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hotluncheddie · 7 months

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high masking autistic steve harrington follow on from this post

ao3

wc: 2.6k | rated: T | cw: description of a meltdown with semi aggressive stimms | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie and robin but this is about stevie), hurt/comfort, stobin soulmates, steddie, steve Harrington has shitty parents

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

he failed. he graduated. but he failed. those unsaid words between him and his parents. some get said. the bad ones, about him, they get said. over again like he’s 5 and being told is behaviour isn’t acceptable. that how he is isn’t right. ‘shape up or ship out’, basically. steve knows he can’t go anywhere new, not right now. only freshly recovered, physically at least. mentally; he’s still unacceptable.

when steve works at scoops. it’s so fucking bright in there. so fucking bright, all day and he can’t focus and talking to people gets so much harder. it’s not like school where he can zone out in class and turn it on during lunch, in between, keep up his face with the people around him and sink back into his head during chemistry. no. now it’s all the time, customer after customer. that he has to talk to, put on a smile for, read so he gives them what they want and they leave happy. it’s exhausting. girls don’t like him anymore, they don’t react to him the same way. he doesn’t think he likes them much either though because they’re so much more annoying when it’s so fucking bright.

but robin (robin who cycles to work with sunglasses on and doesn’t take them off till she has too) she turns the lights down during open and close. so those couple hours, it’s not so bad. not so stressful. a little bit less loud.

after the mall burns down steve starts letting her in. tries too. she makes it obvious enough to him that she wants him there. she asks him to stay and calls him at night and he just wants to be enough for her. eventually he’d swallowed his pride and bolstered his courage and called her after a string of nightmares. asking her to stay the night. but then she was there, and it was like everything was thrown off. she was grating on his already freyed nerves but he didn’t know what to say. how to fix it without upsetting her.

but that night, a mirror of the mall bathroom played out in steves en-suite. steve had freaked. hidden. but she didn’t leave. and he tried to explain.

he needs her but he doesn’t know how to have her as a true friend. ‘i dunno how to talk to a girl if i don’t wanna date them. i uh, maybe, don’t really know how to talk to someone as myself. as a friend. sorry.’

‘well i don’t know how to talk to jocks so. same boat.’ and she has this glint in her eye. like she knows. and it’s okay.

because robin, she made it simple. she makes it easy. she says just ask and she’ll be honest and give him a yes or no. she’ll say if she can’t be touched right now, or if the movie he chose is pissing her the fuck off. and she wants the same from him. if the music is too loud, if she needs to let him not speak for a while. wants him honest and present and real. real friends. someone close. finally.

it’s rocky at first. she’s honest and he’s not used to it. it feel like criticism more often than not. makes him see red and lash out, like he was never able to with his parents. but he apologises and she stays. and he’s learning; that’s it’s okay, he’s not perfect and that means she’s knowing the real him. and she’s still his best friend even if he has to tell her to stop picking her nail polish off around him because it makes him want to die. and she laughs at him the first time she sees him in real recovery mode; hair not styled and he has on the only sweatshirt that ever feels good when he’s like this.

they lay on the floor in darkness and silence. it’s perfect. they share a tin of soup and a grilled cheese. it’s perfect.

being around robin as much as he is, its so new, having someone see so many parts of you. sometimes she laughs at him asking steve ‘why’d your voice change?’ but steve didn’t even know it had. he was, he was just talking to someone else quick, being nice like you’re supposed to, attentive to make them feel good. he didn’t know his voice changed that much.

‘girls would like you more if you talked normal to them. how you do to me.’

steve swallowed thickly. he just. he just doesn’t know that thats true. nancy left, he talked to her about lots of things, too many things. she like him better at the start. before some of his black tar innards spilled out. before he freaked. before he was able to paste himself back together and she saw him for what he really is.

he thinks of his parents. how they don’t know him and still don’t like him. anxiety prickles at his fingertips at the thought of those times they do come home.

because with them there the routine he’s carved for himself, those quiet moments of darkness that he so craves. they’re gone. now it’s tv static and plates clanging and having to show his face at dinner again. but he’s not ten anymore. now he’s an adult whose still drowning in the tension of the room, never able to say what’s really going on, never allowed to ask how they really feel, never taught how to figure his feeling out. no listening ear for steve as a child, and the ice only grew thicker with time.

it’s his skin itching at his mother stirring her tea across the house, spoon agains porcelain. it’s the hair on the back of his neck standing up at the sound of ice clinking in his fathers scotch glass. it’s triggered memories playing over and over again. it’s being plagued, by ghosts who haunt him, who left but come back every so often, like poltergeists. polietgists with the deed to the house, and ownership over steve, through blood and fear alone.

‘when they get back you come to mine steve yeah? you come home.’

because now theres not just robin. there’s eddie.

he sees everything. and more. even when steve’s trying to hide. eddie sees.

he noticed steve squinting at the hospital and asked the nurse to turn the lights down. he saw how he started zoning out at a diner with the kids, their arguing reaching a pitch, asked steve to keep him company for a smoke break. once they were outside eddie said he just needed a moment, ‘those kids can be animals’. said it and looked a him like he didn’t need an answer, let steve just breathe a focus on the sound of the wind.

it’s like there’s a million tiny moments, a million tiny cracks in him forming the more he’s around eddie. like his soft underbelly is mewling any time he’s around, wanting attention, wanting to let eddie see. let eddie touch.

eddie used to look at him sometimes, across the lunch hall. stare at him with an expression steve couldn’t really make sense of. he used to think it was judgment, annoyance. now he wonders if that face was confusion or interest. maybe eddie’s always been trying to figure steve out.

once it starts. them. eddie’s everywhere. more somehow, maybe, than robin because, you know, they go there. but it’s different, from those time, with those girls. instead now he’s there and his brains off and on in a, like, magical way. a new way that makes him feel whole and, and beautiful.

this thing they have. it’s fragile. it’s not perfect. he messes up, takes him a moment to grasp how eddie can be so so himself, always, no matter what. especially when it causes him problems. ‘why not just try and fit in?’ but the stone faced reply told steve that was the wrong thing to say, he didn’t get it but he needed to respect it. respect eddie and his choices. ‘i’m not like you steve, even if my brain shit was all gone i’d still be poor, i’d still be othered. still be a gay weirdo little freak.’

and steve is trying to get it. he’s learning to recognise that it’s sadness and confusion in eddie’s eyes when he visits him at work, knowing steve is having a bad day and watching him pretend. watching that mask form thick and fast, hiding the real him, protecting but also keeping everyone far far away. steve thinks maybe they’re living parallels. finding different ways to survive. neither better, neither worse. both far from perfect.

then that pinched sadness in eddie’s eyes. watching steve pretend. cover up. that damn breaks eventually. eddie sees all of him and more. those bits he always kept locked inside. between he and himself. it all comes spilling out.

they were supposed to be going out soon. but eddie wasn’t feeling it anymore ‘let’s just stay here, be cozy a little longer. what do you say, sweetheart?’ it does sound nice. steves so tired. but they decided. they had a plan.

‘we said we would. and i have to buy that thing eddie. we had a plan. and i have to go to work later, so we have to do it before. like we said and then i have to work eddie.’ and before he knows it there’s tears prickling his eyes and the ceiling fan is so loud and the desk lamp is too bright and he smacks a fist to the top of his head and it hurts a little but he’s so frustrated and so overwhelmed and so confused and embarrassed, suddenly. and he can’t breath. why can’t he breath? they had a plan.

they were supposed to go see hopper and pick something up and he has to talk to him and ask about the game because he needs hopper to like him because it’s better when el can come when all the kids hangout. it’s important that she’s happy so hopper needs to trust steve so steve was going to talk to him today and pick something up. it was the plan. hopper makes him nervous but that was the plan. and then he had to go to work. but now he can’t breathe and he feels like he needs something to hurt.

‘but he already trusts you with el stevie. hop trusts you with anything.’

‘i can’t know that. not for sure. when i talk to him it needs to be perfect.’ steve paces. a pinch at his arm. a tug at his hair. pivot. pace. repeat.

‘i heard what he said to you steve, on your birthday, he was calling you son all day. you don’t need to prove anything to him.’

‘i do eddie! you don’t understand. people, they lie. adults lie. they don’t say things the way they mean. i can’t fuck up talking to him. not like i always fuck up talking to my parents. i need to do it better. do it differently. because everyone always leaves. and i just don’t want to be alone again.’ and the tears really start to fall and steve can barely breath and he’s so embarrassed. shaking hands try and cover his face but the tears slip through.

and all he can think about is the plan. going to work. his vest hanging by the door. the way the plastic tapes feel in his hands. the smell of the bleach they mop the back room with. the day stretches before him. so many things in the way. so much anxiety still to come. if he can’t start, it can’t end. he gnaws at his lip. thumps a hand to his chest, trying to breath right, trying to ground.

‘i have to go to work’ he mutters. like a prayer. speak it in to happening. taking him away from the now. thump thump thump at his chest. ear ringing.

eddie’s holding his arms out, giving steve the option. he speaks so calmly, so earnest. ‘you can’t go to work steve. not like this baby.’

steve rounds on him. angry. when did everything get so messed up? if he was just left alone. he should’ve stayed on his own. ‘i cant just call in sick eddie! i’m not sick and and i hate the way they’ll sound when i say it over the phone and knowing what they’ll be thinking about me. they’ll know i hate the job and think i’m lazy and realise how stupid and useless i am and fire me. i can’t afford to get fired eddie. i’d rather just go in.’ he know it comes out garbled, his cheeks on fire.

‘i’m not letting you go in steve. i’ll sort it. i’ll go pick up robin before and she’ll cover for you, she’ll explain. and she would never. ever think that of you.’ eddie’s voice dropped octave. he speaks clearly and plainly and finally there’s a new plan to follow. a new rule for the day.

and all steve can do is curl up in a ball and sob. curl up in a ball against eddie chest, in his arms, squeezing his t-shirt between his fingers. clenching his muscles tight, his teeth grinding together. grunting out some of the decade old scream, still stuck there but more visible to him now.

until finally finally, he relaxes. spent and exhausted. too afraid to open his eyes and face the lamplight, face what could be in eddie’s expression. he drifts..

eventually he gets up, blows his nose and splashed water on his face, turns off all the lights and get back under the warm blanket. fills his lungs. sighs. whispers, ‘m’sorry’

‘don’t say that. there’s nothing to apologise for’ eddie’s so close, so warm.

‘no one’s supposed to ever, see that.. it’s okay if you want to leave’

‘steve. why the fuck would i leave you right now?’

‘who’d wanna date someone who acts like that? it’s. it’s not good eddie. but, but it’s okay. i’m used to being alo-.’

‘please stop stevie. your breaking my heart here. i want to stay, i want to be here with you. i really really like you steve.’ and steve’s cheeks feel wet again. he feels flayed open and young, like a little kid who fell off the swings and everything is different suddenly.

later later when eddie picks robin up from work she stalks in to where steve’s wrapped up on the couch. curls up into his side and exhales. she bites into his bicep. huffing a sad, annoyed little ‘dingus’ before grabbing his hand and fiddling with his fingers.

steve feels his eyes prickle again. looking up at the ceiling he croaks out a small ‘sorry.’ for the day. for everything. for anything he can be. and everything he can’t.

robin kneels on the sofa right next to him. growling a little and placing one of her hands at his sternum and the other at the same height on his back. like she’s forcing herself inside him, holding him together. her hands start to rub up and down quickly, frenzied and grounding for both of them. steve let’s his head hang. eyes closing at the sensation. he grunts. robin grunts back.

eddie joins. sitting at his other side. slipping a hand in steve’s hair, soothing his scalp with long scratching fingers. and steve humms, sighs, keens. eyes closed he drifts but not away from his body, instead into it. with gratitude, and warmth. at the centre of the two best things that ever happened to him. willing to try again. be just, better. never perfect.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

pt 3 snippet

a little happier for u @pearynice <3

ty @spectrum-spectre @vampyreddiemunson @fangirlycupcake @grandwretch for ur tags and additions, it was very inspiring

and tags for lovely @irethsune @willim-billiam-byerson @2jug2head

#hope this is okay #i know the comfort isn't like loads but #unmasking is fucking hard #and hes simply doing his best #autistic steve harrington #steddie #platonic stobin #hotlunch #my fic #steve harrington needs a hug #but he gets one so its okay #feel nervous about posting this but let’s fucking go my dudes #pls let me know if u like it 👉👈

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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bad liars (savior complex ii) - joel miller x f!reader

part one | masterlist | song inspo |

Baby, you're a vampire You want blood and I promised...

summary: It's been a month since Joel has last seen you, fully healed since your last interaction. But you haven't spoken...at all. Your radio silence becomes cause for concern when he hears about an outbreak of Infected at the hospital where you work. There's enough explanation in this part that you could read it on it's own, probably, but I'd highly recommend reading part one first to get the full experience. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7.9k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. (porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, oral, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, age gap. dom/sub dynamics.) Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, canon-typical suffering! Blood mention. Both reader/Joel are insanely emotionally unavailable, and love to lie to themselves and each other! (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: Ya'll loved savior complex and I'm so happy! Literally don't think I've had a fic get that many notes before, i had so many requests for a part two and because it felt like i left things open-ended enough, this came to me pretty easily! It might be the horniest thing I've ever written and also very angsty (what's new?)....but I think you'll like the ending <3 Special to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about my writing and to @zbeez-outlet for the wonderful idea.

Joel exhales and runs his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair – the tips of which were frozen together from standing outside for so long. It had gotten cold out. Very cold. Boston always did this time of year, and because of it, people stayed in, and crime in the QZ dropped, making it a safer place - though that wasn’t saying much.

Of course, the cold didn’t stop him from dealing. It did make his job a hell of a lot more difficult, since FEDRA was bored, out looking for trouble, and didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Although today, he must’ve been in luck, because the only sign of FEDRA had been helicopters and tanks that were clearly on a mission, driving to the opposite side of the QZ. Good, he had thought. A distraction.

Joel leans back against the brick wall of the alleyway, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his ears, stares at the ice in the cracks of the pavement. When he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, he straightens.

The man approaching looks nervously over his shoulder, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his flimsy sweatshirt. Dave, a customer of his for some time.

“You’re late,” Joel doesn’t bother with a proper greeting.

“I know, I know, I got held up on my way here,” Dave answers, immediately beginning his excuse. “They cleared out the hospital because of an outbreak, that whole area was locked down so I had to take the long way.”

“Outbreak?” Joel tilts his head.

“Infected. I guess a bunch of hospital staff got bit. FEDRA had to go in and put them all down.”

Joel feels a distant pang of concern somewhere in the back of his head. “How many?”

Dave shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man, that’s all I know. It’s not like they’ll ever tell anyone what actually happened.”

Joel can’t help but think of you. He knows a couple people who work at the hospital, most of them through smuggling, but you’re the only one who he’s really able to bring to mind at the moment.

“So, can we, uh…”

Joel pulls the plastic baggie out from his pockets, fishing out the pills. On his end, Dave produces a wad of credits, his shoulders sagging in relief once they’ve made the trade and the drugs are in his hand. He takes one immediately, shoves the rest in his pocket. “Thanks man, I’ll see you next week?”

Leaning back against the wall, he nods, and watches his customer disappear down the alleyway.

The second Dave is out of sight, Joel’s chest tightens, and he takes a deep breath. There’s no reason why news of Infected at the hospital should concern him. If FEDRA had been called in – they would’ve gunned down anything that moved until it was under control. He knew, better than anyone, that they would do unspeakable things in the name of keeping order. Innocent people probably died, but the dead can’t get infected.

It had been about a month since Joel had last seen you, after he’d gotten beaten within an inch of his life and ended up on your doorstep, and you were the only person that could help. It hadn’t gone at all how he expected it would – at the end of the day, he had been surprised by your tenderness.

Still, despite that you’d let him take you on the edge of your bed, legs wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock, he wouldn’t really say that it changed anything about your relationship. He had actually been kind of afraid that it would, that your attitude towards him would shift to something more amicable.

But you hadn’t spoken to him in a month. Joel had told you he owed you one after you stitched him up, and had anticipated that you’d take him up on his offer pretty quickly. There were so many things he could do for you to make your situation better. Maybe you’d need credits…. Medicine…. Food…. Booze… Pills, something, but you haven’t reached out. You could just be biding your time until you really need the favor.

Still, the radio silence takes him aback. He should be relieved that you aren’t talking to him. But nothing? Even if it’s not about a favor…he wants some kind of confirmation that you’d both made a mistake. After all that, did you really expect nothing from him?

It dawns on him there’s now a chance you’ll never speak to him again, because you’re one of the ones that FEDRA killed. Or worse….you had gotten bit.

Joel passes by the hospital, taking the long way home. Everything is locked down, taped off. There’s a crowd around the place – family members, he assumes, pleading with FEDRA agents for information and getting nothing in return.

“Go home. I’m sure they’ll turn up,” he hears one of them say to a weeping woman. It’s useless to ask for an honest answer, for one of them to actually care.

Joel could go home. He could crush a couple pills, snort them, and quell the burn with a couple drinks. He could fall into restless sleep and wake up the next day as he always did, go about his business as usual. Survive. One day at a time.

Would he ever get confirmation that you’re alive? Because at this rate, he’s not sure he’ll ever know either way.

The feeling is going to linger. He hates it. Were you gone? If you are, he can handle knowing. Its somehow worse not to.

He tries to justify it to himself. You’re one of his solid connections to the hospital, you’d traded with him for medical supplies before. This is business, really, if he thinks about it that way. If you’re dead, he and Tess need to find someone else to work with.

Joel decides to take a detour on the way back to his place.

It’s past curfew when he arrives at your apartment, the sun has long since dipped below the horizon and with that comes an even harsher cold. Boston winters, he thinks to himself. If he is capable of missing anything, he’d say he missed Texas. Before all this, the last place he’d be caught dead was on the East Coast.

Joel raps on your front door. He forgets how shitty your building is, that you sleep here alone every night, listening to your neighbors arguing through the thin walls, shady characters slinking out of shadows in the dimly-lit hallway,

A few seconds pass. When he hears nothing behind your door, he knocks again, a little louder.

More time passes. He knocks again, louder. Maybe you didn’t hear him.

Nothing. He does it again. Could you be asleep? His jaw clenches.

Still nothing, and Joel knocks even louder. Maybe you’re not even here, and you work nights, and he’s just missed you as you head out for another shift. But he knows that’s unlikely. Since he’s known you, you’ve never worked nights. So where the fuck were you?

Joel’s pounds on your door, yells your name into its chipping paint. He listens for something, anything, on the other side, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, but he keeps going The side of his fist starts to hurt, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he hears one of your neighbors yelling from the end of the hallway.

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Joel doesn’t hear exactly where the voice comes from, but it’s enough to snap him out of it. He halts his movements, his forehead falling against hollow wood, and in the silence, hears his heart pounding in his ears.

“Fuck!” he kicks the wall just outside the frame of your door so hard the drywall gives, leaving a hole behind. “Fuck.”

He stares at the result of his outburst for an undetermined amount of time. You were all alone. To his knowledge, you had no immediate family to inform. Who would be around to remember you? He’d never really know for sure what had happened.

“Joel?”

He looks up, his hands still clenched tightly into fists. When he sees that it’s you, standing at the end of the hallway, they loosen.

You look horrible - haggard, tired, your hair tangled and matted. As you move closer to him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders are hunched underneath the weight of your backpack. But once you’re standing in front of him, you straighten, lift your chin.

“What is this?” you ask. “What are you doing here?”

There’s no animosity in your tone, he thinks. You might be trying to put some in there, but you don’t have the energy to do so, so it just comes out sounding very flat.

Joel realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have a reason. A real reason that wouldn’t….give him away. He puts his hands on his hips, thinks desperately. You do nothing to help.

When he settles in silence, offers you nothing, you just sigh and shake your head. Your teeth are chattering, lips cracked from the cold, and you seem desperate to get into shelter, twisting your key into your lock and opening the front door. Once you step inside, you flick on the lights. He follows you, closes the door behind you both, and locks it.

“Oh, yeah, come on in, I guess,” you say over your shoulder.

Joel crosses his arms, standing in your kitchen.

“What, am I in trouble or something?” you ask. “Because if I am, you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve showered.”

“It can wait,” Joel says, and sits at one of your kitchen chairs.

You shrug off of your backpack and leave it on a chair, then unbutton your coat, tossing it on top. Joel swallows hard when he sees the damage it’s been hiding. Your scrubs are dirty, tattered in some places, one of the sleeves hanging, partially ripped off. And they’re covered in dried blood. It’s smeared on your arms, on the back of your neck. Not yours, he hopes.

What the fuck happened to you? You don’t turn to see his reaction, don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s going to ask about it. It’s almost like he’s not even there, and you clearly wish he isn’t.

He realizes then, that he has the confirmation he’s looking for. You made it out alive. He doesn’t actually need anything else from you. And you’ve given him a perfect out. He can leave while you’re in the shower.

But he doesn’t. Not when he hears the shower start, or the screech of the curtain across the metal rod, the sound of water hitting the basin. He stays there, motionless, until you duck out of the bathroom with your arms wrapped around yourself, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair damp and teeth chattering.

You pad with bare feet onto the tiled area of the kitchen, brushing past him.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks.

You finally look at him, like you’re surprised he spoke up, or even asked the question. A choked, bitter laugh leaves you, and you shift your attention away from him, reaching into your cabinet for a bottle of bourbon. “Pass.”

You pour yourself a whiskey, and Joel watches you throw it back in one go, your nose scrunching up, your hand clasping into a fist as you take the shot. The taste doesn’t stop you from pouring another drink and gulping that one down, too, without as much of a reaction as the first. It’s only when you start pouring the third that he intervenes, standing and crossing the room to cover the glass with his hand before you can grab it.

“Slow down,” he says.

“I know you’re not telling me what to do in my own home.” Your mouth opens as you look up at him, incredulous.

Joel looks past you, shakes his head. He supposes your right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch the self-destructive behavior, which is funny considering how often he engages in it himself. He gives in, removes his hand from your glass. “At least…pour me one. You shouldn’t drink alone.”

Your expression softens slightly, and he’s able to see all the pain you’re hiding, just for a flash, before you turn to retrieve a second glass from your cabinet.

