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yelena-bellova · 1 year

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

Chapter Two: Strangers in the Night

Plot: Joel and Y/n try their hardest to ignore and avoid their past while waiting on the cover of night to leave the QZ.

Warnings: M for violence, gore, language, allusions to sex, alcohol, unwanted advances (16+)

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: Okay, let me just say, did not expect such a big reaction to this little 2.2k fic I thought up randomly. You guys wanted a series, so here’s a series. It’ll be 16+ from here so please specify your age in your bio if you’d like to be tagged. I’m really excited to write this one, hope y’all enjoy it! It's gonna be a wild frickin' ride...

——————————

May 9th, 2002, Austin Texas

It was unseasonably warm for spring in Austin. Summer was making an early entrance and driving everyone indoors. The bars were packed each night, but especially on the weekends. Something about the heat always inspired people to drink more.

The Miller brothers were seated at a table in the far corner of Dane’s, each nursing a Budweiser. Despite it being a Saturday, they’d worked overtime on a garage apartment conversion. It was in Joel’s neighborhood and he needed the money. Jobs hadn’t been ripe for picking lately, in going the extra mile with the clients he did have, he could bank on a few referrals.

“We’re runnin’ short on the 2x4s,” Joel told his brother, “And it wouldn’t hurt to-“

“Dude,” Tommy made a slicing motion with his hand, “You’re off the clock. Switch off for a while.”

“I’m just trying to get ahead,” Joel replied.

Tommy smiled, lounging in his chair, “Look, you’ve got two modes: work mode and dad mode. And guess what? You never come out of either. It’s a Friday night, you’ve got a sitter, why not just try being a single, not-offensively unattractive, guy?”

Joel’s eyebrows were permanently furrowed, especially around conversations like this. Tommy meant well, but he’d been trying to get Joel to find something outside of work and his daughter for years. It wasn’t happening.

“So you’re sayin’ I should focus less on keeping a roof over my daughter’s head and makin’ sure she’s happy?” Joel asked, leaning back in his chair, “I get that right?”

Tommy chuckled and shook his head, “I’m just saying…you’re gettin’ more and more like an old man the longer you’re by yourself. Wouldn’t hurt to find someone that makes you happy.”

It was easy to ignore Tommy’s ramblings, but Joel couldn’t deny there was some truth to what he was saying. After Sarah’s mom up and left them, he kept his heart guarded from the world. Sarah and Tommy were the only ones he had the space to love. No, not the space. He had all the capacity in the world to hold someone else close to his soul, he was just too afraid of getting hurt again.

A few feet away at the bar, Y/n twirled her wine glass in her hand. Navigating a new city and a new job was taking it out of her. There had been no catalyst in her decision to move to Austin. She wasn’t running from a bad relationship nor did she need space from her family, she’d just wanted a change. So far, aside from the random heat wave, she was enjoying herself. The people were friendly, the neighborhood was quiet…she could see herself eventually calling the place home.

As she enjoyed her own company, a muscly man approached the seat next to her. He didn’t even do her the courtesy of asking if it was taken.

He flashed a pearly smile at Y/n, “Havin’ a good night?”

“Mm-hm,” she nodded, not looking up from her glass.

“Haven’t seen you around here,” the man continued, “You new to town?”

Y/n politely smiled, wishing he’d taken the hint. “Sure.”

“Findin’ your way around alright,” he put his elbows on the bar, indicating he wasn’t going anywhere, “Or are you thinkin’ you need a tour guide? Someone to show you around? Help make you feel a little more comfortable?”

Y/n was fighting the urge not to laugh, she’d seen dogs in heat more subtle than this guy. “I’m doing fine on my own, thanks,” she replied, her will to smile fading with each second he stayed.

“I don’t know,” the guy dragged his fingers up and down the condensation on his beer bottle, “You seem a little lost to me, darlin’. I got a hog outside, we could head out…night scene’s pretty wild here.”

Y/n took another sip of her wine, “Not really a wild kind of gal.”

The man’s lingering stare was beginning to make Y/n’s skin crawl. It was like he was staring straight through her clothes. He leaned in to her, his arm grazing hers, as if the close proximity was imperative to what he was about to say.

“I got this theory that inside every woman,” he lowered his voice, “There’s a wild girl just waitin’ to come out. She just needs the right cowboy,” he paused, a smile spreading across his lips, “To let her loose.”

Concealing her annoyance, Y/n looked down at her glass bashfully. She peeked back up out of her eyelashes, “What’s your name?”

“Jacob,” he answered.

“Jacob,” she repeated sweetly, leaning in closer to him, “Going around trying to prove how big your dick is ain’t gonna make any woman want to touch it.”

Jacob pulled back a little, shocked at both the comment and how easily being foul mouthed came to this woman. Y/n scrunched her nose and gave a sugary smile before moving to get up from her stool.

Jacob grabbed her shoulder, not prepared to lose the battle. “Hang on there, sweetheart.”

“Let go of me,” Y/n was quick to say.

“I don’t think you quite understand what I’m offerin’ you here…”

“Let,” Y/n gritted her teeth, raising her voice slightly, “Go of me.”

Jacob began to close the space between their faces, “What’re you gonna do if I ain’t ready to say goodbye to ya yet?”

“Hey.”

Y/n turned to the two men who had approached while she was fending Jacob off. The one with the mustache swung his fist and landed a shiner on Jacob’s nose. The whole bar gasped as he stumbled backwards, clutching his now bleeding face. The mystery man placed an arm in front of Y/n, making himself the barrier between Jacob’s advances and her safety.

Once Jacob caught his footing, revealing just how tipsy he was, he clumsily stalked back towards them. The second man stepped forward and effortlessly threw a punch to Jacob’s abdomen, knocking him off his feet and to the ground. The other patrons actually clapped and cheered at the knockout.

The man shielding Y/n and his friend grabbed Jacob’s arms and pulled him to his knees. Dane, the owner, came out from around the counter and marched towards the door. The men dragged Jacob through the bar, taking no care to his hands and feet as they knocked into chairs and tables. With Dane holding the door open, they threw him out, earning another round of cheers from the bar.

Y/n watched it all with a hand over her mouth. The whole thing had left her more anxious than she cared to admit.

Her two saviors made their way through the room, earning pats on the back from most of the patrons.

“Are you okay?” The man with the mustache asked when they reached her.

“Yeah,” Y/n answered, trying to hide how her hands was shaking, “Are you?”

“Not the worst we’ve seen,” the clean shaven guy smiled, flexing his bruised hand, “But I think you’re gonna have to take a shower to get that creep’s touch off ya.”

Y/n chortled, the feeling of his fingers digging into her skin hadn’t left yet. “I’m really sorry you had to step in,” she said earnestly, “I’m not great with following through on my smack talk.”

“Nah, you were holding your own,” the cheerier of the two men laughed.

“Hey, can I buy you guys a round?” Y/n asked, “It’s the least I can do.”

“There’s no need,” the quieter guy shook his head.

“No, I want to,” Y/n insisted, looking between the two of them.

The one who had done most of the talking so far was the first to relent. “Fine, but we’re spotting your next glass. Just to try and restore the ever-deteriorating reputation of men.”

Y/n laughed heartily for the first time of the night. She liked them.

“Hey, Dane,” the talkative man flagged down the bartender and turned to Y/n, “What’re you drinking?”

Y/n held up her dwindling glass of rosé.

“Another rosé for the rosebud,” the man finished, winking at Y/n in a way that felt more playful than flirtatious, “I’m Tommy, by the way.”

“Y/n,” she took his extended hand and shook it before turning to the other man.

“Joel,” he pressed his palm to hers.

Y/n smiled, her eyes lingering on the man as they shook hands. There was a peace to him that she already knew she liked.

Y/n ended up at Tommy and Joel’s table, each of them sipping a victory drink and talking up a storm. It was one of the easiest conversations any of them had ever had.

“So you just picked up one day and,” Tommy made a swooping gesture, “Came to Austin?”

Y/n shrugged, “Just needed a change.”

Tommy whistled, “That’s brave.”

“I mean, it’s Austin,” Y/n chuckled, “It’s not New York,” she took a sip of the free rosé, “What about you two?”

“Nah, we’ve been here forever,” Joel answered, holding his beer to his lips.

Tommy raised his bottle to his brother, “Can’t even get this fucker to take a vacation somewhere.”

“Workaholic or homebody?” Y/n asked.

Joel was inhaling to answer when Tommy spoke up, “Both.”

“Nothin’ wrong with working hard or staying home,” Joel replied, throwing back a swig.

“Nah,” Tommy replied, smirking, “Only when you do it.”

Joel glared out the sides of his eyes at his brother. Y/n laughed against the rim of her glass.

“Well,” Tommy leaned against the table, “If you ever need a tour guide, we’re at your disposal. We’ll show you the real grimy hole in the wall places. Best food or beer in the city are always in the places you’d least expect it.”

Contrary to Jacob’s thinly veiled advances, Y/n took Tommy and Joel for exactly how they presented themselves. They were funny, they were gentlemanly, and they were the first people in Austin she’d met who she felt truly comfortable around.

Joel, who was naturally more quiet than his brother, had never felt more lost for words. He was trying to keep himself in check considering the happenstance of their meeting, but all he wanted to do was look at Y/n. When she laughed, something inside his stomach twisted. When their eyes met, his chest tightened. There was something about being around this girl that felt very, very different than anyone else.

“Well,” Y/n checked her watch, catching the late hour, “I’ve got the morning shift tomorrow and I can’t be too hungover. Thank you both for the company and the wine,” she smiled at Joel, “It was a big improvement on how the night started.”

“Yeah, we’d better go too,” Joel announced, rising to his feet with Tommy, “Gotta get a head start tomorrow before the storm moves in.”

Tommy gestured to his big brother, smiling at Y/n, “What’d I tell you?”

“I gotta side with your brother here,” Y/n smiled, scrunching her face a little, “Everyone needs a break. That’s kinda what weekends are for”

“See?” Tommy said, “Maybe you’ll listen to her.”

Joel was on the verge of busting out in to a grin. “Not my problem if you two are lazy,” he shot back.

Y/n and Tommy each gaped with laughter. Joel smiled, he’d wanted to hear her laugh one more time before they parted.

“Well, you two have restored the name of ‘men’ quite admirably,” Y/n grabbed her purse, “Thank you for what you did, really. If you hadn’t stepped in, tonight would have ended much worse.”

Tommy shook his head, “Don’t mention it. Just learn how to throw a punch,” he slapped his hand against Joel’s shoulder, “And I think we’ll both sleep better at night.”

“I’ll get on that,” Y/n chuckled. She wasn’t sure if it was the kinship she felt or the rosé had simply relaxed her, but she reached over to Tommy and gave him a one-armed hug.

“See ya around, Rosebud,” Tommy said, keeping his hand respectfully high up on her shoulders.

“See ya,” Y/n replied, pulling back to look at Joel. She wasn’t sure what she expected to happen, only that she wanted to memorize his face before she left. “Goodnight,” she said with a small smile.

Joel tried to ignore how his heart was thudding in his chest. “‘Night,” he replied.

His eyes followed her all the way to the door, till she stepped out into the steamy evening air. He wasn’t sure why he had to urge to follow her.

“You,” Tommy gripped Joel’s shoulder a little tighter, “Are fucked.”

Joel rolled his eyes at his little brother’s laughter, “The hell’re you talking about?”

Tommy fell back down in his chair, a hand resting on his chest, “You were fuckin’ smitten with her.”

“‘Smitten?’” Joel cringed, taking his seat and his beer, “What’re you, 14?”

“Fine, hot for, taken with, enamored, mesmerized,” Tommy chuckled, “Whatever you wanna call it…you liked her.”

Joel shrugged and took another drink, “‘Course I liked her. You liked her too.”

“Not like you,” Tommy shook his head, still grinning, “I think she liked you too.”

Pushing down the way his stomach jumped when Tommy said that, he glanced over at the door again. He looked back to the table, checking to see if she’d left anything. Maybe she’d have to come back. What would he do if she did? Would he ask for her number? Or was that too forward? He didn’t want anything he did to remind her at all of the asshat they’d tossed out-

“She didn’t leave anything, dude.”

Tommy’s voice brought Joel out of his thoughts. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring at Y/n’s empty seat. There was no reason for her to come back.

“You’re fucked,” Tommy brought the conversation full circle, patting his brother’s shoulder and taking a drink.

Joel hid his disappointment, just like his infatuation; well, but not well enough. He looked down at his bottle, “Doesn’t matter. We’re not gonna see her again.”

Tommy shrugged, “Austin ain’t that big.”

Outside, Y/n was making the three minute walk down the street to her apartment complex. Her mind was no longer focused on the douche whose name she was already forgetting, all she could think of was how Joel smiled like he had a secret. How his laughter was reserved only for when he found something hilarious. How whether he was sitting beside his brother or punching out a handsy creep, he was completely relaxed. How his brown eyes were so warm, one gaze into them had given her goosebumps…

Y/n shook her head at herself, completely thrown for a loop. One encounter with one guy and she felt like there was some invisible string tugging harder with every inch of distance she put between herself and the bar. The chances of bumping into Tommy and Joel again in a city as big as Austin were slim. It was a reality she had to face. It was just one of those meetings that left you feeing like you’d experienced true magic. She was saddened at the thought of never sitting across from Joel again.

Into the night, with a total distance of seven minutes unbeknownst between them, Joel and Y/n each retired and prepared for their respective early mornings. Joel paid the neighbor who’d watched Sarah, Y/n called and checked in on her sister, who’d just had a baby. Joel kissed his daughter goodnight, Y/n finished up a load of laundry. They each changed into their pajamas, brushed their teeth, and turned out the lights. It was then, in the sweet space between sleep and consciousness that they let their minds drift back to each other….

—————————

2023, Boston

Of course it was raining. Rain made everything easier.

Joel, Tess, Y/n and Ellie trudged through the streets of what was once downtown Boston. Y/n kept a hand on Ellie’s back at all times, untrusting of both the people around them and the ones they were traveling with.

Even with the utter chaos they were in the middle of, Y/n’s mind was overtaken by the holes being burned into the back of her head. Joel’s stare was unfaltering. She wanted to turn around and scream at him, but that would garner the attention they were trying so hard not to attract. That was fine, she had more than enough anger and more than enough time to let him feel it.

Joel, whose every move was made with vigilante like precision, was struggling to keep his thoughts in order. The past was so easy to put behind you when you never had to look at it. Faced with the person who knew it all, had seen it all…the second he’d laid eyes on Y/n, it had all come flooding back. He had to get himself in check. Y/n’s unfiltered hatred was helping him there.

They made it to Joel and Tess’ apartment without any trouble, the four of them filing down the narrow hallway. Y/n pulled as far away from Joel as possible while they waited for Tess to unlock the door, which wasn’t very far. Once it was open, Joel impatiently waved for Ellie to enter, saving the same glare for Y/n. Ellie entered apprehensively, while Y/n knew enough to know that they were Joel and Tess’ leverage. Without them, they couldn’t get their battery. They were safe, for the time being.

“Give us a minute, all right?” Tess stated more than asked, heading back out to the hall.

“What the fu-“ Ellie started, the door silenced the last two letters.

Y/n put a finger to her lips, standing beside the door and listening to the other side of the door. Tess and Joel were discussing which route to take, something that infuriated her. There was only one child in their party, she refused to let Joel make her anything other than an equal.

She threw down her backpack and threw the door open. “If you two are planing on excluding me from the planning side of things, let me know now so I can strangle you both,” she said, smiling sweetly.

“You wanna tell us what we’re really doing with this kid?” Tess fired back.

“Not particularly,” Yn replied.

“Then you don’t get a voice here,” Tess looked to Joel, “We leave after dark. Stay with them.”

Joel took a step forward as his partner walked off, “Wait, why do I have to — Tess! Tess!”

Tess turned the corner of the hall without ever breaking stride.

Joel sighed loudly, eventually looking over to Y/n.

“She’s lovely,” Y/n snarked, earning a signature Miller scowl.

Joel nodded towards the door and Y/n slipped back inside, he kept an overly safe distance between them. Y/n unzipped her backpack and grabbed her first aid kit, sitting down at Joel’s table to tend to her bullet wound. Joel shrugged off his pack and threw himself on the couch. Ellie was splitting the distance between them, holding a large book in her hands.

“So,” the girl started, “Who’s Bill and Frank?”

Joel looked up confused, as if he couldn’t imagine how she could have possibly heard anything from the other side of the door.

“Oh, come on, Tool Time,” Y/n chortled, as she opened the bottle of disinfectant, “This whole place is paper thin.”

“The radio’s a smuggling code, right?” Ellie asked, “60s song, they don’t have anything new. 70s, they got new stuff. What’s 80’s?”

Joel got off the couch and ripped the book out of Ellie’s hands, throwing it to the side. He glanced over at Y/n, who was struggling to keep her grunts quiet as she cleaned her wound. A twinge of pain ran through his chest as she scrunched up her face, trying to keep her breaths steady. His fingers automatically twitched to help her, but it wouldn’t actually help anyone. Instead, he fought his instincts walked back to the couch and laid down.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked.

“Killin’ time,” Joel said, his drawl particularly noticeable.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out,” his eyes were already closed, just like the conversation.

Y/n began to use a q-tip to spread antiseptic cream over the wound, the cooling sensation dulling the pain.

Ellie took back the book and walked past Joel, “Your watch is broken.”

Four little words froze Y/n, hunched over the table with her supplies. She didn’t have to look to know that Joel’s eyes were open again. It was the second time today that they’d been perfectly in sync. The first was pulling their guns on one another and, to be honest, Y/n would have preferred to stare down the barrel of his pistol. Bullets were simple and easy to dodge, memories were more cunning and hurt significantly more.

Y/n finished dressing her wound, zipping the kit back up and throwing it in her backpack. She laid her jacket out to dry on the back of the chair and finally took a good look at her surroundings. She couldn’t have chosen a place more opposite to Joel’s 3-bed 3-bath in Austin. The floors creaked, the walls were stained, and the ceilings were uncomfortably low. Home was a fluid concept in the world they lived in, and the kind Y/n was thinking of was lost entirely.

“He’s fun,” Ellie grunted from her seat at the window.

Y/n scoffed, “You have no idea.”

If they’d be using the cover of night to travel, Y/n knew Joel had the right idea to sleep now. She pulled out a sweater from her backpack, bunched it up and set it on the ground across from the couch. Without any blankets, she made the call that a nearby rug would be the next best thing. She shook it out and placed it below the sweater.

“Try and get some sleep,” Y/n instructed Ellie, “You’re gonna need it.”

Ellie simply hummed and continued paging through the book. Y/n slipped under the dirty rug and sighed, she’d slept in worse places for much longer…

She took the moment of peace to finally take a good look at Joel. His eyebrows still furrowed as he slept, as if he was in a constant state of disapproval with the world. The rest of his face was softer, a strange contrast, but so very him. His chest rose and fell in a perfect rhythm. It was hard for Y/n not to remember how it felt to lay with her ear against his heart, lifting and lowering with him…

The QZ was small, and stories got around. Y/n had known for a while that Joel was in Boston. She’d also heard the stories of the things he’d done, the people he’d killed, and just how far he’d go to guarantee his survival. Despite not owing him anything, Y/n had refused to believe them. She adamantly denied the possibility that she could have ever loved a man capable of such hideous acts. The Cordecyps had changed them all in different ways, but she had to believe that Joel was still Joel…

—————��——————

“Hey.”

A mumble and a boot kick to the shoulder had Y/n startling awake. She rolled over to see Ellie, still sitting by the window with the book in her lap.

“How do you know him?”

Y/n squinted and sat up, her joints cracking as she stretched her limbs. The sky outside was pitch black, clearly she’d needed more sleep than she thought.

“He’s an…” she began to say, the complexity of the situation hitting her all over again. There was only one answer to give that wouldn’t invite any more questions. “I was friends with his brother a long time ago.”

Ellie’s seemed to accept it, “Where’re you from?”

“Texas.”

The girl’s eyes widened, “You lived in Texas?”

“Just for a little while,” Y/n replied, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes,

Ellie looked down at her hands and then out the window, “I’ve never been out that far.”

Y/n sighed, thinking about what it might be like to grow up never having known what the world used to be like. “You’re not missing much, kid,” she lied. She’d have gone back to Austin in a heartbeat, if it was at all possible.

“What’s ‘rosebud?’”

Y/n’s body went cold, as if she’d just been plunged into ice water, memories slamming into her like waves. A glass of rosé and belly laughter, a backyard game of football, soft lips whispering sweet nothings against her ear…

She looked over at Ellie calmly, “What?”

The girl nodded towards Joel, who was still peacefully sleeping. “He kept mumbling the word ‘rosebud,’” she replied, “Thought maybe it was a code word or something.”

It did serve as a codeword, containing secrets, laughter, and all the love that had once existed in Y/n’s world. Now the mere utterance cut her worse than any blade could.

“If it is,” Y/n got to her feet, not wanting to be anywhere near the word, “I don’t know what it means.”

Joel woke then, startling without any real physicality. He stared up at the ceiling, dazed from his dreams. No, nightmares. That’s what they were.

“You mumble in your sleep,” Ellie said, announcing her presence, “Something about ‘rosebud.’”

If that didn’t wake him up, nothing could. His eyes flitted across the room, looking for the woman who owned every inch of the word. When Joel couldn’t find her, he pushed up on one arm and found her sitting at his kitchen table with her back turned to him.

In his subconscious, he’d seen her as she used to be. Her eyes full of light, her smile like pure sunshine, laughter pouring out of her with a freedom so few people allowed themselves. He’d felt her soft skin against his, felt her lips pressed to his jawline, right between his neck and his ear. He’d known her for the first time in twenty years, only to wake up and find her ghost.

Joel swung his legs over the couch and rose, his knees and back aching. Getting older in a post-apocalyptic world felt extra cruel. He ventured over to the table, ready to test the waters and see just how bad of a time he was in for.

Y/n sighed in annoyance as Joel took the chair next to her. She needed distance she wasn’t going to get, from him and all that he reminded her of.

They sat in the most awkward silence either of them had ever known.

Joel was the first to break it, “You get some sleep?”

Y/n glared out the corner of her eyes at him, the first words he spoke to her after their confrontation and that was the first thing he said?

Joel’s chest tightened at her poisoned stare, he wasn’t going to get an answer. “Wound okay?”

“This whole thing’ll go a lot easier if you stop pretending to give a shit about me,” Y/n said quietly, the sharpness of her tone cutting through the volume, “We both know you don’t.”

