#the way he didn’t hesitate for a second and his voice broke a little

[ode2rin]

US, AGAIN .ೃ

pairing. itoshi sae x gn!reader

genre. second chance (exes back to lovers!) | a bit of small town romance | a sprinkle of childhood friends to lovers (past) | angst with a happy ending 

content/warnings. 5.2k+ wc | characters are aged 25 in the present | pro-athlete!sae x coffee shop owner!reader | sae left for spain at 19 in here | mentions of sae’s vague past (especially the striker dream) | itoshi bros conflict never happened here let me be delusional | heavy in narration | minimal proofread

in which: itoshi sae returns to the only place on earth he vows to never set foot again.

💭 flashbacks are italicized and indented :>

Six years.

In those six long years of his absence, you couldn't deny that you rehearsed countless scenarios of encountering him upon his return. 

If by chance he still wanted to see you, or even look at you, you imagined giving him a small smile, a carefully crafted facade of composure, before gracefully walking away, as if life had moved on effortlessly for both of you.

That’s what you imagined. Just walk away, like how life went on for the both of you. 

But reality never seemed to align with your reveries. The sight of him wasn't remotely serene enough to prompt a composed exit. Seeing him made your throat tighten, and your heart danced in a rhythm only he could create.

Six damn years had passed since you last saw him on that balcony, and now, with him back in town, avoiding him seemed like the only right thing to do.

You don’t know how long he’ll be here, but it is now your life mission to avoid him at all cost. Today's encounter was just an unfortunate event—an inevitable twist of fate. Their house was literally right in front of your family's, making it hard to escape the nearness of the past.

“So, he’s back in town?” 

Hari's voice, your co-worker and now a dear friend, snapped you back from the reverie of yesterday's memories. The sound of her voice broke through the nostalgic haze, pulling you back to the present.

“What?”

“I asked if your childhood friend who is also a superstar slash professional athlete slash your only ex is back,” she mischievously asked, even miming quotation marks to emphasize each title she created.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head at her antics. Your gaze drifted to the freshly baked pastries, their delightful aroma greeting your senses like a warm embrace as you artfully displayed them on the shelves. The familiar scent of coffee and delightful confections used to calm you, but now it mingled with the storm of emotions inside.

“Yeah, it's basically the talk of the town. He's famous after all,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant and still focused on your work, using it as a shield to hide your vulnerability.

But in reality, the sight of him earlier had caught you off guard, and you had turned the other way to avoid him. Your heart was still racing from the almost encounter, and the comforting ambiance of your coffee shop provided little solace.

“Did he see you?”

“I pray to all saints that he didn’t,” you deadpanned, your facade of composure beginning to falter.

“What did he look like now?”

You hesitated, your mind flashing back to that fleeting glimpse of him earlier.

Far from what was once mine. “Good.”

“That’s it? Good?”

No. He looked gorgeous. He looked painfully gorgeous.

“What do you want me to say?” you countered, throwing a side glance to her persistence.

In that fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of how much he had changed. He looked undeniably handsome, lean, and with a certain maturity that hadn't been there before.

He… looked different.

And that's good—for you and for him. It meant that life there treated him well, and it eased some of the lingering guilt you carried.

You and Hari fell into a consuming silence, your backs turned away from each other. Even with closed eyes, you sensed that she wanted to ask something. You didn't want to initiate the conversation, but this suffocating silence had to go.

As you stepped behind the counter, you were met with Hari's concerned eyes and a voice laden with hesitation. “What are you going to do then?” she carefully asked.

You pressed your lips together, momentarily at a loss for words.

So you did what you do best: mask hurting with laughter.

“Is there anything I should do?” you paused, the sound of your fake laughter ringing in your ears. “It's been years. We made a choice.”

But Hari wasn't ready to let the matter rest, and you don’t know how to tell her you’re close to calling it a day. “You made a choice for him,” she countered gently, her tone filled with empathy.

Stunned was an understatement. Caught off guard would be an apt description. But speechless was exactly how you felt.

That, you couldn't mask with anything.

So you did what you weren’t best at: admitting the truth.

“And I’ll do it again,” you whispered in return. It was faint, because it was more for you than more of a reply to her. 

You were both young, and half oblivious to what it would be like outside, where the world wasn’t painted in golden hues and the gentle waves were replaced by blaring cars.

You were both seventeen, young and living for the hope of it all.

But you lived for days like those – days where both of you just had to be kids still. No worries, no voices of what might come.

“Tell me about your dreams, Sae.” “Tch. You already know about it.”

You did. All of it, you knew. Since you were kids, no one knew him like you did. You were his lover and confidant. You knew about it, all too well and all too much.

“Come on!” you persisted, giving him an enthusiastic look. “The sky looks so pretty in this sunset, I want it to know about us.” The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the beach as you and Sae sat side by side in the sand. The sound of gentle waves caressed your ears, creating a serene backdrop for your beach date. He hesitated for a moment, looking out at the horizon. Then there it was, a glint of determination flashed in his usually reserved eyes. “To be the best striker in the world.” You couldn't help but be captivated by the sight. It was the first time you had seen such an unusual spark in his eyes. Sae's gaze was often cold and impersonal, but now it was as if stars were hanging in his eyes, reflecting the infinite possibilities of his dreams. Sae is handsome, mysteriously beautiful even. But this, nothing will beat how dreamy he looks when he speaks of his craft. You liked this look on him - so ambitious, so driven. It made your heart flutter with admiration. Seeing this glint in his eyes right now, you knew you wanted to do anything in your power to let it stay there.

And you did, you held on and held out. Until you turned nineteen, when you had let him go to the big cities where he rightfully belonged. 

You smiled, a genuine, heartwarming smile, and leaned in to press a tender kiss on his cheek. “I’m sure you will be the best.”

Maybe you bit off more than what you could chew, but in the end, you’d do it all over again. Because what you did, the choice you made – it was for the best.

You were both nineteen, young and eager to grasp the world's offerings with hopeful hands. 

But despite the certainty you tried to hold onto, there were nights when the memories tugged at your heartstrings like it did now. You knew it was the right choice, that you both needed to chase your dreams separately — especially his dreams. But it didn't erase the whispers of what-ifs that occasionally crept into your mind.

But life — life went on. Life never waits for anyone, anyway. And so, you worked diligently to craft a future that no longer had room for regrets.

But love leaves echoes, and his presence back in town stirred those dormant feelings. With him being in the same place, you felt like a stranger in your own town.

It was easier when he was thousands of miles away, an untouchable star on a different horizon. But now, with the universe conspiring to bring you close again, you couldn't help but feel like a wanderer in the galaxy of memories you built together.

After all, everything here in this town is about you and him. 

Six years.

Was it that long? He couldn’t really tell. Maybe time really does pass fast when your life is falling apart.

It has been six years since Sae has sat on the balcony of his childhood home. And like the sick bastard fate was, he’s welcomed by the sight of your horrified yet still so damn fucking beautiful face.

Perhaps the saints you prayed to didn’t hear any of your pleas, because despite calling out to each one, Sae saw you.

There you were, a flicker in the periphery of his vision, desperately trying to avoid him. He was trained to be very aware of his field of vision, so there was no way he wasn’t able to notice your frantic leaving and the hurried closing of your house’s door as you noticed him. 

He let you be, holding back the overwhelming desire to call out your name like he used to when both of you were running late to class. He let you be, because if you were to ask him, he wouldn’t know how to look you in the eye without a thousand words reflecting on his own. 

[Attention, everyone. This is the final boarding call for passengers of flight 924 to Madrid, Spain. Again, this is the final –] “Sae, you’re going to miss your flight. They’re not coming.” No. “They’re not coming, Sae. You have to get on the plane.” No. No. Shut up.

He needed you there, more than anyone. A thousand people could cheer and show up for Itoshi Sae, but his eyes will always search the crowd for just one — just yours.

Yet, alas, you were nowhere to be found. And so, that very same day, Sae vowed to never come back to this place.

He hated this town and you, he’s convinced.

Sae had always been indifferent to a lot of people, everyone knew that. But never in a hundred years would anyone who knew you both think you’d be on that list. And deep down, he didn’t want to believe it either – until that day you decided not to show up when you promised you would.

He wasn't stupid. He had an inkling of why you did what you did. Yet, irrationality overpowered reason, and all he wanted that day was to run the distance between the airport and your house – to see your face, to remind you that he had plans, plans for both of you.

When Sae’s manager informed him that he needed to come home for a while to renew his passport, it was as if all of his suppressed recollections of this place – of you, came pouring out to his soul all at once.

Every street, every corner, every memory — they all threatened to consume him. His family, Rin, this town, and you – you were all the things he left behind for the dream.

Dream. Best Striker in the world. What did it even mean? Long ago, he thought he knew.

But it had to work. Everything had to work. He lost you for this dream. And if he loses it too, then what does that make him? A sore failure. And Sae was never known to be admissible to failing.

Whatever hell he encountered on the other side of the world, he swore he would never return home. Even when he was traversing across a path to ruin of being the person he thought he would be, he would never ever choose to come home.

Anywhere, but here. Anywhere, but home.

So there he was, the renowned glorious prodigy of japan. He was close to everything after countless mishaps. 

He’s getting closer and closer to the new dream yet getting farther and farther away from home.

Home. What does it even mean? Lately, he doesn’t even know. 

And after that day, no one ever mentioned your name to him. No one in his new world knew about you. No one knew how Itoshi Sae's world used to revolve around someone's soft smiles and easy eyes. 

He never asked anyone not to mention you; he wasn't one to ask, after all. But for some reason, no one dared to. Not even Rin. It was as if one mention of you in his presence was a carefully crafted brick used to make his castles crumble to the ground.

He hated that, but maybe they were right. Because with just a second's worth of a glimpse of you from earlier, Sae indeed felt his castles crumbling, piece by piece.

He hates you, for making his resolve crumble. For being the one person who can make his vow to never look back fall apart.

He hates you, because everything in this forsaken place is about you and him. Memories of your shared youth are etched into the very walls and streets, haunting him like ghosts of a past he can't escape.

He hates you, for not trusting you two would work it out somehow, and for giving up before the game even began.

He hates you, because it was easier that way. Easier to pretend he didn't care, that you didn't matter, and that you were just another soul he knows a little too much of.

Sae could go on and on listing a hundred more, and yet he knows, only one of it was true – and that he hates you for making him convince himself that he does, just to cope with leaving half of his heart to the only place he vowed never to come back to.

It was a jinx to say that yesterday’s encounter was already an unfortunate event, because today, you literally learned a whole new degree of unfortunate and unlucky – by having Itoshi Sae as your first customer of the day. 

“Welcome! How may I help you toda— S-Sae.”

And to even top it off, today was Hari’s day off. It meant that you’re currently alone in the same confined four-cornered room with the person you swore you would avoid like it’s your life mission.

Damn it, Hari. Of all days. Her day off really had to be today.

Itoshi Sae, in the goddamn flesh, is standing in your place two meters away from you, yet you’re having a hard time feeling your feet on the ground and your heart beating so damn loud. 

He wasn’t looking at you (thank god), and had his eyes exploring the place with a neutral expression playing on his face. Suddenly, you feel like sixteen again back when he was looking at the first set of cookies you’ve ever baked and you were dying to hear what he thinks of your craft.

“It’s yours?”

You gulp. 

You gulped down the urge to tear up with how much his voice changed. You gulped down the urge to cry because he assumed you had your dream turn into reality too.

“Yeah,” you replied in whisper, your eyes following where he was looking, trying to avoid any chance it will meet his, “it’s not much but —”

“It’s beautiful.” Even before Sae could hear your meek comment of yourself, he cut you off.

You were always like that —downplaying your hard work, belittling yourself even before someone does. He hated that about you. 

He used to get mad at you for it, especially when someone made fun of you at school and you didn’t defend yourself. He always makes you cry whenever he points it out, so he stopped. Instead, he made it his role to rebuild your confidence. Sae wasn't known for being generous in compliments. It would probably take one hand to count all the instances that he genuinely called someone along the lines of not dumb, stupid, lukewarm. 

But it was never the case with you. With you, to say beautiful was always a second nature to Sae's tongue.

And he wasn’t lying though. Your coffee shop was really charmingly cozy, and so like you. It’s so much alike to what you used to tell him how you envisioned it would be. 

The coffee shop was a quaint haven nestled right at the edge of the sandy shore. Its exterior, adorned with weathered wooden panels and soft, warm hues, exuded a rustic charm that welcomed passersby with open arms. Sunlight spilled through large windows, casting gentle rays that danced upon the vintage, mosaic-tiled floor.

It’s beautiful, and it’s in front of our place. He wanted to say to you, but he stopped at beautiful not wanting to make things more awkward than it should.

The coffee shop, it’s right in front of the beach. It’s in front of that one spot you and him used to call ours. 

It’s the first thing he noticed before coming inside, and it made him wonder whether you knew or he’s the only one who remembers it even now.

Bashful, you uttered a silent thank you to his remark, “What would you like to order?” you followed up, trying to maintain composure despite your heart racing in your chest.

Noticing that he’s been too silent for someone who’s about to order something, you looked up to your menu, and immediately, you understood his silence. If one were to point out, it is too immediate for someone who’s almost strangers to each other.

“We have non-caffeinated drinks too,” you hurriedly said to him, your voice quivering slightly as you tried to break the spell of awkward silence.

He gulps, his eyes locked with yours in a moment that felt like eternity.

He can’t drink coffee, it ruins his body clock, and you knew that. You still know that.

It appears that he's not the only one who remembers, after all.

A thousand emotions danced in his eyes, each one a testament to the love that once blossomed between you. The coffee shop, once a quaint haven, now felt like a crucible of emotions, and the atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, heavy with the weight of what could have been.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you couldn't look away, despite the rush of memories and unspoken words flooding your mind. It was as if time had folded in on itself, and you were once again those young souls who found solace in each other's presence.

But this was different, much more complicated. The past was a turbulent sea, and even though you had both moved on with your lives, there was still a deep, lingering connection that couldn't be severed.

Yet, you knew better than to let those emotions take control. You made a choice, you have to stand by it.

You were no longer the naive teenagers who believed love could conquer all. Reality had taught you both harsh lessons, and the wounds of the past still lingered, threatening to reopen with each stolen glance.

“I’ll have your best seller of it then,” he finally broke the silence, his voice steady despite the tempest inside.

With a nod, you turned to prepare his order, your hands trying to steady themselves. You couldn't help but wonder if he noticed the tremor in your fingers or the way your heart seemed to echo in every beat.

As you handed him his drink, your fingertips brushed lightly against his hand, and for a brief moment, the world stood still.

He took the cup from you, and for a fleeting moment, you both lingered, almost as if neither of you wanted to let go. He could stay in this, playing pretend. Pretend none of it happened, pretend he never left, pretend it worked out in the end.

But he can’t, not when you stepped back first, breaking the contact between you and reminding him of the choice you made.

“Thank you,” he managed to say, his voice softer now, filled with a hint of something even he couldn't quite decipher.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

And just like that, the moment passed, slipping through your fingers like sand. He turned to leave, and you watched him walk away, every step taking him farther from the life you once shared.

Perhaps, in some parallel universe, there existed a version of you who chose differently, who stayed intertwined with him in a tale of love that defied all odds. But here, in this reality, both of you were no longer who you used to be.

In this universe, you're just some two ghosts standing in the place of you and him, haunted by the memories of what once was while trying to remember what it feels to have a heartbeat.

After Sae’s visit yesterday, saying that you weren’t doing fine would be a gross understatement. 

Your emotions were all over the place, and you couldn't seem to find a stable ground for your thoughts. It didn't help when your parents casually mentioned that he was leaving town later today. Apparently, Mrs. Itoshi had a little gossip session with the neighbors, unknowingly revealing a piece of her oldest son's business.

He’s leaving, and that's good—for you and for him.

As you stood behind the counter of the coffee shop, you absentmindedly glanced out the window, your eyes drawn to the beach. The sight of the shore brought back a flood of memories.

Maybe in another life, the two of you could still dance along the sandy shore, playfully splashing water at each other. He would chase after you, catching hold of your waist as he sweeps you off your feet. And perhaps, just perhaps, you would have the chance to embrace him tightly once again, with your arms wrapped around his neck while you share a kiss as greedy and fiery as the sea’s yearning for the moon.

And maybe, in another life, your story wouldn’t end with both of you being strangers who know a little too much about each other.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the tears streaming down your cheeks until Hari whispered, “Y/N... you're crying.”

“Oh, I am,” you admitted, trying to regain your composure.

Your heart lurched as you tried to suppress the tears, but they kept flowing relentlessly. “Hari…” you whispered, shocked by your own emotional outpouring.

Hari's eyes reflected pity as she watched you, her voice soft and understanding. “Go,” she encouraged, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Get your man. I'll take care of everything here.”

The words hit you like a lifeline, a spark of hope igniting within you. You quickly removed your apron and grabbed your keys, determined to catch him before it was too late. 

But before you could dash out, Hari's voice echoed through the shop, loud and clear, “Go! Be happy! And for the love of god, no more sacrifices as a love language!”

With one last glance at her and your coffee shop, you rushed out the door.

The airport seemed like a maze of bustling strangers as you frantically searched for the departure gates. Every passing second felt like an eternity, the fear of missing him consuming you.

Desperation and determination fueled your steps as you approached the flight attendant, your voice trembling, “Flight to Spain — I need to know about the flight to Spain for today.”

The attendant looked at you with sympathy, “I'm sorry, but all flights to Spain have already left. The last one left twenty minutes ago.”

Your heart sank, but you couldn't give up that easily. “Can you check again? Please. I-I need to see him. Please.”

The attendant double-checked, but the outcome remained unchanged. 

Twenty damn minutes. You lost him in just that short amount of time.

Your heart shattered as you realized you had missed your chance. The desperation in your eyes was evident as you felt your world crumbling around you.

In the midst of the bustling airport, you allowed yourself to grieve for what could have been and for the chances you never took.

Six years ago, you were supposed to be here. And maybe if you did, you wouldn't find yourself six years after, wishing you did things differently.

The drive back felt like the longest journey of your life. 

The sinking sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink as you approached the familiar place. As you got closer, you noticed that the shop was already closed, and you assumed Hari had taken care of everything. 

But what caught you off guard was the sight of Sae standing there, in front of your place, with a suitcase by his side, as if he were meant to be on a flight rather than standing there.

“You're here,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest as you got closer.

“I’m here.”

“Why didn't you leave?” you asked.

Because I’m done convincing myself that I hate you, Sae hesitated to say.  “Why did you go to the airport?” he countered instead, avoiding your question.

Because I’m done telling myself that I did the right thing. 

There were so many things you wanted to say, but the words were caught in your throat. You bit your lip, not ready to answer his question just yet.

Impatient and desperate, Sae took his chances to ask you the only question that mattered to him at this point, “Tell me you don't love me anymore. I will go. I will do as you please. I just need to hear it from you.”

Your eyes widened at his sudden question, but Sae wasn’t done yet. “Answer me. It’s a yes or no question.”

Lost in a whirlwind of emotions, you couldn't hold back the torrent of words that poured from your heart.

“A yes or no question, you say? Every night, I think of you.”

With each word, your voice wavered, and you couldn't help but express the worries that had plagued you during his absence.

“Were you eating properly? Does the food there suit your liking? You’re a bit picky. Is it too hot there? Were you taking your supplements? Were you being hard on yourself again? Is... is there someone new? There must be, right?”

As the words left your lips, you realized just how much you had been consumed by thoughts of him, wondering about every aspect of his life, even when he was miles away from you.

His reaction to you holding forth seemed to intensify at your last question, but right now, you weren’t ready to listen to him. He needs to listen to you.

“Every single night of the past six years, I yearned for you. I yearned to have you close. I yearned to hold your face just once more. And fuck, I would’ve traded all my tomorrows for just one yesterday with you.”

With those words, the floodgates of emotion burst open, and tears streamed down your cheeks. 

Fuck, six years. For six years, you held on and held out. Would it have been easier if both of you had tried, and along the way, lost? Would it have alleviated the pain of what-ifs and what could have been's if you had bargained, if you had gambled? Or would it all have led you right back to this moment, grappling with the same heartache and uncertainty?

Finally, meeting his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own emotions in his. But you weren’t done yet.

“And you dare ask me if I love you. Well, does that answer your fucking question, Itoshi?”

“Then, don’t cross it out. Don’t ever cross it out again.”

Cross what…out?

“I saw your letter,” Sae admitted, causing a momentary confusion to wash over you. 

My letter… Bewildered, you couldn't form the right words, and he took it as a sign to continue, and to close the distance between you to hold your hands.

“Tell me, how could I leave after reading that, knowing the only soul who truly knew me was here? You own me, Y/N.”

“I told you countless times before, you own me,” Sae reaffirmed, his grip on your hand tightening as he drew it closer to his lips, planting tender kisses upon your skin. 

“There was no one,” he continued, his words carrying a sense of reassurance. “And there's no other warmth comparable to yours that I'd ever let myself bask in. And if there's any, I'd be only fooling myself, pretending it was you instead.”

Sae's voice grew softer, yet resolute. “You own me, even when I'm on the other side of the world. You own me, Y/N. Even in the distance that separated us, even in the years that you claim I'm not."

He stepped closer, his eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “No place can ever own me as much as you do. So, don't ever cross your I love you's to me. I want them – all. I don't want your sorry's.”

“But I’m sorry,” you whispered, for the last time. But Sae gently wiped away your tears.

“It's ‘I love you’ from now on.”

For a moment, you both stayed like that, trying to make up for the lost time. Sae, much like you, dreamed of the day he gets to hold you close once again. He dreamed of a day he gets to watch the sunset from the reflection of your eyes again.

Sae could go on and on listing a hundred more reasons why he shouldn't be standing here, and yet he knew, only one of it was true – and that he hated himself for convincing himself that he shouldn't be here – to you, in his hometown.

Sae may have vowed to never come back to this place, but it was always a lie, because for all he knew, it's the only place he truly belonged. Half of his heart was left here, with you.

“Come on,” Sae said, and you followed him, curiosity in your eyes.

“Where are we going?”

“There,” Sae pointed to the beach, your spot, specifically. “To our place. The sky looks pretty, and I want it to know about us, again.”

“Us... again?” you asked hesitantly.

“If you would take me back.” Sae answered, a hint of fear in his eyes, afraid that he might be assuming this second chance for the two of you.

You took his hand in response, and squeezed it three times. “I want nothing more than to be with you, again.”

Without any more words, Sae gently cupped your cheeks, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The touch of his fingers was both familiar and new.

In the fading light of the day, his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The anticipation hung heavy in the air as you leaned closer to each other, your breath hitched as his warm breath mingled with yours.

His lips were soft against yours, and as they moved with a tenderness that mirrored the way he held you, it was as if he was trying to convey everything he had ever wanted to say to you in that one, passionate moment.

The kiss deepened, and you could feel the intensity of his emotions pouring into it. It was a kiss that spoke of all the words left unsaid, of all the nights spent missing each other, and of all the dreams of a future together.

Feeling the tears streaming down your cheeks, Sae pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. And in that moment, he knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be – here.

To you, in his hometown. 

💭 thank you for the request saetorinrin! (i owe you a lot for your patience i guess..)

note. hi. if you’ve been here before, you might know that i hate this trope with a burning passion, i just can’t write it for the life of me. i started this in may (and only had the guts to finish it this month lmao), i was so tempted to delete everything and start from scratch (for the nth time) but i think i owe it to myself to retain most of what i wrote when i was stranded on an island xd this isn’t my best, that, i know for sure. but i hope you’ll still like it ! 

💌 if you reached this part, and you want to know about reader’s letter that sae’s was referencing, here it is. you may or may not read this, it won’t really matter. but if you want to, click until the end :>

💭 back to: milestone event

[themissinghand]

Solo Leveling: Tease

Requested by: @666veiniklaas

Summary: In which Jinwoo likes every part of you, and he hates to share what’s his. 

Or, you finally take revenge on Jinwoo for teasing you a little too much. 

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x M! Reader

Note: For some reason I lost your request in my inbox, but luckily I already started working on it in my drafts.

Anyways, not a bother at all! The cat drawing was so cute! Love how you showed my dark eye circles so accurately XD 

This inspired me to write a....sexier version of Jinwoo. Hope you enjoy it! 

Warnings: Some sexual tension and sensual touching, suggestive themes! Nothing beyond that, unless your imagination takes you there-

★・・・・・・★

Jinwoo is an asshole, and he knows because his boyfriend tells him too many times. 

“Hey (Y/N).” Jinwoo called out, before noticing you hunched over your laptop in his hoodie, that was clearly too big for you. He smirks before walking behind you and tapping you on the shoulder. 

“What? I’m in the middle of a game right now!” He leans down and lets his wet hair touch your skin. He feels you flinch before finally turning your attention to him.  

“Do you know where my boxers-” 

“What the f-it’s in the drawer!” Like a cat, Jinwoo watches his boyfriend malfunction (checking him out) with red cheeks, before screeching and dashing out of their shared bedroom. 

It’s adorable, seeing you throwing random items at him to cover himself up, or when you run away anytime you see him naked. 

But he knows you like what you see. Maybe, you’re just too shy or prideful to admit it. 

(Jinwoo knows it, after all, he remembers you giving ideas to his Shadow Soldiers when building sculptures of him in his Shadow Realm - he’ll never let you live that down)

You’re like a cat. 

A cat thief that likes to steal his hoodies, and wear comfy clothes. Jinwoo didn’t mind it, after all, everytime he hugged you, he felt like he was hugging a big marshmallow cat.  

Sometimes, Jinwoo would come by and scoop you up in princess carry, and like a cat, you would fight him and try to get out. But that never works, as Jinwoo was a S-Class hunter for God’s sake! 

“Beru! Help me!” You cried for Beru, who sheepishly looked back and forth between Jinwoo and you. But could only disappear in Jinwoo’s shadow when His Liege gave him a “I dare you” look. 

In the end, his kitty would give up and grumpily cuddle in his arms until Jinwoo decided to let him go. 

It’s fun teasing you and watching you run away from him. It’s also a great way to get your attention. 

For example, Jinwoo found a great way to wake you up. 

“Jinwoo…? What time is it?” Jinwoo watches his little kitty do a little stretch in his arms, clearly not awake yet. 

“It’s time to get up.” He pressed a kiss to your palms, before cheekily bringing your hand to his bare chest. 

“Wha-” In the next second, you broke out of his hold and slammed your back to the wall. 

“Like what you see?” Jinwoo leans on his arm, purposefully showing off his toned body, but by then you were already out of the room and screaming profanities at him. 

“I swear to God Jinwoo! I will get back at you for this!” 

Jinwoo laughed as he saw his marshmallow cat angrily stomp to the bathroom. 

“Oh yea? I like to see you try!” 

Jinwoo regrets challenging you. 

It was like any other day in the Shadow Realm, Jinwoo was training with his Shadow Soldiers until he heard a call from Beru.

“My Liege! His Highness is-” Without another moment of hesitation, Jinwoo teleported back to his house and worriedly rushed to the bedroom where Beru was at. 

“(Y/N)! Are you okay-” Jinwoo froze when he saw your figure. His oversized hoodie no longer to be seen. 

“Oh hey Jinwoo.”

Your quiet seductive voice sent a wave through him and Jinwoo even let Beru quickly slip away despite being part of the whole farce. But Jinwoo couldn’t be angry at you, as he was too smitten with your appearance. 

His shadows' excited clammer was ignored. 

A slim fitted black top with fishnet sleeves and matching black tights. Your collarbone, flat stomach, and even hip bone was exposed, making him unconsciously gulp. 

The fabric was almost transparent, as if teasing Jinwoo and letting his imagination to go wild. 

You looked so good right now, and Jinwoo feels himself slowly losing control-

“I’m going out.” 

“Where? Looking like that?” Jinwoo flinched when he felt that he sounded a little too aggressive, but he really can’t let anyone see you looking so good. 

You had the audacity to look confused. 

“Nightclub, Liu Zhigang invited me out.” A cheeky little smirk rose to your lips before playing with the collar on your neck. 

“How do I look?” 

In the next moment, you were swept off your feet and slammed onto the bed, but this time, you weren’t backing off. 

“(Y/N), is this what you mean by getting back at me?” 

