Luca nods, his eyes and smile dropping as you approach him. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeeze him tightly.

“Okay, I get it,” he says through a laugh, tapping your back.

“I’ll see you tonight, then?” you ask, tilting your chin to catch his eyes.

“See you tonight,” he assures, rubbing between your shoulder blades.

As you exit S.W.A.T. HQ, you’re glad Rocker left already. 20-David’s teasing is clearly all in good fun, but Rocker always takes it too far, instilling doubts in Luca. You will never grow tired of reminding him that you love him, want him, and will choose him over and over for the rest of your life, but sometimes you want to put the other S.W.A.T. members in their place.

✯✯✯✯✯

While you get comfortable at Luca’s house, he counts the minutes until he can pull you into his arms again.

“Big plans tonight?” Deacon asks.

“Just a night in,” Luca answers.

“Only option at your age, isn’t it?” Street jokes.

Luca doesn’t reply, and Street looks at Tan. The rest of 20-David shake their heads at each other, acknowledging that they took it a step too far.

“Luca, I didn’t-“ Street begins.

“It’s good,” Luca answers, closing his locker. “See you tomorrow, guys.”

“Bye, Luca,” Deacon calls. He turns toward Hondo, who shrugs.

“We may need to lay off him for a few days,” Hondo suggests.

“Trouble in paradise?” Rocker asks as he enters the locker room. “She remember there’s guys who don’t need to early bird discount?”

When no one replies, Rocker raises his head and asks, “Is he okay?”

“We don’t know,” Street answers, looking at Luca’s locker. “But he has to be. If he’s not, it’s our fault.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The door opens, and you rush to greet Luca, wrapping your arms around him as he closes the door. You know something is wrong when his arms don’t immediately circle you.

“Luca,” you say softly, pushing your fingers through his hair, disturbing the gel he put in it this morning. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, his shoulders lowered and drawn toward each other.

“Do you want to sit with me for a while? I, for one, could use some good company.”

“You could get better company,” Luca whispers.

Sighing, you wrap your hands around Luca’s arm, leading him to the couch. After you push him to sit, you turn toward the kitchen to get him a drink, but his hand leaps up and catches your wrist. The questioning look in his eye, like he thinks you are leaving him, is enough to break your heart. Kneeling before the couch, you raise your hands to Luca’s cheeks.

“Look at me?” you request.

When he lifts his tired, glassy eyes to you, you silence. You’re not immune to insecurities - no one really is - but seeing Luca questioning you and your relationship like this is especially painful.

“You’re all I’ll ever want,” you promise. “I will choose you, Luca, every single day.”

Luca shakes his head, and you gently press your hands against his cheeks as you comfort him.

“You wanna know something about me?” Luca’s gaze raises back to your face, and you say, “I could marry you right now.”

Sniffling, Luca leans closer to you. Moving your hands down to either side of his neck, you lean between his knees, pressing your weight into the couch.

“The guys,” Luca begins, taking a shaky breath. “I know they’re just teasing, but they’re right about so much, you know?”

“No, I don’t. Tell me what you think they’re right about.”

“You’re too young for me, way out of my league… You could do better than me.”

“Can I ask a question, and promise not to take it the wrong way?”

Luca shrugs, and you crack a small smile.

“You have to at least say you’ll try,” you add.

“I’ll try.”

“Why’s it bothering you so much today? Some days you roll with the punches, and joke with them. Today was different, though. Did something change?”

Dropping his chin, Luca presses his face against your arm beside his jaw.

“It’s me, right?” you ask. “You realized you’re in way better shape than me, that this whole time you’ve been out of my league.”

“What?” Luca mumbles against your forearm.

“I mean, you work out all the time for work, chasing down bad guys and jumping out of helicopters. You got tired of my joints cracking every time I stand up, right?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Luca says with a chuckle.

“Exactly.”

Luca shakes his head, and you wipe a stray tear from his cheek. You stand, keeping your hands on him as a tangible promise that you’re not going anywhere. Luca looks up at you from the couch, following your movement.

“I mean it,” you reiterate, “I could marry you right now. Dressed like this, and that’s saying a lot.”

Dressed in a stretched-out t-shirt that once belonged to Luca and your favorite, comfiest bottoms, you hope you’re getting your point across.

“How are you not tired of me yet?” Luca asks. “We have this conversation too often.”

“I don’t mind telling you how I feel. Luca, I love you, and I will scream it from the rooftops… maybe not this rooftop because you moved to a neighborhood filled with known gangs.”

You sigh as Luca finally returns your hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing a hand under your shirt to press against your back.

“Tell me,” you murmur.

“I know you love me,” he answers. Moving his hand further up your spine, he adds, “And I love you.”

You smile, turning to sit beside Luca. He leans against you, his eyes stuck to yours as he smiles.

“Don’t ever listen to Rocker, he’s an idiot. I don’t know how he got married before you.”

“Maybe he’s the one that brainwashed somebody.”

Chuckling, you agree with Luca before remembering the surprise you got him. Moving out from underneath him, you disappear into the guest bedroom, and when you reemerge, Luca is watching for you.

“It’s not much,” you begin, “but I got you this.”

Luca pulls you back onto the couch before extending his hand. You lay the small package in his palm, turning to watch him open it.

As Luca removes the paper hiding the gift, you realize you are the lucky one in this relationship regardless of what he thinks about who is out of whose league.

Luca moves his hand to catch the two toys that fall toward his lap. Turning them over, he smiles as he looks at the diecast cars.

“Is this supposed to be Black Betty?” he asks, raising the vintage Hot Wheels S.W.A.T. van.

“I saw it and thought of you. Like I said it’s not much, but-“

“It’s perfect,” Luca interjects. “You’re perfect.”

Leaning toward him, you take the van from his hand so he can examine the matching police car.

“You deserve nice things, Luca,” you remind him. “And you deserve to be happy with whoever you want, no matter what your team says.”

Luca nods, setting the cars on the table before pulling you into his arms. He doesn’t always have the words to say, but his actions and everything he does for you show you that he loves you and wants you, even when thinking he doesn’t deserve you.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk into S.W.A.T. HQ the next week, after receiving a less-than-informative text from Luca, you cross your fingers that any teasing he encounters won’t push him as far as last time.

“Somebody get a chair lift for Luca! He needs to get to another level before she realizes she left him behind!” Street yells when he sees you.

Luca hears the commotion as Tan and Hondo join in on the teasing and rushes out to meet you. He hugs you, keeping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you toward the situation room.

“What’s it like dating someone who’s so far out of your league?” Rocker asks, a teasing smile on his face.

“At least we have standards and didn’t scrape the bottom of the dating barrel,” Luca replies, “but that’s more of your thing, right?”

Rocker’s jaw drops, and you press your lips together to stifle a laugh. 20-David, however, doesn’t try to hide their amusement, turning their teasing to Rocker as they follow him out of the ring.

“That was unexpected,” you say, smiling as Luca continues walking again.

“Still want to marry me?”

“Of course,” you answer without hesitation. “Wait, right now?”

Luca raises his brows, smiling as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “Not what I meant, but why not? You’re all I’ll ever want.”

Luca cups your jaw, and you whisper, “Reassurances are my job.”