The walls weren’t coming down. Joel knew that. He didn’t want them down. But after seeing her, full of energy and joy, he had to check and see if there was any bit of that woman left. His eyes scanned her skin, so many scars and scrapes where there had once been a smooth surface. Her hair was dry, streaks of oil laced like highlights through the strands. Her nails were chipped and caked with dirt underneath. But most noticeably, there were two prominent frown lines across her cheeks. That let Joel know that the woman he’d once loved was absolutely gone.

“What happened to Tommy?” Y/n asked. She couldn’t help herself, but she kept her tone frosty.

“Sent a message three weeks back,” Joel answered, his fist fidgeting against the table, “Haven’t heard anything.”

Y/n didn’t want to take any strolls with Joel down memory lane, but Tommy was…Tommy. She couldn’t deny that she still cared about him deeply. “Do you know where he is?”

“Wyoming,” Joel answered, looking past her eyes at the wall. He didn’t think he could handle speaking about his brother to her, of all people.

“Oh,” she said, “So you’re completely crazy now.”

That earned her a hardened gaze, as if Joel had anything else for her.

“I’ve never been on the other side of the Wall,” Ellie spoke up, “Look how dark it is.”

Y/n got up first, smoothing her tank top back down and leaning against the wall near the door. Joel followed, retaking his seat on the couch. They both pondered the same thing separately: how much life Ellie had missed out on just by being born in the wrong decade.

“You guys go out there a lot?” Ellie asked Joel.

“I guess,” he answered.

“When was the last time?”

“Maybe a year,” Joel quickly replied, he wasn’t enjoying all the questions, “What’s it matter?”

“But you know where to go,” Ellie clarified, looking too much like a kid, “So we’re gonna be okay.”

It was a fair question, and Joel couldn’t fault her for being scared. Fear was all she’d ever known.

“Yeah,” he answered, significantly softer than his last one.

Y/n’s eyes grazed the window, spotting the plastic butterfly that clung to the glass. After all these years, Joel had managed to keep it. It took all the self-discipline she had not to let her tears fall.

“So what’s the deal with you anyway,” Joel asked Ellie, “You some kind of bigwig’s daughter or somethin’?”

Both Ellie and Y/n knowingly smirked to themselves. “Something like that,” Ellie replied, “Oh, the radio came on while you were sleeping.”

“What?” Joel snapped to attention, leaning forward, “What was the song?

“He kept sayin’ like, “wake me up before you go-go?” Ellie answered, making Y/n and Joel feel much much older.

Joel knew what that meant, and it was nothing good. “Shit,” he whispered to himself.

Ellie’s smirk spread across her face, “Gotcha. 80’s means trouble. Code broken.”

Joel got to his feet, having used his patience up earlier in the day. “Listen-“

Y/n was between him and Ellie in a flash, sticking out a hand towards Joel. She was off limits, even for a light scolding. Luckily, the door opened up before anything could be said. Tess had returned.

“The spot under Lancaster looks good,” she reported, turning to Ellie after, “You got a jacket in your pack?”

“Yeah,” Ellie responded.

“Okay, get it. It’s time to go.”

Y/n stuffed her sweater back in backpack and went to retrieve her now-dry jacket. It had been a long time since she’d gone outside of the QZ, she couldn’t decide whether she was terrified or happy to step outside the fence.

Joel on the other hand felt like he couldn’t move. Between the fear over his brother’s safety, being close to Y/n once again and the daunting task ahead of them, he wanted to pause it all for a moment. Tess throwing his jacket at him was a good reminder that he didn’t get to take minutes.

As Y/n went to the window to check Ellie, her eye caught the butterfly in the window again. Much like ‘Rosebud,’ there was another name that she never said. She could practically see it weaved into the fine details of the creature, the bright blue against the dark black. When Joel’s back was turned. Y/n pulled the cling off the window and shoved it in her backpack. If they were going to do this, she needed to feel strong enough to do it. She’d give it back to Joel and face his wrath when the deed was done.

The four of them made it out and into the underground tunnels, landing in a lesser frequented area of the QZ. Joel climbed out first and scanned their surroundings, helping to pull Ellie out after. Y/n came through next, though Joel knew better than the extend his hand to her, and finally, Tess.

“Holy shit,” Ellie remarked, spinning around to take it all in, “I’m actually outside.”

Not half a second later, a helicopter made its round over them, searchlights shining off it. Tess pulled Ellie in and crouched behind a large piece of debris.

“Okay, we’re gonna take the left edge around the buffer zone,” Tess explained, “You stay close and you follow my lead.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Ellie nodded in understanding, glancing over to Y/n as if to get approval. Y/n nodded back, placing momentary trust that Tess would protect the girl.

“Same goes for you,” Joel said from beside her, his voice low.

Y/n glared over her shoulder, “I really don’t think you want me where you can’t see me.”

“Let’s go,” Tess ordered.

The four of them crawled under an abandoned school bus with Joel bringing up the rear. Walking while crouched was hard, but they managed their best and paused behind a car when a FEDRA patrol vehicle passed by. Once it was clear, they made their way through a rusted, metal pipe, stopping when the chopper passed over them again. Y/n caught a peek at Ellie’s face as the light shone on them, she looked terrified. Through her own nerves, Y/n reached over and took Ellie’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Joel watched the whole thing, if he wanted a glimpse of the woman he’d once known, he’d gotten it. Her heart was still there.

Their team hurried out of the pipe, rushing to hide behind another big piece of debris. A storm was starting, the lightning acting as temporary lighting for their path. Joel was leading the way when their presence was detected.

“Hey,” a FEDRA soldier shouted, “Hey! Don’t, don’t, don’t move.”

Joel hurriedly looked around for more, pushing Ellie behind him. He held his hands up in surrender, along with Y/n, Ellie and Tess. If they wanted to get out of this, they needed to play along.

The FEDRA soldier opened the visor of his helmet, getting a look at Joel. “You gotta be shittin’ me…”

“Okay, let’s talk this out,” Joel said calmly.

“Turn around,” the soldier ignored him.

“Hold on-“

“Get on your fuckin’ knees,” the soldier yelled, “Get on your fuckin’ knees!”

Joel wasn’t giving up, “Now, hold on-“

“What did I fuckin’ tell you, man? I said stay the fuck home,” he pointed to the ground, “Get on your knees!”

Y/n knew if he fought any harder, he was going to get them all killed. Taking matters into her own hands, she dropped. “Ellie,” she said calmly, “Get down.”

“Just get on your knees,” Tess said to Joel, “Just get on your knees.”

Joel listened and kneeled between Ellie and Tess, turning his back to the soldier. Ellie finally followed Yn’s directions and got down next to Y/n.

“Listen, you let us do this run,” Tess bargained, “We’ll split the cards with you.”

The soldier wasn’t having it, “Oh, will you?”

Y/n’s breaths quickened, knowing their chances of escape were slim. There had to be something to do. If she gave herself up, would he let Tess and Joel leave with Ellie? She didn’t particularly feel like dying, but Ellie was too important to compromise. They could get her the rest of the way.

“Hands on your head, eyes forward,” the soldier instructed. It was the eyes forward bit that bothered Joel the most. They wanted to control what they couldn’t even see.

“Hands on your head,” the soldier screamed, startling them all into doing it. He came up behind Tess, holding a device to her neck. Checking to see if they were infected.

Y/n’s heart stopped in her chest. Shit.

“Really, man?” Tess complained.

The soldier was undeterred, “Yep, we’re doin’ this by the book.”

Ellie nudged Y/n with her boot, signaling she knew what was coming. Y/n wasn’t sure how to offer her any assurance that they’d be okay.

“Unauthorized exit,” the soldier reported, “They’ll hang you for that.”

“Fine,” Joel tried again, “Everythin’ off this run and half off of all the pills.”

Their voices faded in Y/n’s ears. If she could move quick enough, she could spin around and shoot the soldier before he knew what was happening. It would give Tess and Joel a few seconds to get away.

Before Y/n could make a decision, Ellie stole her move and stabbed the soldier in the leg.

“Ellie!” Y/n and Tess cried in unison.

The soldier was momentarily dazed, stumbling backwards and trying to figure out where the injury was. Y/n took the opportunity to shove Ellie behind her. Joel did the same, jumping to his feet and standing in front of Y/n. It was pure instinct.

“Get out of the fuckin’ way,” the soldier yelled, aiming his gun past the adults.

Joel could talk his way out of a lot, but this looked grim. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

“We can fix this,” he tried, holding up his hands as a barrier between them and the soldier.

The soldier was done listening to their pathetic attempts. “Move.”

Joel didn’t budge.

“Move.”

Y/n had been on the recieving end of a lot of guns, held by people who thought that God had abandoned the post-apocalyptic warland and it was their job to fill His seat. But the military regulated weaponry, the uniform, the expressionless face that wouldn’t fill with guilt the moment its body pulled the trigger.

It transported her back twenty years.

And she knew Joel was there with her.

He surged forward, letting out a gutteral cry as he tackled the soldier to the ground. He climbed atop him, pinning him, and began to throw one merciless punch after the other. The crunching of bone and squishing of flesh formed an awful, perfect, rhythm.

While Ellie watched and felt something awaken within her, Y/n felt something die. She watched the man she’d known in her past life as loving and tender become a necessary monster. People thought mourning was only for those who left the earth, but there were plenty of dead souls still breathing. If there was any debate as to whether or not her version of Joel Miller was truly gone, the proof was now and forever burned into Y/n’s mind. Someone else now inhabited in his body.

When the job was done, Joel sat heaving over the man’s body, looking down at his bloody and bruised fist. It was the closest he could ever come to avenging her. When he looked up, his eyes first fell on Ellie, who didn’t seem to mind the violence at all. It seemed she actually liked it.

Y/n’s eyes told a different story.

A well-timed lightning strike lit her up, and Joel saw tears pooling below her y/e/c pupils. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, anxiety mixing with terror. Joel knew exactly what she was thinking about him and for a singular second, he felt guilt. He felt guilt for causing her pain, for forcing her to see him as anything other than the man she’d known.

It passed as quick as it came. It had to.

Tess grabbed the dropped scanner and read the bright red screen. Y/n hurried back to the present pulled Ellie by her jacket away from Tess.

“No, no,” Ellie yelled, “No, I’m not sick!”

“Joel,” Tess called, beginning to panic.

“She’s not sick,” Y/n backed Ellie up, “She’s clean!”

“Joel,” Tess yelled again, putting space between Y/n and her.

Ellie pulled her jacket sleeve up to reveal her arm, “Look! Look! This is three weeks old! Nobody lasts more than a day! Does this look a day old to you?”

Tess examined the bite site, it looked more like a bad scar than an infectious wound.

“You would have fuckin’ killed me!” Ellie said in horror.

“I should fucking kill you,” Tess bit back, looking up at Y/n, “What the hell’s Marlene trying to pull?!”

“It’s true,” Y/n said, keeping one hand over her pistol in case Tess didn’t listen, “She’s clean.”

She looked past Tess’ shoulder and over to Joel, who was still watching her. It was a long shot to get him of all people to listen to her, but now, she was happy to bank on their history in hopes that he’d believe her.

“I swear it,” Y/n held a hand up, her eyes digging into Joel’s, begging for him to not raise his gun.

Joel stopped short at Y/n’s vulnerability, he was shaken in every direction just from the last thirty seconds. He felt his will to argue with her slipping away.

“They’re gonna catch us if we don’t run,” Ellie stated, she wasn’t wrong. They could argue elsewhere and keep their lives.

“Joel, we gotta move,” Tess called, interrupting the stare-off between Y/n and him, “We gotta move, Joel.”

Ellie and Tess were already making their way to the fence, but Y/n and Joel stayed a second longer. Neither one had much credibility with the other, not after the last time they’d been together. But at the moment, Joel had two choices. He could either die at FEDRA’s hands, or he could follow the woman he’d once trusted most in the world and believe her one more time.

He chose the latter, though he was far from believing.

Joel picked up the soldier’s rifle and gestured for Y/n to move, the two of them ran after Tess and Ellie, who were already slipping through a hole in the chained fence. Y/n pushed through it, coming to stand on the other side of the QZ’s limits and pausing for Joel. She knew he trusted her as far as he could throw her and she wasn’t totally confidant in turning her back to him. She waited till he came through and the two of them ran after Tess and Ellie, into the night and into the unknown…

————————

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Joel Miller Taglist: @xsnak-3x @xmoonknightlyx

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #twenty years later

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joonsmagicshop · 4 months

Text

Stress Relief Series - PJM

Summary: A week ago Taehyung asked a favour. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. First one up is none other than Park Jimin

Paring: Jimin/Reader

Word Count: 4K

Tags: Smut, handjobs, blowjobs, sex, dirty talk, Reader takes control, This is just soft smut

Authors Note: This is part two of the Stress Relief Series (Part 1 here) If you missed it, a new chapter with a new BTS member will be posted at the end of each month. More info at the end of part 1. Thank you so much for reading!

This was a punishment from the universe. You were sure of it

You were being punished for all the times you weren't patient.

When the line for coffee was too long you would sigh and roll your eyes.

When you got stuck behind an old person who took forever to count their change for groceries and you shifted foot to foot and cursed yourself for always picking the slow line.

When you were a kid and you just couldn't help yourself, you snuck into your parent's closet to take a peek at your Christmas gifts early because you just couldn't wait

They say patience is a virtue

You feel like that's a load of garbage.

It had been almost a week since Taehyung had asked you for a favor

Well not a favor for him but for his bandmates, his words still ringing loud in your ears and making you flush

if you would be willing…to share the wealth. Help my bandmates with their tension. Let them fuck you.”

You agreed in haste because how were you supposed to say no to that?

However it had been radio silence since, and you were more than frustrated...and impatient.

The only sign you got that the whole thing was a go was the fact the next day Taehyung sent you a text with a thumbs-up emoji and a winky face.

You let your imagination run wild after that text and almost spilled coffee down your shirt when you forgot the cup was even in your hand.

However, the excitement started to wear off when you realized the days started to fly by and no one was texting you.

You almost texted Tae to ask him what was up, but worried you would come off too desperate.

So you did what you had to do, you busied yourself with work and friends and chores to keep your mind off the whole thing. You kept your hands off your phone as much as possible and tried not to dive for it every time it vibrated.

The week finally came to an end and you felt a sigh of relief as you turned off your computer for the weekend and grabbed your coat.

You waved goodbye to some of your coworkers as you left the building and smiled at the soft rain that was coming down.

The drive back home was short but silent. You decided to listen to the falling rain instead of the radio as you took in the slightly foggy city around you.

As you pulled into your parking spot at your apartment you gathered your things and braced for the rain. It was a mild soft rain that covered everything but made the world look cozy and beautiful. This was exactly what you needed after a long week at work and you were fully prepared to take advantage of the cozy weather.

You unlocked your door and shucked off your coat placing it on the hook and dropping your purse on your small kitchen table.

You let your hair out of its pins and sighed as you rubbed your scalp.

You patted over to the bathroom to take a shower. The kind of shower where you use the most expensive products and really take your time and enjoy it. You shaved everything and even used a very expensive moisturizer you only use on special occasions as you slipped on gray sweatpants and an oversized white tee shirt.

You clipped your wet hair up and out of your face as you made your way back to the kitchen, fishing your phone from your discarded purse to order some food.

However, you stopped dead in your tracks, thumb hovering over the unlock button as your other hand came up to cover your mouth as you let out a tiny scream

An unknown number had texted you while you were in the shower, asking for you specifically by name.

Your heart rate sped up as you confirmed it was you and you paced the kitchen waiting for an answer, dinner be damned you weren't hungry anymore.

The unknown number wanted to prove it was actually you.

Which was fair

You sent back your full address including the apartment number and the special knock Tae did whenever he came over.

Two loud knocks followed by three soft ones.

Something you both had made up after you had sex for the third time.

You waited with bated breath. Your body nearly shaking with nerves as the text bubbles kept coming up and disappearing.

Maybe the person changed their mind

Maybe it was a scam

A trap

Maybe

You put your phone down and began to frantically clean.

Tae had assured you time and time again he didn't care what your apartment looked like he just cared about what he was there for but this was Jimin, this was someone new and you wanted to make a good first impression.

You were like a hurricane going from room to room and desperately trying to make it look presentable.

By the time you made it to your bedroom, you shucked off your gray sweats and put on tight black leggings instead. You had decided to keep the white tee shirt and you tried your best to style your still damp hair into something presentable.

You didn't have time though

The two loud knocks followed by three soft ones had your heart hammering in your chest and your body froze.

You clipped your hair back up and raced to the door. Trying to go fast but keep your footsteps light so Jimin doesn't hear you.

You took a deep breath before throwing open the door.

And he slipped inside.

Jimin was taller than you, his light brown hair hidden under a black beanie but his fringe was sticking out. He wore black jeans and a large black sweater and was smiling down at you shyly.

“Hi.” You spoke, grateful your voice didn't give away how nervous you were.

You had seen pictures of Jimin, you knew who he was but you had to admit he was even more beautiful in person.

“Hi.” He repeated with another shy smile as you could already see the blush tinging his cheeks.

“Do you want to....come sit down and we can....talk?” You asked as he nodded and removed the beanie from his head, shaking out his hair and following you through your apartment.

You both settled on the couch. You sat cross-legged while Jimin sat with his feet planted firm on the ground. You made sure you sat close enough to press your knee into his thigh.

“I-uh. I'm not going to lie. I'm super nervous right now.” Jimin said softly. His eyes not meeting yours, instead choosing to focus on the rug that was under your coffee table.

“It's okay. We don't have to do anything you don't want to.” You offer with a small smile as he finally breaks his staring contest with the rug to look at you.

“I just...I don't do this. Hook up with people I don't know. Like ever?” He said as you both lapse into silence, the only noise is the hum of the fridge and the rain which is starting to pick up force outside.

“That's okay. No judgment here. I want you to feel good and have a good time.” You said, slowly bringing your hand up to rest on his knee.

With Tae everything was instant. There was never an awkward figure-it-out phase it was like your bodies were meant to be together. With Jimin being so nervous you felt out of your depth and did the only thing you could think of to get things moving.

You took control.

You slowly uncrossed your legs and stood up. Jimin looked up at you through thick lashes as you very slowly climbed on the couch, straddling his thighs. Going slow and steady as if not to spook him.

His hands were drawn to you like a magnet and they settled on your hips as you hummed appreciatively at him.

“This okay?” You asked as you kept your distance, not trying to sit directly on his lap instead placing yourself more on his knees.

He bit his lip and nodded and you smiled down at him.

“Jimin, baby. Tell me what you want.” You purr putting your hands on his shoulders and giving him time to decide.

“I-I want whatever you and Tae do.” He mutters out looking up at you.

You bite back a smile.

“Jimin what Tae and I have...and do.... is completely different from this. He's...well. Tae. This isn't about him and me this is about you and me. I don't think you want what Tae and I do because Tae is very dominant and...takes charge. Not to say you aren't like that but I think you just want to be taken care of don't you.” You coo at him as you run a hand through his soft hair.

Jimin's eyes flutter closed as your skilled hands run through his hair scratching his scalp as you go

You let him enjoy the massage before you continued to speak.

“If I'm wrong tell me. But from what I can tell you just want to be taken care of. Even this massage has you giving up control. Tell me, baby. Is that what you want? Me to do all the work and you sit back and enjoy?” You ask as his eyes flutter open.

His teeth catch his lower lip as he nods up at you.

The picture of innocence

And so damn cute.

“Words please Jimin.” You demand.

“Yes. Please. I-Is that okay with you? I know you're probably expecting-”

You shush him before he can continue.

“Jimin honestly I'm not expecting anything. I know what I signed up for when Taehyung asked me if I would be willing to fuck his bandmates. Whatever you need that's what I'm here for.” You say as your hands now play with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Tae said you were good I just- fuck- he better know how lucky he is,” Jimin whispers as you full-out grin.

“Hmm, you might need to remind him.”

Jimin giggles at that.

“So, how do you want this? Soft and sweet, or taken care of a little more roughly?” You ask as you finally take your chance and inch your body forward so you are resting more on his cock, which you are happy to find is already half-hard.

“Soft and sweet please.” Jimin wines out.

“Of course baby. Can I kiss you?” You ask with a tilt of your head and a bat of your lashes.

He nods very enthusiastically and you keep your hands playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck as you lean forward and capture his lips in a soft and slow kiss.

His hands come to circle your waist as your lips touch. His lips are soft and warm against yours and you can taste the faint hint of the chapstick he used before he came.

The kiss is slow and sweet. Jimin keeps his hands respectfully on your waist as you push yourself into him and deepen the kiss some more.

You want him to touch you, need him to touch you, so you pull away and put your hands on his shoulders. Jimin looked up and you, dazed and you smiled down at him.

“Was it not good?” He asks voice small and you shake your head.

“Jimin it was real good. You're a good kisser. But you know you can touch me right?”

He blushes deeply and before you let him get in his head too much you lean forward and kiss him again. This time with more heat as you move your lips against his feverishly and once again run your hands through his hair.

Jimin takes note and slides his hand up the back of your shirt which has goosebumps popping up on your skin as his fingers lightly skim your spine.

He is just as good with his hands as he is with his mouth as you open your mouth slightly and his tongue makes its way inside.

Your tongues rub against each other and you whine into his mouth which only spurs him on as he pushes harder into you and you can feel his cock start to fully harden and strain against his too-tight jeans.

Your hands are roaming his body as you grind into him. The noises and whines he is making against your mouth are some of the sweetest sounds you have heard and you grind down harder to make more noises come from his plush lips.

His hands are tight on your back keeping your body pushed against his as all the awkwardness from before dissolves into loud and wet kisses as you both explore each other.

You waste no time as you pull away and Jimin whines. You grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, taking your time to admire his lean dancer's body.

You lean your head down and begin to kiss and suck on his skin. Starting with his neck and moving down to his collarbones.

Jimin's cock is hard and hot pressing against you and you grind down on it which has a high whine leaving his mouth.

You place sloppy kisses against his pale skin and as you move your body back to be able to reach more of him, Jimin protests above you.

“Feels so good when you press into me.” He mutters which has you smiling against his warm skin and you slide off the couch and get on your knees.

You look up at him eyebrows raised and lucky for you Jimin gets the hint.

He stands up and slowly shimmy his jeans down to reveal tight black boxers. You can see his cock hard and straining against the material and it makes your mouth water at how good his bulge looks.

He pauses his movement and you sense some shyness as you slowly bring your hands down to take off your shirt and bra, his jaw-dropping as he eyes you hungrily.

“Didn't want you to be the only one naked.” You tease as you bring your hand up his muscular thighs and tease at the waistband of his boxers, thumbs flicking over his hipbones.