“I don’t know what you mean-” Jinwoo dived for the side of your neck and felt you squirm. 

“‘Cause it working. Your plan.” Inhaling deeply, Jinwoo feels dizzy, did you even put on cologne?

Even though he knows that this was all part of your plan to get back at him for teasing you so often, the fact that you mentioned another man’s name makes him mad. 

What if you actually did it for someone else? 

Just imagining you with Liu Zhigang and other men-

“Hey Jinwoo, calm down-” 

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

Jinwoo pressed a couple of kisses to your neck, and then left a trail of marks down to your shoulders. He peaks up, seeing your face bright red, but looking directly at him. 

Even more surprising, Jinwoo felt your fingers in his hair, before cupping his face and kissing him.

“I know.” You licked your lips, and tugged on your top, revealing more skin. 

“So hurry up and take me, My Liege.” 

That was all you had to say to make him lose control, and devour.

Let’s just say that the shadows smartly decided to not interfere and watch the premise far, far away from the bedroom. 

Beru on the other hand was just happy that he wasn’t the one being peppered with kisses this time.

The next morning was a mess. Jinwoo went back to being an asshole, not because he wanted to tease you, but also because he didn’t mind being an asshole for you to dress up like that again.

Also, Jinwoo eventually figured out that it was not just Beru in this, but Bellion and Igris too. Apparently, it was their chance to show off their knowledge of their master’s preferences, and also give you some armour…though Jinwoo doubts you would wear it ever again. 

Not if he had anything to say to that though.

[babyleostuff]

BLANKET FORT | MOON JUNHUI

jun had a habit of checking the weather forecast every morning - he woke up, grabbed his phone, ignored all of the messages from his manager, and checked the weather app. it was a small, unconscious habit he developed after you began dating. jun didn’t even realise he did it until seungkwan asked him why he was checking the weather for korea, when they were abroad for their schedules.  

he was away the first time it happened. you called him, your voice shaky and panicked, as you explained that there has been a power outage because of a thunderstorm. jun could hear you quietly sob through the phone, and his heart broke, because there was nothing he could do to help. 

he had never felt so powerless before. 

after that, he decided to check the weather every morning in case of a storm, so you could prepare beforehand. well… almost every morning. 

jun cursed at himself, rushing out of the studio to his car, rain hitting the windshield as he speeded through town, while a low rumbling of thunder could be heard from the distance. 

you got home safely just before it started raining, though you knew the big, grey clouds hanging over the sky meant more than just rain. but there was no way you’d call jun. he was at work and you didn't want to disturb him, certainly not because you were afraid of a silly little thunderstorm. 

what you didn’t expect was to hear a knock a second later, revealing a drenched jun standing in your doorway. 

“i got here as fast as i could,” he said, breathing heavily. you figured he must've taken the stairs, something he always did when he was in a rush to see you. “what are you doing here, silly? shouldn’t you be at work?” you brushed his wet bangs away from his face, noticing how he shivered slightly. you pulled your boyfriend by his wet jacket before he could say anything, forcing him inside. 

“we finished the recording earlier today,” jun said, as you kept dragging him in the direction of your bathroom. “and as i was leaving i got an alert for a thunderstorm, so,” he took a deep breath, grabbing your hand tighter. “i decided to come to you.” 

just as you were about to scold him for being so reckless and not going home to change into something dry so he wouldn’t get sick, a loud boom echoed through your apartment. you immediately stopped in your tracks, jun’s body colliding with yours. he could feel how your body tensed up, the familiar panic written all over your face, as you looked into the direction of the window. 

“come on, i’ve got to get these wet clothes off me,” jun said, tracing his knuckle over your cheek. truth be told, he didn’t care if he was currently freezing his ass off, but he knew it would take your mind off from the storm going on outside. “y-yeah, let’s go,” you gulped. 

after jun changed into dry clothes and wasn't in danger of getting sick anymore, you left the bathroom with a little hesitation, where, fortunately, you didn't hear what was happening outside the window. “you know what,” he said, pulling you onto your bed, cradling your body to his chest, so your head rested right above his heart. “i saw this thing a while ago, and i was wondering if we could make it together,” he whispered, running his hand through your hair. 

“hm?” you murmured, looking up at him. “a blanket fort. we've never done it together before.”

maybe any other day you’d say that it was a bit silly for you to make a blanket fort, but as another rumble of the thunder passed you nodded your head quickly, latching onto jun even more. 

“hey,” he whispered. “’s okay, baby. i know you’re scared, but i’m here with you,” he said, pecking your forehead. “you’re safe here. you’re home. with me.” 

and that’s how you ended with chairs placed all around your living room, with all of your blankets and sheets you didn’t even know you had thrown over the chairs and your couch. “i’m going to get some more pillows, i’ll be right back,” jun said, before disappearing from your little blanket fort. 

you weren’t sure you needed anything more, your little bundle was already full of everything - blankets, pillows, food and snacks, fairy lights, your computer, even a couple of plushies jun got you when he was on tour - you name it. but you didn’t have the heart to stop him, your precious boyfriend looked over the moon when you were setting up the fort, like a little kid on christmas day. the rain was still heavily pattering against your window, but it didn’t bother you as much anymore. 

“okay,” a blonde head peeked into the fort. “i think we’re ready,” jun crawled inside, while trying not to destroy anything. you giggled as he struggled to sit down comfortably beside you, his back hunched because he was too tall. “i think your legs are too long, baby,” you laughed, grabbing onto his arm. 

you could feel jun’s smile as he pressed a kiss against your cheek, bringing you closer to him, so you could lay between his legs. as he tried to manoeuvre the both of you so you could lay comfortably against the stack of pillows, a particularly loud thunder stroke making you flinch. “don’t you think it’s a bit silly?” you asked in a whisper, nuzzling yourself further into jun’s arms.

“what?” 

“that i’m afraid of thunder. that’s just stup-,” 

“don’t even dare to finish that sentence,” you had to suppress a smile hearing his offended tone. you didn’t even have to look at him to know he was pouting angrily. “it’s not silly or stupid to be afraid.” 

“yeah, but it’s just thunder.” 

“and what about it? mingyu yells like a little girl any time he sees a bug, but that doesn’t make him less of a man. it’s okay to be scared,” he said, stroking his thumb over your tummy. “besides, i’m always here to protect you.” 

and so you spend the rest of your afternoon cuddled under tens of blankets, watching your favourite movies, until eventually you drifted off in the arms of your boyfriend not bothered by the thunderstorm happening outside anymore.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @f4iryjjosh @isabellah29 @hafsah-ali @mrswonwooo @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @chillseo

[piedinthepiper]

Liked ★

Yandere!Seokjin x fem!reader

Summary: You liked him, liked as in past tense. Liked as in you didn’t like him anymore. He didn’t believe it for a second, and he’ll do anything to make you like him again.

Warnings: Cursing, stalking, Jin is kinda narcissistic?, he’s also mean and delusional, possessiveness, jealousy, voyeurism, smut, drugging, implied kidnapping

Wc: 5.9k

A/n: based on this req! Love the idea, hope you like it!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

He met you through Jimin. You were one of Jimin’s best friends, it seemed like he had known you for a long time.

So who were he to ruin Jimin’s image of you, and tell him that you were just so annoying. You were pretty yes, but it was something about your laugh. Something about the way you talked. It just rubbed Jin the wrong way. There are some people you just don’t click with, he thought to himself. As he looked at you from across the table. Some people are just not meant to be friends, and that’s ok. The only problem is that Jimin brought you with him no matter what. It was always “can y/n come?”. He asked Jimin once why he brought you around all the time.

“She just broke up with her boyfriend. Cut her some slack man.”

He had answered. But it had been eight months. Which, in his opinion, was more than enough time to heal from a breakup. But you still showed up. Every. Single. Time.

“What are you going to order, Jin?”

You asked him, looking back at him from across the table. You were slightly blushing for some reason. Everyone’s eyes turned to him, waiting for his response. In all honesty, he had been too busy thinking about you, to even read the menu.

“I don’t know yet.”

He answered in a stern voice.

“I really like the lobster here, it’s really good.”

Jin almost rolled his eyes at your comment.

“Really? Well I guess I’ll order that!”

He said with an overly excited tone. Not being able to control the sarcasm in his voice. Thankfully the waiter came before you could answer him. Everyone started saying their order, before it was his turn.

“I’ll have the salmon.”

He said and looked briefly over at you. To see if you’d have a reaction. You looked puzzled down at the menu for a second.

“I’ll have the salmon as well.”

“Wait! Jin, wait for me!”

You yelled after him, trying to run in your high heels. He had finally been able to leave. And thankfully he was able to mostly converse with Namjoon during the dinner. He had almost made it into the taxi, but you caught him. He couldn’t just shut the door in your face. He’s not directly mean to you, at least he tries not to be directly mean to you. But god, you were so annoying! Why couldn’t you just take a hint and leave him alone?

“What?”

You were a little out of breath, and needed a moment to catch your breath before talking.

“I was just- I live on the way to your place. Maybe we could, you know, share a taxi?”

He mentally cursed himself for not shutting the door in your face. Cause now he had to actually be alone with you for at least 10 minutes.

“Oh come on, I’ll pay for myself don’t worry.”

You said when you saw him hesitating.

“Fine.”

He simply answered and jumped in the backseat. Not caring to find an excuse.

“So, did you have fun tonight?”

You asked him once the taxi started moving. He sighed. Now he had to small talk with you as well.

“Yeah it was alright.”

He shrugged. He could see in his peripheral view that you were looking at him.

“The salmon was so good! You were so right about that one.”

You tried again, once he didn’t take the conversation further.

“I didn’t say anything to you about it. You just copied me.”

You laughed, thinking that he was just joking.

“You’re so funny!”

You said in between laughs, and even went as far as leaning over him in a fit of laughter. He sat completely still. Not engaging with you what so ever. Once you realised, you sat back up.

“We should go out for dinner more together. I think it would-“

“Please y/n! Just shut the fuck up!”

He suddenly bursted out. He didn’t mean to. It just came out.

“You don’t have to talk all the time. You’re so annoying!”

He looked at you, your smile was no where to be seen. And for some reason he missed it already.

“I’m sorry.”

He quickly mumbled, hoping that your lips would turn at least a little bit upwards. But they didn’t. You looked away from him, turning your face completely towards the window. Your entire body was trying the get the furtherest away from him as possible, and it hurt him for some reason. He sighed. Your place was coming up, he would probably feel better once you left the car. Out of sight, out of mind.

“I talk so much because I like you, Jin.”

You said, barley above a whisper. He looked back at you. The taxi stopped, signalising for you to get out.

“I really liked you.”

You gave him a last devastating look before opening the door and stepping out. You shut the door in his face before he could answer. It didn’t matter, he was left speechless. And he did in fact not feel any better now that you left the car. He felt even worse.

“Liked” you said you “liked him”. As in past tense. As in you didn’t like him anymore. He was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep, and when he can’t sleep he starts thinking. It had been a week since the incident in the taxi. The incident where you said you “liked” him. Whatever that meant.

He would give you an apology next weekend. Pull you aside before you sit down at the table. Explain that he was just tired, that he didn’t mean it. In the moment he meant it, but he didn’t mean to say it out loud. He was amazed by the fact that he actually felt sorry for you. He didn’t like you, so why was he so obsessed with getting you to like him? Maybe he liked you more than he thought? Nah. He told himself before rolling over and closing his eyes. Trying to think of something or anything else.

Friday came around eventually, and he was ready to meet the boys (and you) at a restaurant. He walked in, a little earlier than usual. He had to pull you aside before you sat down, just so it didn’t get awkward.

“You’re early today, what’s up bro?”

Jimin lit up once he saw Jin approaching the table. He sat down beside Jimin, briefly looking at the empty seat next to him.

“Where’s y/n?”

He asked once he realised it was only the two of them. You always arrived with Jimin. He always picked you up, even if it was a longer route. Jin felt weird just thinking about it. What if Jimin had feelings for you? Why would he go to such lengths if he didn’t? The feeling in his chest couldn’t be described as anything but jealousy.

“She’s not feeling well.”

He simply commented.

“Why?”

He asked with a smug face, slightly poking him in the side with his elbow. Jin rolled his eyes, leaning away from him.

“She’s always with you, it’s not weird that I’m asking.”

He scolded his younger friend. Jimin stopped, but giggled slightly at his defensiveness.

“Whatever you say man.”

Jimin said, before changing the topic. Jin wondered if you truly was sick, or if you just didn’t want to face him. You didn’t strike him as a cowardly person. You would probably show up if you could. So the only explanation to why you wouldn’t show up to hear his apology, must be that you were sick of course.

But two weeks after that, you didn’t show. Two months passed and still no sign of you. Jin wanted to ask Jimin, but he didn’t want Jimin to think he actually cared. But he did care. He wanted to apologise for being a dick, that’s all. His conscience needed to be cleared for him to move on. At least that’s what he told himself. The first weekend after the two month mark, (not that he kept track of the time or anything), the boys went to watch a football game. It was weird that you didn’t show, considering that you loved football. You wouldn’t miss out. So Jin decided to ask again.

“Is y/n still sick? Did she fucking break her leg or something?”

He asked Jimin once they had found their places.

“I don’t know man. I asked her if she wanted to come, she said she was going with someone else.”

He said and shrugged. Someone else? Why was he hurt that you would rather go with someone else?

“Ok, I’ll go get a beer. Anyone want one?”

Namjoon was the only one who raised a hand, small excuses of work in the morning was heard from the others. He squeezed out of the row of seats. He needed to clear his head, he had to stop this obsession he had with you. After the game he would call you, and if you didn’t pick up he would go to your house. Enough was enough, he had to see you.

“Jin?”

Your voice made him turn around. There you were, two beers in hand and the familiar blue shirt of your favourite team. Your hair was in a ponytail, so he could clearly see your entire face. And you were smiling. Smiling at him like what happened two months and a week ago was ancient history.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

He mentally face palmed himself for asking something so obvious. You looked down at your shirt and back up at him.

“The same reason you are, I suppose.”

He laughed awkwardly, before you both went quiet.

“Look, y/n. I just wanted to ap-“

“Hey, babe. I’ll hold these for you.”

A man’s voice interrupted him. He looked at the man who approached you take your beers. You looked at him as well before looking back to Jin.

“I’m sorry, this is my boyfriend Hoseok.”

Jin was left speechless at your choose of words to describe the man. You had a boyfriend now?! The feeling of jealousy started to spread through his chest again.

“This is Jin, Jimin’s friend.”

You told this Hoseok, when he didn’t answer. Jimin’s friend? That was it? He was offended by the fact that you didn’t view him as more. You had a crush on him for gods sake!

“I’d shake your hand man, but you know.”

He raised the beers in his hand awkwardly. Jin still kept quiet. Not wanting to utter a simple word to the man you dared calling your boyfriend.

“I’ll catch up with you, just go back to the seats, ok?”

You told your boyfriend, and he happily complied walking away from the uncomfortable situation.

“Why are you acting so strange?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know. I just- I thought you had a crush on me. But now you have a boyfriend, so.”

You smiled at him.

“I liked you, yeah. But after you rejected me in that taxi, I moved on. It’s not that deep, some people just don’t click.”

His stomach turned into knots, he hated the way you sounded like him. He hated the way you spoke about him. That it wasn’t that deep? Well, it was really deep to him. Extremely deep actually.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I really am. I should’ve never said those things to you.”

He managed to apologise, regardless of the burning anger he felt inside. How dared you reject him? He rejected you first.

“Jin, it’s ok. Seriously. It’s all in the past.”

You patted his shoulder before taking a step away from him.

“Tell the boys I said hi.”

You said before walking away. This was not how this was going to end. He had spent two months and a week thinking about exactly how you would respond, and what would happen after. You were not supposed to be so nonchalant and run away to your new boyfriend. You were supposed to accept his apology and run into his arms. Maybe even give him a kiss and a blowjob for his effort to be so empathetic. He was going to make things right.

He couldn’t sleep again. How could he after you basically dumped him? So he started thinking. Why would you do such a thing? Why would you hurt him? He knows that he hurt you, but he apologised. So you should stop whatever prank you got going on and come back to the group. Come back to him. He really didn’t know why he felt this need for you. Before all this he literally couldn’t stand you. But now it’s like he yearned for you. And it was baffling to him that you didn’t feel the same.

Maybe you were just using that Hoseok guy to make him jealous. Yeah, that’s it. This was your payback. He laughed at the thought and sat up in his bed. Turning on the lamp on his nightstand. Might as well pay you a visit.

He payed the taxi driver before closing the door carefully. It was the middle of the night, not a soul to see in your neighbourhood. He looked up at your apartment building, he knew you lived on the seconds floor. The light in your living room was on. He quickly looked down at his phone. 02:38 am. You should’ve been asleep already.

He walked over to the other side of the road to get a better view of your living room. Trying to get a glimpse of you in your natural habitat. And to his surprise you were there. Completely naked. He felt a familiar feeling in his groin once he saw what was going on behind those walls. You were on the sofa on top of your new boyfriends dick. Your back was turned towards the window, giving Jin a perfect view of your ass bouncing up and down. Jin ripped his eyes away from you to check if anyone else was seeing this. But no lights were on, and no bystanders. What a freak you were, having sex right in front of a window where anyone could see.

Or maybe you were doing it for him? The curtains were slightly open, just enough open for him to see you. Maybe you didn’t shut them completely, for him? Maybe you hoped he would show up after the two of you met the same day? It was working for him. Mesmerised by the way your body moved in pleasure, he slid his hand into his pyjama bottoms. He couldn’t help himself. You looked so good, and you were so perfectly placed that he could see the dick going in and out of you. His only wish was hearing you. He wanted to hear you moan so bad. Suddenly you slowed down. Jin’s hand moved faster, trying to reach release before the show was over. Just one last bounce before you sank down beside him. Now facing the window. He continued, now seeing your heaving naked chest sprawled out on the sofa. He was close, very close. And once he saw you get up and walk towards the window completely naked, body glistening, tits slightly bouncing, he couldn’t help but feel a euphoric release.

Reality hit him immediately after. In the time it took for him to ride out his orgasm, you had made it to the window. Now staring directly at him. He quickly pulled his hand out of his trousers, turning around to face the wall immediately. The sticky wet spot that made the fabric of his pyjamas stick to his skin, was a shameful reminder. He didn’t know if you had seen him. He didn’t know if you were calling the police, or still looking at him. But he stood completely still, awaiting his destiny. After a few minutes he pulled his phone up from his pocket, calling for a taxi back to his place.

It wasn’t until he heard the taxi pull up he dared turning around. His eyes flickered up to the window. No sight of you, no sight of nothing. The curtains were shut completely this time.

It was Saturday, Jimin had invited the boys to his house for a few drinks and some food. Jin hadn’t gotten drunk in some time and quite frankly needed it to forget whatever madness happened the weekend before. So he gladly accept once Jimin proposed the idea in the group chat. Something he would regret.

“Can you get the door? I can’t let this burn man.”

Jimin asked and pointed to whatever he was making on the stove. Jin, being the first to show up that night was more than happy to welcome one of his mates, and walked over to the door.

“Jin! It’s so nice to see you again.”

You said and gave him a small hug as you stepped into Jimin’s apartment. He was left speechless. By you, but also by the man that followed you inside. You brought your boyfriend?

“Hey man!”

Hoseok said and stretched out his hand for him to shake. Jin just stood there looking at his hand. He couldn’t move. Too terrified that this was your way of revenge. You were going to expose him as the creep that jerked off outside your house to all his friends. And on top of that you brought your boyfriend to rub it even more in his face.

“You know what, I’m a hugger anyways.”

Hoseok laughed and pulled him in to a tight hug once he didn’t shake his hand. Once he pulled away from the hug, Jin smiled at him. He couldn’t risk getting on the bad side of Hoseok either. Maybe you told him?

“Sorry, Hoseok right?”

He asked and took his hand in his. Your boyfriend chuckled and nodded. What a ray of fucking sunshine of a boyfriend you got. Not completely different to himself, he thought.

“Oh please, just call me Hobi!”

He smiled before walking past Jin and following you inside. Jin continued to stand by the door for a second as he heard both you and your boyfriend greet Jimin in the kitchen. He had to talk to you. He had to pull you aside before you got the chance to reveal his big dirty secret. The boys would think he was disgusting, a creep, a weirdo. What the hell was he doing here? He had to run away. Run far far away and never come back.

“Are you ok?”

He got ripped out of his thoughts and realised the tall figure standing in front of him.

“Ah, Namjoon. You scared me.”

He tried to play off. As if he wasn’t standing in front of the open entrance door just staring out into the hallway.

“I’m ok yeah, but what about you? What have you been up to?”

He said and threw his arm around Namjoon’s shoulders, leading him into the apartment.

“Woah, ok. It’s only been a week since we last saw each other.”

An hour had passed. You still hadn’t said anything. Not even mentioned that night. He had taken a few shots out of agony and suspense. He couldn’t get drunk. No, not while you were a ticking bomb ready to ruin his image forever. He had to stay sober so he could defend himself whenever the situation arose. Or if he was lucky enough to get you alone so he could convince you, hell maybe even beg for you not to say anything. He would do anything for you. For you not to say anything, of course.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

You announced, slightly intoxicated. You were so cute, your face a little red and your words a little slow.

“I have to go to the bathroom too!”

Jin quickly said, getting up quickly. The room got quiet. He realised he had said that a little loud and with a little too much excitement.

“Ok.”

You shrugged, walking away from the table. Everyone started talking again, meaning he was in the clear. He stumbled after you.

“After you, princess.”

You said as you proudly held the bathroom door open for him. He would’ve smiled at your joke if this wasn’t a serious situation.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go first.”

You mumbled and started unbuttoning your trousers. He nodded. He didn’t even have to pee.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-“

“I’m not drunk enough to pee while you’re watching me.”

He panicked at your words and didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Oh- uh. Do you want me to leave?”

You laughed.

“No silly. Just turn around.”

He did as instructed.

“I’m sorry, ok? I should’ve never done that! Please, just don’t tell the others y/n. I won’t recover from it.”

He started pleading, still facing the door. You went quiet for a few seconds. He gulped, anxious of what you would answer.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

You said and flushed the toilet. He turned around knowing you were finished. You were struggling with the button of your jeans, but looking at him with a confused look.

“Are you playing with me? Please if you are, don’t, I can’t handle that right now.”

You started washing your hands.

“No, Jin. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Is this about that time in the taxi again? Cause I told you it’s ok.”

“No. I mean- uh. Yes?”

He didn’t know what to say. Did you really mean it? Had you not seen him that night? A wave of relief washed over him. If you were telling the truth he was the luckiest man alive.

“What?”

“It’s about last weekend.”

He tested, seeing if you would remember.

“And?”

You asked puzzled. He let out a breath of relief. You were completely clueless.

“I didn’t mean to be so awkward with your- ehhh, Hobi.”

He managed to get out, not wanting to call him your boyfriend out loud. Now that he wasn’t caught and labelled a total pervert, he still had a chance to win you back.

“My Hobi, huh? You’re cute Jin.”

You said as you unlocked the door.

“You’re forgiven by the way.”

You closed the door behind you, and he quickly locked it. He had never felt more relieved in his entire life. Maybe you weren’t looking at him, maybe you were just looking around to see if anyone saw? And maybe he was fortunate enough to be well enough hidden that night to not get caught. Well, he knew he would be more careful the next time. He shook his head, baffled by his own words. The next time? He thought as he flushed the toilet. He didn’t understand what he felt towards you, but he wanted there to be a next time. He wanted the next time to be him underneath you, not your stupid boyfriend. He unlocked the door and started walking down the hallway. He didn’t want to admit it to himself before, but maybe he actually liked you. Like, liked liked you. He sat back down at the table. Taking another shot now that he could actually get drunk.

“Ooo, where are you going?”

Jimin asked you. Jin hadn’t heard the first part of the conversation, but pretended he had been here the entire time.

“This very fancy spa hotel. He said it was an early birthday present.”

You said and looked lovingly at your boyfriend.

“Wow, you’re lucky! You must really love her, Hobi!”

“You’re leaving?”

Jin asked you, ignoring Jimin’s hilarious comment, and quite honestly he didn’t want to hear Hobi’s answer to that. You nodded.

“Yeah, next Friday.”

He took another shot, drowning the jealousy that was starting to bubble inside him.

“I just don’t know what to do with the cats. I’ve asked a bunch of people, but everyone’s busy.”

“I’ll watch them!”

Jin blurted out, almost too excited.

“Are you sure? I’ll pay you if you want to-“

“No, no need to pay me. Don’t have anything happening next weekend anyways.”

“Weren’t you going out of town to see your parents next weekend?”

Namjoon asked with confused brows. Jin mentally cursed him for almost ruining his plan.

“No, that’s the weekend after. I’m completely free next weekend, ready to watch some cats.”

You smiled at him, he had missed that smile so much. To ever think that he didn’t like your smile was insane. What was even more insane was the fact that he blindly said yes to watch your cats, just to be in your house. But he’ll happily feed those little fuckers if it meant that he had full access to your home.

“Again, thank you so much. You’re a life saver!”

You yelled out the window of your car as you and your boyfriend drove away. He waved goodbye as he watched the car slowly disappear in the horizon. Once you were gone he hurried into your apartment, ready to snoop around. He only did it to get to know you more of course. He wanted to know every single little thing about you that only your home could reveal. He sat down on the sofa on the exact spot where he saw you have sex. He felt the soft fabric between his fingers, thinking of that night. He slowly laid down face first, wanting to be close to the spot where you sat completely naked. He rubbed his cheek on it, slightly smelling hints of your perfume. He could stay like that forever. Just frolicking in your scent.

But one of your cats jumped up beside his face, ruining the moment. He got up, annoyed at the grey fluffy animal. He silently pushed the cat off, but when it once again jumped up beside him he decided to look around somewhere else.

He found the bathroom, opening up the cupboard next to the mirror. Some makeup, some skin care, tweezers, tampons. Nothing exciting. He opened the door to your shower, nothing but numerous soaps. He looked over at the bin for a second and wondered if he was willing to go that low. Once he saw your dirty laundry he decided against it. He opened the lid and started digging, a mixture of your perfume and your natural scent hit him. He had never been happier. He suddenly stopped and pulled out a singular thong. It was baby pink with lace. He imagined how good you would look in it. He stuffed it in his hoodie, deciding to venture off to your bedroom.

He immediately opened the nightstand, hoping for something good. And you delivered. Toys of all kinds in different flashy colours. He smiled as he picked up the hot pink dildo. He wondered if you ever thought of him while using it. The thought alone making his pants feel tighter. He walked back to the sofa, he knew what he wanted to do now.

Jin was watching tv in your house once he heard the door open. He knew you would be arriving that day, so he managed to be on his best behaviour and not jerk off in every room of your apartment that day. Small things to make you happy. He quickly got up to welcome you.

“You got home quite late, I was starting to worry.”

No he wasn’t, he knew exactly at what time you would be home. He found a copy of your reservation at the hotel and calculated the time it took for you to get here. But he wanted you to know that he cared.

“No need, I’m home.”

You gave him a forced smile. Something was wrong. A feeling of excitement rushed through him. You came home alone, did this mean that-? Did you really break up with Hobi? He held back a smile.

“Here let me help you.”

He said and reached for your suitcase. Your grip tightened.

“No it’s fine.”

You simply said and rolled it into your apartment. He headed you sigh. He wanted to wait a little longer to see if you would break. Hoping that you would tell him the good news and not let the suspense kill him.

“Can we talk?”

You asked and looked back at him, removing your coat. He nodded understandingly as he took your coat before you could protest and hung it up. You walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. Putting your head in your hands.

“Do you want something to drink? I can make you-“

“No, Jin. Please just sit down.”

You were visibly upset, so he followed up on your request. Sitting down opposite of you. You took a few seconds before you started talking.

“Do you care to explain why you did what you did while I was gone?”

You asked and looked up at him. He froze. This was not the good news he was expecting. This wasn’t happening. How could you know?

“What are you talking about?”

He said and tried to laugh it off. You shook your head.

“So you’re telling me you have no idea what I’m talking about?”

You asked strictly. He gulped.

“No, y/n. I’ve just been watching your cats. Did I do something wrong?”