Once you hand him the whiskey, he sits in the middle of the tiny loveseat you’ve got in your front room, expecting you to sit in the armchair across from it. Instead, you approach with your own drink, nudge his knee with your own, and Joel slides over to make room so you can fall onto the couch beside him. Much closer than he’d expected.

It’s surprisingly good bourbon, and he wonders how many times you’d wasted it by downing it like you just had, instead of taking your time, savoring. He waits for you to get settled before he speaks again.

“What happened to you?” he tries once more, a little softer this time.

There’s some contemplation on your end, you look at him for a moment, then at your glass, then back up at him again. He can almost see you trying to figure out how much you’re going to share, but he wants to know everything.

“There was an accident at the hospital,” you answer, finally.

Joel slings his arm over the back of the couch, angles his body towards where you’re curled up, legs tucked underneath you. I’m listening.

Your voice stays even, blase. “A guard at the border broke protocol…and someone who was infected was brought in. By the time we realized, it was too late….”

“Were you hurt?”

“Almost.” you say. “I mean, yes, actually, I’m a little scratched up, but…it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”

Your teeth start chattering again. Joel wonders if it’s because of the cold, or your nerves. Figures it’s probably both.

“My coworker turned and I uhm….I had to…” you say into your glass, your free hand flexing like it’s trying to shake off some unpleasant muscle memory. “I had no choice.”

“I understand,” For whatever reason, he spares you from telling the story. To him, taking down Infected was nothing. But to you…“What else?” he presses.

You shrug, avoiding his eyes, one of your arms coming to grip at your opposite shoulder. “I can’t really remember. A bunch of people died. FEDRA came in and just started gunning everything down….” you shook your head, and straightened up.

“I heard about that,” Joel offers.

“Wait…you knew about this?”

“Yeah.”

“So then why are you here, asking m-” the rest of your sentence drops off, your lips parted slightly. The look on your face shifts, slowly. Your eyes narrow. Remorse turns into something more neutral, then into curiosity. “Oh my god….you were worried about me.”

“No.”

“Yes, you fucking were,” your lips curl slightly, it’s not quite a smile, but it’s something close to amusement.

“No,” Joel defends himself. “I wanted to hear what happened from someone–”

“No you didn’t,” you interject, but he raises his voice to finish his thought.

“–who actually works there, not FEDRA’s propaganda.”

“No you did not. You’re checking up on me. You came over here after curfew to see if I was–”

“Enough,” Joel growls with enough conviction that it shuts you up, and he’s grateful, but its not enough to wipe the self-satisfied look on your face, because it doesn’t.

“What are we, like, friends now?”

He doesn’t answer, and slugs back the rest of his whiskey.

“Or would that be too much for you?” You don’t wait long for him to give you an answer, probably because you know he won’t respond. “I mean, if we’re both being honest–” He definitely wasn’t being honest. “–Today was really fucked up.”

You’re leaning forward now, some of the space between you is gone. And though you’re trying to give the impression that you’re unphased by everything, your hand is clenched tightly around your glass, and you avoid his eyes. It’s painful to watch you resist the urge to trust him. Not that he’s ever given you a good enough reason to – he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he wants it anyways.

“It’s funny…” you say after a while. “I remember thinking that I didn’t want to die. At least… not like that. I’ve never felt that before…That’s something, isn’t it?” you ask him.

Joel looks at you, and is surprised at the vulnerability in your expression, sees you looking for some kind of validation from him. “....It is.”

You finish off your drink, and put the empty glass on the coffee table, shift closer to him.

“It looks like you healed up okay,” you say, after a spell. “How’s your shoulder?”

“A little sore, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Did you take those antibiotics?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And I can’t even tell you had a black eye.”

“I’m fine,” Joel asserts.

Another shiver wracks your body, and he can tell this one is actually from the chill – your apartment is cold as fuck, it even is starting to bother him.

“Don’t you have a heater?”

“Kinda,” you glance over at the radiator in the corner. “Sometimes it works.”

“What do you do when it’s colder than this?” It was only November, things would only get worse.

You shrug. “I don’t know….just be colder, I guess.”

Joel imagines you curled up in your bed alone, wrapped in a thin comforter, shaking in front of him like you are now. He winces.

“How long are you going to stay?” you ask, changing the subject.

“I should probably go now.”

You nod, scoot closer. “But maybe…” you trail off, contemplating.

Joel sits up straighter, prompting you when you don’t speak again. “Maybe what?”

��Maybe you could stick around for a little while longer.” There’s a warm hand, yours, that lands on his thigh, and he recoils like you’ve touched him with a fire iron. He rises to his feet.

“Hey,” you stand along with him, step in front of him to block the pathway to the door. He could easily get past you, obviously, but it’s not as simple as that.

Of course he’s fucking thought about what happened the last time he was here – his arms around your waist, his mouth on your neck, your chest, your hands on his shoulders, whining his name. A freak accident, a glitch in the matrix, a statistically improbable thing.

“What?” he asks as you step forward, the fingers on your free hand sliding into the belt loops of his pants. He feels blood rush to his cheeks, to other places. And you’re still fucking shivering. You look so fucking miserable, he wants to yell at you to put on a coat, to wrap yourself in a blanket, in his arms.

“Joel,” you say his name softly, tilting your head up, leaning close. And then your hand is on the side of his face, and he realizes you’re fucking pleading with him. He knows what you want, but he has a feeling this isn’t just about sex. You’re looking for comfort, as if he’s capable of giving it.

“We made a mistake…once,” he tells you. “We’re not going to make it again.”

He says it to hurt you, but it doesn’t work. It’s like you knew it was coming all along. “I knew what I was doing,” you answer, earnest. “Didn’t you?”

Yes. You glance down at his hands, which are squeezed into fists so tightly, his knuckles are white. If he’s not rigid, he’s not sure how he’ll be able to resist. He wants you. God, he wants you. He never thought he’d be able to have you again.

“I could help you loosen up.”

Joel’s walking on the edge of a one-thousand foot cliff and hoping his foot slips. He wants to surrender. The only thing he thinks might save him is to say the meanest thing he can. Maybe you’d get turned off.

“Listen to yourself,” he says, finding the strength to meet your eyes. “You want me so bad, you sound pathetic.”

“Asshole,” you step closer, your mouth twitches, your lips are inches apart. “Do you think I care what you think about me?”

Joel realizes his plan has backfired. But he really only has himself to blame, he should’ve known better. With you, he’s never in as much control as he wants to be, and deep down, he likes it.

“Go lie down on the bed.”

It’s the only thing that seems to shock you. “What?”

“I won’t ask you again,” Joel steps backwards, crosses his arms. “Go lie down.”

──────

If you told yourself a couple months ago that one day you’d find yourself pinned down by Joel Miller, you’d think it’d be because he was about to kill you. Maybe because you cheated him out of something, maybe because you did something else to piss him off – it didn’t really matter. Regardless of how fucked up it was, that idea would seem more dignified than what was happening now.

Your back is being pressed deeper into the lumpy old mattress, and he’s on you. His mouth is warm, hot, wet, and dragging down your neck, nipping, sucking, licking. Your hands are itching to reach out, to skate down his torso, trace along his jawline, tug at his hair, but you can’t because he’s got them pinned above you with only one of his own. Anytime you try to fight him, his grip only grows stronger.

It was shameful, really, but you had asked for this – begged for it, basically. There were a number of reasons why – one of which was to blow off some steam after a near death experience, the other because you’d fucked him before and it had been good, much to your dismay. There was also a third reason that you weren’t interested in acknowledging now.

After the night Joel had gotten jumped, and you’d taken care of him, everything has changed. It’s a cliche, but true. You’d known what you were doing when it happened, and had no regrets. But it was probably not supposed to happen again, and you tried to keep it that way, more for his sake than anyone else’s. But….he was the one who showed up tonight after he’d heard what had happened. It wasn’t nothing.

Joel pulls away from you so abruptly that you gasp, shivering in the wake of his impossible warmth.

“Sit up,” he instructs, and you turn to find him at the end of the bed, arms crossed.

You obey, mostly just for the view. You hope to admire him, fresh from kissing you – flush skin, wet lips, tousled hair. Only he’s frustratingly stoic, unsullied – like he hadn’t been touching you at all.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do.

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s nothing,” you agree.

“I won’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Good,” you watch his shoulders loosen, just a little, and he takes one step backwards, his eyes tracing down your body and then back up. “Strip for me….”

You aren’t dressed sexy at all, you remember, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. If you had thought this through a little more, you might’ve tried to make it nicer for him. “....Okay.”

“Start with your shirt,” he says, and you grab at the hem, but he snaps at you. “Ah-ah….slower.”

You swallow, nod, and carefully lift the fabric, dragging it up over your stomach, over the swell of your breasts, revealing your tight, thin white tank top.

“That’s it, nice and slow.”

Joel’s voice is soft but stern, a low rasp that makes your cunt clench around nothing, and he’s not even touching you. The sweatshirt is pulled over your head, falling somewhere on the crumpled bedspread.

Languidly, you lean back, shifting your weight to get off the mattress, and Joel palms himself through his jeans. You can see where he’s straining against the denim, and you find it hard to tear your gaze away as you go to pull off your sweatpants. Joel stops you again.

“Turn around.”

You do, and you’re sure he has a nice view of your ass as you slide them over your hips, bending over to let the fleece pool around your ankles. Slowly, you rise back up, looking at him over your shoulder for approval.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. Your stomach flips. A month ago, you would’ve done anything to get him to stay away from you, and now, you’re terrified to disappoint him.

That’s the problem. You’d spent most of the day fighting for your life — literally. But even after standing behind a barricade of heavily-armed FEDRA soldiers outside the hospital, you didn’t feel as safe as you did when you saw Joel at your door. You need him. For now, at least.

“Now the shirt,” he tilts his head towards the mattress, nodding encouragingly.

You get back on the bed, sitting back on your heels, and begin to pull the tank top up. It’s your last layer up top, you’re not wearing a bra, and you’re feeling a little vulnerable with him just watching you, fully clothed and composed, your gaze falling down to look at the threadbare linens.

“Eyes up,” he instructs. “Look at me.”

Taking in a shaky inhale, you do. It’s not easy. Everything about him looks dark, animalistic. A coiled ball of energy, waiting to pounce.

But, even when you’re bare before him, he doesn’t.

“Lie back, close your eyes.”

Of course, you don’t refuse, settling your head against the pillows.

There’s a sound of a belt – his belt, unbuckling, the snap of a button, the dip of the bed where he kneels when he comes to hover over you. Two hands land on top of your thighs, pressing the backs against his denim-clad knees, thumbs pushing your legs further apart.

And then…nothing. He’s still. He’s still for so long, that you actually think that something’s wrong. When you open your eyes, you’re met with a view of the underside of his jaw. You can just make out the pinched expression he’s wearing as he looks down upon you. Disdain, maybe…but it’s not meant for you, it’s for someone else….him.

“Joel,” you murmur. Instinctually, you reach for his hand.

The second it makes contact, he smacks your hand away so hard your whole body jolts. “I told you to close your eyes.”

“Sorry,” you mumble quickly, closing them again.

You are well aware that he’s actively working through shit, probably doing some kind of mental gymnastics to rationalize why it’s okay to fuck you again, which, when you really think about it is kind of….pathetic. It’s the only thing that makes you feel any sort of power in a situation where you’ll surrender everything else. It’s a fair exchange.

Maybe, on a different day, you would want it softer. You’d like to think he’s capable of that, even though he seems determined he isn’t. Luckily, you don’t want it softer. After today, you want to be so far gone you can’t think.

Joel answers by leaning down and catching you in a bruising kiss. Finally. You press yourself against him cause you’re freezing and he’s so warm, and you frantically begin to unbutton the flannel he’s wearing, making it about halfway down before he pins your hands above you again.

“Slow down.”

You whine, a little frustrated because all you want to do is touch him. The fingers on his free hand hook around the elastic of your underwear, and he starts to drag them over the curve of your ass.

He’s got to be joking with how deliberately he’s moving, anticipation only building underneath his featherlight touches.

When he’s got your panties around your ankles, you slide your legs together so he can pull them off entirely, keeping them closed as his weight shifts, and your thighs are pulled back apart.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he doesn’t need to feel you to see it clear as day, with you spread open in front of him. “So fucking desperate.”

He’s all-but glaring at you, like you’ve done something wrong, and for a minute, your eyes flick away, just for a second of relief from the tension.

“What, are you embarrassed?” he asks.

“N-no,” you stammer, though it was supposed to sound confident.

Thankfully, he doesn’t press you, his head dipping down to press his lips to your knee, then an inch higher, then an inch higher, then higher – keeping his eyes locked on yours the whole time, an arm winding around your thigh.

“I wanted to do this last time.” A confession.

“Yeah?” you sigh, trembling. It’s maybe the nicest thing he’s said to you, but you can’t even acknowledge it, because you’re buzzing.

He turns his face, his beard scraping along sensitive skin. “Mhm,” his deep rasp vibrates directly to your cunt, and when his head dips down, you close your eyes – it might just be better to focus on only one sensation at a time, you’re not sure you can handle seeing what he’s about to do.

Joel’s mouth is on you the second you do, and you gasp. He licks up the seam of your lips, mouth latching around your clit, swirling with his tongue, and back down – firm, determined, practiced. You try to buck up, but he has an arm locked around your hips.

He removes himself from you just enough to utter two words. “Stay still.”

You want to protest, but you realize that he’s let go of your hands, and it gives you the opportunity to thread your fingers into his hair, while you dig your heels into the broad expanse of his back, and he groans, tongue curling into you.

“I’ve thought about this,” you gasp, answering his earlier admission.

“When?”

“At night. More than once.”

“Fuck,” Joel growls, and you wheeze when he works one finger into you, forcing you to take it along with his next words. “You know how fuckin’ bad that is? Dreamin’ about a man nearly twice your age?”

“I d-don’t care, I want you anyway. Y-you can do whatever you want to me,” It’s too early to be past the point of speaking coherently, it really is, but you’re already there.

“F-fuck,” Joel repeats himself, and pushes another finger inside you next to the first, the stretch almost uncomfortable, but quickly fading to pleasure. “I’m going to.”

You’re not the going to tell him, though, that he’s the first man whose ever gone down on you, because you’re a little fucking scared for some reason. It’s intimate, very intimate, more than you expected.

The truth is, you weren’t actually very experienced at all. You could count on one hand the number of partners you’d had, and still not use all of your fingers. While some of them were good enough, they all paled in comparison to Joel. There had never been anyone like Joel.

His fingers curl as his tongue swirls around your clit and you cry out, inhale sharply. Minute by minute, you’re getting wetter and wetter – can hear yourself with each twist of his fingers inside you, bearing down on him.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, and your eyes flutter open just for a second, just to see his forehead, dark eyes staring back at you, and his hips dipping, rutting against the mattress. God he’s getting himself off to this. As hot as it is, the thought of not getting to feel him inside you causes a rush of anger.

“F-feels so good,” you’re right there, already, and it’s pitiful.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says. “You’re already so close, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, you just nod, gasping. Joel works you right up to the precipice, hands tightening in his hair, hips lifting off the bed – and then he slows a little – just enough – to pull you back off the edge, and you let out a humiliating sob.

“Shhh!” he hisses with his mouth still on you, resuming the steady pace he had going. A little sigh of relief when you feel your release approaching again. He just lost his rhythm for a moment, it was nothing.

Again, he’s got you right there, you’re so close, hips jerking, breathing in short, sharp pants, something molten working its way up your spine. “Joel, that’s it, please I-”

He falters again – just enough. And it’s gone again.

You realize, with dismay, that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He hadn’t lost his rhythm. He’s doing this on purpose.

If someone asked – not that anyone would – you wouldn’t be able to recall how long he keeps you in that state, being dragged and dangled, but denied the privilege of falling. It’s torture.

And at first, you try to be patient. You figure he’ll grow tired, desperate, and eventually want to move on. But apparently, he doesn’t want to move on. He’s content to keep you this way for as long as he sees fit, and you can’t handle it any longer. It’s starting to hurt.

“Please, Joel, let me-” you gasp.

“Let you what?” he pulls back from you, frustratingly too soon, once again.

“Let me come, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please, please-”

“Just a little longer,” he dismisses you.

All you can do is pant and writhe, completely at his mercy. He keeps going like that, and you’ve stopped trying to filter yourself, the sounds he makes as he laves at you are obscene, you can see yourself glistening on his chin, and can feel the sheets damp beneath you. At this point, he’s enjoying this more than you are.

“Joel,” you plead with him again. “It’s too much, I c-can’t. Just, please I really need-”

“You wanna come for me, baby?” he asks. You nod ferociously.

“Yes, please, please,”

“You’re so fucking sweet when you beg, you know that? ” he murmurs. “Wish you were like this all the time.”

“Fuck off,” you manage, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You should do this to me more often.

Joel chuckles, and it vibrates just right, his fingers curling again and you moan, hands tightening in his hair. He’s focused now, you can tell because the constant stream of filth he’s been whispering has finally stopped. He’s persistent.

You’re unable to stay quiet, continuing to whimper just like that and please don’t stop over and over. And then all at once, every muscle in your body grows tense and you cry out, cunt pulsing around him so tightly that his fingers slow. “There you go, pretty girl, that’s it.”

You whisper his name as he continues to fuck his fingers into you, riding you through your orgasm and licking up the mess you’ve made.

At some point in the aftermath, Joel withdraws from you, and you hear the sting of his zipper. It takes a moment, but you’re able to see him through heavily lidded eyes, kneeling in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned all the way, pants around his ankles, jerking himself slowly in his hand. God he’s fucking huge, how had you forgotten about that? He’s a vision, beard still wet with you, looking down, watching your chest rise and fall. In that moment you realize two things. One, even though you’ve already come, you somehow want him even more than you had before, and two, you’ve never wanted to suck a dick so bad in your life.

So you sit up, crawl towards him, and reach out with one hand to take him in your palm. He lets you, sighing, closing down his eyes. First, you have to kiss him, so you rise to your knees, and he pulls you into his arms, one of them winding around your waist, the other coming to rest at the small of your back. “You take such good care of me,” you whisper.

He grimaces at the words like they’re an insult. You expect him to retaliate, to tell you that you shouldn’t say that sort of thing, but he never does. So you kiss him, gently, bringing your free hand to the side of his face. Once again, he lets you, and you taste yourself when his tongue presses into you mouth. You run your thumb over the head of his cock, and he hums against your touch, almost contentedly.

You’re doing whatever you want to him, and you’re shocked he hasn’t put a stop to it. It could be satisfying enough, you think, just to keep kissing him like this. Still, you sink back towards the bed to test things further. You’re about to wrap your mouth around him, but he pulls you off by your hair, so quickly, so hard that you yelp.

“No.” he says firmly. “Lie back.”

“But I just wanted to-”

“No.”

You consider trying to reason with him, but decide it won’t be worth whatever he’d do if you continue to argue.

Joel braces himself with one hand above your shoulder, the other wrapped around his cock, slowly teasing you by rubbing himself up and down a few times, before he gives in, finally pushing into you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp at the stretch, reaching out grasp at his bicep, arching your back. He’d prepped you, and it was still too much.

“You can take it,” he says, pressing deeper into you. His hips are all the way flush with yours, he’s to the hilt, and he still snaps them even further, once, holding you there, so deep, you feel like you’re choking on him. “See? There you go.”

It seems like you can’t quite catch your breath, and you squirm underneath him for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from how intense it all is. You can feel him throbbing inside you, feel how badly his own body is begging him to move, but he doesn’t.

“Joel,” you cradle the back of his head, look him in the eyes. “Move, please.”

He doesn’t answer, he just brings his hand to grip your jaw, his thumb and forefinger pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks.

“Please?” you murmur again, and his thumb slips into your mouth, silencing you. You suck on it obediently, and after you do, he finally gives you what you want.

──────

Joel told you he wouldn’t be gentle, and he isn’t.

He hadn’t been able to do this last time. Taste you, spread you open, fuck you properly. His hips snap against yours – ferociously, unrelenting, over and over. You’ve been going at it for awhile now, and he actually wants you to break. He wants you to tell him to slow down, to be a little more tender, not press into you so deep, so hard, so that if he listens, it wouldn’t mean he’s breaking his own promise. He’s got to be rough with you, because he’s afraid of what could happen if he’s not.

But you don’t break. You fucking take it, take him, each time, again and again, your nails digging into arms, your legs locked around his hips. Each time he delves into you, you’re getting wetter and wetter, and yet, you’re still so fucking tight. He doesn’t understand it. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s been with a woman like you – and you might be the best he’s ever had.

You’re not even making any noise – you’re just panting, gasping in Joel’s ear as you cling to him, and that’s all. He can’t even look you in the eyes. If he does, he knows you’ll see everything that’s wrong with him, and still beg for him to give you more.

Two hands land on either side of his face, turning his head so you can kiss him. Despite how he’s treating you, you keep trying to connect, to ground yourself. For as much as he wants to refuse, it feels too cruel to deny you. He lets you lock your lips with his own, feels your cunt clutch him even tighter. It’s impossible for you to kiss for more than a few seconds at a time without it getting broken up by a whimper here and there. You’re getting close again, he’s started to get better at recognizing it.

“You’re fucking so perfect on me, baby, you feel that?” he asks, and you nod, breathless. “Taking me so well, such a good fucking girl-”

A gasp from you cuts him off, your eyes squeezing shut as you are taken over by your climax. Joel groans and does everything he can not to come when you start pulsing around him, holding him closer, since there’s nothing else to do. It’s way too intimate…because it’s missionary, and he should’ve known better than to start off like this.

Pulling out of you is the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and he ignores your noises of protest now that he’s left you empty. Then, he flips you onto your stomach. He takes a moment to admire the curve of your ass, how it dips into your waist….to him, your body is perfect, and you’re young, your skin still supple and smooth. There are still places he hasn’t gotten his mouth on, and it’s a shame, he thinks, but tonight his patience is wearing thin. Joel pulls you back until you’re on your knees, and slides back inside. There’s a little resistance, you whimper, but it’s easier than the first time. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other across your chest, and starts to jerk his hips upwards, into you.