Jimin gives you a nod, a silent go-ahead, as you hook your fingers in and drag them down slowly.

His cock jumps against his stomach and you try not to stare. He is hard and slightly curved but just like the rest of him, beautiful.

The tip is red, and leaking beads of precum which are sliding down the shaft.

Before you even have a chance to think your body reacts and you lean forward to lick at the beads which has a broken moan falling from his lips and his hands resting on your shoulders.

You sigh as the taste hits your tongue and you lick him up and down, coating his hot skin in your saliva.

His body shudders above you and you take one hand to pull at the clip that was keeping your hair up, letting it fall and fan over your face.

You pull back and wrap a hand around his cock and look up at him.

“Thought you'd like something to hold on to while I suck you off.” You purr with a wink as Jimin quickly holds your hair back as you swallow him down.

His cock fits perfectly in your mouth as you lick and suck at the tip and use your hand to jerk him off. The glide was easy with all the saliva you used earlier and you flicked your tongue to tease the crown of his cock as you could hear his broken moans and sobs above you.

You pulled off and took a breath before diving right in, this time taking his cock as far as you could and opening your throat wide.

“I-fuck-Shit-Fuck-I-god feel so good.” Jimin babbled above you as you worked him.

You kept yourself deep throating him as long as possible swallowing around his cock as he cried and whined out, his hands tightening in your hair which had your own core throbbing.

This was about him though, so you tried your best to rub your legs together to ease some of the ache as you pulled back and came up for air. Your eyes were starting to tear and you were sure you had drool all over your mouth as you looked up at Jimin.

Who looked absolutely a wreck.

You winked at him and dove back in, this time focusing more on the head of his cock which was steadily leaking precum as you worked him with one hand and fondled his balls with the other.

You found out quickly that Jimin liked it when you played with his balls as his noises got louder and his breathing got more erratic as you played with them.

“I-fuck Y/N I'm gonna cum. You gotta-gotta stop.” Jimin panted above you as you pulled off his cock and gave him one more lick from base to tip, he groaned above you, eyes fluttering closed trying to stave off cumming on your face.

“Fuck you are too good at that.” He says shakily as you rise to your feet and drag your leggings and panties down.

“Thank you.” You beam at him which causes him to shake his head and laugh.

“Your cock sucking skills... Your body... And all of you?! Taehyung is an asshole for keeping you all to himself. It's just not fair.” Jimin complained as you grinned and slowly climbed on top of him again. This time you sit right on his cock letting your juices coat him.

“I know I said I'd take care of you and I mean it. Want me to ride you?” You ask as you open the small table that is next to the couch and retrieve a condom.

Jimin doesn't say anything as you stare at him.

“Or we could do another position...?” You ask timid as he shakes his head with as smile on his face.

“I think I'm imagining this. I don't think your real. How are you so real? And so wonderful?” He asks in awe as you smile bashfully and you tear open the condom package and roll the condom down his still-hard length.

“As I said before. I'm here for whatever you need.” You respond as you hover over his aching length.

“Wait! Shouldn't I prep you?” He asks with concern in his voice.

You stare into his kind eyes with a naughty grin on your face.

“Isn't it better to have your cock stretch me out?” You reply as you sink down on him and let his cock fill you up.

He felt good inside you. Your walls accommodate him still with that slight stretch which has you wincing.

You lean into Jimin's chest as you wait for the discomfort to subside. His hands are tracing small circles on your back as he whispers how good you are in your ear.

You place soft kisses on his shoulder as you slowly move your hips back and forth trying to ease the burn and the need which is bubbling up inside you quickly.

Once everything felt okay you began to slowly rock yourself against him. Holding his shoulders steady so you could do all the work and he could just enjoy it.

Soft moans leave his lips as you ride him, picking up the pace with each thrust as you kiss him once again.

This time the kiss is more hungry and needy as he bites at your lips and you whine against his mouth. His hands are gone from your back and are tangled into your hair as you moan against him and pick up the pace.

You are grinding against his lap at a feverish pace and you feel yourself start to come undone. Your body is a live wire and all the pressure is building up as you lean forward and ride him, letting his cock hit that spot inside of you that has you moaning and chanting his name.

“Jimin-Please-f-fuck-close.” You grit out as his hands come to your hips and he helps you bounce up and down on his cock.

You are a flurry of kisses and moans as you both chase your high. You can feel Jimin's cock twitch inside of you and you know he is close.

You bite at his lip and he shudders under you.

“Jimin cum-please-cum inside-fuck” You beg, erratic as he finally lets go and throws his head back as he cums inside you.

His cock is pulsing and filling up the condom and in the orgasm frenzy his fingers reach down to thumb at your clit and you are done for.

Your walls clamp around his cock as you bury your face in his shoulder and cum around him. Tingles spread from your core all the way to your fingers and toes as you ride out your high, pressing soft kisses to his sweaty skin as you both come down.

You lay against him for what feels like ages. The rain is now smacking hard against the window as you both let your breathing even out.

His cock is softening inside you but you are in no rush to have him pull out as you snuggle into his warm chest, his arms wrap around you and he kisses the top of your hair and praises you.

You finally push yourself up and let his soft cock slide out of you. Your body feels like jelly as you plop down on the couch beside him and gather your tee shirt.

“That was amazing. Holy shit.” Jimin whispers as you throw your tee shirt over your head and grin at him

“Happy to help.” You tease as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair and gathers his things from the floor.

You lay on the couch and watch as he gets himself dressed and hastily fixes his hair looking just as beautiful as ever, if not a little calmer, or maybe that's just the post-orgasmic bliss.

“Where's your bathroom? I'm going to run you a bath.” Jimin asks turning to you as you look up at him still dazed from your orgasm.

“Jimin it's all good. You really don't have to.” You say suddenly feeling shy at his care.

“What do you mean? Taehyung told us...all of us after we're done we have to take care of you. Run you a bath and order you food. He said it was part of the deal?” Jimin answers looking confused.

You smile and shake your head.

That Kim Taehyung. Such a gentleman.

“He didn't tell me that but sounds good. On one condition. You eat with me?”

Jimin nods with a cheeky grin and reaches a hand out to you helping you off the couch and supporting you all the way to the bathroom as you both decide on what to eat.

#Park Jimin #Jimin #Jimin fic #Jiminxreader #Jimin/reader #bts fic #bts #bts smut #jimin smut

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deathbecomesthem · 5 months

Text

Roomies 6

Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader | 1.7K

A/N: a short chapter to get me back into the story. This is likely the penultimate chapter.

---

“Why are you crying?” His question is whispered into your hair, hoarse and full of sleep. His arms wrap around your shoulders when you freeze. You thought he was still sound asleep, but he’s been somewhere in-between for most of the night.

“I’m so stupid.” You gasp out the words between sobs, no point in hiding yourself now. He’s seen this plenty of times before. You’ve seen his own face streaked with tears more than once. “I’m an idiot.”

“Hmm,” Eddie pats your back gently in a condescending way and says, “well, you’re my idiot, and I’m yours. So what?” Neither of you laugh at his joke, it just hangs in the air. But he keeps his arms around you, and he lets you cry. He does not hush you, he simply holds you firmly in his arms and lets his cotton shirt catch the tears that fall from your eyes.

He doesn’t let go of you when the tears stop. For a while, you’re both frozen in that embrace, afraid to move. Afraid to do anything other than stay still and be in each other's arms. There’s no easy snuggling, no soft sighs and adjustments to get cozy with one another. Just an unnaturally still embrace that feels more unnatural by the second, until you can’t stand it for another moment and sit upright in your bed, untangling yourself from Eddie’s arms.

“I, uh, I’m gonna get up. I told Ronnie I’d make a big breakfast this morning. Biscuits and gravy with homefries.” You can’t look at Eddie, so you turn your head and look at the glass of water on your night stand.

“Ok, I’ll help peel the potatoes.” Eddie’s pushing his way down the mattress awkwardly, he’s on the side of the bed that’s pushed up against the wall. He stands, heads for the door, and then turns back around. His arms are holding his center in a self soothing way when he says, “when Ronnie leaves, I think we should talk. Just -” he looks at you and sees that you’re not meeting his eyes. He tilts his body to catch your gaze, “- let’s enjoy her while she’s here, and have a good time, yeah?”

You nod, and realize in doing so that you do agree. Whatever is going on, or not going on, will be there when the weekend is over. You can fake it til you make it. You can push aside these newer feelings and let yourself be present. You’ll get out of your head.

Enjoy your best friends. Get out of your head. These thoughts are swirling around in your head as you make your way down the hallway and to the kitchen. And you really mean them. You really do. When you catch sight of Eddie over the stove top, hair pulled into a low ponytail and wearing your apron, your stomach drops to the bottom of your feet.

Be strong, you absolute idiot.

—

The days with Ronnie go too fast. They always do. Just having her there in your apartment, your new apartment that you share with your shared best friend, makes everything feel right. You wish she could stay forever. Curling up in bed with her at night reminds you of being a kid, whispering and giggling into the night. Waking up with her curled up at your side. You even find yourself looking at Eddie with your younger eyes, and it is a relief to reaffirm those feelings of friendship that are at the heart of whatever is happening between the two of you.

Too fast, and you try to reach out and grab hold of the memories before they drift away. The last night she’s with the two of you, it’s movie night. A far cry from the last one you shared with Eddie, this movie night is about viewing an old favorite.

“Hold still, Edward,” Ronnie grips the top of Eddie’s head. He’s on the floor in front of the two of you. Ronnie’s got a comb stuck in his wild curls, and a spray bottle full of a mixture of water and leave in conditioner. “You said we could fix your hair. Quit being a baby.”

“I didn’t know what I was agreeing to, Jesus Christ. It huuuurrttsss.” Eddie is squirming again, emphasizing the whine in his voice. David Bowie struts across the screen in his skin tight leggings, and you let out a wolf whistle.

“Ah, there he is. Pretty man!” You’re high on Eddie’s supply, the best way to view The Labyrinth. Your fingers are absentmindedly combing through the side of Eddie’s head that’s allotted to you. You’re supposed to be giving him braids, a tradition carried over from your teenage years.

Eddie snorts at your exclamation, and Ronnie yanks the comb down through his hair again, “Oww. Ok! I need a break.” Eddie crawls over to the VCR and hits the pause button. “I’m getting a beer. Anyone want anything?”

Two arms shoot up, one of yours and one of Ronnie’s. You turn to look at the television and see David Bowie frozen on the screen, his nose is scrunched and his hands look like he’s pointing out his impressive package. You start to giggle and point, triggering Ronnie’s giggling.

“You two are absolute children.” Eddie hands you both a bottle of beer before hitting play and settling back in his spot on the floor. “You can commence playing with my hair, but please remember I have a sensitive head.”

You giggle again, and knock on his forehead hard enough to make a sound. “You’re pretty hard headed, Ed. I think you’ll survive this.”

He swats your hand away, and turns to scowl. It reminds you of him at 17, and you resist the urge to cup his cheek in the palm of your hand. Your sweet Eddie. Instead, you raise your hands in surrender and take care when you run the comb through his hair. He goes quiet as the familiar scenes play out on the screen in front of the three of you. You can see that the beer, the weed, and the hands in his hair have him feeling very good. Your heart is full at the sight.

“I think you should wear braids more often, Edward. It really suits you.” Ronnie is holding two thick plaits in her hand.

“Maybe I will.” He says, resting his head against yours and Ronnie’s knees. You find that it’s not strange at all, to run your toes against his side. It’s not strange that his hand is wrapped around your ankle, a thumb running along the bare skin.

This is when things change again, like that first movie night, only in a more subtle way. The door is open now, and touches become familiar again. The days with Ronnie are full of joy, and they remind you of who you are. Of who Eddie is. Of what you really mean to one another. He’s not just another potential boyfriend, he’s a great love. You need to decide if there’s room for more than that platonic affection without the entire foundation collapsing, leaving you both without a home.

—

The days following Ronnie’s departure are subdued. Routine takes over yet again, and you find yourself feeling empty. There is no rush of exhilaration when you think about running into your half naked roommate in the hallway, only an ache sits in your chest at the thought. You think about the way he sounded that night, both of you chasing after pleasure with only the thin wall separating the two of you, and yet neither of you ran to each other. That means something? Or nothing. Or everything?

Anxiety and fear takes over when you sit next to him on the couch, curled up into his chest. What was once easy comfort, and then playful flirting, has become something you need and dread. You know why. You know it’s because your need is greater than what he’s offering. You want him, and not just in your bed to satisfy a physical hunger - you want to tell him everything. To explain the way his dimpled cheeks break your heart. To kiss his eyelids and feel that soft skin and the flutter of his eyelashes. You want to trace the black lines that dance across his pale skin.

So, you do what feels right. You pack a bag, and scribble a note. You call your sister. You cannot understand these things with Eddie right in front of you, his scent in your nose and fingers on your skin.

Dear Eddie,

I love you forever, my sweet friend. I need you to know and understand that. This is my home, and I will be forever grateful for all the things you’ve done for me. I’m spending a few nights at Jamie’s place. I need to clear my head about some things, and I think you need to do the same. I don’t know how I feel, apart from knowing that you’re too important for me to make any stupid decisions based solely on how physically attracted I am to you right now. We mean more to each other than that.

Friday night? Dinner? You know where to find me in case of emergency.

You stare at the note in your hand. You set it on the kitchen table and pick it up again for the third time. The idea that you’ve both passed the point of no return with this thing sends a wave of nerves that flips your stomach. You sigh, kiss the paper as if leaving a mark for his hands to find when he holds it after work this evening, and set it down for the last time.

You know you’re in love with him now, and you know that the time away will not change those feelings. You only hope that the space will make it easier to say it to his face, or accept the new dynamic between the two of you. An awkward and unfamiliar place that used to be your home.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson

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justalildumpling · 7 months

Text

chapter 17: waiting for you

wc: 1.4k

Jeno didn’t vibe with chaos.

Unlike the unpredictable nature of his friends, he preferred the calm weekends in his dorm, the ones where it smelled like cheap Chinese takeout accompanied by his new favourite movie of the week displayed on the TV screen or maybe the ones where it just feels like the soft cotton of his blanket, eyes fixated on a particular spot of his ceiling.

He didn’t mind the “boring” lifestyle (as his friends had labelled it) that he had placed upon himself. For him ‘boring’ meant comfort, security and predictability. No throwing up in the toilet bowl at three a.m., no expensive repairs of drunkenly damaged property or wild goose chases on a random Friday night.

Shuffling past the seemingly never-ending wave of sweaty bodies, Jeno found himself scoffing at his position. Hair stiff from the ungodly amounts of gel that Jaemin had crammed in earlier, his arms sticky from the accidental spillage during a game of beer pong and his heart hammering for a girl he had never met before, praying to whoever controlled the universe that she’d be okay, that he’d be able to find her within the crowd before it was too late.

With each flash of red that brushed past him, the growing anxiety in his chest plummeted further into the pits.

He shouldn’t have convinced you to go to the party.

Jeno grabbed a fistful of his hair, shagging it in an aggravated manner. This was not at all how he intended to figure out your identity. Not that he regretted the fact that he knew, but rather he had unknowingly put you in danger, causing not yourself but bloody Zhong Chenle to confirm his suspicions.

For fucks sake Jeno, think. If you were trying to avoid a party scene for reasons other than a weird creepy stalker trying to find you, where would you go?

As spotted the vacant areas around the staircase, a light bulb switched on in Jeno’s mind.

Of course, you would go upstairs, hardly anyone would be there. However, his initial excitement was short-lived as he spotted a familiar face or a head of hair.

Jeno couldn’t say he knew Beomgyu. Sure, he had seen him around campus at times and on rare occasions he decided to show up to a society event at the end of the year. If anything, Beomgyu was a popular figure around the university, known to be quite a charming fellow and never caused harm to anyone.

But everyone had their hidden sides and Jeno could not be more panicked than ever as he began making his way towards the staircase ⎯ or rather, you.

With a rushed trip on his step, Jeno made his way to the second floor ⎯ which, to his delight, housed a more comfortable amount of humans but severely lacked a certain shade of red.

Fuck. Was he wrong about his assumptions? Did Beomgyu somehow manage to slip him and snatch you away without him knowing? Or heck, maybe he had already buried you alive inside Zhong Chenle’s backyard.

He shook his thoughts away as he whipped his head towards each person who passed his figure.

Hair’s too long, doesn’t look like you at all, way too chirpy for someone on the run, just no.

Reaching towards the end of the hallway, one person remained. A familiar red hood enveloped the small frame, eyes nervously darting from corner to corner and hands trembling as it grasped onto the phone.

Holy shit. It was you.

As if on autopilot, Jeno’s strides gradually became longer and faster as he made his way towards your figure. He didn’t exactly know what he was doing when he grabbed your hand, nor did it seem like you were expecting his appearance seeing as your eyes grew into wide saucers as you were lugged back towards the staircase, spluttering a mixture of sentences that he couldn’t grasp onto, but that wasn’t his biggest issue right now.

Jeno had been told multiple times for his bad luck with things, stubbing his toe on the same table corner, tripping over his best friend’s legs and now being chased down by a possible murderer inside of Chenle’s massive party (okay, maybe ‘murderer’ was a bit far fetched) but either way, he couldn’t believe the situation could get much worse than this.

Pulling you into the first door as the two of you sprinted up the stairs, he realised the situation could, in fact, become much worse as out of the possibly fifteen different rooms inside Zhong Chenle’s mansion, he managed to pick the fucking supply closet.

Realistically, any person with functioning brain cells would have opened up the door again to seek shelter in the comforts of his friend’s bedroom (the original destination he had in mind) but Lee Jeno wasn’t quite the brightest of the human kind. Rather he chose his pride over the functionality of the situation because he couldn’t have you knowing that he was stupid enough to get lost within his best friend’s walls, so what did he do? Lock the doors of course.

The two of you were engulfed by the shadows, the only light being the one seeping in from the crack underneath the door. He couldn’t see much of you, rather only being able to feel your presence as your body pressed against his and your shallow breaths hitting the underside of his chin. Squinting, he craned his head your way, (not exactly achieving much aside from the outlines of your figure in the darkness).

Lifting his hands to place on what he assumed was your shoulders, he took a deep breath, “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

A beat passed when you answered in a small stammer, “N-no, it’s fine. I’m okay.”

With a sigh of relief, the closet returned to a state of silence. Only the sound of muffled lyrics and cheering college kids cut the tension in the background. It was then Jeno realised one fault about his twin flame, the fact that the two of you were in words the same person, meaning — without the protection of the electronic screen, the pair of you were painfully awkward.

It wasn’t like Jeno didn’t want to talk to you, as a matter of fact, it was quite the contrary. In the lead-up to the party, Jeno had millions of questions racing in his mind about your hobbies, your life and simply just about you but something about rescuing you from a crazy stalker and being stuck in a tight supply closet just didn’t seem to be the best place for his eager introductions and maybe you had the same thoughts.

“So-”

“I guess-”

Nervous laughter tumbled out from your throats, with an outline of his hand gesturing for you to continue.

You sat in silence for a moment, fidgeting around with the edges of the shelves before mumbling, “I guess you found me.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“No! Not at all,” You waved your hands in front of his face, “I just⎯ I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Honestly, I kinda put off meeting you for so long because I feel like I don’t know how to act around you,” You admitted quietly, shuffling around in your spot, “As unbelievable as it sounds, I do in fact get nervous in front of hot samoyed-like boys called Lee Jeno.”

It had always been a mystery of how much you were able to affect his little heart, and how his attempted counterattacks seemed to do such little damage to you. But then again, Jeno was an oblivious fellow, who had never seen your words coming.

Jeno wanted to punch the air, kick his feet up or ‘man squeal’ as Donghyuck liked to describe it. But he couldn’t let you win, not for the second time within the last minute.

“Would you mind if I asked you on a date?”

You paused, before giggles ensured, “Jeno, you don’t need to ask permission to ask me on a date.”

“Hey— it never hurts to be sure,” Embarrassment crept up his neck, shaking his head at your amused response before clearing his throat, “So, what do you say?”

“I would love to.”

masterlist || previous | next

pairing: jeno x fem! reader

synopsis: chenle was convinced that his two introverted friends were destined for each other, so what does he do? bribe them to text each other of course ⎯ or alternatively, when jeno started to fall for an anonymous mutual friend of chenle's

genre: social media au, strangers to lovers, college au, FLUFF, crack

warnings: swearing, mentions of stalkerish behaviour, alcohol, jokes about death/murder, jeno is a SIMP

note: WAITING FORRRR JUST WAITING FORRRR YA!!!! i've had this scene envisioned in my head since i listened to the istj bridge. it's been a long time coming

taglist: open! feel free to send an ask or comment to be added :))) ~ @babyjenono @btssf9nct @baekksore @411star @jenyoonoh @igotkpoops @calumsmut @hs825 @liliansun @raikea10 @loveleejn @luv4jeno @rosabella1009 @ismileeprnc-responder @jenoists @222brainrot @sexygrass @culterycollector @kikookii @minkyuncutie @mrsyixingunicorn10 @tytrackfebreze @sehunniepot @choi-beomgyulvr @jaeminnanaaa17 @multifandomania06 @aerislovjeno @spilled-coffee-cup @artstaeh @tddyhyck @jeongintwt @aerivrs

permanent taglist: ~ @xxxx-23nct @maeumiluv @produmads @shwizhies @polarisjisung @dearlyminhyung @wooyoung-a @w3bqrl @daincty @deehyuck @ficrecnctskz @rv7hsua @n0hyuck @neosdaisy @baekhyunstruly @barbkh8450t @cupid-yuno @rum-gone-why @mxnhoeuwu @dinonuguaegi @alethea-moon @klovmasworld @haechansbbg @moonchele

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billthedrake · 10 months

Text

PRE-FROSH (CHAPTER ONE)

This story is a sequel to "Dad's New Life."

I was prepared to take a good amount of teasing, and maybe more, this weekend. But the guys in the Sig Ep house were cool, I had to admit.

I didn't think I was going to be able to visit. But my older brother Connor swore to my parents he'd keep a hawk's eye on me and keep me from drinking or doing anything I shouldn't. I got along OK with my brother, but growing up he was always kind of bossy, taking advantage of being three years older than me and more of the popular kid in school.

He was still that guy, only now I'd grown up, taller than Connor now, and had really bulked up. I'd say it was basketball and lacrosse, but a lot of it was just obsessively working out and keeping my growing teen body fed with enough protein to put on muscle. I still had a young face - and I had a good idea it would be a while before I could pull off a fake ID - but I was starting to get a strong build for my 6'3" frame.