You let out another sigh before you pulled up your phone. You touched the screen a few times before your turned it around, showing him exactly what you were talking about. He watched in horror as he saw himself in your bed with his hand around his dick. The other hand was holding your underwear under his nose.

“There are many more of these videos.”

You said as you retracted your phone.

“I don’t need to see them.”

He quickly answered as you put your phone back in your pocket.

“Fine, but I want to know why, Jin.”

His mind was racing. How the fuck was he supposed to dig himself out of this one? You had physical proof now. He couldn’t deny it anymore.

“I didn’t know I was being filmed.”

He muttered as a poor excuse.

“Me neither. I set those cameras up when I didn’t think I would find someone to watch the cats. Unfortunately for you I forgot to take them down.”

He went silent again, slipping his hands into his deep pockets. Feeling around, trying to come up with a solution.

“Please tell me you have a logical explanation for all this. Why did you masturbate every single day with my stuff while I was gone?”

You seemed more upset that you couldn’t make any sense out of it, compared to what he actually did. Maybe if he just confessed you would forgive him.

“I like you, y/n. No, I actually think I love you. I’m in love with you.”

He blurted out. You were taken aback at his sudden honesty.

“I don’t understand why, I used to hate you. I never liked you. But ever since the incident in the taxi I haven’t been able to take my mind off you.”

He reached for your hand over the table, but you quickly pulled away.

“I love you, y/n!”

“So why didn’t you tell me? Why did you do this instead? You realise how fucking crazy you sound right now, right?”

You snapped back at him. Coughing slightly afterwards at your sudden outburst.

“Let me make you a cup of tea, it’ll help with that cough.”

He said calmly. You shook your head.

“I don’t want tea, I want you to leave my house right now!”

“Please, can we just talk about this like adults? I don’t want to fight with you.”

You stopped, wanting to hear what he had to say.

“Let me put the kettle on, and I’ll tell you everything. Just please, I care about you.”

You touched your throat as you slowly nodded. He quickly got up and started the kettle.

“I did it because I didn’t want to ruin your relationship. I saw how happy you were with Hobi. I thought this was my only way to be close to you.”

He tried his best to get you to feel sorry for him. He knew you would be much better off with him than that excuse of a boyfriend you had. He just wanted to pull on your heartstrings. Even if it was completely a lie.

“I just- sorry. I’m sorry. But I’m crazy about you, y/n. I’ve never felt like this before. I didn’t know what to do.”

You looked down at the table as he prepared your tea.

“Do you want sugar and milk?”

He asked carefully.

“Just sugar.”

You answered after a few beats of silence. You were clearly fighting some sort of mental battle. But it was alright, he was going to make that decision for you.

“I really care about you. I’ve been nothing but a dick to you, I know. But I want to make it up to you.”

He placed the tea on the table before you. You stirred it a couple of times as you waited for the tea to get ready.

“It’s just really uncomfortable, Jin. Yes I used to have a crush on you but that doesn’t give you the right to do such things.”

You scolded him as you brought the cup to your mouth slightly blowing at the hot beverage.

“Again, I’m sorry.”

He said and bowed his head in fake defeat. This wasn’t his loss. Sooner than later you would be his.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you. I need time to think about all this. It’s all too much for me right now.”

You took a sip, feeling the sweet warm drink soothe your sore throat. You immediately took another big sip to get the feeling back.

“I get it. I’ll give you all the time you need when we get to your new home.”

He said bluntly. You crossed your eyebrows at his comment.

“My new home?”

He nodded.

“You’ll love it there. Just you and me. We can spend as much time as you’d want to heal all the shitty things I’ve done to you.”

You shook your head.

“What? What are you talking about?”

You felt your sight getting blurry, your body suddenly felt really heavy.

“What- what have you done to me?”

You slurred as you fell back in your chair. Tears forming in the corners of your eyes as you felt yourself loosing control of your body.

“It’s ok, baby.”

Jin got up from his chair and walked over to you. In your last efforts you slung yourself off the chair and onto the floor, trying to crawl away from him.

“I’m sorry, but I had to do this. I’m sure you’ll forgive me once you realise what an amazing life we’ll have together.”

He bowed down and grabbed you. Making you look at him. Finally you would be his and his only.

“Fuck you.”

You managed to say before the drugs made you close your eyes and fall limp in his arms. You looked beautiful, he thought. Like sleeping beauty just waiting for him to save you. It would probably take some time for you to forgive him, but like he said, he would give you all the time you needed. And eventually you would realise that you were made for each other. He would make sure of that.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[rafescherry]

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⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; after he returned to the capital, coriolanus snow met you. the one person who broke the rules for him. that fell in his greedy grasp.. but it was a beautiful illusion. now you’ve slowly found yourself going insane. drowning in his obsession. it went from the district songbird, to you.. the capital darling. expect this time, snow isn’t going to let his pretty rose escape, this time, his trophy was in his complete control.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; dark themes, physiological abuse, chocking, chasing

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𝐒𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐲. 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐬

you were trapped, and yet you were running.. as if you come free from this, from him. the pounding in your head seemed to follow the rhythm of your feet. rapid, frantic, afraid. because it was the way for only a moment, his eyes lingered.. they stilled. you searched desperately for that brilliant twinkle in his eyes - yet it was gone, like a shiver along your skin.. and it was fucking terrifying. maybe even more so by the way your eyes, even for a mere second, fluttered in that same darkness. that same hunger for power that lay within him. Began to ignite within you .. you were the monster he created. And that in its self made you utterly his.

you could hear his voice in your pretty head.. white marble blurring around you, racing through your vision like the sounds in your head. No, his voice in your head.. a drug you grasped onto like a pathetic addict

‘𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧.. 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞’

how? how had you let yourself fall into his charms.. into his perfectly crafted manipulation. but you knew how. your angel eyes saw him, that first encounter.. and it felt real. you were a fool. You saw the good in many devils - and Coryo, was the one you saw the terrifyingly deepest.. but it was merely a beautiful illusion. and you fell right into it. And now, you couldn’t get out! and in some twisted way, didn’t want to. that’s why you were running, because you were so desperate to go back. to be his even until you were broken. like the petals he picked from his beloved roses. in a sick way, you were one of them, his beautiful little prize.. and yet thorns of his making hid below.

everything was burning in your mind as you ran through those halls. his menacing voice like a sharp weapon on your back. your legs moved without hesitation, yet your heart lurched in your chest. running from him?! As if you could get away!! you didn’t know if it was his words in your head or behind you that spoke so truthfully. He existed within you. You were truly going insane.

you should have never of loved him. but you did. you loved him so sickly that it boiled like rage in your gut. and it always fucking would. perhaps that’s why this chase was so pathetic? your heart raced as the words emerged in your twisted thoughts. he didn’t care about you, he didn’t love you.. he loved owning you. holding your heart like a rose in his greedy hands. Hands that always needed more.

He was chasing you. that’s as you could think as you stumbled through those halls.. his dark eyes like daggers in your back. But you knew it wasn’t only your back, it was everywhere. Like his gaze was suffocating you, and suddenly you realized.. you didn’t truly know where he was. He was hunting you. like his delicate prey.. but he wasn’t behind you anymore. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

And you made the terrible, fool of mistake to advert your eyes behind you, letting them frantically drift to the space you swear he was.. the space you wished he was.

The moment you rounded the angelicly white walled corner, your body met something.. cruel. no, sinfully familiar. your wretched love. He. Had. Caught. You. And just like you knew they always would your eyes met his. And something in your chest broke, so violently you wondered if he heard it

and before you could writhe against his greedy grip, his hand was curling around your delicate throat, and slammed you against the marble wall. once, they had looked so pure to your beaming eyes.. yet now, they looked like suffocating hell. especially as you flared against him, his hold dragging the air from your lungs like everything else he had ever possessed from you.. taking it for his own amusement. twisting it and stealing it from you like everything you ever were, was his. it was his possession

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 .. 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤?

his beautiful face leaned into yours - his maddening breath fanning you ear almost like a threat.. and it was very much that.

“after everything I’ve done for you darling?” his chuckle was like wicked silk against your skin. and just like always, you fell into that consuming darkness. If only you knew, he had said those words once before. yet this time, he wouldn’t lose

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥..

[seresinhangmanjake]

Oh, Baby

Dad!Jake Seresin x female reader

Summary: You might not have been his girlfriend, but when you left town one night a month after sleeping together, it completely broke Jake's heart. Now, a year later, you've returned and you're not alone. You have a new little companion that just so happens to bear a startling resemblance to Jake. 

Warnings/notes: its mostly fluffy. cursing, i think. mention of pregnancy. that might be it. 

Words: 2900

Oh, Baby Masterlist / Masterlist

His Girls (Following Part)

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Staring is rude; that’s what his mama told him. That, and a handful of other little rules that didn’t fit the bill of ‘gentleman.' But he couldn’t recall a single one of them now. His mind was occupied and nothing else mattered. Maybe nothing else ever would. So he let himself stare.

You smiled and the air got trapped in his lungs for a moment before it decided to fight for freedom by way of harsh, sharp bursts. If his coughing drew the attention of others, he didn’t notice. It didn’t draw yours, and that was for the best. He needed another second to breathe; to watch your face light up under the influence of the infant in your arms. 

Two months old, that’s what Rooster had told him. 

You’d left town one night, leaving no note, no means of contact except through your parents who texted Rooster every once in a while to let him know you were Ok, but never to tell him where you were. Maybe they didn’t know either. Then, according to Rooster, you showed up at his door with a bag, a smile of apology, and a two-month-old baby cradled in a wrap around your chest. 

Jake didn’t know what to do with that. He didn’t know how to process what you’d brought with you, or why you went to Rooster instead of him. Maybe one more thing that didn’t matter at the end of the day. As it was, everything in front of him was too much to handle. 

“I don’t want to overstep,” Rooster said through the phone. His call had woken Jake, but the anxiety in Rooster’s tone cleared any grogginess faster than a cup of coffee. “Did you and Y/N ever…?”

Jake swallowed and sat up a little straighter in bed, running a hand down his face. Everyone had guessed there had been something going on between you and him. Everyone assumed that even if there wasn’t, if they were wrong, eventually the two of you would get there. You’d figure it out because it seemed inevitable. Jake had always hoped they were right. He’d pined for painfully long, and while it seemed like you felt something for him too, he wasn’t going to move until you did. And then you did. 

It was simple, really. He thought there would be something more complex to the two of you finding your way into bed together, but it was so easy. So natural. Simple and easy and natural enough for you to seek him out three more times before you disappeared from his life, breaking a part of him as you did. 

“Why do you ask?” Jake said. 

“Um—fuck.” It was a soft curse from his friend’s mouth, just barely detectable through the speaker. But it carried a heavy weight with it that Rooster’s voice alone did not. “Are you sitting down?”

“Yea.”

“Good.”

The seconds passing were nearly as painful as the day you left—that moment he realized you were no longer in his bed. He’d called everyone. No one had an answer for him. “Rooster, what the fuck is going on?”

He sighed, which was never good. Rooster wasn’t much of the sighing type. Sighing meant thinking. And he wasn’t much of the thinking type anymore, either. Hadn’t been since Mav had knocked that behavior out of him while he was in the air. That new mentality just so happened to carry into the rest of his life, and he lived in a world of impulsivity. Don’t think, just do. It was the exact same with his words. Rooster only ever spoke his mind, didn’t hold back, didn’t hesitate, and yet now he was.

“She’s back, Jake," he finally said. "Showed up last night.”

His heart stopped beating. He felt it seize in his chest. And then it began again, starting with incredible force and livening his entire body. 

“But, um…that’s not all,” Rooster continued. “She’s got a baby with her, and—” His breath was shaky, matching Jake’s hands. “Alright, I’m just going to say it—the kid looks exactly like you, Seresin. Spitting fucking image. Now, if you two never got together then I’ll chalk it up to a wild coincidence, but if you did…” He paused. “If you did, I think you need to get over here.”

Jake had never run so fast in his life, never driven so recklessly, never stormed through the front door of someone’s home the way he did Rooster’s, but how could he not? 

“Where is she?”

Rooster shot to his feet from his spot on the couch. “At the store. She took the kid with her. We should probably wait—”

“The one down the street?”

“Yea, but—what are you doing?”

He was already at the door, the knob squeezed viciously in his grip. “I have to see for myself,” Jake said. “I won’t ambush her. I’ll keep my distance, but I have to see.”

And he saw…everything. The woman he loved, casually walking up and down the aisles of the grocery store, looking at labels and deciding on brands and placing things in a cart, with his baby strapped to her chest. 

And that was his baby. He knew the moment he saw the eyes that were his, just smaller and on a face full of features that were also his, save for the curve of the lips that belonged entirely to you. Had his mother been by his side, she might’ve stumbled back from how similar this baby looked to her own. He would have too had his feet not been stuck to the floor. 

Every bit of him was holding back from reaching for you as his instincts demanded of him, but he had to move before you saw him. You could turn your head at any moment. So he had to go. 

—--

“When did you even…I mean, everyone always figured you would…but…when?”

Jake lifted his head from where it was resting over the back of the couch. “About a month before she left. A few times.”

Rooster nodded. “She’ll be back soon. Are you sure you want to do this now?”

“I–”

As if on cue, the front door opened and you stepped through with a bag of groceries in each hand, one of which fell when your eyes met Jake’s. Little jars rolled across the floor, making the only sound in the otherwise dead silence of the room. His lips parted, but nothing could slip out of them, nothing that would make reasonable sense, anyway. His mind was too much of a jumbled mess.

The baby broke the tension, its little wiggle causing you to glance down at the tiny head resting against your chest. You set the other bag down and took an immediate turn to the left through another door that Jake knew led to Rooster’s guest room. You returned a moment later, without the baby, your arms crossed in front of you as you walked toward him. 

He thought he would be mad; maybe betrayed; at the very least bitter and devastated, but all he wanted was to pull you to him and hold you and kiss you and thank whatever deity necessary for returning you to him. 

“You couldn’t have kept it to yourself for a little?”

He didn’t know what you meant until he realized you were looking directly at Rooster. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Rooster replied. He nudged his head Jake’s way. “He was a fucking mess when you left, and it’s so obvious that the kid is—” He paused when your eyes fell to the wooden flooring. “I’m sorry. I’ll give you two some space.”

Jake waited until his friend was gone before he dared to take a step your way, but he stopped short at the hand you held up. 

“Y/N…”

“I don’t want to argue with you,” you said. “I’m not going to get into why I did what I did other than to say that I thought it was best for you, me, and her.” Your arms fully uncrossed and one hand began to pick at the other’s fingernail. “At the time, anyway.”

“She’s mine.” It wasn’t a question. He knew it. He knew it in his soul that the little girl in the next room belonged to him as much as she did you. But still, he needed to hear you say it; needed to watch the shape of your lips form the words. 

You nodded. “She’s yours.”

“And were you going to tell me?”

“I came back to tell you,” you said without a lick of hesitation in your voice; something that made him feel a bit lighter. “I wasn��t sure how I was going to do it yet, but I didn’t want her to wake up one day and start asking me fair questions that I only had unfair answers to. I couldn’t imagine telling her that her father had no idea she existed. So,” you took a deep breath, “I figured I’d see if you might want her, too.”

If. He could’ve laughed under different circumstances. If he wanted his daughter? There was nothing to mull over or consider. Of course, he wanted his daughter. Her and you, if you’d have him. But he couldn’t press that now. 

“What’s her name?”

“My family calls her Evy, but it’s Eve.”

“After my grandmother?”

“She was always nice to me when she would come to town, and I know you love her.” Your shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, but he knew there was nothing nonchalant about it. It was a deliberate choice, a careful choice. You could’ve named her anything under the sun. You could’ve named her after your own family, but you didn’t. “I wanted our daughter to have something of you other than just your DNA.”

The weight was back. A heaviness in the air from the beauty of what you’d just confessed mixed with the undeniable question of What now? He wasn’t going to push you. You were in complete control, always had been. Control over him, over what happened between you, over the future he had once hoped you may share—the future he thought was lost, but maybe could now be found. 

“Do you want to see her?”

His eyes widened, a confusing emotion filling his heart. He wasn’t sure you would offer, and giving him that chance swelled the love he felt for you. But more than that, adding to the confusing feeling was the hopeful note in your tone. Did you imagine he might deny you? Did you think he’d turn his child away?

“Yes,” he said with absolute surety, and by the grin you gave in return, he knew you felt his sincerity. 

You turned, leading him into the room he’d spent a drunk night or two in. A room in which he’d woken up insanely hungover and begging for the sun to die just to give him some relief. The irony. He silently snickered. You moved aside, facing him as he took in the sight before him. 

Your baby—his baby—laid on her back in the small travel crib, her eyes closed and body wrapped up snuggly in one of those sleep wraps he saw his sister use on her son. Her delicate face was so peaceful. Her long lashes rested on plump, rosy cheeks. Her lips were parted the slightest, the sweetest breaths making the softest of sounds. Her dusting of blond hair reflected the slim ray of sunlight sneaking through the drawn curtains turning the strands into pure gold.

Unshed tears stung the corners of his eyes. 

“You can hold her if you want.”

“She’s—she’s asleep. I can’t—”

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” you said. “Honestly, the best baby, Jake.”

Of course, she is, he thought. If she was anything like you, she’d be perfect. She was already perfect. 

Reaching into the crib, you carefully grabbed the baby and held her out to Jake. He’d held a baby before, plenty of times, but something about holding his own…he couldn’t describe it fully, just that it made his nerves fire off. His fingers began to twitch, but when he looked at you, he saw the familiar glassiness coating your irises and you nodded in encouragement. 

That was all he needed: the mother of his baby asking him to hold their daughter. So he did, extending his arms and gratefully accepting his little gift. 

She was so small. His hands and arms and chest dwarfed her compared to how she looked against your body. Up close, she was porcelain in form, fragile and light, and he would surrender his every breathing moment to protect what you and he had made. 

A soft sob echoed in his ear and Jake’s head shot up to see those tears had fallen, crafting rivers down your cheeks as your hand covered your mouth. 

“I’m sorry.” The apology was muffled through your fingers. You shook your head and finally dropped your hand. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t think—I didn’t think I would ever see this.”

With the hand not cradling his child, Jake cupped your cheek, smoothing your tears back into your skin with his thumb. You leaned into his touch and he suppressed a gasp. The first time in a year that he’d felt you, and it was like coming home. He’d missed everything about you, every ounce of your being and presence. He missed your scent filling the air: the vanilla perfume, the fruity shampoo, the minty chapstick that he’d pick up right when he was about to kiss you. All of it. Everything. And now you were here, and he wouldn’t be able to let go.

“Why did you leave me?” he whispered. 

“We had only slept together a few times,” you sniffled. “Doctor said I got pregnant that first time. Good on us for using a condom, right?”

He chuckled half-heartedly. Neither of you had one on you that night, and foolishly, neither of you cared. Pent-up desperation took over, and being inside of you, feeling you, became his sole need. Nothing short of you shoving him away could have stopped him. 

“Anyway, this wasn’t in your plans,” you said. “And I didn’t want to force it on you, but I also didn’t want to give her up. It scared me, so…”

“I would’ve helped you. I loved you. I’d been in love with you. I would’ve—”

“You loved me?”

Oh. He hadn’t planned on saying it. Certainly not now. Before you left, he’d hoped you already knew somehow. Then you were gone and he was sure the opportunity to tell you would never be within reach again. But, intentionally or not, you just presented him with a moment for the words to fall right out of his mouth, so they did. 

“Well…yea,” he said. “You could’ve told me you wanted a baby and I would’ve given you one.”

Your eyes shifted from his and you stared into the blank space next to his head, like your brain had short-circuited and your whole world was flashing before your eyes. You took a wobbly step back and dropped to sit on the edge of the mattress. Jake gave another long look at his daughter before kissing her forehead and placing her back in the crib. 

Kneeling in front of you, he said, “I still love you.” When you didn’t speak, he grasped your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “I love you, and I already love our daughter. And I want you to stay. I need you to stay with me.”

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Only you had that effect on him and he couldn’t say that he didn’t once hate it. It drove him insane for ages. He would simply think about you and the beating would start. That thumping would keep him awake at night, distract him at work, drown out the voices of his coworkers, but he accepted it now. It was an indicator of what he felt for you and that was too real and honest and beautiful to be bothered by. 

Finally, your fingers squeezed his back. A sign, small as it was, that you were understanding. 

“Look at me,” he whispered, and you did. He smiled as he peeled his fingers away from yours to frame your face between his hands. His thumbs ran along your cheekbones, then he leaned in a little closer. “Come here.” Another whisper, a bit broken on the final syllable. 

You didn’t protest when he pulled your face to his. You didn’t push him back when hot breaths caressed each other's mouths. Your fingers loosely fisted the collar of his shirt and you let his lips brush over yours in a gentle kiss.

And that was it. You were it. You had always been it for him. He knew it then, and he knew it now. But he didn’t want to overwhelm you. 

He pulled back a few inches to grant you some space, but your mouth chased after his, your hands sliding into his hair and holding him so you could force your lips together again. Harder, hotter, more desperate. You’d missed him, too. It was undeniable now. 

“Promise me, honey,” He said when you separated to breathe. "I can't lose you. Not again."

“I promise, Jake.” Your eyelids fell closed and you rested your forehead against his. “We’re not leaving you.”

------

tags: @thespeeder @nobody7102 @fangirlingoverfangirls @blue-aconite @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @dempy @chaoticassidy @alana4610 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @dracosluvbot @smoothdogsgirl @smit41 @wkndwlff @rileyloves5 @gigisimsonmars @hangmanbrainrot @withakindheartx @teacupsandtopgun @himbos-on-ice @xoxabs88xox​ @happypopcornprincess​ @violyn20​ @jordanturpen​ @buckymcu12​ @jerseybagel @nagygreta​ @rintheemolion​ @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ @avengersgirllorianna​ @oliviah-25​ @talkfastromance4​ @ysl-bby​ @chibijusstuff​ @kmsryles343​ @sometimesicryintheshower​ @cookielovesbook-akie​ @yanna-banana​ @taylahk109​ @buxkybarnez​ @elijahmikaelsonbitch​ @ravenhood2792​ @potato-girl99981​ @eccentricnos​ @kembry107​ @pono-pura-vida​ @topguncultleader​ @v0id-chaos​ @scrappybear89​ @stiles-banshees​ @audri_janis @caidi-paris @jake-seresins-girl @sass-masterkittenmama​

[s7-evermore]

My Heart Stays With You | Leona Kingscholar x Mistress! Yuu/Reader

NOTE: Hey, so I can’t find the FUCKING fic I was talking about in this post and despite all my desperate searching I STILL can’t find it so I’m WRITING MY OWN VERSION OF IT until the author of that fic MESSAGES ME AND GOES “EYO DUDE WTF THAT IDEA WAS MINE” so I can search their blog and finally read the fucking story cuz istg I can’t focus on my schoolwork with that fic weighing on my mind like a curse that’s been placed on my family for 40 generations.

EDIT: someone in the comments lovingly told me who the author of the original one was and it was @/kiwibirdmother but all their posts disappeared so 🤡 fuck. LUCKILY tho I used the wayback internet thing and I managed to read them again :D if you guys want a link to it I’ll share thru dm cuz I’m too lazy to post something about it rn ejdkskxkskx

SYNOPSIS: Leona had been forced into an arranged marriage with a noblewoman, but he had already been in a relationship with Yuu. They loved each other too much, and both of them weren’t willing to let each other go. So in their own selfish ways, they stayed together despite the ring shining on his finger.

The two of them never thought it would get to this.

Leona had hoped that he would at least be able to make her his officially. All he needed to do was graduate and introduce her to his family, as reluctant as he was to let her into the royal life for the fear that she would have to carry the weight of it, he was far too selfish to let her go.

But Yuu didn’t mind at all. Just like him, she was far too selfish to let him go.

. . .

. . . .

. . .

When the news came to her that Leona had no choice but to push through with the arranged marriage, he rushed to her room in Ramshackle Dorm to hold her in his arms.

“Stay with me,” He begged that night, holding her in his arms with all the strength he could muster. “Please stay with me.”

It felt out of character for him to say those words with such strong emotion, but in the years they’ve been together, as she approached her fourth year in NRC, Leona slowly learned to lower his walls around her.

Only around her. Just her.

“Stay with me. I won’t do anything with her. I promise.”

“But…”

Hearing her strained voice and her choked sobs as she cried on his shoulder broke his heart. His heart… that he had given to her all those years ago when she accepted him with all of her being…

How unfair could the world get?

“I won’t. You’re the only one in my heart,” he stated firmly, a promise that he would hold himself to for the rest of his life.

“That stupid marriage is only for formalities. A political convenience. That woman and I don’t even have to do anything, and I don’t intend on giving myself to her. Not my love, not my mind, not my body.”

He looked into her eyes, furrowing his brows with intensity. When Yuu looked at them, she could feel the fierce heat of his love for her and his unyielding devotion.

She understood his place. He really had no say in the marriage, it had already been set in stone. Leona knew this well, and yet he couldn’t help but feel guilty… she had been so kind to him, so understanding…

“Yuu…” his voice was molten gold, and it seeped through the cracks of her heart.

“I love you. Only you. Please stay with me.”

“I will,” she said without hesitation.

He kissed her the moment she said those words, and a night of passion between them followed.

That wouldn’t be their last.

The night before his wedding, Leona drove to a villa some distance away from the palace.

It was distant from other residences and a little more solitary. Leona knew it would be perfect for Yuu, so he bought it immediately before anyone else could so she could live there with Grim after their graduation.

He knocked on the door, and it opened within a few seconds.

He felt his heart beating rapidly when he saw her face. For a moment, Leona felt at peace.

Yuu smiled, looking just as relieved, “You’re here…”

He moved to embrace her.

Ever since the arranged marriage, it was the first thing he would do whenever he visited her. An act of reassurance that he would forever be hers.

“I came just as I said I would,” He said.

“It’s tomorrow,” she quietly muttered.

“Will you go?”

“I promised I would.”

“It would hurt you…”

“It would hurt you just as much…” she said, her voice breaking, “I…I promised you that I would…always be there to comfort you…”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable any more than I already have,” he sighed. His woman was far too kind to him. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she tried to be a little petty.

“I think… I think it would make me more uncomfortable not seeing you, knowing that you would be with her…”

Leona knew that his brother was aware of his distaste for the marriage, but the will of their father, even as he lay sickly on his bed, had to be followed.

“Leona…”

He knew what that tone in her voice meant.

He looked down at her slightly, immediately noticing her half-lidded eyes and her sudden shy but sensual smile.

“Will you stay with me a little longer…?”

She didn’t even have to ask.

He pulled her to her bedroom. And there, they lost themselves into each other’s arms, wrapped up in the heat of their love.

. . .

. . . .

. . .

“Did you meet up with your friends?”

The question came to him as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking. She had her head against his chest, his arm around her as he slowly traced shapes on her skin.

“Jack said that you asked him and Ruggie to escort me…” she said, recalling her meeting with her friends from NRC the past week.

Leona had taken it upon himself to invite some notable people from NRC, especially those he knew she would be close with. Most of them also knew of the relationship they kept going through with, as dangerous as it was.

Vil Schönheit had actually been the one to visit her first. He was invited as Leona’s acquaintance and former school “friend”, according to Leona himself. Vil was one of the few people who knew about their continuing relationship despite Leona’s arranged marriage, and out of respect for Yuu (who Vil was clearly fond of) agreed to keep it a secret.

Kalim and Jamil were invited as well, under the pretext of Kalim being the first son of House Asim and Jamil as his servant. When they came to her home, they reminisced on old times and agreed to keep in touch.

As she told him about their visits, she remembered another thing.

“I didn’t expect you to invite Malleus to the wedding…” she said.

“He’s your friend, isn’t he?”

“Yes but…”

Although she continued writing to malleus, as he was her cherished friend, she knew that the two of them hardly got along.

“A lotta random royals, nobles and celebrities are invited out of formality, so I thought that I might as well invite someone you’re familiar with. Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus came to mind at first.”

He looked down at her as he stroked her hair, “I’m sure you’ll be fine with their company. If you’re around people like them then no one should be able to bother you. I made sure to tell them all to visit you before the wedding.”

Malleus didn’t come alone, of course. Lilia, Silver, and Sebek came there as the Briar Valley prince’s attendants.

