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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..

how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)

ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol

have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our Remains

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end

A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.

You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!

But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying.

Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.

Just an overwhelming sense of dread.

The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer.

You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm.

The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant.

In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines.

John’s icon dims.

You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to.

He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.

“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.

God, you loved him so much.

Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you.

He tried to call as often as he could.

John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.

“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down.

You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic.

“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.”

“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?”

“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”

Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.

Jesus, this was actually happening.

You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind.

“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?”

The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work.

Above all, he knew when something was up with you.

“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”

Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”

The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth.

The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.

Back at the house, your face scrunches together.

Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad?

John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears.

“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.”

…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted?

“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”

The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him.

“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”

He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind.

There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with.

John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present.

“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”

“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…”

Your voice quivers.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear.

You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”

John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?”

Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring.

From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts.

You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor.

“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”

John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs.

“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.”

You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin.

“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.

“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”

Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.

“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing.

“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?”

A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation.

“I promise, John.”

“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”

Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.”

The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords.

He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else.

The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences.

Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.

—

John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.

All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips.

It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends.

“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute.

Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later.

John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.

The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.

“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?”

Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?”

The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name.

He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed.

Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click.

But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.

“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms.

His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat.

John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening.

Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh.

He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.

“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.”

You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod.

“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”

Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.”

But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room.

Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…

“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.”

Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight.

You steel yourself and raise the box.

“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair.

He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully.

Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm.

“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead.

You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders.

“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed.

What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….

Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship.

John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!”

Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly.

“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.”

It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it.

Pregnant.

His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly.

Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts.

“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss.

John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold.

“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”

Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again.

“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.”

He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.”

You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.

“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”

“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.”

Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”

His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.

You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.

“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.”

The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second.

“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.”

While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child.

A family that you both had made.

John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.”

Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.”

There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave.

What remains behind, you ask? Simple.

White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.

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igotanidea · 3 months

Text

I am Robin : Damian Wayne x reader (pt 2)

part 1

***

Four months earlier.

She was mindlessly scrolling through her phone, head on Damian’s lap, his fingers threading through her hair. It was one of the very rare gestures of affection coming from him. Rare therefore highly appreciated, especially given the fact that it was mostly happening when they were alone.

It was not her intention to break the moment of peace, but sometimes shit just happens without much input of a human, let alone one’s opinion.

Her sudden gasp, followed by rising from the lying position, eyes widening and mouth falling open in undeniable sign of fear made Damian go into protective mode in an instant.

“Y/N? What happened?” he grabbed her hand and then her cheek, forcing her eyes on him “talk to me. What did you see on that phone?”

“Ba-Ba-“

“Now that’s not very helpful, beloved.”

“Batman…” she finally stuttered

“Fath-“ Damian started but bit his tongue in the middle, having almost spilled the secret of Batman’s true identity “I mean – Batman? What about him?”

“It says here that he captured another criminal…”

“And that’s so bad?”

“No- no, I mean-“

“Love.” Damian sighed and shook his head “I really cannot help you unless you tell me what made you turn into a jelly.”

“I’m scared of him.” She whispered.

“The Bat?” Now, that could turn into a problem, given the fact that she was unknowingly dating the son of Gotham’s self-appointed protector.

“No… Robin…”

“Robin?!” he repeated, with a little more force and surprise than intended and definitely too expressively to make her believe that it wasn’t personal on some level. “What? Why?” his tone immediately softened, turning casual and almost aloof to cover up the initial shock of the news.

“Cause he’s scary.”

“Scary?” Damian echoed, already starting to regret asking in the first place. It was one thing to strike fear into villains, and completely other to make his girlfriend terrified like this. “But- but he protects Gotham with Batman, doesn’t he? Serving justice.”

“Yes, yes I mean – it’s good, but-“

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about on his part. After all, there’s nothing weighing on your conscience is there?” his piercing eyes landed on her face, arguably a little too focused for comfort. “Apologies.” The intense stare got more calm, as he pulled her into his side, running fingers up and down her back soothingly – be it for her or for him. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Robin. He has nothing on me.”

If only she knew.

“Dami…”

“Yes, love?”

“You don’t know everything…”

“What do you mean?” he frowned, trying to read her facial expression.

“I did something bad…”

Now, that could be a problem too, putting his morals into test. If she did something that required punishment, Damian would have to choose between being her boyfriend and the hero he claimed to be. Either becoming a hypocrite or losing her for good.

Not that she actually did anything wrong in the first place.

But for now, he just waited for her to continue, watching the situation unfold.

“About two years ago –“ she started, diving back into the times when they didn’t know each other. “It was very early in the morning, some would say still night… I was at the bakery, cause you know I love freshly baked bread-“ Damian had to bite his lip to not lash on her for giving him so many redundant details instead of just making the point – “when suddenly a group of masked people burst inside.”

“Into the bakery?” he scoffed, mentally calling the robbers fools. “How much did they believe to gain from the bakery attack?”

“Not the point! It was not about the cash in the first place!”

“What is the point then, cause—” the sentence got caught in the middle as Damian remembered the day. He had been patrolling nearby, when gunshots caught his attention. Obviously, not waiting for Batman, he had rushed there, seeing three guys, a terrified girl and the owner of the shop, caught in a very unpleasant situation, involving firearms and an open cash register. The memories of her frightened face swirled in his mind, though he had to play along, pretending like he wasn’t there and had no idea what she was talking about.

“Robin showed up.” She specified, shivering a little.

“But that’s good, right?”

“He was … ruthless. Dealing with those robbers in a few moves, knocking them to the ground. Making them bleed. A little, though my memory might be distorted by time.” She shook her head as if trying to get rid of the picture from the past. “But it was scary. During the fight I almost got shot myself—”

He remembered that too.

Lunging at her and pressing her to the ground, saving her from the ricochet bullet.

In his own belief, he saved her then, but clearly, In her scared state she saw this differently, getting trauma instead.

“You never told me about that—”

“It’s not something I’m bragging about.”

“Understandable. But why are you scared of Robin? He saved you, didn’t he?”

“But ever since then, he only brings the bad memories. The violence, the fear, the shots. He was almost cruel, fighting with them. Like he lost humanity just swinging his katana in the air. Like an assassin, who would have no problem just cutting people in pieces if they stood in his way.”

His heart broke at that moment.

She saw him – well – his alter ego – as vicious and aggressive.

So it was obvious now – he could never tell her the truth. Not if he wanted her to stay with him and not run away scared and screaming.

Therefore, instead of answering or pushing her to explain further, he just pulled closer without a word, capturing her in his embrace, offering safety and comfort.

If only she knew—

She could never know-

Now.

“I can explain—”

“Get away from me!”

“Please stop yelling.”

“You’re Robin!”

“I am Robin.” He sighed trying his best to keep his cool and not just scream at her for being irrational.

She had every right to freak out about so many things. He hadn’t.

In the final analysis, it was him who gave her traumatic memories, kept a secret from her, left her in the dark and used his own twisted logic to justify all that.

So it was on him, and now the task on the horizon – convincing her that he was still the same person she knew and loved – was bordering impossible.

Especially given the fact she moved to the most distant corner of the apartment, as far away from him as possible.

And he thought that the worst thing that could ever happen to him was physical pain.

“Y/N, just hear me out.” He took one step forward and she shuddered.

“You’re Robin.” Her sobbing tore through the otherwise quiet space.

“Yes.”

“Was it your plan all along? Trap me like a wild game only to punish later on? Maybe this relationship was fake from the beginning.” She started spiralling out of control and he knew he had to stop it now, before she got into a panic fit or heart attack.

“It was never fake!” he cried out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to his chest, wrapping arms around her. Mindful to not make her feel trapped or overwhelmed. “It was never fake, beloved…”

“Let go of me!” she struggled against his grip and as much as he wanted to force her to stay in his arms, he couldn’t. Not if making her believe he was not aggressive and forceful was at stake.

“Just kill me already—”

“Kill you?” this time it was him who took a step back, her words like a bolt of electricity sending him into a cardiac attack. “is that what—Y/n! Is that what you think I do?! Kill people?!”

“I don’t know what I believe!” he yelled through the tears “How could you keep this from me!?”

“I’m sorry-“

“I don’t care!”

“Just listen to me!”

“You’re a liar!!”

“Well, technically-“ he became a little defensive, because her logic was holey. Not telling the truth was not the same as lying. Regardless, she never gave him a chance to finish that sentence, throwing a pillow at him. “Really?” his eyes rolled involuntarily in a well -practised almost innate gesture, that was definitely inappropriate in the moment.

“Well I’m sorry, I don’t own a katana like you! Would you rather I start throwing kitchen knives at you!?”

“Not really. Your aim is terrible.” He smirked and she couldn’t help but let out a muffled chuckle at his face.

“Asshole.”

“Now that’s a little offensive.” Seeing her calming down a little he dared to take one step forward, careful as if approaching a wild, untamed animal. “Is there really the need to call me such insulting words?”

“Blockhead.”

“Mhm.” Another step forward. “I’ll take it.”

“Dolt…” she added.

“Anything else on your mind?” he smirked, finally being close enough to grab and squeeze her hands, showing with the gesture that this time he was not going to let go, but also that he was not going to hurt her. Not now, not ever.

“A lot, actually.”

“Well, while you gather those thoughts, how about you let me speak?”

She nodded, and he looked deep into her eyes. Explaining himself or justifying his actions was something new to Damian, who learned that he can pretty much do whatever and whenever without the need to care for anyone.

But there he was, caring for her – loving her – and becoming unable to see her hurt and confused.

“I thought-“

“You thought you were protecting me? Please, come up with something original and not the slogan.”

“I was protecting you! And for the record – I forgot what we talked about those months ago! If I remembered that ironically all this time you were scared of me--”

“You forgot my trauma?” she mocked “not good, boyfriend.”

“Shit, Y/N!”

“Damian Wayne, are you swearing?”

“All the dirty things we did and you’re grabbing at my words?”

“Damian!” she blushed, as the situation became a little heated.

“See? This is what you should be linking with me.”

“Seriously, you want me to only think about---?”

“Not only that!” he cried out, becoming awfully aware how smart she was with twisting the words. “I thought you were terrified of me and now you’re just mocking?”

“I was terrified, but seeing you all flustered, unsure how to proceed is becoming funny.” She laughed softly.

“Well I’m glad I could be of entertainment.” He muttered under the nose. “What was so terrible that you think you did after all?”

“You swear you are not here to punish me?”

“I am here because I am in love with you.” There, he admitted it.

“You—“

“I love you.” He said again, not breaking eye contact. “And I hate to see you in so much pain and guilt. Help me help you. Tell me what this is about.”

“That morning at the bakery – I had no idea, I swear—”

“Y/N, take a deep breath. In and out. In and out.” He grabbed her hands, squeezing reassuringly, making her sit against the wall. “Talk to me.”

“One of the breads …” she stuttered “there was drug powder in it…. That was why those guys attacked the bakery. Cause those were the dealers and the owner got into their black books! But I didn’t know, I only learned about it after the accident…”

“You did nothing wrong.” He cut her off, his tone stern. “You hear me, Y/N? You did nothing wrong.”

“My friend got addicted to it. And It’s my fault, cause I was the one who recommended the place to him!” she whimpered and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Hey, no.” he pulled her closer into a comforting hug.

“Mhm. Yes.” She sobbed, raising head and looking into his eyes with teary gaze. “It got so serious they admitted him to the rehab facility.”

“It was not your fault.”

“You don’t know that…”

“I do.” Damian sighed, brushing hair from her forehead “that friend you’re talking about? He was quite a piece of shit, if you want my opinion. He wasn’t a victim in the situation, Y/N. He was the mastermind behind all that drug business.”

“And how do you--?”

“Cause I was the one putting him into that facility and seeing his conviction later on.”

“What…?”

“He didn’t just get addicted at his own will, love. He was guilty of much worse things than you accused Robin of. I mean – me.”

“Dami…”

“Hush.. It’s okay. I’m not mad.”

„I’m sorry—”

“No. You have nothing to apologise for. You are right. I never should have kept it from you. But you see, sometimes, the worst monsters are the ones around us, not really wearing masks.”

“When did you get so smart, huh?” her lips twitched a little as she fought the forming smile.

“When I realised that I don’t want to lose you. I am so sorry you had to live in fear and guilt all that time. If I could erase it—” Damian caressed her cheek ever so gently, conveying all the emotions bubbling inside his heart.

“Well at least you gave me closure.” She leaned into his touch.

“Now that you see the man under the Robin mask, tell me -am I really so scary to you?”

“You’ll take offence if I say you’re not, won’t you?”

“Sure.”

“You’re not as scary under the mask.” She laughed softly, and even if those were not the words he would normally accept, she was the exception to his every rule.

“Hey! Watch yourself!” His tone was less of a warning and more of an expression of relief.

“What?” she grinned playfully. Despite the initial concerns and fear, seeing the side of Damian that not many people get – the goofy and normal one – was helping her realise that Robin was not all he was.

And putting on a vigilante suit was not making him cruel or brutal, bloodthirsty and ready for a killing spree.

Under all that, he was a guy. Her guy. The one who vowed to protect not only her, but the entire city.

Maybe all it took was a reminder of what was hidden behind that attitude and pride.

And she smiled at him.

“Oh no. I know that smile. It means you are forgiving me for being Robin.” He muttered, knowing what was coming.

“Yeah. That I do.” She kissed his cheek. “But-“

“But you’re not forgiving me for keeping the secret.” He sighed, wrapping arms around her. “Which can only mean, I’ll be having a hard time for god knows how long.”

“I love how you get me so well.” She laughed, knowing that whatever punishment she was going to impose on him in the nearest future, he would take it without a word. “But--. Wait, does it mean that your siblings are--?”

“Of course. Took you long enough to figure it out.”

“But—”

“One step at the time, beloved. One step at the time…”

@obsessedwithromance @sandlexx @123-just-ignore-me @fatimashariq @jinviktor @cupids-diner @booksrcool @angelkat1013

#damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #damian wayne x you #robin x you #damian wayne x y/n #robin x y/n #damian wayne angst #damian wayne fluff

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a-local-idiots-shitpost · 1 year

Text

Mc has to leave on short notice and the Brothers think they ran away

Lucifer:

if anybody saw him they would think he´s incredibly angry because he thinks you just left them forever

actually he is but it very quickly turns into him locking himself into his room and just wallowing in self pity, sadness and Demonus

a very bad combo if I might add but considering it´s Lucifer what else would you expect? him talking to others how he feels? if any of those Seven could do that they wouldn´t need Mc to solve all of their problems

but no he just bottles all of his feelings up and acts like it doesn´t bother him

but it does bother him like everybody is worried if there will be a new Satan situation worried

just imagine how he will feel when he sees the note Mc left him and might I add it was just on his night stand he should have seen it days before

if any of his Brothers even think about telling Mc about this he will string them up for all of eternity

Mammon:

he locked himself in his room and refused to leave until Mc get´s back and explains themselves, he thinks they left him but he keeps himself in (false) denial that they will come back to him

which they will if he didn´t bury his “phone battery died, will be back in three days” note that Mc quickly left him

and now he´s being very insecure on why Mc might have left them and most importantly him

for his sake he should find the note quickly because man is he spiraling and really fast too

and before he thinks they must have gotten kidnapped and that´s why they aren´t there

nobody in this family can survive without Mc but Mammon is the one who is the most attached to them

Leviathan:

he knew they would eventually leave him but he hoped that they wouldn´t, but it´s not like he can blame them because who would want to stay with such a yuck Otaku like him? Mc probably just got their sense back and realized that they could do so much better than him

like he said he can´t blame them he can even barely tolerate himself too

but just like his Brothers before him he did not notice the note Mc left him saying they need to do something in the Human World quickly and just for the count it was something for him too

but no they never check their surroundings and immediately start panicking if they don´t see their Human for ten seconds

Satan:

do you know what happens when Satan get´s sad? first he´ll cry and if that isn´t enough he will get mad

like Devildom ending anger and it get´s even worse if he would think Mc abandoned them

everybody hopes that either something knocks him out or that all of this was nothing more than a horrible and terrifying mistake and Mc will soon be back

and if they aren´t well there is a good chance there it is no more Devildom or Satan got locked up somewhere depends on who is faster

yeah for everybodies well being it would be best if Mc comes back really really fast because Satan is unpredictable at this moment

Mc might also get in trouble though

Asmodeus:

if you truly did run away from him you better hope he never finds out because he would tear you into a million pieces and use your skeleton as a chewing toy for Cerberus

but luckily (or unluckily) he just thinks you ran away and you did leave him multiple messages on his phone so he knows you were in a hurry and didn´t run away

but because of all the messages he get´s daily he kinda forgot

which isn´t really good not only will he be locked into his room and refusing to come out but even if you were gone for just 24 hours if he thought you tried to leave him he would have tried to rip your hair out

let´s just hope when you do come back you have some kind of back up to stop him from committing murder

Beelzebub:

he´ll eat the entire House, not he´ll empty out the entire food in the House of Lamentation but he´ll try to eat the House from top to bottom

it would be good to return as soon as possible because he won´t be able to be stopped for all to long at best they can keep him distracted for one or two days

but after that when the House of Lamentation is destroyed the rest of the Devildom will get hit

and uhh it will kinda cause a massive decrees in the Devildom population

yeah now it´s kinda urgent to get back but if you do finally come back hiding for a little while would be good

just long enough to Beel to calm down otherwise he´ll eat you to

Belphegor:

he doesn´t even think much of it when he wakes up and notices you aren´t there, it happens often enough that you get up before him and do whatever you want instead of waiting for him to wake up

but if you´re gone for longer than a day? complete panic

like so bad that he doesn´t even can fall asleep and for the Avatar of Sloth that is pretty bad

and if he starts to think you ran away better not let him see you before everything is cleared

he uhh… doesn´t really take it well that you left him or more so that he thinks you left them

yeah you´re going to need a bodyguard for a while after you get back

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #lucifer avatar of pride #obey me mammon #mammon avatar of greed #obey me leviathan #leviathan avatar of envy #satan avatar of wrath #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus avatar of lust #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub avatar of gluttony #belphegor avatar of sloth #obey me belphegor

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tonicandjins · 1 year

Text

frequent flyers | lee donghyuck

CHARACTERS: haechan | lee donghyuck x fem reader

WORD COUNT: 13k

GENRE: angst, fluff, smut (non-linear) | best friends to strangers

AUTHOR'S NOTE: read with caution. this is written in a non-linear form, so you don't know when it's going to hurt ;) this is a dh x reader version of my markhyuck fic from ao3, but with a different ending

frequent flyers is the third installment from 23 moments with donghyuck

Donghyuck looks beautiful like this: skin glowing under the dainty string lines and lined up lanterns hanging from the high ceilings, lips curled up to genuine smile instead of the usual teasing smirk plastered on his mouth, cheeks tainted in berry red—a single manifestation of the glasses of wine he’s had tonight, eyes round and sincere and everything you’ve ever known.

Zhong Chenle’s mellifluous voice echoes in the banquet, singing to the tune of lover as the newly weds take their first dance (third song in) in the middle of the floor, surrounded by couples and lovers swaying. From your peripheral view, you catch a glimpse of Park Jisung sneaking his phone out and recording the whole thing—after Chenle clearly mentioned no one else aside from the newlyweds’ assigned videographer is allowed to film him.

On other days, you’d love to listen to Chenle’s golden voice, and he knows this because from all the years you’ve known him, you’d supported his career and you’d spend many hours sitting in his studio, listening to him record, or sitting somewhere halfway across the world, watching him write his songs. I can listen to him sing all day, you’d say, but as the night jumps deeper into its darkness, you realize how excruciatingly long his 15-minute medley went by.

You look across the room.

Donghyuck looks enthralling like this: beautiful even after all these years, charming like he’s the day he turned 21, grown, earnest, and at ease. It’s agonizing to look at from where you sit across the room—hands wrapped around her waist, eyes closing as he leans in, drunk, drunk, drunk like the night you’d left him, heart void of you.

You begin to count.

At 27, you’re pretty much done with all kinds of romance the world could offer.

Unlike the person sitting next to you, you prefer to listen to Blushing Youth than watch some high-rated romantic comedy film during your 12-hour flight from Heathrow to Incheon, and while you’ve been moving around for most of your life (having earned your nickname as frequent flyer, credits to Jisung), flying is not one of the things you’re fond of. In fact, it’s not in the long list of strengths you brag about in your LinkedIn bio. You reckon it would truly be embarrassing, to say the least, to ask a stranger to distract you from the sound of the aircraft’s engine running at full power as it takes off from the runway, hence you opt to blast Ahn Jiyoung’s voice right in your eardrums.

It’s odd, people would say, for someone who’s supposedly mastered the art of moving from one country to another to be so terrified of flights, but if people want you to be completely honest, nothing sounds more horrifying than the thought of seeing Lee Donghyuck after years of radio silence.

As pathetic as it sounds, your heart still skips a beat—three, sometimes—at the thought of him.

Donghyuck, who used to be your sun, who had you orbiting around his gravitational pull for years, who used to be so close but not enough to have, who—if you think about it now—might have never been the center of your solar system after all, but maybe just a shooting star passing by.

The plane takes off, roughly and loud like you’d expected, and you catch a glimpse of a scene from Love, Rosie from the person sitting beside you and immediately regret going coach instead of flying business like how you would if your flights last more than ten hours. You hate this film; you hate it because Alex is to Rosie, like how Donghyuck is to you.