“Oh fuck, Joel,” you sigh in relief.

“I know, I know.”

You drop your head back until it falls against his shoulder, winding your arm back so you can pull at his hair, which kind of fucking hurts, but he likes it.

Ultimately, you’re pretty easy to please, and it’s not long before he feels the telltale flutter of your walls as you drip down over him, soaking his lap.

“You’re making a fucking mess, baby. You gonna come for me again?”

All you can do is plead with him. “I can’t, Joel. I can’t do it again, please just-”

“Yes, you can,” he interjects. “I know you can, baby, don’t worry…I’ll help you.”

“O-okay.’

He slows the roll of his hips just a little, focuses on deeper, longer strokes, and lets the hand that’s currently squeezing one of your tits fall to where your bodies are joined, finding your clit immediately.

You whine, arching back against him, the swell of your ass packed against his lower stomach. He sees a single tear leaking from the corner of your eye and feels a little guilty for what he’s doing to you. Only a little, though.

Without any warning, for the third time, you’re coming around him – easier than the last time, like always – and he uses the feeling of you throbbing around him to chase his own release, his hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your moans as he becomes increasingly frantic.

He turns his head, rakes his teeth along your exposed neck, and sinks them into your pulse point with a groan. Your breath is hot against him when you whimper in response.

“Just a little more, honey.” He’s so close. You bob your head, though you’ve nearly gone limp in his arms.

Like last time, Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he’s not going to pull out. The thought of deliberately coming inside you is actually what sends him over the edge, and he’s cursing and moaning your name. You whine at the feeling of him pulsing inside of you, arching back for more, even though he can tell you’re exhausted.

It’s fucking freezing in your apartment, and yet, his skin is damp with sweat when he finally regains some awareness of his surroundings. He’s panting, you’re sniffling, a weak smile on your face as you catch your breath. Before he can stop himself, he presses his lips to your cheek.

Joel tilts you both forward – very tentatively, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist. At some point, your hand settled over top of his, and you threaded your fingers between his own, holding his hand across your stomach. You keep it there, even after you’ve settled onto the bed.

It takes a few minutes before either of you move, but it’s you who gives in first, wriggling out from where he’s got you trapped partially underneath him.

You retreat to the bathroom, like you did last time. Somewhere during your coupling the linens have slid down the bed, and Joel settles back against the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head. Now that he’s stopped sweating, he’s just cold, and he reaches to pull the bedspread over him. He should leave, he thinks, before you come out and ask him to. Beat you to the punch. Maybe while you’re still in the bathroom.

A few minutes later, and you return from the bathroom, dressed again in sweats. He hears you pour yourself a glass of water, gulping it down. You flick off the lamp on your bedside table, and fall into bed next to him, lying rigidly on your back. He should reach out, pull you against him, let you settle in his arms. Instead, Joel rolls over on his side.

It’s terrible how beautiful you are, he thinks, watching you stare up at the ceiling, hugging yourself. So beautiful, and fucking smart. You’re strong, too, but not as strong as he wishes you were. Of course, no one could ever be that strong.

He whispers your name. You turn your head, pupils still blown wide with lingering lust.

“You need to learn to defend yourself, to shoot a gun, to fight,” he says. “After today.”

“What?” you roll to face him.

“You said you didn’t want to die,” Joel continues. “So you need to learn. ‘Case something like that happens again.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, you’re gonna teach me?” your voice is a little hoarse after what he’d done to you, and you smirk at him.

“Yes.” It sobers you up, that he’s not fucking with you, or giving you a hard time. “I owe you, remember?”

“You do.”

“So…. I’ll teach you.”

“....Okay.”

“Alright.”

Joel rolls over to his opposite side, and you’re left staring at his back. Arms wrapped around

himself in a tight hug, he waits for you to tell him to go.

You never do.

Instead, he feels the heat of your body as you curl up against him, slotting one of your legs between his own. Your hand grazes up his ribs, over his bicep – a gentle, quick massage – before you tuck your arm underneath his own, your palm flat against his heart.

“What are you doing?” he asks, frozen at how tender the embrace is. It’s a foreign feeling, he can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this.

The tip of your nose hits the nape of his neck, and he can feel your shuddery exhale.

“I’m cold,” you say, like it’s obvious, lips brushing featherlight against his skin. “And if you’re staying, you might as well make yourself useful.”

He can’t roll over and wrap his arms around you. He can’t kiss your forehead or play with your hair or murmur into your ear. He can’t offer you anything in return. Joel decides, though, if he’s going to accept comfort from anyone, it’s going to be from you.

──────

taglist (basically if you asked for a pt 2 on the last part i tagged you): @bbyanarchist @dlwrish @imaginewrites24 @captain-yellow-96 @daisyintheskyewithdiamonds @sludgec0r33 @c0wb0ym3nace

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us writing #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fic #joel miller angst #writing

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deathbecomesthem · 4 months

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Good Neighbors

Artwork by the one, the only, the @dr-aculaaa - There's a sweet treat of another piece of artwork at the end of this fic.

*I'm a shit for neglecting to mention that @jo-harrington commissioned the artwork for me, and encouraged this fic every step of the way.

Super Perv!Eddie x Older!Fem!Reader | 5.4K

A/N: This is a reupload from Chesty based on a random request. Many people were involved in the creation of this beast. I have a love/hate relationship with this scumbag.

*There is no actual sexual contact between this reader and Eddie. He has some elaborate fantasies about her. He crosses lines, and it's uncomfy. I consider this a bit out of character.

Contains: Stalker behavior, crossing of privacy boundaries, a pipe bomb, male masturbation, and cum eating. (and food play)

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Eddie Munson, sweetheart of Forest Hill Trailer Park, is sitting at the picnic table that sits between your trailers. It is 6:30 am. Before you moved into the park, Eddie Munson didn’t wake up before 8:45 am. It’s different now. He’s the kind of guy that gets up with the sun, coffee mug, Camels, and battered paperback in hand, to sit in the crisp spring morning air. To see you.

Eddie is a sweetheart. That has always been true about him, but it’s only been the last few years that it’s an accepted fact within his community. He’s had his fair share of problems, he’s been in and out of legal trouble. He’s made some questionable choices as far as making money goes, but he’s a good man. Always has been. Even Eddie thinks he might be a good man.

Eddie has been walking Mrs. Olson’s terrier every morning and afternoon since she had her shoulder replaced two weeks ago. He does brake jobs for the cost of parts and a six pack for anyone that asks. He even got some lumber and rope to put up a couple of swings around the park for the kids. He has a respectable job down at Danny’s Garage. He’s not just a mechanic, he’s a supervisor now. He’s reliable. He might be a little late in the mornings, but he never misses work, the customers love him, and the guys love that he still has a hookup and can supply cheap herb whenever they ask for it.

This morning Eddie has his book, The Talisman - open to page 243. Eddie’s had this book open to page 243 every morning this week. Eddie’s not progressing in the story. He’s not getting lost in the worlds that King and Straub have described in those pages that are already yellowing from exposure to tobacco smoke. He’s waiting behind the pages. He’s anticipating. He’s holding his prop, his reason for being here. The book is, of course, a ruse - and you are the intended target.

This Monday morning, you’re dressed in your usual jogging outfit for these chilly late spring mornings. OSU sweatshirt and matching gray sweatpants. Eddie silently prays to Mother Nature for the true warmth of summer. He wants the heat of the sun to coax you out of those warm clothes and into a pair of jogging shorts. A tank top that shows the lines of a sports bra. Maybe even just a sports bra on really hot days.

Eddie is already sporting an erection just thinking about the possibilities, which makes getting up and walking over to greet you at the foot of your front steps a bad idea. He’s wearing his work coveralls with a white tank top and shorts underneath. It gets hot in the garage, even when it’s not full mid-summer heat. He knows for a fact that his unfortunate boner will be on full display against the poly/cotton blend fabric.

You were hoping to run into Eddie this morning. Such a nice young man, and so helpful to you since the first day you arrived in Hawkins. Your arm was still in the sling at the time, and he made a fuss about making sure you didn’t lift anything heavier than your purse. He spent the better part of the day carrying boxes into your new home with his sweet smile spread across his full lips. A handsome guy, it was no surprise when a pretty girl pulled up that evening and headed to his trailer. You don’t know what happened to her, but after a couple of weeks in the park, she stopped coming by. A shame, Eddie deserves a good woman. You tell him all the time, if you were 20 years younger, you’d snatch him up.

You’ve got a few things you’d like him to do around your trailer when he has the time. Rick, your current boyfriend, isn’t the type to do manual labor. He’s also a good man, a respectable lawyer at that. He’s kind. It’s ok that he can’t put in a garbage disposal. It’s ok that he doesn’t know how to fix your leaky sink. He’s offered to pay a plumber, but Eddie seems to genuinely care about you. You like that, it feels right to be in a community like this after living in hell for so long. It makes you feel safe knowing that the Munsons are right next door, keeping an eye on things.

“Good morning, Eddie!” You have a niggling feeling that Eddie had been looking in the direction of your trailer just before you looked up to see if he was in his usual spot. He always has the brightest smile for you, even in the early hours of the day. Today is no exception. What a nice surprise to find out the sweet young man next door is also an early bird, up with the sun every day. It’s not what you would have expected from a leather wearing, motorcycle wearing, tattooed metalhead. You were happy to put aside your preconceived notions for him.

“Howdy, neighbor!” As usual, he’s got a Camel lit and perched between his ringed fingers. Funny that he wears them to the garage every day knowing that he’ll have to take them off before he starts work, but he has them prettily adorned on his fingers every time you see him.

“I’m so so glad I caught you,” Eddie preened a little at your smile and kind words. He loves it when you stop for a chat. It’s the reason he gets up at these ungodly hours, he knows it’s a chance to see you. To talk to you. To catch a whiff of your scent. “I’m wondering if I could have you do some handyman work around my place again. I’m happy to pay for it –“

“We’ve talked about this before,” Eddie’s hand is up in the air as soon as you utter the word “pay”, stopping your train of thought before it can really start to pick up steam.

“Well,” you let out a deep sigh to show your faux annoyance, “there’s a pie and roast beef dinner with your name on it, at least. You’ve got my key. I’ll leave a note with what needs to be done along with some cash for any parts you might need. Thank you, I should probably know how to do most of this stuff myself, but I’m useless.”

“Pretty ladies don’t need to know how to snake a drain, we’ve been over this. If Rick doesn’t have the time, your good friend Eddie does. What are neighbors for?” His smile, as always, reassures you. He really doesn’t mind helping the middle-aged lady next door with silly little tasks. And he always leaves your place immaculate, cleaner than when he came to do the work.

“God, what would I do without you? You’re such a sweet boy, Eddie.” Eddie’s erection presses hard against his thigh at your praise, and aches painfully when you give his forearm a little squeeze. “If I were about 20 years younger…” the sentiment hangs in the air as you turn and begin your trail jog, leaving Eddie sitting alone with only his uncomfortable boner to keep him company.

You say it every time he’s sweet to you. If I were about 20 years younger, and Eddie wants nothing more than to tell you that he doesn’t want that. He wants you now. But that’s not going to happen with your clean cut, age-appropriate boyfriend in the picture. A boyfriend that takes you to nice dinners once a week. A boyfriend that drives an expensive car. A boyfriend that will probably pull you out of your post-divorce poverty and put you up in his cute suburban home with a white picket fence.

Eddie watched you return from your jog from the front window of his trailer. It was already getting too warm, and you had taken off your sweatshirt, exposing a wide armed talk top with a sports bra underneath. Sweat was trickling down your neck. He couldn’t see it from this distance, but he knew there would be beads of it kissing your soft skin. He thought about what it would be like for his tongue to catch that saltiness. Let his tongue slide across your collarbone. He could almost taste you, from the imagining alone. Smell you.

Eddie wonders if you do it on purpose. He wonders if you bend down with your ample behind pointed in the direction of his front window hoping he’ll see it. He likes to imagine that you do. He likes to imagine that you know what you do to him, that the game is something you’re playing together. He thinks about putting his face in the cradle of your neck while he pulls down those gray sweatpants. He thinks about dropping down to spread your ass for him. He thinks about letting his tongue taste you while you’re still glistening with sweat. It would be so good. Yes. He thinks about this while he watches you. He thinks about this while he tugs at his aching cock. He fists at himself furiously while you arch your back and let the sun shine down on your face. He’s been hard since you came out of your trailer this morning, and he’s been patiently waiting for your return to relieve himself. He has a pair of your panties under his nose, a pair you were sure your dryer ate at some point. Your scent is faint, but still present. It’s not until after you’ve climbed the steps to your trailer that he wraps those cotton panties around his length and releases himself with a groan.

Eddie tucks himself away and immediately checks his coveralls for any possible stray cum stains. Regret and disgust begin to creep into his mind before he can fully push them back, but he knows it doesn’t matter. He’ll still be a few minutes late for work because he needs to know which outfit you’ve decided to wear today. Will it be the dockers with the wide black belt paired with one of your short-sleeved sweaters? Or maybe the dress you bought last week that you’re worried about being a little too casual for the office?

Eddie doesn’t know this stuff about you because you and he have girl chats over cups of coffee in the afternoon. He knows this stuff about you because he’s observant. He listens. Your trailers are close together, after all, and when the windows are open, he can sometimes pick up bits of conversations. Some of them are between you and Ricky, some of them are one sided phone conversations with your friends. It’s not creepy. He can’t help it. He’s making sure. He’s keeping an eye out. You deserve to be safe and happy, and he’s going to do his goddamned best to make sure that happens. He would never pry.

The first time he saw you, your pain cried out to him. Your broken arm was still healing, and there were still faint yellowing bruises scattered across your pretty face. Eddie knew exactly what happened before he ever had the evidence. It took a few weeks, but he put the pieces together, and found out about him, the ex. He found out where he worked. An insurance agent with his own office. Well – he had an office in downtown Dayton, Ohio. Stand-up guy, except for the part where he beats his wife.

Eddie had only meant to scare him a little. He threw the pipe bomb into the dumpster and drove away. He didn’t check to make sure there was nothing flammable inside, because there are rules about that kind of thing. It’s not really his fault what happened, plus no one was in the building anyway. He expected to cause a little confusing mess, but the entire place ended as kindling. Eddie still thinks the guy got off easy.

Of course, he recognizes now that it was too far. How would he be able to make sure you’re doing ok if he’s stuck behind bars? What he wanted to do was strangle the ex with his bare hands and watch the light of life blow out of his eyes. But it’s better to stay where he is, to keep an eye out. Plus, Rick is a really good guy. So far.

Eddie,

Thank you, a million times over. You’re such a sweetheart for doing this for me. I made a pie last night, have a slice (or two) if you want and there’s beer in the fridge. I’ll be back around 4, and I’m making your favorite for your dinner payment.

xoxoxo,

your favorite neighbor

The note hangs on the metal door of your trailer, you’d left early. You’re working a double at the diner, and it’s Eddie’s day off. Convenient for him. He can work uninterrupted. He can have the place to himself. His cock is hard just thinking about being in your space with your things. He hopes there’s some laundry left in the hamper just inside your bedroom door. He hopes you went jogging this morning, that maybe your sweatband would be sitting on your vanity.

Your living room is tidy, it’s always tidy. A People magazine, a TV Guide, an ashtray, and a lilac scented candle sit on the coffee table at the center of the room when he enters. You don’t smoke, but Ricky does, and she never minds if you do when you’re in her place. You even asked Eddie the other night if he’d want to share a joint with her sometime when you caught a whiff of the weed smoke coming from his porch. He brought some weed today just in case you were serious.

Eddie makes his way to the kitchen where his first, and easiest, task of the day is located. It’s all plumbing problems, and he told you it would take all day. But, no, It’ll actually be a couple of hours. Tops. Plenty of time for other things. The reality is Eddie could come into your place any time, but he’d never do it uninvited. That would be intrusive. He respects your privacy and would never want to cross a line.

Eddie tosses his jacket on your empty recliner and gets to work sorting through his tools. His first stop is the kitchen where he promised he’d put in a new garbage disposal. The kitchen is tidy, just like every other part of your trailer. It’s your place, all yours, and you treasure it. Eddie notices a coffee mug with a red lipstick kiss on the rim and an empty bowl with a spoon sitting next to the sink. Breakfast dishes, no doubt.

There’s a bit of Raisin Bran residue in the spoon sitting in the white porcelain bowl. Without a thought in his head, he takes the spoon and shoves it into his mouth. Eddie runs his tongue against the cool metal, lapping up the last of the milk and cereal. His eyes are closed in concentration, reaching for any lingering taste of you left within the dirty utensil. It’s a fight against his brain when lays the spoon back to rest in its former position and turns his attention to the coffee mug. A kiss left just for him, he lets his tongue run across the ghost of your lips, tasting your lipstick. He’s already hard just being here with the hints of you that were left behind this morning.

No more, he promises himself, not until you’re done. The next few hours are spent with wrenches, screwdrivers, and caulk. Garbage disposal – done and functioning. You’ll be able to grind chicken bones with that baby. Eddie puts in a new faucet in the bathroom and notices that the showerhead is still dripping. He noticed it the last time he was in your place. He came prepared. He bought a massaging, detachable head and puts it in for you as a surprise. You deserve it. The last thing on the official list is replacing the parts inside of your toilet tank. It just needs a new flapper valve, but Eddie’s doing the whole work. Easy fix. He could show you, but then you wouldn’t need him next time. He could show Rick, but Rick’s not interested in manual labor. Rick can afford to pay a plumber to come and do the work that would take a total of 20 minutes to complete with a basic knowledge of how a toilet tank functions. That’s below Rick.

Taking care of you would never be below Eddie. He would do anything to make sure you have everything you need to be happy. He bought that shower head for you because Robin had mentioned how much she loved hers. When Steve told him why she loved hers, Eddie knew he had to get you one. He ran his fingers against the nozzle head after the installation was finished. He stroked it, imagining you standing under it, the water running down your skin.

Eddie’s next movements are without thought behind them. The need guides him. He undresses completely, leaving a pile of clothes sitting on the toilet seat. He steps into the shower, your shower, and turns the water to warm. His hair is pulled back into a bun at the nape of his neck, and he decides to let it loose. He has time. You won’t be back for hours, his hair will be dry by then. Every bottle in this shower smells of you. So, he lathers. He lets the suds of your honey body wash clean off the sweat and dirt of the day. The pink bottles of Salon Selectives are what he uses to massage his scalp. He works the shampoo into his skin, he wants the scent to last for at least a couple of days. He wants to think of you when catches the scent from his own head.

Eddie luxuriates under the warm trickle of water. He lets himself think of you. He reaches into his mind to remember the way your touch feels against his skin when you squeeze his arm. He lets the lingering scent of your lost panties re-enter his nasal cavity. He thinks about the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you give him one of your big smiles. He thinks about all of this, letting his cock grow. He tugs at himself, just a little bit, to really let himself start to feel something.

He has a ferocious erection when he steps out of the shower and reaches for your silky bathrobe. It hangs on a plastic hook on the inside of your bathroom door. It’s white, and he lets himself think about how you look wearing it as he slips it over his damp skin. It’s so soft, as soft as you are. He’s being directed by his cock now, his brain is more than empty. It does not exist. His chores are done, and he hours before you’ll be home.

Your room. The untidiest room in the house, but still neat. He sets his pile of clothes on your dresser. That’s where he spots your tube of lipstick and your perfume bottle. Kismet. He takes the tube of Avon Apricot Freeze and delicately applies it to his lips. It’s the shade you’re wearing today, he recognizes it from your coffee mug. Eddie is careful when he handles the triangle shaped bottle of Claibourne perfume. He brings it to his nose and inhales deeply. It’s you, yes, but it’s lacking something. He spritzes it against his neck where he knows he’ll be able to smell it while he enjoys himself.

His next stop is the hamper that sits beside your dresser. He knows what he’ll find there, he watched you on your run this morning. The underwear sits atop a week’s worth of dirty laundry. A quick sniff tells him that, yes, you wore them while the sweat clung to your body. His erection twitches against the silky robe while he takes a deep breath. His eyes roll back in his head, and he knows it’s time to let himself feel the full height of his pleasure.

What the perfume is lacking can be found on your pillowcase. Your fuller scent lingers there. Your worn underwear sits against his tongue and lips while he lays his chest down on your soft mattress, a pillow folded under his hips to create a fold that will hold his cock. Your scent, your taste, the softness of your robe – he is lost in you. With his eyes closed, he can almost imagine you’re here with him. He can almost imagine the way your heat would feel wrapped around his cock.

It's so good. So perfect in your place. He’s teased himself for hours thinking about this moment, and his body moves with furious intent in your bed. He’s listening to you say his name inside his mind, over and over while his cock rubs against the pillow under him. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Yes, it’s what you would say if he had you here. If he plunged himself deeper and deeper inside of you. If he wrapped his mouth around your nipple instead of around this piece of fabric. Eddie, Eddie, please. I want you so much. You’re such a good boy.

Eddie’s orgasm hits him like a truck. His hips leap with no rhythm. They are searching while his cum is expelled from him with more force than he’s ever experienced before. More pleasure than he ever felt with Sandra, the girl that left him when she said he was spending too much time worrying about the old lady next door. His bucking hips slow after what feels like an eternity of ecstasy. A never ending stream of seed, while the sweat on his back is making the silk fabric of the robe stick to his skin. He allows himself a moment. A beat to lay in his post orgasm haze. Bliss unrivaled by any other feeling he’s ever had in his entire existence. Laying there with the ghost scent of you in your bed. In your home.

When you pull into the trailer park, it’s half past 4. You’re ready for a shower. It’s getting sticky out, and your hot flashes have started increasing. 45 years old, and your body has decided to become a mystery to you. You vaguely remember that Eddie might still be at your place, and resign yourself to the idea that the shower might have to wait until after you feed him. It’s worth it, though. He deserves at least a home cooked meal and the six pack you have in the trunk of your car.

You open the door to your place to find it in exactly the same condition you left it in. It needs dusting, but it’ll have to wait. As you walk through the kitchen, you notice the breakfast dishes sitting in the drying rack and smile. He really is an angel. There’s a note on the counter.

Howdy neighbor,

I have to run out to do a few errands. I’ll be back around 6. I hope you enjoy the surprise I left for you in the bathroom.