Those four weren’t daft by any means. She knew that they had probably already figured out that they were keeping their relationship a secret from the public.

“Are you alright with this?” Sebek had asked her, his voice strangely reluctant and…soft.

“We both aren’t,” she admitted to him, “But this is… the only way we could live right now.”

Malleus sighed, lamenting how unfortunate your circumstances are.

“If you need a place to belong, let us know,” He told her. “Briar Valley will welcome you with open arms.”

“Thank you…” she smiled kindly at her friends, “But I belong with Leona.”

“Leona, congratulations on your wedding.”

Leona watched as Vil approached him with Yuu around his arm.

Vil turned to the bride with a practiced smile, “and to you as well, my lady.”

“Congratulations, both of you,” Yuu said with a smile that made Leona uncomfortable. He hated her fake smiles.

He hated this. He hated all of this.

“You truly are fortunate, Lady Aisha,” her words pierced his heart like a bullet. His hands were itching to hold her in his arms. “To be wed to Leona… well, it might not be easy but…”

Yuu met his eyes, something profound shining within them, mixed with hopelessness and pain.

“I’m sure…he’ll be a very wonderful lover.”

The bride noticed the look Leona was giving the human girl while pondering the meaning of her words. With a strained smile, clearly masking her irritation, Aisha intertwined her arms around Leona’s and smiled at her.

“Oh I am well aware of that,” she says with a sickeningly sweet smile, “he is always so good to me.”

Yuu didn’t mean to take her words too far, but despite the bitterness in Aisha’s words, she smiled like a flower in bloom, masking her pain like it was nothing.

“I wish you both happiness.”

. . . .

. . . . .

. . . .

“Kifaji.”

The royal family’s long-time aid turned around at the sharp call of Leona’s new bride. Her features were marred with irritation, unbefitting of the occasion.

“Yes, my lady?” He acknowledged her calmly, ready to take every complain she has.

“Who is that woman?”

Kifaji looked at where she was pointing only to see Leona chatting with Yuu.

The aid’s expression softened at the sight of them. Leona’s eyes were unguarded as he spoke to the young woman, seemingly taking in every word she was saying. Yuu, on the other hand, despite the occasion simply seemed happy to be in the presence of the second prince.

It was the same scene he had seen quite a few years ago, when Leona brought her along with some other schoolmates for Tamashina-Mina. She was a darling little thing— she was beautiful. She got along well with their friends and Leona cared about her more than he liked to admit. But it didn’t escape Kifaji’s eyes when he saw Leona buy her a gift. A necklace the same color as his eyes, just as she requested.

“You should have chosen one with your eye color instead.” He heard Leona say to her.

“No,” Yuu shakes her head, “I like the color of your eyes better.”

She was sweet and by no means a push-over. She knew how to keep Leona in place without being pushy, and it was clear to anyone that Leona favored her greatly.

Kifaji had…hoped that he got to see Leona happy with her.

If it hadn’t been for the arranged marriage that the two princes’ father wanted… then maybe… maybe then the second prince would finally smile for the rest of his days…

“That is Miss Yuu, a long-time friend of his Highness,” he told Aisha calmly. “Prince Leona is quite fond of her, as is Prince Cheka, please do get along with her.”

“They look too close to be friends,” she quipped.

Kifaji could only do what he could for the Prince he had taken care of…

“I would not worry about that,” he said, expression unchanging, “I am certain that they are only friends.”

The lady huffed before fixing her wedding garments and going back to the party, Kifaji could finally breathe.

It was 12 AM at midnight, just two hours after the wedding and the reception ended when she heard something park itself on her driveway.

Before she could get the chance to look out the window, someone immediately knocks on the door.

In a rush, she opens the door only to see the lion that had been plaguing her thoughts, feeding the shadows whispering in her mind.

Large arms wrapped themselves around her in a warm embrace.

“I drove here as soon as everyone was asleep.”

She returned his embrace, feeling the beat of his heart against hers.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

“I can’t stand it. She was so annoying…” he buried his nose against her hair. “All she did was complain when all I did was nap on the bed.”

Lady Aisha must have gotten angry that Leona wouldn't touch her on their wedding night... She thought to herself. The thought of Leona sharing a bed with another woman made her heartache. She wanted to erase the image in her mind..

But she couldn’t do much now, can she? He was a married man now, but it wasn’t to her… no, it was to someone else.

However…

“Aren’t you gonna welcome me home?”

He will always return to her. Never touched and never kissed by anyone else but her.

She chuckles, looking up at him with pained eyes.

“It’s your wedding night, you know…? You could at least…”

“I told you, I ain’t touchin’ her.”

“You…you don’t have to… but it might make your family mad if you suddenly—“

He places a hand under her chin and forces her to look at him before stroking her cheek.

“I don’t care,” he says with finality. “I don’t care about that stupid wedding. I don’t care about her. I don’t care about any of them.”

His forehead touches hers, a tear escapes her eye.

“I care about us.”

And he kisses her with more love than he could ever give.

Another night passes, and Leona is once more entangled in Yuu’s arms.

[multifandomsw]

Feeling you

Summary: After finding out about Poe’s new love, you were beginning to avoid him. As your best friend, Poe didn’t take it well.

Poe Dameron x Reader

She/her

You stopped your fast steps when your eyes caught something outside.

The rain was pouring down in streams, the heavy rain clouds covering even the shine of the moon, it was pitch black outside.

There was, however, something that still shone, that stood out.

A flower stood out, standing in the middle of a meadow. It was not uncommon for flowers to grow on Ajan Kloos, as it was a very humid planet, but you’d never seen one quite like this.

Even though the darkness was engulfing everything around it, the flower shone in a beautiful purple color, illuminating the meadow around it.

It was a beautiful sight, really.

There was a sudden urge to go outside, to pick it up and give it to your best friend as a present.

Nonetheless, your train of thoughts was suddenly interrupted when you heard the distant thunder.

Your heartbeat fastened at once as you remembered why you were even in the halls in the middle of the night.

You quickly backed away, a shiver running down your spine as you continued your fast steps. The hallways were pitch black, too. You wondered if the storm outside had something to do with it.

It didn’t bother you, though, because you knew the way to your best friend’s room even blindly.

You knew the way to Poe’s room blindly.

When you arrived, you didn’t even hesitate a second to knock.

You wouldn’t have to knock, he had told you his code long ago, but you still did.

It just became a habit. You didn’t want to disturb him when he had more important things to do, like going through missions plans, hanging out with other friends.

“Nothing is more important than you”

Out of all the words the Galactic Basic had, you hadn’t found any to answer this.

The door opened with a small creak, one you hadn’t noticed until now, and you expected to be met with the sight of ruffled hair, worn out pajamas and the most breathtaking little smile of the galaxy.

What you didn’t expect, though, was to be met with someone else entirely.

Instead of Poe, you were met with the sight of a woman, or rather, the silhouette of a woman.

And as if the galaxy wasn’t on your side that day, the raining abruptly stopped and the clouds vanished slowly.

Suddenly, moon light from the window behind you shone directly on her face.

And oh, how your heart stopped.

She was beyond gorgeous. Her long blonde hair was sitting perfectly, falling as waves from her shoulders. What stood out the most were her beautiful blue big eyes, staring down at you, as well as her full rosy lips.

You had never seen her before, but maker, she was breathtaking.

Your eyes moved to the ground, but they caught a glimpse of what she was wearing.

Almost nothing, except for a large shirt covering her bare body.

Your mind hadn’t yet comprehended the situation completely, as you backed away slowly. “Wrong room, I’m sorry, I-“, your voice broke at the end, but you didn’t dare to look up once more.

“It’s okay.”, she said sweetly. Maker, even her voice sounded beautiful. You imagined she offered you a smile, but you were already walking away from the room.

When you heard Poe’s door click behind you, only then did you think of what had just happened.

Poe was with someone else.

You really didn’t want to compare yourself to her, you tried not to, but it was just so hard.

She was, undoubtedly, the most beautiful woman you had ever seen.

You couldn’t deny it, even if you wanted to, but she was perfect and everything you expected Poe to like as his partner.

You stood in the middle of the hallway, completely frozen, as the realization hit you like a rock.

Poe would never like you how you so adoringly liked him.

You slowly raised your hands, your shaking hands, to your cheeks, only hoping one thing, to not feel any wetness.

But of course, you did. Tears were streaming down your face. When had that happened? Had she seen them? Would she tell Poe?

You felt ridiculous for crying. Of course he would never like you back. It had been obvious to everyone, including you, this whole time.

He was the resistance’s best pilot after all, the most handsome pilot on base, the nicest person you had ever got to know.

You, a simple mechanic without any friends apart from him, Rey and Finn, could never even think of him liking you in that way.

Nevertheless, there had always been that hope nagging at the back of your mind. It was deeply buried, but you held onto it, in hopes that he may see you someday, may feel your love someday.

You wanted to scream, to cry out, to hit yourself because oh, you had been so oblivious, so ridiculous.

Your lip began trembling and you just tried to clear your vision, tried to wipe the tears away from your face.

But they wouldn’t stop, you couldn’t to anything against them.

You gulped hard, letting out a frustrated sigh. How would you find your way back to your room when your vision was blurred-

Someone faintly said your name. It was only a whisper, coming from somewhere in front of you.

You shook your head, you were imagining things, there was no one-

“Hey.”, someone suddenly grabbed your hands, preventing them from rubbing furiously at your eyes.

The touch was warm, the touch was familiar. You wished you could see the person-

“I’m here. Calm down.”, the reassuring voice told you. Calm down? Why would you need to calm down?

It was only now that you noticed your heavy breathing, like you didn’t have any oxygen left.

“Slow breaths, okay?”, the person instructed you, the male voice soothing you.

He raised his hands to slowly wipe away your tears, his thumbs grazing over your cheeks ever so slightly.

“It’s me.”, he whispered, and when your vision finally cleared, you were met with the sight of Finn.

You let out a breath of relief, and without thinking, you fell into his embrace, hugging him tightly.

He cradled your head softly, rocking on his feet so that he could calm you down.

“What happened?”, he whispered after a short break of silence.

“Nothing.”, your muffled voice answered, your face deeply buried into his shirt.

He softly said your name, not in a scolding tone, but a demanding one. “What happened? Was it the storm?”

You nodded against his shirt, not entirely telling him the truth, but a part of it.

You had always been afraid of storms, and when they would occur, you would walk to Poe’s room for comfort.

“Come on, I’ll bring you to his room.”, Finn let go of you slowly, gently ushering you into the direction you had just walked away from.

“No.”, you gently whispered, stopping in your tracks. “Please.”

And now, Finn was more than concerned. Poe and you were inseparable, always bringing each other comfort.

Why wouldn’t you want to go to him?

Finn put his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look up at him through glazed eyes.

“What happened?”

You gulped, hard. You couldn’t hide any secrets from Finn, you were never able to.

He knew of your feelings for Poe, of your unrequited love, of everything.

“When I knocked at his room, there was a girl opening the door”, you admitted, hanging your head low.

It was enough said for Finn to understand what you meant.

“What?”, Finn breathed out, sounding like he couldn’t believe it.

And no, he could truly not believe it. He knew that your feelings for Poe had never been unrequited, Poe had liked you from the moment he first saw you.

Finn wasn’t in the place to tell Poe that you felt the same, but he tried to encourage him every day to just tell you, tell you before it would be too late.

Why would Poe want someone else then? To distract himself?

Finn let go of you at once, and without rationally thinking, he made his way to Poe’s room.

“No!”, you pulled at his sleeve, making him stop. “Please don’t.”

Finn shook his head. “I don’t understand him.”

You offered Finn a sad smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. “It’s Poe. I knew he’d never like me back, it’s okay.”

Finn scoffed. “It’s your Poe.”

You just shook your head. “There’s no my Poe, Finn.”

Oh, how wrong you were.

“Come on, you’ll sleep in my room today.”, he gently grabbed your arm, guiding you to his room, that was luckily, quite far away from Poe’s.

“What were you even doing here?”, you questioned him as you made your way through the hallways.

“A feeling.”

You kept your head down the whole breakfast, hoping that Poe wouldn’t find you, that you wouldn’t have to deal with talking to him.

Both Finn and Rey were sitting at the same table, Finn next to you and Rey on the other side.

You poked in your food, not even thinking of eating it. You weren’t hungry.

“You should eat something.”, Rey’s voice interrupted your poking and you looked up at her face, filled with concern.

“I’m simply not hungry. I will eat later.”, your promised her reassuringly, but she didn’t quite believe you.

Both Finn and her shared another concern look.

Before any of them could say anything, though, Poe approached the table with a smile.

You quickly adverted your eyes again, moving closer to Finn.

“Good morning.”, he smiled, his eyes only trained on you.

Why didn’t you look up?

He stood there for a second, waiting for an answer, but he didn’t receive one.

“Hey man.”, he looked at Finn now. “You’re occupying my seat.”

The seat next to you, where he always sat.

Finn tried to smile back at him. “We thought you wouldn’t come, you’re already late.”, Finn shrugged his shoulder and Poe just accepted his fate, taking the seat next to Rey.

“Hey.”, he nudged your feet under the table, trying to gain your attention, trying to see your eyes.

You but you lip and slowly looked up, up into his beautiful brown eyes. Oh, how you always got lost into them.

You tried to offer him a small smile, as best as you could. “Hm?”

“Where were you last night?”, he questioned. “Because of the storm I mean, I went to your room, but I couldn’t find you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows for a second. Had the blonde girl told him anything about yesterday? Why would he go to your room? Had she left after you knocked?

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself off the thoughts.

“I stayed at Finn’s.”, you answered him honestly because Poe could read you like a book and always knew when you were lying.

His heart broke a bit in his chest at that. Why would you go to Finn’s instead of his room?

“Oh.”, was the only thing he could get out, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

Did you just hear sadness in his voice? No, there was no way that he would care.

“Yeah.”, you replied, continuing to poke in your food.

Before he could say anything else, though, you stood up. “I’m heading out.”, you told them. “I have a few repairs to do.”

Poe’s eyes moved from you to the full plate sitting on the table. He stood up immediately. “Hey, you need to eat-“

You turned around, waiting for him to continue, but someone was stopping him and talking to him.

When you noticed the blonde hair, your heart stopped in your chest.

The girl turned around shortly, looking at you and shooting you a small smile.

Why was she so nice?

You tried to smile back, but immediately backed away and all but sprinted out of the cantina.

The following days, he couldn’t find you in the cantina anymore.

A knock at your door was what was pulling you out of your thoughts.

You were about to open the door, taking a bit longer than usual, when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hello?”, Poe asked and you stopped in your tracks. “Are you there?”, he questioned, his voice filled with a bit of sadness.

You heard him sigh on the other side of the door. “I brought you food.”, he continued. “I noticed you don’t eat with us anymore. Finn and Rey told me you were very busy and that was the reason why. I asked Leia, too, and she told me that you had a lot of repairs to do.”

You smiled a bit at that.

“I know that you sometimes forget to eat, so I brought you some food, just in case you haven’t eaten today.”

You heard him leaning against the door, so you took a few step forward to hear him a bit clearer.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, you’re probably not in your room right now, but if you are, I miss you. I haven’t seen you in like two weeks. So if you ever have a few spare minutes for your best friend-“, you noticed his voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

Was he crying?

“If you ever have a few spare minutes for your best friend.”, he repeated with a shaky voice. “Just come to my room. You know where to find me. I just- I miss our late night talks.”

You leaned against the door now, too, desperately wanting to open it, but you couldn’t deal with the heartbreak when he’d tell you about his love life.

“Uhm- the food’s in front of the door. I left a note so you know it’s from me. Yeah, that’s it. I’m just gonna go.”

You noticed he didn’t go.

You head him slip down the door, heard his heavy breathing against the door.

Poe’s eyes darted across the hanger, trying to find you.

You didn’t work on his ship anymore, like you always had.

He almost missed you, you were taking very quick steps.

“Hey!”, he called, jogging up to you and trying to catch up with you.

You didn’t turn around, had you not heard him?

“Hey!”, he tried again, grabbing your wrist.

Now you had to turn around.

You breathed in deeply, forcing a smile on your face when you turned around.

“Poe.”, you breathed out, desperately trying to avoid his eyes.

Poe noticed immediately, noticed how the smile on your face wasn’t real. It didn’t reach your eyes.

“Hi.”, he breathed out, relieved to see you again, he hadn’t seen your face in a long time.

“Uhm-“, he let go of your arm. “Are you finished with all the repairs for today?”, he questioned, hoping that his plan would work.

“Yeah, I was just about to head out.”, you answered him.

This was his chance.

“Great.”, he stated awkwardly. When had things become so weird between you? “Would you like to go on a walk with me?”

You gulped, of course you wanted, you missed him so much, but you were avoiding him. You tried to suppress your feelings for him and it wasn’t working when Poe was in your presence.

“I would love to.”, you admitted and watched as Poe’s features lit up. “But I already promised Finn to help him with something.”, you watched as Poe’s face fell.

“But uh-,” you tried to reassure him. “Next time. I promise.”

Poe hung his head low. “Yeah, next time.”, he mumbled.

Poe stared at the wall in front of him, painted blue with a few flowers.

He wondered for a second if you’d like the flowers painted on the wall.

If you would, he would try to find them without hesitation. Even if it meant flying through the whole galaxy.

He’d do anything for you.

“Poe.”, a voice called out and he snapped his head in the direction the voice had come from.

Finn appeared in front of him, a worried expression plastered onto his face.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”, he questioned, not having listened for the last ten minutes.

Finn sighed. “Buddy.”, he began, his voice suddenly very stern. “You can’t keep on being like this.”

Poe hadn’t eaten in a while.

The bags under his eyes were probably permanent by now.

His hair was constantly ruffled, the clothes he had on the same ones like the week before.

He wasn’t passionate anymore, flying wasn’t making him happy anymore.

Whenever someone tried to talk to him, he was annoyed, snapping at anyone.

Poe scoffed. “You know exactly why I’m being like this.”, he stated.

Finn already knew the answer, had known it for some time, but he needed to hear it. From Poe.

“Do you love her?”

Poe’s eyes snapped up towards Finn’s, and for a second he didn’t say anything, just stared into his eyes.

“You know the answer to that.”

“Say it, Poe.”

Poe let out a deep breath. “That ring around my neck.”, he began. “I’ve always wanted it to belong to her. I want it to belong to her someday.”

And that was enough said.

Everyone was celebrating.

There was another win against the First Order, another step further for the resistance to win.

There was not much hope left, but that win, it brought back the hope.

And of course, Poe had something to do with it.

To say you were proud was an understatement, you wanted to hug him, to congratulate him, but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t.

However, your heart swelled with pride at the thought of him saving the resistance once again.

As you made your way to get a drink, you bumped into someone on the way.

Your eyes widened and they moved to the person’s face, and of course the galaxy wasn’t on your side that day.

The big blue eyes of Amy, Finn had told you her name, looked up at you. “Oh, I’m sorry.”, you apologized, ready to move away as far as possible before you’d be comparing yourself to her.

“It’s okay.”, she offered you a smile, but quickly caught your arm. “I’m Amy. I’ve seen you around sometimes, but never quite caught your name.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m not quite famous here.”, you admitted and quietly told her your name.

“Oh, I’ve heard your name.”, she grinned. “You’re one of the best mechanics the resistance has.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, she was really nice and you could totally understand why Poe would like her.

You had seen them talk to each other on multiple occasions.

“Don’t flatter me.”

“Commander Dameron told me, you know? He admires you.”

You looked up at her, looking for even a hint of jealousy in her eyes, but the only thing you saw was an understanding look.

“Well, I think I should be the one admiring him.”

Amy laughed at that. “He wouldn’t admit it, but my husband admired him very much.”

You almost choke on your own spit.

Husband?

Her husband?

“Your husband?”

“Oh yeah, he’s a pilot for red squadron. He has always admired Commander Dameron and his flying skills. It’s cute.”

Your mind still couldn’t proceed the information you had just got.

As if Amy had seen your confused expression, she explained further. “You remember when you accidentally knocked on our door? That was his room, actually. I just stay over very often.”, she explained further.

There was no way.

There was no way that you had knocked on the wrong door.

Suddenly, guilt washed over you.

You had avoided Poe and he hadn’t even done anything wrong.

You hadn’t asked him, hadn’t talked to him, hadn’t questioned him, you had just decided to avoid him.

You felt even more ridiculous now, the base of a friendship is trust and you hadn’t even trusted him enough to ask him, to tell him what had happened.

You threw away a friendship because of pure jealousy, because of wanting to have him for your own, even though you had always known you never would.

In the future, if Poe ever found someone to give that ring to, you would have to accept that, too.

You couldn’t just throw away a friendship because of that.

“It was nice meeting you, Amy.”, you quickly excused yourself, making your way through the crowd and trying to find somewhere to sit, somewhere to just think.

You quickly made your way into the forest, leaving against the first tree you could see and sinking down.

You wanted to hit yourself because of your own stupidity.

Oh, what a bad friend you were.

A small tear escaped your eyes at the realization.

You hadn’t been there for him these past few weeks.

Your thoughts stopped abruptly when you heard a sniffling sound coming from, almost directly next to you.

You looked to the side and saw a pair of boots. Someone was sitting on the other side of the tree.

“Are you okay?”, you whispered, knowing that the person must have heard you.

There was a short break of silence in which the sniffling had stopped, before someone softly, and quietly, whispered your name.

Poe.

You wanted to stand up, to look at him, to hug him, but something was holding you down. It was as if you couldn’t move.

And Poe couldn’t either.

Instead of moving, though, you stretched out your hand, looking to the side to see Poe doing the same thing.

Without any hesitation, you wrapped your fingers around his small one, feeling his cold hands slowly warming up.

“What are you doing here?”

You gulped. It was time to say the truth.

You leaned your head against the tree and your eyes trained to the stars above you. “I’m an idiot.”, you simply stated and it was the truth.

He repeated your name softly. “You are not anidiot.”

“No.”, you stopped him from continuing. “I am, Poe. I am the biggest idiot.”

“What-“

“I’m sorry.”, you finally let out, holding his small finger a bit tighter. “For everything. Avoiding you, ignoring you, I’m sorry for all of it.”

Poe remained silence, not finding any words. You had been ignoring you, had been avoiding him. He just needed to know why. “There’s one thing I need to know.”, Poe leaned his head to the side, wanting to hear you better. “What have I done wrong?”

Your whole body tensed at that.

“Nothing.”

Poe furrowed his eyebrows. “Then why-“

You wanted to explain everything, to let him know of the misunderstanding, but you couldn’t get any words out.

The force was an energy field, flowing through every living thing.

Rey had told you about your force sensitivity, however, you had never embraced it, never tried to.

You always thought the force wouldn’t help you, always thought that being force sensitive only brought bad things with it.

Now, nonetheless, you wanted to try something.

You closed your eyes slowly, and concentrated on the force, letting every feeling you had towards Poe, every thought, out in the air.

You couldn’t explain what happened to him, but you wanted him to feel it, to understand you.

Poe’s breathing stopped when he felt the overwhelming emotions around him, when he felt every single one of your thoughts at once.

Realization hit him and it was as if his broken heart was being mend by you.

“I feel you.”, he whispered. “I feel your love.”

The invisible strength was no longer holding him down, and he stood up immediately, taking two steps and looking directly at you- whose eyes were still closed.

He held his hand down and as if you could feel it, you reached out to him, letting him pull you up.

“Look at me.”

You didn’t want to look at him, you didn’t want to be met by the eyes of someone that didn’t love you.

Poe took a step closer. “Please.”

When he saw that you still didn’t open your eyes, he reached out for your hand once again, laying it directly on his-

On his necklace.

“I can’t make you feel my love like you did.”, he began. “But I can, and I will tell you a thousand times if you allow me the chance to love you.”

Your eyes snapped open at the confession, and upon being met with his warm brown eyes, your heart melted.

His eyes moved from yours down to your lips, as if asking for permission.

And when you nodded, he didn’t hesitate to take a step forward, didn’t hesitate to gently and slowly brush his lips against yours.

And suddenly, you could feel his emotions in the air, too. Suddenly, you could feel his love, too.

[ronwestbreeze]

TO YOU , WORLDS AWAY | PART ONE : CHAPTER ONE

pairing: jake sully x human!fem!reader

summary: in which the story starts and finds you in a place of malevolence. a reluctant return to hell's gate leads you to meeting jake sully

warnings: none!

word count: 3.6k

author's note: finally posting this! there's no schedule for how i'm going to release these but i hope to be at least consistent! just no demanding me to post the next chapter or to finish, that doesn't help much with writing. anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

italics is speaking in na'vi

AO3 | masterlist | next

Powder covered your hands by the time the radio next to you came to life. Last time that radio came on, Dr. Grace Augustine had, very heatedly, called on you to fix one of the link units. Some genius had thought it was a good idea to kick at it in anger, knocking a few wires loose. Didn’t do any real damage but that guy never slipped into another link unit again. He’d have Grace to thank for that. And his temper.

That had been months ago. You hadn’t been back in Hell’s Gate since then.

Surprisingly enough, it was Trudy. “Hey, Doc. Mind comin’ to look at one of the computers in the lab? I think one of those science geeks broke a monitor or somethin’.”

Without looking up from your work, you reply, “Then buy a new one. My job is to fix shit, not consult about some stupid monitor.”

There were muffled voices further away as the radio cut in and out a few times. Seconds later, Trudy finally spoke again, “Uh, my bad, it’s not a monitor. It’s some….uh…power box, I guess. Glitched out on the geeks, now they don’t have power in a few of the computers.”

It took a moment for you to respond. Both because of the weak radio signal in the middle of the forest and because you had to take a few moments to program your newly robotic arm helper to finish off your new invention, which you had been working on for nearly half a year now. Project Pandora is what you called it.

“Trudy,” you finally say, picking up the radio and pushing the chair away from the desk and toward the small window on the other side of the little space, “why are you, a pilot no less, asking me about computers in a lab?”

There is a hesitant silence on the other end. But after listening closely, you realized there was another muffled conversation going on further away, one that the radio couldn’t really pick up.

Eventually, Trudy’s voice reached the radio again. “I told you she’d see right through it.” It sounded as if she was talking to someone and that someone was muttering something further away from the radio. Trudy sighed before continuing, “Look, Doc. I’m gonna be blunt with you. Parker’s too much of a pussy to do it himself so he got me in here to reach you.”

You clicked your tongue, “Why am I not surprised.”

“He’s scared of you.”

“More than Grace?”

There were louder muffles, almost audible if not for the static from the radio. “Parker wants you back at the gate…and to tell you that he’s not scared of you.”

After a while, the radio finally cut off and you sat there. Outside the little window was the forest of Pandora, your view for the past few months. And really, you would like to keep it that way from now on. Being away from Hell’s Gate has brought you a sense of peace and a sense of forgetting. Although, the forgetting was harder said than done.

No matter what you did, there was nothing that could make you forget what these humans were doing to Pandora, what they planned to do, what they already had done. It was a bunch of bullshit really. The RDA complained that they weren’t making any progress with the Na’vi, the people of  Pandora, while at the same time attacking them and threatening to take over the land by wiping out the indigenous.

You had come here to learn about this species and quite possibly one day live among them, not take over. Which is why you separate yourself from Hell’s Gate after the incident. But it seemed no matter what you did to keep away from them, somehow you were always brought back in.

It had to be him behind it. That man was stubborn enough to keep you in his control just as you were stubborn enough to find any way to stay far away from that place.

“Doc?” Trudy’s voice came in through the radio. With a frown, you looked back at your robotic arm and the invention, deep in thought. “You there?”

With a sigh, you replied, “There’s no other engineers up there? Mechanics?”

“Most of them are workin’ on those AMPs. Parker wants you. The best of the best, you know?”

You frown, “Doesn’t sound as great as it did years ago.”

“Don’t think too much about it. You’ll be in and out. Then you’ll get to go back to your little lab in the woods and stay secluded like the hermit that you are.” Trudy teased in an attempt to lighten your mood. And you did try to smile at the joke, just a little bit, but the thought about going back, about stepping your foot back into that place, somehow he’d win.

“I could say no.” You try, even though you were getting up and sliding your boots on. “Tell him to find some other unfortunate engineer to do his shit.”

“You could.” Trudy agreed. “That would definitely make Parker pop a vein. But if we sent in someone else that isn’t you, it sure as hell wouldn’t get done quickly or right. So there’s that.”