Alex and Rosie, like you and Donghyuck, are—were—long-time best friends who used to be inseparable until one day they’re not. Rosie misses her chance. Alex stops yearning, hoping, waiting, and finally decides to get on with his life. It’s a story of a bunch of tangled webs—a messy tumbleweed of missed calls and delayed flights, of long nights and short days, of forgotten promises and faded hope.

The film introduces new people, bids goodbye to old chapters, but in the end it’s Alex and Rosie.

And you wish that’s how your story went. You don’t end up kissing him in your very own hotel with an awe-striking view of the horizon right outside the window.

You bury the thought before you start missing him again. You run out of tracks from Blushing Youth’s discography like how you run dry from thinking about what happens next when your plane lands.

Might as well sleep it off.

A sharp, jabbing pain on your left leg wakes you up from your unscheduled sleep. Hissing, you find Donghyuck sitting on top of your legs.

“I swear to God,” you breathe, kicking your best friend’s weight off your limbs. “I will freaking kill you.”

“Dude, what’s wrong with saying fuck? You’re literally twenty,” Donghyuck replies, moving further so his entire body crushes yours, and you have to pretend that his warmth doesn’t make you feel some type of way, hence you push him as hard as you can until he falls onto the carpeted floor of your room.

He falls with a thump. “Screw you,” he mumbles, mouth forming a pout that you’d gladly smack out of his face—except you’d do it with your very own lips. “It’s almost one in the afternoon. Why are you napping?”

“Good question, Donghyuck,” you start, sitting up and rubbing your eyes while looking for the pair of specs that Donghyuck is already shoving towards your direction; you gladly take it. “Unlike you, I had to work in the café until one in the morning. I hate being rostered in the closing shift, but it pays damn well. Plus, I forgot to do my laundry so I had to throw my clothes in before I slept.

“Overworking again, I see,” he muses, sighing as he scoots to sit cross-legged across you on the bed too tiny for two people.

“The last week of the semester always sucks balls,” you answer, tilting your head in attempts to stretch your stiffened neck and get some kind of relief. “Why are you here anyway? Shouldn’t you be out there doing something stupid with Na Jaemin?”

“There’s a music festival on Friday,” he starts right away. “Jaemin’s wondering if I’d be interested to go, says he could get us some free passes from the guy he’s hooking up with. Apparently, the guy is DJ-ing.”

You blink. “Which one? Lee Jeno? Or Yoon Sanha?” you ask, genuinely curious because Jaemin is Jaemin and he could never be caught exclusively hooking up with one person.

Donghyuck shrugs. “Does it matter? Is it a yes or a no? That’s the question.”

He begins to fiddle with his fingers, playing with the rings on his long, delicate digits, and you recognize it almost instantly. Donghyuck is nervous. You might have an idea why.

“Is this you finally asking me out, Lee Donghyuck?” you half-joke, scratching your head. Donghyuck looks anywhere but your face. A glimpse of his eyes is all you need, because if the eyes are the windows to one’s soul, then Donghyuck’s are wide open, with no curtains and bare from all layers—at least that’s how they are to you. His eyes are wavering, and though he’s mastered the ability to keep his face tough as steel, those orbs could only do so little when it comes to hiding from you.

So, you smile, reaching out and leaning closer, kneeling until you’re face to face with him. “Only kidding, Hyuck,” you say finally, taking it easy because this conversation is not for one who’s hazy from sleep and one who can’t even look at the other in the eyes. “Of course, I’ll come with you. Who else can you bring anyway?”

Donghyuck looks up, rolling his eyes; he’s back. “You’re not really irreplaceable,” he replies smugly. “Don’t think too highly of yourself.”

You poke your tongue out and reach over your night stand to check your phone; at the same time, Donghyuck starts biting his fingernails. You don’t think twice—like blinking, a habit, natural—and reach out to pull his hand away, mumbling about how he should start working on getting rid of this bad habit of his. Donghyuck’s hand is warmer compared to yours, and he lets out a whine, complaining about your freezing hands, but squeezes you hand back anyway.

You are content with this. You hope Donghyuck is, too.

The lingering touches. The stolen kisses. The piercing glances.

While they all seem fleeting and simple, they mean the most to you. You begin to think if Donghyuck feels the same as he pulls you closer until you’re both back lying on his bed, your cheek resting on top of Donghyuck’s warm, cloth-covered chest. You wonder if he means it, when he says you’re not irreplaceable and that maybe you’re a little too comfortable, a little too satisfied with whatever it is that you have.

On a drunken night, Donghyuck may have asked you once. You remember it and think about it so much that sometimes it felt like a dream.

“How long, Y/N,” he had asked, his voice an octave deeper than usual, gaze a shade darker. “How long until you let yourself just lose it? For once, just—just please, let your feelings consume you.”

You didn’t want to—not then, not now—because it’s going to hurt.

It’s going to hurt because it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Donghyuck who feels like home, whose hands are warm enough for your cold ones, your own little sun. Losing him is the extinction of your solar system.

“Y/N,” he had whined when you didn’t reply, shaking you, pleading. “When are you going to want for more? I want you to ask me for more.”

But Donghyuck had passed out before you had the chance to think of an answer—time frame—and you wonder what your answer would have been if Donghyuck stayed awake for a couple more minutes.

“I guess napping at this time of the day doesn’t sound too bad,” Donghyuck murmurs against your hair, kissing it before relaxing. “Set an alarm for me. 3 pm.”

You hope Donghyuck asks you again, not this time, but you hope the question lingers in his mind a little longer.

He falls asleep to the sound of your breathing.

When the person sitting next to you finally wakes up, you could only sigh in relief.

The aircraft has landed a few minutes ago, and your flight seatmate slept so soundly that it took you a couple of minutes to shake her awake.

The 12-hour flight is a pain in the ass, and you wish you mean that figuratively. Waiting was something that you were once good at, and Renjun often told you he wished he had half the patience you had. If you think about it now and reflect whether you’re as patient and as willing to wait as before, you’d changed vastly. Ridiculous, how one could change so much in a lifetime.

Huang Renjun is standing behind a barricade when you finally reach the arrival area after going through immigration. He’s holding a piece of paper that says WELCOME HOME, Y/N! Renjun doesn’t give you the time to cross the boundary because he attacks you in bone-crushing hug the second he’s allowed to. You almost topple over him, your glasses at risk of either falling out of your face and into the cold, hard ground, or being crushed between your nose and Renjun’s shoulder.

Renjun chants your nickname over and over again, swaying both your bodies left and right as though you weighed nothing. “I’m literally about to combust. My chest has been pounding since I arrived here. You have no idea how much I missed you, and you were taking forever to go through immigration.”

“Oh, Huang Renjun,” you sigh, inhaling his scent and returning the hug. “Some things never change. You’re still the sweetest when you miss people. Absence really makes the heart grow fond.”

Renjun pulls away to get a good look on you. “Y/N, you’re all grown up. I can’t believe you resisted not seeing me in person for four years.”

“You’re just as grown up as I am,” you reply. “We Facetime each other every other day. What are you talking about?”

“It’s never the same,” he mumbles and helps you with your luggage despite it only being one small luggage, a small duffel bag, and your small backpack. He starts nagging as soon as he notices how small your baggage is.

“You were away for literally four years and you think packing three old shirts and a pair of jeans will be enough to get you through your entire trip here?” Renjun gasps. “You’re stupid if you think Chenle and Jisung are allowing you to leave after what we’re all here for. They have an entire month planned out the second you agreed to come home.”

“I didn’t bring only three shirts, for your information. And I did bring a few pairs of trousers and a coat, plus my dress for the wedding,” you defend. “And I can’t extend my trip here. I thought we’ve all got that one settled.”

Renjun laughs, as if what you said is some kind of joke, as he leads you towards the exit of the airport. “You know we would 100%, without hesitation, burn your passport if it means we could make you stay longer, don’t you? I hope you don’t underestimate us like that.”

You chuckle at his empty threat, your chest swelling at the thought of your long-time friends being thrilled of your arrival in Seoul. You wonder how much has changed in the last four years, and you reckon nothing much has when it comes to your friends. You’d left when most of you were twenty-three, and the only person you’d ever seen in person since then was Chenle, who at that time, had business in London so he stayed where you lived instead of a luxurious hotel he could afford.

“We’re heading to Chenle’s place,” Renjun announces as soon as you sit comfortably in the passenger seat of his car. “But he’s still in his studio recording something, so he won’t be around until maybe five.”

“Why are we going to Chenle’s place if he’s not there yet?” you ask. “He didn’t tell me he had work.”

“We’ve all worked around our schedules to meet you today,” Renjun explains as he turns the ignition on and starts backing up. “And everyone knows his home’s passcode. Remember back in college when his stupid fancy condo eventually became everyone’s? That’s still how it is now. Only this time, he owns a penthouse in Gangnam’s most expensive building. What a spoiled brat.”

“He earned it,” you comment.

Renjun hums. An old track from the local radio station plays just as the vehicle exits the airport’s parking area. You hadn’t heard this song in years, but your mouth sings the lyrics as though it’s only been yesterday.

Renjun is amused. “Some things never really change.”

Donghyuck suddenly changes his hair color on Sophomore year in college. You, on the other hand, are about to have an aneurysm.

Na Jaemin makes fun of you, laughs as if your reaction is the most hilarious thing he’s ever seen his entire life. He deems it as the best day of his life.

“Jaemin, am I a fucking joke to you?” you ask. Jaemin doesn’t even bother to answer. “You think this is funny?”

You almost choke on nothing when Donghyuck decides to walk towards the table you’re sharing with Jaemin inside the university’s very own cafeteria. He’s holding a tray of food for lunch. The man himself has a shy smile on his face, evidently aware of the attention that the people around are giving him because of his newly-dyed pink hair, and you can’t really blame anyone if they stared a little longer.

Because Donghyuck is already beautiful, with his shining eyes and glowing skin and a smile that could make the earth stop orbiting around the sun.

But this Donghyuck, Pink Sun as Jaemin had started calling him, he’s something else. You might pass out if you look at him a little longer.

“I told you pink looks amazing on you!” Jaemin exclaims as soon as Donghyuck is close enough.

Donghyuck instantly blushes, but covers it up with a smug smirk across his mouth.

“Careful,” Donghyuck warns. “I don’t want you getting hurt if I reject you.”

Jaemin gasps, “You would never!”

Donghyuck playfully sticks out his tongue on Jaemin and finally, finally, turns towards you. Your breath is caught in a hitch. Donghyuck tilts his head slightly and you’re about to punch himself in the face.

“What do you think?” the man asks, smiling cheekily. “Do you think I look better blond or pink-haired?”

You swallow. It takes you great power not to pull Donghyuck and kiss him squarely on the mouth.

Blond Donghyuck was a menace in the society. Pink Sun is giving you a heart attack.

But you’re not about to make things too obvious, so you shrug and mutter a small “either is fine.” Jaemin kicks you under the table. Donghyuck sighs, taking out his phone to open its front camera, probably to check himself out as he brushes his fingertips in his hair.

“You’re cheap, Y/N,” he says, putting his phone down. “I basically burn my scalp to get this hair color and pull it off better than Lee Taeyong ever will, and all I get from you is, ‘either is fine.’”

Jaemin laughs hysterically, taking his phone out as Donghyuck takes the empty seat beside you—like always, because seats beside you are always reserved for him. Donghyuck carefully places the tray of food he got, immediately, your eyes catch the extra drink he has and your heart somersaults because you know it’s for you.

And this is supposed to be normal. Your friends tell you it’s a routine—every day—and you and him do things for each other like second nature. So, why does it make your heart race like this?

Your phone chimes as Donghyuck starts eating.

“We really need to work on your communication skills,” the text message from Jaemin says.

Your comprehension in Korean went from bad to worse, if it’s even possible.

Renjun is currently roasting you for it, while Jisung and Kim Minjeong are arguing about what to eat. You tell them how small the Asian community in London is as compared to other countries. Jaemin announces that Mark Lee just boarded his flight from Vancouver, too, and you cheer, excited to see him as well after all these years. Yoo Jimin calls out Jisung and Minjeong’s bullshit and says she’d already ordered from the nearest restaurant.

How you all end up in Chenle’s penthouse before the owner himself is aware, you have no idea. All you know is that things have not really changed that much.

You feel a little disoriented, your mind still a little hazy from the 12-hour trip, and you hate that the jetlag is hitting you as early as now. You feel like you could fall asleep anytime soon.

Then you hear familiar voices faintly coming from the door, then the door itself being unlocked. You observe from the digital clock above Chenle’s fancy television that it’s only nearly two in the afternoon, so it’s not Chenle who’s coming in.

Donghyuck appears from the door before you realize it, and he takes your breath away before you could even look him in the eyes.

“Sorry, we’re late,” the dark-haired man says, his voice making you feel suffocated, stepping out of his boots because God forbid anyone who steps inside Zhong Chenle’s penthouse wearing the outdoor shoes.

Lee Jeno enters behind him, his eye smile ready to meet you, while Jaemin says they arrived just in time for lunch. All is a blur and everything sounds like white noise, because Donghyuck looks at you in the eyes with the softest gaze, the smallest smile, and suddenly it doesn’t feel so cold in Seoul.

Jeno walks past him and finds his space beside Jaemin. You hear Renjun and Jisung start arguing about another thing. All while Donghyuck stays still from where he stands, about ten feet away from your space, eyes still on you.

When they’re done dancing, Donghyuck walks with her, holding her hand and keeping her close.

He passes by, doesn’t even take a glance to your direction.

Donghyuck looks at you in amusement.

“It was terrible,” you grunt. “The worst day of my life.”

He giggles and pulls you in his arms, kissing the top of your head while you stand in the middle of the room. You’re still dressed in your warm clothes as you’d just arrived from the airport. You sigh in relief because you’ve been waiting for this all weekend.

“Don’t be too dramatic,” he mumbles. “Your cousin’s going to be ballistic if he learns that you called his wedding the worst day of your life.”

“You should’ve gone there with me,” you muse. “They were introducing me to so many people, and my uncle knows I’m shit at socializing, therefore forcing me to hang out with people I barely know is like stabbing me in the eye and asking me how many fingers you’re holding up.”

Donghyuck chuckles. “What could I have done if I were there?”

You smile, burying your face in his warm chest. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why’d you need me there?” Donghyuck asks again. You know he’s teasing you now, poking until he gets the answer he wants to hear. And you’re not about to deny Donghyuck of that. Besides, nothing is more satisfying than knowing you could make Donghyuck feel flustered despite of his strong, wild persona. So, you reach up and kiss him on the chin and hug him closer.

“Because nothing is as bad as it seems when you’re around, my love.”

Donghyuck begins to pull away, making you hold onto him tighter, as if your hands would grow cold without touching him. Donghyuck only laughs, allowing you to hug him longer, and you wonder if you could stretch this night out for as long as he can.

The moment passes by quickly.

“Donghyuck, will you at least listen to me?”

“I’m done, Y/N.”

Renjun announces he’s done cleaning up.

Jaemin doesn’t waste a single second, getting up from his space on the other couch and announces it’s time they really catch up with everyone. It turns out that Jimin herself just got back from Germany yesterday as well, while Minjeong took a week off from work, and all had waited for you to come home before gathering in Chenle’s place.

“Mark’s a piece of shit, just like you,” Jeno comments when asked why the older didn’t take the earliest flight. Apparently, like yourself, Mark couldn’t get a couple of weeks off from work, hence he’d decided to travel a few days before the wedding, which is essentially why you all had a reason to gather once again after all these years.

“Why are you all harassing me and Mark for not being able to take a longer leave from work?” you whine, throwing a cushion towards where Jeno is seated, right beside Jimin. “It’s not like we can help it!”

Minjeong snorts, “You could’ve said you have COVID or something.”

You snicker. “Only you could think of that, Minjeong-ah.”

Jeno talks about his recent flight to Yonagunijima in Okinawa for a business trip. Renjun tells him he’s never gone that far in Japan, his farthest trip being in Osaka; Jeno says he can take him there anytime he gets some free time from work. Jaemin hypes up Jisung’s newly built dance studio and the contract he’d just signed with the biggest entertainment company in Asia, to which Jisung only downplays and says it’s not that big of deal.

You and Donghyuck stay quiet while everyone else talks over one another. He sits at the other end of the same couch you’re sitting on while Jisung occupies the space between you and him. Renjun probably feels the tension, so he cuts it.

“Donghyuck, what have you been up to?” Renjun asks, reaching over for a piece of chocolate you’d stolen from Chenle’s fridge.

Donghyuck shrugs. “Renjun-ah, don’t act like we don’t see each other every weekend.”

Renjun scoffs. “We’re here to catch up. Do you want me to tell them what you’ve been up to myself?”

Donghyuck throws a cushion and misses. “Nothing’s new about me, guys. Nothing that’s interesting enough.” Then, he leans forward and turns to you. “Maybe Y/N has anything to say. I mean, she’s the one who’s been away the longest.”

It takes you aback, the interaction unexpected, and gets you stuttering. “I’m—There’s really nothing, I mean.”

Donghyuck laughs lightly. “Loosen up. You look like you’d rather be elsewhere but here.”

“It’s not like that,” you defend. “It’s just—jetlag.”

“Of course,” Donghyuck nods. “How long was the flight?”

“Twelve hours,” you answer. Renjun does his best, distracting everyone else with a new conversation so you and Donghyuck, you assume, would feel more comfortable rather than have everyone listen to you talking with the person you used to know the best. Jisung tries to subtly leave, pretending like he needs to go to the restroom, and you know it’s a tactic because you also know Jisung like the back of your hand.

Donghyuck immediately moves closer, taking the space Jisung used to sit on, the distance pulling the air out of your lungs.

“And my flight was delayed for a couple of hours because of a storm,” you continue, clearing your voice. “So, fourteen hours in total, plus one hour from Incheon to Gangnam.”

Donghyuck nods. “Well, you fly frequently.”

You nod back. “Not that frequently anymore. Since the pandemic, I’ve been working from home a lot; there was no need to travel after all. Or move to a different country. It turns out we can do everything virtually.”

Donghyuck chuckles, almost sarcastically. “What a shame that the entire world realized suddenly that everything could work virtually.”

You smile, sadly almost. “Yeah. What a shame.”

“I didn’t get the whole thing,” Jisung sighs. “What a shame. The last parts were the best.”

“You know Chenle’s going to kill you if he finds out you took a video, right?”

Jisung nods proudly. “That was the point.”

“Lia, wait,” Donghyuck’s voice echoes—not loud enough to catch anyone else’s attention, but definitely enough for you. You watch him follow Lia out.

You decide you’ve had enough. The wedding’s done now, anyway. There’s nothing left for you here.

Jisung looks at you. “Y/N.”

“Just need some space, Jisung,” you say. “I’m okay.”

“You’re lying,” You gasp, almost dropping your iPad upon Donghyuck’s revelation. “Holy shit, Donghyuck, that’s huge!”

“Never thought I’d hear that in another context but thanks, my love,” Donghyuck replies, a proud smile etched on his mouth. He reaches over and shows you a piece of paper, the confirmation of his participation in a convention in Shanghai a couple of weeks from now.

“Wait until Jaemin hears this,” You ramble, already on his phone to text said friend about the good news. “He’s going to throw a party for you.”

“You guys are too proud of me,” Donghyuck whines. “What if I end up being such a flop outside my comfort zone? There are going to be so many amazing artists out there. I heard some vocal majors from Konkuk are attending the conference with me, and I am already terrified of them. I can't imagine myself once I'm surrounded by even more talented and more intimidating singers."

You put down your tablet on your desk, sighing as you step closer towards Donghyuck. You’re in the apartment you share with Jimin, and Donghyuck called in earlier to tell you he’s got some great news. Neither of you really have much time to meet these days, with your internship at Seoul's biggest web developer company and the drastic changes in Donghyuck's schedule, it's a little too difficult to hang out in the safety of your apartment.

Donghyuck is evidently taken aback when you suddenly wrap an arm around his neck, tumbling when you pull him closer and kisses the air out of his lungs. You regret closing your eyes when your lips touch, thinking about the way Donghyuck looks like whenever you kiss him like this. Like Donghyuck's all you’ve ever needed. Like all the years of pining and hurting are expressed in a single kiss. Like it's everything you’ve always wanted and more.

It's not the first time you kiss—you’ve lost count you made out in the back of Jeno’s car two months ago while all your friends are drunk and out of their minds—but it always feels like it is.

Donghyuck's lips are soft, soft, soft, and you can never get enough of the kissing him. The first, featherlight, a little hesitant touch of your lips would be your second favorite part (the favorite is when Donghyuck's licking your mouth and nibbles on your lower lip), and his hands, his delicate hands would always be in your hair, pulling and pressing and touching.

It's perfect. Donghyuck pulls you down with him on your very own bed, letting you sit on his lap.

He's kissing you everywhere, your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your neck, your jaw, but he stops when you begin to unbutton his shirt. You look down on him, confused and eager and dazed, and usually, Donghyuck would give in without a single fight, but this time he stops you.

"What are we doing, Y/N?" Donghyuck lets out, like he's been holding this breath forever and now he's finally exhaling it.

"We're," you start, confused why he’s asking all of a sudden, but you don’t really have an answer to that. "We're—”

"Messing around. Having fun while we can," Donghyuck finishes, quoting your own words the first time you hooked up. "I know. But that was before, right? What about now? What are we doing now?"