I now sat in a big sofa in the rec room of the fraternity house, watching some dumb TV. Connor plopped himself next to me with a knowing grin. He had two beer cans in his hand and offered me one. "Not a word to Mom and Dad, Squirt," he admonished.

"Course not," I said, gratefully taking the beer. I took a few sips. It was cheap beer but I didn't care, I loved it.

"Hey O'Brien," one of the brothers said. Alan I think his name was. A senior and a stocky, goofy dude who I discovered was one of Connor's close buddies in the house. The Four Musketeers they called themselves, and Alan was the crudest of the bunch. "Is the pre-frosh gonna partake of Mike's services?"

I wondered if Mike was a drug dealer or something. I figured my older brother wouldn't be into anything too wild. He was the studious one in the family.

Connor got an uncharacteristically shy look. "Dude, it's my baby brother we're talking about."

"I'm not a baby," I objected. I'd turned 18 a couple weeks earlier.

This fraternity brother just gave me a sly wink before turning to my brother. "Like your brother doesn't get his dick wet. The young dude's a fucking lacrosse player fer Christsake."

Fuck, they were talking about sex. With a dude. I smirked, and Connor laughed when he turned to see my expression. "You don't even know what you're grinning about, Jase," he teased.

I shrugged, showing off as much teen bravado as I could. "I figured if it wasn't fun, you wouldn't be acting like I wasn't ready for it."

I could sense my brother was frustrated, cause he didn't object or act bossy, he just gave me a pale grin. "All right. Just remember. No talking about what happens this weekend. Promise?"

"Yeah, dude," I said, annoyed. "I fucking promise."

It was a half hour before Mike showed up. I heart his booming baritone voice coming down the SigEp house steps to the basement before I saw him. I don't know what I expected, but the guy was older, a lot older. Like, dad's age. And buff as hell. He didn't quite look like an ex-athlete, not like Coach Carson, but he was big and beefy and muscular, more of a gym-pumped build, but he clearly took real good care of himself. He wore a snug polo shirt and faded jeans and had a Chicago Bears ball cap on. His shirt was all filled out with huge pecs and big guns. I had jerked off to some bi and gay porn, maybe more than I'd like to admit. I never thought of myself as into older dudes, but something about this guy got me going.

Particularly since I was putting two and two together and realizing this buff older man really was somehow providing some kind of services to the fraternity brothers. Maybe just a handjob or something, and I wondered if he was actually a fucking hooker the way the guys acted so nonchalant.

"Hiya, fellas, how's it hanging?" he asked, giving Dale a fist bump. Dale was another one of the Four Musketeers.

"About six inches soft," Dale wisecracked.

It may have just been banter, but this was not what I was expecting for my pre-frosh weekend on campus.

Mike gave a soft chuckle and looked around. "Same room?" he asked.

"Yeah," Alan replied. "We set it up to make it extra comfy for ya."

Mike smirked but didn't take the bait of the taunt. He just asked. "Who's first?"

"Let the prefrosh have first dibs," said Kyle, a sophomore soccer player who had a whole stoner vibe about him.

I looked over at my big brother Connor, like he was going to object. He just shrugged in a "you wanted it," kind of way.

So I acted like I wasn't some dumb young high schooler and stood up. I felt the guys' eyes on me, almost giggling.

I followed the big guy up the stairs and down the hall. I don't know whose room we were using... one of the brothers', but Mike seemed at home, like he came here regularly. As we stepped in, I started to get nervous, my bravado going right out the window. The man caught on.

"I've not seen you around the house before," he said.

I stood awkwardly in front of him, shifting on my feet some. "I'm just visiting," I explained. "I'm still in high school actually," I added, then immediately regretted it. I was probably blowing my chance for a handjob right then.

But the man didn't seem fazed. His blue eyes twinkled beneath the brim of his ball cap and a smile formed on his handsome face. Up close I could now see the silver flecks in his stubble and for some reason I found that really hot. "Is that right, buddy?" he asked. "Not too young for me are ya?" he asked. Kind of flirty in his question.

"No sir," I replied. Feeling dumb for calling him that. "I'm a senior... just turned 18 a couple weeks ago."

He nodded with that sexy smile of his and now openly looked me up and down. "You're big for 18... you lift regularly I bet."

"Yessir," I said. I wished to hell my parents hadn't instilled that deference to elders thing in me so hard. I probably seemed like an idiot to this guy. "I'm a typical jock, I guess. Hoping to get a lacrosse scholarship somewhere." God, I was blabbing now.

"Nice," was all the guy said and like that he was crouching down in front of me. I'd lost any chub I had with the nervousness and the small talk, but now I knew instantly I wasn't gonna have a problem getting hard. I felt that horny tightness in my chest and throat as I watched this hunky guy get in position and run his hands along my legs.

Mike looked up at me. I tried to gauge his age. Late 40s to mid 50s. He was well preserved for sure, but also had a tan that made his face look more ruggedly handsome. "I bet you get a lot of attention from men."

I shook my head. "I wish," I replied. It was refreshing to be honest, even if I didn't even know this guy.

Mike's paw now massaged the growing boner in my shorts. "Just send out the signals, stud, and I can guarantee you'll get as much attention as you want." It was wild to hear his words in such a deep baritone of a voice, the Chicago accent thick as hell.

"Signals?" I asked. In addition to a handjob, maybe I could get some advice for hooking up. If I had the guts to back in my small hometown.

"Yah," he explained. "Eye contact, body language. Letting a guy know you're open to his advances." His fingers were now undoing my shorts. "I wasn't sure about you, actually. You seem the shy type."

"I've never done anything like this," I admitted.

"Na? Ever have your cock sucked, buddy?" he practically growled.

I shook my head. My heart pounded more. Maybe this was gonna be more than a handjob.

I watched as he pulled my shorts and underwear down. My cock flopped out, hanging in midair for a second before it bounded up into a hard upright position. I was hornier than I realized.

"Hot damn!" Mike gasped. "Cherry and hung as fuck." His hand wrapped around my meat, sending shock jolts of pleasure to my balls. The man's eyes seemed fixed on my dick. "Hell of a cock you got, buddy," he said. Then looking up, he asked, "You Connor's brother?"

"Yeah," I replied. Blushing some. I guess I figured Connor partook of Mike's services, but this was crazy to think about. My dick enjoyed the idea of my big brother getting sucked, though. It jerked in Mike's mitt.

He returned his attention to my crotch. "I could tell. Though you're even bigger than him.... fuck!" He paused and licked his lips. "God, I love virgins."

And like that I watched, almost as if in slow motion, as this middle-aged hunk leaned in and started taking me into his mouth. He used his mouth to wet me down at first, just an inch or two, but it felt incredible. Pleasure but also the novelty of sensation. I'd not been entirely truthful. I'd fucked a couple of chicks, that drunk fumbling at parties kind of fucks, and I'd dated one girl who let me feel her up and she'd give me a handjob. THIS, though, was another world. Mike knew what the fuck he was doing.

The kicker was when he pulled back a second and took in a breath then swallowed me all in one go. His throat felt snug and tight but it was the nastiness of the action which caught me off guard.

Not as much of a shock thought as a voice in the room.

"How is he, Pre-Frosh?" It was Craig, a fit, muscular junior, a kind of typical popular frat dude. The fourth guy in the Four Musketeers group my brother hung out with. I'm guessing he was sent in to keep an eye on things and make sure I was OK.

"Fuck," I gasped. Switching personalities now that I was trying to impress one of Connor's brothers. "Dude knows how work a cock."

Indeed, as I spoke Mike was bobbing up and down on me with slick sounding mouth strokes, his spit running down my balls.

I got a better view of Craig as he stepped up. He always wore his longish dirty blond hair under his ball cap and I saw his cute-handsome face examine my own. "You gonna nut soon, bro?"

I shook my head. "I could. But I want this to last." It was my first time out, and once I got over the fear of a quick trigger I'd settled into enjoying the rising and cresting pleasure without quite orgasming. Though I felt it could come any second now.

"You up for sharing?" he asked. Cautious. I had a sense if it was any other brother, he would have butted right in. But I was Connor's kid brother.

I pulled back and we both laughed as Mike tried to follow me, latching his lips on my meat before I finally broke free.

Craig was already pulling down his sweatpants to reveal his hard dick. He was regular sized, with a good looking cut cock. I enjoyed seeing it but also was proud I outmeasured this college bro.

"Hot," Mike gasped as he moved from his crouch to a kneeling position. Craig played host by offering a folded towel for his knees. The man pulled off his ball cap and tossed it aside. His hair was short and showed a good bit of gray on the temples, but he had enough length on top to give that matted-tousled look from his cap. Mike was still in his polo and jeans and his muscle looked pretty amazing as he scooted toward Craig.

"Fuck yeah," the fraternity brother grunted. "Suck my fucking cock dude."

Craig's eyes were down on Mike, eagerly watching the big guy do his work. Craig's smaller size meant Mike could go wild, battering his own throat with hard and fast movements of his skull.

I didn't know where to keep my eyes. On Mike and his slutty thrill in sucking cock. Or on Craig, who was clearly responding to the sexual stimulation in his face and whole body.

Craig finally reached down and held Mike's head, steadying it and slowly pushing him off.

"It's O'Brien's turn," he said with a chuckle. "I know you like the big ones, Mike," he added.

"I do," the man admitted without shame. He gave Craig's tool one more lick then watched as I stepped up to where Craig had been.

Somehow his BJ now had warmed him up for me. It wasn't just the deep throat that got me off. It was the swiveling motion of his head and the milking suction. Involuntarily I gripped the sides of his head to brace my body.

"Oh SHIT!" I cried. I was entering orgasm now, one that put my previous ones to shame. I saw white for a second and felt light headed. Like Mike was sucking out my consciousness along with my cum.

I heard Craig laughing. "Go for it, bro!" Then. "Niiiccce."

Mike finally spat out my prick. "If you want seconds, stud, you know where to find me," he winked.

Craig meanwhile was practically pushing me out of the way, eager for his turn, his dick reddened and leaking in excitement. "Tell the next guy he's up," he said as he thrust back in between Mike's wet lips. "It won't take me long."

I found my shorts and underwear and put them back on, taking one more view of Craig, who was actively fucking the big burly dude's face.

Everything about this was so crazy and so exciting. A couple of the guys on the team had bragged about gangbanging Kelsey Myers, but I think they were bullshitting. And here was an out-there gangbang happening in my brother's fraternity house.

I was still flush and breathing heavy when I returned to the den. "Who's next?" I said, as I plopped next to my brother on the couch and picked up the beer can, which hadn't warmed up too much. I took a sip of the cheap watery stuff, which for whatever reason tasted like the best goddamn beer I'd tasted.

I could tell Connor was watching me, trying to read me. I turned to him. "What, bro?" I asked, maybe acting more annoyed than I was.

"You OK, Jase?" he asked in a low voice.

I nodded. "Why wouldn't I be?" I said, trying to play it cool. "That was awesome."

He paused and took a sip of his own beer. "You won't mind if I go in there soon?"

"Fuck no," I said, getting the courage to make eye contact with my brother. We were two O'Brien men experiencing the same cocksucker. It was a strange bonding experience for sure. "I'd feel bad if you didn't on my account."

Indeed Connor's turn was next and he got up off the couch, a boner already forming in his sweats. I had never thought of my big bro like this, but indeed he had a pretty big tool.

He was gone about ten minutes. Good for him. When he came back he was flush like I was, the Irish genes making his cheeks rosy pink after sex. I could tell he was embarrassed to have done that with me there, and I enjoyed being the laidback one for a change.

"Seriously, bro," I whispered. "Thanks for letting me do that. You know, for not getting all protective and shit."

He shrugged. "Just don't tell Mom and Dad," he warned.

"What the fuck would I tell them?" I said with a chuckle.

Connor laughed. "You got a point there."

We were watching some dumb MTV reality show, but mostly my attention was on the brothers as one by one they got up to go partake of Mike's services. Alan might have been the last to do so, and when he came back he asked, "Anyone up for seconds?"

I heard the guys laugh as I stood up.

"Pre Frosh is going back!" cried one of the guys. I hoped I wasn't embarrassing Connor or anything, but I had tasted the forbidden fruit and wanted another bite while I still had the chance. I ignored the taunts and made a beeline back to that room.

The door was ajar and I pushed my way in. I saw Mike's polo shirt before anything else. It was on the floor, a few feet away from where that folded towel was, and his discarded jeans.

The man was lying on the bed, face down and ass up in a dreamy quiet repose. I underestimated how muscular he was. That ass alone jutted up in two round hard globes and his back dipped down then swelled up in an amazing mass of lats and rear delts. The back was tanned and totally smooth, a contrast to his pale but furry buns.

I was taking off my shorts and underwear when Mike turned and looked over at me. "I was hoping you'd come back, buddy," he said in his deep soft voice. "You eager for the full ride?"

I wasn't the brightest guy I suppose but it was dawning on me what he meant. At least one of the brothers had fucked him and Mike was now asking me if I wanted to fuck him too.

"Yeah," I said. Like it was a normal occurrence for me. My dick was rock hard again and I fisted it a little.

Mike gave a smile as he watched me get closer to the bed. "Damn, I'm gonna feel that in me good, aren't I?"

Somehow he knew how to be flirty as hell in a masculine way that got me rock hard. Before this weekend I would have imagined I'd enjoy having sex with one of Connor's fraternity brothers instead. Living out some SeanCody or CorbinFisher fantasy. But this older guy was pushing my buttons big time.

"Yep," I said, trying to act cocky like Craig or the other guys had. Only I didn't know where to start when it came to fucking. Surely it wasn't as easy as in the porn videos.

Thankfully Mike seemed to read my hesitation. "Just climb on buddy. Daddy's all lubed up for that big monster."

I wasn't sure what I thought of the daddy thing. But this man was so hot and so clearly in heat, humping the bed some and hiking his meaty ass up for me as I got onto the mattress.

His muscle felt warm beneath me as I stretched my body on top of his, trying not to put all my weight down on him, but just enjoying this. It was so different than fucking a chick, the complete lack of hesitation as Mike reached back and gripped my tool long enough to guide me in place.

"You have an amazing body, stud," he hissed. "Hot fucking high school senior."

My prick felt the wetness of the lube. Then as I pressed in past his recently fucked folds, I knew it wasn't just lube. I'd heard the phrase sloppy seconds of course but it was insane how sloppy Mike's ass felt. Tons of fraternity cum awaited my dick as I bored inside him. I knew not to just ram it in him, and in a way I savored the slow inching in and the way the man's cuts clung to me.

"You have a great body, too, Mike," I said, now letting my chest press more against his back muscle. A thought occurred to me. "You let guys do this a lot?" I asked.

He leaned his head back up against my neck. It took me a second to realize he was moving his ass back against my hips too, doing some of the work to penetrate his ass with my long cock. "Yeah, I do," he replied, matter of fact. "That bother you, buddy?"

"I don't know," I said truthfully. "I guess it's kind of hot.... thanks for letting me do it."

Mike let out a deep growl. "Anytime buddy... that dick of yours feels AMAZING."

I sawed some inches in and out then decided to go for it. Sending my hips forward I pressed all the way inside him. I'm thick and long and I know Mike really felt that.

"Oh FUCK YEAH, buddy!" he grunted, pushing his chest up a little as if to challenging me to press him back down to the bed. I did, accentuating my movement with another thrust into him. "Love that horse meat ya got."

I would have loved this anyway. Losing my virginity with a man. Having my first ass fuck. But Mike was gonna spoil me, I knew. The man just loved sex and his love was infectious. I held on to his shoulders and started fucking. Not hard but with a steady deep pump. Maximizing the pleasure on my cock but also aiming for that vocal response from him.

"Take that dick, man," I growled in his ear as my hips now worked faster. Mike was bigger and more muscular than me but I had the leverage position to hold him steady while I nailed him, as well as the sex adrenaline pumping in my veins.

I worried I was going too hard, but the harder I nailed him the more he seemed to get into it.

"GODDAMN! High schooler fucks like a porn star," he growled.

I worried the brothers could hear us mate. Then I hoped they could hear everything. I was riding that excitement of my first piece of ass, and I was rising to the occasion. I now knew why my lacrosse buddies were so excited by pussy, but this was even better.

His ass was slick and I could feel the wetness along my cock and balls and had a good idea all that cum was frothing up his furry crack. A few of the fraternity brothers had fucked and bred Mike's hole. Connor was probably one of them, I thought.

That idea I was fucking on my brother’s load made my balls tighten immediately. "Holy fuck," I gasped, my cum working up real quick. A part of me wanted to slow down and enjoy this more. That part of me lost out, though. I held on tighter to Mike's beef and just went to town, cumming deep inside the man's guts.

"Get it, buddy!" Mike cried, eager for my seed. I had no idea if he was going to get off. Maybe he did earlier. Right now it was just about my spurting prick and my pure need.

I rode out the cum and finally slowed my roll, now kissing along the man's neck and feeling up his body.

"Hmmm," the man muttered. "You sure that was your first, Stud? You fuck like a champ."

"Yeah," I chuckled. "Hell of a first time, too," I said. "I'm gonna remember this one for a long time."

"I'm glad, bud," he said. "Damn... it feels like I got a baseball bat wedged up inside me."

"Sorry... I can pull out," I said.

"Don't on my account," Mike said, softly, almost shyly. "I mean, I figure an 18 year old jock has another in the tanks, right?"

My dick wasn't going soft and while I wasn't 100 percent sure I could come again soon, I knew I wanted to get as much Mike time as I could. It might be a long time before I had a chance to fuck a man again. "Yeah," I replied.

I humped him some more, before Mike asked if I wanted to try some other positions. We didn't do them all, maybe, but I had a good number of firsts that afternoon. Missionary, cowboy, reverse cowboy, standing. But we finished in doggy, which might have been my favorite.

I felt like a total stud when I finally dismounted and saw how much cum I'd added to Mike's hole. I gave his rump a gentle pat which made the man laugh.

He watched as I got dressed again. "You around town for long?" he asked.

"Just the weekend," I said.

He grinned and looked me up and down. "If I give you my number, will you hit me before you go?"

This is not how I expected my college visit to go. "Hell yeah," I said.

Mike slid out of bed, his beefy body looking amazing all naked and some wiry silvery hair in his chest fur. His dick was pretty soft but I could see the trickles of fresh cum dripping down the insides of his hairy thighs. He found his wallet and fished out a card to hand me.

It read “Daddy Mike” with a phone number, Insta and Twitter handle and OnlyFans URL.

"Are you a porn star?" I asked in surprise. I now felt like a small-town hick for sure.

"Just like to have a little fun," he said. "If you're the jealous type don't look me up online," he said. "A couple of dudes learned that the hard way." He seemed weirdly apologetic to be warning me.

"If what we did just now was a 'little fun' I'd hate to see a lot of fun," I joked.

"The weekend is still young, Pre Frosh," he winked.

I was a little lightheaded and thirsty when I got back to the den. A couple of the guys razzed me for taking so long and I notice Kyle and some other dude get up to go into together.

Connor seemed quiet, not pissed off but in a strange mood. Later, after dinner, we found ourselves sitting alone. My big bro decided to check in with me.

"I guess I shouldn't have been so worried about you with Mike," he said. An edge to his tone, like maybe he didn't approve. I don't know.

I sighed. "I'm gonna call him up tomorrow, you know, go hang out with him." It was a weirdly euphemistic way to say I was gonna fuck Daddy Mike again.

That hit my brother the wrong way. "Come on, Jason. I'm supposed to be watching out for you."

"Dude, it's gonna be fine," I countered. I didn't know if I could convince him of that, or if he needed convincing. Maybe he just felt guilty things had gotten out of hand.

"You know," I added. "I'm into dudes, Connor."

"Clearly," my brother laughed. OK, he wasn't THAT pissed off at me if he was joking around.

That made me laugh, too. "I mean, like, I know that's what I want. I'm gay."

"Oh," he said. "That's cool." Then, "you know I still worry about you, Jase. It's what brothers do."

"Yeah," I conceded. I shot him a wry grin. "And thanks, bro. I wouldn't have it any other way."

#drakestories

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mitchtheficus · 2 years

Text

A Golden Lovers Timeline

PART 1: LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT

The beginning of this story, covering the events leading to their first match and the forming of the Golden Lovers (2006 - 2008)

PART 2: LOVE AND SUCCESS

The Golden Lovers’ adventures in DDT (2009 - 2010)

PART 3: FALLING BEHIND

Their first foray into NJPW, the beginning of the end, and Budokan (2011 - 2012)

PART 4: THE GOLDEN LOVERS ARE NOT OVER

The end of their tag team, and Kenny’s last match in DDT (2013-2014)

PART 5: BETRAYAL

Kenny joins the Bullet Club and breaks Kota’s heart (2015)

PART 6: SEIZE THE THRONE

Kenny gets some new, sadder pants (Jan 2016 - June 2016)

PART 7: AND WAITING FOR HIM

The Pining Chapter (Aug 2016 - Sept 2016)

PART 8: WRESTLE KINGDOM 11

A wild Kota-lookalike in a tiger mask appears! (Oct 2016 - Jan 2017)

PART 9: I NEVER FORGOT ABOUT YOU

Kenny’s slowburn face turn (Feb 2017 - June 2017)

PART 10: RETURN

Kenny says a lot of things about Kota being back in njpw (June 2017 - July 2017)

PART 11: A MEETING IN A HALLWAY

Kota tries to reach Kenny (July 2017 - Aug 2017)

PART 12: THE AMERICAN NIGHTMARE

Cody Rhodes enters our story (Dec 2016 - Dec 2017)

PART 13: WRESTLE KINGDOM 12

Kota reclaims the Phoenix Splash (Dec 2017 - Jan 2018)

PART 14: CRISIS

New Years Dash, January 5, 2018

PART 15: REUNION

New Beginning in Sapporo, Jan 27-28, 2018

PART 16: HOMECOMING

Immediate Elite fallout and Golden Comeback Documentary (Jan 2018 - Feb 2018)

PART 17: HONOR RISING

Shit hits the fan (Feb 2018)

PART 18: WHERE WAS HE

Matt Jackson’s Feelings

PART 19: STRONG STYLE EVOLVED

The Saddest Match Ever (Feb 2018 - March 2018)

PART 20: WE CAN’T TRUST THIS GUY

Kenny visits ROH and the bucks see Cody’s true face (March 2018 - April 2018)

PART 21: THIS IS WHAT LOVE LOOKS LIKE

The Lovers spend Wrestlemania Weekend in New Orleans (April 5-7, 2018)

PART 22: REACHING OUT

The bucks try to repair their relationship with Kenny (May 2018 - June 2018)

PART 23: THE POWER OF LOVE

Dominion, June 9, 2018

PART 24: VIDEO GAMES AND THE COW PALACE

The lovers play video games and Cody chooses friendship over power for once (June 2018 - July 2018)

PART 25: MARATHON

Kota fights his way through the G1 (July 2018 - August 2018)

PART 26: TWO PEOPLE THAT SHARE ONE HEART

G1 Climax Semi-finals and Finals (August 10-12, 2018)

PART 27: THE SEA BETWEEN US

The End

[NOW ON WORDPRESS]

#goldenloverstimeline #the golden lovers #kota ibushi #kenny omega

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foli-vora · 1 year

Text

one step at a time: ch 4.

pero tovar x f!reader

masterlist | series masterlist

a/n: sorry for the delay - easter was a busy time with the fam. i still haven't found time to update my taglist so i'm super sorry about that - i know i've got a few new additions, but i'll try and organise it all over the weekend. hope you enjoy the new chapter x

word count: 3k

warnings: swearing, mentions of food and tovar’s appetite, my new favourite oc's, smidgens of fluff and working into some feelings but this burn be slow-ish, he finds your book porn lmao

! please note that this story is for 18+ only due to future explicit scenes !