#dominique luca x reader #dominique luca #swat cbs #requests #fem!reader

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finelinevogue · 1 year

Text

tough love training

summary - you attend defence training with the most attractive shadowsinger

word count: 2k

a/n: fic is basically what it says on the tin.. i made up a character so you could get mad at someone without them being an existing sjm character!! bit of angst and near death experience in this fic..

It was another day in of training up in Windhaven.

Everyday you still wonder why you had chosen to train here and not at the local self-defence classes down in Velaris, because you weren't exactly the fittest, no thanks to your asthma, and you weren't exactly the bravest.

You had chosen to train with the fiercest instructors to have existed in the Night Court, in order to prove your worth to yourself.

Your whole life your parents hadn't been that loving and would never really acknowledge your presence. But that is how parents treated their offspring in the Court of Nightmares. They would run little experiments on you and treat you as a specimen rather than a daughter. You got used to it over the years but never got over it. Joining this training was an effort to prove to your parents that you were more than a science experiment.

That and you had found yourself incredibly attracted to Azriel, the Shadowsinger.

Azriel had been one of the founders of this training camp, specifically made for women who wanted to gain confidence and self defence skills. His sister-in-law, Nesta, was the one whom had initially come up with the idea and his brother, Rhysand, had funded the activities.

Azriel and Cassian joined as instructors without hesitation, knowing how sparse training for women was across the courts.

You and around 10 other females stood in a semi circle in front of Nesta, Cassian and Azriel, awaiting instructions for the morning session.

"Okay, listen up! Today we are going to do one on one combat. You lose, you're benched for the rest of the season." Nesta explained.

“Winner gets to skip the 10km run tomorrow.” Cassian added the prize, earning a round of cheers and excited nods.

"Choose partners and then let's go." Azriel finished off the talk and then you were off to find your close friend, Gwyn.

On your way over to your ginger-haired friend, someone aggressively nudged you. You didn’t need to turn around to guess who it was, but when you did you weren’t shocked to see Lia standing there unkindly smiling.

Lia had had an issue with you ever since she figured out your crush on Azriel. She, too, had a mad crush on him but to the creepy point of bringing him gifts all the time and holding onto his biceps without permission. Maybe Azriel liked her back, who knows?

"Can I help you? " You questioned Lia, looking around to see if anyone has noticed.

"Let’s be partners." You looked around to see if anyone else wasn't partnered up, but unfortunately Gwyn had partnered up with someone else having thought you were going with Li today. You sighed. "It also looks like you don't have a choice."

"Fine. But push me like that again..." You were cut off.

"Lia? A word?" It was Azriel. "Make your way over to the training mat Y/N. Lia will be over in a minute."

You couldn't get any words out so you just nodded your head, making your way over to your area. Looking back at Lia and Azriel you expected them to be flirting, but instead found Azriel angrily pointing a finger at Lia. You had no idea what it was about but Lia looked quite sheepish after Azriel was finished talking.

Lia walked over to you with her head held lower than its usual prideful self. "Listen Y/N. I think I'm gonna work with Cassian today. Azriel said he wants to intensify my training."

Lia didn't look you in the eyes, but you were glad she would be gone. You nodded and walked over to a bench in your training area, taking a quick drink before walking over to the punch bags. If you couldn't do one on one combat then you would just have to tirelessly punch a bag instead.

You heard footsteps behind you and thinking it was Lia back for a second bite, you sighed and asked. "Can I help you?"

"I should be the one asking you that." Azriel chuckled with that charming smile, making you turn around with a blush on your cheeks for your tone of voice.

“Azriel… I…”

"Also that’s an extra 1km tomorrow for being cocky with me." You rolled your eyes and turned back around. "Don't make it 5." He said firmly.

You turned around smiling and went back to punching the bag. You didn't have much upper body strength, or any for that matter, so it made punching the bag a lot harder and painful than anticipated. However, that was the whole reason you were here - to build muscle and improve your self defence.

You heard Azriel sigh behind you. "You're weak today."

"Yeah I've heard that my whole life, yet it's still not done anything to solve the issue." You stopped punching the bag and turned around to face Azriel, crossing your arms in the process with annoyance.

"Well that's only because they haven't helped you find your strengths." Azriel smiled.

"What, and you're willing to?"

"Yes, actually."

"Listen Azriel. I’ve been bossed around my whole life and I don’t need someone new mansplaining my whole life away. If I end up nearly dead on a battlefield then I might need a few pointers. but for now I'm going to fight on my own."

You turned back around to start punching again, but Azriel caught your wrists before you could swing at the punchbag. Not only did his touch deliciously burn your skin, but when he pulled you closer to him your whole body set aflame from how warm and comforting he felt. His warm eyes looked down upon you and you licked your lips to looked away before he could truly read you.

"Y/N. I don't think you heard me correctly when I said I will help you. Normally people don't turn down an opportunity for help." He gave you a questioning look.

"Well then I’ll be your first." You tried turning around but Azriel still had a firm, but gentle, grasp on your arm.

"Stop being stubborn." Azriel almost shouted at you. "Y/N I want you to progress with these sessions... I... I... need you to be that good that you won’t end up nearly dead on a battlefield." You'd never seen Azriel so choked up on his words.

As he was talking he started to let go of your hands so they fell back by your sides, his skin still burning beautifully in the after-feeling. You stared at him blankly. What did he mean? What did "need" mean to him? Was it possible he might like you too?

"Need?" You quietly ask.

You stared at him hoping to catch his eyes. Azriel just coughed quietly and brushed his hand over his mouth. He then quickly departed the scene and left you wondering what the Mother that was all about.

••••

It was later in the evening that you found yourself in the training area again.

You continuously punched the punchbag, your hands slightly bleeding from the blows. One punch for your mother. One punch for your father. One punch for your messed up childhood. One punch for being weak. One punch for the inevitability of becoming nobody. One punch for Azriel. The last punch was enough to set you off crying.

You rested your forehead on the punching bag and cried softly to yourself, your hands and body tired and weak.

"It’s pathetic how hard your try, only to fail.”

Your head whipped around to see Lia standing there, watching you like you were the most pathetic being alive.

"I haven’t failed." You stood up straight and wiped the tears from your eyes with your bloodied hands. You weren’t going to let Lia see you for what she believed you were; weak.”

"Don't lie to yourself, Y/N." She chuckled. "You have two options. Either you quit these sessions and make it easier for yourself. Or you one on one combat me, right now, and prove to me you're worth more than what I know you are."

“I’m worth more than you think.”

“Aww is that what Azriel’s been telling you?” She cooed. Your heart tweaked at the mention of Ariel’s name.

You heavily sighed, not going to let her taunt you anymore.

You were ready to walk a tightrope over a cavern or jump out of a tall building, but no. Just as you were feeling your weakest you would have to fight. "Ohh. Is that a sigh of defeat?"

"No. I accept your challenge." You looked her dead in the eyes whilst tightening the bandages around your wrists, wincing as you did so.

You both took your starting stances on the combat mat, trying to control your breathing for what may come next.

Lia made the first jab right into your throat which threw your balance off, and gave Lia the chance to kick your legs from underneath you. You plummeted to the ground with force and let out an oomph when you landed on your ribs. "Wow. I mean, that couldn't have been more pathetic."

