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pedgito · 2 years ago

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𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter One: Decisions

[strangers to friends to lovers, age gap (56/mid 20s), forced proximity, no outbreak]

(Series) Content Warning: a very, very lonely joel miller. copious amounts of lusting, tension, joel is an excellent cook (food, alcohol, ect), hot tubs, impromptu snowball fights, awkward situations, deep talks and tragic backstories (specified within chapter warnings, deeply depraved smut/sexcapades and the inappropriate use of a dining table (also specified within chapter warnings), nicknames of endearment (no use of y/n)

Chapter Summary: The night of your arrival is anything but what you expected, realizing that not only was your cabin double-booked but the unexpected guest is more than willing to leave you stranded to savor his peace. A handful of stubborn talks and a big decision later, you realize that Joel might not be that much of a stranger at all.

Chapter Warnings: (7.2k) no outbreak, grumpy!Joel, fem!reader, weapons of convenience, reader being mesmerized but how handsome Joel is, copious amount of lusting, book talks, age gap, Joel has secrets, reader has a difficult relationship with family, two beds (but that won't last)

You should feel terrible about this. Distraught. Riddled with a crippling sadness over a lie that grew from your own selfishness. But, there’s nothing but tremendous relief as you shove your things into the trunk of your Uber and crawl into the backseat, starting the three hour drive into the deep Piney Woods of Texas.

You should feel horrible.

But, the silence is nice. You’re especially thankful that your driver wasn’t a people person at all, pointedly avoiding any communication outside of a greeting. It feels business-like, transactional. You couldn’t be bothered with the niceties and cheerfulness that surrounded the holidays. It made you sick to your stomach, chewing on your bottom lip without a thought in your mind as you inch closer. A three hour drive turns into two, falling asleep somewhere along the way, only waking up fifteen minutes away, somewhere along a rocky drive down a scenic, winding road that pulls a beautiful cabin into view.

It was lit up, decorated like a fucking christmas tree.

You grimaced slightly, but despite that, it was still everything you expected. It wasn’t too large or spacious, you wouldn’t feel so alone out here for the few weeks you were planning to stay and it wasn’t too cramped either. You felt if you uttered the word perfect it would turn into a jinx, so you kept yourself together and dragged yourself out into the cold, frigid air when the car pulled to a stop. The driver helped you with your bags, you remember to leave him with a big, gracious tip that left him more than satisfied, and he was on his way without a word.

You took a big breath, expanding your lungs and breathing in the fresh air. You didn’t feel suffocated here, something you noticed immediately. It wasn’t because of the lack of city pollution. Dragging your bags up the steps are a challenge, but you manage even with the rickety wheel that snags on a chipped piece of brick, unlocking your phone to remember the code that the owner had sent you earlier that morning, fumbling until your fingers came to life and pressed the code into the lock, a satisfying click of relief in the mechanism and you turned the doorknob.

Finally.

The heat blasts your face like a furnace, thawing out your limbs as you move quickly, efficiently and with too much urgency to escape the nighttime cold. You don’t notice much at first, among the amenities that came with the cabin, a fresh bottle of wine on the table and a note tucked under, something you would guzzle down sometime later. There was a fire going, low and crackling—seems unsafe, but what the hell did you know? It had to be the owners, assuming they came out earlier in the day in preparation for your arrival.

There’s blankets littered throughout, draped over the back of a couch, dark and covered in an unseemly plaid pattern, another stack of smaller blankets placed on a nearby cushion. Freezing to death seemed to be their immediate concern, obviously. You wandered aimlessly in the dark, scoping out both a light switch and the kitchen, noticing the stock of food, things that wouldn’t perish easily, probably for emergencies, but things are even more interesting as you approach the fridge, bathed in the fluorescent light as you look at the also stocked fridge, not fully, more sparsely, like someone who couldn’t decide on what to eat or maybe only cooked one meal a day. It’s then when a thought dawns on you that feels impossible, a lingering suspicious as your eyebrows pull into a taut line, fanning over the marble slab of counter-space, eyes landing on the window that hung over the kitchen sink behind a wretchedly patterned curtain, spotting the old truck parked outside the back of the cabin.

Your mind filters through a thousand and one reasons on why it would be there, but whatever is there in your mind is quickly snuffed out by the creaks of rickety floorboards and a hall light flickering on in the distance behind you—you reach and ultimately fumble for anything nearby to use as a weapon, landing on the single-most deadly thing in your line of sight that you can grasp quickly. There’s a knife block a few feet away and it’s the only plausible thing your brain can think of in a panic, unsheathing and turning on your heels to the person standing several feet away.

He is large, you can tell as much. Still mostly covered by the shadow of darkness that blanketed the rest of the cabin, you could make out the scruff of some facial hair, his tall stature, and the axe he gripped by the neck.

A fucking axe.

You were, no doubt, about to be murdered. It was the only thought on your mind, because despite the hard grip on the handle of the knife, you were no match.

But, then he speaks.

“Got about ten seconds to start explain’ what the hell you’re doin’ in this cabin.” As expected, his voice left little room to argue—but you had paid to be here. Fucking paid. You had every right.

Fuck this guy.

You grip the knife a tighter, knuckle-white grip as you raise it in a feeble attempt to seem threatening, “I booked this place for a month, I’ve got the front door code—who the fuck are you?”

You’re surprised that it works, but the rigidness in the stranger’s shoulder relaxes slightly and the butt of the axe hits the floor as he rests against an adjoining wall.

“Don’t think none of that matters,” He replies with a reverence of annoyance as he flicks on a nearby light and illuminates the living area of the cabin—shit, that’s where it was? Part of you was glad you hadn’t found it, wondering if he had been waiting in the shadows since you stepped inside the cabin, “you need to drive back into town and explain the mix up.”

Drive back? A fucking mix up?

“No.” It’s a steady answer, no quiver in your voice. You lower the knife, but it’s still held tightly at your side. And as the stranger steps into clearer view, you can’t help but memorize his face.

You know, in the case that you might need to describe it to the police if you weren’t already dead by then.

It’s almost unfair how threatening he looks without trying and yet somehow, irreverently handsome. It feels like a silly thought to have, but you weren’t blind. He’s older, much older than yourself. Hardened features, a sharp jawline covered with a thicker beard kept trimmed but still patchy in spots, face worn with worry. He was undoubtedly human and vulnerable, just like you. You can’t see much about his stature beside his height and tanned skin, muddled out by his pajamas, though he seems like he probably does some heavy lifting.

And meanwhile, your staring is noticed. He remains several feet of distance but his eyebrow quirks upwards slightly, arms crossing over his chest and—oh. He is the last person you would want to spar in a fight, biceps pulling taut and bulging slightly.

“Sure you didn’t book the other cabin down the way?” He sounds like he’s questioning a child, such a ridiculous mistake to make.

Oh, how could you be so stupid?

There was no mistaking which cabin you booked, because obviously, the other one was already booked out. This one wasn’t.

At least, it wasn’t supposed to be.

“Look,” The knife clatters against the counter and his eyes track it before averting back to you, “I get that you probably think this is some mistake on my part and whatever grumpy attitude you have, I also get it,” You really fucking did, feeling the beginnings of your blood boil with frustration, “I booked this trip two months ago, I triple checked the address, the owners sent me the door code yesterday morning. There is no way I booked the other cabin.”

He doesn’t even flinch, not a muscle. He’s unconvinced, unamused, and rearing on the edge of throwing your bags out himself just to get you out of here.

“Jesus, fuck—” You rip your phone from your coat pocket and flip through your apps until you land on the email full of information, booking address, dates, and all, and slide the phone across the counter, because despite his willingness to kick you out on your ass, the murderous aspect subsided the moment he dropped the axe.

Now, he just seemed like an asshole.

He approaches slowly, eyeing the phone skeptically before making it seem diminutive in his grip, squinting moderately as he brought the phone closer and looked, expression dropping by the millisecond as the realization settled in. And you start to feel triumphant, like you might’ve actually won the argument. There was still one problem at hand.

He was still here. You were still here.

And neither of you were going anywhere.

So, instead of trying to compromise, he doubles down.

“I was here first.”

“You’re fucking kidding me?” In a world of assholes, he was their all triumphant leader, “It’s below freezing, I Uber’d three hours to get out here, and I have no service. I’m not leaving.”

This, ultimately, had to be your worst nightmare. Double-booking? In the middle of the woods with a complete stranger who obviously had some murderous tendencies if his first instinct was to grab a goddamn axe? And no service?

“You didn’t drive here?” It’s the only thing he asks, bypassing everything else.

“You know, I think I just said I didn’t.”

“You had someone drive you three hours out in the woods with no way of transportation anywhere for,” He takes a second glance at your phone, noting the booking dates, “four weeks?”

Admittedly, it was done on a whim. You hadn’t thought out the fine details, but you knew there was a small store a few miles north that was run by a nice old lady that provided to some of the people who did live out in these woods year round. It was the one thing the owners had added as an addition to the obvious plus of the cabin being so secluded. Plus, the cabin was stocked with some food, or at least, it was.

You wanted no contact. But, obviously you weren’t going to get that.

“Kinda part of the whole getting away for the holidays memo,” You reply sarcastically, “I would’ve managed, mind you.”

Maybe. You would’ve figured it out eventually, but that didn’t matter. Things weren’t going as planned now. You interject again, crossing your arms to match his stance briefly before throwing your arm out flippantly as you waved a hand toward the untraversed hallway.

“This place has two bedrooms, doesn’t it?”

A two bed, one bath cabin. You remembered that much.

He clears his throat, “Yeah.” He sounds so foreboding it makes you ache with an anxiety you had tried so hard to escape from.

“And seein’ as you’re here alone,” You didn’t need to make any assumption otherwise, he seemed like the lonely type, “and I’m here alone—I’m staying.”

“For the night.” He corrects, “Then I can drive you into town tomorrow morning and you can get your refund and find a ride home.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, snatching your phone off the counter and stowing it away in your pocket again, finally taking the steps to bypass him and reach for your bags.

The thing was—you weren’t leaving. If there was anything to be learned about you, it was how undoubtedly stubborn you could be. This cabin was just as rightfully yours as it would be anyone else who paid for the time. It was money you had worked to save up, money you had shoveled out to secure yourself a relaxing holiday and it wasn’t about to be ruined.

His voice startles you as he, somehow, had moved closer without you noticing. He was reaching for your bags too, because despite his grumpiness, he was still that guy—of course.

“Don’t. Touch.” You glance at him with a warning, which he takes, thankfully. He retracts and lingers briefly as he snuffs out the fire before he returns to his own room, you can only assume.

And even if you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, you still barricade your door that night, suitcase stacked on suitcase, bag on bag, and you’re almost sure he can hear it if he’s still awake. You hope he does.

But, when your head hits the pillow, all tucked away in the bed that would become yours for the next month, you immediately fall asleep despite the lingering threat outside your door.

It all feels like a horrible dream until your eyes open the next morning and again, you’re here.

Then there’s a lingering smell of bacon, breakfast cooking in the distance and the house is warm, inviting, welcoming. Damn.

Fine. You were curious. Still annoyed, but not as much after a night of sleep. You could approach this at a different angle, with a better attitude and maybe work something out with the stranger outside of your bedroom.

You stretch your limbs until the protest and steady on your feet, wrapping one of the spare blankets at the end of the bed over your shoulders and around your body as you trudge toward the living area, connected kitchen off to the side as you round the corner of the hallway.

Your eyes settle on his back first, thankful he doesn’t immediately lock eyes with you when you enter—his muscles stretch as he fiddles with something on the stove, shoulder blades pulling inwards as he shakes the pan gripped in his right hand, still dressed in his clothes from the night before and his hair mussed up in the back from sleep and it feels odd to admire him for a moment, but you really can’t help it.

There was a time when you’d scold yourself, but a lifetime of horrible boyfriends and even worse hook-ups, you knew that you had needs and feelings and you weren’t the type to ignore them or make excuses. Whoever he was, whatever his name may be, he was handsome. It was the first thing you thought about last night, despite the presence of possible murder, and it was the only immediate thing on your mind at the moment.

It had been months. You were giving up a little lee-way to feel bad for yourself.

But, then he’s speaking and it startles you to near death.

“Mornin’.” He greets with a reverence you are not expecting. He sounds relaxed.

The fucker sounds relaxed. Like he hadn’t tried to kick you out on your ass the night before. Your face pulls up in a disgruntled scrunch and you have the gamble to look confused. Because, yeah. This was not the person you met last night—given you were technically an intruder in his mind.

Maybe he wasn’t a complete asshole after all—No. Nope. You barely know him.

“You gonna keep starin’ or eat some breakfast?” He asks a little less polite, but it’s rude enough to elicit a response. Because, yes—you were starving.

So, stare and eat.

You take a seat at the barstool tucked under the island and assess the field, a mix of simple breakfast items: pancakes, eggs, bacon, toasts with varying levels of char, and a small bowl of mixed berries.

This feels…a little too much. But, you dig in with a ferocity that stomps out any current concern.

“Look–” He starts after a long bout of silence, having turned off the burner and beginning to assemble his own plate.

“If this is an apology breakfast for being a complete asshole,” You shake your head, cheeks puffed with the fluffiness of a pancake, slathered and drowned in syrup a few berries swimming in the pooled up sugary mess as you forked them and stuffed them in alongside, “apology accepted. Forgiven. Whatever.”

You couldn’t be bothered to care at that moment. You’d stood your ground, you weren’t leaving.

“It’s…not.” He eventually manages to say, interrupted by your schpiel, cutting his way through his eggs before forking a piece into his mouth, chewing slowly, “Look, I didn’t want send you off with an empty stomach, might not be great at this,” He waves a vagrant hand—Oh, so…talking to people, being accommodating, this last could drag on and on and—”but it’s not your fault, I guess.”

“It’s not,” You quickly retorted, the space between your brow scrunched into a permanent scowl at this point, “are you—You’re still trying to kick me out? No….no.”

“I was here—”

“First, yeah. I heard you last night.”

And part of you hears the echoing of your mother, that pestering and insisting tone she carried.

“Try new things, sweetheart. Meet someone. You never know what will happen.”

Of course, that didn’t apply to complete strangers. She meant it in the context of: find a nice boy, date him, marry him, and give her grand-babies. You were never going to be that person.

You tried. Hard. Dated for a year, then two, and that ended in a mess of tears. You hated thinking about the effort you attempted to put into a relationship that was doomed from the beginning. You both ended up at different colleges and it was all for naught. And through college, you swore off boyfriends, slept around, and it was easier. But, it was less than exciting.

In fact, it was boring.

But regardless, the sentiment stuck around. You weren’t trying to trick this man into falling in love with you, but you weren’t going to let him displace you on a holiday vacation.

Screw this guy.

“This cabin has two bedrooms and plenty of space. I booked this place until the end of the month and I’m not giving it up,” You state matter-of fact, “You’re not driving me back into town and you’re not going to boss me around like you have some authority over me. I don’t even know you.”

The man seems speechless for a moment, chewing silently at his breakfast.

That was exactly what he assumed would happen—that he could, basically, command you into leaving. Thankfully, you didn’t do well with authority.

“Actually, how do I know you aren’t some squatter?” You ask suddenly, fork clanking against the plate as it falls, “Why don’t you show some proof that you paid to be here?”

It shouldn’t surprise you when he reaches for his own phone, taking his sweet, sweet time to scroll until he finds the proof and slots the phone your way. It doesn’t surprise you. You only wanted the proof.