“Stop moving.”

“I’m not moving—”

“You are moving.”

He grumbles quietly to himself and shifts under the towel you placed around his shoulders, an obvious tension radiating from them. Your tongue peaks out from between your lips as you comb through a lock of his wet hair and make a somewhat straight cut with your kitchen scissors, tilting your head in focus when you ruffle out and study the freshly trimmed tresses.

“I mean, it could be worse.”

“Very reassuring, loquita, thank you,” he mutters sarcastically, shaking his head and raking his fingers through the damp strands.

“Keep up with the attitude and I’ll cut it all off,” you warn sweetly, chuckling when he throws you a frown over his shoulder. “Well, there’s no bald patches so I think I did okay. Can I dry it?”

“If you like.”

You reach for the hairdryer and turn it on, jumping in shock when he suddenly launches up from the chair and whirls on you in surprise, his fingers grasping at the towel like a damn lifeline. He stares at the contraption in distrust, and you click it off slowly, fighting the grin desperately tugging at your cheeks and holding it up in surrender.

“It’s fine, Tovar,” you reassure, “it’s just a hairdryer—it blows out hot air. Just trust me, okay? It won’t hurt you.”

After a moment of studying your face and the hairdryer, he eventually sinks back into the chair and stiffens when you turn it back on, before relaxing somewhat when you gently start to dry his hair. You smile when he starts to lean into your touch, appreciating the firm drag of your nails against his scalp with a calm hum.

You probably spend a bit too long merely playing with his hair, content to just give him a bit of peace but also finding yourself enjoying the way he softens at your touch, the tension slowly seeping away until he’s practically jelly against the back of the chair.

His hair is long dried by the time you step back with a quiet clearing of your throat, clicking off the hairdryer and slowly sliding the towel from his shoulders.

“All done,” you murmur, wondering why your heart suddenly felt like it was going to launch itself out of your chest.

It’s not him, obviously. You barely know the man. Maybe it’s just nice to be close to someone again, especially with it being so long since your last relationship. You’d lost interest in finding a partner a while ago, over the mere ‘hump and dump' culture taking over the dating scene and instead just focusing on work.

Yeah, that’s all it is.

It’s not him.

“Thank you,” he rumbles quietly, ruffling his soft hair with a rough hand and standing from the chair.

He turns, intending to take the chair back to your small dining table but you’re already halfway there to do it yourself, and your hands clash. It doesn’t help calm the wild beat of your heart. His skin is warm, the back of his hand surprisingly soft despite how calloused his palms are—

You pull away immediately, weakening from the horrific feel of heat washing along your skin, “Oh, I’m sorry—”

“No, the fault is mine—”

He clears his throat, dark eyes finding a sudden interest in the flooring while you desperately try to step around his frame. He unknowingly steps in your way, causing your front to bump into his, and his hands quickly come up to curl around your arms to steady you in surprise. You inhale sharply at his sudden proximity, eyes wide as they dart up to meet and bounce between his.

“God, sorry. I’ll um… yeah, sorry,” you breathe, desperately ignoring the heat of his palms radiating through the thin sleeves of your tee and how it stirs something to life in the pit of your stomach. It’s not him—you’re just horny. Fuck. “I didn’t mean—sorry—”

“Say sorry one more time, loquita,” he mutters in amusement, lips tugging up into a barely there smirk that does nothing to help your little internal freakout, “I don’t think I heard you the first hundred times.”

You snort, shoving his shoulder softly, “Sorry. I uh… I’ve got a bit of hair on me, so I’m gonna take a quick shower, and then we can think about lunch. No point asking if you’re hungry because I know you are.”

He hums as you step past him, pleased with the idea of food, despite only just finishing a party bag size of barbecue crisps only moments before you had wrangled him down for a haircut. And a box of pop tarts before those. And two bowls of cereal before that.

You’d have to take out a damn loan if he keeps eating the way he does. Your modest savings had taken a noticeable hit due to the new appearance that your carefully crafted budget didn’t plan for. It’s not like you expect a bloody time travelling hitch hiker to be one of your expected expenses.

It’ll be fine—he wouldn’t be hanging around for too long, and you can always make up for your losses with extra projects down the track. You just needed to focus on getting him home. You’re still at a complete loss with it all, unsure of what exactly to type into Google. There’s not a wikiHow on how to return someone to the past… or an alternate timeline… or wherever the fuck he came from.

Most of your time in the shower is spent frowning at the tile wall, lost in your thoughts and the potential whys and what ifs. Answers would have to be somewhere, you just needed to be patient. Determined.

He’s lounging on the couch when you eventually emerge from the shower, your favourite big fluffy bath towel tucked firmly around your body as you make a quick detour to the fridge to grab a drink. He doesn’t bother looking up at you as you pass, too busy engrossed in the book spread open in his hands.

You pause as you reach the kitchen, a frown starting to develop between your brows as you vaguely recall the cover. Wait, is he…? No, no, no—

Spinning around, you hastily make your way over to the couch and reach to snatch the book out of his hands in a slight panic. He dives out of the way by rolling from the couch, a roguish grin working its way along his lips as he looks gleefully up at you.

“What is this?”

“Tovar, put the book down—”

“Loquita, this… this is obscene. Is this what literature is now?”

He’s fucking delighted.

What a monster.

“That’s a big word for you, caveman, and I’m surprised you even know what a book is—” you snap, hoping a little insult will throw him off track for just a few seconds for you to make a move for the book.

Heat grows along your chest and rises to your cheeks as he starts to read aloud a rather descriptive paragraph, his smile growing and growing as you desperately step around the couch and try to rip it out of his hands. He evades your reach again, the rough rasp of his laughter filling the room.

“This is a hungry woman… three men at once? What a handful. You are not at all what I had first thought, loquita. What kind of filthy, depraved thoughts reside in that head of yours?”

Dick.

“Wouldn’t you like to know! And I will not be shamed for reading and enjoying erotica in my own damn apartment,” you argue with a vicious point of your finger before giving up on trying to retrieve the book and instead standing with your arms crossed tightly across your chest, “there’s nothing wrong with it. Besides, it’s a good book.”

He grins deviously, “I’m sure it is.”

“Okay, I’m done with this conversation. I’m going to my room to be alone because you’re annoying me—”

“Don’t forget your book, loquita. A trusty companion to keep you company when alone, no?”

He’s teasing—you see the shine of it in his eyes. You swallow, ignoring the angry heat biting at the tip of your ears and the way your heart jumps at the sparkle of mischief creeping into his expression. You can play, too.

Shrugging, you step up to him and snatch the book from his grasp, holding it defensively to your chest. “It is actually—I enjoy how hot and bothered it makes me. Drives me crazy sometimes.”

A tinge of pink fills his cheeks and you grin, taking it as a victory and leaving him, for once, with nothing to say. You wait until you’re in the comfort of your bedroom, the door shut firmly against your back, to take a deep breath in an attempt to gain some control back over your wild heart.

—

It’s not food waiting for you when you answer the knock on your door. Arthur stands somewhat defensively on your welcome mat, eyes narrowed in guarded suspicion but giving way to relief when they find you well and unharmed.

“Oh,” you mutter, “it’s you.”

“I just wanted to see how you’re going,” he says stiffly, eyes flicking over your shoulder no doubt in search of Tovar.

“Well I’m alive,” you drawl sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest. “If I was dead, you’ve left it a little too late to check. I’d be leaking fluids all over my floor by now.”

“Oh, you two,” comes an impatient voice from behind him, and soon Arthur’s getting shoved gently out of the way.

You soften at the appearance of Charlie, fixing his blue paisley ascot tucked beneath his chin and draped in his favourite Burberry coat. He rolls his eyes at the both of you, briefly pausing to press a soft kiss to your cheek before pushing past and letting himself into your apartment with a fresh wave of expensive cologne, dumping the paper bags of take out onto your cluttered coffee table.

“Enough snark. Artie has come to apologise, and you—being the kind, sweet soul you are—obviously forgive him. Now, where is he?” Charlie smiles, looking around for your new, temporary roommate in excitement.

“He’s washing up—he’ll be out in a sec. What have you told him?” You ask Arthur as he steps in after brushing his shoes off on the mat.

Arthur shrugs, “Everything you told me. He’s very excited—you know how much he loves Outlander.”

“At least he believes me.”

He throws you a small look of annoyance tinged with regret, and sighs. “I’m sorry, it just—it's hard to believe, alright? But I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, and I shouldn’t have let you leave like that. Especially alone.”

Nodding, you roll your jaw and study the blank, nameless bags Charlie starts to fuss with.

“What’s in the bags?”

“Enchiladas.”

“Okay,” you grin after a moment, wrapping an arm around Arthur’s waist and squeezing softly, “you’re forgiven.”

Arthur returns the half hug with a quiet chuckle and presses a firm kiss to the crown of your head, “I thought they might help.”

You’re settling on the floor with a grateful smile directed at Charlie when the bathroom door suddenly is wrenched open, and you notice Arthur come to stand a little straighter in the corner of your vision. Charlie looks up in interest from organising the food, a grin slowly curling his lips.

“Well, look at you,” he coos, eyeing Tovar appreciatively as he falters in the doorway of the bathroom, unsure of the new company. Charlie steps forward and around the couch eagerly, brandishing a hand with a charming grin. “I’m Charles, you’ve already met Arthur.”

Tovar eyes the hand warily before stepping forward and giving it a firm shake. He stays quiet, cautious eyes flicking to Arthur where he leans back against the kitchen counter. You see the fight or flight in his eyes, feeling slightly sorry for bombarding him with a new face and another that wasn’t too kind to him previously.

He’ll be alright. You’re sure he’s been faced with worse in his life than your two adopted gay uncles.

You glance up from the food and give him a look. “Tovar, don’t be rude—say hello.”

His frown deepens before he finally gives a quiet, begrudging, “Hello.”

“Trained him well, I see,” Arthur grumbles, quieting when you direct your soft glare to him.

“They’ve come to see how you’re settling in,” you say, bringing Tovar’s attention your way and you give him a small nod of encouragement. “They also bought you some food—are you still hungry?”

It’s a stupid question, but at least it brings him out from where he hovers in the doorway. You notice he sticks close to you, much closer than usual, sinking down beside you on the floor when half of the couch and the armchair is free. He stays quiet, yet incredibly vigilant, eyes constantly bouncing between the men and assessing the threat level as he eats.

“It’s okay, Tovar,” you murmur while Charlie is midway through one of his spiels, and his dark eyes flash to you immediately, “they’re family. You can relax—I won’t leave you alone with them.”

You say it playfully, teasingly, but a flash of appreciation rolls through his gaze before it disappears, and his attention falls back to his food. You watch him for a moment longer, unaware of the little smile that sticks tugging at your lips and the small look Charlie shares with Arthur.

Four pairs of eyes flash to the door when a knock sounds off on it, and you huff sharply, slapping your hands on the floor beside you as you push up to stand.

“About time! Guaranteed delivery under thirty minutes my ass.”

—

Tovar doesn’t warm up easily, you find, which comes as a little shock as he seems quite at ease with you. Sure, he answers any questions thrown at him, but they are always curt, simple answers, never giving away too much information or leading into stories of his memories or how he got here.

It doesn’t bother Charlie in the least, and he rambles enough to keep the conversation going long into the evening. It’s nice to have a small sense of normality after the few confusing and mentally draining days you’ve had. You could pretend, for a little while at least, that you didn’t run over a mysterious time travelling mercenary and that you have his armour and weapons taking up space on the floor in your closet.

You don’t think about wormholes or alternate timelines, or magic, or gods. You just be, and Tovar eventually starts to mimic your calm energy, sinking back into the cushions of the couch and kicking up his sock clad feet onto the coffee table as he watches the conversation from the sidelines.

He still stays as far from your uncles as he could, ensuring you take up the space between him and Arthur on the couch, but at least the look of wary, careful defence gives way to an ease and comfortability. He even stands with you to see Charlie and Arthur out, standing just behind your shoulder and nodding his goodbyes as they disappear down the hall.

“Look at you,” you grin, bumping his shoulder with yours as you return to your places on the couch after the door shuts firmly behind you, “such a ray of sunshine and a major conversationalist. God, I couldn’t get you to stop talking. Who are you?”

He huffs at your gentle teasing, following you quietly with a barely there smile creeping along his lips, “They’re nice.”

You soften, smiling widely up at him from where you lounge on the couch, “They are. They’re very important to me. Charlie can be a bit much, but you handled him wonderfully. I think he’s rather smitten with you.”

Tovar snorts, knocking your feet from where they take up his spot beside you and letting himself fall back into the cushions with a tired sigh. He taps his lap, and you frown questioningly at him before he rolls his eyes in slight impatience and hooks a hand around your ankles, dragging your feet back up and to rest over his lap.

“Arthur does not like me,” he grumbles, turning to focus on the TV and watching the moving pictures eagerly, “not that I care. I do not like him.”

You swallow, suddenly unable to get a single fucking word out from your dry throat, still caught up on the ease of what had just transpired. It’s not a romantic act—hell, you’d used your friends as footstools too many times to count in the past, but it felt odd with Tovar. It was new.

He must be beginning to feel comfortable with you, and the thought brings a wash of something electric to your system. You feel proud, pleased that you hadn’t scared him further in an already disarming situation, and instead had built an agreeable atmosphere for him with you, that he could feel safe and discover this scary new world in his own time.

There was that feeling again, behind the pride and the warmth of your slowly but surely developing friendship. The one you had felt earlier when gently carding your fingers through his hair. You refuse to label it as anything of substance. You’re simply lonely, suddenly in the full time company of an attractive man with a hidden personality you’re steadily uncovering bit by bit.

That’s all.

A small inkling of doubt sticks in the pit of your stomach, merely intensifying when you watch him from your peripheral. You feel the jump of your heart in your chest, the almost nervous twist of your stomach… maybe it wasn’t just loneliness bringing forward these little reactions, but it wouldn’t—couldn’t—change anything.

Tovar was not a man of your world. He had a life elsewhere—friends, family… he needed to return to it. You’d taken on the responsibility of finding a way home for him, and you’d be damned if you failed him, growing feelings or not.

He sighs, bringing you out from your train of thought.

“I’m hungry.”

“Fucking hell, Tovar.”

taglist 1: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld

#pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar #pedro pascal x reader

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elisysd · 10 months

Text

Green Light - Lorde

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

But honey I'll be seein' you down every road I'm waiting for it, that green light, I want it

The three Grand Prix that followed for Charles were rather uneven in terms of results. A P4 in China, a P5 in Miami but a fine victory at Emilia-Romagna which gave him confidence for Monaco. He was looking forward to racing in his hometown, on the streets he knew by heart, and especially in front of Lyanna. It really was a special Grand Prix for him, but this year even more so.

As for Lyanna, she had just finished filming Ferrari just in time to start promoting Flowers and Crown. The movie was due to have its premiere on Friday evening, the week of the Grand Prix, and she was also expected in Cannes the day before for the festival with the entire Ferrari film team, who were among the guests of honour. Charles would be joining her, and she knew that Kika and Pierre would be there too. The opportunity for a double date for the couple of friends before the wild weekend in Monaco got underway.

Lyanna was dreading the moment she would meet David again. She hoped he wouldn't make things more complicated than they had to be. She wanted to get the promotion of the film over with as quickly as possible, especially as she suspected she was going to be asked questions which would have more to do with a certain Ferrari driver than with the film. But she couldn't really blame the journalists, as most of the promotional activities were taking place in the middle of the Monaco Grand Prix.

Charles had returned from Italy the day before, but Lyanna had the impression that they had barely crossed paths. He was very busy with press duties and she was going back and forth between Nice and Monaco to sort out the final details before starting the events to which the film crew had been invited and the interviews. Her mind was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, and she barely had time to sleep or rest. So when she arrived at the hotel in the heart of Monte Carlo, where she was going to spend the day answering the same questions and pretending to have a complicity with David that didn't exist, she was delighted to see the team of make-up artists who were going to take care of her. Once she was ready, she went to the lounge where the PR officer, David and a young blonde woman whom Lyanna didn't know were present.

“Lyanna, thank God you’re here. I was just briefing David about what you can expect from today.”

She began to explain everything to Lyanna, who pretended to listen to her as she nibbled on a croissant. She watched with curious interest as David and the pretty blonde talked and laughed together. They looked close. David's attitude was also more relaxed than she remembered. He didn't seem like the complete asshole she'd met almost a year ago.

“And I think that’s all I had to say for today, did you understand everything Lyanna?”

“Yeah, sure. All is good.” She absent-mindedly said.

Soon David, the girl and her were the only person left. Feeling her gaze on him, David turned and approached her.

“Lyanna, hey… long time no see.” He greeted her.

“Yeah…”

“Well… Here’s Hanna. My girlfriend.” He presented the so-called Hanna who waved shyly to Lyanna who gave a little smile.

“Girlfriend? Well, that was definitely something that I was not expected.” She repeated surprised.

“Me neither, to be honest. But you know what they say, we find love in the most unexpected places.”

He took his girlfriend's hand and gave her a long, loving look.

“Where did you guys meet?”

“An art gallery in New-York. I was looking for something for my apartment and she was working there. We bonded over Banksy and Van Gogh and the rest is history.”

“I didn’t know that you liked art?”

“Actually, I studied art history in uni. Before acting. How could you have known? We’ve never really talked.”

“Yeah, that’s because you were an ass to me and everyone.”

“About that… I want to apologise. I got time to self-reflect and most specifically since I’ve met Hanna and I know I’ve been awful to you. And for that I want to apologize.”

Lyanna nodded. Hearing him saying sorry was the last thing she expected while coming today. But it felt nice. Maybe promo wouldn’t be that bad.

“I appreciate, thanks. It doesn’t erase everything that you did and say but it feels nice.”

David nodded to her before the PR rep came to fetch them for the interviews. As Lyanna suspected, some of the questions directed at her had more to do with her personal life and Charles than with the film. She tried to answer them courteously at first, but when the fifth journalist asked her another question about Charles and herself, she couldn't contain her annoyance. To her surprise, it was David who came to her rescue, skilfully diverting the subject. Then, the whole thing went on very quickly, and she barely had time to eat a few biscuits before going on to a photo shoot that didn't end until very late in the evening.

It was therefore completely exhausted that she returned to Charles' flat at ten o'clock in the evening, wanting to take a long shower and curl up in Charles' arms. Thinking about tomorrow was already giving her a huge headache, as she had to go to Cannes to get ready to walk on the red carpet. This time she was going without Charles, only with the Ferrari film crew, and with Charles, Pierre and Kika the day after. Glancing at her calendar, she wondered when she would even have a minute to herself.

When she entered the room, Charles was fast asleep. Without a sound or sudden movement, she crawled into bed. Charles feeling the mattress sag, moved slightly and unconsciously put his arm around Lyanna's waist to draw her to him. The young woman offered no resistance and soon fell asleep.

She had hardly had a good night's rest when it was time to wake up. Charles was still asleep but it was time for her to get moving. She made herself a quick cup of coffee before meeting her driver, who was due to take her to Cannes. The rest of the morning was a blur and soon Lyanna found herself flanked by Adam Driver, Penelope Cruz and Patrick Dempsey on the red carpet. The quartet spent the rest of the day in interviews before being invited to a party organised by one of the event's sponsors. Lyanna was handed a glass of champagne, which she drank while chatting to a group of people whose names she couldn't remember. Bored to death, she began to drink one glass, then two, then three. Having eaten nothing all day except some hors d'oeuvres, the alcohol quickly went to her head, so much so that one of the hostesses at the event, seeing that the young woman was beginning to feel unwell, forced her to return to the hotel after calling her a taxi.

Alone in her room, Lyanna collapsed on her bed without taking the time to remove her dress and shoes. She felt as if her head was going to explode and she was going to be sick. Mechanically, she picked up the phone and dialled Charles' number. It was nearly two o'clock in the morning and she didn't expect him to pick up, but after a few rings he did.

“Lyanna? It’s two in the morning, are you okay?”

“Charles…I just wanted to tell you I love you, very very much. Very a lot.”

“Very a lot doesn’t exist, love” he said with a smile in his voice.

“Now it does, because I said so.”

“Lya, are you drunk?”

“No. Yes. Maybe a little bit.” She confessed as she was giggling. “You’re cute, did I ever tell you that? And your hair is fluffy.”

“My hair is fluffy. Interesting, I’m going to say that to my mom, she will be happy.”

“I love you. I miss you.”

“So you’re a cute and clingy drunk. Good to know.”

“Do I bother you?”

“Never.” But still she could hear him repress a yawn. “Sleep, love. And drink water, okay. You’ll thank me tomorrow.”

“You come tomorrow, right?”

“I would not miss that for anything in the world. I love you, Lya. Very a lot.”

And Charles kept his promise. He met Lyanna again the next day for the red carpet and as they posed for the photographers, he realised for the first time in his life what it felt like to be someone's boyfriend. The cameras were flashing at Lyanna, she was the one being approached, the one they wanted to talk to. Charles wasn't important. It did him good, for once, to be in the background, but he also understood how Lyanna could feel when she joined him on the tracks.

They both met Pierre and Kika inside the building and decided to just stay together and watch the festivities from afar. Kika had to meet some brand executives while Pierre was enjoying the free food and drinks. Lyanna got to talk with a few people from the entertainment industries as Charles was watching her, in awe. Something Pierre noticed and had fun commenting on.