“Hmm, I’d say let them rot.” You grumble as you grab your mask and place it on your face.

Trudy laughed on the other end as you stepped out of the lab. The air was fresh on your skin but poisonous to your lungs. Still, it did feel somewhat nice stepping out of your stuffy lab for once. Being surrounded by beautiful forest. The beauty of Pandora still never failed to amaze you despite your grim attitude as of lately. There was something so special about this planet, something you never felt on your home planet, Earth.

You just wished the circumstances were different.

“You’re a genius, Doc.” Parker praised as you closed the power box.

“Is that all?” You asked dryly, rolling your sleeve back down as you began leaving the dark room.

The administrator followed after you as you sauntered through the halls, ready to go back to the forest and your private lab. “Yeah, well, I believe that should be all. I knew you could do it the best too, my guys are useless when it comes to this stuff.”

“Stop kissing ass, Selfridge.” Both you and Parker turned to find Grace waltzing down the hall toward the two of you. A smirk was on her lips when her eyes landed on you. “Tinkers! Never thought I’d see you come out of your little hole. How long has it been? Three? Four months?”

Despite where you were, you gave a small smile, “Hi Grace.”

Parker excused himself immediately much to your relief, going back to his usual spot, which was overseeing all the link units of the Avatar Program. You raised your brows at how quickly he left but you figured it was mostly because he didn’t want to hear Grace go on and on about the beauties of Pandora. Parker was the type of guy who only cared about what profited him the most. And the last thing he wanted to hear was how innocent everything was. Would make him lose track of the most important goal.

And for that, you despised that man. Parker must’ve sensed your dislike for him and found it intimidating, especially when it came to calling on you for favors such as fixing an electric power box.

Behind her were three other men. One of which you knew by Dr. Patel, the other two you guessed were new.

Grace crossed her arms, not bothering to introduce the two other males behind her as she spoke in a lowered voice, “Coming back this time around?”

You shook your head, “No. Just here for a small fixer upper. I should be heading back soon actually.”

“You sure?” Grace then gestured to the two behind her, giving you an exasperated look, “Could really use someone familiar out there. To the land and the people.” You didn’t respond right away which the scientist noticed. “Forget about Quaritch, you know you want to get back out there. Your avatar’s waiting—”

“Who's the newbies?” You addressed Dr. Patel, earning a glare from Grace at your efforts of quickly changing the conversation. It was something you definitely weren’t going to discuss here and especially in front of the new people who were watching the two of you a little too closely for your liking.

Dr. Patel smiled at you in greeting before gesturing to the two other men. “This is Norm Spellman, our new biologist for the team. Fellas, this is Dr. Y/N L/N, our best engineer at RDA.”

The tall lanky one stepped forward and offered his hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor, I’ve actually heard a lot about your work here. Well, your mother’s work, I should say.” Grace rolled her eyes as you tried not to wince at the mention of your mother. But of course, Norm didn’t notice and kept going, “Also, very sorry for your loss. Your mother was a brilliant mind, the best of our kind—”

“Alright, Spellman.” Grace gave him a pointed look before nodding over to the man in the wheelchair, “You remember Tom Sully? Well, this is his worse half, Jake Sully. He’s unfortunately replacing Tom in the program.”

“Thank you for that, Gracie.” Jake retorted just as quickly.

“Fuck off.” Grace glared and nudged your side. “Ignore him, I do.”

Yes, you did hear about this. Tom’s unfortunate death led them to scramble for a quick replacement. You never met Tom yourself so you never had much of an attachment to him. Neither did Grace but you could tell that wasn’t the only thing annoying her. If you had to guess, Jake was probably drastically different from his late brother and Grace didn’t have much patience for that.

Still, you offered him a kind smile. “Ma’am.” He nodded to you, offering his own hand which you shook.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sully.” You glanced from a pensive Grace to Jake. “I imagine you know a lot about the program similar to your brother.”

Jake tilted his head, “I watched a Netflix special once.”

Grace scowled, Dr. Patel coughed to cover a smile, and Norm shifted on his feet awkwardly, watching the two of them.

You found yourself grinning for the first time in a while., “I don’t know, Augustine. I kind of like him. “

Grace rolled her eyes, “Whatever. We’re heading over to the link units. It’s about time the two of you get acquainted with your avatar form.” She then addressed you but in Na’vi surprisingly. “And when will you bring out yours? Don’t try to change the subject this time, Tinkers.”

Feeling Jake’s curious and confused gaze on the two of you, you answer in a quick hiss, “Drop it.” Then you turned to Jake and smiled, “S’ nice to meet you, Mr. Sully—”

“Jake.” He nodded toward you with a little smile of his own. “You can call me Jake.”

Your smile grew, “Alright, Jake. Welcome to Pandora.” She pointed at Grace with her thumb, “Don’t let her ruin the experience, yeah? She can be a little twitchy sometimes.”

“Go back to your hole, Tinkers!” Grace called over her shoulder as she continued down  the hall with Norm and Dr. Patel following after her.

“Right up your ass, Augustine!” You shot back with a smirk before sending Jake a wink.

Jake, despite his previous stoic expression, found himself grinning at you. “Nice to meet you, L/N.”

“Y/N.” You corrected, moving around him to head the opposite direction. “Or Doc, either way, don’t be so formal. Especially with me.”

He nodded, “I’ll make sure to remember that.”

With that, you watched as he rolled away in the direction the others went. Once the company was gone, your shoulders sagged a bit, slightly exhausted from the small interaction and because of the busy environment of Hell’s Gate as you made your way out of it.

Just as you were about to reach outside and grab your mask, one of the soldiers, Wainfleet, blocked your exit while sitting in one of those AMPs.

“Doc! Leaving so soon?” He grinned down at you.

“Move, dipshit.” You say bluntly, gripping the mask in your hands while glaring up at him.

He shrugged, grinning cockily down at her. “Can’t do that, Doc. Colonel heard you crawled out of your little hole you’ve been hiding in the past few months. He wants to see you.”

“Tell him to eat shit, ya know, like in all the messages I replied to.”

When you tried going around him, he stepped in your way, aggravating you more.

“Look, cupcake. We could either do this the easy way or the hard way. Easy way, you go and see Colonel yourself or hard way I drag your tiny ass over there.”

At this point, the more you gripped at the mask, the more it was possible it could break in your grasp. So you hooked your mask back onto your belt, seething eyes never leaving Wainfleet. It was possible to shut down the AMPs in your current height. You’d done it before but it was with someone who lacked experience controlling those things.

Wainfleet on the other hand was often training himself in them, which would lead to a more difficult and quite possible deadly attempt at escape.

Which meant, unfortunately, you didn’t have much of a choice.

With your dignity burying itself into the ground, you followed Wainfleet further into the Armor Bay where multiple more AMPs were lined up along with the ships and planes the pilots controlled.

When you arrived at the small gym room where Quaritch was currently benching, Wainfleet left you alone but you didn’t move to further enter the room. All you did was scowl and stand in the doorway with crossed arms, waiting for him to acknowledge you.

And you knew he knew you were there.

“I was wondering when we’d get the chance to talk again.” Quaritch finally said, putting down the weights as he sat up. He grabbed a towel next to him and began wiping the sweat off his sweat. “Are you finally done with your tantrum?”

He wanted you to snap, rise to the provoking. But you remained silent, your jaw clenching just a bit as your eyes narrowed in on him. Quaritch was watching you closely as well, probably waiting for you to react.

“Ah, the silent treatment. Guess I should’ve expected that too.” He threw the towel to the side before looking up at you with a smirk. “Thought you made a vow never to set foot in here again. Made a whole dramatic scene about it too—”

“What do you want?” You ask simply.

Quaritch now scowled at your indifference or rather rebellion, you couldn’t really tell. “I want you to get your act together. I don’t have time for you throwing fits like a child because you don’t get your way. This is a mission, Doc, and your job is to—”

“My job was to help the people.” You hissed, stepping only a few feet into the room. “To build a connection with them. That was your orders. That’s what you asked me to do. And what does the RDA do? Fuck it all up by shooting a bunch of Na’vi, leaving them for dead!”

Quaritch rolled his eyes, “You’re still on that?”

You seethed, “You don’t even understand what you did! You would think thinking smartly would crossed your thick fucking skull—”

“That’s enough from you!” He barked in his Colonel voice. “Disrespect me like that again and I will boot you right off of this planet as fast as I got you on it, you hear me?”

“Do it then.” You challenged, hands shaking from anger. “You’ve had plenty of times to get rid of me. If you find me so much of a problem, why am I still here?”

You half expected him to keep shouting at you, yell at you into submission like he does his subordinates. But instead, Quaritch chuckled as he stood up. “Moments like this, you remind me of your father. Good man, acted just like you. Which was what made him the best soldier. Which made him a good captain.”

He was changing the conversation, he was trying to have power over you without being forthright about it. He had done this before whenever you tried arguing, it was his way of shutting you down without getting into a fight.

“You’re a smart cookie, Doc. And I know you’re smart enough to realize your value to this team. To the program.” He flashed his white teeth at you. “You and I both know I can’t get rid of you that easily. And I won’t. I made a vow after all.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, wondering just where this conversation was going. Every time he brought up that damned vow it usually was followed by something for her to do. A favor. Something to keep her distracted.

“So let’s put the whole past to rest—”

“I rather not—” Quaritch cut you off just as fast as you did.

“And focus on the current future. Have you met Corporal Sully?”

You frown, suddenly remembering Jake’s charming smile. “What, he’s your new little puppet now?”

Quaritch wasn’t phased by the comment as he sat back down on the bench, “He’s got promise that kid. I tasked him to get to know the Na’vi people and learn their ways, to gain information for me.” You scoffed in disbelief as he continued. “Since you’re so well versed in their culture, I want you to give him some pointers. A tutor if you will.”

“Like hell I will—”

“And yes, you can decline.” Quaritch began lifting the weights again, “And then the RDA can take your little secluded lab away, destroying everything you’ve worked on. I’m sure that would be smart.”

This was where you had to control yourself. Your reaction. Your anger. You remembered a certain project that you were just nearly done with. Something you had been working on dedicatedly ever since the incident. If Quaritch or any of the RDA were to discover it, you were sure you would be exiled back to Earth.

Or quite possibly killed.

“What do you say, kid?” Quaritch noticed your silence.

With a scowl, you gritted out, “Fine.”

From the bench, the Colonel grinned, “Good girl! Now we can really get to work!” He placed the weight back down and stood, “Let’s go tell Sully the good news.”

When arriving in the link room, you lingered behind while Quaritch approached one of the link beds that was just opening. Jake happened to be in that one as he sat up, immediately spotting the Colonel walking toward him.

“Sir.” Jake greeted, briefly glancing your way for a moment longer before turning back to the Colonel.

Quaritch nodded in greeting and gestured to you, “I assume you’ve already met, Dr. L/N, the best of the best in the Avatar Program.”

“What do you want, Quaritch?” Grace cut in as she pushed open her own link bed. She noticed the angered look on your face and raised her brows, silently questioning you.

“She’s going to be showing the ins and outs of the Na’vi, she’ll give you some pointers to better prepare yourself for the program.” Quaritch winked as he clapped his hand on your shoulder. “You do best following her lead, might keep you alive, Corporal.”

Jake nodded, eyes alight, “Will do, sir.”

Quaritch’s grip on your shoulder tightened, “Take care of our boy, will you, Doc.”

Carefully, you reply, “He’s in good hands…sir.”

Grace narrowed her eyes at you while Jake frowned, finally noticing your change in behavior compared to your earlier brighter demeanor.

Satisfied, Quaritch gave you another rough pat on your back before leaving you with Grace, Jake, and as soon as he came out of his link bed, Norm.

“Tinkers.” Grace brought your attention back to her. She gave you a meaningful look before speaking in Na’vi, “What happened?”

Instead of responding to her, you nodded toward the three with an impassive expression, “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

You needed some time away, to calm down, to reevaluate some things. If only you had left as quickly as you had planned to, none of this would have occurred. You wouldn’t be feeling so helpless right now as you stalked through the halls, practically glaring at everything around you. At this rate, you wished that bastard dropped you back on Earth. At least you would be far away from this shit.

“Hey, Doc!”

A part of you wanted to just keep going and ignore Jake Sully when he called for you. But you stopped anyway despite yourself and turned to find him rolling toward you.  He stopped a few feet away from you, frowning at your guarded behavior. “I know I’m not well informed about all of this the way you’d like but I’m sure I can catch on fast—”

“Let’s get one thing very clear, Sully. I know you’re working with Quaritch. I know you’re planning on lying to them, gaining information for him to use or whatever the hell he’s planning. I don’t want any part of it.” You shoved your hands into your pants pockets glaring at the surprised man. “You’ve aligned yourself with a dangerous man, Sully. I hope you understand what you’re doing here.”

Just as you turned to walk away, Jake called out to you again, “So is that your advice then? As my tutor?”

 “No. Not all of it.” You glanced over your shoulder at him and shrugged, “Try not to die, Jake.”

taglist: @luvvfromme @sully-stick-together @dazedshoon

[azrielhours]

Dreams and Deliverance

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Synopsis: Azriel has a nightmare that the reader sees through the bond. She goes to wake him up and comfort him. They talk through the night. The bond snaps for him in the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re being suffocated in a darkness that has no beginning or end. The darkness closes in on you, detonating claustrophobia inside your own body. You scream, the voice desperate, far away, and not entirely yours. A cold sense of abandonment sparks deep in your gut. They left me in here. Worse than the claustrophobia and the darkness is the gradually growing heat in your hands, like holding slowly igniting coals in your palms—

Fire.

They’re on fire.

The screaming becomes raw, haggard, pleading. The heat insufferable—this is hell. You must be in hell—

You wake with a jolt. A nightmare. You rub your clammy palms on your bed sheets, ridding them of the lingering phantom sensation. Your rapid breathing is shallow, prompting you to force deep inhales into your stomach to settle your racing heart. A nightmare like that… the familiar narrative behind it, that… borrowed abandonment you tasted, it had to be—the bond.  

Not a nightmare, you think. A memory. 

Azriel. Oh, Azriel. 

You jump out of your bed before you could convince yourself not to, taking your faelight in hand to light the way. 

The walk to his room cleared your head gradually, preparing you for the task ahead. Azriel was your mate, though he didn’t know that yet. The bond had snapped for you months ago, but not for him, so you’ve been keeping your love for him buried deep inside, waiting—dreaming—for the fateful day you hoped to witness the same wonder in his eyes when he looked at you that you held for him.

Reaching the door to his bedroom, you hesitated for a second. Knocking was probably not a wise call, with it potentially startling him in an already reactive state. You gently turned the doorknob with your free hand. There you found Azriel tossing in his bed, breathing ragged, his shadows churning in abrupt motions around him. You closed the door behind you and gently padded over to where he lay. 

Your heart ached at the sight of him distressed in his sleep. He was covered in a sweaty sheen that reflected in the faelight, eyebrows furrowed together. His head turned from side to side on his pillow as he fought the memories in his slumber. His bed was huge to support his wings, prompting you to sit on the edge of it to reach him. You raised your hand, willing away the nerves, and placed it on his shoulder. “Azriel,” you whispered. 

He didn’t answer, still moving in distress. You shifted closer to him, bringing one leg to fully bend beneath you. “Azriel,” you said a little louder, shaking his shoulder.

Azriel woke with a start, gasping at the abrupt awakening. His eyes snapped to yours, wide in his unguarded state. He continued to look at you in confusion, taking shaky breaths in and out. You withdrew your hand from his shoulder as he gathered himself.

“I… sorry, did I wake you?” His voice was gruff with sleep, even deeper than the usual baritone timbre.

“No, you didn’t, don’t worry,” you said quickly, shaking your head. 

He hauled himself upright into a sitting position, leaning against his headboard. The sheets fell as he did, pooling on his naked lower stomach. You didn’t dare avert your gaze from his eyes. He leaned his head back, bringing a hand up and dragging it down his face, still visibly shaken from his nightmare. “Sorry,” he said again. Your heart broke.

“Don’t be sorry, darling—” you cringed at the term of endearment slipping out before you could stop it. You shook your head again in emphasis. “You didn’t wake me.” 

He lowered his hands, turning to face you. His beautiful face still held pain from his nightmare—his memory —and you wanted nothing more than to relieve his anguish. If there was anything you could do to ease that pain, you’d give anything, sell anything, lose everything—

You had to swallow down the thought, shivering at the territorial instinct that came with the bond. Azriel’s breathing finally returned to normal, and the lost look in his eyes calmed. You wanted so badly to reach for him, you couldn’t help it. You gingerly traced your index finger across the back of his left hand where it rested between the two of you on the bed. He looked down to watch you touch him, and thankfully didn’t appear uneasy about it. You allowed yourself to grasp his hand at that permission, your right palm caressing the back of his left hand. He still watched. Then he turned his hand around so you could properly hold it, his hand swallowing yours up entirely with the sheer size of it. Your heart soared at the gesture, a feeling of deep belonging filling your stomach. If only he knew. 

“You okay, Az?” your voice was small. He met your gaze looking restless, haunted. 

“I’m… yeah, I’m okay now.” His shoulders sagged a bit. “Thank you for pulling me out.”

“Of course.”

His brows furrowed slightly once more, the crease still between them from his nightmare. “How’d you know I was having a nightmare?” 

Your cheeks heated. “I… I don’t know.” He continued to watch you, and you suddenly grew conscious of your current state. Hair down, nightgown exposing your thighs where you sat on his bed. You swallowed. “I actually, um, had a nightmare too. I came here because… I was afraid, and I wanted…” you trailed off, averting your gaze. Technically not a lie.

Azriel’s eyes softened, still taking you in. He squeezed your hand tenderly, prompting you to look at him once more. The amount of emotion he was displaying was a testament to how much his nightmare caught him off guard, how vulnerable it left him. “What was it that you wanted?” he urged you on gently. 

Perhaps you could reciprocate the vulnerability he was showcasing given all that transpired to bring the two of you to this moment. “Nothing, I just—I needed…” I needed to make sure you were safe. “I needed—”

“It’s okay,” he spoke gently, the gruffness in his voice subduing. He moved over on his bed, making room for you. He gave you a soft smile, though still not quite relaxed. You moved to sit fully on the bed, though you didn’t go under the covers. There was unfinished business at hand. 

You sat adjacent to him over the covers, hand still in his. You brought your joined hands into your lap and took a deep breath. “Would you… do you want to talk about yours?”

He blinked. “Wanna talk about yours?” he countered. 

You squeezed his hand in warning. He squeezed back. “Tell me if you need. If you want.” You let the honest love you felt for him show on your face, knowing he needed to see it more than you needed to hide it. 

While you hated the circumstances that prompted it, you also cherished the vulnerability he let show in his eyes at your presence, at your offer. His smile faded as he considered the opening. To your surprise, he took a deep breath. “My nightmare—it was a memory; I was back in my cell. My hands... they were on fire again.” He swallowed, studying your reaction. You just nodded in encouragement. “I was trapped, I couldn’t stop it, and the pain…” his eyes closed briefly at the thought of it, and he shuddered. You shifted closer to him, brought your free hand up to his face, and gently ran your thumb down the crease between his brows. His eyes remained closed, though he took a deep breath at the sensation, grounding himself. 

When he opened his eyes once more, he found yours brimmed with tears. “Oh, no (Y/N), please don’t cry. I’m sorry,” he said. You pulled your hands from him to wipe your eyes with the back of your hands.

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry,” you said, sniffling away the tears. He gently grasped both your wrists and pulled them away from your eyes. 

“Why are you crying, Angel?” his eyes were filled with concern.

“Because.” You gathered yourself. “I hate that you felt that pain.” 

His eyes softened again. “It’s okay, I’m good now. You pulled me out, remember?” he gently nudged your chin up with his bent index. You took a deep breath, quelling the tears. You met his gaze and nodded with a soft smile. “Now you tell me about yours.”

Shit. “Well,” you started. He waited with that steady patience of his. “I actually had a nightmare that, um, that you were hurt.” 

Azriel blinked, dumbfounded. “Me?”

You nodded shyly. Perhaps presenting the truth this way made it a white lie. “I just wanted to come make sure you were okay.” Your cheeks burned at the admission, but you couldn’t help it, wanting to let your affection reach out to him like a blanket. 

“And what’s the verdict?”

You gave him a shrug. “You’ve seen better days.” 

Azriel let out a genuine, rich laugh, head falling back onto the headboard. You felt your shoulders sag in relief at the sound, making you smile. 

When he raised his head once more to look at you, you felt contentment fall upon the two of you. His eyes were bright, a beautiful smile gracing his face, smoothing out the previous tension. 

His shadows began gently coiling themselves around your wrists, snaking their way up your arms. They had a habit of doing this since the bond snapped in place for you, making you smile at the thought, like a secret you shared with the shadows beyond Azriel’s awareness.

When you looked up once more, Azriel was watching you, something like fondness in his eyes as he took in the sight. “They like you.”

“I like them,” you supplemented. 

He opened his mouth but closed it before he said what he wanted to say. 

“What?” you asked.

“You—you’re a good friend, (Y/N). I appreciate—” he gestured vaguely between the two of you. “I appreciate your… thank you for everything.” His cheeks were tinted pink in the dim faelight, his eyes averted from your gaze. He ducked his head at his admission, making you smile deeper at the rare sight of flustered Azriel.  

You took his hand in yours once more and brought it up to kiss it, conveying what you couldn’t possibly say to him with words. He watched as you did, that warm look still in his hazel eyes. 

“Have you always been so touchy?” he teased. You gave a pointed look to where he was tracing circles into the back of your hand. He chuckled.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked more seriously. 

He squeezed your hand. “No.” 

“Aw,” you cooed, despite the heat in your cheeks. “Who knew the big bad spymaster could be such a softie.” 

Azriel groaned, but his smile didn’t falter. “If you tell anyone about this—”

“Not even Cassian?”

“Especially not Cassian.”

You laughed again, aware that he watched as you did. 

“Don’t worry, Az. I won’t tell the others. Maybe I like having you like this all to myself.” 

Mischief glinted in his eyes. “Of course you do. What with you dreaming about me and whatnot.” 

You laughed again, blushing like mad. “Azriel.”

“Hmm…” he said in pretend concern. “Whatever happened to ‘darling?’” 

Your eyes widened in shock, and you ducked your head sheepishly to hide your fluster. “It… just slipped out.” 

When you looked back up, his mischief was replaced with that affectionate look that you’d crawl for. “I’m just teasing, Angel,” he said. You continued to look at him from beneath your lashes, out of words to say. He swallowed and continued. “Are you just going to stare at me all night, or are we going to try to get some rest?” 

You rolled your eyes but took the invitation. You got off the bed and he lifted the covers for you. As you made your way under them, you didn’t miss his eyes roaming across your exposed legs. He lowered himself into the bed as well. You both faced each other, the faelight dimming as it floated in the room. “Where’d your touchy tendencies go?” he said, making you smile again. 

“Az, if you need me to spoon you, just say so.”

He chuckled but opened his arms. You shifted slightly up on the bed to let yourself envelope him, arms wrapping around his neck tightly, holding his head to your chest. His arms wrapped around your waist. You felt such tangible happiness that you had to swallow to keep yourself from getting emotional. I love him I love him I love him. You twisted your body to lay more flatly on the bed, prompting him to turn on his stomach. He kept his hips and legs off yours to mind his weight on your frame. His head still rested on your chest, arms still wrapped around your waist beneath you, and your arms held him steadfastly around his neck. His wings settled on either side of him around the two of you.

You could get drunk off the emotion you felt, and it would be the warmest, most breathtaking intoxication you’ll ever feel. You felt yourself getting lulled to sleep, the weight of him on your chest overwhelming you with love. His shadows gently caressed your hair, making it harder to stay awake. “Az,” you mumbled, half asleep.

“Yes, Angel.”

“You’re my best friend.”

You felt him smile on your chest, felt his eyes crinkle and his cheek shift upwards. “You’re mine, too.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, stroking it back in a gentle, repeated motion. You felt him shiver. He shifted slightly to place a kiss on your shoulder. And with that, you fell into the deepest slumber, lulled by the beat of his heart against your stomach, pulsing in time with the bond buried in your chest where his head rested. 

~

Sunlight filtered through the window, rousing Azriel from his sleep. It was the deepest, most restful sleep he’s had in years. How you knew he was having a nightmare, he still didn’t know, though the fact that you had one too, the fact that you came to him for comfort and safety—that made his chest ache with pride, and something else. Little did you know how safe you made him feel. 

Azriel sat up, gently pulling your arms off his shoulders. You spent the entire night holding him to your chest, squeezing the broken bits of his soul back together. It had felt like he was anchored right to your heart. How you took his weight on your smaller frame, he also didn’t understand, but he let himself be selfish. He shifted his wings up to block your face from the sun, admiring the softness in your face as you rested. Just like the night before, his shadows gently wove themselves around your hands, your hair. You’re my best friend, you’d said to him. He closed his eyes and replayed that sound over and over in his mind. 

If only you knew how much more he felt. He’d fallen asleep to the rhythmic beat of your heart against his ear. He could still hear it, even now. Pulsing. He put his hand over his own chest and found his heartbeat matching that phantom pulse he heard. Felt. Suddenly, his shadows began weaving their way up from your hair, up an invisible string. Azriel furrowed his brows at the sight, confused. He felt that pulsing grow stronger, still watching his shadows move up. From your chest to his. That pulsing… it wasn’t just the memory he heard, it also wasn’t your current heartbeat, it was—

His shadows finally reached his chest, made their way up around his neck, and whispered.

Mate 

Mate

Mate

Azriel’s eyes widened in shock. His breath caught in his throat, and he felt a snap, deep in his ribs. His heartbeat started racing, only heightening the pulsing he felt in… in the bond.  

He could hardly breathe.

She’s my mate.

You woke then, bringing your hand to your chest, rubbing at the same spot he felt on his end of the bond. Your brows furrowed slightly in worry. “Azriel? What’s the matter?”

He realized you sensed his shock down the bond. Sensed it, and… wasn’t surprised to be receiving it. She knows.

He continued to gape at you, prompting your eyes to widen and to haul yourself up to assess the situation. 

“Az, what is it?”  

Your eyes trailed to his hand on his chest, and you gasped lightly. 

He feels it, you thought. Oh my god. 

“You’re… are you… you’re my mate,” he breathed. You nodded tentatively, unsure if he was happy to hear that confirmation or not. “Is that how you knew?” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Knew what?” 

“About the nightmare,” he said.

You bit your lip nervously, watching him as he studied you. You nodded in confirmation. “I… your dreams, sometimes they… seep into mine. Through the bond.” 

He looked at your hands then, concern replacing the confusion. “Did—did I hurt you?”

“What?”

“In the dream. Were you hurt?” his worry was also seeping through the bond, though you didn’t tell him that.

“No,” you lied, not wanting him to feel guilty. He gently took your hands and inspected them, as if he would find evidence of pain there. You allowed him to see, turning them over, and when he was sure there were no signs of hurt, he met your gaze again. 

“I guess this makes you my dream girl, huh?” he teased. You felt relief at the humour easing the tension, though you rolled your eyes as you huffed a laugh.

“Punny,” was all you could say.

His stare turned serious again. “You knew,” he said. You nodded once again. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. You felt a kernel of hurt down the bond, giving you the courage to speak up.

“I wanted to wait for you, Az.”

You felt relief replacing the hurt, making you briefly close your eyes at the comfortable feeling. He still watched you. “Are you… okay with this?” he asked tentatively. 

“Okay with what?”

“With being mated… to me.” 

“Are you okay with it?” you countered. 

“Yes,” he breathed. That word you’ve been waiting months to hear. You closed your eyes once more and opened up the dam deep inside that you kept tightly sealed, and let the love absolutely pour out of you, and into him.

Azriel gasped at the feeling, his own eyes fluttering shut. When they opened again, there was silver lining them. The love you sent down the bond was making its way back into you, like two waves crashing into each other. You shuddered at the overwhelming love, feeling like you might explode if you didn’t release the emotion. 