But, you can’t help the way your eyes bug out when you read the dates, matching up almost perfectly with your own, give or take a few days—which is why he arrived before you. He was here until the day after Christmas, just like you.

Your luck, of course.

You slid the phone back toward him and pushed your plate aside, thankfully full up on breakfast, but still frustrated. Things weren’t supposed to go this way. It was supposed to be a month away, a month of seclusion. But, that obstacle was standing opposite of you.

You sigh heavily, shrinking under your blanket and burying your head into cupped hands, digging the heels of your palms in until you see stars, coming up for air only after the plates start to clink against each other from movement.

“Okay,” You take a breath, lifting your head slowly, “I’m guessing you came out here to be alone,” It’s only an assumption, but it seems glaringly obvious, “so did I. So, how about we just do our best to avoid each other?”

“Seems kinda hard,” He argues, “seeing as we’re under one roof.”

“Well, we eat together. Or we don’t at all. I don’t need you cooking meals for me—but outside of that or just some occasional passing by, we don’t have to talk.”

It wasn’t a well-thought-out plan, but…

You’ve had enough roommates to have mastered this skill by now. Just because you were under the same roof as someone didn’t mean you had to get along, though it was ideal. It was a month. You could manage.

Keep your things locked away, doors locked too, always keep your guard up, live the entire vacation with the lingering thought that maybe he might have underlying murderous tendencies—and guessing by the even blanker look on his face as he examines you, your mind really starts to wonder.

“Fine.” He agrees.

Wait.

“You’re serious?”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re givin' me much of a choice.”

You smile triumphantly, a little too eager to gloat.

“Unfair, isn’t it?”

You couldn’t resist. And you brace for a rigid retort, some grumble under his breath. But, it never comes.

Instead, he chuckles. It’s so slight you almost miss it, but his chest shakes with a silent laughter before he’s returning to his neutral state and shaking his head in disbelief.

“Must be used to gettin’ your way.” He’s eyes flick up, hands buried into the dishwater he’s managed to start up under the rumble of conversation—there’s definitely something there, a glint in his eyes.

You feel like you’re imagining things. You definitely were.

“Not at all, actually.” You contradict, tapping a lone finger against the countertop, “So—can I ask your name? Seein’ how we’re going to be around each other for the next…month.” It feels unreal as it rolls off your tongue.

A month with a total stranger. Perfect idea.

“Joel.” He answers simply. You have to take his word for it. But, you don’t sense a lie. You respond with a polite utterance of your own name and that closes the conversation out.

You watch in silence as Joel cleans, his pointed wandering around the kitchen, a purpose behind his steps as he moves. He’s so…broad. So large.

Much larger than any man you’ve come to know, or seen, really. You blame it on the fact that college boys were just that…boys. They weren’t men. Not like Joel.

He carried it in his voice, his demeanor, the age on his face that worked—and so well, at that. You never had a reason to look at men, older men. The type that would complain about you being half their age, how you reminded them of their own daughter. You would wretch away in disgust and flee a million miles in the other direction.

But, Joel. He wasn’t like that at all. He hadn’t given you a reason to think otherwise—and here you were, lusting over someone you knew nothing about. Pathetic.

“Starin’ ain’t polite,” He chides, no malice in his tone but it pulls you away from your quickly fleeting, depraved thoughts, “parents never teach you that?”

“I never listened much,” You shrug, but there’s an urge to apologize given the close quarters and conditions you were agreeing to live under for the next few weeks, “and it’s a bad habit, sorry.” It feels a little less than sincere, but Joel takes it with no issue.

But, there’s a sight you don’t catch as you retreat back to your own room.

Because Joel—his eyes follow you the entire way, wondering just how much of a mess he wrapped himself up in when he agreed.

—

Your eyes dry up with how long you’ve stared at your phone screen, staring at the small letters that spell out No Service and huffing out a small sigh as you rolled over in bed, shifted to find a comfortable spot…nothing.

You shift again, still not good enough.

This was going to be a nightmare if you secluded yourself in the bedroom, cooped up on a bed that, while decent, wasn’t your own.

Maybe booking this trip was a terrible idea.

You shouldn’t have lied to your parents about your reasoning for a spur of the moment trip to the deep woods of Texas—even though you had booked it out weeks in advance.

And that you were taking the trip with a boy that didn’t exist, which was a bigger lie to add to the already rapidly growing web you’d weaved.

“You don’t know him,” You’d told her, “I’m not ready to introduce him.”

Because, really—how the fuck were you supposed to introduce someone who didn’t exist?

You sit with a defeated jolt and reach for one of your bags, the only one filled with things that weren’t absolute necessities. Mostly books, a music player, stuff that would, hopefully, keep you busy if you got bored while you were here alone.

Alone was a foreign concept now.

Somewhere in the fog of thoughts you find a book, covered tattered from years of wear, years and years of rereads that never got old.

You could make yourself disappear somewhere on the couch in the living room, but not stuffed into a corner in a bedroom when you had an entire house at your expense.

Joel wouldn’t even know you were there.

—

Joel wasn’t even here.

When you step out into the hall, floorboards creaking underneath your weight, the silence otherwise is deafening. You traverse further, his bedroom door shut tight.

Well, maybe he had the same idea you originally did, tucking yourself away into your room. You shrug to yourself and continue the path to the couch, noting that Joel had started another fire. The cabin was well-insulated but it was a nice touch, the soft crackling of the burning wood and kindling, the feel—it was very…appropriate.

You settle into the cushion and finally feel that little slice of comfort you were searching for, feet curled up somewhere beside you with a blanket draped over your lap, book flipped open to the beginning.

This felt perfect. Or close to it. You tried to ignore the fact that you weren’t alone, not at all. But, it was damn near close.

And the peace lasts, for an hour, that is.

Turns out, Joel did leave.

To where? No clue. But, he comes in with snow covered boots and a heavy winter coat, cheeks flushed pink and the ghost of his breath appearing in front of him as he stomps his feet out on the doormat. He closes the door before you can offer a protest his way, removing his winter gear layer by layer…

You force your eyes away, rereading the paragraph you were on a few times before you find your place again and continue through the story, face buried in the book as you raise it slightly, left arm slung over the back of the couch as you lick the index finger on your right hand, flipping the page.

Ignore him. It was easy.

But somewhere along the way, Joel appears closer.

“Lord of the Flies?” He looks bemused, puzzled, shocked. Like an expression of—Really? You?

You return the look, even stranger as you tilt the book away from him, noticing the way his hand grips his winter gloves in a tight grasp, eyes shooting up to his face.

“Yeah.” It’s a simple answer, nothing to elaborate about.

He could read—fucking fantastic.

His eyebrows raise in disbelief, but it doesn’t feel antagonizing. “Remember readin’ that when I was young,” He comments, “still holds up?”

“I’d say so,” You respond, offering him the attention he wasn’t inadvertently asking for, “why?”

Joel seems so…lonely. From a glance, at least. He’s got a sadness around his eyes that you never noticed until he had approached you so closely. He was only a few inches away from the back of the couch, just out of reach, and he sways a little on his feet like he favors one leg over the other and he hangs his head ever so slightly.

You weren’t here to question him or even attempt to know him, really—but you can’t help it.

“Just curious,” He settles on, “can’t remember the last time I sat down and read a book, really. Don’t think I’d have the patience for it now either, but y’know…”

You didn’t.

He looks like he wants to say more, but he settles for silence. And, it doesn’t feel weird this time. He retreats a moment later, footsteps echoing throughout the cabin before the question comes to mind, retching itself out of your mouth before you have the consciousness to stop it.

“Wait, how old are you?” You ask curiously, attempting the math on your fingers, back and forth, eyes squinting in confusion as the book falls over your lap and your turn to catch a final glimpse of him.

“Kid, you’re gonna hurt yourself thinkin’ that hard.” Joel jokes lightly, something you haven’t seen before, but then he answers simply, “Fifty-six.”

Oh. Huh.

You nod slowly in response before turning away, burying your head back into the book in an attempt to avoid whatever look comes your way. The click of a door is a sigh of relief as you stop reading entirely, resting the book against your lap as you take a moment.

The snow was falling heavily, blanketing the ground with inches of fluffy white. It beckons the question of why Joel would even traverse out in this weather—or why he would’ve subjected you to this had he forced you back into town and back in a car to the city.

He must’ve liked his loneliness too and here you were, wrecking those plans like he had wrecked yours.

But, maybe this was a good thing.

Maybe you had saved Joel from his own loneliness, unknowingly.

And maybe he had saved you too.

—

As the night winds down, separate dinners aside after Joel allowed you free pickings of whatever was in the kitchen that he brought along with him, you find that the bottle of wine still remained unopened, the note addressed to no one in particular.

Not you or Joel. It was fair game and you’d won.

By now, the sun is long gone and the only light that came through the windows were the twinkling bright lights that hung outside and the flush, orange glow of the never waning fire, like a constant reminder of Joel’s presence in the house. He refreshed it every few hours and you watched as he did so, hunched over as he knelt, sleeves bunched up around his elbows and sometimes shifting completely onto his knees as he replaced the logs or waded up some extra paper to toss in.

You eye the bottle curiously—it was nothing special. A store bought Chardonnay that tasted good enough to enjoy, but it wasn’t something to brag about. If it could get you drunk, it was worth a million bucks.

You rummage around the kitchen until you find an appropriate glass—something wide, deep, and refillable. The tip of the bottle clinks against the glass as you pour, teeth biting as the inside of your cheeks as you decide that…mmm, no, just a little more.

“Bottle ain’t runnin’ from ya.” Joel comments, again to your surprise and it makes you jump, hard. Hard enough that a splash of spirits dampens the front of your shirt and you scowl in the older man’s direction.

“Stop doing that,” You're more than serious, deadly serious. At least, you try to be.

Unfortunately, you’re not at all as threatening as you think you appear to be. And Joel has a glass dangling from his own fingertips, only a sip left of dark brown liquid and you surmise that he had the same idea. A nightcap before bed.

Or, in your case, half a bottle of Chardonnay.

Joel deposits the glass into the sink silently, ignoring how you aggressively dab the front of your shirt with a hand towel to soak up some of the alcohol, like it wasn’t his fault. Inadvertently.

“Are you always that jumpy?” Joel asks after a minute or so, lingering around the edge of the island, tired eyes and even more tired pull of his lips, not quite a smile, not much of a scowl either.

“Forgive me for being a little on edge,” You retort with a sass that, quite frankly, is unwarranted. But, you’re feeling snarky and the moment calls for it, “I’m rooming with a strange man who greeted me with an axe.”

“If I recall, you pointed a knife at me all the same,” Valid point, pointless argument to make against you, though. “And weren’t you the one who put your foot down about stayin’ here?”

Yes, you did.

There’s too long of a silence because, really, you aren’t sure how to cut the tension—and maybe it was one-sided, but you couldn’t help but still retain some anger, some jealousy that you weren’t here alone.

“Alright, so maybe we can’t ignore each other like you want,” Joel explains, in reality it does seem impossible, but you had been hopeful, “doesn’t mean you have to scamper like a cat when you see me.”

Your bottom lip pulls in between your teeth before you’re pressing the glass to your lips and taking a hearty sip, steadfast in your silence.

Joel face contorts in thought, like he’s trying to think out his next few words careful, rubbing a hand through his scruff, speckled with patches of gray throughout, a particular spot just below his ear that his thumb reaches, just at the hinge of his jaw and he rubs.

And, you’re staring again.

Joel doesn’t say anything this time if he does clock it.

“I came out here same as you, enjoyin’ my time alone.” Joel explains, feeling the deep timbre of his voice as he speaks, “I don’t have any intention of tryin’ to hurt you, nothin’ like that. Let’s just…be cordial.”

Even if that meant faking it.

Though, there’s a sincerity to Joel when he speaks that strikes, not often found with the people you’ve met in your life. And you know why you’re being so bitter, so abrasive and biting, but that resolves softens slightly,

Maybe it was the Chardonnay.

When had you finished off the glass?

“Cordial?” You repeat, echoing the sentiment.

“Yeah,” Joel nods, trying to offer up a different definition, “Friendly, polite.”

It’s clear that even despite his aura of loneliness, he seemed to deal with strangers often. You were a stranger to him. It wasn’t the first thing that struck you, so worried about your own safety that you had snuck into his idea of his own territory, now that territory was being shared.

“No, I know what cordial means,” You reply flippantly, a little jaded by the gesture that he felt he needed to explain, “—I just, I was gonna offer you a drink then.”

Even though he very obviously already had his fill of what you can only surmise was bourbon, noting a bottle shoved away on a nearby alcohol designated shelf.

“A gesture,” You lay the sweetness on thick and Joel rolls his eyes half-heartedly, seeing right through you, “of—good faith, I guess. We can forget we were ready to murder each other last night and start fresh.”

“Darlin’, m’not much of a wine man.”

Darlin’. That was new.

You start to realize that when the sun goes down, his regional accent thickens up, forced out by exhaustion but it’s nice, comforting almost. It reminds you of back home, despite your lack of enthusiasm of being around your family, it gives you the hope that maybe you and Joel aren’t all that different from each other.

“Then, just sit.” You shrug, nodding toward the small table for two squished in the corner of the alcove, right beside a cushioned seat buried in the shape of the hexagonal wall, window view as far as your eyes could reach, distance buried in a thick bush of trees but if you squint hard enough, you can see another cabin off in the distance. The cabin you should’ve booked, but couldn’t.

Maybe this was your own personal reckoning.

Much to your surprise, Joel does take a seat.

When you’re both finally seated, comfortable, you ask the first question:

“Where are you from?” You ask curiously.

Forward, that’s for sure. Joel could respect it, but still has a reaction to remain taken aback.

“Come on, you can lie and I wouldn’t know any better,” You remind him, “fine, I’m from Austin, born and raised.”

Joel’s chin hits his sternum as he chuckles, looking away briefly off into the distance and you laugh a little in response, confused.

“What? Is that funny or something?”

“No, no—I’m…I’m also from Austin,” He admits, the likelihood not impossible but it is surely a fucking coincidence, “lived there my whole life.”

Well, maybe you’ve crossed paths before, but Austin was a big city and it seemed unlikely.

Your eyes narrow, attempting to read him. It’s more of a gag at your expense, watching as he looks just as skeptical of you, brown eyes examining your face as intently as he could. You have to ignore the feeling to shrink under his gaze, intense and all-encompassing, it feels suffocating, but not in a way that makes you want to escape.

It wasn’t like that at all. In fact, it was welcoming. Like a safety blanket. He blinks once, twice, speaks when things grow awkward—

“I’m not…lyin’,” Joel admits, “that isn’t a lie.”

“You’re not supposed to tell me, Joel.”

Joel cracks a half-smile, wrestling with the aching joints in his hands as he squeezes his hands together, hands that have been through things, surely: hard work, years of labor, covered with small scars from burns and scrapes, you can only assume.

“The whole idea is that…we don’t know each other. We aren’t going to see each other after this,” You tell him, curled up in the chair, wine glass resting on your knee and a fist nudged up under your chin, “you could tell me your deepest, darkest secrets and it wouldn’t matter because I’m not supposed to know if you’re lying or not.”

“So, if I ask you what someone like you is doin’ out here during the holidays instead of where you should be—with family or kids your age, what’ll you tell me?” Joel asks curiously, taking the bait and returning it with a challenge.

You have no reason to tell the truth. But, you also don’t have a reason to lie.