Your hands drop on Donghyuck's side. Donghyuck quickly takes both of them in his, giving you a comforting squeeze, as if he's encouraging you to say something. To be brave. To let go.

"We can't go on like this if you don't answer me, Y/N," Donghyuck says softly. "I know what I want, and you know that it's you. Just you. From the beginning. As long as I live. And you are making me happy right now. But I need to know if this is what you want, too."

"Love, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want you," you explain, eyes wavering.

"Y/N, listen to me," Donghyuck urges, letting go of one of your hands to hold your face so you could look into each other's eyes. "Tell me now. Tell me now, honestly, if this is something you would want in the long run."

"Donghyuck," You sigh, like you’re begging for Donghyuck to stop asking. But Donghyuck doesn't let his guard down. He keeps his hands on you, waiting.

You want nobody else but Donghyuck, too. From the beginning. For as long as you live. And Donghyuck is making you happy, and you know well that Donghyuck will make you happy in the long run. The last two months of whatever game you’re playing had been fun. There was no agreement on being exclusive, no rules of some sort, and it all fell into place like you and him are supposed to end up like this. You hadn’t put a label on it, but you and Donghyuck are best friends for many years now. You went through growing pains together, survived each one of the flights you frequently took around the world, went to the same college together, and you don’t really see the point of rushing for a label now.

Because you have other things in mind other than what you feel right now. You have codes to master and board directors to impress. Donghyuck has auditions to pass and flights to catch as well, and now, an opportunity in Shanghai. Not to mention you’re both cramming to have the best credentials to get you the best job after graduation. Now is not really the best time.

So, just like many happenstances in your life, you come up with a stupid, stupid answer.

"I—I don't know, Donghyuck," you say nervously. "I mean, you're clearly making me happy. And I don't plan on seeing anyone else, but I haven't really gotten around to think about it."

Donghyuck takes his touch away all of a sudden. You reach out to hold his hands in place back to your face, but he lets go.

"Think about it?" Donghyuck asks, voice shaking. "What is there to think about? It's a simple question, Y/N. Do you want me for a long time or am I just some good fuck for you?"

"Donghyuck, why are you saying that?" you retort, angry now. "I just said you make me happy. And I'm not playing with you. I just—it's—with all the things going on in my life and yours, a relationship is not something I can maintain right now."

"Maintain?" Donghyuck chuckles, pulling his hands away, gently pushing you off his lap and standing away from your bed to put some space between you and him. "Y/N, we've been best friends since we were in high school. Literally nothing has changed for us except we kiss and fuck now. What is there to think about? I really do not understand."

You sigh. The sound of it makes Donghyuck pull away further until he’s picking up his backpack.

"Donghyuck, wait," You say, but Donghyuck is already out of his room, barefoot, his shoes in his hands.

Barefoot, his shoes in one hand, two bottles of beer on the other, Donghyuck finds you by the pool outside the wedding reception. He sits beside you and mimics the way you rolled the bottom of your dress up to your thighs so it doesn’t get wet and does the same with his expensive trousers.

“What are you doing out here?” you muse, eyes staring blankly at the way your feet look blurred out underwater. “Shouldn’t you be inside getting drunk and having the time of your life?”

Donghyuck chuckles, his cheeks painted like cherries, mouth glazed like strawberries, and hands you the cold bottle of beer. “I’m already drunk. Do you think I’d have the courage to come find you here if I was sober?”

You nod, taking the bottle from his hand. “Good point. Fun party?”

“Jaemin and Jeno never fail to organize the best party,” he stammers. “They used to invite everyone in their shared apartment to play the American games they learned from Johnny-hyung. I can’t believe they’re married now.”

Jaemin and Jeno, the very reason why all of you gathered after all these years, have always been destined for each other, and you know this because you’d seen them start off as nothing and watched them turn to everything. Their wedding had been the sole reason why you’d returned to Seoul.

“I always knew they’d end up together,” you mutter, drinking from the cold bottle. “I used to manifest it. I said it all the time I saw them together.”

Donghyuck giggles. “You used to believe in the law of attraction so much. You manifested everything that’s happened in your life.”

“I did, didn’t I?” you reply, tasting the bitterness coming from the drink, a reminder why you prefer any other drink aside from beer.

It’s quite for a minute until Donghyuck talks.

“Why didn’t you manifest us?” he says suddenly, words a little grumbled. He’s probably had too much to drink already. You hold onto him naturally as his head starts swaying until his head is leaning against your shoulder, close enough to hear each other breathing. “Y/N, why did you never say we’d end up together like this, too? You were so damn good with this law of attraction bullshit. You could’ve manifested our wedding, too.”

Donghyuck is drunk, and drunk Donghyuck is always vulnerable. His tone of voice is enough for you to decide to cut this trip shorter than it already is. A week, you had promised Jeno and Jaemin, you’d leave two days after the wedding. But at this moment, when you’re frozen in place, Donghyuck’s warmth touching your coldness, you begin to ponder if it had been a good idea to come back in Seoul at all.

You love Jeno and Jaemin and would do anything for them in a heartbeat. Therefore, when the couple announced their engagement two months ago, it had been a quick, solid yes, of course, I’ll be there because you wouldn’t miss their wedding for the world, even if it had been exactly four years and two months since the last time you’d breathed the air of Seoul and that you’d rather die than be in a 12-hour flight, you swore you’d be with your friends during such a huge chapter of their lives.

Your schedules were immediately reconstructed, a ticket to Seoul safely tucked in the files in your desk’s drawer, and all your friends from London were already asking you to bring something back from Seoul when your trip is over. It was all set, with the promise of checking in with your teammates from work during your one-week leave, and it was the easiest itinerary you’d ever made. What you failed to prepare, truly, is yourself.

Somehow, you knew this would happen. You knew coming back would mean seeing Donghyuck. And seeing Donghyuck means opening wounds you’re not certain have healed and resuming conversations you’d never wanted to go back to. And this means, at any given time Donghyuck is within your space, you’d be a goner.

Because four years, it turns out, isn’t enough to get over him.

Quite funny, if you think about it now, how after all these years, you’re still orbiting around him.

You clear your throat, no words coming out, and Donghyuck starts to fall asleep against your shoulder.

Your right shoulder feels sore after falling asleep on your side on Chenle’s couch the morning after Jaemin and Jeno’s bachelor party. It was crazy, to say the least, and you’d decided to drink your guts to in hopes of not remembering anything in the morning. It sucks because you’re stupidly hungover and you remember everything.

The group was divided into two. You, Renjun, Donghyuck, and Minjeong were in charge of Jaemin in the other side of the city, courtesy of Jung Jaehyun for sponsoring and personally planning the grand party for his favorite dongsaeng. Meanwhile, Jisung, Chenle, Mark, and Jimin had planned Jeno’s very own party, along with Lee Taeyong who funded the event.

If you’re being completely honest, you’d think that after college, your friends would lose their sparks in setting up amazing parties, but last night proved you wrong.

The alcohol was disgusting, but you like that it made Renjun do things he wouldn’t do sober. Jaemin refused to get shit-faced drunk because his wedding is in two days, his hangovers usually last an entire day—he doesn’t want to show up at his own wedding looking like a zombie. Minjeong, well, she’s Minjeong, so she was just all over the place, nagging and getting drunk. She’s also a snob who thinks so highly of herself despite being the youngest in the group and liked to look down on her older friends all while attempting to stand upright after downing five shots of tequila.

Donghyuck, however, decided to bring his new girlfriend. Her name is Lia. And the only goal last night was to stay as far away as possible.

You knew that the relationship was new because Jisung filled you in before you had all parted ways for the parties, said that Donghyuck started dating her two months ago right around the time Jaemin and Jeno got engaged, Jimin being their bridge because Lia and Jimin have been friends since last year. Apparently, Lia’s been interested with him for years now; she just never had the chance because like you, Donghyuck also disappeared in and out from Seoul for a couple of years until he’d decided to stay here for good two years ago.

You can’t remember how many shots you had and how many cocktails were handed to you last night, but you wish you had more because it was evidently not enough to erase the scenarios from last night. It wasn’t enough to blur out the memories of Donghyuck holding her, kissing her, dancing with her, and just all out being a lovey-dovey boyfriend.

It’s a relief that you got home safely. There was no designated driver because the plan was to really get drunk, so Jaehyun had one of his employees drive everyone to Chenle’s penthouse because it’s the closest. You hope the others returned to Jeno’s place safely, too.

You stay still from where you’re lying down, eyes up on the ceiling, wondering what time it is. There was no plan for today aside from wedding rehearsal at six in the evening to make sure everything’s all set for tomorrow, so you reckon you have the entire day to get rid of your hangover.

You roll over to your side, facing the television, and the clock tells you it’s eleven in the morning. Renjun is snoring away from the other couch, and you remember letting Minjeong sleep on your bed for the night. You’re staring at Renjun’s sleeping form when someone on the carpeted floor suddenly rolls over, allowing you to see their face.

Donghyuck’s sleeping on the floor beside the couch, body parallel to yours so you can see his peaceful sleeping face, mouth slightly agape. He’s now sleeping on his back, head supported by one of the cushions, body covered with his jacket from last night. You remember parting ways with him with him last night. He’d taken a taxi with Lia back to her place while the rest of you went home in Jaehyun’s SUV. You don’t remember him coming back here.

You stare at him for as long as you can, because in the last three days in Seoul, you’d never really gotten the chance to get a good look on him. You and him don’t follow each other from any social media, so the last four years had truly been radio silence from both sides. Donghyuck, at 27, doesn’t look like he’s aged that much, albeit his round cheeks being gone, replaced by prominent cheekbones. It looks like he never bothered to get rid of the constellations forming on his face and neck, too, because they’re still here, just like many things that haven’t changed. Donghyuck used to love dyeing his hair crazy colors, now his hair is just colored naturally. His lips, wonder if they still taste the same.

“He’s going to melt,” Renjun says suddenly, you plop your head back to the couch, guilty for staring too long. Renjun sits up, stretching and laughing at your misery. “And you’re going to have a heart attack if you keep sneaking glances and getting caught. How many times has Jisung caught you in the last 72 hours?”

“Shut up,” you mumble, getting up and stretching as well. “What do you want to eat for breakfast?”

You carefully get off from the couch, making sure you don’t topple on Donghyuck’s sleeping body, draping the blanket over his body, walking towards Chenle’s fancy kitchen. Renjun helps you, rummaging through the fridge, and comes up with a breakfast menu with whatever you had in the kitchen.

Donghyuck wakes up before you and Renjun could finish cooking everything. He’s quiet when he approaches you in the kitchen, softly asking if you could make coffee for him. You don’t say no, of course.

“This is the most disgusting cup of coffee, I’ve had my entire life,” Donghyuck complains, leaning over the counter where you’re working on the opposite side of. “Stop jeopardizing the café’s reputation. You’re not some scientist so stop mixing concoctions from hell just to brag that you’re a part-time barista and a full-time college student. You make me sick. Literally.”

You ignore all of it, of course, eyebrows furrowed as you take another sip of the quote and quote disgusting coffee, trying to figure out what went wrong this time.

“I think it needs a bit more vanilla,” you think out loud.

“I will not join you in this stupid crusade of making your own “Barista’s Special” recipe,” he continues. “And I will tell your manager you’re wasting coffee!”

“Aha!” you exclaim when you think you got it right. “Maybe I need to level the grounds better and add another pump of vanilla. Let me try that. It should taste better.”

Donghyuck chuckles as you move around and attempt to make another cup. “You’ve been saying it should taste better since last week.”

He keeps complaining, but takes the new cup of coffee as soon as you’re done.

Donghyuck drinks.

You wait.

It still tastes disgusting.

“It’s sweet,” Donghyuck comments when he drinks it. You tilt your head. Renjun is finishing up on the scrambled eggs. You hear Minjeong come out of your room.

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask, hopeful.

Donghyuck shakes his head, chuckling. “Better than the ones you made when we were in university.”

“Hey!” you laugh. “I was awarded employee of the month once!”

“That doesn’t erase the fact that you forced me to drink your disgusting concoctions for three weeks straight,” he states, making you laugh even more. “I guess, all these years you’d learned what you were missing.”

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble against Donghyuck’s chest. “The internship will just be for a few months. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Donghyuck kisses the top of your head. “When you come back,” he mutters. “When you come back, I’ll ask you to be my girlfriend.”

You freeze.

“And you’ll say yes. And we’ll graduate together and make a life for both of us.”

You pull away a little so that you’re looking at him face to face. Donghyuck has tears threatening to fall from his eyes. You wipe it off with the sleeves of his jacket you’re wearing.

“I’ll say yes,” you promise. “And we’ll graduate together and make a life for both of us.”

A woman’s voice announces your flight number once again and says the gates are closing in five minutes. Donghyuck kisses you in the mouth—a promise—and tells you he loves you.

“Oh, Donghyuck,” you say. “I love you, too.”

“Come back home to me, yeah?”

“I will.”

Yours and Donghyuck’s favorite restaurant was located two blocks away from his parents’ home. It closed a few years ago when its owner passed away and his children were too heartbroken to keep the business running. It was a staple from your entire high school life, and if you could say it, it defined your standards when it comes to food.

You’d just gotten a call from home that your childhood pet had to be put down because of old age and many diseases, and you called in sick for work—thank God, Johnny was willing to cover for you otherwise the manager would’ve rejected your request to stay at home for the day—and you’re truly not in the mood for anything at all.

You haven’t been home for quite sometime now, the last time being the holidays and you normally just spend a couple of days before heading back to the campus, so everything really sucks. You didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.

Donghyuck hears this from Jimin, of course, because your roommate called him as soon as she heard you crying from your room. He literally carries you out of your room, says grieving is better when there’s food.

As soon as you see the person standing behind the counter, you recognize the place right away. Although located in a different street now, nearby where you are, the place looks exactly the same from when it did years ago.

“Y/N! Donghyuckie!” the lady behind the counter greets.

“Oh my,” you squeal. “Auntie, I didn’t know you’re back in business! How long has it been?”

The new owner, the late owner’s eldest daughter, smiles at you and tells you they re-opened sometime this year. She tells you to find a seat and confirms she knew your order by heart.

Donghyuck sits across you. “You like it?”

“Why did you not take me here sooner?”

He smiles. “Supposedly on your birthday a couple of weeks from now. But with what happened today, I guess this is the best time.”

“You’re the best.”

It’s Jisung and Chenle who find you and Donghyuck by the pool area hours later. Donghyuck had completely fallen asleep on your shoulder. The younger ones help you and practically carry Donghyuck towards the car.

Jaemin and Jeno have left the venue so they could prepare for their flight the next day. You hadn’t paid much attention to the time when Donghyuck drunkenly approached you. Jisung tells you it’s already two in the morning.

Chenle tells you Donghyuck had broken up with Lia—the reason, he’s uncertain—which is why she stormed off from the reception and Donghyuck decided to drink his ass off while you were wandering around the place. You shrug, acknowledging the news like it doesn’t make your heart race, like it doesn’t give you some sort of hope you didn’t know you had stored, and tell them they should take him home.

Jisung says Donghyuck lives on the other side of the city, so it’s best you all head back to Chenle’s.

Jisung and Chenle share the latter’s bed, and you’re not going to let Donghyuck sleep on the couch after he had complained about his back hurting when he’d fallen asleep on the floor the other day, so it’s only right that you let Jisung and Chenle carry him to your bed.

When you wake up on the couch the next day, Donghyuck’s shoes are no longer by the doorsteps.

His footsteps are loud.

“Donghyuck, this isn’t going to work if you don’t fucking give me a chance to explain!” You scream a few feet behind Donghyuck.

Donghyuck is running away, and you’re beginning to think that convincing him to go to the gym might not have been the greatest decision because Donghyuck is literally sprinting, like he’s being chased by something so terrifying.

You almost stop. Donghyuck, who always called him home, never ran away from you all these years. Not, it looks like he’d rather be anywhere but where you. Nothing feels worse than that.

You’d just gotten back from your internship in the US, one more term and you’re graduating. The internship was easily the best thing that’s happened to you this year. They were already thinking of offering you a contract as soon as you graduate. They let you go back home, of course, to complete your degree, and said they’d be willing to keep training you in the states and have you relocate to Europe once you graduate because they’ll be expanding their business out there.

It's also the night of Donghyuck's first showcase, the first show he's headlining along with musicians and artists from different universities. You had promised Donghyuck you’d watch and support him, but things doesn't always go on your favor, because as soon as you’d landed, you were needed back to the campus for an interview for the university’s publishing team because they wanted you to talk about your experience alongside the others who went to the states to complete their internship. It was supposed to be an hour session, but you and everyone in the panel liked the questions they were asking, and somehow you felt like this was a sign that the company in the US could lead to better, brighter things for you.

Hence, you were late. Halfway through the show. Donghyuck got mad, but promised he understood. He asked for some space, at least for the rest of the night. But you wanted to apologize properly, to take him out for dinner even if it's already past midnight, and insisted that you should talk about it. Donghyuck refused, you kept insisting, until the former said something about you being a shitty girlfriend.

It’s a shitty excuse, but you were absolutely fucking tired. You’re still jetlagged from the 16-hour difference, and the entire session with your fellow interns took two hours of your day.

What you had left for the day was so little, and you chose to spend it with Donghyuck, but he decided to be an ass about it.

"I never said anything about being your girlfriend," was your dumb reply, which is why you’re now running after him from the building of Chenle’s condominium.

You pull Donghyuck with force as soon as you catch up with him, and you’re faced with your worst fear.

Donghyuck is crying. He’s never cried before, not because of you. A deep painful breath comes out of your mouth, and it hurts when you breathe, like inhaling a cloud of smoke or being hit by a ball in the back. Donghyuck keeps crying, doesn’t even hide it. He sobs and heaves and he doesn’t wipe his tears.

"Donghyuck, can you just—”

“I’m tired,” Donghyuck sobs. “Y/N, I’m so tired. I sound pathetic and I’m not sure if I’m exhausted from the performance or I’m just done with you.”

“I’m sorry,” is all what you could come up with.

“This,” Donghyuck says, gesturing the small space between you. “I don’t think it’s worth all of the pain I am feeling right now, Y/N. You’re my best friend. I—I, fuck, I used to think that maybe someday this will all be worth it, but I am tired of waiting for that day. I am drained and you have consumed all of me. I waited for you, and I keep waiting until you finally just—let go and decide you want to be with me and stop playing this never-ending game of friends with benefits bullshit we started. I’m done. What else do you want from me?”

“I—I… Donghyuck,” you stutter. I want you to give me a chance. I want you to give me more time to figure some things out myself. I want you to wait a little longer.

"I rejected Ryujin a week before you came home,” Donghyuck confesses. "When you were in the states, and you suddenly changed your mind about being my girlfriend and told me I should go out and date other people and that I shouldn’t hold myself back, I was angry. I didn’t understand why you were pushing me away so much when I’m here!”

You stay still, crying.

“I’m here,” he repeats. “I’m here and I love you, and I’ve never asked anything in return. And you tell me you love me, but you do things that—that hurt me. Every time I think we’re finally going somewhere, you—you push back and I’m just—I’m sick of it. And Jaemin said I should just move on if you can’t make up your mind because I don’t know if you haven’t realized it but Y/N, we’ve been at it for years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Jeno and Jaemin set me up with Ryujin,” he continues. “We went to a couple of dates. And then you called me saying you’re coming back home. So, I broke it off before we even got started. I told her it would be unfair if I kept leading her on when I know that I am still ridiculously in love with you. She said it would be alright and that she's giving me all the time and space I need to think about things."

Donghyuck curses and continues, "But I didn't need time and space, Y/N. Because I already knew that all I've ever wanted was you. I didn't need to think. I only needed you."

You don’t know what to say. You’re still holding him by his arm.

“If you're not going to say anything, let me go,” Donghyuck sternly says. You have a feeling it’s not the grip on his arm that Donghyuck is talking about. “Please.”

The single biggest mistake of your life happened on the third street from Chenle’s place, under the broken streetlight, across the ice cream parlor Donghyuck used to work at when he was seventeen.

You let him go. Donghyuck stops waiting.

The wait from the audience was long enough.

They say your graduation day is going to be one of the happiest moments in your life. It’s not. Not at all.

Not when you’d gotten your diploma on stage and Donghyuck shows you he doesn’t give a fuck by looking everywhere else. Not when it’s picture taking time with your friends and families and he decides to stand on the other side, far, far away from you. Not when his parents ask him to take a picture with you and he shrugs it off and says he’s hungry and that he’s meeting everyone at the restaurant, leaving with his entire family.

Renjun whispers, “Does he even know you’re leaving first thing in the morning?”

You shrug it off, too. “Looks like he has other things to care about.”

Jaemin sighs. “You’re not serious about this, are you? You and Donghyuck better pull your shit together. Both of you already ruined the moment for everyone.”

Renjun eyes him. “It’s not your fault, Y/N. If Donghyuck doesn’t want to listen, then so be it.”

“It’s not Donghyuck’s fault either,” Jaemin defends. “Because he’s been trying to get answers and you wouldn’t give it to him. So, I don’t think it’s his fault that he’s done.”

“We’re not picking sides here, Jaemin,” Jeno says. “Let’s go.”

Jeno and Jaemin sandwiches you in a tight hug.

The next day after the wedding, in the afternoon, the newlyweds are bound to France for their honeymoon. They’re traveling the continent for two weeks (unfortunately, London excluded from their itinerary), and all of you decided to drop them off as if they’re leaving for years. In your case, this may be the last time you’re seeing them for a long time.