Eddie

Everything is clean. It’s like no one was ever here. You look around and spot it, a new shower head. He didn’t just fix the constant dripping, he replaced the whole thing. Angel. It feels incredible when you step into it. The massage feature is a gift you hadn’t expected. The warm water washes away the day from your body, and you silently praise Eddie’s handiwork while you let the honey scented body wash foam between your fingers.

Your bathrobe isn’t in its place, which is odd, but you must have left it in your room. You grab a towel from the shelf above the toilet and wrap it around your body. Sweatpants and a sweater are a comfort to your tired muscles. You finally register the sound that’s been in the background since you got home. Your dryer is running. He even did a load of laundry for you. You’re going to have to make him his own pie this weekend.

It was so warm and soft, a quick and tender embrace. It was friendly, innocent. Eddie relished it. He let himself focus on the feeling of your arms around his waist, the way your hair brushed against his face, the clean scent of soap from your post work shower. He reached and searched in those couple of seconds, determined to take as much from the moment as possible. To let it fuel his need.

He took that moment, that embrace, with him as he left your trailer along with the Dutch apple pie you made for him. It was still warm from the oven as you placed it in his hands. Those weren’t the only things Eddie took with him. The metal was burning a hole in his pocket while you hugged him goodnight. He fought against his body while his arousal kicked up at your touch, and he promised himself - soon.

It’s beautiful. Eddie almost feels bad about cutting into it. The apple syrup bubbled up around the brown sugar crumble crust during baking and there are pieces of crystallized sugar sprinkled about the top. He’s thinking about you cutting the apples, he’s thinking about your fingers working the pie crust. Sprinkling sugar and cinnamon.

Eddie’s hard. It’s not only the memory of your warmth against him, or the cinnamon and sugar scent invading his nostrils, but also the soft silk panties he’s wearing. Like the other things he’s taken, he’ll return them back of course, but how could he resist when they were out in the open like that? Freshly worn and resting atop today’s work clothes inside your bathroom. He had only meant to wash his hands before dinner, but instead he took off his boxers and replaced them with your pretty underwear. Underwear that had so recently held your heat against them. He needed it.

Eddie knows what he plans to do despite the fact that he is not consciously acknowledging it. It’s as if he loses control of his bodily movements at times like these. The empty trailer, Wayne’s gone for the week on a fishing trip, is an open invitation for the experience he has mapped out in his mind. He sets the scene, taking his time. His body is still tired from earlier, but the temptation of the still warm apple pie is impossible to resist.

Eddie pulls a knife out of the drawer, cool metal against the warm skin of his fingers, and he cuts a slice of the crumbling dessert. He leaves it in the pan and immediately walks to his bedroom. His window is still open, the curtains blow in the breeze of the summer evening. It smells like rain will come before too long. The lights are always low in his room, but he opts for turning them off completely before he undresses. Just in case.

Your bedroom window is directly across from his own, and when the evenings are cool it’s possible to hear things. Soft music sometimes wafts through Eddie’s open window. He’s hoping to hear some of the sweet noises he occasionally hears on nights like these. Not the sounds of love making when Rick visits, but the sounds of quiet pleasure when it’s just your own car parked in front of your home. Eddie likes to think that maybe sometimes you can hear him, and hopes that it helps you along when your fingers are deep inside yourself. Maybe you even think of his ringed fingers during those times.

A man can dream.

Eddie reaches into the back pocket of his jeans before he lays them on the chair in the corner of his room where the rest of his clothes are resting. His nipples are already peaked with excitement. The small pieces of gold jewelry sit in the palm of his hand while a flash of disgust threatens to ruin his plans. He finds the strength to push it back. Let it sit way back in his mind until after. After he can let those feelings of shame come out to play, but not until after he’s had his fun.

Eddie’s cock is pressed against the silk fabric of your underwear, and the cool air of the room combined with the arousal the head is already leaking, it feels like a gentle kiss. There’s a twitch, an answer to that thought, and Eddie turns his focus back to the clip on earrings he smuggled out of your trailer. They are not the kind designed to gently cling to the lobes of your ears. No. These are the kind that are designed to pinch, an aggressive assurance that they won’t be lost at some point during the day. When Eddie attaches the first one to his left nipple, it’s an immediate and intense pain that only kicks up his arousal. His cock jumps with each zing of pain and pleasure, and he has a distant concern that he’ll come just from the feeling alone. With deep breaths, he manages to calm himself before doing it all over again with the right nipple.

Eddie’s back is sweating, and his cock feels weighed down with the cum he’s holding back. It won’t take much coaxing for him to erupt. He can feel an orgasm creeping behind his eyes, in his throat, deep in his guts. From an outsider’s perspective, he would look absurd. Even more so as he rests his ass, still covered by soft panties, on the large terry cloth towel he has laid down on his sheets in preparation. It’s going to be messy, and he’s happy that he has the forethought to prepare. He’ll be very tired when it’s over.

Eddie lays his head on his pillow, pulling his curls over so that he can lay on his side. His nose can smell the shampoo he used earlier. Your shampoo. It’s so lovely, and it helps Eddie imagine that it’s your hair that his nose is pressed into. His nipples are still shooting zings of painful pleasure as Eddie uses one hand to scoop out the piece of sliced pie from the tin, and the other to release his aching cock from the prison of your silky panties. The first bite of pie is almost a religious experience for him. The apples are still slightly crispy, but the juices have mixed in with the sugar and streusel topping.

Eddie had not planned what he did next, it was a natural instinct. His need took over his movements again. Instead of wrapping his hand around his aching cock, he slid his palm under the pie tin and pressed the pastry against himself. The tip of his cock is immediately surrounded by the warm, sticky filling. It feels incredible, and he’s shocked to realize it feels surprisingly like a mouth.

All at once, he’s groaning around the pie at his mouth while his cock pushes itself through the mess of apples, sugar, and streusel. His body is crying out, the pleasure soaring through him. His taste buds are dancing, his nipples are screaming, his hips are thrusting his cock into that open mouth. Brown sugar coats his thatch of pubic hair, raining down from his gluttonous self pleasure. In no time, he spills himself into the pie dish, his cum and the pie filling creating a combination of flavors that would make Betty Crocker roll over in her grave. The piece of unfinished pie has somehow ended up mashed in Eddie's wild curls. He’s sticky from the sweat and sugary confection.

After the bliss wanes, Eddie first removes the earrings, allowing his nipples to rest. The vibrating pleasure immediately ceases, and he can breathe normally. The come down is a crash as he envisions this moment captured in a still image.

Eddie Munson, in his bed, ass being hugged by a pair of silk underwear, covered in streusel and apple pie filling. It’s with a sigh that almost sounds like a groan that Eddie scoops out a handful from the pie tin and brings it to his mouth. He licks the mess from between his fingers, the sweetest pie he’s ever tasted, and the faintest hint of himself mixed within.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #chesty fic #perv!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader

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galaxywarp · 10 months

Text

(please like if you read. and it would mean a lot to me if you read.)

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My body and my mind have been sick lately

So my sleep schedule has been fucked.

3am is a normal time to wake.

And just before the sun rises,

I find a couple of dollars

And I put some gas in my tank and I buy a cheap iced coffee,

And I drive and I watch the sun come up

While I listen to music that makes my friends sad.

And as I’m standing at the pump and overdrawing my bank account to put a few dollars of gas in my car,

And my speakers are playing a song about wanting to kill my father with a baseball bat,

I see a man around my age walking towards the gas station,

From out of the shadows of the distant sidewalk

Into the harsh light.

And he’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants and he’s walking alone through the dark to a gas station at 5 in the morning to buy a lighter

And some part of me registers that this is a man who others may feel nervous about him approaching them through the darkness.

But in him I see myself.

And I miss being a meth addict.

And I miss his world. And I miss dragging myself, dirty and beaten, to the nearest gas station at 5 in the morning with loose change in my pocket to buy myself a lighter so that I can smoke my meth pipe.

And I get back in my car that’s still playing a song about wanting to kill my father with a baseball bat.

And I try to think about what it is I’m missing.

And I think of rooms of faces,

Painful, terrible, beautiful faces,

Where every person there understands exactly what it’s like to be at a gas station at 5 in the morning listening to a song about wanting to kill your father with a baseball bat.

And you don’t have to think about it.

You don’t have to talk about it.

They just hand you a pipe

And a lighter

And the pain goes away.

And I drive to pick up my iced coffee

And I don’t feel as bad about the iced coffee as I thought I would.

It’s only two dollars, after all.

And it’s easy to find two dollars, even when you have nothing else.

You can find two dollars in a lot of places.

In your couch.

In old jacket pockets.

In the kindness of a stranger.

And I’ve been hoarding loose change for years.

I keep it in my grandpa’s old ammunition box from the war.

The box where I keep one of the shells from the guns they fired at his and grandma’s funeral.

The box where I keep a dirty rusty nail that someone gave me in rehab.

Someone who didn’t make it, but I did.

The box where I keep the smooth pretty blue stone that the other patients passed around on my last day, that they held close to their hearts as they wished me strength on my journey. As they told me that I was strong and that I was going to make it.

And it’s the box where I keep my loose change

For iced coffee

And meth lighters.

It’s easy to find two dollars.

Your mom will give you two dollars

If you tell her it’s for iced coffee

And not meth lighters.

Your mom will give you two dollars

If you promise it’s not to kill yourself.

And in the drive thru the girl asks me to please wait a moment, she has to refill the coffee.

And I tell her it’s okay, really, no rush.

And she thanks me

And tells me she appreciates me.

And I think about all the jobs I’ve had

Where I had to ask a customer to please wait a moment

So I could do something important

Like refill the coffee

Or use heroin in the bathroom.

And when she hands me my iced coffee I say thank you

And I tell her “I appreciate you too”.

And I see her face fall, briefly,

As she is stunned by my words

Taken aback by this brief, fleeting moment of genuine kindness and connection.

And just as quickly she smiles at me

Truly smiles

And says thank you.

And I hurry and drive away, so she can deal with the rest of the cars in line

Many of which are running late for work

And who will blame her for it.

And I take my drive.

And I watch the sun rise.

And I listen to music that makes my friends sad.

And when I come home

I wash down my antidepressants with what’s left of my iced coffee

And I think about how I don’t miss being a meth addict.

I am a meth addict

Without his pipe.

#recovery tag #addiction #drug addiction #recovery #poetry

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lualuabestningdungie · 6 months

Text

Lovesick -Choi Yeonjun

Falling in love was a new feeling for you, and it didn’t really disliked you. Seeing his smile every day wondering why you feel this way every time he laughed at something you say, it was confusing, but you were falling. Choi Yeonjun, what have you done to me?

Pairings: afab!reader x nonidol!yeonjun

Warnings: toxic relationship, mentions of kissing, slow burn, might contain grammar mistakes. a holiday cliché (oops), lots of fluff.

Wc: 11.7 k

Masterlist

Lovesick by Laufey

The feeling of warmth embracing you as you woke up. Arms hugging you tightly, wrapped around your waist. The soft breathing of someone by your side. A weight in your chest where he slept so peacefully.

If months ago you would’ve told yourself that you were in love, you wouldn’t have believed it.

The bell of the door rang announcing that someone entered the café. You turned your head and greeted the two customers with a smile once the couple reached the counter.

“Welcome! What can I get for you?” You saw that the girl rolled her eyes and left her partner on the counter as she made her way to sit on one of the tables, he looked at you apologetically.

“Uh I’ll have a coffee and… what’s the November special?” He asked.

“Oh it’s apple cinnamon tea.” You smiled. It was your idea to add that to the menu.

“Sounds nice, I’ll have that.” You nodded and typed on the computer.

“At what name should I register the order?” You asked as you took the cup and a marker.

“Yeonjun.” He said giving you a small smile.

You wrote his name in the cup. “Alright Yeonjun, I’ll call you when your order’s ready.” You offered a small smile and turned to start preparing the drinks.

“Jiseok mind helping me? Your shift hasn’t ended.” Jiseok rolled his eyes.

“I’m too tired.” Jiseok placed his head on your shoulder.

“You haven’t done a single thing today.” You handed him a cup. “So start doing something or you won’t even get a tip.” He sighed.

Once you finished the drinks you called Yeonjun. He walked towards the counter, just when he was about to reach the drinks he knocked over the salt that was on top of the counter.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry.”

You were about to pick it up but your hands touched when attempting to pick the salt up. You looked at him embarrassed, and handed him his drinks with a small ‘thank you’.

You turned around and saw Jiseok side eyeing you. You gave him a confused look.

“What?” He snickered and you hit his arm.

“That was so embarrassing.” You rolled your eyes.

You were about to reply when you heard someone talking very loud. Both of you turned around and saw the girl Yeonjun was with, making a scene.

“What was that? Yeonjun I swear you do this all the time!” She exclaimed as she looked at him with anger.

“What do you mean? I didn’t do anything-“ Yeonjun stopped mid sentence when this girl threw the cup of hot tea all over his shirt.

Jiseok and you looked at the scene with wide eyes. The girl left shutting the door behind her.

Yeonjun stayed there sitting looking down, you could tell he was embarrassed about the whole situation, as he placed his head on his hands.

Jiseok elbowed you on the arm, and gestured for you to go.

“I’m going if you’re going.” You whispered, he rolled his eyes and walked with you towards Yeonjun.

“Hey man, everything alright?” Yeonjun turned to look at the both of you with shame.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I’ll help you clean if you want.” He stood up and you stopped him.

“No, no, it’s okay. We’ll clean it, don’t worry. I’ll get napkins for you.” You walked back to the counter and grabbed some napkins for him.

You handed him the napkins and Jiseok brought his sweatshirt and gave it to Yeonjun.

“Oh no, it’s okay, don’t worry.” Yeonjun refused the offer of the sweatshirt.

“It’s cold outside, you should take it. Don’t worry about it, I have another one.” Jiseok shrugged handing it to Yeonjun.

“I hope this wasn’t a problem for you. This was very embarrassing. I’m sorry.” You could tell he was ashamed of the situation, and you couldn't help but to feel bad for him.

“It’s okay, you’re not the one that should be embarrassed.” You grabbed the mop and started cleaning some of the tea that spilled.

“Yeah, was that your girlfriend?” Jiseok asked and sat down.

“Yes, she is my girlfriend. But it’s like the seventh time we break up in the last two months.” Yeonjun sighed.

“Is she always like this?” You said a bit hesitant, you didn’t want to sound intrusive.

“Most of the time, yeah. I guess I’m an idiot for not noticing the type of person she is.” Yeonjun replied as he attempted to clean himself with the napkins.

Jiseok and you looked at each other feeling sorry for him. He really looked like a kind person.

And that was the first time you met Yeonjun.

A few days later, you walked towards the bus stop. Your work wasn’t exactly close to your apartment, so you had to take the bus there.

Struggling to wrap your scarf around your neck with one hand, bag and keys in the other one, you accidentally elbowed someone that was walking next to you.

You turned to say sorry but you were surprised to see that the person you hit, was Yeonjun.

“I’m very sorry, I didn’t see you.” Embarrassment covered your face, as a red blush appeared on your cheeks.

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” He gave you a soft smile. “Are you going to work?” You nodded.

“Yeah, I’m actually a bit late now.”

“Oh, well I guess we’re both late then.” He shrugged and you gave him a confused look.

“We? As in you and me?” You asked.

“Ah yeah, forgot to mention. I got a job in the café.” He said and you looked at him surprised.

“You did? That’s nice.” You actually were happy that Yeonjun was going to start working with Jiseok and you. Since the day of the incident with his girlfriend, you couldn’t help but to think about him. “May I ask why? Oh wait, I don’t mean to be nosy, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You looked away a little embarrassed.

He chuckled at this. “It’s okay. I got fired from my last job, I uh… worked in the company of my ex girlfriend’s dad. So when I broke up with her, she got me fired.” He sighed.

“Oh god, I’m sorry to hear that.” You looked at him a little worried.

“It’s alright, I wanted to leave that job anyway. I was getting tired of being in an office all day. And working in the café seems interesting, I just want to feel productive.” He shrugged.

“Well, I’m glad you applied, we do need more staff. Jiseok and I are the only ones working there. Although it gets a little boring sometimes, we don’t have that many customers.” You chuckled.

It was true, you normally didn’t have that many customers, but now that the cold season started, the number of customers usually increases. Or at least you hope it does.

“It’s alright, I’m sure we’ll do fine.”

The bus arrived and you both sat next to each other and talked on your way to the café. When you arrived, Jiseok was cleaning the counters and getting the coffee machines ready.

You opened the door and the bell rang.

“Finally, I thought you weren’t coming, I was about to use the speakers to play my-“ He stopped when he turned to see you. He clearly wasn’t expecting to see Yeonjun.

You made an awkward eye contact with him for a few seconds.

“Oh, welcome back, are going to order something?” Jiseok asked looking at Yeonjun.

“Actually I’m here to work.” He smiled and Jiseok widened his eye surprised.

“Is that why there was another apron in the staff room?” You nodded.

“Come on Yeonjun, we’ll show you how everything works.”

After a while, you and Jiseok explained to Yeonjun everything he needed to know about the place, how the coffe machines work, how to prepare the drinks, clean the counters, etc.

Your shifts came to an end, and it was time to close the store. Yeonjun seemed awfully quiet the last hour of his shift.

“Hey Yeonjun, are you okay?” Jiseok asked while he mopped the floor. Yeonjun was cleaning the counters with a very serious expression. He hadn’t said a single word in the last 40 minutes.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m okay.” His half smile wasn’t convincing to either of you. But Jiseok didn’t want to push it to far and just nodded.

When it was time to close the shop, Yeonjun finally spoke, once you were already outside with your coats and scarves.

“Hey guys, do you know any place around here that I could stay just tonight?” He said not meeting your eyes. Jiseok and you looked at each other confused.

“Well, I don’t think you can find much places here. They’re all very expensive around this area.” You said putting your hand in your coat’s pockets. Yeonjun stayed quiet for a moment as if he was thinking too much about something.

“You live far from here?” Jiseok asked.

“Uh yeah, I live far from the city. I’m looking for apartments around here.” Yeonjun responded.

“Well you can stay in our apartment tonight, it’s getting late and buses take too long here.” Jiseok suggested this to him and his eyes sparkled.

When he agreed, the three of you went to the bus station. Your apartment wasn’t close, but it definitely was closer than Yeonjun’s place. The three of you arrived to the apartment.

Yeonjun was feeling slightly nervous, Jiseok and you have been really nice to him, and he certainly didn’t want to bother you.

“Here we are.” Jiseok opened the door and stepped aside. As you entered, you notice Yeonjun looked around, he seemed a little uncomfortable.

“Your apartment is very big. It’s really pretty.” Yeonjun said looking at you two.

“Oh, it’s my dad’s apartment. He basically pays for this apartment.” Jiseok explained.

“Oh, it’s your dad’s? Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay here? I don’t want to intrude.” Yeonjun spoke more nervously.

“Nah, it’s fine. My dad never comes around. He doesn’t even know yn lives here.” Jiseok chuckled and you shrugged. “He lives in another city far away. So I don’t see him that often, just in uh… Christmas?” He explained.

“Oh alright.” He said shyly taking off his coat too.

“I have to get going, I’ll see you guys later.” He took what a guitar case that was leaning next to the door and left.

“He’s in a band, they usually practice at night, when they’re all done with their works and stuff.” You said sitting down in the couch.

“That’s so cool. I’ve always wanted to be in a band.” Yeonjun followed your steps and at next to you. It seemed more relaxed than he was a few minutes ago.

“Really? That’s nice. I’ve never thought of it. But it’s nice when Jiseok talks about his band.” You said smiling. “So, how was your first day at work? Did you like it?” You asked trying to make him feel more comfortable.

“Yeah, it was nice. I enjoyed working with you. It’s very relaxing to work in a quiet place, you know? I was used to be in an office where people always went in and out everyday.” He sighed.

“May I ask how did you meet your ex girlfriend?” You didn’t wanted to be nosy, but you really wanted to know more about him.

"I met Harin in high school.” He paused and took a deep breath. “She wasn’t always like that, I honestly don’t know what happened. When we graduated we moved together, her dad gave me a great job at his company, and we were happy. My future was assured there.” You felt bad for him, how everything perished for him after that breakup. “But suddenly she started getting possessive over me, and got jealous of my friends. That’s when everything went down.”

Yeonjun had a perfect life, good job, a nice house, a good relationship, close friends. But he lost all of that.

“I’m very sorry that happened, Yeonjun.” He half smiled.

“It’s in the past now, I wasn’t happy there so I don’t really care anymore.” He reassured you. “But that’s enough about me. Tell me more about you.”

Yeonjun was a curious person, since the first time he met you, he felt intrigued, he wanted to know you better.

“Uh well, I used to live in a small town. You know, those towns where you're walking on the street and see cows. I lived with my grandma, she took care of me my whole life. My parents were always working so I could get a better education. So all I could do was study, since there weren’t a lot of things I could do there.” You explained. You don’t always talk about yourself, but opening up to someone who really wanted to know you was nice.

“And how did you end up here?” He asked crossing his leg getting into a more comfortable position.

“I got a scholarship in a high school, so I moved here. There’s where I met Jiseok. He was always skipping classes and never did his homework. He never really cared about school. So I tutored him, that’s how we started hanging out.”

Yeonjun nodded, your life seemed very interesting to him. How you left your hometown to come to study to a city. Something about you made him drawn to you, he definitely wanted to know you better.

And that’s how a month went by, working in the café, hanging out with Yeonjun and Jiseok, watching Jiseok’s band perform, going back home and have late night talks with Yeonjun.

Everything happened so nicely, all three of you became closer. It was as if you knew Yeonjun your whole life. You got to trust him in a small amount of time, and the same for him. He felt more comfortable living with both Jiseok and you, and working together, than he ever did in the past when he worked in an office.

Things at work also improved, you had more customers now. In reality there were only girls who were interested in Yeonjun and started going more frequently just to see him, but customers are customers, and at least they actually bought things, leading to more tips.

The bell rang announcing a new customer, as the door opened the fresh breeze of the December air entered the café. As the bell jingled, and all eyes turned to see a familiar face—Harin. Her gaze immediately locked onto Yeonjun. All three of you stayed silent for a moment, not knowing what to do.