“My family is suffocating.” You shrug indifferently, “They helicopter my life and I didn’t want to face it this Christmas, so I fed them some story and booked a trip out here for the month.”

His eyes soften and you have to hide your reaction behind a sip of your wine, knowing that any sympathy sent your way was not welcomed. You didn’t want it or need it.

“Am I allowed to ask about the story?” Joel questions.

It’s almost surprising, seeing him suddenly interested in your game.

You giggle quietly to yourself, lips pressed against the wine glass before you pull it away briefly.

“They think I’m out here with a super secret boyfriend that I refuse to introduce to them.”

He can see how cheeky you’re being about the whole thing, seemingly relishing in the enjoyment of torturing your parents. You’ve got your eyes on him too, staring at him again. He’s noticed it one too many times.

Dangerous. It’s dangerous. Again, he doesn’t stop you.

His breathing is calm, solid—he’s settled in his seat and relaxed, something you haven’t had the chance to witness. Joel is so…normal. It reminds you that in any other circumstance, if you had met him at a store or somewhere in town, that you wouldn’t spare him a second glance. He’s handsome, sickeningly so. But, you would’ve passed him up without a thought. He would’ve done the same.

For…different reasons, perhaps.

But, these were special circumstances.

You note how his hair is probably a little outgrown, curling around his ears and a deep, deep brown. Almost black but not quite. He doesn’t seem like a guy who styles his hair, allows it to lay how it pleases and doesn’t fuss much over his looks. But, the longer you look, the more mesmerizing he becomes. There’s a tan line on his wrist from what you can only assume is a watch, but he isn’t wearing it now—he must work in the sun, noting the way he’s sunkissed on just about every other part of his exposed body, up to the beginnings of scruff that starts below his chin, near his neck. His toned arms that could definitely swing an axe without a problem. You don’t linger on his legs for even a second, knowing that even for you it would be too far. But, he crosses them at the thought, like a cue—or a tease. Was he….

No.

You continue idly, trying to mask yourself like you were lost in thought, tracing a finger around the lip of the wine glass, “If they knew the truth, they’d shit themselves all the same.”

Joel chuckles softly, a low grumble that is barely audible.

“Spendin’ your Christmas with an old man, half your age. I’m sure that’ll comfort ‘em well.”

He never asked, only assumed. But, basing it off your evident naivety, he couldn’t be far off.

“Eh..give or take a couple years.” You shrug, resting the glass on the table and crossing your arms. “They’ve always treated me like a kid, always questioning my decisions. I just wanted one holiday without it. Without…anything, really.”

Joel looks away, like the thought of that stings him, burrows at him in a different way. You want to ask, but refrain, no matter how strong the urge.

“Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’.”

And there it was again.

You can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto your face despite yourself.

Joel doesn’t understand, looking at you inquisitively, something he’s become used to around you in the short time he’s been here, “What?”

“Darlin’.” You mock his southern draw playfully, echoing his deep voice despite your differing pitches, “Reminds me of home.”

“Jus’ slips out from time to time,” Joel admits, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” You assure him with a more welcoming smile, “I don’t mind.”

Joel shakes his head in tired amusement, rubbing his fingertips against the worry lines in his forehead before they shift down his face and you can see the exhaustion in his face. He doesn’t look well-rested at all, not even on a vacation meant for that exact reason. You feel guilty now, keeping him up into the late hours of the night for your own entertainment. He looks away again, off toward something that your eyes don’t follow.

You moved rather silently as you stood, picking up your mess and stowing the bottle away in the fridge returning to bid a goodnight to Joel, who was no longer much of a stranger anymore. But, he’s already asleep—somewhere between the time it took you to clean up and put away the alcohol, he had passed out.

He’d stayed up for you, noting how soundlessly he slept now.

You don’t have the heart to wake him up, quickly assess your surroundings and find the thick hand-woven blanket resting over the back of the couch and pick it up, draping it over him carefully. He doesn’t shift an inch, cheek resting against a close fist, the other hand closed just as tight where it rests in his lap, seeming like he was always on guard, even in his sleep. You’ve never been more intrigued by a stranger, even if this was fleeting and foolish, you wanted to understand him. And as much as Joel was trying to fight it, he wanted to understand you too.

Thank you for reading this to the end! If you enjoyed please extend a like or reblog (with a comment if you'd like, i love reading them <3) to support writers, it helps a ton!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #MMITW #my writing #pedrostories

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cosmowgyral · 5 months ago

Text

Falling into Sin with the Black Tiger ~ Gilbert's 4th Birthday

▪︎ Chapter 3

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

It’s your birthday---and Obsidian castle is eerily quiet.

The only thing celebrating Gilbert’s birthday was the starlight from the canopy up above. No one else even mentioned his birthday.

The tension of thoroughly avoiding the topic that is off-limits is eating away at me as well, but I mustered my spirit to shake them off and energetically proceeded with the preparations from the morning.

Emma: Lies….

Gilbert: Thank you for the food. Everything was delicious.

(Today’s meal was enough to easily feed 30 people…enough to host a party.)

Extra large salad with ham, cheese and vegetables; meat pies served on a platter; a huge amount of creamy pasta and a large number of dry fruits….

Even though I prepared several other items to fill our stomachs, Gilbert consumed nearly 80% of everything.

(I was already full after eating only 20% of it.)

Emma: I’m glad you had a lot to eat.

Gilbert: That’s how delicious your cooking is.

Gilbert: By the way, little rabbit, I think it’s about time.

(…Maybe I got too nervous waiting for the right time.)

Emma: Well then…

Emma: Happy birthday, Gilbert.

I stood up and gave him the present I was hiding under the table.

Gilbert: Heehee, thank you. I wonder what you got me.

Gilbert: I was curious because you didn’t buy anything back then.

(This is the tensest moment.)

After receiving it, Gilbert immediately unwrapped the gift and carefully opened the small box.

Gilbert: I see….

Placed on top of a velvet cloth are cufflinks that were made directly by a craftsman at a jewellery store.

The method of taking gemstones purchased from a jeweller to a workshop to have a one-of-a-kind piece made is apparently not uncommon in mineral-rich countries.

Gilbert: This is your colour.

Emma: You understood?

Gilbert: Of course. You were the first person who came to mind when I saw this.

(I chose a colour I often wear, but he noticed it right away.)

Emma: That day, when we were looking at jewels, I was actually watching you the entire time.

Gilbert: Yeah, I knew.

Emma: Our eyes met many times.

Gilbert: But, it helped you think of a gift, didn’t it?

Emma: Yes. You have always been interested in me, not in gemstones.

Emma: I chose a piece of jewellery that represents me.

(It’s neither a rhodolite garnet nor obsidian.)

(I wanted to give my own colour, not a nation’s.)

(…..It’s a little embarrassing though.)

Gilbert: This is the best thing to please me. I love this gem.

It wasn’t just flattery; his blood-red eye gazed at the gem with affection.

(I’m glad that it made you happy.)

Gilbert: Hey, Emma. Will you put it on for me?

Gilbert took out the pair of cufflinks and handed them out to me.

I immediately tried to attach it with Gilbert’s shirt cuffs but it was harder than I thought.

Emma: I need some tips.

(I know how to put it on, but it doesn’t stay in place….)

(Oh I get it, how about this?)

Emma: There, done—

When I looked up after being satisfied with my result, Gilbert gently pulled my head close and made a soft sound.

Gilbert: Thank you.

Emma: Y..you’re welcome.

Gilbert: Hehe, your face is bright red.

Emma: …..It’s the usual.

Gilbert: Is that so? That’s because you love me as much as I love you.

The affectionate gaze that was directed at the gem, now shifted to me. It was unclear who started the second kiss.

(I wonder if this will also be a gift for Gilbert.)

He holds me by the waist and invites me onto his lap.

As our breaths intertwined, his cold hands started to unbutton my blouse, but I didn’t stop him.

Gilbert: Shouldn’t you say something like “at least in your room”?

Emma: Do whatever you want on your birthday, Gil.

Gilbert: Really? Then I won’t hesitate….

….....

(I asked him to do whatever he wants….)

Gilbert: Hurray, little rabbit.

Emma:…I..can’t move anymore.

( He made love to me in the dining room, then again upon returning to his room, and again when we took a bath together…)

Eventually, fatigue pinned me down to the black sheets.

Gilbert: So you’ll sleep naked?

Emma: …I want to wear clothes.

Gilbert: Right?

(I need to muster all my strength.)

Gilbert had carried me from the bathroom to the bed, and I somehow managed to sit up.

As directed, I raise my hands and Gilbert covered me with a black negligee.

Gilbert: Heehee, even when lazy you are cute.

Even the slightest touch of a kiss on my hair makes my tormented body react sensitively.

Gilbert seemed to be in a good mood and more satisfied than usual.

(Even though I get embarrassed from just thinking about it….)

Emma: Gil, did you have a good time today?

Gilbert: Of course. It’s just….

Gilbert: The only thing that’s been bothering me is that I haven’t been able to answer the question you asked me.

(“What do you want to do?” - I haven’t heard the answer from Gilbert yet.)

Gilbert: I want to ask you, Emma. Do you have any ideas?

Emma: ..Let’s see…

Emma: Do you remember the happiest moment of your life?

Gilbert: What about it?

Emma: The memories that remain most vividly in your heart might be the ones closest to what you really want to do.

Emma: Do you have anything in mind, Gil?

Gilbert lowered his eyes and remained silent.

Although his birthday was nearing its end, I watched over him quietly, not wanting to give up until the very end.

Gilbert: In the dance hall….

Gilbert: That was the first time I heard your feelings.

(….!)

Gilbert: The moment you cried for me is the one I remember the most.

Gilbert: And then, I danced with you. I guess it was a celebratory dance.

Gilbert: I still can’t forget your smile at that time.

Emma: I remember it too.

(I can still vividly picture Gilbert’s smile at that time.)

Gilbert: Emma….I’ve decided.

Gilbert: I want to dance with you again.

*skips to the ballroom*

The footsteps of two people echo in the dance hall where the stars in the sky shine like a chandelier.

It has been a while since I last intertwined my fingers with Gilbert and danced together.

Gilbert: You said earlier that you couldn’t move.

Emma: My happiness got the better of me.

Gilbert: Aren’t I just being selfish?

Emma: That selfishness makes me happy.

(Because I want you, who always sits on the throne as a great villain for the sake of others, to feel happiness even if it’s just for a second.)

Even if there are countless piles of corpses behind, I will continue to commit sins over and over again without hesitation.

Emma: By the way, is this the correct step?

Gilbert: You’re doing it right. You’re better than me.

Emma: I tend to get carried away when you praise me.

Gilbert: Heehee, feel free to get carried away.

Gilbert: The more you laugh, the more vivid your memories will be.

Gilbert: If you do that, you’ll surely find a lot of things you would want to do, right?

Emma: In a few years, a selfish villain might be born.

Gilbert: That would be a problem.

Gilbert: You either listen to my requests, or you will be forced to.

Emma: But I feel like…

Emma: The request will surely be filled with a lot of love for me.

(Even at this very moment)

The gentleness of Gilbert’s touch, the warmth of his smile, and every word he says to me….

The love that oozes out from every corner naturally brings a smile to my cheeks.

Gilbert: You’re right. I love every moment I spend with you.

Gilbert: I hope you feel the same.

He tightens the grip between our intertwined fingers.

My warmth melted, and I felt a slight heat in Gilbert’s palm.

Gilbert: I’ll always be a bad guy. I don’t even know when or where I’ll lose my life.

Gilbert: I don’t know how many more birthdays I’ll be able to celebrate like this….

Gilbert: Celebrate me, so you would never have regrets. Make it so that it becomes an unforgettable birthday for you.

(….It’s fine if I’m hated or despised.)

(If this is how Gilbert can express so many of his whims…)

Gilbert: Let’s fall deeper, and become great villains together, shall we?

[Chapter 2] [Masterlist] [His POV]

#ikemen series #ikemen prince gilbert #ikemen prince translations #ikepri gilbert #ikepri jp #ikemen prince #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri translations #cybird ikemen #cybird otome

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thesensteawitch · 9 months ago

Text

What Change Is Coming Toward You? 🍀🧹✨

Pick A Pile Reading

(Left To Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)

Hello, Senstea SOULS!

This is a collective reading with written and an audio message which you'll find at the end of this blog. So take what resonates and claim this reading in the comments!🫶🏻

Also, feel free to DM me if you wish to book a TAROT READING WITH ME !✨

BOOKING FORM • RATE CARD • TIP MY BLOG

Take a deep breath before you start reading.🪄

Pile 1

A drastic shift of energy is happening in your life. It seems you felt really stuck in a connection. You've thought of everything when it comes to this person. All possible scenarios have been exhausted. It was a tough way to come out of something until you had nothing left to give. But it's over now. Suddenly the energy will shift from you having nothing to everything. Luck is on your side, especially when it comes to finding love in the area of your life you most desire. You seem to be having zero hope toward finding the one. But something positive is happening behind your back (in your favor), which will surprise you. Keep wondering what it could be, but it's going to be better than you ever imagined.

You may be seeing numbers- 1010, 222, 11

In the END of this blog you can find the audio message about how you will feel after the change enters your life and what signs you will see as a confirmation.🫶🏻 (Time Stamp- 00:00)

Pile 2

You're about to begin a new journey. The path that was meant to be walked by you is now ready to be explored. You've always wanted something more out of life. There was a feeling of emptiness within you. Without meaning, you do nothing. You're about to find the emotional fulfillment and the deepest meaning in something that you are about to pursue in your path ahead. It's going to be magical, vast, and mysterious. Expect to live in the enchanting world that you once thought existed when you were a kid. A lot of mind-blowing ideas will be sent to you by the universe. You're centered and grounded to receive the downloads from the universe without any blockage. You'll now realize why it was necessary for you to be alone. Why were you kept away from people? Because only you can realize your purpose. God wanted you to be in the quiet so that you could listen to the purpose of your life. Your vision is expanding.

You may be seeing numbers- 555, 3939, 111, 333.

In the END of this blog you can find the audio message about how you will feel after the change enters your life and what signs you will see as a confirmation.🫶🏻 (Time Stamp- 1:19)

Pile 3

You've been waiting for your life to change. I feel there's an opportunity right around the corner, and you know it. But you don't know if it's really that good as it claims it to be. You're juggling between two thoughts, jobs, or wishes. You're trying to keep your balance, not letting your hopes high. You're in self-delusion. Your mind is playing tricks with you. What is coming towards you is going to give you the epitome of success or happiness. Until now you have been struggling to make your ends meet (be it in love or finances), and suddenly you will be surprised to see the amount of fortune this new opportunity is going to give you. Don't try to sabotage your success. You deserve it. You were living your life for less than what you deserved. Thinking won't help you. Just listen to your intuition and let this opportunity come to you. You're about to be blessed. Your intuition knows what's coming towards you, but your mind wants to keep you safe by sending false messages. It seems you'll be receiving two blessings.

You may be seeing Numbers- 1010, 234, 432

In the END of this blog you can find the audio message about how you will feel after the change enters your life and what signs you will see as a confirmation.🫶🏻 (Time Stamp- 2:20)

Here is the AUDIO MESSAGE!⭐🌈

#changes #pick a pile reading #tarot witch #tarot card reader #pick a pile #blessings #signs from the universe #angel numbers #love messages #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #message for the collective #tarot readings #pac reading #witch community #oracle card reading #tarot reader

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strangerthings-01 · 1 year ago

Text

Just a blurb to entertain until I can write more ❤️

It’s been too long, my friends.