“I love you,” Jaemin says as the two very strong and buff men hug you. “I know things have been tough and coming back here took a lot from you, but thank you for making sure you were present during the wedding.”

“I hope this isn’t the last time in another four years that we’d see you in person,” Jeno adds. “We miss you, you know? Please come visit us when you have time.”

“I love you two so much,” you cry, emotional with the way they’re holding you. “Go have fun.”

They bid their goodbyes to everyone else and enter the airport.

“If I don’t get the same treatment when I leave, I’m ghosting everyone,” Mark announces. Jisung laughs. “What? You all acted like they’re going away for two years. They’re coming back in literally and exactly two weeks!”

“Go be unhappy somewhere, hyung,” Donghyuck teases, making everyone laugh as you all walk back to where their cars are parked.

Chenle needs to go back to work, so did Jimin and Jisung, hence they ride all together. Minjeong’s visiting a friend, so she’s riding with Mark and Renjun because they’re all going to the same side of the city. Which means, Donghyuck is driving you back to Chenle’s place.

“Your flight is tomorrow, too, right?” Mark asks. You hum, nodding. “Come visit me in Vancouver sometime soon, too. Or I’ll fly to London.”

“Wow, you have a lot of money to spend on flying around the world multiple times, huh?” you tease.

“Hey, you’re the frequent flyer here,” he comments. “Wonder how many miles you’ve earned and redeemed from all this flying you’ve done in this lifetime.”

You laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mark.”

Renjun and the others bid you goodbye. You’re not really certain why you and Donghyuck silently agreed to watch your friends leave, you and him standing a foot away from each other as they all drive away. For some reason, it feels like the last time.

The first time it happened, you and Donghyuck decide it’s an accident.

You were drunk, and it had been a while for the two of you considering how busy you both have been because of finals coming up. It was convenient, if you say so yourself, to have your best friend right beside you when you were feeling hot and horny. The morning after was settled with a kiss on your forehead—no apologies as discussed, because neither you nor him regretted it anyway, but there’s a promise that nothing changes.

The second time it happened, you and Donghyuck decide it’s not going to be a one-time thing.

“So, to make it clear,” you huff as you quickly get rid of your pants while Donghyuck pulls his shirt off. “This isn’t a one-time thing.”

“I don’t see an issue if it’s not,” he replies, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down, pushing you against the wall and kissing you down your neck. “Besides, we’re best friends.”

You lean your head against the wall, thinking if it’s too late to back out, but Donghyuck’s already has his hands all over you—one on your breast and the other on your waist. It’s not really that bad of an idea. Donghyuck is your best friend, and your friendship has withstood time, distance, growing pains, and mostly everything. And perhaps it’s the way you haven’t stopped thinking about your first time together that’s making you feel so, so vulnerable under his touch, but it’s not like anything’s changed since that night. In fact, if you’re being completely honest, it made you feel like you and Donghyuck know each other better now—in ways that other pairs like you don’t.

Hence, whatever thought you had a minute ago, you throw it down the drain and you let Donghyuck (messily, heartedly giggling) carry you by hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist and bring you back to his unmade bed.

Donghyuck knows how to use his tongue, and you’ve kind of always known because all the girls he’s ever slept with talk about him like he’s a god of tongue or something. Donghyuck licks your lips before diving in, as if he’s giving you a taste of what you’re about to have, and he pushes his tongue in, massaging it with yours, and it almost feels like he’s teaching you how to use the muscle in your mouth. You realize how much he likes kissing, because he kisses more than he touches. He kisses you for what felt like hours, and you’re not about to complain about it.

You let him gently drop you on his bed. His warm palms caressing its way from your waist down to the side of your thighs where he knows you like being touched the most (and you’re not certain whether he’d learned this from stories or from the time you and him had sex); Donghyuck keeps his mouth on you as he rubs circles against your hot skin.

The finger he slips between your underwear and right above your clit sends you shivers down your spine. He allows you to catch your breath for a second, moving his mouth from your lips down to your neck, but doesn’t give you enough time to recover because he rubs your clit oh, so gently.

“We’re best friends,” he repeats, murmuring the words against the skin on your neck. “Nothing changes, except now I know where to touch you.”

He does. He touches you everywhere and slips his middle finger in your hole, sighing against your skin when he feels how wet you’ve gotten simply from kissing.

“You’ve always been such a good girl for me,” he whispers, keeping his finger inside, his palm pressed against your clit. “Such a good girl. Wet and ready for me. You really are my best friend.”

“Donghyuck,” you whine. He starts rubbing from inside, moving a single finger in an upward motion, eliciting a moan from you.

“What?” he asks innocently. “You are. You are my best friend. I don’t think everyone can say they let their best friends fuck them when they’re horny. Which makes me the best best friend, too. Because I fuck the brains out of you when you’re horny. Aren’t we the best team the world has ever seen?”

Donghyuck slips another finger in—easily, because nothing can describe how we you are now. He tongues the skin on your collarbone, licking and tasting and smirking all throughout, then he fingers you properly. At this point, your underwear’s stretched from one thigh to the other.

Donghyuck likes to tease you, and you know this because he massages the inside of your hole in a swift upward motion before pulling his fingers out and slowly filling you again. He does this slowly, then fast, then slowly once again. The explicit sound of your wetness makes him chuckle, leaving your collarbones and using his other hand to pull the left cup of your bra down and goes in. He bites and nips and licks and sucks your breast while he fingers you stupid—legs apart, shamelessly wet and fucking ready for him—and you take everything he gives you.

He doesn’t make you cum though, because Donghyuck is Donghyuck. Nobody is more cunning than him.

But he doesn’t make you wait. As soon as he feels you’re about to cum, he slips his fingers out and rids himself off his own underwear, then slipping the last two pieces barely hanging on your body.

He fucks you dumb. Raw. All his glory and skin. You have no other words aside from that.

He doesn’t wait because there’s truly no need to adjust with how wet and ready you fucking are. He’s big, but Donghyuck knows how to fuck well. He knows how to prevent discomfort and he’s done a very good job at proving that to you.

He fucks you missionary, and usually, this isn’t something you’d opt for. You like being fucked hard with no sense of affection and all that bullshit when you’re stressed and in need of some kind of relief. But with Donghyuck, it’s heavenly despite how sinful his hips snap.

He fucks you. Again and again. He makes you cum twice before he pulls out and spills himself on your stomach.

He kisses you, giggles at the way you’re dumbfounded, cleans you up, and lets you sleep on his bed as though nothing has changed.

Because nothing did. Nothing ever will.

“Funny how things have changed so much in the last four years, huh?” Donghyuck asks, eyes on the road.

Donghyuck’s said he’s driving you home. You haven’t been in Seoul in four years, but the route he’s taking is definitely not the way to Chenle’s.

“We’re taking the long way home,” he interjects when he realizes you’re looking at the GPS on his car’s tablet. “There’s, uh, heavy traffic on the usual way because of some road construction. And you’re going back tomorrow. You haven’t really gone around the city, so I figured it’d be a good time.”

You hum, looking at him with a small smile.

“Sure,” you buy. “It feels like only yesterday you were driving a beat-up Hyundai. Now, you’re all fancy.”

He chuckles, turning as his car speeds through the bridge. “Well, many things have changed since you left.”

Donghyuck looks beautiful like this: Seoul’s horizon running like a movie as he drives, smile soft, eyes bright.

“I’m sorry,” you brave up.

It takes you great courage to say it out loud. As best friends, you and Donghyuck had always said “thank you,” and “I love you” openly, and in countless of occasions, these words have healed scratches made around your friendship. Rarely you and him would ever say you’re sorry. The only time you can remember apologizing to him was the night, a few weeks before graduation when you’d just returned from the States after your internship. That sorry barely made up the wounds you’d caused.

At this age, you understand why saying sorry wasn’t normal for you and Donghyuck. You and him were inseparable. You were soulmates—are if you can bravely say it out loud. Your bond is stronger with him than anyone else, and you’d always believed that nothing could ever come between you and him. Like the decisions you’d made, nothing changed until something did. And when things changed, you and him had no idea what to do. Because as far as you can remember, you and Donghyuck remained constant, like a routine, a bible with a comprehensive and cohesive series of stories that’s never changed. So, when feelings got in between—denial and pining and confusion—neither of you had any idea how to handle it.

Donghyuck was bold and brave. You, on the other hand, had no ounce of courage to give it a try.

He only smiles. “A few years too late, don’t you think?”

You nod. “I know. Do you accept my apology?”

“If you buy me ice cream,” he answers.

“Done,” you say, smiling back at him. “I was scared.”

Donghyuck keeps his eyes on the road. “Of?”

“That I’d come back to Seoul and see you married with kids and all.”

“And what’s so scary about that?”

“Because it would mean I’d thrown away all the chances the universe has given me.”

Donghyuck looks ethereal like this: in a suit, smiling as he watches his bride walk down the aisle.

“Take care, yeah?” Renjun whispers as he hugs you.

Mark’s Dad and Mark himself are waiting for you outside. As most of your friends have gone home to their families after graduation, with the exception of Renjun and Jisung who spared some time today just to see you off, Mark volunteered (his dad) to drop you off the airport.

“I will,” you say, burying your face into his chest. “Any word from Donghyuck?”

Renjun pulls away and looks down. You know the answer.

“It’s okay,” you answer, mostly to yourself. “He’ll call me back soon. I’m sure.”

“I hope so,” Renjun mumbles.

The only call you get before you enter the gates is a drunken one. It’s Donghyuck.

“I hate you,” he grits through the device. “And I never want to see you again.”

“I didn’t want to come back,” you confess. Donghyuck keeps his hands on the steering wheel. “Because you’d said you never wanted to see me again.”

“And I sent you messages you never received,” Donghyuck says. It surprises you. “Because your Korean number was no longer active and you’d blocked me from everything at that time.”

You smile, wondering if you had a little bit more understanding—if you had waited a little before deactivating your old number, if you had given it some time—would you and Donghyuck end up together in the end? If Donghyuck hadn’t been drunk the night you left Seoul—if he’d taken a taxi before you boarded the plane, if he’d just said sorry back—would you and him have gotten into a relationship right away?

Regret, just like grief, makes you feel things like this. They make you wonder what could have happened, if it would’ve given you the same, awful outcome, or if it would take you to the happy ending you keep dreaming about.

“Funny how we had many things we couldn’t say despite us being best friends,” he comments. “And you agree that many things have changed in the last four years, right?”

You hum, looking out your window, watching the horizon blur in motion.

“Donghyuck-ah,” you whisper, eyes still on the moving horizon. “The only thing that hasn’t changed for me.”

“What?” he asks.

“You,” you say. “You’re the only one that hasn’t changed for me. You’re still sharp when you need to be, but gentle where people you love need you to be. You’re still beautiful like the day I had realized I loved you. It wasn’t shocking, though. That day. I wasn’t all too shocked that your newly-dyed pink hair was the eureka moment for me. Because I knew all along. It was more like a flick on the wrist rather than a surprise. Like it’s always been there. The pink hair was just a reminder.”

Donghyuck stays quiet.

“And I say this like I’m hoping I could go back to four years ago and try harder to apologize,” you continue, tears already brimming your eyes. “But I guess we needed this, Donghyuck. We needed to grow—sadly—apart. And I feel like, no, I know that I wouldn’t have gotten to know myself better if we didn’t grow apart.”

“Yeah,” he speaks for what seems like a long time. “We were—you were right all along. We couldn’t just risk it all for a relationship. I had offers left and right even before we’d graduated, and you.”

You look at him. Donghyuck’s eyes are carefully still on the road, but his gaze is soft, eyes shining from the tears welling up.

“You were made to see the world,” he says, and it breaks you like glass. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I were the reason why you don’t have the life you have now. Because it wouldn’t have worked. I love you, and I just know that at that time, when we were young and all, I wouldn’t have let you go work abroad. The few months you spent in the state for a mere internship already shook our friendship in ways we didn’t expect. What more if we had been in a relationship?”

“Donghyuck,” you sniffle. “I love you. And it hurt. And I’m sorry it us this long. I’m sorry it took me this long.”

“Stop apologizing. Y/N, I would’ve let you go eventually,” he confesses. “Because I love you so much that I’d be willing to let you go if it meant you could soar.”

The sun sets in the horizon the next time you look out your window.

Donghyuck keeps one hand on the wheel and shows you the other, palm up.

You take it with courage.

And you. You look beautiful like this: dressed in white, smiling as you walk towards your groom. You best friend. Donghyuck.

504 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 9 months

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Twelve

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R-ish

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This chapter contains vague allusions to physical abuse/abusive past relationship. Some sex mentions. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~3.2k

A/N : This is set about a week after the last chapter. It's mostly angst and a little bit more about readers past. Billy kinda fucks up in this one.

CHAPTER TWELVE

It felt strange to long for someone you hardly knew, to miss having him close when you’d only been intimate for a couple of weeks. But, without Billy, you felt a strange sort of loneliness that should have terrified you, the sort of yearning you’d completely given up on before you’d let him force his way into your life.

Days had continued to tick by with nothing but text messages and phone calls passing between you, leaving you longing to feel his arms around you again. You tried everything to push the feelings away; reading, catching up with old TV shows, anything that didn’t make you think of him.

But, the moment he told you that he’d be working from home and that you could stay over, you agreed, biking across Manhattan as soon as you finished your day.

He was waiting for you the moment the elevator doors slid open, kissing you and tugging off your clothes as he pressed you back against the wall. He fucked you like it had been six years and not six days since you’d last seen him, leaving you a trembling mess and reminding you just what you’d been missing out on all week.

Eventually, once he managed to finally put you down and take his hands off you, you found yourself on his sofa, eating Chinese take out while he sat with his laptop and tried to get some work done. Now and then, he’d shoot you an apologetic look - obviously, it wasn’t how he’d wanted the evening to go, but you were perfectly happy where you were, enjoying the food and just being near him. You distracted yourself by trying to finish reading the trashy romance novel you’d brought on the Kindle app on your phone.

When you needed a drink, you stood, heading for the kitchen, trying not to disturb Billy. You didn’t think twice about leaving your phone on the sofa, unlocked and on the page you were in the middle of reading - your first mistake of the evening.

“Her fingers sizzled a path to my cock,” his words caught you by surprise, and so did the laugh that followed, “sweetheart, if you’d wanted something to read, I could’ve found you a much better book than this horny trash.”

You turned back to him, feigning indignation; “I’ll have you know that horny trash is the only thing that’s been getting me through the last few days.”

He put down his laptop on the coffee table and slowly got to his feet, your phone still in his hand.

“You think a smutty book is a good substitute for me?” His dark eyes fixed on you, looking at you like he was thinking of all the things he wanted to do to you. You stepped away from the kitchen, back towards him, waiting for him to clear the distance between you and take what he wanted. “Does this stuff really get you going? Does it get you wet?”

You bit your lower lip, trying to to stop your lips from pulling into a smirk, but it was impossible.

“Have you spent this whole week with your fingers between your legs reading this?” Billy asked, stepping closer still. You bit down on your lip even harder, your cheeks starting to heat, before you managed to shake your head. “No?”

“Not my fingers,” you admitted softly, “and it wasn’t the book I was thinking about...”

“Not your fingers?” Your head shook again and he took a step closer. You might as well have been naked with the way he was looking at you, his eyes burning with desire. “Then what were you using while you were thinking about me?”

“My vibrator,” not sure why admitting to owning a sex toy to someone like Billy felt so scandalous.

“Fuck, sweetheart, if I’d known you’d been missing me so much I would’ve spent the last hour inside you, reminding you why nothing but me is ever gonna satisfy your sweet little pussy,” his voice turned low, uncontrolled. “Guess I’m gonna have to make up for lost time now...”

Your eyes dropped, noticing the way his sweatpants were already starting to tent, relieved that the conversation was getting to him just as much as it was you.

“What about you?” You dare to ask.

“What about me?”

“How much did you miss me?”

“You mean did I jerk off thinking about you?” He asked and you nodded. “Every night with those red lace panties you gave me.”

You breath caught at the admission and the look on his face, and you found yourself trying to picture it. Staring, you silently willed him to clear the distance between you and give you both what you clearly wanted. But Billy didn’t move, he seemed more interested in the moment you were sharing and wanted to see how far he could push it.

“I get hard just thinking about you, sweetheart,” he continued to confess, “I can’t stop thinking about you on your knees, sucking my cock.”

You made a show of licking your lips, despite the embarrassment you were enjoying watching him slowly lose control. He wanted you to break first, but you weren’t going to make it easy for him. “Yeah? You liked that?”

“You know I did,” he all but growled, knowing what you were trying to do to him. “You liked it too, didn’t you? You were so fucking wet when I got you home...”

You nodded almost shyly. As much as you wanted to carry on, you weren’t like Billy, dirty talk didn’t come easily to you, but you still managed; “want me to do it again, right now?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I want you to get on your knees and -”

But then your phone started to ring in his hand and the game quickly came to an end. You watched as he looked at the screen, the smile vanishing from his lips.

“Who’s Sam?” He asked with an unexpected sharpness that caused your stomach to knot.

“Don’t answer it,” you begged quickly, suddenly. With your hand outstretched you moved towards him, needing him to give you your phone back. But Billy wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the name on the screen and the picture that went with it.

The ringing soon stopped, but Billy didn’t give your phone back. Instead he started swiping at the screen, obviously looking for something. Your stomach dropped, realising that your phone was still unlocked and he had access to everything on there.

“Billy, give me my phone back, it’s not -” you tried to talk around the lump that had lodged itself in your throat.

“Call me back,” he started to read from your phone, obviously scrolling through the dozens of unanswered text messages Sam had sent, “we need to talk. I love you but I’m sick of this shit. Don’t make me come get you. Talk to me. We had a deal.”

“It’s not what you think,” you tried again, reaching for your phone. Billy stepped back, keeping hold of your phone.

“And what do you think I think?” He asked, his tone enough to make you flinch. “‘cause I think forty-seven missed calls today, and fifty-two yesterday means someone really wants to talk to you.”

“It’s not like that -”

“Oh, isn’t it? So you get guys telling you that they love you all the time, calling you non-stop and begging you to talk to them?” It almost felt like he was mocking you, like he thought you were an idiot for even trying to convince that there was nothing going on.

“Billy, please, just listen to me...”

If he heard you, he didn’t seem to care. “Is this what does it for you? Is this why you finally said yes to me? Did I chase you enough, make you feel special? You just like the attention?”

“Stop it, just -” you raised your voice, desperate to make him listen, to make him hear you out.

“Is this what you want? You want me to lose my mind over you? Will you start ignoring my calls when you’re done with me?” Something almost frantic started to slip into his tone.

“No, Billy, I -”

It was clear to see that he was spiralling out of control, that the thought of you with another man made him lose his mind. And it hurt - it hurt that he wouldn’t listen to you, that he thought you’d do anything to hurt him like that.

“If I obsess over you enough, do I get my initials carved on your body somewhere? Will you let me pick where?”

You stepped backwards, an uncomfortable breath catching in your throat. It only took Billy a second to realise his mistake. There was no confusing the sudden look of terror on your face or the way that your whole body tensed as you started to back away from him. Your eyes stayed fixed on him, wide and afraid, your lungs burning as they struggled to draw breath.

Billy seemed frozen as the pieces fell into place and he finally understood; you hadn’t carved the S into your arm. Someone else had, against your will.

And, now, despite everything about him that made you feel safe, despite every time you’d told yourself that he wouldn’t hurt you, you were overcome with fear.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t -” you flinched as he took a step, “- I didn’t mean that. I’d never -”

“Please stop,” you uttered quietly, voice breaking as you blinked back tears. You didn’t want to talk about it, not now, not ever.

“I didn’t know, you didn’t tell me - why didn’t you tell me?” A panicked anguish quickly filled his voice and, at any other time, you might have felt for him, but all you could do was continue to shrink away from him. “Tell me who did it - tell me, I’ll fucking kill him.”

The spike of anger in his voice did nothing to settle your frayed nerves. You knew it wasn’t aimed at you, but you had no doubt in that moment that Billy was capable of murder, and that he’d kill anyone who’d hurt you. But you didn’t want Billy involved, you didn’t want him to know about any of your scars or where they had come from.

“Was it this guy? This Sam?” He held up your phone, his knuckles turning white as he dared to step closer. Even though his anger wasn’t directed at you anymore, it still scared you.

You shook your head. “Sam’s my brother.”

Another secret spilled, another thing you hadn’t wanted him to know.

“You have a brother? I thought you said -”

You moved suddenly, before Billy could reach you - he was between you and the elevator, so leaving wasn’t an option, but you needed space, you needed to be able to breathe. He called your name and you heard him following after you as you ducked into his bedroom and headed for the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

The moment the door was shut, you sank to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest.

“I’m sorry, I -” you could hear him on the other side of the door, but he didn’t rattle the handle, didn’t knock or try to get to you. From the broken tone of his voice, you knew that he was upset and, as much as you might have hated that at any other time, Billy’s upset was not your priority. “I’m a fucking idiot, I’m sorry. I - I never meant -”

You took a long breath, counting back from ten, trying to remember any of the coping mechanisms you’d worked on in therapy so many years ago. Despite the tears in the corners of your eyes, the last thing you wanted was to cry - you’d cried too many tears over the scars on your arms over the years and you weren’t going to shed any more. You were stronger than that, you’d spent years becoming stronger than that.

“Please, talk to me?”

You still didn’t answer. You couldn’t, it felt like you could hardly breathe.