Lia was expecting you to not stand back up. So you did.

"I'm not done yet." You said, wiping away the sweat on your forehead.

"Alright, but this time last longer than 2 seconds." Lia chuckled.

She ran towards you and you could tell she was aiming for your stomach, but your were quick enough move around her and kick her legs from underneath her. You smiled to yourself as she landed on the floor harshly.

You turned around and shook off your hands, feeling a little more confident now that it was a tie. As you were congratulating yourself you didn't see Lia run up behind you and grab and pull your neck. She started to squeeze and cut the air off from your lungs.

“What you gonna do now? Huh?" Lia chuckled.

You wanted to tap your hands against her arms, as you would do in training, to let her know that you quit because you couldn’t breathe, but she had your arms locked in place too.

Your felt your face flush red as her hold on your neck was too tight. Your eyes watered as you tried your best to move and wiggle your way out of this hold, but nothing was working.

“Gah…” You tried to speak, but only a mutter of sounds fell from your lips.

“What was that? You trying to say something? No one is going to hear your shouts even if you could speak. You’re fucking alone, Y/N. Remember?”

"Is she?” Was the final thing you heard someone say, before your body gave out on you and the world turned black.

••••

You could feel the wind softly blowing on you whilst the birds sang their morning songs.

That's when you realised that you were not in your normal bedroom, but rather someone else's bed. You sat up in alarm and threw your legs over the side of the bed. Too busy to take in your surroundings, you stood up for quickly only to get hit with a spell of dizziness. Luckily someone's strong arms caught you before you could fall forwards.

"Woah. You need to be careful Y/N. You took a hit yesterday." Azriel spoke down to you, his arms warm and strong around your body.

He guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, him following.

You tried to speak but your throat hurt too much. Before you could even signal to Azriel for some water, he was holding a glass for you with his hand that wasn’t still holding onto your waist for support. You drank the water with a small wince as it passed your throat.

“Thank you.” You whispered, not being able to bring yourself to look at him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked in return, taking the glass back off you. Your fingers started to play with each other, picking at your nails anxiously.

“O-okay.” You nodded.

“Lia has been banned from the training programme and Rhys has her on community service for the rest of her life.” Azriel explained. “I would’ve put in her prison, personally, but…”

“If anyone should’ve been banned from the programme it’s me.” You picked extra hard at your nails, only to have Ariel’s hands cover yours to stop you. You heartbeats picked up at the gentle touch.

“Why would you say that?” You turned to see Ariel’s eyebrows furrowed and eyes full of sorrow.

“Because Lia was right. I-I am pathetic and if I can’t defend myself in training, I don’t see the point in trying anymore.” You watched his eyes watch yours with intensity.

“You should know your words hurt me.” Azriel kept focus on you and it was hard to look away.

“How so?”

“Because the idea of you being cruel to yourself is just as painful as watching you slip out of consciousness yesterday. It’s the same pain.”

“But why? I don’t understand…”

Your lips were shortly cut off with Azriel’s on yours. You were taken aback by how soft the fearful Shadowsinger’s lips were against yours, but slowly melted into the kiss. Azriel was careful not to knock your bruised back, but he did not hold back from kissing your existence out of you.

He slowly pulled away with apprehension, whilst you licked your lips to continue revelling in his sweet taste.

“Do you understand now?” He asked.

“You only did that because I talk too much.” You smirked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Shut up, you!" Azriel laughed with you, before kissing you once more. His lips felt so right against yours, even if the thought of this beautiful male was attracted to you seemed so wrong. You could and would kiss him for days if this happy and bright feeling in your chest remained.

"What does this mean to you?" You shyly asked, reluctantly pulling away from his lips to hear his answer.

"Everything.” He nodded with a smile. “Ever since day one I've felt this unexplainable pull towards you. Now, I understand why.“

You smiled lovingly as he carefully took the back of your head and brought you in for a hug. You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, knowing you were safe here and had more than one reason to continue training.

#azriel blurbs #azriel fanfiction #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger blurbs #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel angst

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prettybean · 5 months

Text

GHOST

“A letter for you”

prompt: you were killed in action, ghost writes a letter for you

!! (ANGST) !!

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

Hey,

It's been a week since your body was found on this beach, and a week since my heart stopped beating like it did before. I knew we would get hurt, I told you so many times that I stopped believing it too.

I choose to love you every day like it’s my last, and I’m living with the consequences.

It's cold today and my hands are shaking as I write these words to you that you will never read. It hurts.

When you and I were together, time stopped until we felt alone in the crowd. You told me: We are born alone and die in the hearts of others, we are angels with only one wing and we will only be able to fly by staying together. Now the angel is you, and I am falling from the sky, like rain, like tears falling from my eyes. I cried so much I started hating myself.

Some wounds don't go away over time and are deeper than they look: they heal on the skin, but they change you on the inside. It's hard to breathe if I have no strength left in me, I'm unstable, everything around me is falling apart, I'm at my limit.

I am surrounded only by eternal loneliness and the memory of a smile that is now gone. I live in a cage built by others. I would like to have you here to make you promise, before it's too late, to remember how I was a long time ago.

Now I look in the mirror and I'm paralysed, everything in my heaven is rotting, but not too long ago I was smiling too.

Do you remember when it was all ours? When we made love secretly in your hallway? When Soap teased you because you blushed at the thought of me? Every kiss you gave me in secret, away from prying eyes. Remember me and everything that has been; you know there's no future for those who live in the past. You taught me that we only find the right path when we get lost and are alone, that the best dreams are born from nightmares. I will always be here, by your side; no one will divide us. In life, you always lose everything you want; you can't go back in time. Your memory is inside me; in my memory, you are again that beautiful flower that made me fall in love

Take me with you, and I will take you with me. Together, we will overcome this pain, even if it's difficult, so everyone will know that I love you.

Tomorrow will be a better day because I know there's a place for us. It's cold today, I’m pointing a Glock at my head; I can't feel anything anymore. I want to forget the reality that divided us. I'll wait immobile for death, and now, you know

we can say goodbye

#ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod #cod x reader #konig cod #konig x reader #konig smut #ghost angst #cod keegan #keegan smut #keegan x reader #soap x reader #soap cod #price smut #price x reader #angst

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throneofsapphics · 8 months

Note

Hey hey, as someone who also speaks fluent angst, I was hoping to make a request?

Reader is injured and tries to hide how bad it is?

Could work for any character soo you choose! I do love your poly fics though 🥺🥺🥺

THANK YOU!!

knocking on death's door

poly!Manorian x Reader

Summary: You knew you weren’t dying, but by the looks of it everyone else seemed to think so.

Warnings: major injury, descriptions injuries/mention of blood, angst-ish

Word Count: ~1.7k

A/N: ah thank you! I love this request, thank you for sending it! honestly I love writing poly fics. also anyone if you hit your head please go to a doctor

You took a small tumble down the stairs. You’d been injured worse before, but knew you likely had a concussion and would have some intense bruises on your back and legs. You could already feel the giant one blooming on your upper thigh, and felt the ache in your lower back. But, a good salve and a discreet healer could fix a majority of problems.