Plot: Eddie comes up to your job to flirt with you, things get a little spicy.

Warnings: some sexual content.

💜💜

Working as a waitress was not for the weak. It was constant running around. Taking orders. Checking up on tables. Pleasing people. All for shitty tips and long unnecessary hours.

Tonight was particularly busy. Almost every table was filled with people. Dishes and napkins scattered everywhere. Loud voices filled the restaurant making it harder to understand what people were saying. tIt was a Saturday night so it was expected but it did not change the amount of stress you were under.

As you were behind the counter grabbing drink refills for a customer, you hear a very familiar voice behind you. “It’s sexy seeing you work so hard.” You turned around to see your boyfriend sitting down, chin in his hand. A cocky smile on his face. “Eddie we are so packed. You cannot be distracting me right now.” You chuckled and shook your head knowing how he was.

He would do this every now and then where he would come up to flirt with you while you were busy. It annoyed you to an extent but it was also nice to have him there to talk to when you had a break.

You walked past him and felt his hand snake across your stomach causing your breath to hitch. “Stop it.” You scolded him as you continued to walk the drinks to the table. You heard him laugh behind you and you wanted to smack and kiss him all at once. He knew he was being an ass but he also knew you loved it.

After a couple minutes of more running around, you returned back to the counter and stood in front of him. He was sipping on a drink and looked up at you with a smirk. “You’re going to be the reason I get bad tips.” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. He snorted and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. “With how you look tonight…” He bit his lip and looked you up and down. “I think you’ll get damn good tips.”

You had started dressing more cute because despite how gross it was, it got you more tips. Tonight you had your black high waisted jeans and your crew member shirt that you had tied up with a ponytail holder to look more tighter against your body, the slightest bit of skin showing. Your hair was pulled into two braids, a couple of loose strands poking out.

“You are terrible Eddie Munson.” You rolled your eyes playfully but kissed him anyways. You didn’t give him much of a chance to respond before you pulled away and went behind the counter to grab a receipt for a table. “You are such a tease babe.” He groaned. “You knew what to expect when you came in here on a Saturday night babe.” You threw back at him in a playful tone. You printed out the receipt and walked past him, this time feeling his hand move from the back of your thigh to your ass as you walked past. You felt your body tingle but ignored it, trying to focus. Anytime he came here, it always ended up with you taking a 10 and a make out sesh. It was far too busy for that.

You took a good 20 minutes making sure everyone was taken care of. After you were sure no one else needed anything, you headed back to the front. Eddie stood up as you approached him and grabbed your hand, not giving any room for you to protest as he pulled you into the employee restroom, locking it as he pushed you agaisnt the sink. “Eddie it’s so busy. I can’t.” He kissed you to shut you up and as much as you wanted to push him away, you kissed him back. “You’re so stressed baby.” He kissed you deeply, slipping his tongue past your lips. You made a sound of content as you gripped his shirt. He lifted you onto the sink counter and moved to your neck, kissing and licking. “Eddie.” You gasped, eyes closing. He rubbed your legs, getting close to your aching core. He continued to lavish your neck, sucking on one spot for a bit before pulling away.

He stepped back and watched with a smirk as you caught your breath. You gaped at him. “You are such an ass. Now I’m gonna be horny all night.” He laughed and shrugged. “Maybe that was my plan all along.” You hopped off the counter and playfully shoved him. “I hate you.” He grabbed your wrists and pulled you agaisnt his chest. “No you don’t. You definitely won’t when you finally get home.” He kissed the spot right next to your ear. You shivered at his words and looked up at him. “Now get back out there tiger.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “You are so going to pay for this later.” You lean up and kiss him, feeling him return it immediately. “Mhm I look forward to it.” You pulled away. “I gotta go. I love you.” You said as you pulled the door open. “I love you more.” You heard him say as you slipped out back onto the floor. You smiled and touched your lips before getting back into your service mode. He would be death of you.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddiemunsonclingy #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff

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latenightdaydreams · 1 year ago

Note

Hi hi! Hope you don't mind that I have another request eheh... 🥲 I'd like to request smut with some build up before it, if you don't mind of course ^^; I've just been recently obsessed over those tropes of s/o(s) being apart for too long. And then thought of a reader who happens to be an intelligence officer working for KorTac. She and König aren't together yet per sé, more like have fallen for each other but never got to voice it out. Now, reader is chosen to carry out espionage against their enemy. However, it lasts for a year or two. Which is risky af. Anyway, those feelings they had for each other never left and they only grew within time. Plus they really miss each other hjshjs- And then when she finally comes back, cue the reunion. Cue the confession. Andddd cue whatever happens after that. Sorry if my request is more lengthier than before 😭 feel free to decline

So uh yes. That's basically it. Stay safe and take care of yourself 🫶 just gonna drop this gigantic special delivery package to this wonderful writer over here (you ofc) of... Oo what's this— BOOM. LOVE ✨💓💞💕💖✨

OMG this is such a sweet idea🥹 Never feel bad sending in a request! I love reading them and I love the challenge of bringing your idea to life! Thank you for all of the love you send my way, it is very appreciated and it makes my day to see your messages and comments! I hope you have a fantastic day and enjoy the story!

Reunion (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, oral

2.3k word count

You stand in your room packing your suitcase as König sat at your desk chair. His eyes slowly going up and down your body, taking in how beautiful you look doing something so mundane. His mind flushed with thoughts of you, your mission, and his feelings. He has so much to say, but now isn’t the right time.

“Are you nervous Maus?” König bounces his foot nervously.

“I- no.” You lie. “It will be easy.”

“You’re definitely the best person for the job.”

You turn and smile at him. You want to say how much you’re going to miss him while you’re away. You’re aware that this mission will be long, maybe a year. It hurts your heart to think he might meet someone new while you’re away. What if you come back and he has a whole new life? A lot can change in that amount of time. Your heart sinks, but you continue to fake a smile for him.

You turn and face him. König looks up to meet your gaze, his pale blue eyes look sad behind his mask. The mask hiding the frown on his lips. He stands and walks to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

“I’m going to miss you Maus,” he whispers as he rests his head on top of yours.

“I’ll miss you too.” You wrap your arms around him and hug him back. “Don’t forget about me.” You say with a giggle in your voice to hide the pain in that statement.

Your giggle doesn’t work because König notices. His arms tightening around you, “I could never forget you, y/n.”

König has the overwhelming want to lean down and kiss your soft lips, but he can’t. You two are just friends. Military code forcing him to shove his feelings for you aside to not cause any issues. Yet, underneath his uniform, he is just a man in love; desperate for a chance to touch you in a more intimate way and express his love for you. He settles for friendly hugs and breathing in your scent instead.

He pulls away from the hug and looks down at you. Your beautiful eyes looking back at him. His heart pounds in his chest, he is already starting to miss you and it hurts.

“I’ll carry your bag to the garage for you.” He says closing your suitcase and picking it up.

“Thank you, Kö.”

The last time you two see each other you spend 20 minutes hugging, breathing each other in. Words hanging on the tips of both your tongues, yet no one brave enough to cross that line. Both of your hearts break as you know this could be your last time together. All you can do is hope that life brings you both back together.

The mission went on longer than expected. Two years and seven months, König has been counting the days; marking off the calendar waiting for the day you finally return. The only sign that you’re alive is the intel that KorTac occasionally gets from you, but it’s been three months since the last message. He is use to a life of solitude, but without you he feels a new level of loneliness.

He walks past your room every day before returning to his own. Your room remains vacant, everything left exactly how you left it. Every night he looks at a photo of you he has tucked under his pillow, gently kissing it hoping you’ll return to him soon.

It was another day of mundane tasks and paper work for König. He sat at his desk with your file pulled up on his screen, your photo attached. He marks off another day from the calendar, another day without you. Not even intel from you.

Around 12pm, König sits with his mask off, eating his lunch he packed for himself. He wonders where you are and if you’re safe. What if you’ve been captured and murdered or worse, fallen in love and decided to run off with the enemy. Being alone with his own thoughts is torture.

Just then there is a knock at his door. He rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. He was in the middle of eating. Putting his sandwich down, he picks up a napkin and cleans his mouth before pulling his mask down over his face. Again, a knock.

“Alright, come in.” König says as he straightens himself out. He minimizes your file that he has still pulled up on the computer screen.

The door opens and closes, he looks up to see…you.

König’s jaw drops and he just sits there staring at you for a while, as if he can’t believe that you’re real and standing in front of him. You look just as beautiful as you did the day you left. Nothing has changed other than your hair being longer now, and it suits you.

You stand there quietly waiting for him to say something, do something. He just sits there looking at you in complete shock.

“Hey Kö,” you break the silence as you take a few steps closer.

Hearing the nickname, Kö, makes his heart flutter; only you and his mother have ever called him that. You’re really here. He isn’t hallucinating. It’s you. Quickly he stands to his feet and walks towards you, pulling you into a tight embrace. He takes a deep breath, breathing you in. He’s missed your scent so much these last few years, he had forgotten what you even smelled like. Forgotten just how perfect your warmth feels against his body.

Your arms quickly wrap around him, you’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long. Being away from König was harder than you thought it would be. Especially for almost three years, you weren’t sure if you’d be returning to the same man. Yet here he was. Your König. He waited for you.

König pulls away from the hug and moves his hands to grasp you face and turn your face so you can look into his eyes. His eyes glossy, tears threatening to fall. He doesn’t speak as he just looks at your face, taking in your beauty. He hasn’t seen you in the flesh for so long, it’s like he is seeing you again for the first time. His beautiful love.

Without thinking, König pulls his mask off; revealing his face to you for the first time ever. He leans down and gently presses his lips against yours; slowly out of fear of rejection, yet once your lips touch, you don’t pull back or turn away. You kiss back with even more passion, making König melt inside. He grips your face a little tighter as he begins to kiss you harder, matching your passion.

Breaking away, he rests his head on yours, tears now falling down both of your faces.

“I was scared I would never see you again.” His voice breaks as he speaks to you.

“I know,” your breathing shutters.

He pulls away slightly as you look up at his face. You take in all of his features that have been hidden all these years of friendship. He’s…beautiful. You’ve thought of what he might be hiding all this time, it’s just scars. They only add to how attractive you see him.

“Kö, I’m in love with you.” The words flow out of your mouth as if it’s word vomit.

Your heart begins to pick up and you swallow hard, waiting for his response. Your hand reaching out to wipe tears away from his eyes as they fall.

“I’m in love with you too, y/n. I always have been.” His voice cracks.

He leans down and his lips meet yours again, his tongue licking your lips as they part to accept him. He lets out a soft moan as he tastes you for the first time. He’s wanted this for a long time, since the day you stayed behind with him after a failed mission. That was the day he fell in love with you.

His hands drop down to your waist as he begins to push up the hem of your shirt, his warm hands caressing your soft skin. You don’t stop him; your body has always craved him. You’re his now, in this moment, and forever. Slowly pulling away from your lips, his eyes drop down your body.

“Is this okay?” He seeks you consent before continuing. His hands continue to caress your waist, moving up slowly.

You nod your head, closing your eyes as his lips come back to meet yours. You continue to make out as his hands move up your body. He begins to pull you shirt up, breaking the kiss to take your shirt fully off. He looks down at your breasts cupped in your bra. He brings you closer to him as he can wrap his arms around you and unhook your bra. You let the bra drop from your body.

König quickly drops to his knees, his lips finding your breasts and kissing all over, his lips grazing over your nipples giving you chills. His hands fumble with the button of your pants as he undoes it. Pulling down your zipper, he looks up at you. His hands wrap around the top of your pants and pull them down with your underwear.

His eyes look at the soft bush between your legs before he kisses your stomach and hips. You lean back against the wall and he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. Slowly he kisses down your thigh that’s resting on him. He finally begins to kiss the soft hair covering your sacred area. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent completely. He has always wanted to be graced with the privilege of giving you pleasure, and here he is finally.

He sticks his tongue out and licks from the bottom to the top, his tongue making small circles over your clit. He can’t believe just how sweet you taste. The small moans leaving your lips mixed with the smell of your arousal making his cock rock hard in his cargos. He begins to suck lightly on your clit, flicking his tongue over it as he does. Your legs begin to tremble and jerk.

You look down at him as he eats you out, your fingers gently combing through his blonde hair. You could have never imagined that he would be this good as he begins to focus in on your clit. Legs shaking you moan out, calling his name. You feel a rush, a build up of pleasure.

Knowing that you’re about to cum, König keeps his rhythm. You push his face into your cunt, forcing him to only breathe in your sweet natural musk. His face covered in your arousal; he can’t take it anymore.

He moves your leg off of him gently as he stands up. He begins to quickly undo his belt and take his pants off. He pulls his shirt off, revealing his Greek god like body to you. You just look at him, in awe. The same way he looks at you.

You both stand there looking at each other’s bare bodies. König just can’t get enough of you. He walks closer to you and scoops you up in his arms. He walks to his desk chair with you. He sits slouched in the chair as you sit on his lap, your wet pussy rubbing against his erection. You lean in and kiss his lips as he moans softly feeling a tease of what your warmth will be like.

With no regard for safe sex, you lean forward, reaching down and grabbing his cock to guide it into your pussy. Once the tip squeezes in you both let out a harmonious moan. Your eyes studying his face as he is focused on watching you stretch around his cock.

Your hands on his shoulders for balance, you continue to sit down until König bottoms out inside of you. His hands squeezing the supple flesh of your thighs as he submits to you and lets you take control of your shared pleasure. Your tight cunt squeezing around him, breasts bouncing in his face as you move over him. His muscles flex as he assists you in your movements.

“Oh Scheiße, Maus. You feel so fucking good.” He moans out as his head falls back against the back of the chair; eyes closed. He has never felt this level of pleasure before with another partner. The sound of your wet cunt filling the space between your shared moans and panting.

“Kö,” you whimper out as your hands move to his chest, fingers digging deeply into his skin.

König opens his eyes and looks down at your cunt eagerly trying to milk him. A creamy white ring circling the base of his cock, and he can smell the sex in the air. He can’t hold on anymore. He wraps his arms around your abdomen and holds you close to him while he begins to quickly thrust up into you, his balls slapping against your ass. You begin to moan out loudly, definitely loud enough to be heard from the hallway, but he couldn’t care less.

“I-I’m going to- ah,” König couldn’t even speak as he begins to sweat from his rapid movements. His hands grasping your ass as he begins to roughly push you down on his cock. You can feel him throbbing deep inside of you as he cums. His cheeks turning slightly red from embracement of not lasting longer.

Your lips meet his with desperation as you both kiss. His hands still gripping you tightly as you rest on him, as if you might leave again if he lets go. Breaking the kiss you both look into each other’s eyes. One of his hands leaving your body and moving up to caress your face gently.

“Are you mine?” König sounding so submissive and gentle, a side no one ever sees of him.

“Of course.”

#konig #konig x y/n #konig cod #konig x reader #könig #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x reader smut #cod konig #könig call of duty #könig x reader smut #könig x y/n #könig x you #smut

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planetsano · 2 years ago

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↻ 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: a gripping tale of love as the reader navigates a complex relationship with the infamous toji fushiguro OR toji fushiguro being a shit boyfriend should be a case study!

↻ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: age gap (20’s ↝ 30’s), toxic relationship, smut.

↻ 𝗯𝘆𝗿: female reader, female bodied reader.