You got up on your knees to get closer to him. He watched as you did, wonder in his eyes as he took you in, completely letting his guard down. You held his face in your hands, and he closed his eyes at the sensation. You moved closer to him and threw your arms around his neck. He immediately wrapped his arms around you once more. Like how the two of you held each other through the night; the same but different. Once again, you felt the love for him inside you like a sentient creature. I love him I love him I love him. 

To your eternal relief and delight, to the actualization of your very dreams, you felt the mantra being sung back to you.

I love you too. 

~

taglist: @iimisty-a @feyretopia @cityofidek

[tatsumessy]

when you get hurt badly - {blade (honkai star rail)}

you and blade had been dating for a while now but you having a shy personality and blade having more of a cold personality you were always put off a bit. not in a bad way but in a way to where you don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize the relationship. you both hadn’t discussed anything as important comparing to the future cause you were both busy with work but ever now and then he would make it known to people that you were in a relationship.

whether you two were in the same vicinity he’d always stay at most five feet away from you or just hover behind you while you do whatever you were doing. other than that, that was the most stimulation the two of you had with each other. but then there were sometimes where so many people would ask you because you were more prone to be talked too if you and blade broke up and you would say no with a little hesitation. because you were confused as to why they were asking such a stupid question.

things like this made you reminisce on your relationship that you should’ve tried harder on. currently you and three other people were dispatched on a mission to a dangerous deserted town that housed dangerous thugs and vigilantes. this would’ve been a piece of cake if you weren’t stuck with trainees who had a smaller power level than you. they all got caught off gaye’s and got beaten to a pulp, you were yelling at the last girl to stand up while you fought some guy but she wasn’t moving.

fear struck and your assumption was that she was dead, that moment of hesitation and confusion got you punched in the face. the man then proceeded to step on your leg breaking it. screaming out in pain you pulled out your weapon and started swinging at the man. he didn’t take your half assed threat seriously as he pushed forward knocking you harder onto the ground, your head hit the concrete with such impact that before you passed out you could feel him stab you in your stomach then a familiar voice of your mentor.

when you woke up everything was foggy, you remembered everything but your head hurt like a bitch. “your awake.” your mentor spoke, you sat up ignoring the pain and reopening your wound up trying to figure if the girl was okay. “she is fine. lay back down so i can stitch you back up. you have a concussion, a busted lip, two broken ribs and a broken leg. and you’re worried about someone else. reckless.” you rolled your eye while biting on your fingernails, “this is my fault. i should’ve paid better attention…” you said staring and wincing at the needle piercing through your skin again.

“you did fine, apparently they knew you were coming and planned that attack. you did as best as you could y/n.” she said cutting the excess off then grabbed bandages to wrap around your waist. suddenly the room door swung open and it was the last person your were expecting. blade was rushing into the room frantically looking around for you. once his eyes locked with yours he walked over and pushed your mentor out the way then grabbed your face to look at you. “what the hell happened. first of all, why didn’t you tell me you were going out on a mission?”

“it was an easy one i could’ve done it in my sleep.” you responded darting your eyes away from him, he was awfully close and your face was starting to heat up. “yet here you are with a broken leg, busted lip, concussion and broken ribs y/n. like i said what the hell happened out there? who did this to you.” “i was protecting someone i was incharge of. rather me than her.” you said trying to push him away so you could get some breathing room but he stayed put.

“no, better her than you.” he placed his hands on his hips and glared down at you. “i’m okay, it wasn’t a big deal blade.” for a second you could see a slight red dark glow in his eyes, it quite frankly scared you. he turned towards your mentor, “can we have the room please.” she nodded her head yes then left the room quickly, even she could sense the tension between the two of you.

“do you have a death wish or something? you. could. have. died.” he said emphasizing each word, you felt like you were getting scolded by your parent but really it was just your overprotective boyfriend. “but i didn’t. i was doing my job protecting the trainees.” he sighed and rolled his eyes before sitting down right next to you on the already shaky bed. you looked at him in confusion, he put his arm around your shoulder and forced you to lean into him. “i wish you leaned on me more y/n. i know i haven’t done my best on trying to move our relationship forward but come on.”

you wanted to laugh at his facial expression to mask the pain that you were in because this was a momentous occasion. blade actually opening up to you which with the pain you were in already made you emotional. tears fell down your cheeks, you wrap your arms around his abdomen and cry into his chest. “it hurts so bad…and i felt so helpless” you whined out, he laughed softly at your crying happy that you weren’t hiding things from him anymore especially when you were in pain.

[moldycantaloupe]

Ficlet of Phantom having a thing for Rain's hands while they show him how to restring a guitar. it happens to the best of us, sometimes.

Phantom was never taught about personal space when he was summoned. It wasn’t a thing in the Pit, at least not where he lived, so how could he have been taught? It wasn’t the biggest problem, they eventually taught him about the concept when Dewdrop tried to maul him because he just wanted to bear hug the small ghoul. He did his best to keep his distance since then, if not to keep his head connected to his body. He was getting better at keeping his hands to himself. That is, he wasn’t perfect just yet. 

It was late afternoon, every ghoul finding menial tasks to do while they waited around for dinner. Phantom was with Rain in the band’s practice room, learning hands on how to restring his guitar. They’ve only been at it for about ten minutes, and Phantom would be lying if he said he was paying any attention at that point. Being this close to Rain, both sitting crisscrossed and knees touching, he was watching their hands skillfully work, and he was a little distracted. 

He tuned out whatever Rain was explaining a few minutes ago, their voice a nice and constant hum in the background of his mind, as he solely focused on their hands. Their fingers. They moved with no hesitation along the guitar, smoothing a string out along the neck and into the tuner. He couldn’t help it when he reached out suddenly, all social cues lost on him in the moment to grab Rain’s hand and shoved it towards his eyes to get a better look.

“Now, you want to- woah!” Rain dropped their free arm in front of them to keep balance at the sudden pull, eyes immediately landing on the young quint’s face with a slight frown. “Phantom?”

Phantom didn’t respond, he didn’t even seem to register Rain’s voice, his eyes glued to the hand in front of him. He used both of his own to poke and play at their hand, a finger sliding along their middle finger, feeling the ridges of their knuckle. He couldn’t explain the sudden excitement he was filled with, his mouth just slightly agape as his eyes were wide with wonder. He only came to when the hand he was holding snapped its fingers. 

“Water to Quint,” Rain spoke louder than what would be necessary, but got the attention that they were looking for. Phantom immediately broke out of his trance, glancing between them and their hand for a split second before dropping it like it was on fire.

“Shit, s-sorry, um-” He casted his eyes down to the Fantomen in Rain’s lap, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. “I don’t… I didn’t-”

“You’re okay, bug,” Rain laughed, waving their hand in the air. “Saw something you liked?”

They meant it as a joke, a way to break whatever tension was in the air, but the silence from the other ghoul, they way they turned their face even more to hide an ever growing blush, it caught their attention. 

They were slow to move the guitar off of their lap, keeping their eyes on Phantom the entire time as they leaned in, a hand snaking its way to his knee, squeezing ever so slightly. Phantom gasped quietly, a small shiver running through his body at the contact. 

“Rain,” he whined. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, bug.” They responded, face inching closer to his own. “I like a curious ghoul.”

Phantom bit his lip when that hand traveled further up his leg, slow and steady towards his newly aching cock.

“Does a little bug have a thing for hands?” Rain cooed. They laughed when Phantom shrugged and gave him a squeeze. “I think he does.”

“Please,” he shook in anticipation, any guitar lesson sorely forgotten, “please, Rain, help,”

Whatever was holding Rain back let go as they leapt into action. They slid the guitar off their lap and was in his instead, their lips traveling across the plain of his neck. He gasped into the touches, his hands moving to bracket Rain’s shoulders.

“You’re still such a cutie.” Rain breathed around his neck. They worked their way through his pants and out sprung his leaking cock, deft fingers finding their way wrapped around it. Phantom choked on a moan as his blunt nails dug into their clothed skin.

“Rain-” He whined when their pace left no room for question, their pace fast and desperate. Slick noises were heard throughout the room, interrupted every few beats with a rogue whimper or moan.

“You’re gonna get us found out, baby.” Rain moved their other hand to their mouth, bullying two fingers in, effectively muffling the noise. “You can be as loud as you want later, how’s that sound?”

“‘M close-” he cut himself off with a hitched moan when Rain twisted their hand at his base.

“I’m not stopping you.” Rain moved their face to the cuff of his neck, breathing in the heady scent of his arousal. They ground their hips into his cock, a wanton moan forced its way out of their throat. “Fuck, you make me so wet, buggy.”

That was enough for Phantom. He closed his eyes as he shot his load against their fist and pants, a quiet scream as he fell into their body.

They took their fingers out of his mouth to force his chin up, lidded eyes meeting their own. He let out a wrecked moan as he watched them clean up his mess from their fingers, paying close attention to each digit. He felt his spent cock already twitch in interest.

“Want more, baby?” They ground their hips into his own again, and sure enough he could feel how damp they had become.

“Yes, please.”

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

because of brock

brock boeser x f!reader

summary: a breakup because of brock

warnings: swearing, hints of a slightly toxic relationship/lack of trust between two people, hints of unrecognised emotional infidelity, fluff, awkwardness

word count: 8.7k

Petey was first to knock – twenty minutes early as per usual. Usually you’d invite him in, sit him down, pour him and drink and carry on setting things up for everyone else; he’d offer a hand, maybe help lay the table. Not this time.

This time you threw the door open on your way to the kitchen, not even sparing a second to greet him, before rushing into the kitchen, the beeping of the oven signalling something was ready, but you couldn’t of the life of you remember what. You hadn’t wiped the table, put the tablecloth on, tidied the living room (or moved the mess from the living room into your room to at least make it look more presentable), got the drinks out, or even finished cooking everything.

And Petey took all of that in from where he’d stepped into your apartment, a bottle of wine securely in his hands, and sporting a slight wince upon hearing the swearing and clanging from the kitchen area. He quickly placed the wine on the table, shrugging his coat off – and for the first time ever, he found you accepting his offer for help, a rather frazzled look about you.

It was only after he’d got the drinks out of the fridge, wiped the table, put the tablecloth down, and double-counted the placemats that he knew that slightly frazzled look was for a reason. You hadn’t really uttered a word since he’d walked in, just a simple greeting and multiple thank you’s for his help. You hadn’t really smiled once, and you’d not even attempted small talk like you usually would.

You’d just kept quiet, throwing things in and out of the oven, eyes anxiously darting to the clock above the door.

Elias was a little hesitant at asking. There was something tingling in the back of his head, like he knew what you were about to say, and he wasn’t so sure if it would be okay to bring it up so close to everyone arriving if you got upset. He was also less-prepped on how to look after you. That had always fallen to Brock, or at least, it used to be.

He eyed you in the kitchen where you’d taken to stacking up the right number of plates, hair falling out of a braid, before carefully stepping closer, “Where’s Noah tonight?” He asked tentatively.

Elias almost winced at the cut-up glance you wore, swallowing hard and immediately avoiding looking at him. He could tell you were trying not to act too hurt, or maybe it was simply practice before you had to perform this facade in front of everyone else. Your hands were still busy, and he heard you sigh a little, “We broke up.” Was all you said, shooting a curious glance in his direction, probably to gauge his reaction.

And because Elias had suspected that answer, his face didn’t really tell a tale of shock. His brows were raised a little, but he was clearly sympathetic, offering a nod of understanding, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, more hair falling out of your braid. 

Elias nodded again, brain itching. You were good at acting like you were fine, but this was a new level of nonchalance – even for you.You’d clearly been a little flustered in the time he’d spent helping you set up, and nearly every year you stressed a little playing host, he’d beared witness to it time and time again; there was no other real evidence you were too affected by it – not like how he’d initially predicted.

There were no teary eyes, achy throats or raspy voices that suggested you were holding back tears. Your body language didn’t give anything away.

“When did you guys break up?” He found himself asking, more out of his own curiosity.

He knew you well, which was why he found there was something a little irksome about the entire thing.

You didn’t seem to care that he’d pried after you’d said you didn’t want to talk about it, because there was barely a second’s hesitation before you were answering him, “About two months ago, I think.”

Elias blinked. Two months? You think? He could have sworn last week you’d made a comment about Noah playing golf, which must have meant…

“Does Brock know?” He frowned, trying to work out the mental maths of the tangled timelines.

Brock hadn’t said anything about it if he knew. In fact, he’d been pretty miserable for a while, now that Elias was thinking about it, which meant–

“No.” 

Oh. Oh.

“You’re the only person that knows.” You admitted shyly, rubbing a hand against the back of your neck as you pressed your lips into a tight line, “I��m just trying to sort some things out, first. But please don’t mention anything, I want to be the one to tell people.”

He nodded, “Of course.”

You offered him a rather relieved smile, “Thanks.” You could tell Elias had about a hundred other questions he was dying to get the answers to, but his reserved smile let you know he respected your wishes. 

That, and the insinuation behind your words had been pretty clear – at least it would have been to Elias. To anyone else, maybe not so much.

***

Elias wasn’t an idiot, and he knew you didn’t take him as one, but it didn’t exactly take a genius to realise that you’d been avoiding Brock all night. The poor guy had been on edge since he walked into the apartment, probably expecting Noah to jump out from behind the door and send him glares all night, because that’s what had happened almost every time the two of them entered the same room within the last two years. 

You got quiet and kept a careful eye on Noah, yet remained ready to jump to Brock’s defence if Noah did end up being provoked in some way; Brock tried to stay out of it all, but it was kind of difficult when Noah kept making the issue about Brock, even if he hadn’t done anything worthy of the attention. And in all honesty, it had Elias wondering why you ever put up with Noah in the first place; even when it was you and Noah, it had always been you and Brock.

Yet, even after having broken up with Noah, you maintained that ten-feet-apart-unspoken-notion, and Elias had to applaud your dedication to keeping up appearances.

And he, ever the observer, could feel the tension get a little thicker with every minute that went by when some brave soul chickened out of bringing up the elephant in the room. He thought it was bad when everyone seemed to stall after greeting you at the door, having got used to Noah being at your hip, but things had gone from bad to worse after the food, and now it felt like the room was stifling with all the tension.

He supposed he should stay out of it, but he kept catching you and Brock share glances out of the corner of his eye, and each time you broke eye contact, he could practically feel Brock deflate next to him – and that was about as much as he could take before he turned to Quinn on his other side, the Captain quietly sipping on his drink and content to listen to others conversations.

He nudged him, and Quinn shot him a befuddled look before leaning closer, “Ask about Noah.” Elias whispered subtly, purposefully looking straight across the room to avoid arousing your suspicion.

Quinn seemed to think about it for a second, and Elias glanced back, only to be faced with raised eyebrows, and an ‘is this really what i think it is?’ look written on his face. Elias nodded, and Quinn sat up a little straighter, shooting a pointed stare at Brock’s side profile.

It took Elias' meaningful shake of his head for Quinn to instantly clear his throat and lean closer to you, “Hey, where’s Noah tonight?” 

His voice was quiet, a hushed murmur, but because of the close proximity Quinn had with Brock, the latter heard it perfectly. And Elias feigned composure, choosing to glue his eyes to Brock like he had no part in Quinn’s question – but even without actually looking at you, he could feel the temporary heat of your stare on the side of his face.

He just scratched his nose.

Brock on the other hand, seemed to still, his knuckles going a little white against the glass he’d clutched in his hand. And like Elias, he was subtle about his interest in the conversation, but he might have held his breath, and he might have tuned out everything else in a bid to make out your response.

If Noah wasn’t here, from Brock’s perspective, that meant he could actually talk to you. 

“Um…” He could sense you cringe at the question, and his brows furrowed a little. It wasn’t like you to hesitate, “In Atlanta.”

Brock couldn’t help the way his neck snapped to look at you. You were still giving Quinn your full attention, but almost like you could sense his piercing stare, your concentration wavered, slipping to him. And, for the life of him, Brock could not get a read on you. It was like your eyes were trying to tell him something, but the rest of your face seemed to remain neutral – completely unbothered by the fact that your boyfriend (who refused to travel for work) was not only in another country, but on the opposite side of the continent, almost.

Then, in the blink of an eye, you turned back to Quinn.

Brock didn’t move an inch, anticipation curling up his spine uncomfortably. 

Quinn seemed to follow his train of thought, though, because the next thing that came out of his mouth was an automatic, “How come?”

Brock could have sworn the corners of your mouth turned up fractionally. He could have sworn you just didn’t give a shit. 

“We broke up.” You shrugged simply.

If he’d had a mouthful of his drink, he would’ve spat it out. If he’d been standing, he’d have had to sit down, and he could have sworn his heart dropped to his feet all within a second. He felt warm, maybe a little too hot for comfort, and he had to take a swig of his drink to ease his dry mouth.

Quinn carried on, “Why?” Almost tumbled out of his mouth, perhaps in a manner that might have been viewed as a little insensitive, something he seemed to catch onto, but before he could even splutter an apology, you were already talking.

And Brock wanted to turn up the volume of your voice so he wouldn’t risk missing a single breath, pause or word of what you were about to say. He wanted to record it, so he could listen to it later and know he wasn’t making it all up in his head.

But when your eyes slid over to him for a mere millisecond, he almost fell on Elias. When someone asks why you broke up with your partner, you don’t look at the person who seemed to accidentally cause more arguments and tensions than ever recorded in your personal history. You don’t look at the person that probably understood you better than anyone else you’d ever met.

Because if you did, that meant something.

It meant it hadn’t been in Brock’s head: the soft looks when no one was looking; the gentle touches. It started out as a way to compensate for the way Noah seemed to zero in on your friendship and forbid either of you talking to each other in front of him. The hours you used to spend in each other’s company was reduced to almost nothing, and Brock had had to live through two years of that. Well…there were a few exceptions to that in regards to personal things – you’d actually moved in with him for a bit then.

But Brock had been missing you for two whole years, it didn’t matter that you had the same friends or saw each other every couple of weeks. He’d taken a step back, for your sake, but it had only made things worse.

And now you’d thrown him a glance.

“Just wanted different things.” 

Brock took a sip of his drink in an attempt to stop himself from scoffing at your blatant lie. It was written all over your face plain as day. Your shoulders were a little tense, and you could no longer look at Quinn for more than three seconds at a time before the uncomfortable-ness seemed to prick you in the temples.

And Brock knew that without you even saying anything.

Quinn nodded out of the corner of Brock’s eye, accepting the answer and clearly not wanting to pry for fear of making the entire situation more awkward.

And through the pounding heart and racing thoughts, Brock took a deep breath, turning to Elias only to see the blonde smirking at him from over the top of his glass. He didn’t have it in him to roll his eyes or pull a face at his friend, so he pushed himself out of his chair and made for the kitchen, glass empty.

Only, when he pulled open the door to the fridge, there was nothing left of what he had been drinking. For some reason, as he looked around at everything else on offer, he couldn’t pick. He was reading labels – familiar ones, too, ones that he liked – and he couldn’t decide which one he should settle for because he couldn’t have what he’d been drinking the entire night. He only wanted his drink, and all the other options were just becoming even less desirable by the second.

He stared at the contents a little while longer, the cold from the open door beginning to set a chill in his bones, before swallowing and shutting it without another thought. He could settle for lemonade or water or something. He turned to the sink, rinsing out his glass and picking the tea towel off the oven door like it was second nature, and it wasn’t until a glass was placed down on the kitchen island behind him that he was made aware he wasn’t alone.

His chest seemed to swell at seeing you awkwardly standing on the other side of the counter, looking rather as if you were about to say something. Your palm came down to rest against the cold granite, and you swung your eyes to the fridge, sighing and wandering over to it.

Brock turned back to the sink, keeping an eye on you in his peripheral vision. He almost smiled at the fact that you seemed to hesitate choosing something too, before shutting the door and turning to the bottle of wine already on the counter, hastily filling up a clean glass.

There was a strange tension between the two of you; not knowing what to say to each other because there was so much to say, but there were people in the other room, and it was all rather exhausting. You inhaled, trying to ease the familiar tightness in your chest that always seemed to appear when you looked at Brock.

He was wearing a pale blue button down with dark jeans, blonde hair swept back using his hands. He had his back to you, and you took a swig of wine to ease your nerves. 

It was as you placed the glass back on the counter, unconsciously twiddling your necklace that he turned around, leaning against the sink, towel thrown over his shoulder with a clean and dry glass in his hand.

He was looking at you, and you felt your lips twitch into a smile – awkward, but real – that disappeared almost as quickly as you’d done it. He didn’t echo the same sentiment, instead choosing to furrow his brows, clenching his jaw and zipping his eyes into the living room.

“Why did you break up with Noah?” He asked after a quiet moment, intently fixing his gaze on you as you inhaled, slightly caught off guard with the upfront question.

You’d expected him to ask it eventually, but this was the first time you’d had real privacy in ages. A little icebreaker wouldn’t have hurt. But now wasn’t really a time to joke or dance around it, either.

You just sighed, “Wanted different things.” It was the answer you’d given earlier – not a lie, exactly, but not the entire truth. And judging from the way Brock seemed to immediately leave after you’d told that to Quinn, he must have seen through it.

He blinked, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe it, “Like what?” He challenged, folding the tea towel and putting it on the side, glass quickly following as he took a seat at the island, facing you.

The close proximity almost instinctively had you wanting to look over your shoulder to check if Noah was watching from somewhere, but then that feeling of paranoia seemed to dissolve. The knot in your chest loosened, and you felt your shoulders drop slightly. 

Part of the reason you’d held off telling people – Brock specifically – was that the truth would just invite even more questions. Maybe even arguments: you dated Noah for two years and when a couple has been together for a certain period of time, certain things are expected, and when that opportunity presents itself, sometimes the wrong questions are answered.

But you held your nerve, looking straight into Brock’s eyes as you hesitated a little. You’d never uttered the words to anyone other than your best friend and your parents.

“He proposed, actually.” You muttered, immediately biting the inside of your cheek as you watched Brock carefully.

It felt like a relief to admit it out loud, a load off your shoulders. Speaking about it made it true, and you felt less trapped because of it. Noah made you feel trapped, and a lack of Noah meant a lack of that claustrophobia. 

Brock seemed to freeze, his mouth parting in shock and any previous scepticism completely erased; his brows were furrowed, and he looked away from you, processing. One hand ran through his hair, and then, almost as if to check, his attention went straight to your left hand. At the noticeable blank space on your finger, he seemed to gain the courage to look at you again.

There was confusion there, but he seemed incapable of speaking.

“It’s kind of weird because I never actually knew what I was going to say when I thought about it as a hypothetical situation, but then he put the box on the restaurant table and people were watching, and it was the easiest and hardest ‘no’ I’ve ever had to say.” You breathed, clenching your jaw and trying to block out the look of betrayal on Noah’s face that had etched itself in your head – you couldn’t quite escape it yet. “And now he’s in Atlanta because he thought that it would make sense to propose and then make me move to another country because he got a promotion. Guess he hadn’t considered me not wanting to marry him.” You laughed, despite yourself, it quickly dying when the guilt came flooding in again.

You’d loved Noah, but it had changed towards the end – you both seemed to change, and a part of you was still mourning the future you thought you’d have had when you started dating.

It was funny how things changed, because you were pretty certain you were more in love with the blonde in your kitchen than you ever were with Noah, and it was just a shame that it took the threat of moving to Atlanta and marrying someone very much not him that made you realise it.

A man proposes, and the first thing you think about is leaving Brock, and suddenly the answer is just as clear as day. It had crept upon you slowly, harmlessly at first (a simple crush), until it had evolved into this loud, obnoxious thing that you couldn’t ignore.

You’d planned on breaking up with Noah anyway, it was starting to fizzle out for the both of you, only Noah’s reaction had been to propose. That had always been the difference.

“He proposed in public?” Brock asked, tone a little firmer, and when you quickly glanced at him there was some quiet rage on the planes of his face.

That had been the difference between Brock and Noah. Noah thought he knew you, but Brock was the one who actually did.

You nodded.

Brock scoffed, shaking his head, “He always was a dick.”

And you didn’t have the heart to disagree. You kept quiet, focusing on a spot on the granite work surface and absentmindedly taking a sip of your wine.

Brock seemed to take in your silence, looking at you closely. He hadn’t been able to get a read on you in front of everyone – you were always a little too good at keeping up appearances for the sake of not worrying others – the only difference was you seemed to unconsciously zone out of it when you were with him. Your eyes got softer, more vulnerable, and you seemed to unwind – like you knew you didn’t have to worry about being judged, or watched, or anything else.

It was always just you and Brock.

And that’s what was happening now: your hair fell in front of your face as you followed the wine glass with your eyes, and you didn’t make a move to tuck it behind your ear. Your eyes were glossy, not with unshed tears, but emotion, and you had bags under your eyes, probably from a lack of proper sleep. Brock supposed this dinner wasn’t helping matters either, especially not if he walked in through the front door to see Elias watching you with concern as you avoided everyone. It wasn’t just him. 

You lifted your head, eyes flitting to him briefly. 

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, feeling himself lean towards you. 

He wanted you to be okay, but it was a big ask given the circumstances. You nodded, but it did nothing to quell the rising urge to wrap you in his arms, have you touch him without having to worry about that shitty ex of yours. 

Selfishly, he didn’t want to let go if he gave into that urge, but, as usual, when it came to you, you were more important than his own silly little aches and yearns. He’d mastered patience at the expense of his own happiness when it came to you, and he could wait longer – that was a no-brainer.

But the nodding wasn’t comforting: you’d nodded when he’d asked you that before and been crying. It was like an automatic ‘I’m fine’ was just programmed into you, and he didn’t even think you were sure why you did it.

“Are you sure?” He asked, wanting, needing you to give him something else other than a nod.

“Yeah.” You breathed, hands a little clammy at the way he seemed to stare right into your soul, “It’s just…I thought I’d be more affected by it, but I-I’d already detached myself because I was going to break up with him anyway.” You trailed off, voice getting quieter as though your admission was taboo. 

Both of Brock’s hands seemed to lose sense as they fell to the counter, his arms crossing and then uncrossing.

It was instantaneous, the way he seemed to flush, his heart hammering at his ribcage at the insinuation of what you were saying. 

“You were?” He echoed, not quite believing it. Between the past few months, and everything you’d told and done this evening, he was beginning to think that maybe he wasn’t just imagining things – everything that had happened was for a reason, “How long had you been thinking about breaking up with him?”

“A while.” Then, “It hadn’t felt right since the summer, and I’ve had, like, two months to think about it so–”

“You broke up two months ago?” 

The look on Brock’s face almost floored you. Somehow it had you regretting ever not telling him in the first place, even despite knowing it was for the better. There were so many emotions swimming in his eyes, but the only one you could pick out was upset.

It felt like you’d been kicked in the stomach.

“Apart from family, only Lauren knows.” You immediately began to backpedal, wanting to wipe the expression off his face as soon as you could: you had to make him realise. You weren’t quite ready to act on it, but you needed him to know, “I had to figure some stuff out before I told you. Noah had to move out and I changed the lease, and I needed to think things over.”

His face relaxed, before he raised a brow, something akin to an apprehensive understanding melting on his face, as though he was hesitant to take it for what you meant, “What things?”

You swallowed, nerves tingling in your chest. You inhaled, trying to build up your courage, “You things.”

He opened his mouth, leaning back as though the deliverance of your words knocked him backwards, but no words came out. And you didn’t quite have the bravery to keep looking at him when he didn’t know what to say, so you turned your back, reaching to fill up your wine glass again. 

You spun back around, only to face a still-dumbfounded Brock, and a hesitant Elias hovering by the doorway. You could tell from the way he still had a hand on the door and his frantic eyes as they hovered between you and Brock, that he instantly sensed he’d just walked in on something.

But you refused to look at Brock, mostly just because you didn’t know what you’d do if it turned out he was looking at you with distaste. In fact, you tried to avoid his eyes, though you could feel them piercing you with some desperation – but he didn’t say or indicate anything as you made your way back around the island, closer to the door and to Elias.

You tried a smile, though from the way the Swede seemed to switch his gaze from you to Brock behind you, with a little hardness, you figured it didn’t perform as you wanted. But you were glad for the interruption, “You coming in for a refill?” You asked, meeting him at the door.

He shook his head, dragging his attention back to you with a sorry smile, “No, I just came to say goodnight. Me, Quinn…and Brock are gonna go now. It’s getting pretty late.”