Yeonjun tensed, his hands gripping on a coffee cup he was holding a bit too tightly. The atmosphere in the café shifted as your eyes met Jiseok's, both of you silently acknowledging the sudden change.

"Yeonjun," she called out, walking closer to the counter where Yeonjun was. He turned to face her, a sigh escaping his lips.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone sounded as if he was tired or annoyed.

She ignored his question and glanced around the café, her eyes narrowing as they landed on you and Jiseok. A smirk played on her lips, and it was evident that she was relishing the discomfort she was causing.

"Found yourself some new job, I see. Or is it something more?" Her eyes flickered between Yeonjun and you, a not-so-subtle insinuation hanging in the air.

A small flashback appeared on his mind when her eyes turned to look at you. The day when they came to the café for the first time, when she threw the hot tea at him. She started telling Yeonjun how he always flirted with everyone in front of her, and turned into an argument.

"I'm just here to enjoy a cup of coffee. Is that too much to ask?" she said with a false innocence, finally tearing her gaze away from you and Jiseok to focus solely on Yeonjun.

Yeonjun's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, you stepped forward. "If you're here for coffee, then feel free to order. But let's keep it civil, okay?" Your words were calm but deep down you actually felt nervous and a little intimidated by her presence. You didn´t want her to cause another scene like the one a month ago.

She huffed, clearly not expecting any resistance. "Fine, I'll have a latte."

As you prepared her latte, the tension lingered in the air. The café, that once had a sense of warmth, now felt cold and awkward. Yeonjun walked to the kitchen, not wanting to face Harin anymore.

Jiseok shot you a concerned look, silently communicating his readiness to step in if the situation escalated.

When you handed the latte to Yeonjun's ex, she took it with a mocking smile. "Thanks," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. You resisted the urge to react, maintaining your composure.

"Enjoy your coffee," you replied, your smile strained but polite.

She found an empty table, deliberately choosing one within sight of Yeonjun, and settled down with an air of triumph. The tension in the café only intensified, and you could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on the unfolding situation.

As Yeonjun emerged from the kitchen, he glanced at his ex-girlfriend, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. It was clear that he didn't want any confrontation, yet the unresolved emotions lingered beneath the surface.

Jiseok approached Yeonjun, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. "Don't let her get to you. We've got your back if she tries to do anything," he whispered. Yeonjun nodded appreciatively, offering a small but genuine smile.

Once she exited, Yeonjun let out a breath he seemed to have been holding since her arrival. "Thanks, guys. I appreciate you handling that with me."

"Anytime," Jiseok reassured him, exchanging a nod with you.

The atmosphere in the café gradually shifted back to its usual warmth. The regular customers, sensing the resolution of the tension, returned to their conversations and the familiar hum of the coffee grinder resumed its comforting rhythm.

After the café closed for the day, you, Jiseok, and Yeonjun returned home, the events of the encounter with Yeonjun's ex-girlfriend still fresh in your minds. The walk back was unusually quiet, each of you lost in your thoughts.

Upon reaching the apartment, Jiseok broke the silence. "Well, that was unexpected. I didn't think she'd show up here."

Yeonjun nodded, still processing the encounter. "Yeah, me neither. I thought I had left all that drama behind."

You opened the door, leading the way into the apartment. "Let´s just forget about it, alright? And hope she doesn´t come back."

It was late, so you decided to go to bed and rest. Yeonjun still felt uneasy, he wasn´t expecting that and it clearly made him uncomfortable to think that she might show up again.

Over breakfast next morning, as you, Yeonjun, and Jiseok discussed the day ahead, Yeonjun's thoughts betrayed him. "I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched," he admitted, a furrow forming on his brow.

Jiseok, mid-bite into his toast, looked up with a raised eyebrow. "Watched? What do you mean?"

Yeonjun sighed. "I mean, how did she even find out I work at the café? It's not like I've been broadcasting it."

You exchanged a knowing glance with Jiseok, not knowing really what to say. "Maybe it's just a coincidence," you suggested, attempting to ease the tension. "She could have seen you during one of your shifts or heard about it from someone else."

Yeonjun nodded, still uncertain. "Yeah, maybe. It just feels like she knew exactly where to find me."

"Well, no use stressing about it now. Let's just focus on the café today, and if anything else comes up, we'll help you. Plus we´re already late." Jiseok said standing up once he realized the time.

Throughout the day, Yeonjun couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, as if half-expecting his ex to reappear. The routine of taking orders, preparing drinks, and engaging with customers provided a distraction, but the unsettling thought lingered in the back of his mind.

Eventually he was forced to leave his thought aside and focus in helping you to put up some Christmas decorations around the café. You retrieved boxes of Christmas decorations from storage, and soon the café was filled with a calm sound of holiday tunes and the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the aroma of cinnamon and pine.

Soon, strings of twinkling lights adorned the counters, wreaths adorned the walls, and a small Christmas tree graced a corner, surrounded by carefully wrapped gifts.

As the last customer left, the three of you decided to stay a little later to put the finishing touches on the Christmas decorations. The café was now aglow with festive lights, ornaments, and the inviting aroma of holiday spices.

Jiseok rummaged through the box of decorations and pulled out a sprig of mistletoe. With a confused look, he held it up. "Didn´t know we had this. Should we hang it somewhere?"

You chuckled at his antics, not thinking much of it. "Sure, why not? It adds to the holiday charm."

Jiseok found the perfect spot near the entrance and secured the mistletoe with a small piece of ribbon. He stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "There we go, now we just need some victims to walk under it."

The three of you continued with the decorations, while you and Yeonjun decorated the Christmas tree near the entrance and Jiseok hung paper snowflakes on the counters.

After a while, as the last of the decorations were hung, Jiseok cleared his throat, drawing your attention. "Hey, what´s that hanging above your heads?."

You and Yeonjun turned toward the entrance and were met with the sight of the mistletoe hanging above. Jiseok wore an expectant expression, clearly delighted with the situation.

Yeonjun's eyes met yours. You had never seen him the way you did that night, his eyes sparkling with the christmas lights around, his black hair tickling his forehaed, his skin glowing with the dim light around you. You felt your stomach turn, a sensation you've never felt before.

When you realized you were staring a lot, a blush covered your cheeks making you look away. Yeonjun chuckled moving his hand up and ruffled your hair.

"Let's continue decorating." He lowered himself to whisper in your ear leaving you completely flustered. He simply walked away towards Jiseok and helped him with the snowflakes.

With the decorating complete, the three of you stepped back to admire your work. The mistletoe, now just another element of the festive display.

As you gathered to leave the café, the festive lights casting a warm glow on your faces, You approached Yeonjun, a soft smile on his lips. "Thanks for helping out tonight. It was fun."

You returned the smile, the flustered feeling subsiding. "Yeah, it was. We should do this again next year."

Jiseok placed an arm around your shoulder. "Maybe next time, we'll be more prepared for the mistletoe." Your face turned red, and you flicked his forehead.

That night, when you got home, Yeonjun found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The events of the evening played over and over in his mind like a loop, and he couldn't shake the profound effect it had on him.

As he lay there in the quiet darkness, Yeonjun couldn't help but think about you in a different light. Your laughter echoed in his ears, and the image of your blushing face beneath the mistletoe lingered in his mind. Thoughts raced through Yeonjun's mind as he pondered the subtle changes in his feelings. He recalled the way your eyes met his, the warmth of your presence, and the genuine connection he felt with you.

As you layed in bed, you turned to turn off the light of the lamp on your bedside table. Remebering the feeling of being close to Yeonjun earlier made your heart race in a way that you've never felt. All you could see in your head was him.

"What is happening to me?" You wondered, running a hand through your hair in frustration. You weren't accustomed to feeling this way, and the unfamiliar emotions left you both bewildered and intrigued.

Days later, Jiseok invited Yeonjun and you to a small bar where he would be performing with his band. The night was cold as you left the apartment with Yeonjun, Jiseok had to leave earlier to rehearse before the show.

You rubbed your hands together hoping to produce some heat.

"You forgot your gloves?" Yeonjun asked, stopping you to look at him.

"Yeah, I forgot them on my bed." You chuckled.

He took your hand suddenly, intertwining your fingers and putting both of your hands on the pocket of his coat. "Hope this helps." He gave you a soft smile and continued walking, forcing you to walk at his pace.

Your mind went blank with this, a blush covering your whole face. You tried to hold back a smile, while your mind was on a debate of your feelings.

As you walked together, his pace dictated by the linked hands, a quiet excitement and nervous energy lingered between you two. The city lights flickered in the distance, and the streets felt quieter than usual, creating a calm air of tranquility around the two of you.

Yeonjun glanced at you, his gaze holding a warmth that matched the shared space in his coat pocket. "You okay? Not too cold, I hope."

The genuine concern in his voice brought a soft smile to your face. "No, I'm good. Thanks to your hand-warmer solution."

He chuckled. "Glad I could be of service."

The bar where Jiseok's band was performing came into view, its neon sign casting a colorful glow on the sidewalk. As you approached, Yeonjun didn't release your hand.

Inside the place, the low hum of conversations mixed with the tuning of instruments. Jiseok spotted the two of you and waved, his eyes widening as he noticed your intertwined hands.

You looked down feeling your cheeks burn while Yeonjun waved back with his free hand. You find an empty table near the stage and sat together, Yeonjun subtly scooting closer to you.

The concert begun after a few minutes, the sound of the drums and bass filled the air. You looked at the band, smiling as you saw Jiseok playing his guitar, he always looked so happy on stage.

At some point of the night, Yeonjun leaned to your ear. "They're really good." The feeling of his warm breath hitting your aer had your head spinning. You saw his smirk from the corner of your eye.

"Yeah, they are," you replied, trying to hide the subtle nervousness in your voice.

After the concert, Jiseok joined the both of you and decided to get some drinks for the three of you.

As you settled into a cozy corner of the bar, the dim lighting casting a warm glow over the surroundings, the conversation flowed seamlessly.

Your conversation was interrupted by a familiar voice calling Yeonjun's name. You turned to see that Harin was there.

"Yeonjun, can we talk? Please." Her expression seemed serious, like she wanted to talk about something important. She didn't even acknowledge Jiseok and you.

Without looking at her, Yeonjun nodded and stood up from his chair, leading her outside the place.

Your eyes followed him as a short sigh escaped your lips. Jiseok looked at you and placed a hand above yours.

"He'll be fine, don't worry." He gave a light squeeze on your hand.

Your heart raced as you watch them talk outside the window, feeling nervous about the whole situation. You couldn't help but to think that she might want Yeonjun back, and it scared you even more that he would accept that.

Even if he had already made it clear several times in the past that he doesn't want anything to do with her anymore, he did had his future assured with her.

You saw how she started raising her voice, pointing at his chest with her index while her expression seemed angry. Yeonjun just looked down at her, his jaw tightened and and his arms crossed.

After what felt like an eternity, Yeonjun reentered the bar, his expression unreadable. Yeonjun took a deep breath and looked at both you and Jiseok. "Let's finish our drinks and head home," he suggested, the weight of the conversation still evident in his eyes.

Once you arrived to the apartment, Yeonjun sat quietly on the dark living room. Jiseok went to his room, and you debated wether you should talk to Yeonjun or go back to your room.

Something told you that he might need someone to talk to, so you went to the living room and sat next to him.

Yeonjun remained silent, his gaze fixed on some point in the room. You hesitated for a moment before gently breaking the silence. "Hey, are you okay?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and finally turned to look at you. "Yeah, just... wasn't expecting that."

You nodded. "If you want to talk about it, I'm here. And if not, that's okay too."

Yeonjun appreciated the gesture, a small but genuine smile appearing on his face. "Thanks. It's just... complicated. I thought things were behind us, you know?"

"What did she tell you? She looked pretty angry." You tried to pick the correct words, you didn't want to make him feel forced into telling you what happened.

Yeonjun took a deep breath, his gaze flickering as if processing the recent events. "She wanted to talk about us, about our past," he began, his tone carrying frustration. "She's struggling with the breakup, and it seems like she wants to go back to how things were."

"She's having a hard time accepting that it's over. I tried to make it clear that we've both moved on," Yeonjun continued. "But it's tough, you know? We had a life together, and now she's dealing with the aftermath."

"Breakups are never easy. It's understandable that she's struggling with the changes. But you made the right choice for yourself, and that's important." You've never had a relationship before, so you don't really know how breaking up with someone feels like, you've just seen it movies and books.

Yeonjun sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I know. It's just... seeing her like that, it brought back memories, you know?"

The weight of his words hung in the air. Your chest feeling strangely heavy, as if you were getting hurt by his words not really knowing why.

"Do you...miss her?" You felt worried he might actually miss her, your heart ached at the thought of it.

His response was measured, taking a deep breath before answering, as if carefully choosing his words. "I miss the person she used to be, the one I fell in love with. But I don't miss the way things ended up between us. It became toxic, and staying in that wouldn't have been healthy for either of us."

You nodded and somehow felt slightly relieved by this. "Would you give her another chance? If she says she'll change." Your words escaped your lips, inside you felt worried that he might want to go back.

He thought for a moment. "I don't think so," he finally replied. "The issues we had weren't just about her behavior; it was deeper than that. Going back wouldn't fix the fundamental problems we had. People change, but some things are better left in the past."

You placed your hand on top of his without thinking, as a way of reassurance.

"I appreciate your concern," Yeonjun added, meeting your eyes, a soft smile on his lips. "I'm moving on from that, I feel better now, Jiseok and you have been very nice to me, I really appreciate you."

"We just want you to be happy, and you're our friend, we'll never leave your side."

Yeonjun's expression softened, your words had made him feel safe there. He felt home.

After a comfortable silence, Yeonjun decided it was time to go to bed. "It's getting late, you should get some sleep." As the both of you stood up from the couch, you felt Yeonjun tug on your sleeve and pulled you into a hug.

His actions left you surprised, your heart fluttered at the feeling of his warmth. You slowly wrapped your arms around him hugging him back. His chin resting above your head, he muttered a 'thank you' and you squeezed him slightly tighter in response.

After a moment, Yeonjun released the hug, and a genuine smile played on his lips. "Goodnight," he said, his eyes staring into yours making your head spin.

"Goodnight," you replied, watching as he headed to his room.

The next day you sat in the living room, cross-legged on the couch while you stared at the wall, letting your thoughts flood your head. Yeonjun had left earlier, he said he wanted to help with the groceries.

Jiseok noticed your silence, and sat next to you. "You're very quiet today, what are you thinking about?"

You hesitated, unsure of how to talk about your feelings with him. "I've never felt like this before, Jiseok. It's confusing."

He stared at you blankly. "What's confusing?"

"My feelings, I don't know what I'm feeling. I couln't take him out of my mind all night. My stomach, it was weird, it felt as if I was nervous. Like that time when we didn't study for the physics exam, and we got the lowest score of all and the teacher told the whole class." Jiseok's eyes widened when he heard those words.

"Him? What him? Yeonjun?" He took your shoulder making you look at him.

You nodded shyly. "Yeah, Yeonjun."

Jiseok's eyes widened with realization as your words sank in. "Yeonjun?" Jiseok echoed. "You mean you're feeling... something for him?"

You nodded, confusion flooding your thoughts. "I don't know what it is. I've never felt this way before, and it's just... strange. It's like my stomach has a million butterflies, and my thoughts keep drifting back to him."

"Well, it seems like someone might have a little crush. Never thought I'd see the day."

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and you lightly punched Jiseok's arm. "It's not like that! I mean, maybe it is, but it's just confusing. I've never been in love before, and it feels weird. I feel like I'm going mad."

"Love is confusing, that's for sure. But hey, it's not a bad thing. Yeonjun's a good guy. Maybe you should talk to him about it?"

"Of course not!" The idea of telling him your strange feelings for him terrified you. You could see a million of possibilities of how it could go wrong.

"Why not? It's clear he has a thing for you too." You shook your head as a response.

"No he doesn't, he's just nice, that´s it. Plus, how can he like me? We met like a month ago?" You were already feeling nervous at the thought of it.

"Sometimes, things just click. And a month can be enough to feel a certain way about someone."

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and uncertainty. "But what if it ruins our friendship? What if he doesn't feel the same way, and it becomes awkward between us?"

Jiseok shrugged, a more serious look on his face. "Well, you won't know unless you talk to him. And if he's as good a guy as we think he is, even if he doesn't feel the same way, he'll understand and won't let it ruin your friendship."

It made sense in some way, you definitely didn't want to ruin your frienship with Yeonjun, he was one of your closest friends, even if it hurt you in some way that he was just that.

As you contemplated the possibilities, Jiseok gave you a reassuring pat on the back. "Listen, whatever you decide, just remember that your feelings are valid. And whether it leads to something more or not, you guys have a solid friendship. It's worth exploring, and Yeonjun seems like someone who would understand."

That night, when Yeonjun had already gotten back home, you sat on the living room again, as the three of you decided to watch a holiday movie together. Jiseok purposely sat on the edge of the couch, leaving only the space in the middle available.

You shot him a glare as you sat in between him and Yeonjun.

"What should we watch?" Yeonjun spoke as he scrolled down options on the T.V.

"I don't really like Christmas movies." Jiseok leaned back on the couch. Yeonjun chuckled.

"Should we watch something else then?" He proposed.

"Actually I'm really tired, you guys watch something, I'm going to bed." Jiseok stood up smiling to himself and left you and Yeonjun alone.

You looked at each other at the same time making you look away feeling shy all of the sudden, which made Yeonjun smile.

"Well, I guess it's just the two of us now." You nodded, your gaze finally meeting his.

"Do you still want to watch a movie? You can pick any movie you like, I don't really mind." You tried to not talk fast like you always did when you were nervous.

This felt different, now that you've realized you had feelings for Yeonjun. You missed when you didn't feel nervous around him.

"Actually, I wanted to invite you somewhere, are you up for it?" His smile was soft.

"Like right now?" He nodded. "Um alright." You felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Great, come on. Bring your coat." He stood up from the couch and you followed. "Oh, and bring your gloves. If you want to, I mean, I could always hold your hand if you decide to forget them again." A smirk spread across his face, his words leaving you completely flustered. You could only nod and walk as fast as you could towards your room.

Yeonjun chuckled as he watch you race to your room, and he walked to his. He didn't know why he say that, but the way you looked when you blushed, made his heart go crazy.

He waited for you at the door, once you had your coat on and gloves, he opened the door for you. As you walked out there was a comfortable silence.

"Where are we going?" You broke the silence looking up at him.

"I went for a walk earlier, and I found a place that you might like." He smiled at you and you continued walking. As the walk continued he looked down to see that you brought your gloves making him chuckle. "I see you didn't forget your gloves this time."

A blush covered your cheeks. "Yeah, I didn't want to freeze."

He chuckled softly. "Well, I'm glad you remembered. Though, I wouldn't have minded lending you a hand to keep warm. And I thought you liked it when I held your hand." A smirk appeared on his face.

"I never say I didn't." You followed his game, not really knowing where this sudden boldness came from.

His eyebrows raised playfully, and he gave you a teasing side glance. "Oh, so you do like it, huh?"

"Well, just to keep my hands warm." You said laughing nervously.

"Ah, too bad. I was going to hold your hand, but since you brought your gloves, I don't think it's necessary anymore." He walked a little further leaving you behind purposely.

You walked faster matching his step and grabbed his hand surprising him. "I don't mind holding your hand even when I'm not cold!" Your own words surprised you.

His smirk returning to his lips. "Well, in that case," he began, squeezing your hand gently, "I guess I'll just have to find other excuses to hold your hand."

You felt your cheeks grow warm, the realization of what you'd just admitted sinking in. Your heart beating fast just like every time you're close to him.

The walk stopped when you reached a park, you recognized it because of the stone bridge across the lake. You haven't been here in a while.

"Here we are." Yeonjun smiled looking down at you. "I thought you might like it here, I remember you told me about the lake back in your hometown, the one that froze every winter and you skated with your cousins." He squeezed your hand gently. "I thought this place might bring back some fond memories for you. And, well... I wanted to create some new ones with you too."

You looked up at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. The lake reflected the soft glow of the streetlights, creating a serene atmosphere around you. The world seemed to slow down, it was only the two of you, no one else.

"Thank you, Yeonjun," you whispered, feeling a mix of emotions. "For this, for everything." You felt your eyes teary, remembering your childhood always made you nostalgic, and being here with Yeonjun reliving a precious memory from your past made it better.

"I just wanted to see you smile." He squeezes your hand. "Now, I don't have skates, but I think we can do it anyway." You followed him to the edge of the lake.

The lake's surface was smooth, the cold air having solidified the water into a pristine sheet of ice. The surrounding trees were adorned with a light dusting of snow, casting a dreamlike glow over the scene.

"Are you sure you want to do it?" you asked hesitant, it might not be the brightest idea to walk on a frozen lake.

He grinned. "Why not? We'll just try. Come on." Yeonjun began to carefully step onto the ice, testing its strength. "It seems solid enough. Just be careful, hold my hand."

With tentative steps, you stepped over the frozen surface. Not knowing if you were shaking because of your nerves or because of the cold breeze hitting your face.

Yeonjun held your hand firmly, providing both support and reassurance. "Just take it slow," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the soft rustling of the winter wind. "Just hold my hand, I'll guide you."

Your nerves eased slowly with every step you took, and without noticing, you were already standing in the middle of the lake. Your hand still in Yeonjun's. Once you stopped he smiled down at you.

"See? It wasn't that bad." You looked up at him. He looked beautiful, his cheeks and nose red from the cold, his eyes reflecting the city lights, his lips parted slightly, everything about him was beautiful.

He looked down at you so lovingly, his eyes getting lost in yours. His heart beating fast when he noticed how close you were to each other. He broke the eye contact when he saw small flakes of snow falling from above.

The first snow of the season.

You turned to look around, seeing how the snow fell covering everything around you. "It's snowing." You whispered to yourself.

"It's pretty isn't it?" Yeonjun moved closer to you, feeling the slight warmth of his body next to yours. Looking up to see his face again, smiles on your lips.