The only problem that might come your way is Manon and Dorian. Both of them have the tendency to be fussy. The last thing you wanted was to be on bedrest for a week.

You crept down towards the healing rooms, taking a few servants' passageways, and peering through the door. Just your luck, the only healer you trust not to report to them, a close friend of yours, wasn’t present, and you decided to go back tomorrow - right after they left.

Manon and Dorian weren’t in your shared rooms and wouldn’t be back until later. They had a plethora of negotiations and meetings today and the next few days. A part of you did feel guilty hiding this from them, but they already had a lot going on - you didn’t want to add any extra stressors.

You slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower, washing off the blood from a few cuts, and snatching some of the salve and a pain tonic you kept in stock. With that, hopefully the bruises will fade in a few hours, and the headache should disappear. The small scrape on your palm … that you’ll just have to wait out, but it’s easily explainable. They know you can be clumsy sometimes.

You fell asleep on the couch quickly after.

Manon scented something was off as soon as she entered the rooms - blood. She stalked right for your side, one arm dangled over the edge of the couch, the other curled under your pillow. You were sound asleep, your breaths deep and steady, and only mumbling as she carefully lifted your arm, turning it gently to see a small scrape on your palm. Falling. Again. You were so clumsy it worried her sometimes. She called your name, quietly at first. Poking you when you didn’t wake. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking heavily once you saw her.

“Falling, again?” She raised her brow, looking at the slightly guilty smile on your face. “You need to be more careful.” She exhaled sharply, going to find something to bandage it with, and disinfect it.

“I already took care of it,” you called after her, but she ignored you. Dorian came back shortly after, frowning at Manon wrapping a small piece of cloth over your hand. “It’s over kill,” you insisted, but one sharp look and your mouth snapped shut.

“Did you hurt anything else?”

“No,” you sighed, rolling back to shove your head into the pillow. Manon was a bit suspicious but … she knows you get annoyed when she fusses, and left it for now.

The three of you collapsed into bed, all tired, and a slightly longer than usual nightgown hid the bruises. Your head still ached, but you took another tonic to fight that off. Apparently their day had been incredibly exhausting because they didn’t question anything too much, and the three of you fell into a deep sleep within minutes.

Dorian rose first the next morning, smiling at the sight of you and Manon curled up together. Your nightgown bunched slightly at the side but … purple, he caught a sliver of purple skin. Carefully, he pulled down the blanket some more, shifting your clothing as well. A giant purple bruise bloomed on the side.

He called your name, but you didn’t wake - he woke Manon, however, who spotted the bruise as well.

“Y/n.” She called this time. Nothing. He shook your shoulder slightly, and you still didn’t stir.

A quick scan with his magic showed some kind of swelling in your brain. That’s beyond anything he could handle. He scooped you in his arms, darting out the door as quickly as possible, not caring he was only wearing a pair of long sleeping pants, and sprinted for the healing rooms, carefully cradling your head against his shoulder. Manon caught up to him quickly, thankfully having thrown some clothes on, and asking questions but he couldn’t answer - his only focus was getting you there, as fast as he could.

It took most of Dorian’s self restraint to keep both him and Manon from interrupting the healers working on you.

“She said she didn’t hurt anything else.” Manon’s voice was barely above a whisper, her hand clutching onto his arms, nails digging in slightly. Maybe it would’ve hurt, but he was too focused on the scene in front of him to notice.

You can be a bit clumsy, and Dorian knows that - it’s not unusual for you to come in with some sort of scrape or bruise once in a while but … neither of them asked what happened this time. The day had been long, and they’d been tired. Guilt ripped through him. And you’d lied too - to Manon, saying nothing else was injured, then a dark bruise on your leg and back, and somehow you’d hit your head.

He felt his magic starting to bubble underneath his skin. One of the healer’s noticed as well and turned sharply to them. “We’re taking care of her. Both of you out.”

Manon’s eyes narrowed at the woman ordering them out of the room, but her face was firm, no-nonsense, and unyielding. Dorian pushed her back gently, and she left, somehow without snarling or hissing at any of the healers. They found a small bench no less than 20 feet from the door, and waited. She leaned her head against his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her. The warmth provided an anchor, kept Manon from spiraling too deep into her thoughts. But she can’t help thinking she should’ve checked, she should’ve pushed further. Dorian’s absolute panic had filled her with dread. He always seems to keep his head, always calm.

You knew you weren’t dying, but by the looks of it everyone else seemed to think so.

It was strange, seeming to float outside of your body - watching everyone move around you. You were in and out of this semi-conscious state for days, watching as healers would fuss over you - take your temperature, check your heart rate and breathing, scan for any additional injuries. Swelling in her brain, you heard once - and winced.

The worst part was watching Manon and Dorian. They were pale, their eyes lined with worry, and the bags under their eyes were heavy enough it looks like they might have punched each other. You were never alone, one of them was always there unless the healers kicked them out. Either holding your hand, or sitting next to you.

Once, when Manon wasn’t present, Dorian brought a book. Your favorite, and read outloud to you - his eyes darting over to your face with every other line. All you wanted was to reach out, to grab his hand, touch him and let him know you’re okay, but you couldn’t. Your body was stuck there, limp and pale.

You’d never felt this kind of hopelessness before. Knowing your loved ones are in pain and only able to watch them suffer, not give a comforting squeeze, word, or even blink.

Five days passed, and you were back in your rooms.

At dawn, on the seventh morning, Manon laid next to you, curled on her side, eyes closed, but you could tell she was awake. Dorian was awkwardly spread over a chair, his chest falling and rising in even breaths. Asleep. You watched as tears dripped down Manon’s cheeks. Not once had you seen her cry. She didn’t say a word, no sobs leaving her chest, but the silent tears broke something in you.

You blinked, and you were back in your body. You stayed perfectly still, trying to figure out if this was real or not. Slowly, you opened your eyes. Manon was there, tears still lining her cheeks.

It took more effort than you cared to admit, but you reached your arm up, brushing a tear off her cheek. She leaned into your touch for a few seconds, before those beautiful eyes shot open.

She grabbed your hand, holding it gently between both of hers. “You’re awake.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and hoarse.

Dorian was up in an instant, sitting on the other side of the bed and taking your other hand.

“Hi.” Your voice was so weak it came out as a croak. Dorian let out something between a sob and a laugh.

Reluctantly, Dorian left to grab the healers as quickly as he could. Manon had refused to move - holding onto your hand like a lifeline.

He returned with them, and it was a whirl of questions that made your head hurt, and further instructions. Rest, rest, and rest. Enough rest to drive you insane.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Manon finally asked after the room cleared.

“It .. it didn’t seem that bad.” Your voice was rough and your throat scratchy but you managed to get the words out.

“You hit your head, you’ve been out for a week.” Manon hissed, but kept her voice low. You could have died, went unsaid. Dorian handed you a glass of water, helping you sit up against the pillows. You could sense the … not quite anger, but hurt coming from him. Hurt and fear. You clutched the glass, forcing your hands not to shake, and took a small sip.

“I know,” you whispered. She blinked in confusion. “I … I wasn’t here, but I could see it, sometimes.” Your hands began to shake, water starting to slosh over the edges

She pressed her lips in a tight line, and took the glass from you, pressing it up against your lips. “You’re not getting out of bed until I say so,” was her response.