Brock shook his head from behind you, trying to catch Elias’s attention. He knew his friend was only making an excuse for him because you had looked a little shaken when he walked in, but you both had, and the last thing he wanted was to leave after that faint admission of some kind of non-platonic feelings. It had taken a lot in you, he could tell.

Not just the admission, but breaking up with Noah. And all Brock wanted was to sit you down and talk about it, not just for his own clarification, but because you needed to hear it from him, too.

Yet, with the stern glare Elias was pinning him over your head as the two of you hugged briefly in parting, he knew he didn’t have a choice. 

He stood next to Elias, who kept a firm grip on the back of his shirt like a parent and their kid with a tendency to go wandering off, but it was for different reasons. It seemed once Elias and Quinn had announced that the three of them were leaving, almost everyone else had taken inspiration, so now there was a queue to the door and you, and Brock was seemingly at the back.

He wanted to say goodbye, but he had a gut feeling that he was about to be dragged out of the door before he could cause any more damage, though all he’d ever done was just show his face in these kinds of situations (he would willingly admit that sometimes he had to ask around to actually see if you were going in the first place; if you were, it was a no-brainer, but he had on occasion turned an invite down purely because you were busy).

The entire situation was frustrating him, and the irony in that wasn’t lost on him, especially because when he walked through the door earlier, this wasn’t the outcome he’d ever anticipated. 

Elias moved his hand from his shirt to Brock’s bicep, squeezing to get his attention, “What happened in there?”

Brock blinked, his eyes briefly flickering to Elias’s, purely just to gauge his reaction, before flipping back to you – he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from you since you said The Thing that just about took his breath away and simultaneously gave him oxygen to cure the breathlessness – certain Elias wasn’t too pissed at him, “Noah proposed.” He breathed, able to catch the way Elias’s mouth fell in shock out of the corner of his eye, “And she said no, but it turns out she was gonna end it with him before that.” His mind seemed to run through everything you said, as it had been, your voice playing on loop like a scratchy record player in the back of his mind, and he huffed a conflicted breath. 

It was something to know you returned a fraction of what he felt for you, but it was another thing to know that he was part of the reason you said no. 

Did it make him a homewrecker? A third party? 

Is this the price of his own happiness? The guilt?

“‘Cause of me.” He finished, finally turning back to Elias with knitted brows.

The two of them looked at each other for a few seconds, Elias clearly digesting everything. Quinn was oblivious, yawning off to the side.

“You two never…” Elias trailed off, widening his eyes pointedly, and Brock scoffed, shaking his head.

“Fuck no. You really think either of us would–”

“It’s not your fault, then.” Elias shrugged, ignoring Brock’s words, “It’s neither of your faults, you know that, right?”

Brock breathed. Elias was a pretty cheeky guy, his comments were ruthless but they never had a single ounce of malice, yet there was something about the way he so effortlessly forewent that kind of reaction and chose to reassure Brock that had him nodding, “I think I needed to hear that.”

“Could tell. Thought you were going to shit yoursel–Hi.” Elias coughed and spluttered, his attention no longer on Brock as he fought to change his words before you caught onto what they’d been talking about.

He turned to look at you, accidentally misjudging the distance, because as he turned, his shoulder bumped yours gently, and you instinctively looked up at the contact, both of you just caught for a split second. 

Brock clenched his jaw at your thinly veiled apprehension at having to face him again: you were twisting the rings on your fingers, and you inhaled sharply – awkwardly – when he turned to you.

You’d never done that before with him. 

And Brock was stunned, not because you were literally stealing the air out of his lungs every time he looked at you (you were breathtaking – always were, always had been), but because that was the first time you’d touched and he felt the tingle from where you’d brushed him. The skin under his shirt seemed to burn at it.

You were so magnetic sometimes that it rendered him speechless.

And that was all happening inside him when you were almost instantly turning to Elias, brushing off the contact like nothing had just occurred. Brock felt his hand go to touch the area you’d bumped into, holding onto his bicep with wonder.

When had Elias dropped his hand?

He sucked in a breath, needing the oxygen in his head before he lost it completely. Before he could overthink it, he tilted his head in your direction, the action drawing you from where you’d been lightly conversing with Elias again (since when were you two such good friends?), “I…” He started, suddenly faltering when Elias sent him a sharp look – one so severe that Brock felt Quinn tune back in, “I had a really good time tonight.”

It wasn’t really the time or the place. Not with all the people and not with so little time.

Something seemed to fall on your face, and Brock hated that it was because of him. He hated himself because of it. The way you immediately fixed it – a small falter in character for the sake of everyone else, and you went back to pretending.

“Good, I’m glad.” You nodded, forcing a smile, and he echoed the sentiment.

He felt it drop, though, his face almost morphing into a sorry frown, if that was even a thing. 

“I’ll talk to you later.” He winced at himself, feeling Quinn begin to pull him towards the door this time, Elias quickly jumping in to save the situation and what little confidence Brock had in his social skills. 

It was only when all three of them had made it outside, drowned in complete silence the entire way down the steps to the door of the building, that Quinn bit the bullet, “What was that car crash I just witnessed back there?” He laughed in disbelief, looking between Brock and Elias for an answer.

Brock’s chest was aching too much to reply, so Elias took the liberty of explaining it, a small smile on his face, “That was the beginning of Brock and—”

Quinn’s brows shot up his forehead, almost going missing under his hair, “Shut the front door.” His jaw dropped, turning to Brock for confirmation.

All he got was a tight-lipped line that resembled more of a grimace.

“I mean, I’m happy for you, man, and because I’m your friend, I feel like it’s my responsibility to also point out the fact that she just broke up with her boyfriend of two years.” Quinn seemed rather uncomfortable at throwing the reminder out there into the open, cringing when Brock seemed to glance at the floor, eyes glazed over, “Is she ready for that?”

Brock swallowed, looking to Elias for guidance. Every word Quinn said was true. And when the words were spoken out loud, the entire thing suddenly seemed futile. 

What was he thinking? A person didn’t just get over something like that immediately–Except…

“Actually she broke up with Noah two months ago.” Elias muttered, “Because of Brock.”

Quinn stopped walking, causing the blondes to halt, the three of them crowing the pavement, “Oh.” He breathed, “Shit.”

Elias threw a concerned glance towards Brock at his silence. It never did him good if he was living in his own head, “Noah also proposed and she said no.”

“Double-shit.” 

“Yeah.” Brock answered numbly, head twisting back to your apartment building.

They hadn’t walked far, barely one block, but he could see the window to your apartment, your shadowy figure walking past the window. He inhaled, the exhale fogging up the air around him.

He didn’t have to be looking at Elias and Quinn to know they were sharing similar glances, and he turned back to them, catching their sombre looks red-handed. He shook his head, sighing. He took a step forward, intending to continue their walk to the Uber spot, but something hit him in the chest. It was a gloved hand, and he followed the owner to Elias.

“Yeah?” He asked cautiously.

“You forgot your scarf.” Elias said.

Brock frowned. He didn’t think he’d come wearing a sca–Oh.

He looked to Quinn, who was smiling secretively, and upon noticing his eyes on him nodded his head in the direction of your building.

Brock nodded, turning to Elias once more, “Yeah, I did. You guys don’t have to wait for me, I can get back by myself.”

“Yeah, we know.” Quinn smirked, before gasping as Elias delivered a swift, calculated blow to his diaphragm, knocking the air out of his lungs, and muttering a quiet ‘shut the fuck up’ under his breath as he did so.

Brock ignored them both, already starting the quick walk back up to you, though when he knew he was out of sight from his friends, his brisk walk turned to a hurried run, using the railing on the stairs to launch him up further. By the time reached your door he was breathing heavily, hands a little clammy. 

He took a couple of breaths, running his hands through his hair before knocking on your door.

You were mid-way through clearing the glasses from the coffee table when there was a knock at your door. You stopped where you were, quickly reaching to pause the episode of Gilmore Girls – you weren’t expecting anyone else, and no one had left anything behind.

It could be a neighbour, but they knew to announce themselves–

“It’s Brock.” 

His voice filtered through the door, and the glasses in your hand momentarily slipped, your heart pounding. You threw a cautious glance to the clock above the door: it had barely been five minutes since he left, and honestly, you weren’t even expecting him to ‘talk to you later’. You’d told yourself not to get your hopes up, but either way he’d changed his mind.

This was sooner rather than later – and you were far from prepared. In fact, you were pretty exhausted.

But it was Brock.

You walked over to the door, peering through the peephole to see Brock with pink cheeks and a slightly heaving chest; coat unbuttoned as he put his hands on his hips. His face was tilted away from the door, giving you a full view of his side-profile as his teeth grazed his bottom lip anxiously. 

You stifled a smile, not wasting a second before opening the door, one hand still clutching a  few glasses by their stems. His head snapped to you as you opened the door, a relieved smile automatically making its way onto his face. 

“Sorry, um, I just needed to talk to you.” Brock started, looking at you but clearly struggling with his words. His eyes were bouncing from you to things behind you, nerves eating at him, and you smiled – to ease his mind.

“Sooner rather than later?” You stepped to the side, allowing him to step over the threshold and into your toasty apartment, though with the way he immediately shedded his coat again, he was clearly a little too hot.

But he nodded anyway, draping his coat across the back of the sofa, “I hope that’s okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, “I’m just gonna put these in the kitchen first, do you want anything to drink?”

“No thanks, not right now.” He muttered, and you nodded, moving into the kitchen and placing the glasses by the sink, before turning around only to see Brock walk into the kitchen carrying bowls and even more glasses and placing them by the sink.

He rolled his sleeves up his forearms, and you could only stare in disbelief as he made himself at home, wandering back into the font room and rearranging the cushions around him, twisting back to you with an impatient look on his face.

“Sorry.” You muttered, making your way back to the sofa and sitting an appropriate distance away from  him. 

The TV was still on, and a few of the candles you’d set up earlier were beginning to fade and flicker, the lighting somewhat romantic. But it was cosy, and you pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa across your lap, offering the other half to Brock, who shook his head.

“I ran up the stairs, so I’m warm enough.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “But thanks.”

You nodded, not sure what else to say.

It was very rare that either of you didn’t know what to say; awkwardness was never really a term you used to describe your relationship with Brock – it was always pretty natural. There were silences, but only the kind where nothing had to be said. So this was uncharted territory in more ways than one.

You inhaled, biting the bullet, “So, where should I start?”

Brock looked at his lap briefly, picking off a scrap of lint, “’Why didn’t you tell me you guys broke up?”

You tilted your head at him, “Noah was still hanging around for a while, and he said some stuff about you, us, that, had you been there, would have just made the situation worse. If I told you, you’d have probably come over–”

“Yeah.” He pulled a face, “‘Course I would. I wouldn’t have wanted you to be by yourself.”

“I wasn’t. I had Lauren.”

“You could have had me.” He muttered, eyes devastated – not for him, but for you. He didn’t want you to have had to go through it alone, and it killed him that you refused yourself of that extra support, “I would never have tried anything–”

“I know that.”

“I wouldn’t have provoked Noah – I never did, by the way, he just had a random need to…” he stuttered, “The guy had it out for me and I never even did anything.” He sighed, jaw clenching in frustration.

You nodded.

Noah had had it out for Brock; he hadn’t initially, it was something that had developed the longer you’d been together, and it had slowly ended up getting worse. Worse in that you felt like you couldn’t even look at Brock if he was in the room without causing an argument between you and Noah, and that was draining.

But not entirely Noah’s fault, either.

“It wasn’t random.” You confessed, closing your eyes and briefly touching your temple to ease the brewing headache at the conversation. It was the dredging up of little issues that you’d caused, intentionally or not, that it all accumulated to. They weren’t the sole reason for the end, though. 

Brock went quiet, gaze locked on you, chest steadily rising and falling with each breath. You were finding it hard to actually look at him, the pressure of the entire situation beginning to creep upon you.

“What?” He breathed delicately, as though he was afraid he’d misheard you.

You felt like rolling your eyes, but you kept it to yourself, “I told you Noah said some stuff, right?” He nodded, rather breathless, “He said that I’d been leading him on for a while because in the end, it wasn’t him that I wanted to see when I walked through the door. I think it was partly my fault; when we first started going out, he asked about you – something about the way you looked at me – and I told him that we always seemed to miss each other, that you were my ‘what if’, or whatever, but that it didn’t matter because it was him I was dating. That’s why he seemed to have it out for you, because you didn’t have your own girlfriend to ‘distract you’ as he so kindly put it. He thought that if you were single, and still hanging around, that somehow I’d just end up losing interest in him because I really just wanted you.”

He seemed to digest your words a little, and with each second that passed, you felt yourself become more restless, eager for him to say something to kill the little voice in your head telling you that you’d just got it all wrong.

“I mean, in a way, he was right.” You huffed, eyes a little watery but not threatening to turn into tears.

Still silence.

“Okay, so he was right about me, then.” You pulled the blanket further up your lap, refusing to look at him. If you did, you were scared that the watery eyes would turn into the full waterworks, because, as much as you’d initially tried to deny it when you were with Noah, you had always wondered about what would have happened with you and Brock, if anything at all.

He was an easy person to love, and he made you feel important. You’d just started to have a more serious soft spot for him as the years had gone on, but you’d kept out of even stepping there because when you seemed to be single, he’d be in a relationship, and he always seemed happy. 

Who were you to ruin that for him?

“He was right about me too.” 

You swore if you’d have moved even a little faster that you’d have ended up with whiplash with the speed you turned to look at him. You’d imagined this, but it had never seemed realistic.

He seemed unfazed by the way you maintained a neutral disposition, wanting to keep your guard up just in case he said something else.

“Do you remember when we met?” He asked, hesitant, a little timid, but soft nonetheless.

You found yourself nodding, “Elias’s party three years ago.”

“We talked for about an hour, until I got a call from my manager, and when I came back in, you were talking to someone else.” He sniffed, red colouring the tips of his ears as he started to tap the cushion rhythmically, “You looked so happy I didn’t dare to interrupt. What I’m trying to say is that since I got to know you, I’ve been trying to find someone who makes me feel half the things that you make me feel all day, everyday, and even on the days I don’t see you, and I haven’t come close.” He took a breath, the look he fixed you with next stealing the air from your lungs, “I’ve tried telling myself that she was perfect, that I really must be happy…but it doesn’t change anything when the root of the problem is that she’s just not you.”

You shut your mouth, not quite remembering when you jaw dropped, and just looked at him. The way that, even after all you’d said, he still looked a little worried about it all; the way a few strands of his hair had flopped in front of his eyes, but he didn’t seem to care, because you were his centre of attention. The way he was trying to smile at you, but his chin seemed to wobble with doubt. “There’s no one like you, not for me. I haven’t been able to even stomach anyone else since I broke up with her, and you were why I broke up with her. And I swear to God, when I left for New York and you came to say goodbye, I thought you were going to kiss me.”

“I was.” You admitted, unable to help the way your bottom lip wobbled.

He nodded sadly.

“But you’d just broken up with her and I hated the idea of being a rebound.” It was your turn to sniffle, “And then when you came back, you never even brought it up. I took it as you not wanting that with me, and then…” You trailed off.

The story finished itself, really. Then Noah came around. Shook some shit up.

“I didn’t bring it up because it felt wrong talking about it over the phone. I tried texting you, but nothing felt right, and then when we did see each other, someone always interrupted. Then Noah showed up and stuck around.” 

“I don’t regret Noah,” you murmured, Brock catching your eye as he shook his head in agreement, “I really did love him, I just don’t think it was enough for me in the end, and I’m so pissed at myself that it took two years to realise it.”

Brock’s fingers itched to touch you, to release the bottom lip you’d caught between your teeth, to smooth the crease on your forehead. But now wasn’t the time.

His head rang with Elias’s earlier words, “It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault.” He sighed, still fighting to repress the urge to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. He knew what he wanted to say, but the last thing he wanted was to either rub it in your face or have you thinking the wrong thing, “Some people are meant for each other at different points in their life, depending on circumstances or who they are at that time. People change, no one can help that.”

“What about the other people?”

“What do you mean?”

“The other people that change but don’t break up?”

“I think you just answered your own question.”

You sighed, frustrated, “What decides that, though?”

Brock was quiet, mind ticking, “I think if you love someone enough, that even if they do change, it won’t matter. I like to think you adapt to love the changed parts of them, otherwise what would be the point of loving someone?” 

“That’s nice.” You admitted, feeling mildly comforted by his words. They felt sort of like a promise of sorts.

“Can I ask you a question?” Brock asked after a moment's silence. 

You nodded, taking in the timid expression on his face as he ran a hand through his hair, combing back the loose strands. You hadn’t noticed it earlier, but there was a bracelet on his wrist, almost like a knotted piece of tape.

You swallowed, heart pounding. It looked very familiar — almost exactly like the same piece of tape you’d given him ages ago because he felt like he was missing out on a good luck charm.

“If I hadn’t been in the picture, would you still be with Noah?” 

If Brock hadn’t been in the picture…that thought wasn’t a particularly comforting one. In fact, a life without Brock, even in the outskirts, sounded pretty miserable in your opinion. 

However, in regards to his question, the answer was pretty obvious.

“Probably. Maybe, it’s hard to say.” 

His face seemed to fall at that admission, “Sorry.”

You shook your head, smiling softly, “Don’t be, I prefer it. If anything, I think it says that I’d have settled for someone that makes me feel less than what I feel for you, and the idea of that is pretty dull.”

The corners of his mouth lifted, “Pretty dull?”

You shrugged, “At least pretty dull.”

“What now, then?” 

You swallowed, heart hammering wildly against your sternum at the suggestion in his words. You hadn’t ever really expected you’d get this far with Brock – ever. The endless missed opportunities or bad timings felt like an accumulation of signs not to give into your feelings for him, not a ‘bide your time’ kind of thing.

“I need some time before…”

Brock nodded, smiling like he’d expected your answer. In fact, knowing the kind of person he was, it wouldn’t have been a shock at all if he’d even anticipated it.

“That’s fine by me. I’ve waited three years, I can wait a little longer.” He joked, and this time you noticed the way his hand seemed to jump towards you, before he clenched his fist, folding it under his arm to quell the urge, “I do mean it, though. Take all the time you want, I’ll keep my distance–”

The overwhelming surge of panic that seemed to just crash over you at his promise of distance seemed to come over you quickly. You’d just got him in arm’s distance, and now he was about to leave you alone?

“Hopefully not too far.” You interjected, “I mean, I broke up with Noah two months ago, I’ve already had a lot of thinking time.” And at the insensitive bluntness of your hurried words, you added, “I just need to…close that chapter.”

He nodded, jaw clenching as he fought an excited smile. And, almost to distract you both, he turned to point at the TV, “Do you want to press play?”

[piratefishmama]

Forgiven Not Forgotten | Part 2

Out of the estimated 10 to 15,000 people in Hawkins Indiana, several hundred left just after the earthquake, a handful of families left during the serial killings to protect their families, and the rest?

Those remaining amounted up to about three hospitals worth. Four maximum. Whatever terrors had wrought through Hawkins during those two years of radio silence… had decimated the population.

So when the Harringtons got the call, when Steve’s croaky voice filled that speaker, and told them exactly where he was, which hospital they’d been taken to, they hadn’t wasted a single second, they jumped into the car, and broke several speed laws to get there.

The sight that greeted them on the other side of those double doors would be forever seared into their minds.

Families they’d known, broken, missing members neither Lynda or John wanted to assume about, were they alive, being treated in one of the rooms, or were they lost, neither wanted to know, so they pushed through, eyes roaming those waiting to be seen or waiting for news on friends and family until someone familiar appeared.

Lynda spotted her first, her legs pulled up on the chair, arms tucked around her knees, surrounded by a small hoard of younger teens, all supporting various non-life threatening injuries and scars they probably didn’t want to speak about.

It was like they’d come from a warzone, clothes torn, patched up by rags tied in places to cover skin, dirty skin, hair matted, clinging to each other, haunted. Nothing life threatening, it looked like they were all just… waiting.

Waiting for people who knew them to turn up for them.

“Robin!!” Lynda gasped, loud enough to catch the girls attention, her head snapping up, eyes wide as the parents rushed forward, Robin rose to her feet, stumbled almost just in time to be gathered up into Lynda’s arms, much to her surprise. She didn’t fight it though, no… instead she melted into it, as though it was the first physical contact she’d had that didn’t involve fighting for her life in two whole years. “Where—where are your parents, Robin?”

“T-They… I don’t know, they got out… I think… but I—I haven’t seen them, I think people are still learning that they can come back, if they even want to come back, I mean… there isn’t much left back there for anyone to come back to—Steve! Steve you want—you want Steve right?” The other kids seemed to have perked up, watching the interaction in confusion.

“Where is he, Robin?” Robin looked to John, her gaze a mixture of uncertainty and hesitance. “Please… we know he’s here, he called us, sounded—”

“He’s been in and out, worlds best babysitter took a beating from something… big, protecting these idiots.” They hadn’t been made to sign anything yet, but it was hard to explain what exactly had come for them in the end without sounding like she should be in a hug me jacket getting thrown into a rubber room. “C’mon, I’ll take you to him.”

“Robin? Who’s—” one of the kids started to rise from his seat, or… not a kid, probably closer to a young adult at that point, forced to grow up far too quickly.

“Steve’s parents.”

“Holy shit, they exist?” Both parents cast similar frowns in the boys direction for that little quip “—sorry It’s just… I’ve known him for years and never met you, doesn’t even—”

“That’s enough Dustin” Robin cut him off, sharply but not unkindly. “You don’t know everything, just drop it. C’mon, this way.” She seemed to be walking on a limp, but she was walking, leading them down a corridor until she made it to a door left slightly ajar, the one opposite it flanked on either side by a pair of soldiers. The Harringtons assumed she’d be leading them to the other. But no. She stopped outside of the one closed too and looked at the pair like they’d personally offended her.

They didn’t even try and stop her when she grabbed the handle, instead stepping a little further apart to allow her and her guests to enter with her, John closed the door behind him.

The room was quiet, mostly, save for a radio playing quietly by the window, a genre that no-one would ever assume could be played quietly, and the steady beep of life saving machines. It wasn’t a large room, only big enough for a single bed, the machines, some room to walk around, and a couple of chairs, private, but it housed two people anyway. One on the bed, hooked up to all those machines, skin pale, scarred, his hair long and messy in a way Lynda would probably guess he’d had curls at one point.

Not anymore, it was just a matted mess by that point, one of his hands resting in the linens, handcuffs on his wrist linking him to the bed, the other wrapped in someone else’s grip.

That someone else… the other—

“Steven?” His head snapped up at his father’s voice, hand swiftly withdrawing from the man’s in the bed, his hair had been cut short, possibly to the scalp for convenience, the lengths seemingly only just growing back, he had scars around his neck from what looked like barbs, scars down his arms, both old and new, bruising, treated injuries that'd likely looked way worse when he was admitted.

another round of injuries his parents figured he'd struggle to tell them about.

He rose to his feet, he looked… thin beneath the hospital garbs they’d put him in. Thinner than he should have been, he’d always been broad but now… it was as though he hadn’t had a decent meal in two years. Likely living off of whatever they could scrounge together.

“Stevie, my baby…” Lynda’s voice sounded more like a pained whine, but it was the only warning Steve got before his mother lurched forward and wrapped him up in a fierce hug, adjusting only when her son winced and hissed in pain “you—you were s-supposed to—you were supposed to call to—to contact us, you—”

“I know… I know I—we got cut off, that call, it was the last one any of us could make, those bastards cut us off when they realised it wasn’t gonna be like the times before.” It wasn’t going to be a quick one and done. That the thing they were dealing with was much bigger than just one evil.

It was a whole hoard of evil. Not just Henry. Henry had back up in the form of a gigantic evil cloud, monsters of all shapes and sizes, and an arsenal of loved ones to use as his own personal puppets to terrorize and destroy the people left behind. Eddie being the only one actually there.

“The times before?” John’s voice had his son looking up from the hug his mother had trapped him in. His eyes seemed to dip “Steven… please…”

Steve shook his head, he couldn’t, not there anyway. “I’m fine though,” he’d change the subject instead, a regular instance in the Harrington household, hide the truth and mask it with an “I‘m fine” “bit banged up, but I’ll live…” he released the hold on his mother, even if she didn’t want to let go just yet.

“Who’s this…?” And they let it happen. Every time they let it happen, let the subject go, let it switch to something new, John would allow it for now, but… once out of there, once the dust settled, they’d be having that talk. For now, he was okay with letting the subject change. Aiming it instead at the elephant in the room.

The unconscious man in the bed his son had been holding onto moments ago. That ember, that tiny spark in his son, perhaps… perhaps it was still there.

“Eddie… he uh… he helped, at the end… he—we wouldn’t be alive without him… we thought—we thought he was dead for months but… he wasn’t.” Another touchy subject, but at least that one his son was willing to talk about.

“The handcuffs?”

“Police still think he killed a bunch of kids before the earthquake, the handcuffs are a ‘precaution’ apparently, as if he’s going anywhere.” The serial killer. Eddie Munson. Lynda’s head snapped to the man, eyes wide “he didn’t!” Steve was quick to assure her “It looked bad, it did, it looked like he did it, but he didn’t, he wouldn’t he—he’s good… he’s good. He saved us.”

“Saved you? How?”

“It’s hard to explain…”

Robin on the other hand, didn’t care quite as much as their son did when it came to hiding the facts. “Evil guy, Henry Creel, actual culprit in the Creel murders of ’59 and actual serial killer, we thought Eddie died before the earthquake cause he basically got ate alive by a bunch of evil bats, but Henry was using him as a henchman of sorts, kept him alive to use against us cause we all felt guilty over it which… y’know, fair, he didn’t have to stay involved but he did, and he got ate of course, we felt guilty. I dunno how, but he snapped out of it at like… the last minute, and bought us enough time to take him down, now he’s just…” she motioned to the bed, the steady beep of the monitor going off rhythmically. “We got him out this time though.”

“…What?” Both Harringtons asked in unison.

“Robin” Steve hissed.

“What? Jeez, they haven’t made us sign anything yet.”

“…Sign something? What do you mean sign something?” Lynda looked between them, the two young adults clearly exhausted. “Steven? What have you signed?”

“NDA’s mom, each time, they’ve forced us to sign these Non-Disclosur—”

“Who?”

“Y’know… the government?”

There was something distinctly satisfying about watching a 5’4" woman demolishing a government agent. Something almost the entirety of the Party managed to witness when someone from said government finally decided to grace them with their presence to sign those pretty shut your mouth documents they were so fond of dolling out.

John Harrington watched with what could only be described as a dopey grin on his face as he leaned in to whoever was closest, this being one very tired Mike Wheeler, to say “You know she majored in Contract Law back in the day? Minor in Ethics too. God look at her go.” Totally and completely smitten over his own wife’s rage.

Apparently forcing minors to sign NDA’s, while technically legal for them to scribble on the dotted line, couldn’t actually be held up anywhere in court due to age and how dare they force children, not just her OWN but other children to sign that shit without a parent or legal guardian present.

It ended with her loudly declaring that “NOBODY in this hallway will be signing your goddamn papers, and as for the previous ones? You’ll be hearing from our lawyers.” Then, on her heel she turned, and returned to the group, leaving a stunned government agent floundering in the hallway having clearly expected an easy ride. “Everyone, get your things, you’re coming home with us.” Too revved up to stop just yet.

“Excuse me, why would we go with you? Ain’t you ever heard of stranger danger, ma’am?”

“Erica Sinclair, I held you when you were just 3 months old and I bought you and your brother your first strollers, now get your backside out to that car this instant.” Erica shut up, momentarily subdued, but she did have to wonder when exactly her parents had met the Harringtons, later, questions for later. Maybe when she and her brother found their parents. “We have a house with two bathrooms and enough food to feed an army, let’s go.” Not quite the six bathroom four bedroom estate they’d had in Hawkins but…

They weren’t going back there. Nobody was going back there.

The modest two bed close by would do as home base for now, even if it wasn’t quite big enough to hold everyone, they’d make do. John stepped forward to add, “we have a working phone too, get you in touch with the people you need to be in touch with, and we’ll let the front desk know to inform anyone who comes looking where you’ve gone. It’ll be okay, let’s get you out of here and cleaned up.”

“Mom… I’m not leaving Eddie, we’re not… not again, he’s—he’s all on his own I—I can’t.”