Yeonjun moved up his hand placing it on your cheek, the soft material of his gloves caressing your skin. Your lips parted slightly, his thumb brushed your cheek softly. The distance between you two closing slowly.

"You had a snowflake on your cheek." He whispered.

His fingers gently traced your jawline, brushing away the lone snowflake that had settled there. The cold from his touch contrasted sharply with the warmth that radiated between you.

"Thank you." You whsipered back. The world seemed to stop, leaving you both in that moment, trying to hold onto it to remember it forever.

"Make a wish, yn. It's the first snow of the season."

Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you took a deep breath, allowing the crisp winter air to fill your lungs. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you made your wish, the words forming silently in your heart.

Yeonjun watched you intently, his eyes soft and full of curiosity. "What did you wish for?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, keeping your wish a secret. "I can't tell you, or it won't come true."

He chuckled softly, pulling you closer into his embrace. "Alright." He paused, his gaze turning thoughtful. "I made a wish too."

"What did you wish for?" You whispered again.

"I wished for you to give me something... something you owe me." His smile persistent on lips.

"Something I owe you? What's that?" You asked.

"You owe me a kiss. You didn't kiss me under the mistletoe the other day."

Your cheeks flushed, the memory of that awkward moment flooding back. "Oh, that's right." You chuckled nervously, trying to hide your embarrassment. "I guess I owe you then."

He leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, he whispered, "Well, then, it's time to collect."

"I've never kissed anyone before..." Your words came out nervously as he leaned in.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of Yeonjun's lips, his gaze gentle and reassuring. "It's okay," he murmured, his lips almost meeting yours. "Just follow my lead."

As the snow continued to fall gently around you, Yeonjun closed the distance, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss that felt like the perfect culmination of all the emotions and moments you'd shared. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the gentle whisper of snowflakes dancing in the air.

The kiss was gentle, and soft. His warm lips perfectly pressed against yours, it was slow, meant to reassure rather than to overwhelm. His touch was soft, guiding you through the motions, teaching without words. It was an innocent kiss, filled with love and tenderness.

When the kiss finally ended, you pulled back slightly, eyes wide and breathless. Yeonjun was looking at you with a softness that made your heart flutter.

"See? Not so scary," he whispered, pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

"I think you read my mind, Jun." He tilted his head slightly to the side, and you continued. "I wished for this to happen."

His eyes sparkled with warmth, reflecting the soft glow of the city lights and the fresh snow beneath your feet. "Did you now?" Yeonjun replied, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and delight. "Well, it seems our wishes aligned perfectly then.

After you stepped out of the frozen lake, Yeonjun pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around your neck, your face now pressed against his chest. For a moment, you allowed yourself to get lost in the embrace, relishing the closeness and the unspoken bond that had grown between you. The world outside faded away, leaving behind just the two of you in your own bubble.

Eventually, Yeonjun gently pulled away, his hands lingering on your shoulders as he looked down into your eyes. "You okay?" he asked softly, concern evident in his gaze.

You nodded, a warm smile forming on your lips. "More than okay," you replied, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. "I'm with you, after all."

His eyes sparkled with affection, and he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. "Let's head back," he suggested.

The walk back home was silent, walking close to each other. Once they reached the apartment, the dim lights cast a warm glow across the room, creating a cozy atmosphere that felt inviting.

Yeonjun turned to you, his eyes searching yours for a moment. "Tonight was... unexpected," he began, a hint of nervousness evident in his voice, "but I'm glad it happened."

When Yeonjun was with you, he felt more like himself, you made him feel like a teenager in love. With you, Yeonjun felt a renewed sense of joy, as if the world was brighter and more vibrant. The weight of past heartaches and disappointments seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the exhilarating sensation of being genuinely cared for and understood.

You smiled, feeling a rush of emotions. "Me too," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Good night, yn." He leaned down, his nose brushing your cheek, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Your heart skipped a beat at his touch. "Good night, Yeonjun," you whispered back, feeling a mix of excitement and warmth spread through you. As he walked away, you touched the spot on your cheek where he had kissed, a small smile playing on your lips.

The next morning you woke up and got ready for work. Today was the last day of work, since you'll be closing the café for the holidays. Upon reaching the café, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries greeted you. Yeonjun and Jiseok were already there, setting up for the day.

"Morning!" Jiseok greeted with his usual enthusiasm, while Yeonjun gave you a warm smile that made your heart flutter.

"Morning, guys," you replied, returning Yeonjun's smile.

As the day progressed, the café was filled with familiar faces, friends wishing you well for the holidays, and regular customers sharing their holiday plans. The atmosphere was festive, with holiday tunes playing softly in the background, and the sound of your bickering with Jiseok over who had the best music taste.

Jiseok went to the staff room to get some supplies, as you and Yeonjun attended the costumers. The bell on the door jingled once more, as you raised your head to greet the new costumer, you were left speechless.

"Yn? Are you alright?" Yeonjun noticed your sudden change.

"It's Jiseok's dad." You whispered subtly, panicking. "He can't see him here."

"What? Why?" Yeonjun was confused by this.

"I'll explain later, just take his order, I'll make sure he doesn't come out of the staff room." You quickly headed to where Jiseok was.

He was about to exit the room, when you pushed him back again and closed the door. He gave you a confused look.

"Um hi?" He said, he was holding the missing ingredients.

"Jiseok, your dad is here." His face went pale in seconds.

"My dad? But he was meant to come here until saturday. What is he doing here?" He started panicking.

"I don't know, Jiseok, but he's here now. Yeonjun is handling him at the counter. Just stay here until he leaves."

Jiseok never had a good relationship with his dad. Since he wasn't as good in school as his father wanted him to be, Jiseok started carings less and less about school because he knew nothing he did would please his father. His dream always was be in a band, so since he was little he entered a music school. He learned to play the guitar and to sing.

But when he finally entered a band, his father disapproved, considering it a mere distraction from Jiseok's academic responsibilities. This led to numerous arguments, with Jiseok feeling trapped between pursuing his passion and meeting his father's expectations.

Jiseok was smart, and very determined, so he told his dad he would leave the band and get better grades if he moved into an apartment by himself. Of course his dad loved the idea, he wasn't at home to look out for him anyway. So eventually he moved into an apartment by himself, he wasn't leaving the band though. But he needed to improve his grades.

And that's when he met you, one of the smartest people in your classes. Part of the scholarship you recieved required social service, which included tutoring other students. The stars really aligned for you two.

Jiseok's dad thought he worked in a big company, in an office with important people, or at least that's what he told him. He wasn't aware that his son worked in a small café with his two friends, that also happened to live with him. Even if Jiseok said he didn't care about what his dad thought about him, he was still scared of disppointing him if he discovered that he is not what he thinks.

Finally, Jiseok's dad finished his coffee and said his goodbyes to Yeonjun, exiting the café. You let out a sigh of relief, signaling Jiseok to come out.

Jiseok emerged from the staff room, his face still pale from the stress of the unexpected visit. "Thanks for handling that," he murmured, gratefully accepting a comforting pat on the back from Yeonjun.

"No worries," Yeonjun replied, offering a reassuring smile. "Everything okay between you two?"

Jiseok hesitated for a moment, glancing at you. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine. Just... unexpected, you know?"

As the last customer left and the door was locked behind them, Yeonjun let out a sigh of relief. "Finally, holiday break for us."

"We don't have to wake up early anymore." You said with a satisfied smile.

Jiseok grinned, stretching his arms above his head. "No more rushing to catch the morning bus or making sure the coffee machine is up."

As the three of you walked back home, you discussed about your plans for Christmas.

"Well, I have to go home and pretend to be a business man." Jiseok chuckled.

"I'm going back to my hometown, my grandma is counting the days for me to go back." You said, a smile on your lips at the memory of the warmth of your childhood house. "What about you, Yeonjun?"

He stayed silent for a second. "I think I'll stay here."

Jiseok raised an eyebrow. "Alone? During Christmas?"

"Yeah, my family doesn't really celebrate it, so it's not that important." He shrugged. His tone was serious, but he had a soft smile.

"You don't have to stay alone here. You can come with me if you want to, I'm sure my family would love to have you over." You smiled reassuringly.

Yeonjun looked touched by your offer, his eyes meeting yours. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to interrupt your family time."

You shook your head. "It's fine, you won't be interrupting anything."

Yeonjun chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Alright, if you're sure it's okay, then I'd love to join you."

"I wish I could join you." Jiseok sighed frustrated.

"Oh Jiseok, you know my grandma doesn't really like you..."

"Oh right, good luck with her grandma." He turned to look at Yeonjun.

Two days before Christmas, Jiseok had already left. You and Yeonjun were the only ones in the apartment. You haven't really talked about what happened the other day in the lake, it made you nervous just to think about it.

It's not like Yeonjun was avoiding the topic, he just didn't know how to talk to you about it without wanting to kiss you again. Every time he thought about it, he remembered how the moment was perfect and how much he wished he could hold you close to him and kiss you again.

You distracted yourself packing up for your trip back home. Every now and then, you would steal a glance at Yeonjun, who seemed engrossed in wrapping some last-minute gifts.

Yeonjun cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Do you need any help with packing? I can carry some bags for you."

You smiled gratefully, "Thanks." You handed him a suitcase, trying to ignore the flutter in your heart as your hands briefly touched.

You were taking the bus that night, it was a rather long trip, two or three hours. As you arrived to the station you told Yeonjun about your family, their traditions and how they're like.

Yeonjun listened intently as you spoke about your family. The bus station was bustling with activity, passengers hurrying to catch their rides, announcements blaring over the intercom.

"They're very traditional," you began, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. "Every Christmas Eve, we gather at my grandma's house. She prepares dinner, and the whole family comes together. We exchange gifts at midnight, although I prefer to open mine in the morning."

Yeonjun's eyes sparkled, he was excited to spend his Christmas with you and your family. "That sounds wonderful. It must be so heartwarming to be surrounded by family during the holidays."

As the bus pulled up to the station, you grabbed your bags, preparing to board. Yeonjun helped you with your luggage, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. You boarded the us and took your seats, Yeonjun letting you sit next to the window.

Settling into your seat, you gazed out the window as the cityscape transformed into sprawling landscapes. The early winter scenery whizzed by, trees barren yet beautiful in their own way, fields blanketed in a light dusting of snow. The soft hum of the bus engine and the occasional passenger chatter provided a gentle background noise, lulling some into a nap while others, like you, lost themselves in their thoughts.

Beside you, Yeonjun seemed equally absorbed in the passing scenery. Every now and then, your arms brushed against each other, sending subtle tingles down your spine. You stole glances at him when you thought he wasn't looking, admiring the way his eyes reflected the passing lights and how his lips curved into a faint smile at some distant thought.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I made a playlist for you." Yeonjun said, as he took out his phone and headphones. "You said the trip was going to be long, so I made a playlist."

Your heart almost skipped a beat. "You did?" A soft smile in your lips.

"Yeah. I tried to add your favorite songs, and some of mine." He said handing you an earbud.

"Did you ask Jiseok?" You placed the earbud.

"Uh, actually I had a list on my notes of all the songs you said that were your favorites. You have a lot of favorite songs, you know?" He chuckled.

Curious, you scrolled through the playlist. Each song bringing back a memory. "I can't believe you remembered all of these," you admitted, genuinely touched by his gesture.

"I had to, they all remind me so much of you anyway."

As the trip continued, the both of you started feeling more and more tired. Yeonjun's head finally fell on your shoulder, leaving you still for a moment, but eventually relaxed and placed your head on top of his.

The rhythmic motion of the bus combined with the comforting warmth of Yeonjun beside you made it easy to drift into a light doze. Every now and then, he would shift slightly, adjusting his position, but never pulling away. The music from the playlist continued playing softly in the background, acting as a gentle lullaby.

As the bus neared your destination, you both stirred awake, stretching and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Yeonjun looked at you, a sleepy smile on his face. "Did you sleep well?"

You nodded, returning his smile. "Yeah, I did."

The bus pulled into the station and the passengers started to gather their things. You stood up grabbing your bags, ready to leave the bus. Once you stepped out you looked around for your mom that would be waiting for you at the station to take you home.

Yeonjun felt nervous, he was going to meet your whole family. Hoping he makes a great impression, he tried to push down his nerves.

As you scanned the area for your mom, you finally spotted her familiar face, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. She waved excitedly, making her way toward you. "Yn! Oh, it's so good to see you!"

You hugged her tightly, inhaling the familiar scent of home. "I missed you." You whispered. Pulling back, you introduced Yeonjun. "Mom, this is Yeonjun. Yeonjun, meet my mom."

Yeonjun extended his hand with a friendly smile, "Hello, nice to meet you."

Your mom shook his hand with a welcoming smile. "I'm glad you came with, Yn."

Driving back home, the streets lined with twinkling Christmas lights, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. You arrived home after a few minutes.

You quietly entered your chidhood house,

taking a moment to breathe in the familiar scent of pine and cinnamon that always seemed to linger in the air during the holiday season. Memories flooded back as you looked around, noting the little festive touches your mom had added to the decor over the years.

Yeonjun, stepping in behind you, seemed to be in awe of the cozy ambiance. The soft glow from the fireplace cast a warm light across the room, and the soft hum of a familiar Christmas tune played in the background.

You made your way to the living room, the house was quiet, everyone was probably asleep. You sat on the couch and Yeonjun followed you. Your mom left you two alone, asking you to be quiet since everyone was asleep.

For a moment, both of you simply sat in silence, lost in your own thoughts, taking in the serenity of the night. Yeonjun's hand brushed against yours on the couch, sending a jolt of electricity through you. He looked over, his eyes searching yours in the dim light.

"You know," he began softly, "being here, with you, feels like stepping into a different world. It's so peaceful."

You smiled, feeling the weight of his words. "I'm glad I could share it with you."

Staring at each other's eyes, leaning closer to each other, almost feeling the warmth of his breath on your lips. Yeonjun breaking the eye contact for a second to look down at your lips.

"Kiss me?" He whispered. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip.

The soft glow from the Christmas lights outside illuminated Yeonjun's face, highlighting the earnestness in his eyes. Time seemed to stretch infinitely, every heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears.

Without uttering a word, you leaned forward, closing the gap between you. The world around you faded into insignificance as your lips met in a gentle kiss. It felt like a culmination of all the stolen glances, unspoken words, and silent yearnings that had passed between you.

Feeling Yeonjun's smile between the kiss, made you smile too. Pulling away slowly, his hand still on your cheek. A soft chuckle escaping his lips as he pulled you in a hug. You returned the embrace, the way he held you in his arms made you feel loved, and safe.

"We've kissed twice and you're still not mine." He whispered, your eyes widened at his words, your heart raced again, the amount of feeling were overwhelming.

Pulling away from the embrace you stared at him, trying to find a sign of hesitancy. He smiled bringing you close to him again, kissing your forehead. Your heart melted with his affection.

"I want to be with you, Yeonjun. I really do." Your words came out as a whisper.

"You don't know how long I've waited to hear those words," he murmured, his voice threaded with vulnerability.

The day of Christmas Eve, you woke up by the noise of your family starting their day. The soft chatter of your family members and the gentle clinking of dishes from the kitchen roused you from your sleep. The familiar sounds brought a comforting sense of nostalgia, reminding you of countless mornings spent in the warmth of your family home.

You walked out of your room and knocked on the door next to your room, where Yeonjun was staying. You waited a few minutes and he opened. He greeted you with a smile and pulled you into a hug.

"Morning." He pulled away, still having that smile.

"Morning, did you have a good sleep?" You asked.

"Yes, I slept really well."

"Come on, my family is probably waiting for us to have breakfast." You grabbed his hand leading the way to the kitchen.

Yeonjun's nerves came again, he forgot he still hadn't met your family. With his free hand he tried to fix his hair and his clothes to look more presentable.

"You look great," you whispered, noticing his sudden bout of nervousness. "They're going to love you."

He gave you a hesitant smile. "I just want to make a good impression."

"You will," you reassured, squeezing his hand reassuringly as you approached the kitchen.

As you entered the kitchen, your family turned to look at you. Smiles on their faces, grateful you were back home. As you greeted them you presented Yeonjun to everyone.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Your aunt asked. Your cheeks went bright red, not knowing what to say. He was your first boyfriend after all. You were abou to respond, but Yeonjun spoke first.

"Yes, I'm Yeonjun. Nice to meet you." He said confidently.

Your family welcomed Yeonjun, and everyone shared a nice breakfast, although your little cousins were all over Yeonjun asking him questions and inviting him to play Nintendo with them.

The day went on normal, you enjoyed all the time you were having with your family. Yeonjun helped your grandma make dinner for everyone. You were happy to see how he got along with everyone really well. You watched him talk happily, as he cut some vegetables. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, he also wore an apron your mother gave him.

He glanced over to where you were, and smiled at you. Your grandma was busy cooking something on the stove. Yeonjun made his way toward you.

"I think your grandma likes me." He leaned closer to you.

"Yeah, she really does. Still don't know why she doesn't like Jiseok though." You chuckled.

He shrugged. "Maybe she likes me because of my cooking skills."

"You're just cutting vegetables."

"I'm trying my best." He smiled.

At dinner time, everyone sat at the table. The nice smell of the homemade dinner filled the air. Yeonjun reached for your hand under the table, giving you a soft squeeze as he kept talking with your family.

Eventually, dinner came to an end, and your family started leaving to go to bed. Yeonjun offered to stay behind and wash the dishes, and you took the opportunity to have an alone moment with him, without your cousins trying to make him play with them.

There was a comfortable silence between you two, as the both of you cleaned the kitchen.

"I had fun today, I'm glad your family liked me." He placed down a plate and turned to look at you.

"I don't see a reason why they wouldn't like you, you're kind, helpful, caring and sweet." You started as you dried the dishes.

"All that?" He chuckled. "That's a lot of good things."

"Yeah, all that." You smiled.

As you finished cleaning the kitchen, the two of you made your way to your bedroom. You closed the door behind you, the gentle click echoing slightly in the quiet room. Turning to Yeonjun, you noticed how he looked at the posters on the walls, and other decorations you had.

"Today went well, don't you think?" you said, attempting to break the slight tension that hung in the air.

Yeonjun nodded, a shy smile playing on his lips. "Your family is wonderful. I felt really welcomed. Being here, with you, it feels... right,"

His word meant a lot to you. Having someone by your side that vared about you and the things you did, that loved you for you.

"Oh, by the way, I got you something." You turned to grab a wrapped gift that was on your bedside table. You handed it to him seeing him smile by your gift.

"Thank you, yn. I'll open it tomorrow, okay?" You nodded. He pulled you in for a hug, muttering a 'thank you'.

"It's getting late, you should rest." You said once you pulled away from the hug.

"Oh, you're right." Yeonjun felt hesitant, he didn't want to leave yet. You noticed this and it made your stomach jolt.

"Or, you could stay. I don't mind that" A smile sprad across Yeonjun's face.

"Good, I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay with you a little more." Your cheeks turned red.

Both of you sat on the edge of the bed. Yeonjun placed his head on your shoulder, seeking for more of your affection.

"You know, I'm really glad I met you that day at the café. You changed my life completely. You made it better." He said, his arms wrapped around your waist.

"I'm glad I met you too," you replied, running your fingers through his hair gently. "You brought so much joy into my life. If it weren't for you, I don't think I would've ever met someone that likes me as much as you do. You really taught me how it is to love someone in no time."

He chuckled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Guess we're both a little better with each other around."

The moment continued, whispering sweet nothings to each other, sharing your warmth, feeling at peace with each other's presence. After a while, Yeonjun stopped responding, the weight of his body pressing against you, he fell asleep.

You could feel the steady rhythm of Yeonjun's breathing against your shoulder, his chest rising and falling in a gentle cadence of sleep. The vulnerability of the moment, the trust he placed in you, made your heart swell with affection.

Carefully, so as not to disturb him, you adjusted the position, letting him lie down fully on the bed with his head resting comfortably on one of your pillows. You lay down next to him, covering the both of you with a blanket. Yeonjun opened his eyes for a moment when he felt the soft fabric of the blanket around him. He wrapped an arm around you, his face finding the crook of your neck. Your hand playing with his hair softly.

You never imagined something like this would happen. Everything was perfect in that moment. You had the person you trusted, and cared for next you, peacefully sleeping on your shoulder. You never imagined that the boy that entered the café on that November day, would be the one you fell for so deeply.

Choi Yeonjun, what have you done to me?

Lua's note: So... it's finally done. It took me so long to write this. I had re write half of this, that's why it took me so much to finish it, but thank you for waiting patiently. I really hope you enjoy this, and have a really nice holiday :)

Tag list: @90steele @gyuletters @reyarain @gigification open!

#k films #tomorrow x together #choi beomgyu #kang taehyun #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #huening kai #lualuabestningdungie #fluff #fanfic #bewitched txt #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun txt #txt yeonjun #yeonjun

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bouncybongfairy · 10 months

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Woodstock 1999

Rick Sanchez x Fem Reader

Summary: After attending a house party, thrown by your friend Summer, you end up meeting Rick. While making small talk, you tell him about the Woodstock 99' documentary that you had just seen and that you wish you could have seen Korn from that festival. Rick is confident that you wouldn’t be able to handle yourself in a crowd like that. When you disagree, Rick tries to call your bluff. By taking you to an alternative reality where Woodstock 99 is taking place.

Word Count: 3k+

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were sweeping the floors, finishing up your shift at the grocery store you worked at. It was Thursday and the store had been relatively quiet for most of the night. Only a couple more customers were wandering the isles, picking up last-minute items.. You were pretty tired, this started as a summer job but you ended up keeping it throughout the school year. It was nice to have extra money for clothes and outings with your friends, it almost made up for how depleting work was. You heard the assistance bell ring from the register, which prompts you to run over. You were pleasantly surprised to see Summer and her mom, you share most of your classes with the redhead. She has actually spent the night at your house a couple of times and vice-versa. You give her a quick mom and start scanning her items. Her mom was going on and on about how all the bottles of wine were for a family event, you looked over at Summer who was rolling her eyes. You held back a chuckle and continued to make polite conversation with Beth. After you bagged their groceries, Beth walked back to the car but Summer stayed back to talk.

“So obviously the family event thing was a lie but I am throwing a party tomorrow while my parents are doing this couple retreat thing. You should totally come,” Summer said.