You see, the thing about Toji Fushiguro is that he’s always been unapologetically and shamelessly him— he’ll always be a man that will be forever stuck in his own ways. He’s selfish, crude, insensitive, and would do anything no matter how foul and evil to put him forward.

So.. it’s cute— no, admirable that you thought you could change him. A pretty, young thing in her twenties dealing with a wreck of a man like him. How sick is that? Really, your first red flag should have been him wearing a shirt three times too small.

Yeah, the age gap was certainly.. more than a few years, which heavily attributed to the mental disconnect in the relationship. You were bright-eyed and naïve, so much life in you and hadn’t experienced a drop of what real life was like. You often romanticized life, finding beauty in the simplest of moments and weaving dreams from the fabric of everyday experiences. Your vivid imagination painted the world with colors unseen by most, turning mundane occurrences into enchanting adventures.

You held on to the “love could conquer all!” and “I can fix him!” mentality or something like that. But your optimism was a double-edged sword, pushing you to cling to the relationship while also blinding you to the reality that perhaps you both needed different things in life. You needed a life partner and he needed a tight cunt to fuck.

It’s ironic because you approached him first.

“Mister Toji..? What’s your wife like?” You shyly played with the ends of your hair, avoiding his gaze like the plague. “Ah?” Toji raised a brow at you, slightly surprised by the forwardness of your question. “Oh right, ‘don’t have a wife.” “Oh..” You feel your face and the tips of your ears become hot with embarrassment. “Well maybe I could.. make you dinner sometime..?”

Toji liked the appeal of having a woman half his age on his arm. But what he simply could not stand was the amount of energy required for it— oh, don’t misunderstand, he never put forth any real efforts anyway, but it was simply the.. expectation. Toji didn’t give a fuck about dates or anniversaries, all he cared about was emptying his balls inside of your pussy, the hot dinners you make for him and cozy shelter you provide.

You liked to play housewife in your own silly little delusion, finding comfort in the make-believe world where everything was picture-perfect. The idea of being the nurturing, organized, and devoted partner gives you a sense of purpose, shielding you from the harsh realities of what really was. It was a cozy escape, a refuge where you could pretend that all your worries were mere fiction.

Yet, there were moments when the illusion began to unravel, and a whisper of doubt crept into your mind. Were you truly content with this role you had assumed, or were you sacrificing your true desires in pursuit of an idealized version of yourself? The nagging ty made you question if he really loved you as much as you were in love with him. Or at all for that matter. He was a busy man but would returning a call really hinder his day? Would a text twist his arm so much? You never ask though, you would hate to upset him or come across as “immature.”

But if he’s just so horrible, this.. big, bad man who found it annoying that you..? That you wanted to hold hands in public! What made you stay? Why stay with a man that seemed to only have his best interest in heart and you were a second, sometimes third, or forth.

His cock.

That cock was an addiction that you had no intention of quitting. The way this man fucked you was enough to liquidate your mind— leaving you nearly brain-dead as his warm seed oozes from your hole. The width of his cock alone made you stretch an absurd amount, teetering the edge of comfortability. His tip relentlessly gives your cervix a beating— bruising it and leaving a delicious soreness that lasts for nights.

Toji’s physical presence was undeniably imposing and large, that alone makes you feel like a delicate trinket, one treasured and protected. Yet, paradoxically, the way he handled you was anything but delicate. His hands, strong and calloused, held a certain roughness that spoke of a life lived on the edge, battle-hardened and weathered. He folds your body as though you were a ragdoll— regardless of your size.

When he’s gone for days on end, you find yourself yearning for his fulfillment— no hand or toy will satisfy you the way he does. Toji’s ruined sex for you.

Toji withheld affection from you whether it was intentional or not. So when he did praise you it felt as though you were a pretty princess— chemically altering your pretty little brain more than a little bit.

He often kept his emotions locked away, leaving you hesitant of where you stood in his heart. The lack of affection was a constant ache, leaving you yearning for even the smallest crumbs of his praise. Yet, when those rare moments arrived, it felt like a euphoric rush, flooding your mind with a mix of serotonin and dopamine.

His praise, though infrequent, had an intoxicating effect on you. It was like soaring to the highest of heavens, as if the whole universe had aligned in your favor. In those fleeting instances, self-doubt dissolved, and you basked in the warmth of his approval, feeling valued and cherished.

But the hesitation lingered, a cloud of doubt that never fully dissipated. You wondered if his praises were genuine or merely an act of throwing a dog a bone, a way to keep you satiated so you wouldn’t throw one of your fits. The chemistry of emotions within you danced between soaring highs and daunting lows, creating a rollercoaster of feelings you couldn’t control.

You found yourself seeking those rare moments of praise like an addict craving their next fix, yearning for his validation and acceptance. The intoxicating mix of emotions left you captivated and vulnerable, making it hard to see beyond the haze of his allure and your love goggles. You chose to believe a ring is on it's way at the end of the day.

“You did a good job today, lovebug.” “Really?” “Mm.”

And you jump, just like a lap dog. But don’t feel bad, I would too if I had a man as fine as Toji. Woof. ♡

#┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° bria writes!#toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jujustsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji smut #toji x you #toji zenin #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro imagine #toji fushiguro smut

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heretyc · 1 month ago

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Tips for dealing with the Jaeger/Henrietta

While this event is fun, it's also been a pain, especially in the newer trials. I've played a few trials already [one of the newer Barbi ones and the older ones] and I thought I'd make this in case anybody's curious or having difficulties.

Jaeger is a one hit kill; if you get caught by her, you're instakilled. She's nothing like the other big grunts, she's a one hit instakill that you need to avoid at all costs. Thankfully she's slow as hell and you can slow her down with doors [locking them and Barricade] but keep in mind she can't be stunned with projectiles, nor will she act like a normal ex-pop. She's a homing missle who knows where you are at all costs. If you've played Resident Evil, she's exactly like the Nemesis and Mr. X. [Even Mr. X could get lost, though.]

If you're a hider or fond of hiding, don't hide. That may sound obvious, but if you're stuck with an ex pop or a prime asset, run instead; they get extremely confused if you run around a corner. If you're doing an objective [like Grind the Bad Apples or Reunite the Family] then hiding will just allow Jaeger to close distance and you're letting the prime asset guard the area once again. Take advantage of dark rooms.

Don't expect your trials to be short; Reunite the Family is one of the easiest for me to finish and even Jaeger made it last over 20 minutes. Expect to have to lure Jaeger away.

When luring her away from objectives or areas you need to be in, do NOT take shortcuts, take long ways. Jaeger will, too, take shortcuts and easily catch up with you.

Much like the prime assets, she's not hard to hear whatsoever. That creepy "radio" noise she makes is audible and easy to distinguish, especially on Suburbs.

The best maps against her are outdoor ones. Coyle's a babe but his maps are literally awful because of the amount of rooms and corners they have. The only exception to this is the Orphanage map with Gooseberry because it has outdoor areas.

Please, for the love of God, do not try to lure her close to you then run around her if you're stuck in a dead end like you would with other ex-pops or prime assets. She will immediately home in on you and cut distance.

Not fun.

The best trial to farm this event on is Reunite the Family; quick, easy, and Gooseberry is easy to hide from whilst in that room. [This is my opinion, of course.] Liquidate the Union is also pretty good, but seeing as it's new, you might struggle with it. I certainly did lmfao 80 minutes and 3 deaths down the drain. Whichever trial is easiest to you, do it. Jaeger just makes it a tad longer to finish.

After every death [you WILL die sometimes trying to understand how she works, don't stress about it], it takes a short amount of time before she spawns. Take advantage of that and finish an objective if you need to.

In every trial, she also takes a while to spawn; you kinda have to get to the main objective before you hear the sound indicator [the deep, scary alarm that plays after you hear the standard "ex-pop incoming" from the elevators. I forget what they're called, sigh]. Depends on the trial you take, but the game gives you a second to collect items and get yourself sorted before dealing with her.

Basically, TL:DR for every trial; don't stop moving, don't get caught in dead ends, don't go into narrow hallways or rooms, and don't be afraid to die a few times. Have fun. [And she doesn't like hugs :( I've tried.]

#outlast #outlast trials #the outlast trials #outlast guide

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myheadsgonenumb · 3 months ago

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Brit picking tip for how to write Hogwarts authentically #9 - this one is going to be about how the school day itself is set up and what an average day/ week looks like.

British schools run Monday-Friday. I know some European countries have a system where schools close on Wednesday afternoons and are open on Saturday mornings... this would be treated with abject horror by British teenagers (and British teachers).

(some very exclusive fee paying schools are open on Saturday mornings, but not all, not state schools and not Hogwarts. Saturday morning school is not an accepted - or acceptable - part of the culture.)

Along with this difference to their European counterparts, I think British schools also open later in the morning than American schools. Again our teens (and teachers) would riot if there was any expectation to be conscious, never mind in school, before 8:00 am.

Exact times will vary from school to school, but the vast majority of them open between 8:20 - 9:00 and finish between 2:30 - 3:30 (and as I have said, this is every day, Monday to Friday, with weekends totally free).

Each day usually involves about five hours worth of actually teaching time, but there will also be a variety of form times (home room), assemblies, break and lunch times. Those schools that have longer days will generally be giving their students longer lunch times, and not actually providing more teaching time.

A student's timetable is different every day. Monday has a different set of lessons to Tuesday etc. But it stays the same throughout the year, they don't change classes or take different electives when they start a new term (semester)

This is an example of a timetable I created for the second year of my Marauders Era fic, which follows the pattern of what a timetable in a UK school could look like:

As you can see, each day has a different configuration of lessons. Although Monday's lessons are different to Tuesday's lessons, Monday's lessons will remain the same every Monday all year.

Some of the lessons are double periods, and some are single. This is because, across a week, core subjects have to be taught for a certain amount of hours. Hogwarts students only take core subjects in their first two years (apart from flying) so each subject is taught in one double and one single lesson across the five days (the equivalent of three hours for each subject) (and then with astronomy taught at midnight, once a week - like in canon) .

(I made the lunch break incredibly long for two reasons 1) so they have time to eat and go to the library to do plot relevant research and 2) because, in the books, Harry very often finishes his last lesson and goes straight to the Great Hall to eat his evening meal. Brits eat earlier than Europeans, in general, but eating at 3:00 is ridiculous even for us - so I pushed it back as far as I could. In real life, no one is getting an hour and a half for lunch, they are between 30 mins to an hour; those with a longer lunch break will finish the school day later.)

When the marauders went up to third year and started their OWL electives, this meant a more complicated timetable:

I made each period shorter by 15 mins (thus creating seven as opposed to five periods per day), break later and lunch shorter as well in order to fit in all the extra subjects (this does mean that bells for the different years to change or return to lessons would be ringing at different times - but that can be a thing in real schools, so not really a problem).

Again there is a mixture of double and single periods. The old core subjects are also taught across more hours than the newer electives (this is true in real schools, where English, Maths and Science are taught multiple times a week, whereas something like music will only get one lesson). Here, core subjects are being taught for three hours, while electives are being taught for two.

Obviously in a real school, different subjects run alongside each other - so someone might be in art, while someone else was in music. Timetabling is a bit of a nightmare to organise (and its all done by computers now, I have no idea how they managed back in the olden days). In order not to over-complicate matters for herself JKR just had all the Gryffindors in the same electives as Harry, and all the Slytherins take COMC as well etc.

I wanted the marauders to take a variety of different OWL electives, and didn't want the headache of sorting out clashing timetables, so I utilised the real world Brit invention of "prep".

"Prep" is study time done under the watchful eye of a teacher and is used to get homework done. In boarding schools it happens after the school day is finished. In day schools it is only timetabled for sixth formers (sixth and seventh year students - taking their NEWT equivalents) - who only take three subjects and have lots of free periods. (They may not call it "prep" any more, because that is quite an old fashioned term, but it will be the same thing.) In the GoF movie, in the scene where Ron realises Hermione is a girl and asks her to the dance and she tells him she already has a date, they are in prep. They are doing their homework, while Snape watches over them and Hermione needs to show him she has finished her work before she is given permission to leave.

I've used it during the school day as well, so that everyone is occupied even if they are not taking the elective currently timetabled and Madam Pince is responsible for watching them. For anyone struggling to work out how to timetable their different characters into different lessons, please feel free to use this (based in reality so totally legit) workaround.

When it comes to break and lunch times, this time is usually pretty unstructured. There will be places students are supposed to go (designated areas inside and outside of the school) and places they are not supposed to go. The areas students are allowed in will have teaching staff "on duty", who are there to make sure rules aren't broken and everyone is safe. For the most part, students will just get something to eat, mill around and chat - or roam about the school in packs. Some boys will take a football out to kick around (of the soccer variety) or maybe play basketball - I suppose the wizarding equivalent would be throwing a quaffle to each other. They aren't getting out serious equipment though. Other students will go to the library. Many congregate in the toilets. I would also be lying if I said fighting wasn't also an integral part of student activity during their social times - the wizarding equivalent would be wizard's duels. A student might have a pack of cards, or a portable chess board, and sit in a quiet area and play with a friend - but this is only going to be a small number.

Some schools might offer lunch time clubs eg choir or art club (though I think after school clubs are more common). Each club would only run once or (at the very most) twice a week, as this involves a teacher giving up their own lunch time, and has to be fitted in around teaching and being on duty.

The vast vast majority of students, though, are just going to hang out and not do very much.

I think that's all I can think of - the main take aways being, no school on a Saturday, don't start before 8:30 am and have different lessons for every day but the same weekly timetable for the full year.

I hope this helps people trying to write any slice of life scenes in their Hogwarts fics. As ever, if you have any questions please leave them in the comments or feel free to send an ask ❤ 🇬🇧

#hogwarts #harry potter #fanfic writing #brit picking

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chamomiletealeaf · 1 year ago

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❄️ Baby It's Cold Outside ❄️

When you, a barista at a cozy coffee shop is on the closing shift, a familiar face walks in just as you’re about to get badly snowed in from an unexpected snow storm, leaving you with no choice but to stay the night, a café couch, and the company of Simon Riley.

wc: 4,184

a/n: So sorry this took so long ugh! So much has been happening recently with my birthday last week, Christmas, and some mental health issues. But! I'm doing better! And writing always helps. This was super fun to write and I hope you all enjoy! Happy Holidays everyone! <3

Warnings: None! Avoid reading if you don't want to be smothered with super adorable fluffiness.

“Tonight’s forecast will be a high of 35 and a low of 20. Expect up to five inches of snow tonight. Stay safe, and stay warm. Happy Holidays!” The weather woman on the TV cheerily smiled as she gave the weather report. You listened to the TV as you wiped down a tiny circular table the only two customers just got up from in the little coffee shop you worked in, desperately trying to scrub away a dried coffee stain left due to the lack of a coaster used despite it being provided at the table.

*spritz spritz*

You spray the table again, sighing as you finally wipe away the chestnut colored ring stain. Five inches of snow tonight meaning less customers, or at least you hoped. You loved your job, but man were you tired. It was a holiday weekend after all. You’ve been working at the little coffee shop on the corner of the city for what seemed like ages now. You enjoyed the ambiance of the place. How comforting and cozy it was no matter what time of year, the warmness of the fairy lights illuminating the room, the ring of the bell above the door when people walk in, the quiet chatter of customers enjoying a little break in their day, the soft clanks of dishes and cups being placed down or picked up, and the slight buzz of the coffee machines whirring. It all became something so familiar to you. Comforting in a way. Sure there was always the occasional rude customer that sometimes made you want to cry in the break room or burst out laughing with your coworkers in the back, but that made your job all the more interesting. What made up for it was the amount of good customers you had. Super kind regulars who always tipped well and shared their lives with you, some even inviting you places with the group they were with.