“I think there is some drool down the corner of your mouth.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re so in love it’s sickening.”

“You are no better.”

“At least I don’t look like a lost puppy whenever Kika is not around me.”

“I’m not… you know what? I’m not even going to comment on that.”

“That’s because you know that I’m right.” Pierre laughed.

“Laugh all you want, you’ll be less of a smart-ass when I’ll overtake you this weekend.”

“You know that you can’t overtake in Monaco.”

“I have an extra good feeling about this weekend. And Lya will be there, so nothing wrong can happen.”

“I’m praying for you, my friend.”

The group of friends didn’t stay too long at the event. The boys had to leave early in the morning to go back to Monaco where they both had press duties to get to. As for Lyanna she had to meet once again the Flowers and Crown crew for some events and interviews. She couldn’t wait for the weekend to be over to finally have some peace and quiet. To have a proper meal and a proper sleep, as well.

Finally, after what felt like an ever-lasting long week, Friday arrived and with it the free practice as well as Arthur qualification session that she and Charles were going to attend, along with Carla and Pascale. When she woke up, she was alone, Charles already gone. She wasn’t feeling well, she felt week and felt like each one of her movements was going to make her throw up. And she had not even eaten yet.

Pascale and Carla arrived a short while later with croissants and other pastries fresh from the bakery, as Lyanna was almost done making herself look presentable. As soon as she opened the door, the smell hit her and as her stomach had already decided to bother her since she had woken up, it didn’t take much for her to rush back to the bathroom and throw up. Pascale rushed to her side, holding her hair back to help her. When she finally stopped Pascale gave her a glass of water and looked at her worryingly.

“You’re pale Lyanna, you should rest, today. It’s just free practices Charles will understand if you don’t come.”

“But I want to go. It’s not only for Charles i want to be there for Arthur as well. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I think it’s just the stress of these last few days. The fresh air will do me good.”

“If you’re sure… but the first signal of you not feeling well, I’m sending you back home.”

But Pascale didn’t need to carry out her threats. By the time Lyanna was stepping inside the paddock, she was feeling much better. She didn’t feel the need to tell Charles about the morning as it was not such a big deal despite Pascale recommendations.

After the Free Practice, it was time to support Arthur. Charles brought Lyanna to the F2 paddock and they both find a quiet spot where they could enjoy the race without being bothered. Lyanna did her best to cheer on Arthur and it warmed Charles’ heart who took the opportunity to snap some pictures of her. He needed a new lock-screen. Arthur ended up P3 in qualifying, his best result up to date and Charles was so proud of him. Giving him a big hug as soon as he stepped out of the car. Arthur was still disappointed but Charles tries to did his best trying to find positive things to say to his brother. Lyanna could not help but to find that a little funny, knowing Charles.

“He is as hard on himself as you are.” she told him on their way back to the F1 paddock.

“I know, it runs in the family… I just want him to know how proud I am of him. I know how hard it is for him and how illegitimate he feels sometimes. It makes me feel bad because I know that it’s my fault.”

“You are a good brother Charles, he doesn’t resent you. He admires you and he wants to be like you. You are his hero. It won’t change.”

If Lyanna thought that her day would end after the FP2 and that she finally would be able to go to bed early, it was in reality far from the truth. Andrea and some friends of Charles were going to come to the flat for dinner. It was a little tradition that Charles had and that he wanted to share with his girlfriend.That’s how she found herself in the kitchen, at 8 pm watching Charles’ attempt to cook pasta under the astonished eye of Andrea.

“Stop judging me guys! You’ll see that they are going to turn out just fine. I’m telling you, it’ll be the best pasta you’ve ever had.”

Joris, who was near, didn’t try to hide the fact that he was recording the whole situation.

“I’m going to keep that preciously somewhere. It could come out handy someday.”

“I’m 3 seconds away to order an uber eats, I know that’s going to be a catastrophe.” added Lyanna.

“I just hope no one will be sick. I need him at the top for tomorrow…” worried Andrea as boiling water was coming out out of the saucepan.

“Guys! Have faith in me!”

Lyanna never ate such horrible pasta in her life. And from the look on everyone’s faces, she was not the only one.

“I didn’t know that it was possible to screw up pasta, yet you prove me wrong.” she told him as everyone was laughing, Charles included.

“Come on, it’s not that bad. It’s crocante! And I’m still going to eat them because in this house we don’t waste food!”

The day of qualifying, Lyanna woke up earlier than Charles with the need to throw up again. She still wasn’t feeling well. She was not feeling rested and her head was spinning a little. this ended up waking up Charles earlier than he expected.

“Lya? Love? Are you okay?”

“Peachy. I’m never eating your crocante pasta ever again. Look what you’ve done to me…”

“I’m so sorry, love… Do you want me to get you something?”

“I’ll be fine, please for the love of god don’t go near the kitchen… ever again.”

If the Friday was relatively calm for Charles and Lyanna, Saturday started to feel a bit overwhelming for her. As soon as they stepped out in the street to go to the tracks, people were there to congratulate him, encouraging him and wanting pictures or autographs from him. Charles was trying his best to accomodate everyone while making sure that Lyanna was okay.

Charles ended P2 in qualifying and everyone was so happy for him. Only Max had managed to snatch the pole from him by driving brilliantly. Charles had nothing to regret, he really had driven his best. But he couldn’t help but feeling as he failed. He wanted to win in Monaco so bad. He wanted to win for him, his family, his friends, his dad, Lyanna and for everyone that supported him. But his disappointment disappeared as soon as he saw Lyanna bright smile when he entered the Ferrari hospitality.

“P2, champ! I’m so proud of you!” she said as she stood up to hug him.

“Yeah, but it’s not pole position and you know how important it is to get it here.”

“Hey, both you and I know that the chances of safety car in Monaco are higher than anywhere else. With a good strategic call and no mistakes during the pit stops, you can definitely win. Everything can happen here.”

“Since when are you this knowledgeable on the topic?” asked Charles, surprised.

“I have a very good teacher who happens to race on the weekend. He taught me a lot. And he is also my boyfriend so that helps.”

“He seems like a good boyfriend. You’re lucky.”

“The best.” she said as she stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss.

Sunday morning began to feel like every single day since Friday, with the throwing up, the feeling of not being fully rested and her head spinning. Fortunately, Charles had already left so she didn’t have to explain anything to him and he would not feel worried. It was the last thing he needed today. But Lyanna felt so much worse than the day before. She could feel her legs trembling and she could barely stand up. She tried to go back to sleep before Pascale and Carla arrivals but failed when she could feel her stomach not cooperating with her. She ended up giving up and decided to prepare herself some tea in the hope of making the nausea go away. She also tried to nibble on some slice of bread but thought it was tasteless. He head was pounding and she was hoping the ibuprofen she had taken would have a miracle effect.

She tried to hide her exhaustion behind a nice and glowy make up but it was not enough to fool Pascale when she finally arrived to take her to go watch Arthur’s race.

“You look like a ghost, Lyanna. Are you really sure you want to come, it’s just Arthur’s race, I would prefer if you were resting and be fine for Charles.”

“I won’t be able to rest, I know that. I prefer to go and try to forget how awful I feel.”

“Suit yourself, Lya, but you are worrying me.”

Lyanna spent most of the race sat in a corner with a bottle of water to keep her hydrated, on Pascale’s advice. Arthur finished the race P6 after a bad call from the team but he was nonetheless very happy with his result. It was the first time he finished his home Grand Prix and he was proud. And everyone was proud of him. Lyanna started to feel a little better by lunchtime, where she met Charles. They found a quiet spot in the hospitality away from everyone. Lyanna could tell Charles was anxious as his right leg couldn’t stop to bounce. It started to stress her out and she decided to place her hand on it and to squeeze it lightly.

“Sorry, it’s just a mix between anxiety and excitement.” he said to her as he was taking a bite of his avocado toast.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. And no matter what I’m proud of you. Even if it doesn’t turn out the way you hope it will, I’ll be there. Always.”

It was all the reassurance Charles needed to know that it would be okay.

Soon it was time for them to go back to the garage and for him to step into the car. Lyanna went to the back where Arthur was as well as Pascale. Right before being called by his mechanics and engineer, Charles toddled around his family to give them a hug and a forehead kiss for his mom. Then, he took Lyanna’s waist to pull her against him. She put both hands on his chest, playing with the scratch pads of his racing suit.

“Well… be fast. Come back to me. I love you”

“Always. I love you too. Take care of that for me, okay?” he asked, giving her the little red bracelet that Lyanna put immediately around her wrist.

A few moments later, the race began with Charles trying to pressurise Max, unsuccessfully. The Red Bull was fast and it was a matter of time before max took the lead comfortably, leaving Charles defending against George. Lyanna had to admit it, the race was boring, as everyone had told her it would be. But still she was still watching the screen intently, leaving a gasp when Lance lost the control of his car and ended up in the wall. His mistake led the deployment of the safety car and everyone was holding their breath waiting for Ferrari strategy. The call made was a double pit stop with the priority for Charles. A few seconds later, Lyanna could see from the corner of her eyes the number 16 red car stopping and making a great 2.2 seconds stop, which was great. Lyanna breathed a little bit better as Charles was back on the track, trying to catch up to Max. He was just three seconds away, but there was only ten laps to go and the gap between them remained the same. But at least Carlos who managed to get rid of George thanks to a missed pit stop from Mercedes. But at least, the podium seemed secure for Charles and Lyanna could start to feel tears form behind her eyelids. She looked at Pascale and Arthur that were in the same sate of happiness as her and even if everyone remained focus in the garage, you could feel the atmosphere had changed.

There were only five laps to go when Lyanna stood up and she could immediately feel that something was wrong with her. Her legs felt weak and she felt dizzy. She felt like the world was spinning around her and tried to hold on to something but failed as the world faded to black around her.

Charles did it. He finally made it. After all the DNF, engine failures, strategy fucks up, he finally was on the podium of his home Grand prix. Not on the first step as he would have loved to but on the second one. He would not lie, there were a few tears that were threatening to fall when he walked on the podium. His gaze scanned the crowed looking for his mom, his brothers and Lya. If he had no problems finding his family, it’s Lya who was nowhere to be seen. He was disappointed, his first podium here in Monaco and she was not there. He did not worried much than needed, he knew she was pretty busy with interviews and media duties, something he knew all to well. Bu still, somehow it hurt him.

So as soon as he got rid of his obligations, the first thing he did was looking for his family who was waiting for him at the Ferrari hospitality. When he saw them and most importantly when he saw the dark look on their faces,he immediately knew something was wrong. And he was sure of it when the hug his mom gave him was feeling more like an i’m sorry than a congratulations.

“Where is Lya?” he asked immediately

“Charles… she is at the hospital. She fainted.” announced his mom.

And just like the high he was on was over and he felt his heart shattered in million tiny pieces.He did not care about anything else than rushing to the hospital to be at Lya’s side. Nothing mattered more than that. Not the journalists, not the team, not the after party and definitely not the Prince Albert of Monaco whose name was appearing on his phone as he was sprinting towards the paddock entrance, Arthur following closely behind.

“She is at Princesse Grace hospital. The medics thought it was better for her to be there rather than staying with the medical staff here.” told him Arthur as they were getting on the bikes.

“Fucking trafic… when did it happen? What happened exactly?”

“She was already not feeling well this morning when mom came to your flat to get her. But Lya insisted to come, she did not want to miss your race. Mom tried to resonate her but she is pretty stubborn. And then she turned pale all at once and she fainted a few laps before the final one.”

“She seemed fine when we ate lunch together.”

“Actually, mom said she has been sick for a few days. She threw up a lot and she is really tired.”

“A few days? I knew about Saturday but I thought I food poisoned her with the pasta. Why did no one tell me anything?”

“You’ve barely been there. And I’m not saying that to blame you. I know you were busy.”

“Still, I’m busy but I could have still taken time off for family emergency.”

Charles felt like he had never ridden a back as fast in his life. Soon they were at the hospital and he rushed to the reception, Arthur following close behind on the phone with Pascale that would call Lya’s mom.

“Lyanna Michel. Where is she? She was brought here as an emergency.”

“Who are you? Only family is allowed.”

“I’m her boyfriend.”

“Room 164, third floor. The elevator is this way.”

Charles thanked and wave at Arthur to follow him. When they finally got there, the doctor was coming out of the room. Charles rushed to his side and asked him how was Lyanna.

“She is resting at the moment. He blood test showed us that she had anaemia, which explained why she felt so tired, the headaches and the feeling of dizziness. And also why she was throwing up. It’s a never ending cycle. She was too tired to eat, her stomach began to get accustomed to the lack of nutriments and then rejects everything when she tried to eat normally. We are still going to do a bone marrow biopsy to be sure there is no sign of leukaemia. We are going to keep her for a few days.”

Biopsy. Leukemia. Those were words Charles did not like at all. He felt guilty. If he was the good boyfriend he thought he were he should have seen the signs. he should have seen she was sick. But he was too caught up in his own bubble to noticed it.

“Can I see her?” he asked

“Sure. But not more than one person at once. She really needs to rest.”

Charles entered the room and saw immediately Lyanna’s frame linked to different machines that were monitoring her as well as an iron infusion. He took he seat next to her and take her cold hand in his carefully. She shifted a little, turning her head toward him.

“Hey, champ…”

“Lya…” he sighed, defeated.

“No. Don’t be like that. I’m okay, Charles. Well not right now because I feel like shit, but I’ll be. I’m just sorry to not have been there to see you on the podium.”

“I don’t care about the podium, Lya. I only care about you.”

“I’ve ruined your home race…”

“You didn’t ruin anything. Don’t worry about that, okay.”

“But you must have so many places to be at, so many people to talk to…”

“I’m right where I need to be.”

She closed her eyes for a short moment before opening them again. She could see how uncomfortable Charles was and she knew that this hospital was bringing back some bad memories. She squeezed lightly his hand and trace smal pattern in the palm of his hand to get his minds off of the dark corners it went to.

“I’ve talked to the doctor… He talked about leukaemia and biopsy Lyanna.”

“Normal tests to run, Charles. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, barely had time to myself, to eat and drink and rest properly. Something like that was bound to happen.”

“Still I hate that…”

“I’ll be fine. I promise you.”

“Yes. And as soon as you leave this place, I’m not leaving your side. You’re coming with me for the European races. This way I can watch you and take care of you properly. It’s you and me against the world, Lya.” he whispered to her as he was pressing his lips on her forehead.

========

author's note: It's the Monaco Grand Prix baby!!The longest chapter of the book but the very first one I planned. I as so anxious to write it because I wanted it to be perfect. I hope you enjoyed it! As usual, let me know your thoughts through the comments or ask box if your too shy. And don't forget to leave a like or reblog the story. It helps. And it lets me know that you like the story. taglist: @zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali @blueflorals @aundercover @ruleroftheuniverse @fangirlika @writerscurse @elijahmikaelsonbitch @leclerc13 @karmabyfernando @stargaryenx @pitlanebabe @boiohboii @reengard If you are tagged but did not receive any notifications, please check your settings because it means that Tumblr didn't let me tag you.

#writing #charles leclerc #fiction #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fanfic #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc imagines #cl16 #charles leclerc blurb #f1 x oc #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 3 months

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WIP Weekend

Weekly WIP update: New month, new project!!!

The new Possession chapter is coming along nicely and should hopefully be good to post some time late next week. (Hell yeah, let's fuck him up!!!)

Omega!Eddie now has a tentative title, wohoooo!

My two fics for the Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang are officially finished! They will post on 25 and 29 March, and I'm sooo excited to share them! Keep your eyes peeled for some small teasers!

Meanwhile, I am STOKED to dive into the next big thing. "The King's Gift" will be a new multi-chapter fic and art project by me and @house-of-the-moving-image. We've been screaming about this little baby in our DMs for so long, and I can't wait to dive into this world. If medieval King Eddie, time traveller Steve, fae magic, a curse, and a prophecy sound like your cup of tea, we hope to see you around for this one!

Send me an emoji and I'll write and share three sentences from that fic!

🦇Possession

🔥From a spark to a flame (omega!Eddie)

🏰The King's Gift

Snippet from 🏰

He doesn’t even consciously process what happens. Just knows that a stranger whose bed he woke up in and who just called him his fucking birthday gift is pulling him in for a kiss. One second later, his knuckles are hurting and said stranger is in a heap on the floor, wiping blood from his split lip.

“Pretty and feisty,” he mutters. When he lifts his gaze, his eyes are full of awe. “You really are perfect, aren't you?”

“What the fuck?” Steve blurts. Again. He's starting to lose count of how often it's been. “Who do you even think you are, you fucking weirdo?”

The guy cocks his head in confusion, but only for a second. Then, that infuriating dimpled grin slips back on. He's handsome, in a dangerous and rugged way, with his wild hair and bruised lip.

“Apologies, he rumbles. “Where are my manners?”

And then, without getting up off the ground, he reaches out and takes Steve’s hand in his. Steve watches, heart in his throat and eyes wide with confusion, how the guy bends into a dramatic bow and reverently kisses his own blood off his raw knuckles.

“The name is Edward. King Edward Munson of the Woodland Mountains. Also oh-so-aptly known as Edward the Banished, though my friends just call me Eddie. And you, my dear …”

He looks up at him, all glinting eyes under dark lashes and Steve needs to swallow against the lump clogging his throat.

“You're going to be the one who saves me.”

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #wip ask game #wip weekend

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foolishlovers · 3 months

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Wild Hearts - Chapter Two

[Rating: E Category: M/M Chapter: 2/? Relationship: Aziraphale/ Crowley Relevant Tags: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Boarding School, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Smitten Crowley] The new school year begins and Crowley and Aziraphale lead their first theatre club meeting together...

Within moments, a stream of students began to trickle into the room. They found their seats, engaging in idle chatter and exchanging greetings with their teachers who returned them with a simple nod (Crowley) and a warm "Welcome, come in, come in" (your guess).

Sure, Crowley had walked in on Aziraphale in the classroom before; that was inevitable working at the same school and given the fact that Crowley continuously found bliss in witnessing Aziraphale’s expression brightening whenever he decided to surprise him with a sweet treat from Nina's during his afternoon lessons, taking advantage of his occasional own free time. Of course, he would concoct an excuse related to a pressing teacher matter to justify his presence to the students. Like the printer not working. Because obviously, Aziraphale had the skills to help with that. Yeah. He was fascinated by the kindness and confidence radiating from Aziraphale now, his earlier nervousness still on Crowley’s mind. Aziraphale appeared entirely in his element. It was no surprise that the students listened attentively; he commanded their attention in an effortless way, without needing to raise his voice for the room to fall into a comfortable silence. Turning his head around, Aziraphale gave him a dazzling smile. Crowley's throat tightened as he forced down a gulp. He reluctantly mirrored the smile in response. Aziraphale remained silent, his gaze fixed on Crowley, as if anticipating something else to happen- Oh. A rush of red flooded Crowley's cheeks as he nearly stumbled over his own feet, scrambling to find his place beside Aziraphale. Right. He wasn't just there to observe.

read the complete chapter here

[reblogs/likes etc always appreciated 💜]

#new weekend new chapter!! 🥰#good omens fanfic #good omens human au #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #aziracrow fanfic #crowley x aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens #good omens fic rec #boarding school au #wild hearts #foolishlovers

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angelasscribbles · 3 months

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Wild Ride: A Bad Romance Prequel One-Shot

Series: Bad Romance Continues

Original Series: Bad Romance

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Leo

Rating: NSFW

Warnings for this chapter: Lemons

Word Count: 2,503

A/N: If you've read Bad Romance you know who Riley ends up with in the end. If you've read Disney Adventure, you also know that there was a previous weekend with Leo that predates her meeting everyone else. (And she had no idea Leo and Liam were connected until the coronation). Disney Adventure references this weekend (many times lol), but goes into no detail. This is that detail. Or at least the beginning of it.

Way back in November of 2022, I posted a prompt wheel ask event to celebrate passing the 350-follower mark. That was 15 months and roughly 1,100 followers ago. I received 10 asks and completed 9 of them. (and 3 of those launched series, two of which have been completed to date). Here is the list of those asks with links to the completed fics.

This is the last of those asks. And it's only 15 months late. 😆

The ask was from @harleybeaumont and it was for Leo x smut x nightlife. I decided it was the perfect opportunity to answer all those questions I got about what exactly happened the weekend Riley and Leo met in my Bad Romance universe.

I credit @dcbbw for putting the idea of Riley and Leo in my head in the first place. I have loved writing their dynamic both here and in the Disney Adventure mini-series. I hope you all enjoy it as well.

My other stuff: Master List.

Leo Rys, former crown prince, and current international playboy, made his way through the crowd, searching for prey. The BRIC Celebrate Brooklyn Music Festival was one of his favorite New York events. All summer long, free, outdoors, and full of eligible, hot women.

He had been at loose ends since he’d abdicated the throne. Sailing around the Mediterranean on a cruise ship had been amusing for a little while… until he’d gotten his heart handed to him. Again.

He knew he should be doing something with his life, but he didn’t know what. Not yet. He would give himself a couple of years to have fun, then he would get serious about something.

Meanwhile, he was on the prowl for his next good time.

He spotted her next to the stage. The lead singer was eye fucking her, and she wasn’t discouraging it.

She was wearing a crisscross tie-dyed halter top, her hair spilling down her back in luscious dusky waves as she undulated her body while keeping her eyes locked on the singer.

His focus narrowed. Target acquired.

His eyes flicked to the stage. He was hotter than the lead singer, and he wasn’t stuck performing. His odds of pulling her attention were high. He liked his chances.

She didn’t see him coming. It was loud and her attention was occupied. She jumped when a voice spoke in her ear, “I can play the guitar better than that guy.”

She turned her head to say something snarky, but stopped when her eyes fell on the owner of the voice.

Hot as hell didn’t begin to cover it. He was a fucking Greek God is what he was. Blond hair, blue eyes, muscular build, grey T-shirt straining across his chest.

Blond wasn’t her usual type, she tended toward dark and swarthy. But in his case, she’d make an exception.

He looked like he worked out on the regular. He had dimples when he smiled. Broad at the shoulders, narrow at the hips, and barrel-chested. He checked several of her boxes.

And that accent.

Good humor sparkled in his ocean-blue eyes as he jerked his head toward the stage, then yelled in her ear, “I’m better looking than him, too.”

She flipped her hair back as she gave him an appraising look, then leaned forward to yell back, “Are you competing with him for something?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded his head vigorously.

“Yeah?” Her eyebrows raised, “What?”

He leaned down to put his mouth to her ear again. “Your attention.”

“You want my attention?” She yelled back.