“Yeah that sounds really fun, did you already invite half the school?” you joked while wiping down the counter.

“A lot of people are coming, yeah, but it’ll still be fun,” she said.

“Yeah for sure, do you want me to bring anything?” you asked.

“Just your hot ass and maybe a bottle would be cool. My mom is calling. I got to go but I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said while walking away.

Normally a house party isn’t really your scene but you were feeling kinda excited. For the past two months, you’ve been in a bit of a funk. Only going to school and work, not feeling up to doing your make-up most days, and dressing pretty bummy. You felt like a good party would break you out of that. Summer and you had a lot of mutual friends so you knew you would have company no matter what. You checked out the last customer and locked the door behind them. You grabbed some stuff for your lunch tomorrow and two bottles of Red Berry Ciroc. The store was owned by an older gentleman who sadly had dementia, his 29-year-old son now runs the store. As long as you gave him an extra ten for each bottle you bought he would look the other way when it came to age. You took an Uber home and immediately got in the shower. Scrubbing all the sweat off your body and lathering your hair in shampoo as Molly Kate Kestne’s Prom Queen blasted through a speaker. You stayed in the hot water until you felt at risk of passing out. You give your mom a kiss on the cheek, wishing her a good night before going to your bedroom. After turning on Jersey Shore as background noise, you fall asleep in your towel; completely worn out by your school and work week.

When you woke up, you were surprised that you slept through the night considering you didn’t get too comfortable before falling asleep. You were feeling extremely well-rested, it wasn’t until you were halfway done with your hair that you remembered about Summer’s party. You were super excited, you had this Saturday off which meant you didn’t have to worry about having a hangover. You throw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and start gathering things into your book bag. Once you got to school, you couldn’t stop counting down the hours until you could leave. It felt like years had gone by once it was finally time for lunch. You were sitting with a group of friends who were all talking about Summer’s party. Maybe it’s because you have a job but your friends seem a lot less mature over these past couple of months. It seemed like if it wasn’t posted or extremely extra then it didn’t happen. I don’t know, it just felt like they did everything for shock value or clout. You thought it was weird how upset they would get if they didn’t look good in a video of them taking a shot or not taking a picture with the blunt before it was smoked. Sometimes you wish you could record how they act during those times and show them later. You pick at your salad, tuning out of their conversation until the bell rings.

Once the last period ended you bolted out of the front doors and made your way home. You flat ironed your hair and started applying a bit of makeup. Rummaging through your closet, you ended up wearing a tube top and a pair of baggy cargo jeans. You grabbed one of the biggest purses you could find grabbed a tee-shirt and wrapped the two vodka bottles in a way that avoids any clanking sound. Your pen, make-up bag, charger, and a couple of other items. You end up walking to Summer’s house seeing that it’s only a 20-minute walk. When you got there, the sun was just barely setting and teenagers were flocking to the house. The house was practically shaking due to how loud the music was. When you walked in you practically had to wave a cloud out of your face. Summer immediately noticed you when you walked in and came over to greet you.

“Hey! Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you came!” Summer said.

“Yeah me too, I needed this really bad. Also.. here are those bottles,” you said, taking the vodka out of your purse.

“Wow, I didn’t think you were gonna bring anything. I’m gonna chill these,” she said, grabbing the bottles and leading you into the kitchen. When you walked in Rick was leaning against the countertop. She shoved the bottles deep into the freezer, in hopes of speeding up the process.

“If you can’t drink -burp- the liquor at room temperature you’re probably not mature enough to be drinking at all,” Rick said, taking a swig from his flask.

“What if we just prefer it chilled? Just because you can doesn’t mean you shouldn’t” you point out.

“Yeah, Grandpa and after I smoke I don’t like the way hot ass liquor feels on my throat,” Summer said, closing the fridge door.

“Doesn’t matter whether your liquor is cold or hot, your party is gonna suck since you put a ban on any of my friends coming. Seems a little like bigotry in my opinion,” Rick said.

Summer ignored him and led you to her bedroom where a girl from your school Tricia Lange was packing a bowl. You asked Summer if it was okay to leave the party unattended. She joked ‘That’s what Morty is for’ which made you and Tricia laugh. She offered you greens which flattered you, after cornering the bowl you handed it to Summer. Coming off a two-week tolerance break, the weed was hitting you fast and hard. You tilted your head up and blew the smoke up into the air. Tricia complimented you on how pretty you looked which made you blush because.. hello its Tricia Lange, one of the hottest girls in your grade. You guys were making small talk when Summer pulled out a pink crystal and started crushing it into a fine powder.

“What is that?” you asked.

“It’s a Kalaxian crystal, it’s pretty mild like snorting molly kinda,” Summer said, lining up the power.

“I.. don’t know about that,” you said looking at the powder suspiciously.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about it showing up on a drug test or anything. It’s not detectable with Earth’s drug tests,” Tricia said, setting her hand on your shoulder.

“No, well that’s good to know actually but imma need to see you take a bump before I do,” you said.

“You humor me,” Summer said, using a hundred-dollar bill to snort the powder, her eyes turning a baby blue.

Summer passed the tray to Tricia who mimicked her action. Your heart was racing as her manicured hands passed the tray over to you. Not wanting to come off as a prude, you took the rolled-up bill into your hand and brought it up to your nose. You sniffed the powder into your nose and coughed a little because the taste was so foreign. The two girls lead you downstairs where the party is now packed and a bit unhinged. Couples making out against any available wall space they could find, groups of people who were surrounding a person smoking out of a gravity bong. Drugs by Lil Aaron was blaring out of several speakers, drowning out almost every other sound. The three of you were dancing together in the living room with several of your peers. You were feeling so euphoric and magical; like you could float off the ground if you really tried. It was then that Summer reminded you of the Ciroc bottles that were in the freezer. All three of you took a shot and cringed as it went down. Summer and Tricia left to go to the bathroom leaving you in the kitchen. You were pretty intoxicated at this point and started to wander. You end up in the garage, where Rick is sitting at his workstation.

“Out!” he barked which caused you to jump and gasp due to how loud and aggressive he sounded, he didn’t even look up.

“S-sorry I -which way..” you started but Rick got up and walked over to you. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up.

“I told Summer to stop giving K-Crystals to her little friends,” he said, seeing the effects from your eyes. You looked over a noticed he had a Woodstock 99’ ticket pinned onto his wall.

“You -hiccup- went to Woodstock 99? You- you’re so lucky you got to see Korn from that crowd,” you slurred without breaking eye contact. He laughed and let go of your chin and walked back to his workstation.

“Did you actually go?” you asked, walking over to him.

“I thought I said to get out earlier,” he said.

“I have selective hearing,” you said, picking up a screwdriver.

“I’m lost, is that supposed to be my problem?” he said.

“Well it -burp- if you really wanted it to be,” you giggled.

“Yeah as much of a catch as you are, I think I’ll pass,” he laughed.

“Oh please I bet I’d be the best pussy you’ve had in months,” you laugh but quickly change expressions as Rick stands up and towers over you.

“Do you really think that you would be an unachievable fantasy to me? Like I’m some sad old stockbroker who has to rely on naivety to get laid? Don’t insult me,” Rick said, taking a sip of his flask without stepping away.

“Your shirt -hiccup- looks so soft, imagine if we could have gone to Woodstock together. You’re so tall that I wouldn’t have to worry about guys reaching up and groping me and I would have the most amazing view of some of the coolest bands of all time,” you said, feeling your high slowly start to come down. He smirked at you before turning around locking the garage door and opening a portal, dragging you through it.

“What- where are we going?” you asked confused, adjusting your eyes to the suddenly sunny skies.

“To call your bluff. There’s no way you could last here, it was kinda a shit show if you didn’t know,” he said.

“I know, I watched the documentary on Netflix,” you said very matter-of-factly.

It took your eye a couple of minutes for them to adjust but once they did, you couldn’t deny you were a little taken back. There really was a lot of nudity and white-boy aggression. You hoped Rick didn’t notice, but every once in a while, you would look behind you to make sure he was nearby. The first thing you wanted to do was get to the airbrush body paint station. You wanted Korn written across your chest in black and pink. At this point, the high of the K-Crystals was completely worn off and all you wanted was a hit of something. It was then you realized you still had your purse, you blindly reached your hand in until you felt your hand hit the cold metal of the battery. Your mouth begins salivating as bring the cart to your lips and take a long drag, blowing it up in the air. You take a couple more drags and notice that the artist has stopped. When you looked down he was just looking up at you. He was probably in his early 30s and had a 90s haircut that was short and spiked with blonde tips. Without breaking contact take another drag and exhale as you speak.

“Sorry, did you want a hit?” you asked playfully, looking over at Rick who was smirking with his arms crossed, evaluating the situation. The guy airbrushing you looked up at Rick who started to speak.

“You know you didn’t come across to me as one of those girls who have nipple piercings,” Rick said.

“Yeah I know, they’re hot right?” you asked to adjust the one that didn’t have any paint on it yet; they were bars with a chain that supported a pink bedazzled saturn charm.

“So uh, Maria is gonna finish up our piece cool?” he said, getting up before either of you could respond which caused both of you to chuckle.

After you were finished up with the body painting tent you made your way to the main stage. Hundreds of teens and young adults were making their way to the exact same location. It was weird because even though you knew what was going to happen, you were still bubbling with anticipation. Rick laughed and mocked you because he knew you had seen exactly what happened and still bubbled with suspense and excitement. When you asked Rick if you could actually sit on his shoulders he didn’t say anything, only nodding in agreement. You were trying to pry about the first time he ever experienced this but he would always give you a bullshit excuse like he was too wasted to remember. As you walked, guys kept approaching you, trying hard to keep conversation. You tried to be polite and at least slow down as you respectfully deny their advance. You even stopped a couple of times but Rick would gently bump into you with his body from behind to keep you walking. Once you got into the crowd, Rick took the arm and pressed his body to your back. He started guiding and shaving his way through the front of the sea of people while having his arms raised, protecting you from the crowd.

Normally if someone was being more polite it would have taken forever to make their way to the front. Rick however wasn’t sparing any feelings as he pushed and shoved. As you people watched, you couldn’t help but take in how different people were in the 90s. One of the biggest things that tripped you out was seeing how different the hair and make-up were of the girls around you. Super thin eyebrows, a thick eyeliner waterline with clumpy mascara. Your lashes were huge and your nails were so long, it felt like everyone was staring at you. Most of the hair extensions were god-awful but you gave them a pass considering this was a festival. The cameras were so retro-looking and looked bulky on the crew’s shoulders. Rick pulled a plastic baggie of pink powder from his lab coat. You assumed these were the same crystals you smoked earlier so didn’t think twice when snorting your fair share. Only later to find out that it was actually Molly, normally you’d be freaking out but I mean… You were in an entirely different dimension. Seemed kinda late for that. Once the intro started, Rick bent down slightly allowing you to sit on his shoulders. You could feel the energy of the crowd growing. It was almost like your heartbeat was getting more intense as the music’s rhythm began picking up.

A camera was coming closer to you, you blew it a kiss and then took a drag of your pen. It could have been because of the drugs but you felt like you were so high in the air, you could see the top of everyone’s head.; like you were a skyscraper. You were truly having the time of your life, it was nice being able to be carefree. Being able to get as wasted or naked as you wanted knowing you had someone to take care of you. You were gently running your fingers through his hair, tugging on it a little bit. You leaned down and whispered into the top of his head,

“Thank you for taking me here, this is amazing,” you said.

He didn’t reply, just ran his hands up and down your leg, starting at your knees and ending at your ankles. You were feeling accomplished that he didn’t get the chance to call your bluff as he put it. When Korn wasn’t playing you could barely hear yourself think over how loud the crowd was. You couldn’t tell if Rick was mad or just concentrating. After a while, you were getting overstimulated by everything going on around you. You asked Rick if you guys could head home, and he opens a portal directly underneath you guys, dropping the both of you back into a garage. You grab the extra tee shirt from your bag and throw it over your body.

“Thanks, we should do it again sometime,” you said before exiting the garage to find summer.

#rick sanchez x reader #rick and morty #rick c137 #Woodstock 1999 #Rick Sanchez FanFic #Woodstock #Korn #korn band #Rick and Morty #alcohol #drinking #smoking #weed smoking #Rick sanchez x you #rick sanchez x y/n

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the-teeshop · 1 year

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The Tee Shop Full Sleeve Solid Unisex Sweatshirt

If you're looking for a fashionable and affordable new graphic printed hoodie, check out our selection of men's hoodies at The Tee Shop. You can find an assortment of stylish Hoodies and sweatshirts to choose from, all available at the best prices in India. Customize your clothing with any print that you want!

#matching sibling t shirts #brother and sister tees #sibling tshirts for adults #brother and sister matching tees #couples sweatshirts customize #men hoodies print #online men hoodies store #couple sweatshirts in ahmedabad #couple sweatshirts print #men hoodies in ahmedabad

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corrodedbisexual · 10 months

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Suck it better

Steddie | E | ~3.5k | AO3 link

Featuring: Porn With Plot (a little bit of plot ok I tried), Hand & Finger Kink, Thumb-sucking, Praise Kink, Competence Kink (if you squint), Hand Job, Blow Job, Masturbation, Fluff and Smut, Boys Kissing, Experienced Eddie Munson, POV Steve Harrington

A slightly belated gift for @stobinesque 🥰 happy birthday new friend!!!

“Sorry, sorry, just a sec,” Steve chuckles, scrambling to tug his sweatshirt from underneath Eddie’s butt. “I’d really rather not have a needle stuck in my dick.” Above him, Eddie giggles. Steve tosses the shirt away and looks up. “What?” Steve raises his eyebrows, unable not to smile back at Eddie’s cheeky expression. Eddie bites on his fist, looks away, then back to Steve, his grin impossibly wide. “Well. If that happened, I could always suck it better, you know.” *** An impromptu lesson in mending clothes takes an unexpected turn when Steve accidentally stabs his thumb with the needle.

They are in the middle of their weekly hangout at Eddie’s trailer, stretched out on the bed in his room, when Eddie suddenly says, “Hey, you’ve got a hole in your shirt, Stevie.”

Steve tugs on the edge of his green sweatshirt to see where Eddie’s pointing. There, he sees it; just below his armpit, the seams have come apart, revealing a gap about two inches long.

It was about time that happened, he supposes. He’s had this shirt for years, and it’s a little tighter on him now that he doesn’t regularly play sports or adhere to a diet. But it’s one of his comfiest ones, so soft and worn. Also, kind of a bittersweet reminder of simpler times, when he was just a high school student, blissfully clueless of what lurks beneath Hawkins.

“Shit,” he murmurs. “I really liked this one.”

Eddie snorts.

“You sound like it got set on fire, or something. It’s fine, it just needs stitches.”

“Right, if only I had a… girlfriend who could fix it for me,” Steve replies. He almost said mother, catching himself at the last moment; it’s kind of pathetic to assume your mom would be mending your clothes at nineteen years old.

Eddie narrows his eyes at him.

“Well, maybe not a girlfriend, but you do have a friend. ”

Steve shakes his head.

“Robin doesn’t know how to sew.”

Eddie groans, kicking him lightly against his shin.

“And that is exactly why it’s sexist to assume you need a girl for the task, Steve.”

Eddie bends over the edge of the bed and reaches under it, pushing some items around audibly, then letting out a triumphant grunt and coming back up with a metal tin box. Bigger than the one he usually carries weed in. He opens the lid, and when Steve looks inside, he sees a bunch of various colored threads, a small pillow of different sized needles and pins, scissors, and several other items he can’t quite place.

“Not all girls can sew,” Eddie speaks, taking a couple of green thread rolls and bringing them to Steve’s sleeve in turn, putting aside the one that looks almost the exact same color. “And not all those who can are girls.”

“Oh,” Steve says dumbly. “I wasn’t… trying to be sexist, sorry. I didn’t know you can sew.”

“What, did you think my battle vest was custom ordered?” Eddie smirks, untangling the thread and biting through it once he has the length he needs; Steve’s too ashamed to admit that it’s kind of exactly what he assumed. “I made it myself. I make a lot of things. Been sewing my Halloween costumes from scratch since I was thirteen. Plus, I patch up my own and Wayne’s clothes all the time. This kinda skill saves you a whole lot of cash.”

“That’s… really cool,” Steve finally says, genuinely impressed. Narrowing his eyes, Eddie pokes the thread into the needle once, twice, then swiftly pulling it through the eye. “Wow, how’d you do that so fast?” Steve laughs. “I remember my mum cursing up a storm for several minutes every time. She was obsessed with embroidery for a while.”

Eddie smirks, setting the thread down and wriggling his fingers in the air. “I guess I just have very talented hands, Stevie.”

Steve swallows, hoping his cheeks don’t look as red as they suddenly feel, because… he’s having a really, really hard time not thinking about exactly how talented Eddie’s hands could be.

Steve blinks back to reality when he realizes Eddie’s saying something to him.

“What?”

“I said, gimme.” Eddie chuckles and tugs on Steve’s sleeve.

“Oh.” Steve looks down at his sweatshirt, then up at Eddie, needle with a green thread already in hand. “Eds, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m aware, I don’t see you holding me at gunpoint,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “I can’t bear witness to a perfectly good thing being thrown in the trash. Also, it literally takes five minutes, do I look busy to you? Come on, shirt off.”

Read the rest on AO3

#took a break from my virgin Eddie agenda for this and it was fun to write #steddie #steddie fic #steddie smut #smut #misha-bawlins fanfic #tw blood #(very minor literally just a pinprick)

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sweetvoicecafe · 3 months

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Welcome to the Sweet Voice Cafe, a HLVRAI AU!

The cafe serves ice cream, hot drinks, and a few options of pastries! Their special includes different themed ice creams with sweet voice ingredients that give actual effects. (Calming, kindness, sleepiness, love, etc.) The decorations are loud and bright, driving away most “karens”. Sunkist is the mascot! The science team has a large apartment upstairs where they reside. It’s basically a collection of Outcodes. This is an AU where Black Mesa, aliens, and powers don’t exist. They simply exist in the Half Life video games. The government has taken notice of this establishment, but are so frightened by the unknown powers of these entities, that they don’t take action.

Information about all characters below!

Benrey (Benny)

He/It/They (He preferred) Nonbinary Omnisexual

He messed around and found out, escaping his reality for but a few minutes. The universe didn’t like that and hard reset, replacing them with an identical Benrey. He can visit his old AU, but if he ever tries to interact with someone he gets teleported out of distance. He eventually found the Sweet Voice Cafe. In his free time, he enjoys working there (it supplies sweet voice or works the cash register sometimes), playing video games, or traveling the multiverse, usually the latter.

Outfits include blues, purples, and pinks, plus sort of 80s aesthetics. Comfy clothes like hoodies and sweatshirts. It does have some casual hats, but his helmet is a comfort item.

Powers:

- Sweet Voice

- Multiverse Travel/Portals

- Glitching/Clipping

- Fast Healing/Immortality

- Flying/Floating

- Size Manipulation

Mr. Coomer

He/Him Trans Bisexual

He’s from an AU where he became self-aware way too early on and panicked. The game didn’t like that and expelled him from the universe. He floated in the void for a bit, but luckily not long enough to go crazy, less than a couple of days. He was rescued by Bubby and they ended up traveling together for a while before meeting the others and settling down. He became a co-owner of Sweet Voice Cafe, but enjoys working alongside everyone, usually greeting customers. He’s a very fun and extroverted manager, but takes harassment of his employees very seriously. A look alone can scare off the worst of customers.

Outfits include collared shirts, Hawaiian shirts, and rolled up sleeves. Likes green tones and bootleg brand logos.

Powers:

- Sweet Voice

- Advanced Biotech (extendo arms/legs, rocket launcher arm, artificial colon, etc.)

- Sometimes unable to feel pain and others times feels it to the extreme (not allowed to work with the hot items)

- Glow in the dark eyes/Night vision

- Can eat anything (he’s considered the trash disposal lol)

Bubby

He/Xim Agender Pansexual Demiromantic

Bubby’s world was dismantled very quickly by a virus, only a few minutes into gameplay. Bubby had only met Tommy for a short moment. When the world glitched out of existence, his body went into overdrive to protect him. Xe floated through the void for a long time in a coma. He finally awoke when a faceless NPC let him out. After exploring his powers, Xe traveled the multiverse alone at random for quite a while, a couple years at least. He met Coomer and they settled down in an unknown AU after about a year. He’s a co-owner of SVC, but prefers to work more behind the scenes, ordering people around in the kitchen and making hot drinks (no need to pay for machines yippee!). Although he’s strong enough to pick the AUs he goes to now, he only uses it to visit rage rooms lol. He has a couple pet Snarks named Pyro and Ember.

Fashion-wise, he would wear any type of outfit and SLAY. But his preferences include leather jackets, turtlenecks, and flowy skirts. He prefers cyan, black, red, and neon colors, especially if it has flame motifs. Xe doesn’t wear pastels unless it’s blue.

Powers:

- Ultimate Lifeform

- Pyrokinesis

- Controlled Multiversal Travel

- Turning into a car (and speaking to/controlling them)

- Translation of any language

- Telekinesis

- Pretty much any power you can think of. You have no idea what he will do next and he likes it that way.

Tommy Neapolitan

He/Him Cis Asexual Panromantic

Tommy hails from a world where he chose his last name based on ice cream, and loves smoothies instead of soda. He experienced the entire game before he was taken during his birthday party at Ben and Jerrys. (SVC) Gman, grieving from his loss, saw Tommy and embraced him, taking him with him to the next AU. With the lack of Tommy, his original world was overwritten to fix it, effectively replacing him. Gman and Tommy didn’t get along for the longest time, but now they’re on speaking terms, albeit tense. Tommy manages most of the ice cream department because of his expertise in flavors. He also does the bookkeeping.

Tommy wears mostly soft colors, usually yellow, orange, and pink coded. He prefers loose clothing, but ties it back when working with food.