But your favorite customer was quite the opposite of the other chatty regulars. You only ever saw him a few months at a time, and you never caught his name, but you always recognized him and remembered his order, always patiently awaiting his return. He was a big, tall man. Intimidating even, with light blonde hair that was always a bit messy as if he had just pulled a hat or mask off. You noticed the slightest sliver of tattooed skin on his left forearm when he would reach over to hand you a tip or to pick up the Earl Grey tea he always got with just a little bit of vanilla creamer in it. You always tried to make his orders look pretty to brighten his day, and for him to know it was special from you, so you always put whatever mini flower from the plants in the café you took such good care of in it. You hoped he would notice that his tea was the only one with the little purple flower in it. He only said a few words but tipped very well and would wait his turn to be served by you which you always thought was strange, since other baristas' lines were free. He never shared anything about himself other than small talk you would make with him, but he seemed happy to engage in your conversations due to the slight upturn of his lips when he listened to you talk. He was stealthy and quiet, like a lone wolf keeping distance from other animals, and the way he lurks in the shadows, observing like a ghost. His tired, soft, sweet, honey brown eyes never left yours as you spoke and you swore you could find the faintest hint of relief, no, comfort in them when he listened to ramble. You sometimes got lost in the way his light brown freckles on his nose, cheeks, and around his eyes looked like constellations and you wondered if any of them actually matched any. I mean, he did look like he was sent from the heavens above where the stars lived anyway. He was just that gorgeous. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was a speck of stardust turned into a human, with him being so pretty and all. He was kind of like a shooting star too. If you look away for a second, you might miss him. But if you do catch a glimpse of him once in a blue moon, you can’t help but feel like the universe is on your side.

There wasn’t anyone left in the coffee shop but you after the last two customers left. It was close to 8 pm. The shop closed at 10 but considering the outdoor conditions, maybe you would be able to close a little earlier and get home before you wouldn’t have a way out. You finally finish wiping down the tables and pushing in all the chairs and take a second to look outside as you make your way back behind the counter. Gray dark skies darken the little part of the world you’re in and white flurries begin to fall, creating a light blanket of snow muffling the sounds of the earth the way a pair of fuzzy earmuffs might. As you watch the snowflakes fall from the inside of the café, mesmerized by their glistening, you hear the door chime. You snap out of your trance and scurry behind the counter, not looking in the direction of the door trying to make it look like you were working. Still not looking towards the customer, back towards the counter, you turn on the coffee machine and greet whoever walked in.

“Hi, welcome! How are y-”

You turn around and stop in your tracks when you see him. Blonde hair disheveled as always and sullen eyes looking ever so slightly relieved, cheery even with the way you catch the subtle glimpse of what can best be described as a hopeful twinkle in his pretty brown eyes.

“Hi love.” The sound of his deep Manchester accent floods your body with warmth and you can’t help but smile.

“Well, look who it is. I haven’t seen you around here in ages! Started to think you found another shop.” You giggled, leaning on the counter in front of you subconsciously bringing yourself closer to him.

“How could I? Could never find service like yours anywhere else. No one could make my tea as good as you can either.”

You look down and smile abashedly, flustered by his kindness and a bit shocked at his talkativeness. You figured it was because of the privacy you two had alone in the café.

“I’m so sorry to show up with the weather like this, but I just got back from work yesterday and I’ve been missing a bit of warmth.”

“Oh don’t apologize! I always have time for you.” You smile at him and you both look at each other for a bit, both getting lost in the other’s gaze.

You snap out of it first, jumping back from the counter to turn to put the kettle on.

“Come, sit! I’ll make your usual.” You gesture to the bar stool at the counter and he pulls a chair out and watches you make his tea.

“Earl Grey with just a splash of vanilla creamer still, yeah?”

He chuckles and crosses his arms on the counter leaning on them.

“I don’t know how you do it.”

You smile to yourself, back still turned to him as you prepare the loose leaf tea to steep. You’re glad he’s finally opening up to you a bit.

The weather woman on the TV comes back on, gaining both of your attention. You turn your head from the tea kettle to the TV above the counter to the right, leaning back a bit to see and Simon looks too.

“Well it looks like we’re getting more snow than initially expected tonight. From now until early morning, expect blizzards with over ten inches of snow. Stay safe and warm everyone!”

You and Simon look at each other after the weather woman finishes and the TV goes to a commercial break.

“Damn, I should take this to go then. Don’t wanna keep you open too long. They got no one else helping you close? Would hate to have you drive home in this.” He says.

You panic for a second hearing his plans to leave the shop so you can close and your eyes widen.

“No no! It’s- it’s ok.” You say a bit loudly.

“If anything, I’ll take the subway. I don’t live too far from here.” You reassure him.

He frowns at the thought of you traveling home alone.

“Well, maybe I’ll walk you then. It’s the least I can do to thank you for your hospitality.”

“I’d like the company.” You say with a smile.

You pour his tea into the cup and go to place it in front of him, but pull back at the last second.

“Oh wait! I almost forgot, don’t drink it yet!” You say as you jog over to the flower plant by the coffee machine, picking a tiny purple flower off of it. You bring it over to the cup of tea in front of him and place it in.

“I take care of the plants myself. Don’t worry, they’re clean.” You smile and he looks at the little flower floating around in his tea.

“You know, I only put flowers in your tea.” You giggle, and he looks up.

“Thank you. It’s lovely.” He lets himself smile back at you, heart melting at the way you’re so giddy and happy to serve him and treat him so special that he doesn’t even notice the storm outside, and neither do you.

You do notice, however, that you never caught the man’s name.

“You know, I never got your name, after all the times you’ve been here.” You say to him.

He takes a sip of his tea, and hesitates for a second, thinking about whether or not to tell you his real name. You don’t know about his job, or who he is at all. No one other than the Task Force does. He wouldn’t want to put you in any danger. He’s already risking enough going out in civilization without his balaclava, figuring that it would attract more attention due to him sticking out being the only one with a mask on. But as he places his cup down on the saucer and looks up at your wide, patient eyes awaiting his answer, what kind of person would he be to let you down and kill the anticipation in your eyes, let alone lie to you? After all you’ve done for him? All the kindness you’ve shown? Maybe just a first name would be ok. After all, anyone could find out his first name from anything really. He opens his mouth then closes it, then opens it again.

“Simon.” He answers. “My name is Simon.”

Your heart flutters and melts like a snowflake falling on salted pavement at the sound of his name coming from his voice.

“Simon.” You repeat back smiling. “Simon Simon Simon.” You chant in a sing-songy voice, getting used to the name. “That’s pretty. It suits you.” You say, cheeks starting to hurt from the smile plastered over your face.

Simon blushes at the sound of his name falling from your lips, finding himself wanting to hear it more often.

“What’s your’s love?” Simon asks.

You tell him your name and it was his heart’s turn to flutter and melt. He smiles at you and whispers your name to himself, familiarizing himself with it. He’s never felt so warm before, and he was quite shocked with the feeling, almost alarmed at it. He straightens up in his chair to try and stop himself from losing himself in you.

“That’s beautiful.” He smiles again, and takes a sip of his tea again.

A bang on the glass of the window on the other end of the shop grabs both of your attention. You both turn your heads and look outside, forgetting about the storm out there.

“Geez I forgot it was a blizzard out there.” You say worriedly. A gust of wind picked up a fallen tree branch and thrusted it against the window pane which caused the noise.

Simon notices the worry in your voice and expression and an instinct to comfort and protect you takes over his being. He’s afraid of it. It’s unfamiliar, but he can’t help it, especially not when your pretty face looks anything but happy and the way your baby hairs messily poke out from your ponytail.

“Let me help you clean up. I don’t reckon anyone else coming by tonight. I’ll walk you to the subway.” Simon says, almost too enthusiastically and who are you to say no to those warm, honey brown eyes.

But as you open your mouth to answer, the power goes out. Causing you to yelp instead of speak, leaving you and Simon in the darkness, both snapping your heads up at the ceiling to try and find where the light bulbs were that just flickered out.

“Well, closing is gonna be a bit more difficult tonight than expected.” You say.

“Shit.” Simon says.

There isn’t any light except from the glow of the snow from outside, but you can still make out Simon’s strong features, still looking so handsome, even in the dark.

“There’s a fireplace by the couch. It’s gas powered so it should work.” You leave from behind the counter, stumbling around to find your way over to it. You feel around the mantle and sigh in relief when you find the switch. You switch the fireplace on illuminating the coffee shop and Simon gets up from his seat to walk over to the window, leaving his tea on the bar top. He looks outside and you make your way over to his side, and look out the window too.

“The snow is too high to open the door, let alone walk in.” Simon says.

“Simon?” You say in a quiet voice.

He looks down at you, and you never really realized the height difference between you two, considering he’s normally sitting down at a table when you are talking to him.

“Yeah hun?”

“I don’t think either of us are going home tonight.” You say and wrap your arms around yourself due to the sudden chill in the room from the power outage.

Simon looks out the window again, thinking of how to answer, or what to do next. Then, he laughs to himself, then looks back down at you.

“Unfortunately, I think you might be right love.” He says, and the pet name immediately warms your insides up again.

You both stand there staring out the window a bit, unsure of what to do next.

“Well.” You say, breaking the silence. “Might as well get comfortable then. Looks like we’re staying the night.” You blush to yourself at the thought of spending the night with Simon. You also think to yourself how you’re asking for a raise when you get out of this mess. You move to sit on the couch in front of the fireplace, and Simon follows, sitting on the opposite side, nervous to get too close to you. You take off your apron and let out your hair, and Simon can’t help but watch you and how your features become more defined with the light and shadows created by the luminosity of the fire. You looked so beautiful and Simon has never felt so safe and happy. It’s weird to him, considering he barely knew you at all, and he’s not used to feeling this way, but he lets himself, just this once.

“So.” You say, leaning back into the couch, taking off your shoes and pulling up your legs to sit criss crossed.

“What do you do for work?” You turn and ask him, and his smile fades a bit. He turns his gaze towards the fire and you notice the change in his demeanor and you regret asking.

“Can’t exactly talk about it.” Simon says, remembering that, right, he had a job. A scary and difficult one.

“Oh. Sorry.” You apologize, and turn your gaze to the fire as well.

Simon notices the embarrassment and regret in your voice and he snaps his head back to you.

“Oh no no it’s ok love. Not your fault.”

His reassurance makes you feel a little better and you regain some of your confidence.

“Well, you already know what I do for work.” You joke.

Simon chuckles at that and leans back in his seat, looking back at the fire, getting more comfortable.

“That I do.” He says, and he spreads his legs and puts an arm on the ledge of the couch behind him, making you blush since his arm was almost touching you.

“And you do a damn good job at it.” He smiles.

You look at him looking at the fire and you notice the reflection of the fire in his eyes and how well the warm colors compliment each other. You wished you could stay here like this forever, just looking at him, just being with him, even if you barely knew him at all. There was something so domestic about Simon. Something so… homely.

Even with the fire going, and despite the warmth Simon made the inside of your body feel, the cold air of the dark coffee shop began to prick at your skin once again, causing you to wrap your arms around yourself as you and Simon sat in a comfortable silence staring at the fire as if it were telling you both it’s deepest darkest secret. Simon notices you curl in on yourself and he turns his head towards you.

“Here.” He says after a second, analyzing why you curled up, and he begins to take off his fleece lined cargo jacket.

“Oh no I’m ok.” You lean away from him a little, not wanting him to sacrifice his comfort for yours.

“You’re shivering love. It’s ok, here, take it.”

You reach out and grab the heavy jacket and place it over your shoulders. It was big, heavy, warm, and smelled like him. Like mahogany teakwood and firewood that once burned but went damp from rainfall, leaving only clouds of smoke as evidence of it ever being set aflame. He smelled earthy, musky, but nice and clean with a hint of raw sweetness like a jasmine flower, and you drowned in it.

“Thank you.” You said shyly, flustered at how intimate wearing his jacket was.

“Looks better on you than it does me.” Simon says, and you giggle.

You look at each other and smile for the millionth time that night and scooch a little bit closer to him and he does the same. The blaze of the gas fireplace lighting up the little corner of the coffee shop you two sat in with a low orange glow.

You glanced out the window which reminded you of the storm outside. All of a sudden, you remember something.

“Oh my god!” You gasp and stand up, startling Simon a bit.

“What is it?” Simon asks, a worried expression on his face.

“I completely forgot oh my god.” You say as you throw his jacket off and scurry off the couch to a closet hidden away in a tiny hall for the employees to walk through to get to the break room next to the kitchen. Simon turns his body and watches you run away, hearing your shuffling about in the hallway.

You feel around the closet and finally feel a cardboard shoebox.

“Ah, yes.” You whisper to yourself as you pull the box down and search in the dark through it. You feel what you’re looking for and you smile to yourself, picking it up out of the box and holding it to your chest and you place the shoebox back into place and begin your way in the dark back to the couch.

“Everything alright back there?” Simon asks, body still turned towards you and you emerge from the dark back into the light of the fire, something small and rectangular in your hands.

“I remembered that we have this for emergencies.” You say, and pull the item away from your chest, presenting it to Simon as you take your place back next to him on the couch, sitting on his jacket.

I thought this would be helpful so we don’t have to drain the battery on our phones.

In your hands was a tiny, black, battery powered AM/FM radio.

Simon looks at the item in your hands and smiles at how cute you are. You would have no way of knowing Simon’s expertise when it comes to radio and communication especially in a dire situation. He finds your enthusiasm so adorable and he lets you have your moment, especially when you look so proud of yourself.

“Smart.” Simon says with a smirk.

“The batteries should be fully charged, since we never used it before.” You say as you fidget with the tiny box, trying to find the switch to turn it on.

“Who knew we would ever have to us-” The sound of static abruptly interrupts you and you jump a bit.

“Ah, there we go.” You say and adjust the dial on the side to find a signal, and the sound of a weather report slowly fades in, drowning out most of the static.

“Blizzards tonight with winds exceeding 40 mph at the least. Power outages have been reported across the city. It’s unsure when the power will come back but live updates will be provided.” You and Simon stare at the radio in your hands and listen to the report with eager ears.

“You know, it’s funny.” You say, speaking over the radio, gaining Simon’s attention. “One of the first things you said to me was that the reason you came by today was because you needed something warm, which is kinda the exact opposite of what’s happening now.” You say with a chuckle. Simon nods his head with a smile.

“Well, I didn’t exactly mean something warm like the temperature love.” He says, and you blush at his reference to what could only mean you, keeping your gaze on the radio in your hands, trying to ignore his eyes boring into you.

You adjust the knob on the radio and switch it to FM, trying to find some music to ease the tension in the air between you two. After a few adjustments and turns, the static fades into soft jazz music and you light up at the lovely, rich sound of the saxophone and piano through the tinny sound of the old speaker. You place the radio on the coffee table between the couch and the fireplace and wrap Simon’s jacket around yourself again. The warmness of him, the fire, and the relaxing jazz music made your head fuzzy, and you could feel yourself getting tired. You move in closer to Simon and he puts his feet up on the coffee table, crossing one ankle over the other. You feel him hesitate a bit before he places an arm around you, securing you by his side.

“Is this ok?” He whispers to you.