“I do. You know what else I do better than him?”

“What?”

“Fuck.”

She laughed. “How can you possibly know that?”

He pulled out his cell phone. “I have references. Want me to call up a few old girlfriends?”

Her eyes ran over every inch of him before replying, “That won’t be necessary. I’ll give you an interview right now.”

“What would that entail?”

He had barely finished the sentence when she grabbed his face with both hands and brought her mouth to his.

Her tongue tangled with his, and he felt himself sinking.

She tasted like cherries and summer; her lips were soft and lush. Her tongue was insistent, demanding.

He kissed her back with everything he had.

When she pulled away, she grinned at him. “I guess that was okay.”

“Okay? Just okay?”

“I said it was okay. Take the win.”

“I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t expecting it! Can I have a do-over?”

“Tell you what,” she stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his chest, “Take me to dinner and we’ll see where it goes.”

“Fuck yeah!” Leo grinned as he grabbed her by the hand and led her away from the stage.

When they finally got far enough away from the music to talk normally, he introduced himself. “I’m Leo. What’s your name?”

“Riley.”

“Nice to meet you, Riley. What do you want for dinner?”

“Food is usually good.”

“All right, smartass. Food it is!” He stopped next to a red ninja motorcycle and handed her a helmet. “Ready?”

“Nice bike!” She said appreciatively.

“Thanks. I like it.” He put his own helmet on and fastened it.

She climbed onto the back of the bike with his help and wrapped her arms around him.

His abs were rock hard. She snuggled closer appreciatively.

He started the bike, flipped the kickstand up, and leaned into it as the bike surged forward.

Riley squealed in delight as the bottom dropped out of her stomach.

He stopped the bike in front of Fred’s Pizzeria.

She pulled her helmet off and hit him in the back. “Pizza? I can’t eat pizza!”

“Ow! Why not?” he asked as he pulled his own helmet off.

“I’m allergic to tomatoes!”

“Oh, shit! I’m sorry! We can go somewhere else!”

“Nah,” she jumped off the bike with a laugh, “I’m just fucking with you. I’m not allergic to anything.”

“I…what?” he laughed.

She was already at the door. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “You coming or not?”

He shook his head as he climbed off the bike. This girl was trouble with a capital T.

Good thing he liked trouble.

The pizzeria was crowded, so they ended up eating outside, sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk. The conversation was light and flirty, the looks they exchanged were steamy and anticipatory, and the tension that filled the air was thick and thrilling.

“Hey,” he wiped a smear of marinara sauce from the corner of her mouth, “Do you want to get out of here and go for a ride on my bike?”

“Didn’t I already do that? Isn’t that how we got here?”

“All right wiseass, would you like to go for another ride on my bike? Maybe do other things on it…”

“Other things?” Her eyebrows shot up in interest. “What other things?”

Leo jumped to his feet and reached back for her. “Well, come on and I’ll show you!”

She took his hand and before she knew it; they were on his bike again, speeding through the waning evening light, heading away from the city and toward the shore. Cool, ocean air caressed them as they flew down a coastal highway and then a dirt road. He drove around a barricade and brought the bike to a stop on a small, private beach.

Removing her helmet, Riley shook her hair loose as she asked, “Wasn’t that a no-trespassing sign back there?”

“It’s fine,” He assured her as he pulled his helmet off and tossed it carelessly on the ground before climbing off the bike. “I know the owner.”

He caught her as she slid off the motorcycle, his hands going around her waist as her body bumped into his. He didn’t release her, instead; he pulled her closer. With a cocky grin, he told her, “If you don’t want to make out with me, you’d better say so now.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his grin. “Oh, I was beginning to think you were too chicken to make a move.”

“Too chicken?” He laughed in surprise. This girl had a way of challenging and surprising him, and he liked it. A lot. “I’ll show you too chicken!”

His lips crashed against hers, his grip tightened around her body, and his desire for her became evident as he pressed his body closer to her.

She responded to him as darkness dropped across the beach. One leg went up and wrapped around him as her fingers gripped a handful of his hair. Her head tipped back as his lips traced warm kisses down her neck.

He buried his nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply before moving up to nip at her earlobe. She smelled amazing; she tasted amazing, and he needed more. Much more.

His hands worked quickly but gently to pull one item of clothing after another from her body, until she was bare in front of him, her sun-drenched skin gleaming in the moonlight. “My god, you’re beautiful,” he breathed out as he renewed his exploration of her now-naked body. His fingers trailed across silky skin, his tongue caressed taut nipples, and his warm breath sent shivers chasing down her spine. He pulled back with a satisfied smile, pleased with how she trembled under his touch.

“Don’t stop now,” she admonished him, lurching forward to yank his shirt over his head. She gave him a teasing smile before leaning forward and running her tongue up the side of his neck. “It’s only fair if we’re both naked.”

“I cannot fault your logic,” he laughed as he stumbled out of the rest of his clothes. He liked the way she didn’t sit still and wait for his next move. This girl was a firecracker, and he couldn’t wait to watch her explode.

There was nothing between them but the night air as he pulled her back into his arms. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked as she slid out of his arms toward the ground. A moment later, that question was answered as she took the length of him into her mouth.

His hands sank into her hair, his eyes fluttered shut and his head fell back with a heartfelt, “Oh, fuck!”

For several long moments, he lost himself in the overwhelming pleasure washing over him. His entire body tingled from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. She was good at it. Too good. “Stop!” He placed one hand on her forehead and pushed her gently away as he stepped out of her reach.

There was a mischievous, almost predatory glint in her eye as she stood back up. “What’s the matter? Afraid you’re not going to last?”

“Fuck, yes…” he drew in a ragged breath as his mind spun with ideas. His gaze landed on his bike and his eyes lit up with delight. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward it. “Come here.”

“What are we—"

“Hold on,” he put the bike on its center stand and swooped her off her feet.

She was still shrieking with surprised amusement as he deposited her on the seat, facing him. He gave her a confident smirk as he pushed her legs apart and knelt before her.

“I like where this is heading,” she arched her body toward him in invitation.

He did not disappoint. This was a man who knew how to deploy his tongue. Her body twisted and withed as she struggled to keep hold of the bike and not topple off of it onto the ground. The soft warmth of his mouth on her most intimate place filled her with heat as the salt air caressed her exposed flesh.

With an expert flick of his tongue, she lost control and slid forward toward the ground as a tidal wave of pleasure crashed through her body.

She was still throbbing from the orgasm when he scooped her up, put her back on the motorcycle, and hit the start button.

His voice was rough and low as he told her, “Turn around. Straddle it like you’re driving it. Trust me on this.”

She prided herself on her willingness to try anything once. Twice, if I like it, was her motto. She turned so that she was facing forward. Leo scrambled on behind her. His arms circled her waist as his breath brushed against the side of her neck. “Now, hold on to the handlebars.”

She did as she was told, gripping the handlebars to maintain her balance as his hands ran freely over her body. She turned her head back to receive his tongue in her mouth. He broke the kiss to whisper in her ear, “Now lean forward, rub that pretty little pussy against the fuel tank and rev the engine.”

Oh, that was something new.

She pressed her body forward as he entered her from behind. He moved slowly at first, sinking into her an inch at a time. The synthesis of him moving inside her, combined with the vibration of the bike pulsing through her clit, sent spirals of pleasure rippling through her body. She controlled the strength of the vibration with the throttle as Leo’s thrusts became faster, harder, and deeper.

She let every inhibition she had fall away as she screamed her release into the deepening night. Ecstasy throbbed in her center, then spread in fiery hot ribbons throughout her entire being as the top half of her body arched off the motorcycle, her head coming to rest on Leo’s shoulder as her lower body rubbed against the smooth metal of the tank.

Her complete and utter abandon pushed him over the edge with her. The sound of her cries in his ears, and the sensation of her clenching around him as a squirt of hot liquid coated his cock, destroyed any vestige of control he had left. With one last savage thrust, he exploded inside her with a guttural roar.

“Goddamn,” he gasped when he could speak again. “That was fucking amazing. Marry me?”

She laughed as she turned her body around so that she was still straddling the seat but facing the opposite direction.

He scooted back a little to give her room and once she was fully turned around; he moved back and pulled her into her arms, raining kisses down the side of her face and neck and dropping them along her shoulder.

She squirmed happily under his affections. “I think marriage might be a bit premature.”

“Fine,” he huffed, pretending to take offense. “But at least come back to my room with me. I have more tricks up my sleeve.”

She hooked her arms around his neck. “That I can manage.”

Forty-five minutes later, they were back in his hotel room. She was in his shower, and he was on the phone ordering room service. She requested chocolate sauce and whipped cream and damned if he was missing out on whatever she had planned for those.

He hung up the phone and flopped down on the bed, hands tucked behind his head. Staring up at the ceiling, he let his mind wander a little. He knew they had just met, but he was completely bewitched.

She was mesmerizing. Her fire reminded him of another woman, the one that he hadn't been able to get over. In his whole life, there had only been two women he had been remotely interested in holding onto, and both had slipped through his fingers. Katie had married someone else, and Liv might be in love with his brother.

He had come to realize that his infatuation with Katie had probably been nothing more than a rebound. How does one move on after being dumped the night before you were planning to propose?

He pushed those thoughts away.

Tonight, he had Riley to focus on and he was determined to show her the time of her life.

Who knew? Maybe it was the beginning of something great.

#bad romance #trr au #trr #trr fanfic #leo rys #angelasscribbles #the royal romance #choices fic writers creations #the royal romance fanfic #cfwc fics of the week #riley brooks

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yeolsaintlaurent · 4 months

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Crimson Veins, Midnight Flames ch.2 [BBH]

pairing - baekhyun x fem reader

additional characters - sehun, chanyeol

genre - mature, smut, thriller

themes - Social Divide, Ambition and Privilege, Dark Desires, Identity and Self-Discovery, Love triangle, Sex, Mystery and Gothic Elements

Synopsis - Explore the intricate world of Oxford University, where Baekhyun, a scholarship student, intertwines with the wealthy elite led by Sehun Oh and Y/N Van der Bilt. Against the backdrop of seductive parties and concealed love, the tale unfolds at the grand Ivy Crest Estate in the picturesque town of Willowbrook. Here, secrets and power plays unravel, revealing a collision between societal expectations and personal truths, with gothic nuances weaving through the rich tapestry of privilege and deceit. This is where the heart of the story beats, echoing with the footsteps of characters entwined in a dance of love, betrayal, and hidden mysteries.

warnings - drugs, orgy, nudity

Chapter 2: Intoxicated Whispers of Realities

The weekend arrived, ushering in a torrent of neon lights, thundering music, and the infectious energy of the party scene. Chanyeol, the embodiment of excitement, managed to coerce Baekhyun into attending one of Sehun's legendary house parties. Reluctant but intrigued, Baekhyun found himself at the doorstep of a pulsating spectacle.

The thumping bass resonated through the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter that reverberated within the confines of Sehun's grand residence. Baekhyun, wearing a pair of black slacks, a plain white t-shirt and worn down sneakers, felt like a ghost in a sea of vivid hues and designer outfits.

Chanyeol tossed the keys to his G-wagon over to the valet and then proceeded to pull Baekhyun into the heart of the madness. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, and the extravagant setting transformed into a kaleidoscope of colours, illuminated by vibrant neon lights and shrouded in a haze of smoke.

The grand entrance beckoned guests into a realm of luxury, adorned with exquisite marble statues that seemed to breathe life into the grandeur of the surroundings. Wait staff, poised with trays of tantalising drinks and pills, were stationed strategically to cater to Sehun's distinguished guests.

Inside, the party pulsated with life. A grand piano echoed with the notes of a skilled pianist, adding a touch of class to the vibrant chaos. The bar, a focal point of the festivities, boasted top-shelf liquor tended to by seasoned mixologists who crafted cocktails with finesse. The air was thick with the eclectic beats of the music, drawing people onto the dance floor where bodies swayed to the rhythm.

In one corner, a high-stakes poker game unfolded, the stakes rising with every round. For those seeking an even riskier and naughty thrill, a table nearby hosted a game of strip poker, laughter mingling with the suspense of the game. Outdoors, a massive pool became a hub of activity, with guests skinny dipping, and colourful floaties added a playful touch to the scene. The mansion, a playground of indulgence, buzzed with the heady cocktail of wealth and revelry.

"Come on, Baek! This shit is going to be fucking epic!" Chanyeol shouted over the music, leading Baekhyun through the chaotic dance floor.

As they navigated through the throngs of people, Chanyeol spotted a familiar face. "Yo, Sehun!" he hollered, beckoning for Baekhyun to follow.

Sehun, the stoic host of the wild affair, greeted them with a charismatic smile that barely masked his usually cold exterior. "Chanyeol, my man! Glad you could make it. And you have brought..?"

"This is Baekhyun," Chanyeol introduced, giving Baekhyun a playful nudge. "He's a bit new to the scene, but he's catching up."

Sehun extended a hand, impeccably dressed in head-to-toe Dior, his sharp gaze assessing Baekhyun. "Welcome, Baekhyun. Enjoy the party."

Baekhyun, feeling like a small fish in a vast, tumultuous ocean of debauchery, managed a polite nod. Sehun, his usually icy demeanour slightly thawed by Chanyeol's association, continued to judge Baekhyun based on his attire, silently questioning the connection between him and Chanyeol.

Sehun's opulent mansion played host to an exclusive gathering of affluent individuals, a meticulously curated assembly of young heirs draped in extravagance from head to toe. Adorned in scrupulously tailored ensembles and accessorised with the finest trappings, they emitted an unmistakable scent of wealth. Sehun's discerning eye had carefully selected guests who promised both social prestige and business potential.

In this high-society party setting, the guests shed their reserved exteriors, revealing a different facet of their personalities. While outside the walls of the mansion, they were draped in the veneer of propriety and formality, within its confines, inhibitions were cast aside. Laughter rang out unrestrained, and the grandiosity of the mansion provided the perfect backdrop for the elite to indulge in their most lavish desires. The atmosphere pulsated with unrestrained energy as Sehun's carefully chosen attendees let loose.

Chanyeol guided Baekhyun through various conversations and social circles, urging him to embrace the madness. Soon after, Baekhyun excused himself and wandered off to a quiet corner.

In a secluded alcove, shielded from the rhythmic beats, Sehun, draped in an air of haughty refinement, strolled up to Baekhyun. "Couldn't help but notice that Chanyeol's taken a liking to you. How's the party treating you?"

Baekhyun, caught off guard by Sehun's sudden attention, managed a modest smile. "Feeling a bit like the odd one out tonight to be honest."

Sehun, maintaining his aristocratic air, raised a disdainful eyebrow as he scrutinised Baekhyun's attire. "Well, you're certainly not…well prepared for the occasion."

Baekhyun, sensing the subtle arrogance, glanced at his choice of clothing. "Didn't expect this level of... extravagance."

Sehun, with a condescending smirk, replied, "Consider it a tip for next time. Dress the part. It's rather crucial if you want to run in these circles."

As Sehun gracefully navigated the party, Baekhyun found himself on the fringes of Sehun's exclusive circle, savouring morsels of conversations and glimpses of a more relaxed Sehun.

Driven by curiosity, he approached one of Sehun's friends, masking his interest with an air of casual conversation. "Hey, you know Sehun well?"

The friend, assessing Baekhyun with a hint of curiosity and scepticism, responded, "Yeah, we go way back. What's up?"

Baekhyun, feigning nonchalance, hesitated before delving into his inquiry. "What's his deal?”

The friend, sipping on their drink, chuckled knowingly. "Sehun tends to keep a cool exterior, especially with those outside his circle. But when he loosens up with a few drinks, it's a different story. Lucky for you, he's in a friendlier mood tonight." Hm, If you say so.

Playing the innocent card, Baekhyun probed further with subtlety. "Any idea why he's so fixated on my..clothes?"

The friend, offering a cryptic smile, shrugged casually. "Sehun values appearances highly and tends to scrutinise how people fit into his world. He believes that gaining entry is no casual affair, and not just anyone can seamlessly become part of his trusted circle or the circles of those he holds close."

As Baekhyun processed this revelation, he listened intently to the friend's insight into Sehun's world. Little did he know that this seemingly extravagant night would unravel layers of social intricacies, leaving him on the precipice of the unpredictable twists and turns that awaited him.

At another end of the party, Sehun approached one of his inner circle mates, a trusted confidant who had been with him through thick and thin. "Do you know anything about that guy, Baek..something?"

The friend, glancing at Baekhyun from a distance, replied, "Not much. He's a scholarship student. Almost never seen in social circles. People say he's…middle class."

Sehun, sipping his drink, raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. What's he doing here, then?"

The friend continued, "But here's the twist. One of our friends is in his class, and they say he's like.. a genius. Top of his class. Professor Harrington’s favourite. Got the brains, apparently."

Sehun, absorbing this unexpected revelation, contemplated the incongruity of Baekhyun's presence in the extravagant setting. The information lingered in the air as he continued to observe Baekhyun from afar, wondering what hidden layers lay beneath the surface of the scholarship student.

The night unfolded in a symphony of conversations, music and laughter echoing through Sehun's grand residence. There were semi-nude people sitting around the large oak dining table and playing strip poker. There were wait staff stationed everywhere, making sure the guests were served whatever they wish- drinks, pills and marijuana infused finger foods.

Baekhyun sought refuge on the balcony amidst the swirling haze of smoke and the distant thumps of the bass.

His gaze wandered to Chanyeol, on a mission to be the life of the party, as he was being held upside-down at the keg, while elsewhere, students indulged in various degrees of intoxication. Baekhyun shook his head at the sight of two blokes snorting cocaine off the belly of a naked woman, silently disapproving.

Seeking a reprieve from the clamour, Baekhyun stepped onto the balcony. The cool night air offered a stark contrast to the heat and chaos inside. Lost in contemplation, he was caught off guard when Y/N appeared beside him.

"Hey! You're the guy that helped me out outside the exam hall! I’m so sorry I don’t think I caught your name" Y/N's voice cut through the ambient noise, her eyes sparkling with recognition.

Baekhyun, startled by her sudden presence, managed a sheepish smile. "Baekhyun, Hi! Yeah... I hope your exam went well."

Y/N nodded, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. "I’m Y/N. And it did, all thanks to you. What are you doing out here? The party's inside, you know."

Baekhyun glanced inside and back at her. "Honestly, I’d much rather be listening to my records in the dorm than be in there," he confessed.

Y/N assessed him from top to bottom. "Well, you have to try it to knock it, right?" Before Baekhyun could respond, she grabbed his arm and led him back into the lively gathering.

Inside, Y/N called for attention, her friends turning curious gazes towards Baekhyun. "Hey, everyone! This is Baekhyun. He's the life-saver who helped me out during the exams!"

The group erupted into cheers, and Y/N continued to regale them with the tale of Baekhyun's timely assistance. The sudden attention overwhelmed him, but he couldn't resist the genuine warmth of Y/N's gratitude.

Sehun, observing from a distance, couldn't ignore the commotion. His girlfriend and her friends were fawning over Baekhyun, and his jaw tightened in response. Masking his irritation with a tight-lipped smile, he approached the group.

"What's going on here, my love?" he asked Y/N, his eyes fixed on Baekhyun.

Y/N beamed at Sehun. "Well~Baekhyun here saved the day during the exams. Isn't that amazing?"

Sehun, suppressing his annoyance, forced a smile. "I see. Thanks for helping my girlfriend, Baekhyun," he said, emphasising the possessiveness. "Well, I would definitely say that this calls for more shots." Sehun signalled one of the waitstaff, who promptly brought a tray filled with shot glasses filled with very strong, expensive spirits and liquors and some colourful pills. Sehun pushed a glass and a pink pill into Baekhyun's hands, subtly making sure he joined in on the drinking. The group then clinked their shot glasses and popped the pills on their tongues before downing the shots.

As the shots flowed freely, Baekhyun found more and more drinks being handed to him, and he caught himself in the whirlwind of the ‘celebration’. The alcohol blurred the edges of his consciousness, and Sehun, with a sly grin, continued to encourage him to indulge. By the time the ninth shot was downed, Baekhyun's head was spinning, and he excused himself.

Stumbling through the dimly lit house, Baekhyun approached Sehun for directions to the nearest restroom. Sehun, subtly relieved to be rid of the unexpected party guest, casually pointed him in a random direction.

Alone in the dimly lit hallway, Baekhyun felt the weight of the alcohol hitting him. As he turned a corner, he heard the raucous laughter and clinking glasses behind him. The scene was too much, and he couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling that he was out of his depth.

In his unsteady state, Baekhyun stumbled into an open door, expecting a bathroom. To his horror, he found himself in a room where a bunch of people were having an orgy. One of the guys, clearly high, signalled him to join them while someone else hurled their heel at him to shut the door. Caught off guard, he blurted out an apology and he quickly shut the door.

The embarrassment lingered as Baekhyun tried to regain his composure. The events of the night had taken an unexpected turn, and he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was navigating uncharted territory.

As Baekhyun walked away, he glanced back to see Sehun making a grand show of hugging and kissing Y/N. A twinge of discomfort gnawed at him, but he decided to retreat. Leaving the chaos of the party behind, Baekhyun stumbled back to his dorm, the events of the night replaying in his mind.

After a hasty shower and a violent bout of vomiting, Baekhyun changed into his pajamas. He settled into bed, the room spinning as he drifted into a restless sleep, unaware of the storm that had been set in motion during that fateful night at Oxford.

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ivystoryweaver · 11 months

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Decadent chapter 8

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Summary: A peek into life as friends with Miguel

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara from the film Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse x female reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: cursing, brief reference to sex, mentions of blood, not beta'd.

PREVIOUSLY on Decadent...

Locking eyes with you one more time, he added, "And if you really care about me, help me. I don't want to be like this anymore. I don't want to hurt you anymore."

With that, he left you to your new position in your new office.

The best thing about Miguel "breaking up" with you (not that you were really together) was that you started to think about him only 23 hours a day instead of 24 hours a day.

In all seriousness, you started going out with your neighbor/girlfriend each weekend and made friends with a few co-workers, including a sweet, funny guy named Jackson. You grew accustomed to Lyla guiding you through daily tasks, and best of all, your aunt was planning to visit you soon.

You had expected all manner of awkwardness working with Miguel - be it from that prickly feeling of interacting with an "ex" or from the sexual tension that was prone to drive you wild. Everything continued the same in the lab - the two of you carrying on - as focused and professional as ever. And without returning to his office each afternoon, the temptation to engage in...other activities simply did not present itself. Well, maybe the temptation lingered, but the opportunity had evaporated.