You glared at her, opening your mouth to say something, but Dorian spoke before you could. “This isn’t a battle you’ll win. I’m on her side.”

“Traitor.” You mumbled.

#throne of glass fic #throne of glass imagine #poly!manorian #poly!manorian x y/n #poly!manorian x reader #manorian x reader #manorian x y/n #manon blackbeak x reader #manon blackbeak x y/n #dorian havilliard x y/n #dorian havilliard x reader #dorian havilliard x manon blackbeak #angst-ish

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v-love · 4 months

Text

The Name “Coryo”

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader, platonic Sejanus Plinth x fem!reader, brief appearance by Tigress.

Warnings: a bit of angst, brief violence, drinking. other than that, fluff. snow is kinda ooc in this, but we all have some guilty pleasures.

Summary: You, Sejanus, and Coriolanus have been friends for many years and throughout the years, you’ve grown to have a longing for Coriolanus. an eventful party causes everything (including your feelings) to be unraveled for both you and Coriolanus to see.

Word Count: 1353

DRABBLE

Requests: Open!

The story continues from the teaser bellow the cut.

the cool breeze brushes your skin gently, sending a soft chill down your spine while reminding you that winter is soon to come. you wait patiently for sejanus to show up as he told you he would, the students of the academy filtering out of the building. the sound of someone clearing their throat made you jump, spinning quickly to see who made the noise. the sweet sejanus you had been waiting for was smiling down at you with his best friend coriolanus at his side.

it took you a second to process that sejanus was speaking to you, your eyes staring at coriolanus before shifting to sejanus. “i’m sorry, what were you saying? i’m in my own head lately.” you say, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Coriolanus didn’t let you know that your staring amused him, choosing to keep his collected demeanor.

now, Sejanus wasn’t stupid. he was your friend as much as he was Coriolanus’, he knew about your attraction to his best friend and if he was being honest, it was entertaining. to his surprise, Coriolanus speaks before he has the chance to. “he said he was inviting you to a party of sorts his family is throwing. we all are invited, i would like you to come with me as my date." Coriolanus says, his voice capturing your attention immediately with his pretty tone.

you were surprised, after all the years you and him had been friends, he had never asked you to be a plus one by him. “i would love to go with you, when is it?” sejanus then hands you a small card in response, one of many you were going to see today being given. “everything’s on there.” sejanus’ familiar eye scrunch being there as he smiled at you. as you looked at the card for the information, you missed how sejanus bumps coriolanus gently on the side, trying to get him to say more.

Coriolanus shoots him a pointed look, not wanting to out the fact that he too was attracted to you. Sejanus rolls his eyes at him a little and just then you look back up, both boys shifting to look at you. “do you want to match?” Coriolanus says quickly, not thinking about a different way to make it sound more appealing. you stare up at him before nodding, a soft blush blooming on your cheeks. “sure, we can match. i didn’t know you liked doing stuff like that.” you say, a smile softly gracing your lips.

he thought he would melt right there if it wasn’t for sejanus speaking up about how he loved the idea of matching with someone. just then, they all hear his mother calling for him from the backseat of their car. Sejanus blushed and bid his farewells as he got into the car, leaving you and Coriolanus alone.

“why do you always call me Coriolanus?” he asks after a beat of silence, looking over at you. you were surprised by the question and looked back at him. “i didn’t know you wanted me to call you anything else.” you responded, your eyes big and wide with curiosity. “well, i want you to call me Coryo.” he says, looking down at you from his nose. you only nod and watch as your ride pulls up to the sidewalk as it always did. “i’ll see you tomorrow?” you ask him, the driver opening the car door for you. “you’ll see me tomorrow.” Coriolanus responds and watches you get in the car, your gaze meeting his.

“i’ll miss you until then, Coryo.” your tone was shy as you spoke, giving him a soft wave as the driver closed the door. he watches as the car drove off into the distance with a warm feeling in his chest. “she’ll be mine.” Coriolanus let the words sink into his mind.

“she will be mine.”

the day of the party came and you were being fixed up. “there’s no way he asked for all these to be done to me.” you mumble as you look at how exquisite you looked. Tigress giggles a bit as she curls your hair. “he didn’t, i did.” she says, ignoring your small protests. her fingers worked quickly to finish you up, the dress sliding on perfectly. “you’re stunning.” she muses, nodding a bit to herself as she circles around you.

later Coriolanus knocks on the door, asking if you were ready to go. as you step out of the room, you watch as his mouth slightly drops. he always knew you were beautiful, but this felt different. he took your hand and led you downstairs to join everyone else.

you all made it to the party, everyone and their mothers actually being there. you and Coriolanus hold each other’s hand as you both walk through the place. Sejanus was quick to greet you both before being swept away to greet others. “care to dance?” Coriolanus leans down and murmurs in your ear.

you agree instantly, wanting to avoid the dumb questions people had about your life. his hands gently guide you and you both dance together. “you look beautiful..” he comments, looking down at you. you smile a bit. “you look dashing yourself.” you say, your lips curling more as you see a tinge of blush adoring his cheeks.

“Tigress truly outdid herself.” Coryo says as he eyes sweep over your form. you felt shy as you looked up at him. “my eyes are uphere.” you say, giggling softly as his eyes dart to yours. “i can’t admire you a little longer?” he asks, a charming smile now on his face.

you shake your head and laugh a bit. “no, not even a little longer.” his hands tighten their hold on you as you dance, keeping you safe almost. “alright then, my lady.” he says with a dumb, regal accent. Coryo was different tonight, he didn’t care about whether or not anyone was watching to see if his cool facade would slips. he was simply enjoying the time dancing with you.

“i have something to tell you.” he says, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “promise me you’ll stay by my side no matter what i tell you…” he says to you quietly. “of course, you’re one of my best friends…” i respond, wanting to say more but letting him continue. you watch as his muscles tense a bit. “im running for president as soon as i can.” he says, watching your reaction.

“president..?” i repeat, looking up at him. “Coryo, that’s really big…” i say, looking a bit worried. “im going to support you no matter what, but i have to remind you of how cruel the Capital is already…i don’t want you involved in this like that..” you say, expressing your concern. Coryo’s hands cup your cheeks. “im sure you’ll change your mind when i say that i want you to be my First Lady.” he gently caresses your cheek as he speaks.

you stare up at him, speechless. “Sejanus is going to be my treasurer…at least i wish him to be.” Coryo speaks again, looking into your eyes. you blush softly and look away. “you want me to marry you.” i state and see him nod a bit. “yes, i do…” he confesses, all the years of that tension between you both breaking.

you reach up and kiss his lips gently, feeling him tense once more before his hands hold you closer. it was a quick kiss, but it sealed your fates. you were devoted to him, he was devoted to you. “you’re my equal.” he says to you, smiling a bit. “we can and will rule Panem.” he says and watches you nod. you kiss his lips again and the night couldn't have ended any better than it did today.

you were his equal. you were his partner. you were his First Lady, although that was to be determined by the public. you were his everything. Coriolanus was ready to go into University with you by his side, already figuring out how to start building up his reputation.