“It’s perfect.” You look up at him and whisper back with a smile. “Even though we don’t know how long we’re gonna be stuck here.” You laugh to yourself at the absurdity of the situation, still finding it hard to believe.

Simon hums in agreement, but he doesn’t mind, and neither do you. Not when you two are together like this. You lean your head on Simon’s chest and he turns his body towards you slightly, making himself more comfortable for you. You two hardly knew each other, only the feeling you both got when you were in each other’s presence, but it still felt like you two didn’t know anyone in the world but each other for your whole lives. You let yourself drift off to sleep against Simon’s chest, wrapped in his jacket with the soft light of the fire and slight staticy jazz music from the mini radio, letting yourself leave the stress and worry of the aftermath of being trapped at work for the next day. Simon lets himself drift off to sleep too. The snow is too piled up for anyone to come in or out, and it’s not like you two are completely stranded, so Simon’s survival instincts could be put off for a while. This was a problem to worry about tomorrow. Because right now, all that mattered was the softness Simon was experiencing inside that he never felt before, even if it terrified him. It just felt right.

And even though Simon’s heart was cold, harsh, and sometimes unforgiving, matching the conditions of the current weather, the only thing that was cold right now, was the world outside the coffee shop on the corner of your little city.

185 notes · View notes

yuna542 · 2 years ago

Text

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 20<-

Part 21

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader/Chan x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: ANGST, Jealousy, Arguing, Intimidating Chan, Swearing

Word Count: 4k

Note: You wanted Angst, you get Angst… Thought about the time Chan talked about his anger issues and felt so much better because I have the same problem. Currently working on my own anger issues. So I made it into a Part for the Story. Let me know what you think. Requests are open. Comments, Likes and Reblogs are always a blessing <3

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager. Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

The first tour dates couldn't have gone better.

The atmosphere during the show was incredible and the fans loved the comeback and everything you had prepared for them. Traveling from city to city across the world was completely new for you and getting to know all the different cultures and people was so exciting that you often thought you were only dreaming it all.

Even though there was an immense amount of responsibility on your shoulders that completely took your breath away at times, there were always the Kids that brought you back to your feet and showed you how lucky you were to be able to experience this together with them.

But one thing was still ahead of you and you broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it.

The first big concert in Japan was coming up and it was extremely important for JYP Entertainment and Stray Kids that everything worked out there. The gig turned out to be more complicated than expected, but if the show went smoothly, you had some contracts secured for the future.

On the plane to Japan, you were sitting between Hyunjin and Chan and had been working on your Ipad for a couple of hours to make sure everything went smoothly for the next concerts in Japan and Australia.

Chan had his headphones on and was already working on new tracks on his laptop, while Hyunjin's head was leaning against your shoulder and he was scrolling through social media on his phone or writing on Bubble with Stays.

"Pretty, look at this!" he commented, holding up his phone to snap a selfie.

"Let's tell our Stays we'll be in Japan soon."

While Hyunjin looked like the main character straight out of a romantic Kdrama even with the oversize hoodie and baggy jeans, you looked more like you just woke up with your hair pulled up into a messy bun, wearing one of Felix's washed out blue shirts and some old short leggings.

"No don’t! I look horrible," you pouted as he pointed the selfie camera at you and you tried to tidy a few strands of hair on your head.

Additionally, you were without makeup. You didn't have time to get ready in the morning, and with the guys, you could always just be who you were. You knew exactly that they liked you even without makeup, nice clothes and done hair.

You realised that at the latest when they had stared at you with open mouths when you first came shuffling into the living room with sweatpants, a worn hoodie and no makeup.

Jisung and Jeongin had fought over where you should sit, and Chan had almost drooled when he had noticed that you had secretly stolen one of his sweatpants. They were much more comfortable and smelled pleasantly of him.

Felix had almost forced his shirt on you, loving how his clothes clung to your curves. You kept catching yourself smelling Felix's things. It made you breathe a sigh of relief right away, like a warm summer day.

Hyunjin looked at you and grabbed your face with one hand to stare directly into your eyes. As he did so, the tip of his nose touched yours and he looked more serious than ever.

"There's nothing about you that's horrible. You look stunning. Whether in a dress or a dirty shirt."

"Dirty?" you asked a little indistinctly as he squeezed your cheeks.

He pointed to a spot on your collar that was actually discolored a little black.

"Shit," you cursed, trying to get the stain off, but it didn't work. You had probably been playing with the pen too much while you were engrossed in your work.

You heard Hyunjin chuckle softly. He raised his cell phone and just as you looked up, he pressed the shutter button.

"Hey!" you snapped at him as he pulled the phone away before you could grab it.

He looked at the picture and laughed louder.

"You look so cute!" he giggled, turning away so you couldn't see.

"Show me already!" you snapped at him as you missed again to grab his hand.

That's when he finally turned the screen and you could see the two of you in the picture. Hyunjin looked perfect, as always. He had his temple leaning against yours and you were looking into the camera with big round eyes, a puzzled pout on your pink lips.

In fact, the picture wasn't that bad. You looked cute together, but you would never admit that. Chan looked up from his laptop and regarded the picture with a smile.

"That turned out well! You look like a scared kitten" he laughed, and that's when you saw Hyunjin uploading it to Bubble. Sighing, you let yourself fall back into the seat and felt Hyunjin put an arm around you and pull you against him. You leaned your head against his and watched him scroll through the comments and responses from Stays.

The responses were positive through and through. Many wrote how cute you looked and a whole lot of people wrote how beautiful they thought you were, that you were made for the Stray Kids and you blushed when Hyunjin teased you about it. The love you got from the fans was incredible. Soon you were swept to TikTok and watched videos while cuddling.

You laughed at funny edits and compilations where recordings of you and the Kids were cut together. Meanwhile, there were tons of shipping videos where intimate moments between you and the guys were recorded and put together.

Whether it was during the video shoots in the background, like the making of the teaser where you saw too late that Jeongin and you could be seen in the background while you were very close taking care of his nosebleed. Just in time, Hyunjin had turned off the camera and so your kiss was no longer filmed.

But your laughter died in your throat when a video popped up that also made Hyunjin squint his eyes.

At first you recognized the building by the little café with the green doors. It was only a few minutes walk from JYPE, so Chan usually got the coffee for you from there that you loved so much.

You all got lost there all the time during breaks or after work because it was tucked away in an alley and the boys were also very rarely recognised there.

That’s why it was even stranger that someone had filmed this very café.

Spellbound, you stared at the screen as it zoomed in until you could make out indistinct outlines behind the shop windows.

On the video you saw the outlines of a man and a smaller woman with blond hair. Even though the quality was really bad and you couldn't make out very much except for a few pixels, you knew who the girl was.

You had personally hired the stylist before the tour. She was Australian, had an excellent resume and was doing an excellent job so far.

She was really pretty and had quickly made friends with Chan. Her charm had not escaped you either. Even though it stung your chest every time you saw them chatting together, you never let on.

You couldn't. After all, you had a job to do.

There was wild speculation in the comments whether that was actually Bang Chan on the video, with a 'mystery' girl.

You could only see him from behind, but you knew immediately that it was him.

He wore the same jacket on the video as he did yesterday in the studio, and his posture was so familiar to you that there was no doubt in your mind.

In the video, the two were standing behind the window of the café and had obviously taken a break yesterday to get coffee. You had seen them leave the JYP building, but you hadn't given it a second thought because you were up to your neck in work.

Now your heart was tightened into a knot and stung uncomfortably in your chest when you saw Mina in the video giving Chan her bright smile. They were talking boisterously and despite the blurry image, due to the enormous zoom, you could see how beautiful she was.

Her blonde hair fell in waves over her shoulders and shone like liquid gold in the light.

You glanced briefly at Chan, but he was engrossed in his work and didn't notice anything.

What happened next in the video burst the knot in your chest, leaving painful shards that cut you from the inside out.

You looked closer at the screen, Hyunjins hands shivered and they actually kissed. There was no doubt about it.

You couldn't stand the video a second longer and jumped up from your seat. Hyunjin immediately turned off his phone and looked after you in panic as you excused yourself and disappeared into the bathroom.

He had also seen it for the first time and couldn't quite believe what had just happened.

Only when you saw your pale face in the mirror did your heart seem to start beating again. And it hammered painfully in time with your breathing.

It shouldn't affect you. No you shouldn't care. You were the manager and nothing more, you should be aware of that. Chan had explained to you what the arrangement was about. It was not a firm commitment and you had no right to feel that way. But then why did tears come to your eyes? Silently you sobbed into your hand, which you pressed forcefully over your mouth so that no one would hear you.

Your breathing panicked as you tried to calm yourself, but the pain in your chest bored deeper into your flesh with each breath.

It took a few breaths before you could get your body back to work normally. You winced violently as someone knocked on the door.

"Y/N? Are you in there?" you heard Hyunjin ask.

Hectically, you ripped paper from the dispenser and tried to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"Yes. I'm in here," you said in a shaky voice, trying not to sound too nasal. You cleared your throat hard and could hear him leaning his head against the door.

"How are you?"

With both thumbs, you brushed away remaining tears from under your eyes and took a deep breath. Then you opened the door with a jerk and put on a smile as soon as you looked Hyunjin in the eye.

"Everything's fine."

Concern gleamed in his eyes, and in wonder he watched you push past him. But you didn't run back to your place next to Chan.

Instead, you ran to Han and Minho who were sitting further back. As soon as you got near them, they made room and Han tapped the seat between them.

"Finally you join us, honey!"

You dropped down between them, trying not to show how much the video was bothering you. Automatically Minho put a hand on your knee and let his thumb circle over your thigh while he dozed off with his eyes closed.

"I wanted to see how you were doing back here," you said with a smile, watching Hyunjin walk back with a petrified look on his face.

"We're better now," Han purred, pressing a kiss to your neck, nibbling on your skin playfully until you giggled and pushed him away because it tickled.

Minho's hand was tight against your inner thigh, and though he didn't open his eyes, he gave you such a sense of security that you dared to breathe a sigh of relief. It wasn't until you landed that you remembered one thing that made you grind your teeth.

At the airport you would meet the rest of the team, which meant Mina too....

You wanted to throw up the moment you spotted her between the Secruity and the rest of the staff. Of course, the airport was littered with fans and press and the typical commotion began to break out around you as soon as the first people recognized Stray Kids.

You were led through the airport, accompanied by lightning storms, shouts and crowds. It was overwhelming every time, but right now you had completely different worries.

Your gaze automatically followed Chan, who hurried past the people with his eyes downcast. When you recognized Mina's blond mop of hair in front of him, you clenched both hands into fists and no longer heard all the chaos around you.

The guys all ran one after the other through a narrow aisle kept clear by security, waving to the fans and into the hundreds of cameras. Mina was about to let Chan through, since he was the last of the guys in front of you, but he put a hand on her back and let her pass safely down the aisle in front of him.

Your environment drifted into the background and although it was typical of Chan to be concerned about the welfare of others, tears were already pushing their way into the corners of your eyes again.

The video played continuously in your mind and you feared suffocation if you had to watch his hand touching her back for a second longer.

It took what felt like an eternity until you were out of the airport and reached the shuttle buses.

There, one by one, everyone climbed into the cars and when you reached the door, Chan, of all people, held the door open for you and offered you a hand so you could get in. Your eyes met for a moment and that broke the last fortitude, that was left in your body.

His warm amber eyes radiated the confidence that always gave you security, no matter how stressful it was. But right now, you couldn't think of anything but the pain you felt when you saw Mina and him kissing.

Despite the many cell phone cameras pointed at you, you ignored his hand and ran to the nearest bus where Seungmin and Felix were just getting on.

Jeongin reacted immediately and took your seat. Chan, on the other hand, looked after you in confusion and remained standing until Han called out to him to get on.

By the time you reached the hotel, you felt so sick that you had to lean against the reception desk while you waited for the room cards. You noticed Chan's inquiring gaze on you, you dodged his glare every time he tried to make contact. With the four room cards, you went back to the guys in the lobby and distributed them among them. There, too, you ignored Chan's hand when he tried to take a card for himself and Changbin.

But you couldn't even bear to stand near him.

So you sidestepped him and gave it directly to Changbin. Hyunjin and I.N went first to their room and were soon followed by Seungmin and Han. Without another word, you slipped into the next elevator while the rest were still chatting.

But before the door could close, an arm slid between the thick doors and Chan slipped in at the last moment. As soon as the elevator started moving, he turned to you.

"What's wrong?"

You could feel how much it bothered him that you ignored him, but even now you didn't dare look at him.

"Nothing." you replied dryly.

The soft elevator music punctuated your anger, which began to bubble with the stinging feeling in your chest.

"That's not true. You've been ignoring me since the flight. What have I done?"

You watched the rising numbers on the display, the details of what floor you were on, as if it was the most interesting thing you had ever seen.

"I'm sure you didn't do anything wrong."

The sentence came out a bit sharper than you wanted and when he remained silent and just stared at you, as if he would get any answer that way, you made the mistake of looking at him for a moment.

Immediately he recognized the sadness mixed with anger in your eyes.

"Talk to me, Y/N! You know you can trust me with anything and if I did something, please tell me!"

The elevator finally stopped on the right floor and just before the doors opened you snorted in annoyance.

"Why don't you ask Mina to talk to you? I'm sure she'd be interested."

You regretted the words as soon as they were spoken, but your head was full of blinding anger. Anger at yourself for acting so childish and not being able to do anything about it. Anger at the blonde girl and especially anger at Chan.

You quickly jumped out of the elevator and just wanted to leave. After only a few steps, Chan grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, making you look at him.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, by now with a darker tone and his piercing look sent a shiver down your spine.

"It's nothing!" it escaped you louder than you meant to, and you pried your hand from his grasp.

Chan looked more and more confused, and before you could whirl around again to leave, he was holding you by the arm again, pressing you against the red wallpaper of the hallway. It took your breath away as he leaned over you, his eyes flickering with rage.

"Then why are you treating me like this? You always keep everything bottled up. It's exhausting. Why don't you trust me?" he asked, sounding hurt. The grip on your arm was so tight it hurt, but he didn't seem to notice. He clenched his teeth hard and his jaw twitched.

His eyes were fixed on yours and you feared you had forgotten how to speak. His broad shoulders completely shielded you from the outside world and he made no move to let you go.

Tears now burned dangerously at the corners of your eyes and you swallowed painfully to push them back.

"It's all right," you tried to say in a strained voice, but gradually he seemed to catch on. Your words slowly got through to him and that's when you felt his grip on your arms loosen.

"You know about the kiss?" he asked quietly, suddenly dejected.

"It's all over the internet. You've been filmed."

His hands flew into his hair and he briefly turned his back to you as he groaned loudly:

"Fucking hell..."

You still pressed your hands tightly against the wall, not daring to move from the spot.

"Don't worry you won't be recognized. You can only speculate..." you said and that's when he turned back to you.

That he might be recognized was the least of his worries at the moment. He looked sad and there was something else in his eyes that you couldn't put your finger on.

"She just kissed me suddenly. I didn't want to..." he began, but you shook your head and stared at the floor.

His justifications were so much worse than being silent.

"It's okay Chan. You don't have to explain anything to me. You can do whatever you want," you replied a little more quietly as an older couple came out of one of the hotel rooms and eyed you curiously.

You took a few steps away from the wall and only when the people were gone did Chan reply:

"Oh yeah, so it doesn't bother you?"