He was pacing, you could hear it through the door. “I’d never hurt you - you know I’d never hurt you, right? I couldn’t, I -”

Still, you said nothing. A moment later there was a loud thud and you heard his footsteps moving away from the door and out of the bedroom.

As you sat, you tried to deconstruct everything that had happened, why it had upset you and whether it was reasonable to be upset about it; Billy going through your phone without permission (yeah, it was reasonable to be upset at that), him getting upset about Sam (yes and no, you probably could have handled that a little better), and the comment about that scar (yes but, again, he hadn’t known the full story).

But, the thing that worried you, the thing that had you panicked, was just how quickly it had escalated and how he hadn’t even tried to hear your side of things. Did you think that he could hurt you? No. But whether that was you being stupid and naive, you didn’t know. All you really knew was that something inside you felt safe with Billy, something inside you told you that he’d never hurt you, and perhaps that was the best place to start.

It took twenty minutes before you worked up the courage to stand and another five before you could bring yourself to open the bathroom door. Billy was nowhere to be seen but, to your surprise, he’d left your phone on the floor in front of the bathroom door.

You grabbed your bag from the foot of the bed and carried it with you, but you didn’t head for the elevator. You weren’t going to run away.

Billy was standing by the windows, looking out at the view, looking every bit as lost and alone as you felt.

“We - we should talk,” you said softly, just to draw his attention.

He turned, but he didn’t move towards you. He kept his distance, as if he didn’t trust himself anymore. When he caught sight of the bag in your hand, Billy let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding like he knew he’d already lost.

“I know you are.”

“I didn’t mean -”

“Yes you did, Billy.” It wasn’t your intention to hurt him but there was no missing the flicker of pain on his face. He’d been upset, but he’d meant every word that he’d said to you, and you needed him to acknowledge that. “But what hurts is that you saw those messages and just assumed that I’d do that to you.”

“I know, I shouldn’t’ve, I just...” you could see the struggle on his face as he tried to find the words, tried to find a way to explain something that you weren’t even sure he could explain. You were starting to think it was just how he was wired - but that didn’t mean you had to accept it. “This isn’t easy for me.”

“Which part? Because it’s not exactly a walk in the park for me either.”

“I don’t do this,” which didn’t make it any clearer, but the frustration in his voice was unmissable.

“There is no this, Billy. You didn’t want this to be a relationship. We’re just - I don’t know, us.”

“Yeah, just us.”

There was something in the way he said it that had your heart sinking and it took a moment for the penny to finally drop.

“You wanna fuck other women, is that it?” And suddenly it all seemed pointless. “Of course you do, why wouldn’t you? Why would I ever think you might settle for me?” Because, of course, a man like Billy wouldn’t settle for you, scars and all.

You started to move towards the elevator, telling yourself that, this time, it wasn’t running away; you’d tried to talk to him, tried to figure it out, and leaving was the only option that remained. As much as it hurt, you couldn’t stay knowing that he’d never be satisfied with you, and that he clearly didn’t feel a fraction of what you felt when you were with him. (It was your own fault, you shouldn’t have let yourself feel anything at all for a man like Billy, you’d known from the start that it would end badly.)

“Stop -” he suddenly started to move towards you, “- I don’t want to fuck anyone else, that’s not what I meant. And I’m not settling, you’re the only one I want.” He forced the words out in an angry and uncomfortable admission - he didn’t even manage to look like he believed it himself.

“I’d be flattered if you didn’t sound like it bothered you so fucking much.” You spat back, just as angry.

“Of course it bothers me. I don’t know how to not fuck this up. I don’t know how to not make you leave me.”

“My suggestion would be doing anything but this.” You reached the elevator doors, but you didn’t push the call button - you couldn’t bring yourself to end things, not while he was still talking.

“So, that’s it - we’re back to this?”

“Back to what?”

“You, pushing me away, not talking to me.”

“I can’t do this if you don’t trust me.” You told him.

“I’m trying, but you don’t trust me either, do you?”

You wanted to answer immediately, to tell him of course you trusted him, but it wasn’t that simple. He was right, you didn’t trust him, not completely - you didn’t trust anyone completely. You couldn't, you’d been hurt too many times before. And maybe Billy had been too.

“Why don’t you do this - why don’t you want a relationship?” You dared to ask and Billy looked away almost as if he was ashamed.

“Because everyone leaves eventually? Because what I can offer always stops being enough... I don’t know.” He sounded resigned to it, like there really was no other way that he saw things panning out.

“And you think that’d happen with us? That I’d just leave you?”

He looked at you for a second before letting his gaze drop again. “You’re doing it right now.”

“That isn’t fair. You know why I’m leaving.” You wanted to be firm, wanted him to know that you were leaving because of his actions, not because of who he was but, instead, the words came out quiet, soft.

Billy didn’t answer, he looked defeated, like he’d given up. He didn’t talk again until you’d hit the call button and the elevator doors slid open.

“So, we’re done then?”

Were you? You hesitated, hating how quickly everything had fallen apart - how easily you’d both let it fall apart. Maybe it was just how things were meant to be; maybe neither of you were capable of sustaining whatever this was. But -

“No - I don’t know,” was the most honest answer you could give. “I just - I need some time, Billy. Can you give me that?”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “A few days maybe?”

“Okay,” he shrugged in return, looking like he’d already given up.

By the time you’d stepped into the elevator and hit the button, he’d already turned away from you. Billy didn’t say a word as the doors shut and you left him all alone. Somehow, you managed not to break down and cry until you’d made it back across the city and into the comfort of your own bed.

Chapter Thirteen

A/N : Well... I originally wanted to try and time things so I could have nice chapters come out over the holidays, but then this happened. Sorry! It really wasn't my intention to end the year on a downer, but don't worry, the next part is pretty much finished and will be up the same time next week!!

Anyway, I hope you're all doing well and, as always I really do appreciate all the love you've shown this series!!!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it hasn't been working for some people so I've tried to remove and add people again to see if that help but, other than that, I think it's just tumblr being lame?)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @damagelove @danzer8705 @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote @bisexualbith @uncontainedsmiles @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lilliesofmay

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #cmiyc ff

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obsessedelusional · 2 years

Text

Your Own Little Secret

parings ✦ eddie x reader

summary ✦ Chrissy asks a favor of you which somehow leads to you forming a secret relationship with Eddie Munson. When you two make it official, you decide it’s time to make it public.

authors note ✦ first time writing smut so hopefully it’s not terrible lol appreciate any feedback or reblogs

masterlist

The last three weeks of your life were spent entangled in Eddie’s web. It all started when Chrissy asked if you could meet him the woods to pick up her weekly pickup from none other than Eddie Munson. It came to a surprise to you when she confided in you that she smoked, even more of a surprise that it happened so often. She never gave off that type of vibe but you felt honored she trusted you enough to let you in on her little secret. So you reluctantly agreed which lead you to having your own little secret; Eddie.

Chrissy’s mother picked her up early from school when she had plans to meet Eddie out in the woods after cheer practice. A quick phone call lead to you meeting him in the woods. You had just left the gymnasium where cheer practice was held still in your practice cheer shorts and school branded t-shirt. Walking through the forest on a small dirt path. You had never been back here before, this area which had a reputation where students would disappear to hookup with each other. Or exchange cash for weed, apparently.

As you walk down the unfamiliar path all you can think about is how your on your way to buy weed. Your mind races, slightly terrified but Chrissy reassured you she’d done this 100 times and there was absolutely nothing to worry about. Expecting to see Eddie when the path opens up to a clear area of the forest. Only a few metal tables sat in the center. Unsure of what to do you sat down at one, looking around for any sign of him. The sound of leaves being stepped on startles you.

“Not the cheerleader I was expecting to see out here.” Eddie says from behind you, your nerves growing. He quickly walks up behind you and sits right next to you, an unsure smile on his face.

Uncomfortably laughing your hands resting in front you, “Chrissy sent me in replacement. Her mom picked her up early so she couldn’t make it. Said I could drop it off at hers on my way home. I have cash, she said twenty would be enough, is it enough?” You notice Eddie staring all while you physically can’t shut up. He must of noticed how anxious you are because his hands rest with yours. “Sorry I don’t know why I’m rambling.”

“Are you okay? You seem nervous.” He smiles causing you to smile back. Pulling away to start rummaging through the small metal tin he brought with him.

“Just slightly terrified.”

“Of?” He asks curiously, trying to read you.

“You and this whole situation.”

“Me?” He gasps grabbing his heart, pretending to be upset. Immediately you start to profusely apologizing thinking you actually hurt his feelings. Once he realizes how worked up you got he bursts out into laughter. “I’m just givin’ ya shit.”

You roll your eyes in response, slapping his shoulder. He winches like he’s so much pain, pain spreads across his face. “I’m not falling for your theatrics again.”

“Fine,” he sighs giving up on his little show. A few moments of silence fall between you two. “So she want her regular?”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“And she knows my name?” He sounds genuinely surprised.

“Of course I do.”

“That’s crazy.”

“My first day at Hawkins, my freshman year. I approached you and asked you where the office was and you so kindly escorted me. Of course I remember you.”

“Then you said you’d see me around. I never saw you around.” He sighs dramatically.

“Thats the same day I met Chrissy. We’ve been inseparable since. Sorry.” You genuinely feel bad it’s been two years since you last spoke to Eddie. It’s not like you didn’t think of him from time to time. He was constantly making a scene where ever he went, couldn’t help but notice him. Couldn’t help but admire how he was so authentically himself, never cared who was around. Also didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes. So when he was flaunting around the cafeteria you’d always take that opportunity to stare. Plus on several occasions you’d get Jason to back off.

“It’s fine. You can make it up to me now.” He smiles softly pulling you out of your own thoughts.

“How so?”

“Let me take you out.” He tries so hard to read you reaction.

“Really?”

“I mean unless you don’t want too.” When you didn’t instantly say yes he wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“I do.”

“You do?” Eddie can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah.” You smile. Eddie jumps up from his seat and starts cheering.

“Sorry that was lame.”

“No it wasn’t.” You laugh.

—

After a few dates around town and you two were attached. Everyday after cheer practice he’d be waiting for you, stood outside his van. You’d run up and engulf him in a hug. His hands never failing to find their way to your ass. Seeing you in those cheer shorts drove him crazy. When Friday rolled around and you’d show up to school wearing that cheer uniform, it would drive Eddie absolutely nuts. He’d watch from afar so turned on counting down the minutes till he could have you all to himself.

Today was no different when he picked you up after the football game claiming that they weren’t his scene hence why he wasn’t there to watch you cheering. It was late and knowing that you didn’t have long before your parents would be calling asking where you were. You two wasted no time. As soon as you climbed into his passenger seat, his hands were all over you. Roaming every inch of your body. You pull away momentarily only to move to the back.

Eddie laid down to which you quickly straddle him. His hand slipped under your skirt, through your underwear and between your folds. “So fucking wet for me.”

“For you.” You purr, letting your self grind down on his hand. “But I want to please you.” He didn’t argue, watching closely as you slowly lowered your self. You unzip his pants, he dick already hard trapped in his jeans. Palming it through the thin layer of his boxers. Eddie’s whole body tenses under your touch. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. Having you to himself in the most intimate way possible.

You pull his boxers down revealing his large member. Using your hand to pump him, precum slipping out of his tip. Eddie groans under your touch, giving you the confidence you need to give a sweet kiss to his tip before devouring it. Sucking up and down, Eddie’s hands finding their way to the back of your head pushing down. You gag and push up, spitting the salvia building up at the back of your throat on his member before going back at it.

He doesn’t want it to stop but he needs it to stop other wise he’ll be coming in your mouth. Which he wouldn’t mind but he wanted desperately to be inside you. He lifts your face and pulls you closer to kiss you, making out for several moments. Your tongues fighting for dominance. “I need you now.” You murmur, pulling down your panties. Aligning his cock with you cunt, sliding down slowly taking him all in.

“Fuck.” Eddie moans, his voice raspy. You start riding him, up and down. Grinding on him, his hands slip under your shirt caressing your tits. You take the hint and remove your cheer shirt exposing your chest. Pulling you closer he takes your nipple into his mouth, the other one being fondled. You become a moaning mess under his touch. The sound of your nipple leaving his mouth makes a popping sound.

Eddie comes to realization he’s not gonna last much longer but he’s a gentleman so obviously you need to come first. He helps you switch positions, pulling his pants all the way off and now he’s on top. You can’t help but whine when his cock leaves your hole. Doesn’t take long before he slams his cock back between your folds, you cry out in pleasure. His fingers start rubbing your clit as he picks up the pace. “How does that feel princess?”

Your lack of response tells him everything he needs to know. He circles your clit over and over again, the feeling of your pussy tightening on his dick let’s him know it’s near. Doesn’t take long before your climaxing. Shortly after that he’s pulling out and cumming on your stomach. He kisses you softly before reaching for a rag and cleaning you off. You get dress back in your uniform as you watch Eddie get back into his clothing.

Eddie lays next to you and you rest your head on his chest wrapping your arm around him waist and attempt to regain your composure. “You’re so fucking amazing. How’d I get so damn lucky?”

“Just being you.” You smile.

“Is that enough though?” He questions a change his tone is noted. Eddie decides in this moment to talk to you about what he’s been wondering for some time now.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I feel like your ashamed of me.” Eddie sighs.

“Why do you think that?” You ask saddened by his tone. You sit up so you can see his face.

“Because I only see you after school and never in front of your friends.”

“I just figured you wouldn’t want to be around them. I tried to invite you to games and stuff but you never seemed interested. I didn’t realize you wanted more than whatever this is. Part of me thought you were ashamed of me.” You explain.

“What is this?” Eddie asks the question he’s been dreading.

“What do you want us to be?” You ask pushing it back onto him.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” He admits.

“Are you gonna ask me?” You smile because you’ve been waiting for this moment.

“Are you going to say yes?” He’s ask.

“I dunno guess you’re gonna have to ask to find out.” You shrug your shoulders, trying your best not to be giddy with excitement.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, shyly.

“Yes of course,” you beam, “I thought you’d never ask me.”

“If I known how you felt I would’ve asked sooner. Plus I’d never be ashamed of you.” You push your self up and kiss him. Your phone starts to ring bringing you out of your moment with Eddie. You pull away groaning annoyed.

“Who is it?” Eddie ask.

“My mom.” You quickly answer and let her know you’ll be home soon. As soon as you hang up, “Can you take me home, Eds?”

“Of course, princess.”

—

The next day rolls around, you arrive early to school eager to speak with Chrissy. You find her and ask, “Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah of course, what’s up?” She smiles.

“Like alone. I need your help.” You mutter. Her face fills with concern as she follows you down the hallway. As soon as you two were alone she looks to you waiting for you to speak.

“What’s up?” She asks again, her curiosity killing her.

“Ya know how that one time I went to pick up weed for you from Eddie?”

“Yeah.” She nods.

“We’ll we’ve been kind of hanging out since and last night he asked me out like officially and I said yes.” The biggest smile grows on her face causing you to be confused.

“Finally.” She smiles, grinning ear to ear. Pulling you into a hug.

“What do you mean finally?” I ask still being consumed by her hug.

“It was a set up.” She laughs.

“What?”

“I caught you constantly checking him out and I know him from buying. So I brought you up in front of him to see his reaction and he got all flustered. Told me some story about you asking for help on your first day, been smitten with you since.” You’re shocked at all this new information but not upset in the slightest since it lead to you dating Eddie.

“Eddie knew?”

“No. It was all me,” She giggles, “What did you need help with then?”

“I thought originally he didn’t want to be public with because of me being friends with all the popular people. So I never bothered him about being public with him which made him think I was ashamed of him which obviously I’m not. I could never be. I just don’t know what to do. I want him to know I’m not ashamed. I feel like I need to make some public display of affection.” Chrissy cuts you off.

“Ask him to the dance in front of everyone.”

“But shouldn’t boys ask girls?” You ask, some what nervous at the thought of doing that.

“It’ll be prefect. It’s Sadie’s, girls ask boys. We can make you a sign and everything. Do it at lunch! Kiss him in front of everyone. Let everyone know he’s yours.” She squeezes you shoulders, getting more excited as she thinks of everything you need to do and how she can help you.

“That sounds like a great idea.” You smile nervously. She grabs your hand and drags you to the art class room.

—

You nervously shake waiting for Eddie to show up into the lunch room. Chrissy stands near by cheering you on giving you reassuring thumbs up. You glance her way and she points to the entrance where Eddie is entering.

Chrissy presses play on the speaker she brought, the Lord of The Rings music she found online and had absolutely no idea it was accurate it starts to play. Eddie looks over to where the music came from seeing Chrissy who nods in your direction, he gaze follows and sees you standing there holding the sign you made with Chrissy’s help.

It reads ‘You shall not pass… Unless you go to Sadie’s with me.’ Another thing you found online that meant nothing to you but knew it meant something to Eddie. He talked about this book several times, you we’re confident he’d love it.

Eddie’s confusion quickly turns into happiness when he realizes what is happening. A small crowd starts to form as you ask, “Do you want to go to Sadie’s with me?” You say loud and proud when you see the smile on his lips, he approaches only a few inches away from you.

“Yes,” He grins. You drop the sign and grab his face pulling him down to your level give him the biggest kiss. It takes him a moment, because he’s probably in shock, to kiss you back but once he does he melts into your touch.

You’re the one to pull away when you realize people are cheering for you two. You look to Chrissy whose cheering the hardest, like her plan came to fruition. You grab Eddie’s hand and people start to disperse. Chrissy approaches you two, “Thank you.” You say giving her a quick hug.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“I’ll explain later. I’m gonna sit with Eddie today and his friends.” You let Chrissy know before leading Eddie to where he usually sat at lunch. His friends watch in awe as you sit down next to Eddie.

“What?” You laugh.

“We didn’t believe him.” Dustin says, shock still evident. You look over to Eddie who looks as happy as he can be, you squeeze his hand tightly before speaking.

“Better believe it. You’re gonna see so much more of me.”

#eddie imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson pov #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie x you #smut #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things x reader

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arealphrooblem · 1 year

Text

Mutually Assured Destruction Part 11 -- The End!

This is the last part everyone! I may right little snippets after this one if the inspiration strikes, but this is the definitive end to the series.

Synopsis: Villain x Civilian. Civilian can sense other people's powers through auras but hides this ability. They are terrified of the most boring person at their office job, who hides the most powerful aura Civilian has ever felt.

CW: Mentions of death, low self-esteem thoughts, brief vague mention of sex at the end, two kisses

Part One Here

Part Ten Here

At first, they thought he was sick. Jonathan didn’t ever give them a cell phone number, so they couldn’t call and check on him. By Wednesday they drove round for three hours after work, trying to find the neighborhood that housed his apartment, with no luck. By Friday, worry stayed a constant pit in their stomach.

Monday morning brought the news that Jonathan had “transferred” to another in another part of the country. Civilian had to suffer all day through the cloying sympathy of their coworkers. Gloria had even hugged them. Everyone assumed a breakup occurred so horribly awkward that it drove Jonathan to move several hundred miles away a week before the holidays.

For the rest of December, Civilian kept up religiously with the news, looking for something big enough to fit the plans Jonathan had hinted at — massive art theft, large scale arson, hell even a government coup.

There was nothing save for constant Christmas ads that Civilian tuned out.

Eventually they had to accept the truth that Jonathan had just got the fuck out of dodge and didn’t look back. Fine. Civilian knew their ‘relationship’ had an expiration date, that it had never existed in the first place. But they had expected some kind of goodbye, even if it had been a threat to stay quiet — not this slipping away in the dead of night like a ghost.

Maybe his plans fell through and he had to leave before someone else discovered him. Maybe the Agency had found him despite his best efforts and he had to abandon everything. Both scenarios were more likely than the one echoing cruelly in Civilian’s head at night:

That they had driven him away; that he couldn’t take their needy loneliness anymore and bounced.

It’s a thought that hounded them for the next six months, followed them as closely and loyally as their own shadow. As the weeks drifted by, Civilian burrowed further and further inside themselves, rejecting offers from Gloria to eat lunch, rejecting their mother’s requests to call or visit, rejecting drinks after work with the other members of their department.

It wasn’t that Jonathan broke their ability to trust anyone — it was the stubborn, naive belief that if Civilian chose to be alone then they weren’t lonely, that it didn’t count because it was self-imposed, a choice, a preference. And being around other people reminded them so sharply of feeling not alone that they couldn’t handle its absence once the night was over.

The whole thing was ridiculous, and Civilian berated themselves at each night for it. They were acting childish and silly. Jonathan was right: the only thing stopping them from having friends was their own fear. They could find a new job, move to a new city, find a place where Jonathan had never set foot in and build anew.

But they didn’t.

And six months later, the bank went under.

Ironically, the one thing Civilian needed to watch the news for, they had ignored in favor of a Buzzfeed shopping list. Their mom had sent a text with a link to a video and a series of question marks.

Isn’t this your bank????

The video explained how the entire board of directors had been arrested for fraud and embezzlement to the tune of billions.

Billions with a B.

After that number, Civilian’s attention went a little fuzzy. The explanation of the complex series of fund transfers and shell corporations and blah blah blah faded to the background as Civilian tried desperate to work out just how the hell Jonathan made it happen.

Over the weeks, each man screamed his innocence of course, but camera footage and witness testimonies — even ones from the other board directors, all eager to stab each other in the back — denied those claims. Each director passed a psych test with flying colors, despite their protests of their body moving with out their consent. It all looked very much like a bunch of disgustingly wealthy men got caught trying to illegally make themselves even more disgustingly richer.