Author’s Note: hey everyone!! i’m so sorry for all the delays, storms were happening and it was hectic. i am planning on making this a series, so i’ll be working on part 2 very soon!!

Let me know your thoughts in my asks or comments!!

Taglist: @diooonna @onlybeeewrites

If you’d like to be added to the taglist please dm me, send me an ask, or comment! <3

pls reblog and like!!

please do not steal my work or translate it.

#v love #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #fanfic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfiction #v-love The Name Coryo #The Name Coryo #v-love TNC

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luckbealincoln · 11 months

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter eleven : he loves me not

THIS SERIES HAS BEEN MOVED AND RE-UPLOADED TO ANOTHER ACCOUNT. WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE. THIS POST STILL EXISTS AS AN ARCHIVE BUT THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER ACTIVE!!

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 4.6k

summary : something has changed in your relationship with the mandalorian

warnings, etc. : language, angst

Something is wrong.

All day it’s been wrong.

He’s different. Distant.

You can’t help but wonder if you went too far last night, he had seemed skeptical at best when you had presented him with the idea, and then the sex.

Sex had always been special with him, no man has ever given you the rush of fire in your veins like Mando. But last night was… somehow even more intense than ever before. Like he had wanted to burn himself into you, permanently.

A small part of you wonders if he did.

But it doesn’t matter because you can’t ask him about it. He won’t even look at you. His helmet faces you but you’ve learned how to tell if he’s really looking at you. There’s a certain chill that runs down your spine, it isn’t there now and you know deep down that he’s looking right past you.

The real giveaway that something is amiss is his voice. There is none of that familiar fondness that you had grown accustomed to. His greeting is short and he makes no attempt to speak to you in the library, so you read. Maybe he just needs space.

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you close your book, not even realizing you’d finished it until you peer out the window, the sun is setting and you realize you’ve spent the entire day in silence. He didn’t read today, he just sat across from the nook like he used to do.

“Is everything okay?” Your voice almost sounds hoarse from not using it all day.

He doesn’t even offer up a verbal response. Just a nod.

Okay so you fucked up. The birthday thing might have been too far, too… personal. That’s fine, you can fix this.

Except you can’t, because when he walks you back to your chambers you lean against the doorway and give him a small smile.

“Hey, you know you seemed pretty stressed today. Maybe I could help with that?” You brought your hand up to his arm in what you had intended to be a comforting gesture but he flinched away like you had burned him. You immediately drop your hand.

You can’t pretend that doesn’t sting.

“Did I do something wrong?” You wish your voice didn’t sound so wounded as you say it.

“No, not at all. You should get some sleep.” His arm gestures inside and that’s when you know he’s lying. Because the helmet isn’t even facing you now. He isn’t even trying. But you don’t argue. Maybe he just needs space.

Tomorrow will be different.

It isn’t of course. He’s the same. If not worse.

Today you only get one word out of him.

“Good morning Mando.”

Nod.

“Library?”

Nod.

“You might like this book, the main character reminds me of you.”

That doesn’t even get any sort of reaction.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

That’s it?

“Okay.”

Nothing.

“I think I want to turn in early…”

Nod.

“Good night Mando.”

Nothing.

And now you can’t sleep.

Because you feel like you’ve done something wrong. Which is stupid, you shouldn’t feel that way, especially regarding your relationship with him. There is no relationship, besides friends. Friends who take care of each other in several ways.

Are you even that anymore? How are you supposed to keep track of the persistently changing status of your friendship with the Mandalorian when he can’t seem to stop being indecisive.

Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover.

Lover? Is that the right word for what he is? It feels right but at the same time like it shouldn’t be spoken aloud. Something about the intimacy of the word makes it difficult to connect to him. Like you’ve put up barriers to specifically separate him from the word.

Why can’t he just pick one and stick with it? Preferably he would choose to be your friend.

That’s what this is isn’t it?

That’s what you want?

You’ve deliberately been forcing that label on to him, so it has to be true. He is your friend.

Then why do you feel hollow now that he’s suddenly shut you out? Not sad, not angry, just… hollow. Like something is missing. There aren’t a lot of words that can describe the empty ache in your chest.

Today he wasn’t your friend. He wasn’t even your rival, he went a step further than that, separated himself from even that shred of connection you two had built your entire bond on.

Today he was just your bodyguard.

Weeks of slowly built up companionship gone in an instant because what? You threw him a birthday party? Surely that can’t be it. Yet seemingly that is the case. What was it he had said to you that night?

You shuffle through your blankets before finding the book. You were practically using The Smitten Paladin as a diary at this point. You had bookmarked the page with the necklace, scrawled it above a random chapter title in hopes of remembering it.

ner kar’taylir darasuum

It had been branded in your mind the moment he said it. The moment he had dismissed himself you had written it down, something about the way he had said it had made it stand out to you. Most of the time when he spoke to you in Mando’a it always seemed like he couldn’t help himself. Like the words were forcing their way out of him.

But not this.

This was the first time you truly believed he had intended to say those words. They didn’t fumble out clumsily like he couldn’t form sentences in Galactic Basic fast enough. No, he had said this with a reverence that settled deep in your bones, like you were a priestess and he was confessing his sins.

Maybe that’s why he was being so cold. You had previously gotten into an argument when he had called you sarad’ika for the first time, maybe this is like that. That still doesn’t make sense though because the only reason why he got so mad was because you had asked what it meant. You assumed you were past this sort of thing though.

Maybe you had done nothing wrong. Maybe he was just angry for the sake of being angry.

You’ll ask him tomorrow, you’ll put your foot down and make him talk this out.

✩

You don’t even get a chance to chastise him for his frigid demeanor.

You’re already in a bad mood when Elain and Lysa come to dress you in the morning, and your mood only gets worse when they bring an electric blue dress out of the closet and you realize what day it is.

By the time you’re leaving your room you’ve practically got steam coming out of your ears, when you give the Mandalorian a dismissive “good morning” he returns your greeting with an unmistakable sorrow that gives you whiplash. The last two days he had been cold and dismissive at best but this was new.

He sounds miserable.

Your anger dissipates almost instantly when you notice the distinct tilt of his helmet towards the floor. What if you’d been wrong? What if you’d done nothing to upset him and instead he had just been having a rough couple of days. Shame washes over you at the thought and you shoot him a sympathetic look, your immediate reaction is to comfort him.

“We don’t have to go to the library, you know. If you want we can do something else.” You don’t make a move to touch him, even though you want to, you say it almost like you’re trying to comfort a wounded animal, like you don’t want to scare him off.

“I don’t mind the library.” It’s never been easy to read him, not being able to see his face has always put you at a disadvantage with this sort of thing but right now it’s like there isn’t a barrier of steel between you at all. It’s like you can view him clearly, and what you see makes your stomach churn because he’s got the same tone of voice that your parents had the day they told you you were being sent away. Someone who's avoiding delivering bad news.