“Honey…” Lynda started, but… that little boy they’d long since watched withdraw into himself, he was just… there, for the briefest of moments, showing himself, his emotions, raw, and tired, but it was enough, her son was in there, clawing back to the surface, she wasn’t about to ruin it now. “How about we go home, we get you all cleaned up, get you something to eat, and then we come back and figure out what to do about Eddie, how’s that sound?”

“We have plenty of world class lawyers on our side, Son, we’ll get him out of here in no time, just… let’s get you cleaned up first, Okay? The house is only half an hour away.” Close, they’d be close, the hesitation on all of their faces though, this poor boy, whoever he was… they all hesitated to leave him, there was a lot of love in that hallway, each one as determined as the last to stay with their friend.

“…Alright shitheads, to the car.” Not a single one of those kids argued, Steve was in charge, but Mike and Lucas both hung back.

“I’m gonna stay with the Byers, Nance, Holly, and my mom are with them so—”

“An I’m gonna stick with Max until her mom gets here.” Doctors said she could wake up at any time after her brain activity kicked back up when the dust settled… when Henry died. He wanted to be there when she did. “I’ll be fine though, promise.”

And when Lynda stepped forward to hand Mike a little card with a number scribbled on it, saying “This is our home number, If anything changes with your friend, Eddie while we’re gone, call us, okay? We’ll be right back here in a flash.” She caught the faint smile on her sons face in her peripheral vision.

Baby steps.

Part 4

[sopiao]

hey!! i love your writing so so much oh my god. your account is just perfect– if it's not too luch to ask (and forgive me if this is a little long) can i request headcanons with taskforce 141 + masc reader???

reader's kind of distant from the rest of the task force. they all get along with him just fine, does what he's asked to do on missions and all that, but he just feels kind of... absent. nobody really gets what his deal is, but they've gotten used to him. (BONUS POINTS IF HE ALSO WEARS A MADK HE DOESNT TAKE OFF THAT OFTEN... i wanna be cool too </3)

one day he wakes them up, and (to their surprise) tells them that he had a nightmare. this is the softest his voice has ever been and the most he's ever opened up– just. fluff and comfort lolz :p

FIRST TIME WITH FLUFF OR COMFORT!!!

i’ve always had a hard time writing this kind of stuff but i’m cleaning out my inbox so.. ^^

SORRRYYY IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS >3<

it sorta implies angst?? like the nightmare is something serious of an issue?? idk

(Callsign will be Anon to make it easier for me ☹️)

Anon has always been distant, keeping some space and never really contributing to any of the conversations x But they still treasure him just as much as each other. They understand that some people just have a hard time with stuff like that or just don’t wanna get into it in general.

Soap and Ghost always makes constant visual checks to see if he’s still part of the group, since he’s always quite as a mouse it’s hard to keep track of him. Price would make sure to save a seat for him whenever he’s a little late. And Gaz would always check up on you from time to time.

They make sure you felt part of the team. Just because Anon doesn’t really have a deep connection with any of them doesn’t make him any less one of them.

—

In the middle of a mission they all had to sleep in a safe house for the night. A rather small one since they had to share a room together. Sleeping bags all lined up across the room. One soldier found it hard to get at least a wink of sleep. Price’s and Soap’s loud and grumbling snoring didn’t really disturb them since it was practically white noise to him now.

After half an hour Anon finally found the ability to be carried into rest. It was peaceful for a while. Until he woke up violently, body twitched when he woke up from how intense it was. He found that it was hard to keep his breathing under control and try to focus on one thing. Physically and emotionally.

He put this off as a last resort and tried everything to calm himself down. But when all else failed he turned to Ghost beside him. Reaching for his mask and hastily pulling his mask over his head, hesitating before bringing his hand up to shake Ghost awake, he’s a light sleeper anyway.

“What? What happened?” After a second to comprehend what was happening he sat up and looked around, thinking something happened, like someone broke in or someone found them. But once he saw his comrade’s, somewhat, relaxed but worried eyes and stopped.

Sitting up fully and comfortably, he asked if everything was alright. Judging by his lack of response Ghost nodded, immediately understanding and not making a big deal out of it since this is way out of his comfort zone.

“Go on.” He nodded his head, sitting next to him and relaxing against the wall, still half asleep but still willing, very willing, to listen and comfort if needed. Ghost listened intently as Anon began to explain and mumble out what happened in his sleep.

“Uhm.. Fuck— Now that I’m thinking about this, it sounds stupid—” Looking down and fiddling with the edge of his sleeping bag Anon’s interrupted by Ghost.

“Just tell me. You’ve already got me up” He’s probably not the best one for comfort, but he knows he’s trying, not the best with his words, but he’s willing to listen.

It stuns him for a second with his bluntness, but chuckles lightly, knowing that he really does wanna listen. He starts to explain, second guessing himself every couple sentences, but slowly he gets more comfortable with sharing.

Halfway through Soap starts to stir and move in his sleep, making both stop and just stare. Turning around to see both sleeping bags empty, Soap immediately sits up and searches for them, only to see them off the side, sitting together.

“Oh.. shit..” He calms himself down, both Ghost and Anon look at each other before looking back at Soap. He slowly sits up and crawls over to where they are, next to Anon so he’s between Ghost and Soap.

“What’re you two doin’ up?” Somehow his accent is deeper when he’s half-awake. Slouching back against the wall, almost leaning on Anon’s shoulder.

“I couldn’t sleep after.. a.. uhhh… nightmare” Anon was hesitant to explain, wondering if waking up his friends were really worth it, hoping that they wouldn’t make fun of him. Soap just hums in response.

“Nightmare? Al’right. Continue” To Anon’s surprise, Soap wants in too. He looks back to Ghost who just shrugs and nods, silently telling you that it’s up to him whether he wants to share or not.

Before Anon can even start again, both Price and Gaz wake up, both confused as fuck, but following along, dragging their sleeping bags over to him. They were all now wide awake, Price laying back in his sleeping bag, arms crossed, half-awake but still lucid enough to understand stuff coherently.

Anon started to explain again, relaxed to see how supportive his teammates are with how little they really know about him. Once he got to a certain part of the nightmare, the part that really made it a nightmare, his lungs felt tight once again.

Suddenly his mask felt so thick and concrete, he had to lift it up to his nose to breathe. Blubbering out apologies between breathes as they tried not to stare too much.

“Nah, nah. You’re fine” Ghost reassured him through his mutters, rubbing his back to try and soothe him. It didn’t, but it was something. Something that they were there to listen.

“Don’t force yourself if you don’t wanna tell” Gaz nodded, not wanting to force Anon to go too much out of his comfort zone, in the chance that he changed his mind and wasn’t okay with sharing this kind of stuff.

“I’m fine.. fine” Anon nodded his head, realizing how much of his face he exposed and tried to cover it up with his hands so he can still breath. But for those couple seconds that his lower half of his face was open. A large, old, scar decorated his lips, diagonally going from the top right to bottom left, almost reaching his chin.

With something so unexpected being exposed, the fact that Anon even reached out, it made them all alert to watch out for his emotions and how he’s feeling. But what was most surprising for them, was how he talked. It was usually so stern and short, always getting straight to the point. Almost robot like. But now, it’s softer, more warm but sorta confused, he fumbled in his words a little but it was just so different than how he is out on the base.

An hour has passed, but now that all of that is out of Anon’s head, and everything, almost everything, was off his chest, the sleepiness started to catch up to him. In the midst of Ghost explaining how he was feeling and the possible reason for it, Anon was already asleep, snoring softly as he struggled to keep up.

They knew that this was something you’d never do. So it was a sort of shock for him to break his blocked off demeanor. But it made them feel good that Anon even considered venting. Even if it was something small like a complaint or something annoying, they wanted him ti let it out.

(this has been in my drafts for forever T-T)

[dev1lm4n]

polaroid

pairings: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel made sure the eight shots he took from his polaroid 600 were the best.

word count: 4.4k (istg this is not as long as you'd expect)

warnings: explicit (18+), p in v, no protection, kinda manipulative, joel's old age is emphasized hehe ;)

notes: this is super foul i had to take a break writing it lol. anyways, send me a req or chat me up pls i swear i'm friendly.

10:30 PM

Every ticking noise that damned clock made managed to hammer itself into your subconscious mind. It’s taunting you endlessly, reminding you of the fact that Joel Miller once again broke his promise. You’re aware that it’s a cycle, but you couldn’t help relent the last time around. He was begging on his knees, telling you how much you meant to him, and that it was an honest mistake. He then made another promise. One that you had faith in. Turns out he’s still too mouthy for his own good.

His lies were not good for you. It was dreadful.

Every sense of yours was heightened. You felt the significant need to move without end; if your limbs were moving then perhaps you could continue to burrow that crawling sensation in your stomach, or at least you could ignore it a while. First, it was chewing on the plush skin around your finger tips. It helped satiate your crowded head for a second or two. But then the questions came around without warning.

Had he been in an accident? Was he hurt somewhere, unable to call for help? 

The thought of him lying somewhere injured and alone made you feel sick to the stomach. Pictures of terror flooded your head; all the carcasses and tangy blood. All the rot and rats. You were spiraling in a downward motion. It was only in moments like these that you knew it was still there, the fear, coursing through your veins as if it hitched a ride on your hemoglobin. You needed an immediate distraction. A way to rid yourself of the tumultuous mess in your head, which might just be the small nook of Joel’s things.

You took a leap out of bed, flinching as you’re instantly greeted by the bitterly cold floor boards. It took all of your emotional strength to reach that particular corner and all of your physical strength to pick up the one item that reminded you of Joel; his polaroid 600. The black object gave a light sheen as you cradled it between your gentle fingers.

“I’m home.”

His gruff voice put you at ease. The sigh that escaped your dry lips was slow, as if your brain needed that time to process what had happened, to recollect the marbles you’ve dropped all over the floor. You needed to reset your emotions or else it’ll come faltering down like a broken dam. It’s pathetic how you’re already on the brink of weeping; tears pricked the edge of your vision, that sweet part of your lips tucked under your blunt canines. 

You were soft when it came to him. He was your sole purpose - the only reason you’re still breathing in new air.

Joel’s footsteps sounded familiar. You remembered the rhythm and the weight to it, the click-clack against the wooden floor. But tonight it sounded a little hesitant - a slight drag to the way he moved - which was probably caused by your failure to respond. Here in Jackson people strived to return to a certain degree of normalcy, but everyone knew deep inside that the fear lingers. Neither you nor Joel could ever get rid of the constant fear of carnage, of arriving home to nothing but a corpse.

A defined thud resonated around the room. You looked over your shoulder in response, meeting Joel’s large build crowding the bedroom’s entrance. He looked just as you expected. Revolver in hand, crow’s feet emphasized in worry, tired eyes trained on you; you’d have considered the gesture a little grand if you didn’t know Joel and what he’s been through. But you knew him. Through and through. So you settled on a tight-lipped smile.

“Sweetheart.. you didn’t answer.”

Joel let out a hoarse sigh as he lowered his weapon in haste. You weren’t afraid of his little machinery, but he always hated having it in his hands when you’re around. He told you it made him remember all the blood he’s spoiled and he wouldn’t want that kind of thought being associated with his pretty angel. Joel was corny, that’s for sure.

His shoulders sagged dramatically. He muttered something to himself, perhaps thanking whatever entity out there for keeping you safe while he’s away.

“You’re late. Again.”

Joel was a liar every now and then, but he wasn’t a bastard. He wasn’t planning on making up a fucked-up rationale on why it’s permissible for him to break promises with you, nor was he planning to make you feel like you’re over-reacting and hysterical. He was wrong and that’s that. You weren’t looking his way, but he knew for a fact that you were upset. It’s almost a little too obvious from the way your shoulders heave up and down, as if trying to contain your heavy heart.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t have-”

“You’re doing this way too often, Joel. I don’t think I can-”

His boots drummed boisterously as he approached you with much caution. Your ominous tone was making him nervous.

“No.. don’t do this to me, sweetheart. Please. Just hear me out.”

He knew you’d hear him out everytime, even when half of his truths were undeniably stupid at times. 

“I brought you the films. For the polaroid. Remember?”

“You did?”

You turned on your heel at the bribe he’s thrown. Lo and behold, he’s holding what appears to be a thick case of something. You threw out any trace of manners your parents had taught you and reached instantly for the packaging, practically ripping it off his fingers. Joel didn’t complain one bit. It’s as if he’s planned this all out to happen; your anticipation and ultimately, his forgiveness.

It was the size of your palm. A faded sky blue rocked the front covers, while a streak of rainbow decorated the sides. It looked nothing like you’ve seen before and you’re simply elated to hold such a gem between your hands. You ran your fingers down the softened cardboard front, reading along what was written in thick black letters. POLAROID. A perfect match to the tool you’ve been cradling ever since Joel managed to once again miss his curfew. Your lips inevitably curved into a sweet smile. The fatty part of your cheeks lifted in excitement, causing your eyes to turn into pretty crescents Joel adored a whole lot. You’re so easily satiated - it’s embarrassing at times.

“How do you use it. Joel?”

“Oh, sweetheart, let me show you.”

He shuffled towards your left side. His expression straightened back to how it usually is - a little mean and grouchy - as he received the ancient camera back from you. It must’ve been a fresh stock from back in the day considering how untouched the plastic shell seemed to be. Joel remembered that his polaroid back in the day was anything but pretty. Scratched on all sides, a glittery rainbow sticker stuck to the very front (a little reminder of his sweet daughter Sarah), with a flash button that barely worked. He smiled faintly at the memory.

You watched with great concentration as he tore open the cardboard ruthlessly. He’s not one for patience, that’s a fact you learned just now. His thick thumb made its way past the silver packet, then a small grunt slipped past his lips as a sign of victory. Joel popped the film inside the crevice. A whizzing noise surprised you off your feet, which was rewarded by a light chuckle from your side. 

This contraption of his - the polaroid as he called it - threw up a square-shaped plastic along with its almost alien-like whirring noise.

“What’s that?”

“That’s just the protective casing, no need to worry.”

You hummed in response. Curiosity punctured your bubble of worries.

“I’ll show you how to take a picture, yeah?”

As Joel motioned for you to take a step back, he had this.. look on his face. You would’ve guessed that he was actually gazing at you lovingly if it weren’t for the tinge of fear laced across his features. It was the most obvious in his eyes. Deep inside those brown irises was the brutality he’s endured. Down there was where his black dog resided, pushed into a corner but always looming at every given moment. His eyes never sparkled. Not even with you.

You were deep in thought, perched over the edge of his bed. Joel didn’t warn you when he clicked over the shutters. Either he’s too worn out from his ventures out in the wilderness or he’s just too entranced by the sight you’ve proposed to him. It didn’t matter though. What mattered was the fact that you’ve unfortunately closed your eyes at the bright, flaming flash. What mattered was that you just wasted a very valuable film.

“Shit. I think I closed my eyes there.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“But-”

“You look pretty even with your eyes closed, girl.”

Joel picked up the picture and flicked it over to you. You caught it just in time. But you were utterly puzzled by the fact that there wasn’t anything on the square-shaped paper.

“There’s nothing there, Joel.”

Your eyebrows furrowed unsurely. A million thoughts reeling in as you took the picture between your fingers, looking over it under the moonlight filtering through.

“You need ta wait and be patient, pretty.”

You muttered out a foul word, looking all petulant and bratty at his request. Was he fooling you with all his mystical objects? You stared at the picture expectantly. Cautiously as well, as if it’d turn into something otherworldly. It was then that you saw it. How the colors and shapes slowly emerged from the white paper. And there you were, frozen in time, captured forever in that single moment.

An exaggerated gasp escaped your lips.

“See. It works.”

“Yeah, but my eyes are closed. You need to count to three, y’know. That’s the gentlemanly way.”

Joel grumbled, but agreed begrudgingly. He stretched his back like the old man that he was before he settled beside you. The bed creaked an embarrassing noise beneath his weight - you wondered how the two of you hadn’t received a single noise complaint from your neighbors. You could see him clearly now, where the moonlight shone brighter, even when a part of his face was covered by the blunt-edges of the polaroid.

“One.”

His accent was such a playful tune, as if he were the star of his own movie. You could have sat there all day just to listen.

“Two.”

The map of wrinkles on his face told of the most incredible journey. His crow’s feet told of laughter, of warm smiles and affection. His forehead told of worries past and worries present. But mostly they were so deeply ingrained they told of a man who’s been through hell and back. To reduce his glory to a sign of age and incompetence would be disrespectful.

“Three.”

A flash of white blinded you for a second, but this time you made sure to smile with such poise.

Joel flicked the picture in his hand. He looked.. star-struck. As if he’d caught a glimpse of what Aphrodite looked like herself, of what all the good in this world could manifest into, of how unworthy he was to have you sitting here in his bedroom. You were heavenly - the kind that was unheard of after shit hits the fan - and it was good to be reminded once again. He fell into silence.

“Was it not good?”

He shook his head as he placed the polaroid down by his side.

“Why are you-”

His power was overwhelming when he purposefully pushed you back onto the stiff mattress; it seemed that all his rough jobs chopping up woods and tackling infected had done him a huge favor. Even when he’s grazing the silver birthday mark, he’s still as ravenous as ever. You landed along a gentle thud, his large hand managed to cup over the back of your head to keep you safe. Joel always treats you like a frail porcelain piece, even when you’re begging for him to treat you like a rag doll.

Joel’s large arms caged you in on either side. You feel small underneath him and it felt good. It felt like you didn't have to worry about a single thing in his presence. Your nimble fingers grazed over his worn-out flannel that perfectly fits around his large fore-arms. A squeeze here and there to reassure him that you’re okay with this, with him taking charge. You knew just how defenseless he felt these days and you’d like to ease his burden just for a little.

For a moment, all you could hear was his ragged breathing and all you could see was his darkened gaze.

“You’re so perfect.”

He purred lovingly as he leaned in close. His pointed nose brushed against the lobe of your ears, while his stubble tickled that sensitive spot below your jaw. You’ve always loved the beard-burn from his scarce stubble; it always felt personal, the one thing nobody else could do except for Joel. One touch and it was over. It was always that way with you and him.

His open-mouthed kisses drew a sloppy wet trail down the left side of your neck. He took his time to worship you, granting you those claim marks you’ve always fussed about. A bloom of discoloration here and there. You’ve always told him that it was rather childish, but he didn’t care. You were his art work and this was his creativity taking reins.

There’s something about him that lit you up from the inside and there’s something about you that crushed him. Touching you was like being handed the holy grail, like committing a sacrilegious sin from how faultless you were.

“Stay still.”

He ordered you and you were to comply. 

Joel pulled away ever so slightly to reach for the polaroid that’s abandoned by your side. He gave you a cheeky smile, one that you didn’t think was possible to be sported so confidently by a fifty-something years old. He then lifted the camera to his eye and adjusted the settings, making sure that the exposure and focus were just right. He wanted this picture to be perfect, to capture the essence of those marks he’s crafted like a true artisan.

A flash disrupted your trance once more. Another one of those whirring noises occurred.

You looked at him in disbelief as he put away the polaroid and its creation, giving you his undivided attention once more. Was Joel about to document this entire night like a ballsy teenage boy? You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought. Joel always managed to make things feel juvenile every single time, as if this was your first night tangled up and not the nth time.

“Are you trying to create a sex tape or something?”

“Nah.”

He answered shortly, too busy pawing your tank top off to even give you a proper answer. Joel tugged the thin fabric upwards, giving you a slight tilt of his head to urge you to lift your head and let the tank top slide off. He’s tried the ‘ripping-off’ technique to maintain efficiency before, but he knew he’d be greeted with an earful after you’ve come down from the inebriated daze he’s initiated. Clothes were expensive, that’s what you always say.

If he were to name one part of your body he’s obsessed with, he knew exactly what to say, no matter how shallow it must’ve sounded. They’re just way too pretty. Joel leaned back down, attaching his wet lips to your plush mounds. Throughout the years he’s spent with you, he’s learned your favorites. He’s learned how you’d mewl whenever he’d run your sensitive buds under his calloused fingers. Twisting it cruelly or flicking at it teasingly, he’d marvel at its hardened form every time. Then he’d reattach his lips right on target, suckling on it while listening to your verbal cues. He’d receive a desperate ngh if he wasn’t going the way you wanted him to and a pleased moan of his name if he’s doing fantastic.

“Joel!”

Your squeaked exclamation had him working overtime. His soaked tongue doing laps around your nipples, getting each one all worked-up before he moved on to the sweeter part of this deal. He looked starved doing this and it made your hole twitch.

Once again, Joel leaned back to reach for the damn polaroid, pulling you away from your whimpering frenzy.

“Push your tits together and smile, sweetheart.”

He ordered and you did just that. This time your eyes looked hazy, like you’ve been high on something, but your breasts looked as amazing as always. Nipples perked upwards as a result of his persistent endeavors. Joel looked pleased at the developed picture, scrutinizing every detail as if he’s some acclaimed photographer. He sat back down evenly on the bed. You were left there, smiling loopily and awaiting his next order,

“You want me to take a good shot of you, hm?”

You nodded.

“Sit down, sweetheart, and take off your shorts.”

You pulled yourself up eagerly. Your movements were a little clumsy as you pulled your shorts off, kicking them off once they reached your knee.

“Show me where you need me.”

A taste of doubt pooled in your stomach. He lowered the polaroid slightly, knowing that his encouraging look would ignite back the confidence in your chest. It worked wonders on you everytime and you’re back on track again. You slowly pushed your thighs apart, one at a time to rile him up just the right amount. Your floral patterned panties were still in place as Joel hadn’t quite ordered you to remove them just yet and in this space, you work by his orders. Still, the wet patch was embarrassingly obvious, running down your slit and growing particularly wide atop of your entrance.

He cocked his head to the side. A motion you could only deduct as a heartening push for you to go a step further. You pulled the soft cotton to the side, growing breathless under his cruel stare. The cold night air grazed your clit in a manner that made you writhe; you were sensitive all over and all you wanted to do was beg for him to fill you up already. To have his large hands pin you down and strike your airway, leaving you breathless and asking for forgiveness. But that’s not what good girls do and you know that only good girls deserve to be rewarded.

Apparently exposing yourself to this extent wasn’t enough for Joel as he hasn’t snapped a picture yet. Desperate to please him, you placed your fingers on either side of your outer labia. Lips tucked deep beneath your teeth as you pulled them apart. Only to reveal your throbbing clit and your sweet cunt that’s been twitching at every look he gave you. It’s all sticky too. A webbed substance coating every part vulgarly. Joel chuckled at the sight, making fun of your submission towards him.

The whirring sound occurred again and you were relieved. 

“You want to touch yourself?”

“I want you, Joel, please.”

“That’s not in the question.”

You shivered at his authoritative tone.

“Yes, please.”

Joel nodded permissively. You nodded, doing your best to keep calm under pressure. Pretending he wasn’t there staring you down would be an awfully hard task, but you’re forced to prevail. Your little hole spasmed as you pressed your soft fingers onto your needy clit. You settled on a circular motion, bringing it around your clit then down to gather some natural lubrication from your profusely leaking hole. This motion alone had you chanting his name like a kind of magical mantra.

Your eyes scrunched close, lost in deep pleasure while drowning in embarrassment. It wasn’t enough - that’s for certain - but it was good enough to satisfy the aching pain.

“Put a finger in.”

He recommended and you abide without a saying. Your fingers felt dramatically different than his, they’re a lot stubbier so they wouldn’t be able to reach the good parts, but they’ve become your trusty friend after years of being a lady. Your left hand stayed focused on your clit, while your other hand ventured closer towards your leaking hole. A sharp inhale was what you took before you pushed one finger pass. It went in too easily and just the feeling of being halfway full made you feel euphoric, a hoard of pathetic moans teasing your tongue.

“What a good girl.”

His compliment was accompanied by the now familiar snap of the polaroid, whirring in as per usual to form an image of your vulgar body. Once again, Joel abandoned his treasured property to the side to admire you. Admire his good girl that’s gone by the rules because you know how amazing he’ll treat you when you’re being sweet. Joel was erratic as he unbuckled his belt, doing it with such haste he’s fumbling to pop the buttons open. It made him let out a frustrated grunt that’s easily met with your joyful set of laughter.

“You ain’t gonna get a good fuckin’ if you kept that on.”

His Texas twang shut you up easily. You grinned at him brattily, still stuffing your pussy nice and good as if you can’t stand another minute without something inside of you. He shook his head at the sight. Joel joined in on your playful games when he finally managed to relieve his cock of the fabric prison it’s been kept in. His cock had always been pretty - a pinkish tip with a peachy shaft, always leaking with pearly stickiness up top - yet it seems you’ve forgotten what it looked like up close. After all, it’s been awhile since he took good care of you.

Joel fisted his cock with a tempo you’ve grown familiar with. You’ve witnessed this sight multiple times, yet you’re still bewitched by it everytime. Once he’s satisfied with how sleek he’s turned out to be, he shuffled closer to you. Eyes boring deep within yours with every kind of emotion available to mankind. All mixed up and served as an intoxicating cocktail. He’s trying to tell you something, you knew that, but you’ve never actually figured out what he’s been dying to say. Those thoughts soon turned warp as he fitted himself on your entrance. He ran his shaft up and down over your slit, teasing a reaction out of you.

“Fill me. Put it in- Joel- Joel, please.”

You thrusted your hip upwards with need and that was enough to give him the reassurance he needed. He eased in carefully, knowing that fitting his fat tip was a hard task you never got used to, while his pointer finger rubbed perfect circles on your sensitive nub. A subtle burn caught your throat when he finally bottomed out entirely. He was so girthy it’s hard to situate yourself around him. It even managed to prick a tear out the corner of your eyes.

“Beggin’ me to fuck you good. Teasin’ me like a brat. You’re really somethin’, ain’t ya?”

He rasped in your ear as he inched even closer. His hips snapped just at the right moment and with the perfect altitude to get you trembling. You reached out to hold onto the collar of his flannel. It became your only lifeline as he implored even further, pulling out then immediately filling you up like you’re some sort of pastry. An avalanche tumbling down within your lower abdomen. The pleasure was from another kind of heaven. The kind that could only be brought out by a man who’s dangling in weighty sins.

“Gonna be the end of me.”

To be filled to the very brim made you lose your head. Everything was starting to melt off, your common sense and your previous anger of his audacious lies. It all disappeared at every thrust, every time his lengthy cock disappeared inside your pretty cunt, everything seemed to feel alright. Everything was bright and pristine. He was a good man and so was you. Your eyes flickered, rotating between the sheen appearing on his wrinkled forehead and where his shaft was swallowed by you.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole.”

You knew this was coming. He’s always asking for forgiveness whenever he’s seven inches buried within you. Perhaps that’s exactly what made him an asshole.

“Joel- Just-”

All the words you’ve assigned were scrambled once more when it reached the tip of your tongue.

“I’m sorry for lyin’.”

He whispered out faintly. Was that his version of ‘I love you’? Your hazed mind couldn’t know for certain, but all you knew was that it was sincere from the depth of his heart. You could always tell when he’s being vulnerable and when he’s patching up those brick walls again. He was here right now, in the moment, and entirely euphoric at the way your cunt pulsed around him.

“More, Joel. More!”

“More what?”

“More of your c- cock.”

Joel filled you up so good. It was torture the way he always kept you at bay, but right now all you could think of was how no one could fill you up this way. Even when he’s cruel and distant, even when he occasionally declines your request to remove his clothes and let you see him whole, even when he lies, you are always going to be there. No one could ever fuck you the way he would.

“Where do ya want me, darling?”

He prompted as if you still have the right mind to answer. You were pulsing without end, rocking through the orgasm that’s just edging to come by. 

“Inside. Inside, please, please, please.”

You chanted without end. All throughout your eventful high, thighs jittering and rocking into his every movement as a particularly loud moan echoed around the room. He granted your wishes kindly; injecting you with what he’s been withholding all week, white painting your insides like it was some sort of high-end abstract art. You heaved at the feeling, extremely pleased.

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

He greeted your freshly drugged out mind sweetly. It was then that you hear the last two whirring noises consecutively. One of a close-up shot of your fucked up hole oozing his own dose of cum, and another a pretty shot of your dazed expression. Joel quietly thought that it’d be the perfect accessory for his damn wallet.