After a certain point, Civilian could have spoken up about Jonathan, and no one would have believed them anyway.

It was the perfect crime and now Jonathan was walking out there will several billion dollars in his pocket and Civilian . . .

Well Civilian was now out of a job, living off a pathetic severance package, and trying to find a solution to their problem that did not involve moving back in with their mother.

It happened in the middle of the night. The ear-popping pressure of a powerful aura dragged them from sleep. In the soft darkness of their bedroom, they could just make out a shadowy figure looming over them.

In seconds confusion crystalized sharply into fear. Civilian’s hands dove under the pillow for the knife they kept there and yanked it out. Their hand froze in the air, gripped by invisible fingers Civilian knew all too well.

“Did you just pull a fucking knife on me?” The figure asked incredulously.

The familiarity of his voice hit them like a physical ache, like a thumb on a bruise.

“Jonathan?”

The lamp switched on, bathing the room in a dim glow. Civilian squinted and blinked against the sudden light. Standing there, eyebrows raised and dressed in all black, was Jonathan Anderson.

The knife gleamed between them. He glanced between it and Civilian and shook his head.

“You should give me that before you hurt yourself.”

He took the knife gently out of their forcibly relaxed fingers and set it on the nightstand, far out of their reach.

Their chest was a swirling maelstrom of too many emotions to count — joy and fear and anxiety and relief.

But most of all anger.

How dare he just show up after ten months of nothing.

“You should go fuck yourself,” they retorted, sitting up and swinging their legs over the side.

“Awww, Civilian, did I upset you by leaving?” He gave them a mocking frown. “Did you miss me?”

The truth of his words pierced them, sending a hot flush of humiliation up their neck.

“No, I did not miss you, you sick on of a bitch — ”

Jonathan bent down, cupping their face in his hands and cutting them off with a fierce, almost desperate kiss.

“I missed you,” he breathed. “So fucking much.”

Civilian’s heart pounded like thunder in their ears. How often did they daydream this kind of moment happening, and yet now that it was here, they couldn’t help but doubt it. It felt dangerous to believe it.

“How am I supposed to believe that?” they demanded. “For all I know, you could be here to kill me and — and tie up loose ends.”

Jonathan had the gall to laugh. “Where do you think we are — a mobster movie? Do you think I’m going to tie cinder blocks to your legs and throw you off the pier?”

“You wouldn’t need the cinder blocks to make sure I drowned,” they said mulishly. “You wouldn’t even need a pier. You could make me smother myself right now with my own pillow.”

Why they were arguing this, they had no idea. Perhaps stubbornly clinging to the belief that he didn’t care about them protected them from hope. Jonathan’s grin faded into something more somber as he studied them. Then he slowly sank down on one knee before them, putting him at just under eye level.

“Why would I come here to kill you after everything I’ve done to protect you?”

“Protect me? Is that what you calling taking off with no goodbye like I didn’t mean anything?”

“Tell me, Civilian, how suspicious it would have looked if I had stolen all that money and then skipped town? How many people would be scrutinizing the newest hire that suddenly disappeared and anyone who associated with him? How long before the Agency would come sniffing around, looking for someone with my skill-set, and find you and your glorious little secret? Hmm? Tell me.”

Civilian glared at him and his tight, unbeatable logic. How dare he make sense.

“Some warning would have been nice,” they said instead, crossing their arms. “I thought I had — that you ran because — ”

They couldn’t finish the thought, it was too embarrassing. How stupid they had been, obsessing over a silly kiss, when Jonathan was executing such grand larceny on an unheard of scale. Like he had even spared it a second thought.

He gave them a knowing, crooked smile. “You thought I took off because you kissed me and I flipped out.”

“No,” they lied. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It is ridiculous,” he agreed. “It’s the one thing that made it hard to leave in the first place. And I couldn’t let you know, in case someone did question you. You were my insurance, not my accomplice.”

The one thing that made it hard to leave. Staying angry at Jonathan was getting more and more difficult. Civilian tried to hold onto it, but it slipped through their fingers like an eel.

“So the bank . . .that really was you?” they asked.

This time his smile widened into a full smirk. “Beautiful, wasn’t it?”

“Beautiful? It fucked over a lot of people — including me! I’m out of a job now, you prick.”

He shrugged. “People will move on just like they always have. As for you . . .that’s why I’m here.” He reached out and traced the pad of his thumb down their jawline. “To spirit you away.”

Civilian fought and failed to hold back a shiver at the light touch. “You mean kidnap me.”

“It’s only kidnapping if you don’t volunteer for it,” he said. “You’re being very stubbornly angry with me. You must have missed me quite a bit.”

They swallowed thickly. “I hate you,” they lied.

He smile, soft and gentle, his thumb swiping over their bottom lip. “You wish you did.”

Civilian’s pulse fluttered. They wanted very badly to kiss his thumb, his hand, anywhere they could reach. “And where would you take me?” they whispered instead.

Jonathan turned his hand so the back of his knuckles brushed over their cheekbone. “Where do you want to go? I have more money than God, Civilian. We can go anywhere in the world and disappear and never have to look over our shoulders again. What say you to that?”

“What happens if I say no?”

As tempting as his offer was, they had to ask the question, regardless. His answer determined everything.

“You will never have to see me again,” he said, taking his hand away. “And I will find a way to anonymously give you enough money to do whatever you wish in a way that can’t be traced. With me or without me, you will have the same freedom from the Agency that I do. I had planned for that for a long time.”

Whatever resentment for their months alone evaporated in an instant. This time Civilian took his face in their hands and kissed him, long and fierce.

“Take me to Greece first,” they said. “I want to see the ruins.”

Taglist: @those-damn-snippets@heroes-villains-side-blog@anonymousewrites@follow-me-into-the-fog@sunnyside-world, @rivalriotrenegade@trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room@midnightsillusions@villain-obsessed-word-nerd@deflated-bouncingball @pickleking8 @cesspitoflove@to-sneak-away-and-hide@im-a-wonderling@hasel-anne@ghostly-writer@moonknight-s-cumdump@valiantlytransparentwhispers@galactic-squiddo@boomimhere@organizedchaos03@dungeon-roomba@vidiaka@powerflower119 @cbiom @meltedgallium@skevethefool@sarcasticlittlebook@lisapicklemagick@dragonfirephoenixflame, @royalmuffinsworld@sillypeachduck

#my writing #hero x villain #villain x civilian #enemies to lovers #writeblr #mutually assured destruction

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anton-luvr · 11 months

Text

# WHAT'S THE TIME WHERE YOU ARE?

⚝ ceo!wonbin x ceo!reader | angst | right person wrong time au ⚝ note ; first part of my 'something to give each other' series! + feedback would be highly appreciated ^_^

Wonbin taps his feet against the tiled floor, arms folded.

Irritated, he takes a glance at the gleaming Rolex strapped to his wrist.

“We’ve been waiting for four minutes.” he scoffs, glaring at his assistant. “I hired you to prepare everything for me, didn’t I? Couldn’t you prepare the SIM card before this?”

Terrified, Wonbin’s assistant shakes his head and is quick to bow in apology. “My apologies, sir. I forgot about this, I’ll try to get it as fast as possible.”

Annoyed, Wonbin simply tuts and rolls his eyes.

For anyone who knew how busy Wonbin was as the CEO of one of Korea’s largest companies, they would think he had urgent calls and emails to attend to.

But deep down under those layers of annoyance, was desperation.

He had just landed in Tokyo for a three-day-long business conference and product launch, and what was supposed to be a fourteen hour flight from Milan to Tokyo had been delayed to a total of sixteen hours.

And that two hour window that had been stupidly wasted because of bad weather was the only time Wonbin knew you were going to be free this week before you flew to Paris for a shareholder’s meeting.

As the CEO of another successful company yourself, messaging each other was the only way for you to keep in touch. Endless meetings that took forever and getting on flights like these always got in the way, and Wonbin hated it.

There was nothing he wanted more than to spend more than an hour with you, even if it had to be over text.

He didn’t care for money or fame.

He just wanted you.

It’s been months since he last saw you, and the desperation was settling in even harder.

Your genuine smile amongst the crowd of fake ones at the national business conference was what that had caught his attention, and there was just something so attractive about the way you carried yourself.

Your laugh was the prettiest sound he’s ever heard, and he prides himself on the fact that it was thanks to a silly story he told you.

Confidence and charisma oozed from your aura, and yet there was so much love and humility in your voice while the both of you talked for hours on end that night.

And for the first time in almost forever, Wonbin felt alive again.

He could feel the connection between the both of you, and he knew you felt it too.

“Sir, your SIM card.” his assistant says, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Without wasting another second, Wonbin swipes the card from his hands and is quick to slip it into his phone.

He power walks to the entrance while waiting for the SIM card to activate, sparing no time for his bodyguards and assistant to catch up.

Wonbin’s heart speeds up when he settles into his limousine, opening up his messaging app.

‘just landed in tokyo’ he texts, furiously typing away. ‘hbu?’

You reply almost immediately, and Wonbin can't help but smile.

‘boarding my flight to paris right now :(‘ your message read, and Wonbin’s smile drops.

He lets out a defeated sigh as he rests his head on the cold window, replying to you.

‘ahh i see’ he texts. 'have a safe flight! lmk when you land’

He can only sigh again when you reply with a 'yup! have fun in tokyo :p'

Now, no matter how strong the connection, Wonbin knew it wasn't going to last long if texting each other sporadically throughout the month was your only way of staying in contact.

He’d try to switch things up by sending gifts to you time to time, surprising you with a gorgeous bouquet of flowers sent to your hotel doorstep when you were in Germany, or reminding you to take care of yourself with a selfcare set worth thousands sent straight to your office.

But there was nothing more he could do about it.

He sighs again, leaning back in the leather seat and closing his eyes.

Maybe that’s just the way love goes.

Wonbin can't remember the last time he's been to an afterparty this bad.

Sure, the DJ was playing great music, but the atmosphere of the entire party made him shift in discomfort.

Everyone was socializing, but only with the motive of landing a new business partner, name cards given out like propaganda five minutes into each insincere conversation.

He glanced at the small stack of name cards that he'd collected over the past hour he'd been here, and he frowned in disgust.

Making sure no one was watching, Wonbin chucks it all into the nearby dustbin.

He just wanted to get back to his hotel and sleep all his exhaustion away.

To make matters worse, his latest message of ‘how’s paris?’ to you from four days ago was still left on sent.

It’s not like it hasn’t happened before, but in moments of longing like these, it made Wonbin’s heart ache just a bit more.

All of a sudden, his phone buzzes to life, and he squints at the screen.

His eyes run over the contact name, and he almost drops his phone as he scrambles to answer your call.

“Hello? You’re calling me?” he asks in disbelief, a smile on his face nonetheless.

“Yeah! I’m free right now, so I thought I’d call you and give you a little surprise." you giggle, and Wonbin's heart warms at the sound.

‘Well, I’m definitely surprised.” Wonbin chuckles. “How’s Paris? What’s the time right now?”

There’s a short pause from your side as you check your watch.

“It’s two in the afternoon here, so I’m gonna go out for lunch with my team in a bit. How about you?”

Wonbin leans against the wall, sighing as he glanced across the crowded hall. "It's almost eleven here and I'm stuck at an afterparty." he whines.

"Just talk to someone, you'll be fine." you suggest, laughing at how childlike Wonbin could be sometimes.

"But I don't want to! Everyone keeps wanting to talk to me, and I'm hiding alone in the corner right now." he complains.

"They just love you too much, hm?" you tease.

Wonbin sighs again, shaking his head even though you couldn't see him.

"I wish it was you talking to me here." he says softly, the energy of the call immediately shifting.

"Well, I am talking to you." you reason, thankful that he wasn't able to see the crimson blush on your cheeks at his words.

"But I wanna see you." Wonbin mumbles. "I miss you."

It's the first time he's ever told you that, and neither of you say anything for a moment.

"I wanna see you too, but we both know that's impossible." you whisper. "We're both so busy."

"And I don't mind waiting. I'm okay with waiting for you after all is said and done, promise." he says, determination in his voice.

It's your turn to let out a sigh as guilt creeps into your heart, and you close your eyes as you lie down on your hotel bed.

"I don't want you to do that. You'll have to wait for literal months just for us to squeeze in a call like this."

"I really don't mind." Wonbin insists.

"But I do. It's not fair to you." you groan.

Wonbin pokes his tongue into his cheek, anger starting to build in his chest.

"Come on," he reasons. "I already told you I don't mind. I really don't."

"But we’ll be so tired and so busy… won’t it get worse if we’re together?” you continue, starting to get upset too.

The terror of realising he was losing you made Wonbin's heart pound, his hands sweaty as he tries to convince you to stay - or at least give this a try.

"Hey, if we never try, we'll never know." he points out. "Please? Can't we just... try?"

His question is left hanging in the air as you stay quiet, a million thoughts rushing through your mind.

It just seemed so impossible and so impractical to you.

What's the point of being in a relationship when you'll never have the time to be with each other?

"'I don't know." you lie, feeling a headache set in. "I need to go now. I'll talk to you next time."

"Oh." Wonbin whispers, his voice choking up. "Okay."

"Bye." you say softly. "I'm sorry."

Your apology does nothing as the repeating echo of you ending the call rings in Wonbin's ears, his eyes filling with tears while raw pain tore at his heart.

He knows you want more.

No, he knows you need more.

He knows you need someone to offer their shoulder for you to cry on, someone to welcome you home with warm arms every night.

He knows he can't do that.

But couldn't you just give him a chance?

Wonbin can only slowly sink to the floor as tears start to flow down his cheeks, the loneliness and desperation burning into his shattered heart.

He'll never get to love you.

taglist: @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @junhuiste-ficrec @numberonetaleprince @chwenott @shawyle @yenart (tags in bold couldn't be tagged)

#riize #riize angst #riize fics #riize fluff #riize imagines #riize drabbles #riize x reader #riize wonbin #wonbin #wonbin riize

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alwritey-aphrodite · 1 year

Text

Paint The Town Blue

Chapter Five of There’s Nothing Like This

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!footballer!reader

Warnings: drinking

Word Count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: I love how every Ted Lasso fic series has a gala chapter, we’re so cute like that

The rest of the week passes in a blur of glittering gowns and sweaty training sessions, face masks and bruises. It was surprisingly easy to find a dress for the gala, and you settle on something simple enough so you can hopefully wear it again after looking at the price tag. Training is rough, and you leave every day wondering how you’re able to walk, but your mood had improved considerably after Monday’s episode.

By the time Thursday morning rolls around, you’re nothing more than a bundle of nerves, terrified for the match and the gala and what everyone is going to think of you. You’d always assumed that people’s opinions of you wouldn’t affect you as much as what you think about yourself, but now that seemingly everyone has something negative to say, it’s starting to wear you down. It’s like there are two different forces propelling you forward: one that wants to win and one that needs to prove everyone wrong.

You know your teammates feel the same way.

The dressing room is thrumming with energy and tension about to snap, all of you primed and ready for the match ahead. Your nervous energy has peaked and dissipated after spending time in the dressing room, laughing and smiling with your teammates while you prepare, securing your hair back and waiting for one of the coaches to give the pre-match pep talk even though you’re paying more attention to readying yourself mentally than anything that comes out of their mouths, and you leave the dressing room feeling ready for whatever happens on the pitch.

When you return to the dressing room ninety minutes later, it’s to the jubilant singing of your teammates. It’d been a harsh fight, but you managed to score in the seventieth minute to secure a 1-0 win, pushing you higher in the standings.

“Oi!” Roy breaks through the revelry, “Don’t get too shit-faced tonight, you still have training tomorrow.”

“And free drinks tomorrow night!” Keeley adds as she enters the dressing room, causing another wave of fanfare to erupt, more for the woman herself than her statement.

“So maybe we push off the celebration?” Elena offers, and even though she’s met with a chorus of booing, you all eventually agree that tonight will be for resting and tomorrow can be for celebrating while bringing attention to whatever charity is at the center of the gala.

As much as you want to bask in the glow of the win, you change out of your kit as fast as possible, already dreaming about the warm shower waiting for you at home. Maybe you’ll treat yourself to some takeout instead of whatever leftover meal prep is sitting in your fridge. You say your goodbyes to the girls, congratulating Naomi, your goalkeeper, on all her amazing saves as you leave the dressing room to wait for Mackie in the hallway, where it’s cooler and less crowded and you can breathe deeply for the first time in ninety minutes.

Checking your phone, you see a text from Jamie and are a little embarrassed at how quickly you open it.

Congrats on the win!! You played great today, might have to ask you for some pointers

You hate the way you smile down at your phone as you type a response, reminding yourself that Jamie is your friend and a new one at that.

Thanks! Are you sure you could even handle any more training?

The three little dots appear as Mackie leaves the dressing room, so you close your phone and slip it into your pocket as quickly as possible. Knowing Mackie, she would make everything into a big deal, and you didn’t want to ruin one of your first friendships in Richmond outside of the team just because Mackie loves jumping to conclusions.

Driving home with Mackie is always the perfect way to end your evenings, she always knows if you want quiet or talking or hype music or relaxing music, and even when you don’t talk it’s wonderful to know you have someone next to you. Today, she’s a chatterbox, going on and on about all the calls she thought should have been fouls or yellow cards.

By the time she’s dropping you off, you’re laughing so hard there are tears pouring out of your eyes and you never want to spend a moment apart from her ever again.

“Alright, get out, I wanna go to bed,” Mackie says through the remnants of her laughter, pushing at your shoulder until you leave the car.

Your evening plans are very similar to Mackie’s, and you order takeout before you take a long, hot shower to relax your muscles that had gone into overdrive before you slip into your bed and turn on mind numbing television while you scroll through your phone. You text back and forth with Jamie for a while, confirming that he’s coming to the charity event Keeley has planned for Friday and he tells you that he’s pretty sure Keeley stuck you at the same table as him.

It’s terrifying how nervous that makes you feel, nervous like you’re about to hit the peak of a roller coaster or walk down the aisle in a white gown.

When you wake in the morning, it’s after a solid eight hours of sleep where you were plagued by the strangest dreams of weddings and fancy dresses and cars driven by Jamie Tartt. As odd as your dreams were, it was the best sleep you’d gotten since you arrived in Richmond and you’re finally starting to feel less keyed up.

Training is easy as well, and most of your day is spent reviewing game footage and reevaluating certain tactics and laughing so much you’re a little bit worried you’re going to pee yourself. As serious as you all can be, as anxious as everyone is on match day, it’s hard to feel anything but joy when you’re surrounded by your team and you’re riding high on the win from yesterday and the promise of free booze later.

As everyone’s packing up and showing pictures of dresses and shoes and hairstyles, Keeley pops in, clearly looking frazzled.

“Remember to be on our best behavior, yeah? At least until all the old people get tired and go home,” she smiles then, and you just wish you could tell her that tonight will be perfect and have her believe you.

Your training ended at the same time as the men’s team, giving everyone ample time to get ready for the gala, and you pretend to ignore the way Mackie stares at you when you wave goodbye to Jamie. She drops you off, promising to pick you up at seven and you know she’s refraining from making a joke about you finding a “better date” with a certain striker and you’re grateful for her self control.

When you finally make your way inside, all the stress and pressure from the week, from the month, come crashing down around you but you do your best to work through it, knowing you have a weekend full of absolutely nothing to look forward to. You take your time getting ready, luxuriating in the shower and spending longer than you ever have on your hair and makeup, the threat of a red carpet and paparazzi making bile rise in your throat.

Still, you manage to finish getting ready before Mackie arrives, giving you plenty of time to marinate in your own self doubt and anxiety. Never in your life have you needed to attend an event like this, let alone an event when most of the attention will be on you and your teammates. All you hope is that everything goes smoothly, for your sake and for Keeley’s. You know it’s eating at her how poorly received the women’s team has been, and you know she needs a win from the press.

Hopefully tonight goes well and she raises lots of money for charity before getting absolutely shitfaced with the Greyhounds.

As expected, Mackie arrives right on time, looking absolutely stunning in the suit you’d picked out together on Tuesday. She gives a wolf whistle as you lock your front door and make your way to the car, pausing to give her a little spin so she could see the dress, and you, in all its glory. You’ve never been one for fancy dresses, but Mackie’s reaction makes you think you should dress up more.

The drive to the venue only serves to give your anxiety time to grow, despite the gentle way Mackie tries to distract you with her talks of nonsense. Throughout your years of friendship, she’s always done her best to support you through events and nights like these, even though standing in the spotlight has always come naturally to her. By the time you slip out of the car and spot the photographers and the carpet and the rest of your teammates, you’re on the verge of throwing up and considering making a run for it when Mackie grabs you gently by the arm and steers you towards the carpet.

Finding your team waiting to get their pictures taken, you’re met with excited shouts and whistles and expletives as you and Mackie approach, as if they’re not also dressed to the nines and looking more beautiful than anyone you’ve ever seen. There are a few of the men’s players hanging around and chatting with your teammates, but they usher you forward onto the carpet, letting your team bask in the spotlight for once.

Mackie, as if sensing the anxiety radiating off of you in waves, grabs your hand and pulls you forward, stopping and posing with you until you make it safely to the other side of the carpet. Already overwhelmed, you simply squeeze her hand in silent thanks before dropping it as you make your way inside, dazzled by Keeley’s hard work and dedication.