“Okay.” You lose all the motivation you had to talk to him, consumed by the uneasy feeling in your gut as you make your familiar trek to the library. You sit in the nook, instead of finding a book you lean against the glass of the window. A subtle sadness settles in you as you watch the grounds, occasionally a servant will walk by, or a critter might scamper out past the edge of the forest for a moment before retreating back to the treeline. You stay like that for hours upon hours, you don’t realize how long you’re staring until you feel yourself almost dozing off as the sun sets, you wake up with a start and decide to busy yourself with a task. Abruptly standing up you start wandering through the shelves.

The library is vast. It’s easy to forget how big it is since you usually stay in the same spot. It’s a maze of shelves once you get into it. It’s actually surprising to you how little you’ve actually explored considering how much time you spend in here but your nook is only a few shelves back from the entrance and most of the fiction novels that interest you are kept near the front so now that you’re actually exploring further you’re taken aback by the sheer expanse of dark polished wood and literature.

It probably wouldn’t be noticeable if you weren’t already on edge but he’s standing further back than usual. It’s just a few steps but it pushes him out of your peripheral vision.

All those days you had spent wishing he would just give you some space only for it to finally happen and you can’t even enjoy it. A small part of you misses your steel shadow.

But that’s not important now. Right now you need to stay focused on the task at hand. Your strides get smaller and smaller as you get into linguistic books.

Perfect.

Your fingers trace the spines as you turn your head to the side to better read the titles. Someone must dust at night because your finger is spotless when you pull it back.

One of the few perks of Princess Harand, this library is, for all intents and purposes, completely yours. Kodo certainly doesn’t read, you’ve already discerned that he finds it to be a waste of time, his family seems to share that opinion since you’ve never seen another living soul in here besides you and Mando. That’s why you can’t hold back the look of disbelief when you get to the “M’s” and there is a single empty place where a book should be.

You don’t have to speculate, you know who took it. You turn to stare at the culprit.

“Did you take the Mando’a translation book.” It isn’t a question, it’s a statement, as you cross your arms.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, just staring blankly at the absence of a book.

“Yes.” It’s strained, he sounds worn out.

“When?” You want to take a step towards him but resist, opting to lean against the stacks instead.

“A while ago.” He’s lying. It’s nearly imperceptible but the helmet shifts ever so slightly to the left when he says it, like he’s looking away.

“What day? Was it the night of your birthday?” You shouldn’t be interrogating him, it feels wrong when he sounds so weary but you need to know.

“It wasn’t my birthday.”

“How do you know? You said you didn’t keep track, it very well could have been.” It’s a weak excuse but it’s better than nothing, he doesn’t respond for a beat so you keep going. “Was it? After we had sex did you come here and take this book?” The helmet turns further to the left. “Did you?”

“Stop it.” He’s clenching and unclenching his fist methodically.

“Answer me and I will.”

“I took it before then.” There’s that familiar electricity in his voice. His fist stays closed this time and you can’t help but feel a fleeting sense of relief that he’s showing the faintest bit of emotion.

“We agreed we wouldn’t lie to each other.”

“When?” The helmet finally turns towards you. It’s funny, missing the feeling of cold steel being turned in your direction.

“When we played the game. We said no lying, so tell me the truth.”

“You want to hold that over my head? Some stupid game?”

The game isn’t stupid to you.

It’s one of the few things you’ve found enjoyment in these last few weeks.

But you aren’t here to defend the game, you’re here to get answers.

“You aren’t denying it.”

It only takes two of his long strides for him to tower over you.

“It doesn’t matter when I took the book.”

“It matters to me.” You take one small step forward to press your chest against his, scowling into the thin black line on his helmet. He scoffs.

“A lot of things seem to matter to you that shouldn’t.” He turns on his heel and you find yourself missing the heat of his body, but not for long as his words sink in.

“What the hell does that mean?” You can feel your voice going up at the end of the sentence as your fury starts to boil over but he’s already walking away.

“You’re going to be late for dinner. Come on.” He doesn’t bother turning to see if you're following as you stay hot on his heels.

“Wait a second, we aren’t done with this conversation.” You have to hike up your skirt to keep up with his pace now as he weaves through the shelves, you’re grateful that he remembers the way out though, you can easily see yourself getting lost here.

“We are.”

“Says who?”

“Me.” You walk briskly in furious silence until reaching the large wooden doors. You don’t have any time to argue further because he’s opening them and continuing his beeline towards the dining hall. You can’t help yourself as you grab his arm and pull him to face you. He does but you know it’s of his own volition and if he wanted to he could just keep going so you need to make these next seconds count before he changes his mind.

“What is going on with you? Everything was fine and out of nowhere you got all… weird. It’s like you’re a ghost these last few days, just walking through walls and observing me.” You whisper yell at him, no one is in the corridor but it’s best not to risk it.

“Nothing is wrong with me. Now go, you’re going to be late.” He motions at the ornate doors but you stand your ground.

“Promise me we’ll talk about this tonight.” He doesn’t move, just stares at you as you glare right on back, unwilling to break first until after an eternity he sighs.

“Fine.” The static is low and impatient.

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Say that you promise. I’m pretty sure your creed has something in it that means you can’t break it.” You have no idea if that’s true but you need to hear him say it.

“I promise that we will talk tonight.” He sounds almost defeated but you’re satisfied as you enter the dining room.

The first red flag is that your husband doesn’t immediately greet you. He loves the sound of his own voice, so why is he silent? Kodo raises his glass at you with that unsettling smile plastered on his face as he motions for you to sit. You cautiously take your seat and find comfort in the fact that he doesn’t dismiss Mando this time as he takes his familiar stance behind your chair.

The second red flag is the realization that he’s drinking water. He hadn’t even been sober during your wedding ceremony yet here he was, as steady as you’ve ever seen.

The third red flag is that the first thing he says is a question directed at you as a servant brings you a plate of what appears to be some sort of fowl.

“Did you have a good day my dear wife?” There’s a sickly sweetness to his voice and you can feel the fainest perspiration forming on your skin.

He doesn’t know.

“It was perfectly fine. Just another boring day in the library.” You stare at your plate, picking at a tomato slice with your fork, you suddenly have no appetite despite not eating today.

He simply hums in approval and eats in an eerie silence. It’s the first time in your marriage where you actually wish he would just say something. The only noises in the room as you eat are the scrapes of his knife against his dish and the occasional vulgar chewing noise from him. He always chewed with his mouth open.

Dinner comes and goes.

Plates are taken and you sit staring at him expectantly as he loudly sips at the water in his glass. You’re about to stand and dismiss yourself from this hellishly awkward supper but he clears his throat and you're frozen in place.

“I’ve heard some rumors going around, my sweet wife.” He sets the glass down and stares at you, a glint of something viscous in his eyes.

He doesn’t know.

“Oh? Something about your brothers? Or you cousins?”

“There are rumors that I am cruel to you. Am I cruel to you, wife?”

“No, you are a wonderful husband.” It’s not your most convincing lie.

He couldn’t possibly know.

“Then why am I also hearing rumors that you were seen in the markets with another man.”

For the first time ever, it’s freezing cold in this castle.

“I-I went with Mando, he’s my guard of course he was with me.”

“Arm in arm. I believe this is how it was described.” He finally motions for a servant to bring over a bottle of a sickly brown rum, the thick liquid filling his now empty glass. “He’s the help my dear, sweet wife.” He points at Mando, standing silent as ever behind you, it makes you sick that he talks about him like he isn’t even there. “He is to walk behind you, not next to you. It says things to observers when you allow him to walk beside you.”