Powers:

- Time powers

- Glow in the dark eyes/Night vision

- Sweet voice (better at reading than speaking it though)

- Semi-photographic memory

Gordon Martinez

He/Him Trans Bisexual

Because he hails from a “it is a game” AU, you can imagine how shocking it was when supernatural stuff happened in his OWN home, not in the VR set. To this day, he’s still unsure what exactly happened. Aliens? The government? Fairies? He doesn’t know and doesn’t care. When they started getting attacked, his first instinct was of course to protect his son. Soon enough, Bubby rescued them and brought them to SVC. He is divorced, but luckily Gordon has full custody and is just grateful his son is safe. He was more than happy to settle down, despite Joshua’s grumblings. He helps with the miscellaneous baking in the kitchen. His bestseller is his croissants! In his free time, he enjoys streaming or binge watching tv.

He’s drawn to warm colors for his outfits, usually oranges and browns. He likes sweaters or shirts with funny dad jokes. He has a couple of hoodies as well.

Powers

- Does being an absolute nerd count?

Joshua Martinez

He/Him

Joshua is 6 years old. He doesn't understand what happened, but whines to Gordon about missing his friends and why they can’t go back. He’s happy he gets a big room to himself now at least! Gordon eventually enrolled him in a nearby school. He enjoys cowboys, dinosaurs, music, and video games. His least favorite class is math. He very much enjoys the free ice cream he gets from the shop. Benrey had to be scolded for giving him too much one time asdgfhjkl.

Tshirts with logos! Doesn’t have a color preference yet, but does enjoy his cowboy hat and assorted bandanas the team keeps getting him.

Powers:

- Puppy dog eyes you cannot resist (but should learn to)

George Mantle (GMan)

He/It Agender Aroace

George lost his Tommy in a freak accident that also wiped out his entire world. He wandered the multiverse aimlessly, unfortunately not finding any AUs with a Tommy either. It met a Slick once, but noticed how differently they sounded and acted, so he didn’t pry. The first Tommy he saw was Neapolitan. He immediately hugged him, and the universe decided “oh hey, angst” and kicked them both out. It took a very long time for the two to get on good terms. It tries its best in forming a connection though. Gman focuses on keeping the establishment running and secretly watches the government to make sure they don’t do something… unwise to his friends. He wants nothing to do with multiversal travel anymore, no siree.

He wears lots of suits. They’re just the most comfortable to him. They do end up varying in color and pattern. One time Tommy got him a long sleeved shirt with a pattern of a fake suit on it and he nearly cried. (Tommy took it to mean the gift was bad, but Gman was just moved his “son” was trying to make a connection.)

Powers:

- Time manipulation

- Clipping/glitching

- Teleportation

- Invisibility

- Glowing eyes/Night vision

- Could breathe in space/underwater but has no interest in doing so.

Forzen

He/She Bigender Abrosexual

Forzen doesn’t quite remember where he came from. She just woke up here one day, I guess. He doesn’t live with the science team and only shows up every once and a while as a customer. He only orders original Rocky Road ice cream. In reality, the government asked her to keep an eye on SVC. Since this is a world where aliens and supernatural occurrences don’t exist, they’re very unsure how to handle the situation. Frozen is laid back and bored over the whole thing. She’s just happy he gets a free living space and unlimited pizza and textbooks at his disposal. The government asked what he wanted to graduate in, and he never ever elaborated.

He mostly wears baggy t-shirts and jeans, sometimes cargo pants. Dull colors or funny phrases.

Powers:

- Teleportation

- Super Speed

- Indestructibility (this greatly frightens the government, especially after he denied wanting to fight for their military)

Darnold

They/He/She Genderfluid Asexual Demiromantic

Darnold is from an unknown AU. Maybe. They either remember and don’t want to talk about it, or don’t care. She very quickly adapts to the new place and the science team welcomed him into their apartment. He very much enjoys his place in the cafe, able to experiment and mix flavors and sweet voice combinations in his lab. Tommy tried to help gather sweet voice, but he’s not good enough at it himself, and Sunkist wouldn’t listen. So Darnold has to stock up on the sporadic times Benrey returns. They enjoy flying kites and playing TF2 in their spare time.

Their favorite outfit is sweater vests and she enjoys darker warm colors, like maroon and purple. She collects various bow ties.

Powers:

- Fast Healing

- Flying

- Not much else, but can invent stuff easily from scrap metal and spare parts

Sunkist

She/He/It

No one knows where Sunkist came from because, well, she can’t speak. As he is the perfect dog, he doesn’t shed, and is allowed to freely roam the cafe, or wherever else she’d like to wander off to. As the mascot, it is well beloved by the community. It can change his form from a flat (and slightly glowing and transparent) png to a human-sized dog at will. Very quickly bonded with Tommy and became a support when he was struggling with the situation. It cares for everyone on the science team, regardless of whether it listens to their demands or not.

Sometimes wears bandanas, collars, or bows with soda motifs. No one gifted it to her, she just appears with them sometimes and they may change when you blink . . .

Powers:

- Sweet Voice

- Immortal and indestructible

- Clipping and flying

- Teleportation

- Glowing (including in 3D form, but it's by random)

#hlvrai #hlvrai au #Sweet Voice Cafe #SVC au #benrey #dr coomer #dr bubby #tommy coolatta #(kinda)#gordon feetman #joshua hlvrai #gman hlvrai #forzen #darnold pepper #hlvrai sunkist #HarmonyTRE

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purpleyoonn · 2 years

Text

My Light

“Your beauty brought out the light in him, made him see how dark the world truly was. He couldn’t bare the thought of leaving you in the dark.”

Summary: Your uncle had left you a home in some seaside town you hadn’t heard of. Moving out there was easy, but living there was harder. Until he found you, then...you didn’t know what to think.

Pairing: Mermaid Prince Jimin x Human Reader

Genre: soulmate au, yandere au, fantasy au, mermaids, mental illness

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: mc has depression, thoughts of depression, mermaid Jimin, yandere Jimin, Jimin stalks the mc, possessive Jimin, mermaid customs, forced marriage, perceived dream sex, smut, kidnapping, stalking,

(please let me know if I miss any tags/warnings)

Masterlist // Navigation

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The waves crashed against the shore, the dock swaying to the pulse of the water rocking against the wood. You sat on the dock, pants rolled up as you rested your feet in the water. Your flannel was dark from the dirt you had mucked through. It had been a long day, helping your neighbor sort through his garden.

You lived alone in a small cottage, about a couple yards away from the shore, your favorite place. You had inherited the small home from some uncle you had never met, your name the only one written in his will. You remember laughing at the lawyer, thinking the entire meeting was a joke.

But now, you were thankful.

You had been living in the small coastal town for a couple months now, acquainting yourself with your uncle’s neighbors and friends who had all come by to say their condolences. Your neighbor, in particular, seemed to push the closest. He was an old man who your uncle had grown up with, and he and his wife were always bringing food over to your door, worried for your ever shrinking frame.

You had grown to enjoy their company, but sometimes, like now, you loved the silence that came with being alone.

Before moving here, you had been overwhelmed with life, and the stimulation of living with your large family always made you irritated and wanting to jump out of your skin. Since moving into your uncle’s home, you had rarely felt that way, but when you did, you came down here to the docks. The sound of the ocean always drowned out the sound of your own thoughts.

The shore was rocky, almost to a point, and was the perfect hiding spot for curious mermen and sirens who noticed the humans on the shore. Currently, Jimin was hiding behind one of the larger rocks closer to the shore, still hidden from view. He had been watching you for some time, curious about the human who took over his old friend’s home.

Your uncle had saved him from a hunting accident, had stitched together his tail from the hole the hook had made. Since then, it was a mutually protective friendship. Your uncle made sure no one hunted in his water, and he would make sure that your uncle always had fish for his table.

It had only been a couple of months since he last saw his friend, Jimin remembering the promise he made to watch over his young niece. He didn’t understand until he saw you for the first time, your long pants and sweatshirt covering your body, as if you were hiding from something. You drew him in immediately, your presence like his very own lighthouse, always drawing him in and capturing his attention. He seemed to always know when you were at the shore, like his mind was trained on your soul.

Even now, he could tell you were at the shore, bringing him from the bottom of the ocean, where his cave was located, to the surface. He watched as you silently cried, his heart clenching at the sight of you. He wanted to hold you, comfort you and tell you everything would be okay. He tried to stay hidden, but once your salty tears mixed with the water, he couldn’t stay still any longer.

You were trying to wipe the never-ending flow of tears from your cheeks when someone’s hand held your own, and rubbed their thumb against your cheek. You opened your eyes, staring straight into the deep blue eyes in front of you as they moved to cup your cheek.

You were silent as he wiped your tears, your eyes trying to make sense of what you were seeing. This man was beyond beautiful. His features were sharp but held something akin to magic as he captured your attentions. His torso was completely bare, but his hips, not covered by the water, were covered in a light purple, shimmering skin. The beginning of what looks like scales just peeking through the water.

“Who are you?” The words manage to slip past your lips as he continues to cup your cheeks in his hands, his eyes moving over your features, emotion covering his face in a way you haven’t seen in years. His eyes held a softness you wish you had experiences more, wished you had someone who would look at you with.

He didn’t answer, just moved a hand up to brush the hair out of your face. He brought your face down and placed his lips on the top of your head, stilling for a couple of seconds before pulling away. His hands leaving your skin as he descends back into the water.

The whole thing only took a couple of minutes, but to you, it felt like hours. His touch lingering on your skin as the feeling of his lips on your temple becomes a permanent sensation of warmth. You felt a familiarity in your heart when you were with him. Something you couldn’t explain.

You realized, as you were walking back up the dock and towards your home, that you don’t even remember why you were crying, why you were feeling so down. It was like you heart and soul were warming up. The feelings of inadequacy and loneliness were numbing, but the stranger’s touch was warming, all encompassing.

You turn back around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beautiful and calming man, but you have no such luck. You open your door and immediately move to make a cozy little nest for you to burrow in, lighting a couple of your favorite candles as you put your favorite movie on. You needed all the comfort you could get right now.

Jimin just watched from his spot behind the large rock, his heart beating at the sight of you all burrowed up in your blankets. He couldn’t help but to wish you were with him, letting him curl around you in comfort as you lay in the seaweed and moss bed he would make for you.

-*-*-

You were slowly losing your mind, you thought.

Every morning, you woke up to seashells and other remnants of the sea on your porch, with no way of knowing where they came from. You wondered if they came from your mystery seaman, but you hadn’t seen him since that day on the dock.

You never did anything with the shells until one day. You had woken up and done your routine, finishing with a check of your porch to see what treasures remained today. But only one shell was there, a large scotch bonnet laid on the wood of your porch, its color unusual, the deep purple and blue catching your attention immediately. It shined under the morning sunlight, causing hues of purple and blue to shine on your clothing as you moved closer.

Moving back inside, you placed the shell on your windowsill in the kitchen above your sink, just overlooking the dock as that is where the best sunlight comes in during the day. You couldn’t help but admire it, hoping it came from the seaman who wiped your tears.

You felt connected to the man, wondering and hoping you could see him again.

Deciding to continue with what you planned to do today, you grabbed a couple of your reusable bags and made your way to the market in town. The market consisted of several vendors, a lot coming from neighboring inland towns to sell their goods. There was a couple of produce stands, and even a baked goods stand that had the most wonderful blueberry scones. Those were your favorite.

Your steps were slow in approach, eyes curious and gazing as you looked over everything you could see. There were a lot more booths and vendors out in the market space today. A jewelry stand caught your eye, the sea opal jewelry catching your eye as you moved forward. A ring made of molded metal, clutching a single oval shaped sea opal in the center was the one that had you entranced. It was beautiful and the trance you were in had you trying it on your ring finger.

It fit perfectly, shocking you but also making you think that it was meant for you. But reality had to set in. Your budget for the month only allowed you very slight leeway and you had already used the extra money on new gardening supplies so you could continue to plant vegetables. That, however, was also why you were at the market. You needed to get some vegetables, and some seeds so you could plant.

Reluctantly, you sat the ring back down on its stand before thanking the stand worker for letting you try it on. You didn’t even notice the tall man who walked up, hood hiding his face as he buys the ring you had just tried on.

Moving down the path you search for the produce stand you had seen last market day, the older woman who ran the stand had been nice and had helped tell you which was best to plant when. You were hoping to talk to her again, gain more useful advice from her about planting.

And that’s exactly what you got; she even walked you home after she closed and packed up her table. She showed you the best places to plant certain vegetables, which soil usually worked best with each, and how much sunlight and water each one needed to grow their best. It was overwhelming, but you were smart to take notes as she spoke.

When the day was gone and night fell, you were ready to pass out. You were happy with what you got accomplished, a relatively new feeling that you haven’t experienced in years. You were getting ready for bed, the twin bed perfect for yourself and one or two of the stuffed animals you bought for comfort. You managed to pass out quickly, not even noticing the shell you had received that morning was no longer in your kitchen, but on your nightstand.

Featherlight touches. Soft lips trailing up your body. A weight on you as you relaxed into the sheets. Your dream was lifelike, the loving touches and breathless praises like music to your mind as you leaned into the touch.

“So beautiful, my love.” Another kiss placed in between your breasts, hands roaming the expanse of your thigh.

“Waited a long time for you, for this.” His lips moved down your stomach, kissing your pubic bone before diving into your pussy, his tongue licking a stripe up your cunt as you tried to close your thighs around his head. He let you, groaning at the taste and feeling of you and surrounding him.

“My love, it’s like you were made just for me.” His lips close around your clit, your back arching off the bed as your release coats his tongue, more moans and groans leaving his lips as his hands tighten around the top of your thighs.

His words were like music in your dream-like state, a siren in your head, dragging you deeper into the woes of pleasure as he leaves finger shaped bruises on the tops of your thighs.

Everything was hazy, the touch of him euphoric as he never stopped, orgasm after orgasm leaving your body. The feeling of his lips sucking marks into your skin left you breathless as his cock driving into your core left your seeing stars.

“I promise, my love, I will give you a better life. I will take you away from here. You will be happier with me.” His words whispered into your ear didn’t make sense, this was a dream, so why would your dream man say something like that?

You could feel him holding your left hand up, his fingers on yours and then a weight on your ring finger. You looked over and saw him kissing a ring on your finger, eyes locked on yours the entire time.

“I will see you soon, my love.”

Sunlight streaming through the window was your alarm, the warmth on your face a nice welcome to the colder weather you had been experiencing recently. You realized it was light though once you pushed your blankets off of you, the cold air nipping at your skin and making you rush for your sweats and sweater.

Your legs were a little wobbly as you moved, a little struggle on your part as you had to hold onto your dresser to try and find your clothes.. Once dressed in a large t-shirt that had been thrown haphazardly, you moved for your bathroom door only to stop in your tracks as you stared at yourself in the mirror you had hanging from the back of your door.

Your neck was littered in purple and blue bruises, different shades and sizes. As you pulled at the neck of your sweater, you saw the top of a couple more littering your collarbone. Your eyes were wide with shock as you stared at your reflection. You moved your hand back down, only for it to get caught in the light, your mind now noticing the ring you wore on your ring finger. The same exact ring you tried on at the little vendor yesterday.

“What the…” You spoke aloud, something you were known to do. Nothing made sense. It was just a dream. You had now completely forgotten your mission to find warm clothes.

You move to sit back down on your bed, hands slowly moving to the inside of your thighs, a grimace crossing your face as you feel the bruises, shaped like a handprint, on your inner thigh, right where the man held you down in your dream.

You could feel your heartbeat starting to pick up, the feeling in your neck creating a pattern for you to try and breath with. Someone was in your room. Someone did this to you when you thought you were dreaming.

You could vaguely hear someone knocking at your door. Your mind was playing tricks on you, that’s it, you thought. When you thought you gathered your bearings, you moved forward again, pushing past the mirror, not wanting your perceived illusion to be real.

The person at the door had stopped knocking but was instead trying to talk to you through the door.

“My love, I promise everything will be okay. Just let me in so we can talk.” The voice was the same from your dream, their words matching the man who spoke sweet praises in your ear.

You were frozen, your hand holding onto the wall of your small hallway for support. You couldn’t feel your legs nor could you hear anything else through the sound of your heartbeat thundering in your ears. You held your breath, hoping that the man wouldn’t notice you were still home. Hoping he would think you had already left for the morning.

“My love, I know you’re in there. I can smell you.” His voice had a singsong tone to it now, almost condescending or teasing.

You looked around your small home, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon, anything that could be used for protection. You held a hand over your mouth, hoping to stay quiet as you tried to step back into your room, where you knew you could get out through the large window over your bed.

The door knob startled to rattle as your door began to move against the doorjamb. “Please, baby. Don’t be afraid of me.” You could feel a tear slipping down your cheek, a hopefully quiet whimper leaving your lips as you bump into the wall just in front of your bedroom door. The front door opens just as you stand in the doorway to your room, the merman, now with human legs, stood there with a loving look in his eyes.

He looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

“Why are you trying to hide? I told you I would come back for you once I had everything ready?” He seemed genuinely curious, concern lacing his tongue as he moved inside, closing the door behind him.

He moved forward, your body bumping into your dresser and chair before finally landing against the wall as you tried to move away from him. He didn’t stop though, wanting to be as close to you as he could.

“I couldn’t stand to see you so sad that day. My heart hurt for you; my soul ached to be the one to make you smile again.” His words were soft, loving as he brought his hand up to caress your cheek, freezing for a second when he saw you flinch before continuing.

“I chose such soft kelp for our bed, and even wove together some seaweed for a blanket, knowing how much you love to cuddle underneath them.” He moved closer as he spoke, pressing against you and making you wince as you had to change your weight distribution, the ache between your legs becoming worse.

He noticed quickly, his hands moving from your cheeks to your legs, pushing them open as he pulled your underwear down, the large t-shirt being pushed up so he could look at your core. You tried to push him away but he moved to hold both of your hands in one of his own, his strength unparallel to what you would think.

“Shh my love.” He cooed, moving in to place a kiss on your mound, before spreading your folds and placing a kiss directly on your core. His cold lips had you jolting away in shock.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you. But I promise you will get used to it. I will love you every second of every hour.” He raises back up to his feet, something in his eyes changed as he looks down at you once again.

Before you can even scream his lips are on yours, your mind becomes hazy as your eyes begin to blur. He pulls away after a couple seconds, the smile on his face large as your sight gives way to the darkness.

-*-*-

Floating.

That’s the first thing that comes to your head when you open your eyes again. Either that or you were dead. The only light came from an opening in the dark about twenty feet from where you were. You tried to sit up, only to find that you were indeed floating in the water that surrounded you.

Your eyes widened in terror, wondering how the hell you were breathing. How you were even alive was completely unknown to you. You felt an arm wrap around your naked torso, looking down only to see your private areas covered in some sort of woven cloth.

“Good morning, my love.” The voice of the merman spoke from behind you, the arm around your torso tightening as he pulled you closer into him. You tried to hold in your sob, your hand moving to cover your mouth.

“I’m so happy you woke up. I can’t wait to show you around. I think you’ll especially love this little family of seahorses that live around the coral on the side of our cave.” He held onto you as he swam forward, no tail in sight as he helped you to the entrance. He noticed you looking at his legs, and spoke.

“Oh, don’t worry darling. My tail will come back after our mating period ends and will return after a couple of days. Us merpeople can change at will, only when mating comes into play.”

You really hate evolution.

There were hundreds of merpeople, dozens of caves on the bottom of this…ravine? There were families swimming along the bottom and up the top as the moved from cave to cave. Your heart was caught in your throat as you looked up, the sunlight peering down at you, mocking your exit.

“Isn’t it beautiful? You can’t go out yet, I wouldn’t want someone to snatch up my beautiful mate while in her mating cycle.” His smile reached his eyes making them appear closed as he pressed a quick kiss to your nose.

“Now come on, my love. I can already smell how ready you are again.” The man, you still haven’t learnt his name, moved his hand down to your core as he pulled you back into the darkness of the cave.

As your legs floated in front of you due to the momentum of him pulling you backwards, your legs opened enough for him to push two fingers in, the gasp leaving your lips loud and echoing.

He pulled them out just as quick, bringing them to his lips as he pushed you down on to the soft surface, moving to hover over you.

“You taste delicious baby. I’ve been waiting to taste you again.” He holds your legs open and places them over his shoulders as he moves in again, this time his tongue out to catch the slick dripping out of your core. You hated how turned on you were, the feeling unwanted but almost natural.

You moaned quietly as he licked at your clit, his plump lips doing wonders to your body.

“Please..” You whimper, not even knowing what you were asking for.

“Please what baby? What do you need?” You moan again, his words causing the knot in your stomach to form.

“I—” A moan leaves your lips again, cutting you off. You didn’t even realize your hands were now in his hair, pulling at the strands in pleasure.

“Jimin.”

“What?” You look down at him, the sight of him slurping and sucking at your core leaving you absolutely breathless.

“The name you want to moan out.” He answers with a sly smile on his lips, your slick dripping from his mouth, despite the water you were buried in.

“It’s the name you are going to be screaming out soon, my beautiful mate.”

And he was right, you were screaming out his name as you finally came on his tongue, his fingers rubbing the inside of your walls as he pumped in and out of you. You screamed his name as he thrusted in and out of you, his teeth in the crook of your neck as he came inside of you, his hot cum filling you and making the bulge in your stomach bigger.

Once he finished for the third time inside of you, he let you rest as your eyes closed. Sleep seemed to take over as he caressed your cheeks again, moving down to soothe the mark his teeth made on your neck when the light reflection from behind you caught his eye.

The same shell that started this rested on top of the rock he uses as a side table. The very shell that meant you accepted his courting when you chose it over all the others he brought you. He was so happy when you put it in the window, like a beacon of welcome for him to see. It was you letting him know you were ready for him.

He was so happy that day that he couldn’t wait to show you his love, choosing for the first time to stay on his human legs and watch over you. He bought the ring he saw you wearing, the sea opal calling out to him. He knew then and there it would be the perfect mating ring for you. It was made to fit your finger just as you were made for him.

The darkness consumed you once you passed out from exhaustion, but the light he saw in you would overcome everything, even the darkness of his own soul.

#bts #bts au #bts jimin au #bts jimin #park jimin #bts jimin one shot #mermaid jimin #mermaid au #jimin au #yandere jimin #jimin x reader #human reader #angst #hurt/comfort #bts hurt/comfort #bts soulmate #bts soulmate au #dark bts #purpleyoonn

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