The entire space is transformed, and what was before an empty, boring ballroom is covered in silver twinkling stars and ambient lighting and a sea of tables complete with numbers and place cards. Keeley truly never ceases to amaze you, and the fact that she could pull all of this off while working at her own PR company and helping to run the Greyhounds’ social media is mind boggling to you. As much as you want to tell her how great of a job she’s done, you can see her bouncing around from table to table and you can’t even imagine the stress she’s under, so you promise yourself you’ll tell her later.

When you finally find your table in the sea of others, Jamie, Colin, and Isaac are already sitting down, and the way Jamie smiles when he notices you makes you feel a little bit dizzy.

“Well, now it’s a party!” Colin says when he glances up and sees Mackie after noticing the spaced-out look that had appeared on Jamie’s face, and he stands to get everyone a drink. Your seat, apparently, is right next to Jamie, and you have to wonder if Keeley had planned it that way or if someone might have meddled.

By the forced look of nonchalance on Isaac’s face, you’re guessing it’s the second one.

“You look really nice,” Jamie says as he scrambles to pull your chair out, and you shamelessly let your eyes rove up and down his body, taking in the way his dark trousers hug his thighs and the exposed skin of his chest underneath his mostly unbuttoned shirt. Friends are allowed to admire how their friends look, you tell yourself, forcing the word ‘friend’ into your brain over and over again.

“So do you,” you tell him truthfully as you take a seat, and your heart flutters a little as his cheeks redden slightly.

The chatter throughout the room and the music playing softly creates a gentle hum in the background, but you’re not paying attention to anything except your table. Colin’s boyfriend, Micheal, was giving you all an earful about all the pains of dating a footballer, and between the way he’s cracking jokes and the drink you’d all but pounded to calm your nerves, you’re laughing harder than you have in ages. Lucky for you, your entire table seems to be in a similar position and the tables around you are so wrapped up in their own conversations that no one notices your rambunctious group.

After the food is served, though, you all manage to calm down to respectable levels, preparing yourselves for the long, drawn out auction that’s to come. Keeley is still fluttering around, and she stops by your table shortly after the entrees. She’s grinning, but you can tell she’s more than anxious from the way she keeps asking if everyone’s having a good time.

“Everything’s great, it’s beautiful in here,” you tell her, casting a glance around the room to look at the decor again.

“You guys look beautiful!” She counters, a genuine smile taking over her face and you just hope that the charity portion of the event is over soon so she can enjoy herself.

“Go eat!” You shoo her away, and you see Rebecca send you a wink out of the corner of her eye when she comes to steer Keeley back to her table.

Almost as soon as the plates are cleared away, Rebecca is thanking everyone for coming and thanking Keeley for planning such a beautiful night before beginning to auction off signed kits and match balls and VIP tickets for the rest of the season. You’re not sure if everyone’s been making good use out of the open bar or if the event is always this successful, but those items go for more money than you would have ever imagined.

While a few other guests continue to chat and sit by the bar to savor one last free drink, much of the remaining crowd works at Nelson Road in some capacity, and by the way Keeley glances around the room from her spot by the door, thanking everyone for coming as they leave, she’s clearly waiting for something.

Once it looks like the last guest has left, leaving behind the Greyhounds, Keeley takes to the stage, finally looking relaxed and bouncy and ready to party.

“Thank you guys for your good behavior,” she says to the crowd, and you all cheer back at her, “now let’s fucking party!”

If everyone had cheered for the first part of her sentence, then everyone was going crazy now, yelling so loud your ears hurt a little. The tables were all pushed away and some apparently famous DJ took the stage, and then it was time for a night of drinks and dancing with your friends, the perfect way to celebrate your win from yesterday and Keeley’s successful charity event.

Despite never being one for the club scene, the drinks and the company were making you feel like you could conquer anything, so you join the mass of swaying bodies, finding space to dance near Mackie and Amelia. You can’t remember ever feeling this loose, this carefree, so you intend to savor it.

After a few songs, though, your feet start killing you and you navigate your way out of the crowd to find a seat at the bar. Luckily for you, Jamie was sitting at the bar, watching the crowd with a beer bottle in his hand, and you know you light up when you see him. With all the drinks coursing through your body, you forget to be nervous around him, forget to remind yourself that he’s just a friend.

Plopping down next to him and unbuckling the tiny straps on your shoes, you sigh in relief once you can feel your toes again, giving yourself a little break before going back out to dance.

“Want a drink?” Jamie asks with a little nod back to the bar, an amused smile on his face as he watches you staring at your feet, willing them to feel better.

“Sure!” You chirp, talking louder than you normally would to be heard over the music. Jamie, ever the observer, remembers your drink of choice from early in the evening and slides one to you from across the bar.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” You ask him after taking a healthy swig from your drink.

“Don’t wanna,” he shrugs, looking from the crowd to you to the bottle in his hand, “someone here should be responsible, yeah?” Instead of a response, you just clink your glasses together with a smile.

Soon, you’re so wrapped up in Jamie that your mission to get back on the dance floor is completely forgotten. The two of you make your way outside, to hear each other better, and your heart ticks up when Jamie carries your shoes out for you, making no comment on you being barefoot in London.

He takes a seat on the steps and you follow suit, sitting closer than you normally would. You talk for what must be hours, trading stories from training and old clubs and your childhood determination to make it to the top, and much too soon for your liking, Elena is coming outside with Mackie on her arm.

“I promised I’d bring these two home,” she says, Mackie immediately pouting at the older woman.

“I guess it’s time for me to leave,” you sigh, gathering your shoes and standing as Elena attempts to get Mackie down the stairs, “thanks for talking with me.” You lean back down to plant a kiss on his cheek without a second thought.

You turn to leave, and you don’t notice the way Jamie tenderly touches the faint lipstick mark left behind on his cheek.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @buckychristwrites @benedictscanvas @whimsical-roasting @sokkigarden @guccilongboard @onceuponaoneshot @presidential-facts @yepyeahuhhuh @loveslide @allthefandomtherapy @gibby31 @buddyjuststop @ellietartt @cancvr @brianandthemays @sonyume @aiyaiy @captainfrisbee @dalebo3 @theloud-yet-quietone @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @rockchickrebel @legobatmans9thab @curlypeter @lostinwonderland314 @yokolesbianism @jamietarttdodo @fan-goddess @innocentbi-stander @skewedcherries

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction

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tgmsunmontue · 10 days

Text

Saga of Solitude 12/21

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version). (Side Hangster, which is ALSO angsty).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003) FIVE (2004) SIX (2005) SEVEN (2006) EIGHT (2007) NINE (2008) TEN (2009) ELEVEN (2010)

CHAPTER TWELVE (2011) - Jake Seresin Interlude (OUCH)

He’s got his wings.

He can’t be kicked out of the Navy for being gay.

Life is good.

It could be better of course, and he’s not sure if being deployed for the first time as a naval aviator on the same carrier as Bradley Bradshaw is a good or bad thing. Bradley has been here since before Christmas and Jake had done a little double take when he’d caught sight of him, wishing he’d paid a little more attention to the ship manifest. Lesson learnt for next time and every time after that.

Annoyingly everyone seems to fucking love him, he’s friendly and gregarious, not seemingly caring about duty or rank all while looking fucking gorgeous. Jake knows what he looks like naked, when he comes, what he looks like when he’s fucking Jake and what he looks like when Jake’s fucking him. He knows his fixation probably isn’t healthy but he can’t help it. He wonders if maybe things have changed, now that DADT has been repealed. If the short and sharp non-conversation they’d exchanged at Corpus Christi would have a different outcome now, with the changes that are coming. A part of him is desperate to know and the same part is terrified that the answer will be the same.

No.

Not interested.

Not interested in a repeat.

Not interested in friendship.

Not interested in, heaven forbid, a relationship.

Shut down before he could even raise the subject in the briefest of moments when Bradley had even acknowledged Jake’s existence.

Fuck him.

… … …

“They make a cute couple huh?”

“Who?” Jake asks, because he’d just been watching Bradley. Again.

“Bradshaw and Trace. They deny it of course, but they spend their leaves together when they align, don’t hold back posting photos together, and know each other’s families, what there is of it anyway. Been tight since USNA and then they went through flight school together.”

Jake clenches his jaw, because he’d put money on Bradley and Trace being nothing more than friends, but Sandy is holding out his phone and then he’s looking at Natasha Trace’s private Facebook page. Photos of her with Bradley, them dressed in what is clearly a couples outfit for Halloween from last year, Woody and Jesse from Toy Story and that’s what he looks like with no moustache. Huh. He swallows down the anger and pain, forces himself to smile and nod. Okay, he’d still put money on it, but not a lot of money. He passes the phone back.

“Cute, yeah.”

… … …

“Class of 2010, you’ve been invited to dinner with a special guest. He is here simply as a guest, however please try and remember to be on your best behavior. Your actions do reflect the US Navy.”

Jake isn’t sure why his year has been singled out, there are only three of them on the carrier who are fresh out of flight school, but maybe that’s the whole point. He sits at the table for the evening meal and makes small talk with the others as well as Admiral Kazansky, whose eyes are sharp and assessing. Jake feels a little like he’s on trial but the same questions are also directed at the others and Kazansky always offers up little amusing anecdotes from his own days and it’s nice, for all that it’s a meal with the brass.

“Lieutenant Seresin, it was nice to meet you. Take care of yourself.”

“Of course sir. Nice to meet you too.”

He’s then asked to take Admiral Kazansky to the rec room, which he dutifully does. Fortunately he doesn’t seem to want to grill Jake further, almost making a beeline to where Bradshaw is sitting, although Bradshaw for once is looking pissed about something, and it seems more aimed at the Admiral than at Jake, which makes a nice change. Jake sidles around the side of the room to where Sandy is working out, knows Sandy was at flight school with both Bradshaw and Trace, so might actually know the answer to his question.

“What’s with Admiral Kazansky and Bradshaw?”

“Oh. I think his dad flew with him? Or… there was something. Family friends maybe? You know how the Navy can get.”

Yeah. Jake does know and he’s also heard rumors linking Bradshaw to Maverick Mitchell, which somehow seems even more ridiculous than him somehow calling Admiral Kazansky a family friend. God, he has no idea what is true and what isn’t about him anymore. Every part of their weekend together had felt… real. Genuine. It had been so good and it had given him so much hope that maybe he’d find someone like that to spend the rest of his life with. And then he’d been introduced to the other side of Bradley Bradshaw.

It still hurts.

… … …

He gets put on a training exercise with Bradley and god he can fly. They’re all good, you don’t become an aviator by being mediocre but Bradley is… he flies easy as breathing and just watching him gets Jake hard. It’s kind of embarrassing and he takes his time doing post-flight checks, talks with the crew on deck about maintenance and hopes to avoid seeing Bradley in person, which shouldn’t be hard to do considering Bradley seems to assist by also actively avoiding him.

He finally lets his guard down, the locker room deserted and quiet, he’s got his boots off and flight suit around his waist when he hears footsteps. Then there are hands on him, Bradley’s hands, his eye darker than usual and fixated on Jake’s face, on his lips. He can feel his hands pushing at his flight suit, a hand slipping inside to rub his cock, which never went down fully and Jake groans into the pressure, the confidence of Bradley’s grip on him.

“Jesus Jake… you look so good out there.”

He doesn’t know what to say, what to do, this complete three-sixty in his attitude is dizzying and then Bradley is on his knees in front of him, sucking him down and Jake doesn’t even have time to react before there’s tight-hot-sucking-pressure and he shoves his hand into his mouth and bites down on the fleshy part of his thumb muscle hard. He has no idea if there is anyone else in the locker room, it had been empty when he arrived. Or how close they are to being interrupted, this is the most reckless and stupid thing he’s ever done, and he wasn’t even trying or angling for it. Doesn’t even know if this changes anything. Suspects it doesn’t but he isn’t strong enough to raise any objection, not when it feels so good and exactly what he needs right now.

Bradley doesn’t seem to want to draw it out at all, and it’s not a problem, he just lets himself come as quickly as possible, without any teasing or prolonged buildup, doesn’t need it when it’s so risky and also it’s Bradley’s hands and mouth on him. Asshole. He comes so fucking hard it’s almost painful, and he refuses to think about how the last time he had an orgasm with someone else it was also fucking Bradley Bradshaw. Then Bradley is kissing him, Jake can taste himself and tries not to pull a face, although Bradley is clearly not paying attention, his hand rapidly moving on his own cock and Jake doesn’t have the wherewithal to gather the energy or motivation to help, just watches with half-lidded eyes as Bradley comes all over his stomach.

For the briefest of moments the only sound is their breathing, hard and rasping, then Bradley kisses him again, short and sharp and then mutters about needing a shower and leaves him standing there until he shakes himself out of the stupor of shock and also goes to have a shower. He chooses the cubicle the furthest away and stays under the water until his skin goes wrinkly.

As he suspected would be the case when he gets to the mess hall, Bradley is back to ignoring him.

… … …

His next shore leave he finds someone to take to bed, doesn’t care that it’s not Bradley, just needs to replace the memory of his hands and mouth on him with someone else’s.

It doesn’t work.

… … …

Bradley leaves the carrier and it’s like a weight has lifted but he also finds he still thinks about him too often. Wants to know if he’s safe and wishes he didn’t care so damned much. Javy is there instead though, which is far better and that at least helps ease some of his general unease. Of course the rumors start that he and Javy are more than friends, finally unafraid of showing their love or whatever bullshit the rumor mill is churning out. Javy just rolls his eyes and jokes, says they’re going to get married for the benefits and Jake forces himself to laugh and play along and not wonder how his life could be different.

THIRTEEN (2012)

#Saga of Solitude #IceMav #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #Hangster

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candycandy00 · 4 days

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Sneak Preview of Come Find Me - A Hawks x Reader x Dabi Horror Fanfic

This is just a preview of my upcoming fic. The full fanfic will be posted in a few days. There’s nothing explicit in this preview but the full story will feature dark content! Enjoy!

***********************

You step out of your parents’ house, closing the door behind you and making sure your phone is crammed into your small purse. As you step off the porch and into the driveway, you hear a familiar voice call your name. You turn to see your next door neighbor and childhood friend Touya crossing over into your yard.

“Goin’ somewhere?” he asks, glancing at his watch.

“Yeah, just gotta grab a few things at the store for mom,” you reply.

He stands there awkwardly for a moment, looking around. “It’s gettin’ pretty dark. Want me to go with you?”

You smile at his concern. The two of you are both in college, but still live in your childhood homes for now. Partly because you’re hesitant to separate. You’ve been in love with him since you were children, and only recently confessed your feelings to him. In true Touya fashion, he’d scoffed, looked away, and blushed before quietly admitting that he felt the same way.

You’re still trying to navigate this new dynamic in your relationship. You’ve only been on a couple of dates so far, and only had your first kiss three days ago as the two of you sat on your bed watching a movie. Despite being adults, you feel like teenagers sneaking around. Touya suggested taking a weekend trip just to have some privacy. You’re excited for what might happen when you’re truly alone together.

“I’ll be fine,” you tell him. “I’m just going to the convenience store down the street.”

He frowns. “Yeah, but with those rumors going around…”

“I’ll take mom’s car, okay? Seriously, I’ll be fine. We used to walk to that store all the time when we were kids, remember?”

You understand his concern. For the past few months, women around your age have been turning up dead, their bodies butchered in horrific ways. Rumors have been going around that they all had one thing in common besides being in their early twenties.

All of them had high levels of Cupid’s Arrow in their system.

Cupid’s Arrow is a new, very dangerous drug that you had zero interest in until the rumors started. After all, you’ve never tried anything stronger than some cheap weed Touya bought from a friend when you were both teenagers. And Cupid’s Arrow is powerful, with terrifying effects.

Anyone given Cupid’s Arrow will immediately develop an intense romantic and sexual obsession with the first person they see after taking it. The effect is so strong that the user will do literally anything to please the object of their obsession, even if it results in great harm.

Apparently, some couples who are into more extreme activities like to try using it, and some couples have used it as a way of proving their trust in each other. And of course, like with all things, there are people who use it to abuse others, basically turning people into their own brainwashed sex slaves.

The idea of these poor women being given the drug, being abused in some disgusting way, and then murdered while still on the drug, disturbs you greatly. The poor things probably laid there and let the killer chop them up, all the while looking at him adoringly. The thought sends shivers down your spine.

Still, the women were all found near the city, not out in the suburbs where you live. And the store is close by. What kind of life is it if a grown woman can’t go to a store by herself?

You give Touya a kiss on the cheek and climb into your mom’s car. “I’ll be right back,” you tell him.

He still looks worried as he watches you pull out of the driveway, throwing his hand up in somewhat awkward wave.

The drive there is brief and uneventful, and the small store is uncrowded. You quickly gather up the items your mom needed and a couple of snacks for yourself, then start toward the front to check out. That’s when you remember Touya waiting for you, and decide to pick up something for him.

You head back down the snack aisle again, barely noticing the other person walking down it. You stop and look over the various bags and packages until you spot the strawberry pocky Touya loves. You smile to yourself as you reach out to grab the last pack. Suddenly, another hand is reaching toward the pocky, brushing against your own.

You draw back, looking at the man standing next to you. He’s just a few inches taller than you, with wavy dark blonde hair and sharp, golden eyes.

“Oh, sorry!” he says, his face breaking into a friendly smile. He’s very good looking, though you think Touya is much hotter.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, returning the smile, “you can have it.”

“Oh no, sweetheart, you take it,” he says, flashing a grin.

You blink at the pet name, but decide to quickly make it clear that you’re taken. “I was just picking them up for my boyfriend. I can get him something else.”

If he’s deterred at all by your comment, he doesn’t show it. Instead he grabs the pack of pocky and casually tosses them into your basket. “Don’t worry about it. I think I’m hungry for something different anyway.”

You’re not sure if he’s being suggestive or nice, so you give him an uneasy smile and nod before walking to the counter to pay, leaving him to continue browsing the snacks.

When you step out into the cool evening air, you sigh as you hear your phone chime. You hope it’s not a message from your mom, adding another item to the list. You shift your bags to one arm and then dig your phone out of your purse, pausing in the middle of the parking lot to look at the screen.

You smile. It’s a message from Touya, asking how the shopping trip is going. He really does worry too much.

“Just leaving the store,” you type back. “See you soon.”

Just as you start to drop your phone back into your purse, you suddenly sense movement behind you. But before you can turn to look back, a white cloth covers your mouth and nose. You smell a strange chemical odor as your body becomes weak. Your bags, phone, and purse drop to the ground.

A familiar, friendly voice at your ear says, “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m taking you home with me.”

You want to fight, to struggle, but all strength has left your body. You’ve gone limp in his arms, and now, darkness overtakes you.

#hawks x reader x dabi #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #touya x reader

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writtenbymisunderstoodnerds · 1 year

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I never wanted this, but maybe it's not such a bad thing part 3 (Preath x Reader)

It's been a long couple of weeks, but I finally finished part 3! This is not edited so mind any mistakes. I'm not sure if I'll do another part yet, let me know what you think. There's a bit of a time jump at the end. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Smut

Part one, Part two

Words: 6.1K

As Tobin went to lie down next to Christen, I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her down in the middle and peppering her cheek with kisses. Tobin giggled, pecking my lips, "This isn't our normal order."

"Gotta spice things up occasionally. Do you want to come surfing with me tomorrow Tobes? I have a spare board and wetsuit, we just have to stop by my house. Maybe the three of us could get brunch after?"

Christen nudged Tobin when she took a while to answer. I appreciated what she was doing, but tonight was a big step already. I didn't want her to feel pressured. "You know what, I would love that. You can't judge how well I do though, it's been a while since I've been."

"Can I come watch?"

"You wanna watch us with our wet suits down Chris? I know Tobin enjoyed it once upon a time."

Tobin went red, hiding her face against Christens shoulder. Christen laughed, patting Tobin's shoulder, "You know what, I don't even blame her. There's no denying you have great abs."

"It's for the ladies, two in particular. You might know them, dark haired, insanely beautiful. Ring a bell?"

Tobin finally looked at me again, smirk growing, "Oh you mean those marine buddies of yours we met the other day?"

"Exactly." I kissed them both, soft and slow, "You two are the most beautiful people I've ever met. And I know people just say that, I know there are subjectively more attractive people out there, but to me, there's no competition, no one compares to you guys."

Tobin kissed me, filled with the same passion as the first time, "You're not so bad yourself."

Christens eyebrows furrowed, "Agreed. What's gotten into you? I'm not complaining, I've just never seen you so sappy."

"I'm just happy. I've been in a lot of relationships in my time, some great, some not, but I've never felt this way before. We're soulmates, I know it's kinda the whole concept behind it, I just don't believe that's the only thing that influences this. You know I was terrified coming into this, that I would only feel the soulmate connection, nothing more. So yeah, I'm happy that's not the case, because you two are amazing. Sorry for being sappy, I'm just trying to be more honest. It's not always easy for me, I want us to last though so I'm trying."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with you being sappy Y/n/n. It's just different so I got a bit worried maybe something was wrong. We know it's hard for you to talk about feelings, but we're always here for you. Even if it's not always good feelings, you can always come to us, even if it's just one of us. We will never judge you or make you feel like you can't talk about it."

I fought back the tears, in all my relationships no one had ever cared about me as much as they did, I had never felt like I could open up as I did with them. I mean what I had already told them more than I had with anyone, Ali and Ash included, "Thank you. It works both way, anything you guys need, I'm here for you."