"What do you want me to say?" you shouted in his face, your voice rolling over. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes and your lower lip quivered dangerously. Gradually, you didn't care if he saw you crying. The pain in your chest was too deep and every second you argued, you got progressively worse.

Chan threw his hands in the air and you had never seen him so loud and frantic before.

"That you're angry with me. That you hate me or just punch me. But don't say it's okay! You always do."

"I don't have the right to say anything Chan!"

"Why?"

His eyes were full of pain and you could see your own anger reflected in them.

"Because I'm not your girlfriend."

The sentence hung in the air like thick smog poisoning the atmosphere and Chan just stared.

You couldn't bear to look at his perplexed face for a second longer and turned to flee. You just wanted to bury yourself in your bed until the next flight and never have to speak again.

"So you don't care?" you heard Chan shout behind you. By now you couldn't hold back the tears and they streamed freely down your cheeks. You were already embarrassed about what a wreck you were, but inside it was tearing you apart.

Chan meant so much to you and now arguing with him like this was eating you up. When you didn't respond, he shouted emphatically:

"Y/N! Look me in the eye and say you don't care! Then I'll leave you alone."

So you turned around after all. When he saw your face flooded with tears, he froze and would have loved to run to you to pull you into his arms. He regretted all of his words and hated himself for his anger issues that he never wanted to take them out on you.

He didn't know you were crying, and seeing you with swollen eyes and wet cheeks, your body now finally shaken by bloodcurdling sobs, was a sight he never wanted to see or trigger.

He felt terribly guilty, but no words escaped his lips.

"I do," you murmured, wrapping your arms around your body.

"What?"

His voice was brittle and his eyes red. He was on the verge of breaking down. Only extreme tension kept him from becoming a blubbering mess.

"I care about it! I care about you, idiot! I hate seeing you with her! I hate even more how it makes me feel. It fucking hurts like hell and I know I have no right to feel this way, but I want to cry and lash out when I see her around you!" you sobbed and by now the entire hallway must have heard you.

"I shouldn't have let all this happen.... I knew you'd get hurt if you came near me."

His voice softened again and he took a step towards you.

"No. It was my choice. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to the arrangement."

Chan shook his head, gritted his teeth, and wanted to touch you. Warningly, you raised a hand to keep him from coming closer. The intimidating anger in his eyes was burned into your memory and you wouldn't forget it anytime soon.

It was all too much for you, and if he took one more step toward you, you couldn't guarantee anything. Your emotions were caught in a whirlpool of rage, fear and sadness over which you no longer had any control.

"Stay away! Please don't come any closer!"

At your shaky voice, something inside him broke, but he immediately stopped and raised his hands to signal that he wouldn't hurt you.

"Chan, if I'm just a fucktoy to you, that's fine, but then tell me."

He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at you uncomprehendingly. The silence that followed was answer enough and you wanted to throw up, fall to the floor and choke on your own tears.

Why had you been so blind? He had made it clear from the beginning that it would never amount to a relationship with him or any of the others.

Your stupid feelings were all your fault.

"I understand..."

It was just a huff, and you had knocked on Hyunjin's hotel room faster than Chan could respond. He could only watch as the door opened and closed again behind you.

Chan slammed his fist against the wall and cursed loudly. He had ruined everything and driven away the person who meant so much to him. His biggest fear had become reality and it was all his fault.

Hyunjin pulled you into his arms without hesitation and just held you while your body was shaken by heart-wrenching sobs.

Together you sat down on the bed, where he hugged you tightly and never let go.

You didn't have to say what was going on. No words were necessary and you were grateful to him for that. He was just there, holding you, whispering soothing words and keeping you company until the tears subsided and you fell asleep exhausted in his arms.

->Part 22

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writeforfandoms · 5 months ago

Text

Shatter Me 20

Find the series masterlist

Uh. Okay. So. I'm sure this is not what you're expecting, but trust me when I say it's going to be okay. I have A Plan.

Warnings: Emotional turmoil, little bit of abandonment, canon compliant, swearing, emotional overwhelm.

Word count: 2.4k

At Fett’s insistence, you joined him up top, settling into a seat with only a little hesitation. He wasn’t chatty, and he was harder to read than Din, at least to you. But his presence was… not quite restful. Almost soothing.

You were confident, if nothing else, Fett wouldn’t let any harm come to you. For Din’s sake, even if not for your own. That was fine. You didn’t care as much why.

And Din definitely had more friends, more pull, than you did. Which was funny, considering how he came across at first.

The blue and white of space outside lit the interior, casting odd lights on everything.

It could have just been you and your sentimentality, but… it didn’t look as nice from here. From this ship.

“Prepare to exit jumpspace,” Fett said over the comms, helmet briefly tipping your direction. You grimaced and held on tighter to the straps of your seat.

“Copy that,” Bo Katan’s voice came over the comm. “Get the hell out of there as soon as they clear us to dock. And your shots have to look convincing.”

“Power up those shields, princess. I’ll put on a good show.” You didn’t have to see him to guess at his expression. He sounded darkly amused, something that niggled in the back of your brain. A learned response to that tone, a warning to hide.

Not that you had anywhere to hide on this ship. Not that you needed to hide from him.

“Watch out for those deck cannons,” Bo Katan shot back. Something in her tone made you think she didn’t like Fett very much.

“Don’t worry about me. Just be careful in there.” Fett sounded quieter. Softer, almost. You couldn’t tell how much he was speaking to Bo Katan, or to Fennec and the others. (You guessed more to Fennec and Din, considering he already had a relationship with them.)

The ship jolted a little as it dropped out of hyperspace, and you took a deep breath. Go time.

Not that you had to do anything but hold on.

Fett didn’t waste any time, firing on the other ship. If you hadn’t known the plan, you would have thought it was real. Fett swerved to follow the ship, and your stomach swooped with the motion. You couldn’t hear what was going on in the other ship, but you did see when the first TIE fighter deployed.

“Kriff,” Fett grumbled, more to himself than you.

You glanced at him, eyes wider than normal, and swallowed hard. The plan was not to get embroiled in a real firefight.

Green flashes from behind made you clench your hands tighter around the straps. At least one TIE fighter had gotten behind you. Fett didn’t seem bothered, all his focus on the controls, even as he chased the other ship towards the Light Cruiser.

He broke off at the last moment, swerving away. The ship juddered with an impact against the shields, made worse when Fett spun the ship around to shoot the TIE fighters still following. He evened out the ship and jumped back into hyperspace.

And now you waited.

“Alright there, little one?” His tone had gentled some as he addressed you.

“Yeah,” you answered, only a little higher than normal. “I’m fine.”

He hummed softly but didn’t disagree with you. “Mechanic, huh?”

You blinked at him, surprised at the relative small talk. Then again, the two of you would be waiting for an unknown amount of time… Might as well.

“Yeah. Started when I was a kid. My dad taught me everything he knew.”

He nodded slowly, hands relaxed on the controls. “My father taught me to be a warrior,” he mused. “And left me this armor.”

“Is that why you’re helping Din?” The question left your mouth before you could think about the repercussions.

He looked at you again, assessing if you had to guess. It was hard to guess with the blank visor staring you down. “He returned my armor to me,” Fett agreed. “And I swore to him that I would see the child safely returned to him.”

You nodded slowly. It made sense, from what you’d come to know of Mandalorians through Din - they valued their armor above basically everything else. Although you had seen that Fett was willing to take his helmet off, more like the other Mandalorians you’d met what felt like ages ago.

“I started traveling with him because my sister pushed me to,” you admitted, speaking slowly. It felt good to say, even if you didn’t think Fett really cared. “He terrified me, at first. But… I’m glad I stayed.”

“Loyalty is worth more than any credits,” Fett agreed. “Especially when that loyalty goes both ways.”

You looked at him, startled, ready to object on autopilot… But he was right. Din was loyal to you, in a lot of ways you hadn’t really looked at before. Your heart swelled, warming you through.

Fett’s chuckle made you dip your head, embarrassed.

“You may as well get comfortable,” he advised. “We may be waiting a while.”

You took his advice. You didn’t leave, because you didn’t want to be taken by surprise when the call came in, but you did undo the straps on your chair. You relaxed. You listened to the ship, what you could anyway while it was semi-parked in open space.

You still wanted to get a look at the innards of the ship. Maybe if there was time after Din and Grogu came back.

After all, Din’s ship was gone, so the three of you would probably need to get a ride back to… somewhere. You weren’t sure where exactly.

You’d figure it out later. Once Din and Grogu were back with you.

Somehow, you still jumped when the comm crackled to life.

“All done here,” Fennec said from the other end. “Ready for pickup.”

“Copy that,” Fett replied, already inputting the coordinates again. “Anything I need to know about?”

“Not until you get here.” Fennec didn’t sound foreboding, exactly, but… You wondered what that meant. She would have said something if someone was seriously hurt, right?

You didn’t have long to spiral in your thoughts, though. Fett grunted acknowledgement and pushed the ship into hyperspace.

It wasn’t long until the ship dropped out of hyperspace, revealing the Light Cruiser. It didn’t look any different from the outside.

But you weren’t so concerned with that.

Fett found a place to dock the ship. Fortunately, he didn’t try to stop you when you scrambled out of the ship as soon as you could.

You needed to see Din and Grogu, see that they were okay.

Din met you in the hanger, looking a little ruffled but fine, helmet firmly in place. But his arms were empty.

You couldn’t see Grogu.

“He went with a Jedi.” He spoke softly, not keeping you waiting.

“What?” You froze, feeling as if you’d misunderstood somehow. Because Din had promised you that he and Grogu would come back.

“A Jedi came,” Din repeated slowly, hands open at his sides. He didn’t move towards you. “I let him go. It’s what I’ve been working towards. For him to be with his own kind.”

You breathed in, tears blurring your vision. You’d known that, you’d known Din wanted to find a Jedi to take Grogu, but… now? So soon? “I didn’t get to see him,” you whispered, heart aching.

Din shifted forward and stopped himself, pulling back slowly. “I’m sorry,” was all he offered, visor fixed on you.

You shook your head, too emotionally overwhelmed to answer him properly. One shaking hand lifted to wipe the wetness from your cheeks.

“Is he okay?” you finally managed to ask, voice trembling. “Was he hurt?”

“He’s safe,” Din promised, finally taking a single step closer to you, both hands lifting like he wanted to take hold of you. But he didn’t. He held himself back that last little bit. “He is unharmed. And he will be safe with the Jedi.”

You nodded, even as your shoulders hunched tighter. Which was ridiculous. This was what you’d wanted, right? For the kid to be safe, to be with his own people?

…Right?

Fennec slipped silently past you with no more than a glance and a quick touch to your shoulder. Your breath shuddered on the way in, and you tried to wrestle yourself back under control. You were making a fuss and you didn’t need to. Everyone was safe. No one was hurt.

Even if Grogu was gone.

“So what now?” You wiped your eyes again, refusing to meet Din’s gaze, even if you could. Instead you focused on his chest, checking the beskar for any new marks.

“We see if Fett will take us somewhere,” Din said, hands falling back to his sides, hands opening and closing like he wanted to grab something. “From there, it will be easy to find passage to another planet.”

You nodded slowly, trying to slow your breathing and calm yourself. It wasn’t easy. But you managed it after a few minutes of quiet.

“Okay,” you croaked. “Okay.”

Din stepped closer, slowly, like he expected you to reject him. When you didn’t, one hand took your elbow, helping to steady you and hold you close.

“Ready?” he asked, low and quiet.

You nodded, unwilling to trust your voice for now. Din helped you back onto the ship, staying next to you.

“If you need transport, I am going back to Tattooine,” Fett said before either of you could ask.

“That would be appreciated,” Din accepted with a nod.

Fett inclined his head and climbed back up into the cockpit, Fennec following him up.

Leaving you and Din in the hold together.

The ramp closed, and Din ushered you to a seat, seeming concerned. You didn’t brush him off, needing the stability of him to regain your own internal balance.

“Are you sure he’ll be okay?” you whispered, half-certain Din wouldn’t hear you as the engines whirred back to life.

“He will be,” Din answered with more confidence than you could fathom right then. “We will see him again.”

You breathed out slowly, soothed despite yourself with his confidence. Grogu would be okay, at the very least. If you were lucky, you'd see him again. Things would be okay. This wasn't the end.

The trip back to Tatooine was largely quiet. You were already thinking of offering to look at Boba's ship, as a bit of repayment for the ride and his help. Only if he wanted you to, though.

Din sat next to you the entire trip, one thigh pressed to yours, his pauldron hurting you a little where it dug into your shoulder. You didn't say anything about it - the pain was rather grounding, helping you to focus on the here and now, rather than spiraling out of control again.

But the second time your head tipped sideways and thunked against the beskar, Din removed it, leaving his softer flight suit instead.

You had to admit, his shoulder made a better pillow than his pauldron did.

His arm shifted, giving you a little more room to settle in, and you melted against him with a tiny, contented sigh.

No, things were not perfect. Or even good. But this? This was a lot. This was good.

And in a life that hadn't had a lot of good things, especially recently, you clung to the good things.

The ship shuddered as it entered atmo, and you blinked rapidly. When had you even dropped out of hyperspace? You didn't remember. Had you actually fallen asleep?

Din seemed unruffled when you sat up, merely shifting his weight, helmet tipping towards you.

“Sounds like we're almost there,” he rasped.

“Yeah.” You straightened a little, glancing at him. “Where are we going next?”

Din hesitated, holding very still. “I'll need to check in with the guild,” he said slowly.

“Okay.” You could work with that. You'd already spent a good portion of your life not knowing exactly what came next. This wouldn't be so hard. Not with Din.

The ship landed smoothly, and all of you exited. Boba had set down near the spaceport, within easy walking distance, but still away enough from what crowds Tatooine had to have some privacy.

“You should be able to find passage from here,” he said, inclining his head towards the large transport vessels. “I will be remaining here, on Tatooine.”

Din inclined his head. “Your help has been invaluable. Thank you.”

Boba returned the nod and walked back onto his ship. Fennec lingered near the ramp, facing away from you and Din.

And Din… Din looked at you. Hands open at his sides. He breathed in deep, straightening his shoulders.

“Maybe you'd be happier staying here.”

The world fell out from under your feet. Your heart plummeted, chest constricting so tight you were surprised all your organs didn't simply give up. No. There was no way… Din wasn't… He wouldn't…

“This life is dangerous,” Din continued. “You know that. It's hard on you. I've noticed. I don't even have a ship anymore.”

All true, but. Why was he leaving you? Why now? You'd thought… you'd thought…

“I want you to be safe.” Din reached out one hand, slowly, until his glove-encased hand closed around yours. “I have things I need to do. Things that are for Mandalorians.”

You shook your head slowly, too stunned and overwrought to form words, or even to cry.

“I'll check on you, when I come back,” he promised, voice low and intent. He really thought he was doing what was best. “Be well. Stay with Peli.”

He released your hand, which dropped limp to your side, cold and unfeeling. He stepped back, your feet rooted to the sand, heavy and thick.

He turned and walked away. Your shoulders hunched. Your world shattered.

You stared after him, unblinking, unmoving, even as grains of sand stung your face.

“If you're looking for a job,” Fennec said from somewhere behind you, voice even and casual, “we could use a mechanic. There's a lot of work that needs to be done.”

You breathed in, everything muted. You couldn't feel your extremities. Couldn't feel much of anything past the vice wrapped around the gaping loss in your chest.

There was nothing else for you, now.

“Let's go.”

#shatter me #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #f!reader

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