“I didn’t mean for it to say things he was just doing his j-”

“People love to talk. And you wouldn’t want people to say that I cannot control what is mine, do you? Of course that can’t be the case because if it was that would mean that I have been humiliated. ” He says the word with a venom you have never heard from a living thing before yet you are certain you will hear it again in your nightmares.

“That was never my intention I only meant to-”

“Do you know, sweet wife, what the most dangerous thing in the galaxy is?”

“...No.”

“A humiliated man.”

You don’t have a response as he takes what you assume to be his first sip of alcohol tonight. You’re waiting for him to drop the bomb. To reveal that he knows but he doesn’t and you find yourself releasing a breath that you didn’t realize you’d been holding in.

He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t even suspect.

He’s just threatened. This is an easy fix. Apologize and just be more careful with Mando.

“I’m sorry my prince.” You put on the most convincing frown you can. “I didn’t realize but I’ll be more careful from now on. The last thing I’d want to do is upset you.” As you wait for his response he downs his entire glass before letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Of course you will. You’re dismissed.” He waves you off and you immediately stand before rushing out of the room, you’d almost forgotten Mando was with you until you catch a glimpse of him as you make your way out. The last thing you hear is Kodo muttering to a servant to find his brothers so they can go out.

The relief you feel once you're out in the hallway is immense. You don’t get to enjoy the small victory for long because Mando is already marching off towards your room. You don’t say anything until you’re in the safety of your room, he walks in first and once you close the door behind the two of you, you turn to face him, ready to crack a joke about how that was a close call, maybe relieve some of the tension that’s been building between the two of you but he speaks first.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” You find no comfort in the familiar crackle of the modulator as he stares just off to the side of where you’re standing.

“What? It sounds like you’re outraged but you genuinely don’t know what he means.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” He says each word slower. Enunciating every syllable.

You manage to keep the look of betrayal off your face as you feel something crack deep inside of you.

“Like… be my bodyguard?” You sound like a child. Your voice is small and fragile.

“No. I’ll still be your bodyguard. I just don’t want to… you know.” He gestures slightly with his hands and something about the way he says it ignites that flame inside you.

“Why won’t you say it? Are you ashamed of what we did?” There’s an edge to your tone. A bite. “Because you seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit.”

“You know what I’m talking about. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He’s already leaning towards the door and you can feel a sense of panic filling your stomach. You can’t just let him leave.

He doesn’t get to do this. Insert himself into your life, make you care about him, fuck you, and then just leave.

“What is your problem?” You snap at him, you mean for it to sound forceful but it comes out more like a plea.

“I just don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that. What happened? We were fine, I would even argue that we were happy and now suddenly-”

“There is no we. ”

Ouch.

He’s right of course.

“Is this because of the birthday? I told you if you didn’t want to do that we didn’t have to.” You’re starting to sound desperate as you stare at him with wide eyes, wanting an explanation more than anything else.

“No. You didn’t do anything. I just… I don't want to anymore.” He crosses his arms. He sounds tired. Like he hasn’t been sleeping. You sound the same way. He takes a step towards the door but you immediately take a step in front of him.

“Bull shit. You- you said things, you called me those things. Don’t act like you suddenly changed your mind.” It isn’t fair. You know that you sound like a child throwing a tantrum but he can’t just do this to you.

“Stop it.”

“No! You don’t get to do this! To say the things you said and then without warning just decide we aren’t even going to talk to each other anymore.” You shove his chestplate but he doesn’t so much as flinch. “I deserve to know what I did. What made you change your mind?” Tears are pooling in your lash line and you want to scream at yourself for letting him see how worked up you were getting.

You shouldn’t care this much. You’re the one who wanted this to be casual, you know that. This shouldn’t matter. You’re supposed to be just friends. Yet you can’t just let him leave.

“Stop.” You can’t prove it but you’re pretty sure his voice cracks, the modulator seems to catch it.

“Just tell me! You said we were friends, be my friend right now, tell me what’s going on, for Makers sake, just tell me!”

“I don’t want you anymore.” His tone is harsh as the visor burns in your direction.

Oh.

Any response you might have dies on your tongue.

That cracking feeling is back. It threatens to tear you apart.

Just friends.

You knew you were lying to yourself when you said it.

You can’t hide from it anymore.

The pain you feel in your chest can’t be ignored, you can’t keep denying it.

He was never just your friend.

But that doesn’t matter now. Because he doesn’t want you.

You could hear a pin drop in your room. You’re about to say something, you don’t know what but the words are starting to take shape when he speaks again.

“I was… bored. You were entertainment.” There’s no tremor in his voice now. But he won’t look at you anymore. “I just needed something to distract me from how boring the job was and you seemed like the easiest thing.”

That pulls you from your shock.

“ Easiest? ” You practically snarl the word and he starts stuttering as he tries to backtrack.

“You know that isn’t what I meant. You were just, I don’t know, available? You were here. And I was bored. But now I’m not.” He sounds like he’s trying to rationalize the insult to soften the blow but it only serves to drive the knife deeper.

“You’re lying.” You whisper the words at him, the tears are moments from spilling down your face at this point. He lets out an exhausted sigh.

“I don’t want you.” He says it with a finality. “I’ll still be here to protect you, I’m not going anywhere.” Somehow that’s worse than him just leaving entirely.

“You’re a liar. Why would you stay if you don’t want me?” Your voice is starting to pitch up. It’s pathetic, you wish you could hide behind layers of steel like he does. Impenetrable walls to keep those who mean you harm at bay.

“The money.”

That’s really all it takes to convince you. You feel like an idiot. Of course he’d do anything to keep you happy, this was probably the best paying job he’d ever had. He had entertained himself with you and you had let yourself get caught up in a fantasy that it might be more than that. It’s the final nail in the coffin. You blink and the tears finally fall. His voice is cold and unsympathetic when he speaks again.

“I thought you understood what this was.”

“I did. We’re just friends.”

Now you’re the liar.

Even if you don’t let yourself think it, you’ve always known that was a lie.

“We aren’t. This is my job . We were never friends, I was just trying to keep you satisfied but clearly I went too far. You aren’t my friend. You aren’t my anything.”

Ouch.

“I think you should leave.” You wipe your face with the back of your hand as you walk towards the closet, not bothering to watch him leave. As you turn the door handle you hear the faint crackle of the modulator, like he’s going to say something but you close the door behind you before he gets the chance.

You don’t bother taking your dress off as you collapse in a heap onto the blankets and pillows.

You shouldn’t let yourself hope that he’ll come to you. Apologize, or even just keep you company. Of course he doesn’t. So instead you bury your head into a pillow and cry until there aren’t any tears left. Then you stare at the ceiling in the darkness. Trapped alone with your own thoughts.

Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover, nothing.

You aren’t his friend.

You aren’t his sarad’ika.

You aren’t his anything.

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#din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin smut #mandalorian smut #din djarin/reader #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader

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lincolndjarin · 9 months

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter eleven : he loves me not (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 4.6k

summary : something has changed in your relationship with the mandalorian

warnings, etc. : language, angst

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!