That's not to say Miguel ignored you outside the lab. In fact, he made it a point to speak to you regularly - sometimes showing up at your office door (being sure to linger in the doorway). On the unique occasion he would venture inside, Lyla would surely accompany him.

Kind of like a really sassy chaperone.

Sometimes, when the two of you worked late, he would order food or even bring empanadas as a peace offering - which was where you found yourself tonight, devouring them in the break room.

"Miguel, these are so good," you mumbled, your mouth stuffed full. "Thank you so much - I was starving."

"You're welcome," he returned with a warm smile. Dark strands of his hair fell carelessly over one eye - his waves an unkempt, sexy mess by this hour. "I feel like it's been a while since we sat down like this. I thought maybe I would bribe you."

He winked and your heart did a somersault. Wetting your lips, you tried to keep yourself focused on what he was saying and not the way his muscled forearms flexed as he fed himself - the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. Two or three buttons were unfastened, giving you a generous view of the expanse of his throat and chest.

"You never need an excuse to come see me, you know that," you finally managed, directing your attention back to the delicious food on your plate.

He nodded, taking a sip of his bottled soda. "Still...I don't see you as much as I used to. And I didn't trust myself to invite you over."

Your skin heated up as your eyes went wide.

"Sorry...shit, I'm sorry," he swiftly recovered, pushing his hand through his hair in what appeared to be slight embarrassment. "That wasn't...I'm not trying to - "

"It's okay," you softly returned, tentatively reaching for another empanada. "Sometimes I miss you too."

Eyeing you skeptically, he smirked. "I don't know. I think you just miss me cooking Mexican food for you."

"Miguel, how dare you," you gasped in mock offense. "I also love you for your homemade margaritas."

He laughed out, almost losing the piece of food he was chewing - a rare, not 100% sexy moment for a man like him.

Unfortunately, you found yourself staring at his mouth and then the strong column of his throat as he finished chewing and swallowing his bite.

"Careful. Don't choke," you teased, trying to distract yourself. It wasn't really working, because, aside from wanting to climb his massive body daily, you actually did still have feelings for him.

Which was why you had agreed to go on a date with Jackson. Or...a hangout? Maybe it wasn't a date. You guys were going spend some time together on Friday night.

''I'm okay," Miguel's voice interrupted your thoughts. After a few moments of contented silence, he asked after you.

"How are you doing, really? How's your aunt?" He sincerely queried, his eyes carefully trained on you, alive with warmth and sincerity. It felt good to have his undivided attention.

"She's good. Coming to visit soon. She wants to meet you," you responded, with a wry smile.

"Me?" He pointed innocently to his chest, his eyebrow shooting up. "Am I in trouble?"

You playfully shrugged, your nose crinkling delightedly. "Should you be?"

Narrowing his eyes, he chuckled. "Hopefully not."

The two of you finished your dinner, the synchrony you typically shared in the lab transferring over to the clearing and cleaning of dishes and trash in the break room.

"And what about you, Miguel?" You softly returned. "How are you feeling. Really?"

Noticing you had stopped to watch him carefully, he offered you a smile. "I'm good. I, uh...I've actually been drinking blood bags." Shaking his head, he winced as an errant strand of hair re-claimed the spot across his forehead. "It sounds so weird to say that out loud."

"How is that working for you? Are you...are you sure you're well?"

Noticing the concern shining in your eyes, he decided to be honest. Somewhat. "I feel a little weak, but...you know, I did listen to what you said. About not wanting me to kill anyone else or...bite anyone else. I'm trying."

Something deep within you bloomed to life as he made his confession. You weren't sure what to say because you didn't want to misstep and cause a fight. If Miguel needed to feed, you were more than happy to volunteer, as you had made abundantly clear. But he had pleaded with you not to ask him that again. So you wouldn't.

"I just want you to be okay," you softly admitted, peering up into his crimson eyes as you inched a little closer, but not so near that the heat of him might distract you any further. "I don't want you to do anything that will get you hurt, or sick. And not just for the sake of our research."

"I know," he answered, reaching out to squeeze your arm gently. It was the first touch he'd granted you in weeks.

The two of you finished your tasks and prepared to finish running another test before calling it a night. One he was back in lab-mode, Miguel dropped the personal talk, but he resumed once he started walking you out of the building.

"You know, maybe you should come over sometime," he casually offered, stealing glances at your profile. "I didn't show you the billiard room."

"The billiard room?" You gawked, picking up your pace to match his lengthy strides. "What is this, the Clue board game? You have a billiard room?"

He just smiled at you, amused, his eyes twinkling with a little mischief. "You play pool?"

"I guess," you laughed. "Could be fun."

Nodding determinedly, he pressed on. "All right, how about Friday night? Are you busy?"

Yikes. Date with Jackson. Or hangout with Jackson. Whatever.

"Uh. I am that night, actually. Busy, that is," you vaguely responded, hoping you wouldn't need to elaborate.

"Okay, then Saturday?" His slight insistence surprised and delighted you.

Your Saturday plans were more flexible, but...you did have plans with your neighbor. "Um...well..."

"Ahh, I see. No time for your boss," he kidded, affectionately nudging your much smaller arm with his massive one. "You have a date or something?"

You chomped down on your lip, trying to figure out what exactly to say. You wanted Miguel more than anything, but you were trying to make some sort of a life for yourself after he had rejected you so utterly.

"Wait...you do have a date - don't you?" The smooth timbre of his voice interrupted your musings.

"I have plans with Jackson," you slowly admitted, "to hang out."

Miguel stopped walking, turning to look down at you - his face serious, but otherwise, unreadable. "You have a date with Jackson? The Jackson who works for me? The short guy?" Emotions began to carve themselves onto his chiseled features and burrow their meanings deep into his eyes. One thick eyebrow curved judgmentally upward as the rest of his handsome countenance soured. His lips puckered so cutely, you wanted to kiss them.

"He's not short," you retorted with a chuckle, hoping he was only teasing. "It's just that you're ten feet tall, so everyone is shorter than you."

Placing his hands on his hips, he shifted from foot to foot uneasily. "When did this happen? You and him?"

Transfixed by the sight before you gave you pause. His profound interest in this date made your mind race. "Nothing happened. We're hanging out. I'm just trying to meet some new people."

Dragging his eyes over the curves of your body, Miguel noticed that the talons on his fingers had extended significantly. He had to concentrate to retract them before he shredded his dress pants where his hands rested on his hips.

A war raged inside him. He wanted to stop this before it happened. Maybe he could tell you that office relationships were prohibited - a rule the two of you had obliterated since you met. Maybe he could sweep you into his arms, swing you away from here on his webs, and kiss you. Probably a dick move.

Perhaps he could tell you the truth - that he was starving. That it physically hurt to deny himself blood at your request. That he kept his fangs (and every other part) out of any other woman because you told him you didn't want there to be anyone else, right before the last time he pushed himself inside you.

Or maybe he could say that he missed you - your smile, your laugh - the shit you would give him daily. And your body, writhing on top of him in the office, or falling apart underneath him in bed.

The thought of Jackson touching one hair on your head made his jaw clench with fury as his eyes flashed bright ruby. Perhaps this "date" was innocent, and the two of you would just hang out as friends. But you were beautiful and brilliant, and you knew what you wanted in bed. What was to stop you from enjoying yourself?

Pressing one fang into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, he turned away, running a hand over his face before starting to walk again.

You scurried along after him, trying to ignore the way his eyes traced every curve of your body, his gaze dripping with accusation and a touch of disdain. You kind of wanted to see if he would actually give you shit about this. And you had no doubt he was probably blowing off steam in his own way - if the rumors about his reputation were true.

So, in the rarest turn of events, you decided not to say anything. It would be so easy to pick a fight, challenge him, or act clueless, but that's all it would be - an act. And you were tired of all that shit. You wanted some honesty...and peace.

"I can take you home," he offered, knowing you normally used public transportation.

"No, it's okay, I'm used to it," you neutrally replied. No reason to be in his debt when you were struggling to discern his mood.

"It's late," he reasoned as the two of you made it out the main doors to the car awaiting him nightly. "I would feel better knowing you're safe."

With a nod, you decided to take him up on the offer. It would be a lot quicker, and technically safer than your usual mode of transport. And not only that - honestly, you just wanted to be in his presence for a little longer.

You climbed into the back as Miguel recited your address to his driver. Then he joined you. The leather seats were a lot more luxurious than anything on the train. Glancing around the car, you remembered the last time you were here. You were paralyzed and bleeding. Miguel had ruined you in his office, brutally fucking you three times with you tied down. He drank so much blood that you feared for your safety. Then he took you to his home in this very back seat.

"I hope you have a good time with him," he finally offered, clearing his throat after a long silence. Staring out the window, his jaw tensely shifted.

Turning your eyes over to view his handsome profile you softly sighed. "Thanks."

Feeling your gaze on him, he peered back at you, his eyes momentarily flickering down to your mouth, lingering there indulgently as he wet his own lips with his tongue. The filtered moonlight through the tinted window glass gave him an almost angelic glow.

Drawing a shuddering breath, you waited until his searing gaze met yours once more. Miguel leaned in slightly but was abruptly interrupted by a terribly loud and chittering message from Lyla.

You jerked back, startled, as Miguel quickly silenced his holographic assistant. "Sorry about that," he muttered, facing forward, his chest heaving.

"What was that?" You asked him, wondering why he looked so flustered. Lyla popped in all the time, although, in fairness, this interruption was a tad dramatic - sudden and noisy.

Noticing his jaw clenching again, you wondered if you would get the silent treatment. But he eventually did answer you.

"I programmed Lyla to...make sure I'm not a dick to you."

next->

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#decadent fic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x f!reader #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fic #sm: atsv fic #spider man 2099

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allmoshnobrain · 10 months

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 15 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2546 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

Cliff let out a sigh. “It's just that... We kicked him out of the band.” I just went silent, completely unable to react to that bombshell. This had to be some kind of joke, right? He couldn't be serious. “Clifford,” I managed to speak, my voice shaking in a whisper. “What the hell are you talking about?”

✦ summary: After a wild night of partying, Nore receives shocking news over the phone that will forever change her relationship with Metallica and her friends.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, recreational drug use, drinking

✦ a/n: Hi! I ended up releasing this chapter a little earlier this week than I had planned, but things are gonna become a little bit more complicated in the plot from now on... So I hope you enjoyed it! Feedback is welcome ❤

✧ through the darkest hour, your grace did not shine on me ✧

“Nore, they’re on the phone!” I heard Leanne call me from the living room.

It had been a few days since the guys left, and they were calling for the first time. I was washing dishes and chatting with Leanne in the kitchen when we heard the phone ring, and she rushed to pick it up.

I quickly dried my hands and dashed to the living room.

“Yes, she's right here,” Lea was saying when I arrived. She chuckled softly. “Love you too. I'll hand it over to her, okay? Bye.”

I grabbed the phone from her.

“Hey, Nore.” Cliff's voice came through the line.

“Hey, Cliff,” I said, a smile forming instantly on my face. I couldn't help but grin when I heard his voice; man, I really missed him. “How are you guys doing?”

“Oh, we're good. Lars is still a pain in the ass, Dave and James have already argued like three freakin’ times... You know, same old shit,” he said, and I chuckled softly. “Hey, Dave wants to chat with you. I'll hand it over to him, alright?”

“Sure thing,” My heart raced a little when I heard that, my smile growing even wider. “Catch you later, Cliff.”

“Later, Nore.”

“Hey.” Dave's voice came through the phone seconds later, and I couldn't help but feel all the butterflies in my stomach that I always felt when I heard his voice. Only now it was a thousand times worse, because I couldn’t touch him or kiss him. His voice would have to do for now.

“Hi, Dave. How’s it going?”

“I'm good, and you? Already missing me?” he asked, his voice full of smiles. I chuckled softly.

“You have no idea,” I murmured. “So, how's it going over there?”

He spilled all the details; how they made it safe despite downing loads of drinks during the trip, how they crashed at the producer's house, but trashed it so bad they ended up in some shitty place with almost nothing to eat.

“It's not that bad, but I think it’s best for you that you stayed there,” he said jokingly “It's been kind of crappy, but it'll be worth it. We've got some gigs next week, should be cool.”

“Will you guys be gone for long?”

“Dunno, sweetheart. Probably a little while,” he paused for a few seconds, then said: “Miss you, Nore.”

“Miss you too.” I replied, then joked: “That's why you guys gotta finish this album quick, so we can meet up again, right?”

“Alright, alright.” he chuckled softly. “Gotta bounce now. Rehearsals starting over here... James and Lars say hey.”

“Oh, cool. Have fun, you all.”

“Love you, Nore.”

“Love you too, Dave.”

With that, he hung up, leaving me still yearning for him, his voice not having lessened the ache of missing him at all.

The weekend when everything would change forever kicked off so calmly it made me clueless about what was in store. Things took a detour when Joe showed up at Leanne's place out of the blue, inviting us to another party with a huge grin on his face.

“C'mon, it's gonna be a blast. I promise you'll love it.” he grinned, leaning against the doorframe while lighting a cigarette.

Leanne glanced at him, a slight smile on her face, hands on her hips, and hair tied up in a ponytail. We had planned to spend the weekend cleaning the house since we had no specific plans in mind. But I knew Lea well enough to know that was out the window — she couldn't resist a fun night out.

“Better be worth it, Sinclair,” she chuckled, then teased: “'Cause I'm giving up my cozy house for this, you know?”

“Whatever, drama queen.” he grinned at her, then turned to me. “You're coming too, right, Nore?”

“If you guys are going, count me in.” I said, grinning back at him.

“Awesome!” he jingled his car keys excitedly. “So, hustle up 'cause the party starts in an hour. And I wanna get there early to see if I can offload my... Special goods.”

I raised an eyebrow with a smile, and Leanne and I hurriedly went to change into our party clothes.

The party went down at this fancy guy's house in the suburbs, one of Joe's well-to-do friends. Lea and I didn't really know many people there, but the place was huge, filled with young people like us, all excited and ready to socialize. Joe seemed to be quite popular; everyone was always seeking him out with smiles, looking for his stash of "special stuff." I knew Joe's family had plenty of money, but that didn't stop him from dealing all kinds of drugs at the parties we hit up. Well, he usually covered the tab for drinks and drugs, so no complaints there.

That night, though, he was pushing something different. Leanne and I were already feeling a bit buzzed, enjoying the free drinks at the party, but Joe was focused on his business. I watched curiously as a group of girls walked away from him giggling, and Joe watched them with a grin, counting the money he had just earned.

“Hey, wanna spice things up tonight?” he said, putting his arm around Leanne's shoulders. She glanced at him, a playful smile on her face.

“What are you talking about now?”

“You know, I'm adding some variety to the menu to attract a wider crowd. And this,” he handed a little package to Leanne. I got closer, curious “just arrived. Straight from Colombia, baby. It's all yours if you wanna give it a shot.”

“Hey, is this another one of your tricks to ‘keep your customers loyal’?” Leanne asked. I raised an eyebrow when I noticed the package contained cocaine. Well, there was something I had never tried before. “'Cause I'm already giving you enough money buying weed.”

Joe laughed.

“If I get you addicted to anything, Cliff will murder me. I'm just trying to amp up the party.”

Leanne stared at the package, looking undecided. She looked up at me.

“So, Nore? What do you think?”

I shrugged. As much as I knew Cliff would probably disapprove of it, I couldn't deny that I was curious.

“I won't tell Cliff if you won't.” I looked up at her, an almost mischievous smile on my lips.

“You're a troublemaker, girl.” she laughed. “Alright, let's give this thing a shot!”

I woke up all of a sudden, the sun smacking my face, and this annoying, persistent noise going off non-stop. I frowned, realizing it was already morning, and I found myself crashed on Leanne's living room couch. My mouth was dry as hell, my head was throbbing, and I had no clue how I got there. Last thing I remembered was being at the party – we were pounding drinks like crazy before Joe offered us some cocaine to try. After that, it all turned into a blur of laughter, more drinks, and excitement.

As the annoying noise kept on, I slowly figured out it was the phone ringing. I jumped up to answer it, yelling in surprise when I accidentally stepped on someone. It was Leanne, who was passed out on the floor.

“Ouch,” she groaned, her voice all slurred. “Oh, you're up.”

“What the hell are you doing down there?” I asked, too surprised to think of anything else, noticing how hoarse my voice was and how dry my nose felt. She groaned.

“Taking care of your drunk ass. You threw up, and you were too heavy to haul to bed.”

“What? I don't remember any of that.”

“Yeah, we went nuts this time,” she grumbled. “And what's that damn noise?”

I blinked, realizing the phone hadn't stopped ringing. My mind felt like mush, unable to focus on more than one thing at a time. I got up, being careful not to step on Leanne again, and answered the phone.

“Damn, finally.” Cliff's voice greeted me. I furrowed my brow.

“Well, good morning to you too, Cliff.” I said, and he laughed.

“Hey, Nore. What happened to your voice?”

“I... I got too wasted last night, I think,” I croaked, my voice wobbling. “Hold on, lemme grab some water.”

I rushed to the kitchen, snagged a glass of water, and went back to the phone.

“Alright,” I told him, back on the line, and quickly chugged the glass. “So, how are you guys holding up over there? Everything cool?”

“Well…” Cliff hesitated. “Sort of. And how 'bout you guys?”

“We're okay, just dealing with a hangover,” I furrowed my brow. “But 'sort of'? What happened?”

“Uh, it's just that... Nore, actually, I'm calling to tell you something. It's about Dave…”

“What happened to him?” I felt my heart clench with worry. “Is he alright?”

“I hope so,” Cliff let out a sigh. “It's just that... We kicked him out of the band.”

I just went silent, completely unable to react to that bombshell. This had to be some kind of joke, right? He couldn't be serious.

“Clifford,” I managed to speak, my voice shaking in a whisper. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“He... He bailed on the band.”

“That’s not what you said,” I said, my voice getting louder as I grew more and more nervous. Leanne sat on the floor, giving me a puzzled look, brows all furrowed up, concern all over her face. “You said you kicked him out!”

“Nore, chill out, okay?” he said, with a sigh. “You don't know how bad things got. He caused too much trouble…”

“We always cause too much trouble!” I said, now definitely shouting. “That has never been a reason for anything!”

“Nore…”

“Where is he, Cliff?” I asked, gripping the phone like my life depended on it. “I gotta talk to him!”

“He's not here. We sent him back.”

“When does his flight land?” I asked, already getting ready to sprint to the airport. Cliff stayed silent, and I let out an annoyed grunt. “Cliff, when's he getting here?”

“Well... Actually, we got him a bus ticket.”

“Wait. You sent him back alone on a bus? ” I yelled, furious. Thank goodness I was talking to Cliff on the phone because I swear I'd be capable of physically attacking someone right now.

“Nore, come on. The decision's been made, even though it's a rough one…”

“He's your friend, damn it!” I shouted. “You know what? Fuck off!” I hung up the phone and stormed off to my room.

“Nore, what happened?” Leanne asked, following me, all concerned. I turned around, tears welling up in my eyes.

“They kicked Dave out of the band, Lea,” My voice trembled as I tried my hardest not to cry. “They ruined everything!”

“Hey, it’s alright. Come here.” She came closer and gave me a hug. I sniffed, my eyes welling up with tears. I was so, so worried about Dave, alone, sad and angry on a trip that I knew would drag on for days. It hurt not being able to be with him right now. And it hurt even more that the ones causing all of this were the friends that he and I had learned to call family.

What the hell were we gonna do now?

The final blow to my peace came much later that Sunday night. Leanne and I had ordered pizza for dinner and were watching some random movie together, just hanging out and chatting. I knew she suggested it to cheer me up, and I really appreciated the effort.

When the phone rang, I looked up and jumped to answer it, hoping it might be Dave. I hadn't heard from him yet, and I was just getting more and more worried about him.

“Nore.” a voice greeted me, but my stomach sank when I realized it wasn't Dave. It was James, and I almost felt relieved to hear his voice before remembering I was pissed at all of them.

“James. What's going on?” I asked, coldly. In all the months since we had met, I had never been cold with James. It hurt me, but I was too hurt myself to care.

“Nore…” he said again, and it hit me that he was upset, probably drunk, his words slurred and dragging. It sounded like he was on the verge of tears over the phone. “I'm sorry. Please.”

“What?” I asked, totally caught off guard. I knew James. He never apologized, and he sure as hell didn’t make drunk, almost tearful calls when he messed up. When he was happy, he was very kind, but when he wasn't okay, he became closed off. Monosyllabic. As if he put up a wall and didn't want anyone to try to cross it.

It almost seemed like he was hurting too from Dave being kicked out, but I didn't wanna jump to that conclusion too quickly. I knew him and Lars were the ones calling the shots for the band. So if Dave got kicked out, I could bet it was with James' approval. And that made me furious, but at the same time, I couldn't help but worry about how hurt he sounded.

“Are we still friends?” he asked, his voice almost desperate. “Or do you hate me now?”

“James, I don’t… I don’t hate you.” I answered, my chest tight with heartache. “But this… Why did you do this to him? He is your friend. I thought…”

“No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t know how- Nore, I don’t know what we’re gonna be without him. But we had to, Lars said we had to and I… I believe him.”

“Well, fuck Lars.” I groaned.

“He knows what he’s doing, Nore.”

“Well then fuck you too.” My voice got louder and I frowned. This was so frustrating and it made me so, so angry. How could they do that to Dave? How could they do that to us ?

“No, no, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” he answered, genuinely sounding like he was on the verge of tears.

“He is your friend, James. What are we gonna do now?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t want you to hate me.”

“I told you I don’t hate you.” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. This wasn’t fair. I didn’t want to hurt James, but I knew how much their decision would have hurt Dave. And I couldn’t bear to think about him, alone and sad and angry, betrayed by the only true friends he ever knew. “But we’re family, James. This was his dream too.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he said, sounding angry for just a moment before his voice broke again. “Fuck, Nore. Everything’s a mess without you here. Miss you like hell.” he blurted, and my heart raced at his tone; hushed, heavy, like a confession that was too much to be kept in the dark. Like things he would never say in daylight, if he were sober and we weren’t miles and miles apart. “I’m so fucking selfish because I fucking miss you. You should be here. With me.”

He then hung up, leaving me speechless in the dark, my heart racing as I tried to process what I had just heard.

#hello hello hello it's heartbreaker day!!#ada writes fanfiction #heartbreaker fanfic #metallica #megadeth #james hetfield #dave mustaine #cliff burton #lars ulrich #metallica fanfiction #dave mustaine x oc #dave mustaine fanfiction #nore burton (oc)#dave mustaine x reader #james hetfield x oc #james hetfield x reader

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