The movie had just finished, I knew it was late, but looking at my phone confirmed it. I kissed them both before reluctantly sitting up on the side of the bed. "It's getting late, I should head back to my room."

A hand on my arm stopped me, turning around I found Tobin looking up at me with a small, unsure smile, "You could stay?"

"Are you sure? You don't have to push yourself Tobin. We've already made a lot of progress today. I don't want you to move too quickly and be uncomfortable."

"I know it's quick, but honestly tonight has been amazing and I don't want you to go. We would love if you stayed if you maybe wanted to."

"I um, I don't want to wake you guys up in the middle of the night with my nig-"

Christen came back from the bathroom, kissing me before I could finish, "We don't care about that Y/n, if you have a nightmare then we'll be here to help you through it. This is part of being with you and we're okay with that."

"Okay, let me go brush my teeth and get changed. I'll be back in a minute."

It took me a long time to fall asleep, the worry of having a nightmare and waking them up running through my mind. Despite what they said, I didn't want want them to deal with it on the first night we stayed together. It was still embarrassing that after a year, I still had nightmares.

To my complete surprise, I didn't have a nightmare. I had had one every night since camp started which was typical when staying in an unfamiliar place, but with them I didn't. It wasn't the longest sleep, but I had slept the best I had in a long time. Christen and Tobin were still asleep when I woke up so I kissed their cheeks and slipped out of bed to get coffee from down the street. Apparently everyone wanted coffee this morning so it had taken longer then anticipated. When I got back Tobin was the only one awake, she looked sad until she actually looked up at me. I guess it had looked like I had just left them. I gave her a long, slow kiss before handing her the coffee.

"Good morning beautiful. I'm sorry I should have messaged you, the line was longer than I anticipated."

"Good morning baby, it's okay, I'm just glad you came back."

"There's no where else I'd rather be. We're going surfing remember."

Tobin pulled me closer so I was straddling her waist, "I admit I was scared you had just left us."

"Never. I promise if I was ever going and not coming back I will let you know. Do you want me to let you know even if I'm just popping out for coffee?"

She avoided my eyes, cheeks turning red, "Maybe, just for a little while at least. I'm sorry, I ju-"

I cupped Tobin's cheek, kissing her forehead, nose, cheeks and lips, "Don't apologise Tobin, if it makes you more comfortable then I'm 100% okay with it. All it takes is 2 seconds to send a text."

Christen rolled over, sleepy smirk in place, "What's going on here?"

I brushed a piece of hair out of Tobin's face, before leaning down and pecking Christens lips, "Just some morning reassurance. I got you coffee."

---

Sloane ran up to me, cuddling into me as I picked her up. It had been a while since we had proper cuddles. At home we always end the night with cuddles before she went to bed. It was a routine I've missed. Ashlyn and Ali hugged me as well, before Ashlyn spoke up, "Hey Y/n/n, do you wanna get lunch with us today? It's been a while since we hung out. We miss you."

Guilt hit me instantly. I hadn't really seen them much recently with all my time going to Tobin and Christen. I also felt bad because they didn't know about us yet. Normally, I told Ash everything, but I had been so caught up in the newness of my relationship, I hadn't told them. Tobin, Christen and I had lunch plans, I couldn't say no to Ash though, I guess I had some making up to do, "I would love to."

"Awesome, meet you here in an hour."

I went straight to Christen and Tobin's room, nerves starting to rise as I waited for them to answer. I didn't know how they would react to me cancelling last minute. Christen answered with a wide smile, "We really need to get you a key."

"Uh yeah."

Tobin eyed me suspiciously, "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry."

"What for? What happened?"

"Um I need to cancel lunch. I'm sorry. Of course I wanted to have lunch with you, but then Ash asked me to have lunch with them because they miss me and I haven't actually spent any time with them lately and I actually really miss them and I feel like a bad sister and a bad girlfri-"

The rambling died as Christens lips connected with mine, "Y/n, take a breath. It's okay, we understand. Ash is your sister, you need to spend time with her. We can hang out after."

"Are you sure?"

Tobin was the one this time to take my hand and kiss me, "Yes, go have fun with your family. We expect to see you tonight though."

I pulled them down on the bed with me, both of them cuddling into my sides, "Wouldn't miss it for the world. I've got just under an hour until I meet them so we have some cuddle time."

Tobin cupped my cheek, lips gliding across mine, filled with passion and want. Her tongue ran across my bottom lip, slipping in as my lips parted. We fought for dominance with me quickly winning. Tobin pulled me on top of her, hand slipping under my shirt, resting on my lower back. After a few minutes of making out, I remembered Christen was there and slowly pulled away, breathing heavy.

"Sorry Chris."

Christen just smiled, guiding me over to her instead, "Don't apologise, I don't mind a good show every now and then. Can I get in on the action though?"

I hovered just above her, lips brushing hers, "I suppose that could be acceptable."

I lost track of how long we were making out, but when hands started wandering, I reluctantly pulled away, "We need to stop because I need to leave soon and if we keep going I don't think I'll be able to stop."

Christen groaned as I settled between them again, "I hate that you're right."

Even though I was missing out on time with Christen and Tobin, I was glad that I agreed to lunch. It hadn't hit me how much I missed them until I was sitting with them, colouring a picture with Sloane as I talked with Ali and Ashlyn. We made it maybe half an hour before Ashlyn asked the question I was fully expecting, "So what's going on with you lately? You've been absent lately, is everything okay?"

"Uh yeah, honestly everything is amazing. I need to tell you something, I didn't mean to hide it from you, I just got distracted I guess. Christen, Tobin and I are together."

Ali looked confused, "Wait, as in girlfriends? I thought you weren't interested in the whole soulmate thing?"

"I'm not, but we talked that day in the elevator about getting to know each other before I shut it down completely. The more I got to know them, the more I fell for them. I've never felt this way before. I haven't had a nightmare in almost two weeks since I've been staying with them. I get so giddy when I'm around them, like I never want to leave."

"That's amazing Y/n. We're so happy for you."

"You're not mad I didn't tell you?"

Ash hugged me tightly, kissing my cheek, "Of course not, it's new, exciting, you got sucked in. I don't know if you remember, but I was the same way with Ali. I'm really glad you're happy Y/n, you deserve it. Even if it is with the soul mates you never wanted."

"Yeah well, they're not so bad after all. Tobin still has some worries that I'll change my mind, but she's trying and I'm doing my best to reassure her. I hate it that she doubts me, but she's worth it. Christen is pretty much what you see is what you get, but there's a side of Tobin that no one else sees. The soft, loving, shy, somewhat insecure side. I love that side of her and I want to be privy to it for as long as she'll let me."

We spent a few hours hanging out, eating and playing at the park before the kids started getting grumpy so we made our way back to the hotel. I went back to Christens and Tobin's room where we spent the rest of the night watching movies and cuddling.

---

Camp had finally come to an end, meaning by the end of the day, all three of us would be in a different part of the country until the next camp. It was only just over a month, but I already knew I was going to miss them. I hugged them tightly, trying to keep my tears away. It wasn't working though, "I'm going to miss you."

Christen sniffed, hiding her face further against my chest, "I wish we could stay together."

I held her tightly, hands running along her back as she cried. My own tears slowly running down my cheeks. Over the last few weeks, I had gotten used to being around them, I loved being with them. The last thing I wanted was to be away from them. I know there was facetime and it was only going to be a month, but it wasn't the same as falling asleep next to them, cuddling with them, being around them. There was also a slight fear of something changing. We had only been together for a few weeks, what if the distance so early on changed something, affected our relationship. I tried my best to push that thought away, instead focusing on making the most of the time with my girls. I reached out pulling Tobin back into the hug, holding her just as tight as Christen. We cuddled on the bed with me in the middle, both of them holding me tightly.

Tobin had been quiet all morning, and I was starting to get worried. Christen had popped out so it gave me the chance to talk to her. I had a feeling I knew what was wrong. Despite the progress we had made, I knew she still worried that I would change my mind. I hated that she still worried, but I would keep doing everything I could to make her worries go away, even if it took a while.

"Hey, what's going on Toby? You've been quieter than normal today."

"My thoughts are going crazy right now."

I sat down on the ground in front of her, pulling her so she was sitting in my lap, "You have no idea how much I'm going to miss you Tobin. Just the idea of being away from you hurts. You can expect messages and facetimes every day, you'll be sick of me by the end of it. There'll be no going back though, you're stuck with me now."

"It's a good thing I don't mind then isn't it?"

"Definitely. You can call me anytime, I can't promise to always answer straight away, but I'll do my very best."

"Ditto. Thank you Y/n."

"What for?"

"For being so understanding. Most people would have ran for the hills if their girlfriend doubted them as much as I do you, but you've stuck by me."

"Hey, while I hate that you still doubt me sometimes, I understand why you feel the way you do. I'm serious about us so I'm willing to provide as much reassurance as needed for as long as needed. A bit of distance isn't going to change that."

---

Today had been crazy. Between practice, media and team bonding, I was only able to reply to maybe one or two texts from Christen and Tobin. I had made sure to tell them I was busy, but it didn't make me feel any better. As soon as I got home and showered, I made sure they were awake before facetiming. It was 2am and I was exhausted, but talking to them made it worth it. Tobin was the only one awake, her tired self answering almost immediately.

You look tired Toby.

I am.

You should get some sleep.

I wanted to talk to you first, I missed you today.

I missed you too baby. I'm sorry I couldn't reply much today, it was hectic.

It's okay, in our job it happens. Thank you for calling, even though you look like you're about to pass out. I know it's late, but have you been sleeping okay?

Our facetimes are my favourite part of the day, I wouldn't ever miss it if I could help it. Sometimes, the nightmares are back, not as frequent, but they're there and I miss cuddling with you two.

Aww baby, I'm sorry. Two weeks and we'll be back together. We can talk to coach about us sharing a room this time if you might want to? I mean you stay with us anyway, might as well not take up another room.

I would love that

We talked for a bit longer before the yawns wouldn't stop and we decided it was best to get some sleep.

Can you stay on the phone with me?

Of course. Goodnight Tobin, I love you

My eyes widened at the admission that slipped out. Yes it was true, I had fallen in love with them both, but it wasn't supposed to come out yet. I had intended to wait longer before telling them because it felt too soon to have those feelings. I fought the urge to hang up and hide as a grin slowly appeared on Tobin's face.

I love you Y/n. Do you uh feel this way about Chris as well?

I do, I'm in love with you both. It wasn't supposed to come out this early though. Do you think I should tell her?

Definitely, I won't be able to stop myself from saying it and I'm almost certain she'll feel the same way about you.

Okay, get some sleep and hopefully we can squeeze in a call with Chris in the morning

I was woken up by talking on the other end of the phone. It wasn't just Tobin. I peeked at the phone, seeing Christen had joined. It was 10:30am meaning it was only 7:30am for them.

You're awake early

Good morning sleepy head, I woke up when Chris joined

Good morning baby, you looked like you slept well

I think knowing Tobin was there made it easier.

I'm sorry I missed the call last night

It's okay Chris. I need to tell you something

What is it?

I accidently let it slip out to Tobin last night, but you should know that I love you

A wide grin appeared instantly as she replied with no hesitation, I love you Y/n

---

Ashlyn, Ali and the kids had already left for the next camp having decided to spend an extra couple of days. A mini holiday of sorts. They had asked if I wanted to come, but I had some last minute work to finish. It had only been just over a month, but I was at the point where I really missed my girls. I had never expected to miss them as much as I did, but it was hitting me hard and I was just down. I didn't want to bring them down with my mood. I hadn't heard from Christen and Tobin today, besides a good morning text so I was drowning my emotions in work.

The doorbell rang loudly throughout the house. I was tempted to ignore it, but decided against it and threw the door open, freezing when I saw the two girls I had been missing like crazy. When I snapped out of it, my arms wrapping around them both tightly. I sunk into their touch, pulling them closer when one of them tried to pull away. I didn't want to let them go yet.

"I missed you so much. What are you doing here?"

"We had a few days off before camp and really just wanted to see you. I know a few days would have made much of a difference, but well we missed you Y/n."

I kissed them both soft and slow, savoring the feeling of their lips, "I'm glad you're here."

We cuddled on my bed for a while before Christen volunteered to get dinner while I finished up some work with Tobin cuddled into my side. It didn't take long to finish the work that needed doing tonight. Once I put my laptop down, I pulled Tobin onto my lap, kissing her softly, "I missed you two so much Toby. I'm really glad we're back together."

Tobin rest her head against my shoulder, "Us too Y/n. Thank you for all the random facetimes and reassurances. I know it meant a lot of late nights for you."

"Seeing you and Chris is worth endless late nights."

"I love you Y/n."

"I love you too Toby."

Kisses were placed along my neck, a quiet moan escaped as I angled my head to give her more room. Tobin straddled my waist, pushing me back before leaving slightly harder kisses across my jaw and down my throat until she reached my collar bone. I gripped her hips, moaning a little louder this time as she started sucking and scraping my skin with her teeth. "Fuck T-Toby."

I was caught up in the pleasure that I didn't notice that Christen had come back until a second pair of lips attached themselves to my neck. Before I could open my eyes lips attached to mine. I instantly knew it was Christen, "Welcome back Chris."

"How'd you know it was me?"

"You two kiss differently, both just as amazing, but different."

Christen ran her fingers from one collar bone to the other, "I see you two had fun while I was gone."

"Toby how many marks did you leave?"

"Just a few."

"Tobin! Everyone's going to see them."

"I didn't hear you complaining."

I flipped her over, "Paybacks a bitch."

"Fuck Y/n," Tobin moaned as I nipped and sucked at her skin, before she pushed my head down closer to her breasts.

"Are you sure?" I asked looking at both Christen and Tobin.

Tobin nodded quickly while Christen reached over, slipping Tobin's shirt off with an innocent smile. I hooked my hand around the back of her neck, accidently gripping her hair slightly and connected our lips in a lingering kiss. Christen moaned quietly against my lips, making me smirk, "Don't think you're safe Chris. I know this side was you."

Christen just shrugged as I went back to taking in the half naked Tobin currently pinned under me, "You are stunning Tobin."

I lent down, kissing along her bra line leaving dark marks as I went. Tobin was squirming, trying to push my head further down. Before she could, I pulled away, moving over to Christen instead. Tobin whined, but watched closely as I started on Christens neck, leaving a few dark marks before moving down to the top of her t-shirt, waiting for her permission before slipping her shirt over her head, "How did I end up with two absolutely stunning women."

As I attacked Christens chest, I felt Tobin's hands start to wander, drawing random patterns under my shirt, along my back and stomach getting dangerously close to the waist band of my shorts. I finally pulled away when Tobin tugged at my top. She pulled it off, both of them staring at my abs. Christen reached up, running her fingers down my stomach stopping at my waistband and playing with the draw strings, making me shiver at the feeling. I laced my fingers with hers, kissing the back of her hand.

"Are you sure you guys want to do this? We don't have to go past this." I didn't want them to think that they had to do this if they thought it was too early. Sex wasn't that important to me, I just wanted to be with them. I was also worried that maybe they were only doing this with me out of obligation and that they didn't actually want me as part of it. I had also never done it with 2 people before, I didn't know if I would be any good. It was a big step in our relationship and honestly, I was nervous.

Christen squeezed my hand, as Tobin pecked my lips, "Baby, you have no idea how much we talked about you during our less than innocent facetime calls when you were busy."

"You have no idea how much we want you. We can wait if you want to, if you're not sure about this."

"Really? Y-you t-talked about me?"

"More than we would admit. We love you Y/n, we are so insanely attracted to you it's not even funny."

"I-I-I've never been with t-two p-people before."

"It's not much different to one, just do what you do, but double it. You'll figure out what we each like pretty easily and we're here with you every step of the way. There's no rush if you're not ready yet Y/n."

I looked at them for a second. I was ridiculously attracted to them. There was no doubt that I wanted them. I smirked, pulling Christen up and tangling my fingers in her hair, tugging lightly as I connected our lips, biting her bottom lip gently as I pulled away, "I think I already know what you like."

Christen moaned, nails digging into my back to pull me against her, "Y-y-you're not w-wrong."

Tobin smirked, running her fingers across Christens back, "It drives her crazy."

My lips attached to Christen neck as I pushed her back, working my way down her chest and reaching round to unclip her bra. My fingers ran dipped between her breasts, trailing beneath them. Her breath hitched, fingers digging into my thighs, "P-please."

I glanced at Tobin, feeling bad about giving all the attention to Christen. Tobin just nodded, moving to take one of Christens nipples into her mouth as I followed suit with the other. Christen gasped hands tangling in both of our hair. It didn't take long for her to turn into a moaning mess, bucking her hips and trying to push my head down. I pulled away, waiting for her to nod before slipping her pants and underwear off. I took her in for a second, admiring her long tan legs, toned stomach, small but perfect breasts and beautiful eyes filled with want.

Before moving any further with Christen, I connected my lips with Tobin. I didn't know what I was doing with two of them, but I wanted them to both feel wanted. I took my time with Tobin, with the help of Christen, stripping her down and working her up. I couldn't get enough of their moans, their touches, their pleads for more. It was driving me crazy, but I wanted to focus on them first. I figured the best way to ensure pleasure for them both was to have us all participating. I guided Christen so she was hovering over Tobin's face.

Christen moaned loudly at the same time I licked a line through Tobin's folds drawing a muffled moan which drew another needy moan from Christen. As Tobin worked Christen closer to the edge, I focused back on exploring Tobin. My tongue circled her clit, her hips bucking for more. Two fingers slipped easily into her, a loud, muffled moan slipped from Tobin. I pumped my fingers slowly, curling every few thrusts as I pulled away, watching as Tobin wrapped her arms around Christen's thighs, eating her out faster and harder, muffled moans falling uncontrollably. Christen head was thrown back, loud, needy moans slipping out as she reached behind her, gripping the head board for support.

As much as I wanted to get them to come at the same time, I wanted to take my time getting to know what Tobin liked, what drove her crazy. It didn't take long for Christen to tense, moans louder than before, legs shaking as she shook. Once her high passed, she fell back against the headboard, breathing heavy. My fingers never stopped, maintaining the same slow pace that slowly turned Tobin into a moaning, pleading mess. I lent forward, kissing Tobin, moaning at the taste of Christen left behind. Christen moved behind Tobin so her head was resting against her stomach, hands moving to play with Tobin's breasts. Her back arched, hips bucking. "B-baby p-p-please. I-I need-"

Tobin cut herself off with a moan as my fingers curled. I kissed Christen before moving back down, fingers thrusting harder and faster as my tongue flicked her clit. My lips wrapped around her clit, sucking hard. She tightened around my fingers, spasming and tensing as she fell over the edge. I helped her through before cleaning her up and pulling away. Christen took my hand cleaning my fingers as I settled beside them.

"H-holy fuck y-you're amazing baby," Tobin managed between ragged breaths. I laughed, kissing her cheek and pulling her closer.

"I aim to please."

After catching her breath, Tobin turned over kissing between Christens breasts before turning to me, "You've got way too many clothes on and we're so not done yet."

---

Things were getting hard. Not with Christen and Tobin, we were still going strong almost two years into our relationship. Things weren't always easy. Between navigating a three person relationship, living in three different cities and them spending some time playing overseas, we had our struggles, but we were stronger for it. The problem was, I was really starting to struggle with the distance. We saw each other as often as we could, facetimed pretty much everyday even when they were overseas. It sucked, but it was manageable until recently that is. All I wanted was to be with them, but it didn't seem to be possible. I was almost constantly down, irritable, distracted if I wasn't with or talking to them. I cried after hanging up with them and crying wasn't something I normally did.

This was something I had tried my best not to let them see. There was nothing that could be done and the intensity of these feelings would likely fade in a few weeks, so I didn't see the point in worrying them. Ashlyn and Ali had picked up on my mood change, they hadn't brought it up yet, but they had been trying to take my mind off it without pushing too much. They knew I would bring it up if I wanted to.

"Hey, you okay?" Ali asked sitting on the deck chair next to me. I had just finished talking to Christen and Tobin

"I'm not, but I will be."

"I'm here if you want to talk about it Y/n."

I sighed, "I just miss them, more than I know how to cope with right now."

"I get that. Have you talked to them about it? Maybe they can help make things a little easier to cope with?"

"There's nothing we can do about it, I don't want to worry them. I'm sure it'll pass, if not I'll figure it out. Thank you Ali."

The next day, I was sitting down on the beach after surfing, knees pulled up to my chest as I watched the waves. It was the spot where things were most peaceful, where my mind wasn't quite so loud. I was completely zoned out when a hand landed on each knee. I recoganised the ring on one of the hands. It was Christen. I didn't look though, they weren't supposed to be there so I had convinced myself that I was imagining things. When nails ran down my back, I snapped out of it and actually looked beside me. They were actually there. Sitting beside me, looking rather concerned. I lent against Tobin's side as Christens arm wrapped around me. I couldn't bring myself to say anything or even really be excited that they were there. I was too stuck in my head.

Tobin kissed my forehead, "What's wrong my love?"

"You don't have to tell us right now, but you've been off the last little while and we're worried."

At that I couldn't stop the tears from falling as I cried against Tobin's shoulder. They had seen me cry a few times, but it was normally short and quiet. This time though, I let everything out, not that I could stop it anyway.

"I'm struggling."

"Can you tell us what with?"

"You guys not being here. The distance. I miss you so much it hurts. I just want you guys here and I'm having a hard time dealing with the fact that you're not."

Christen laced her fingers with mine, kissing my temple, "We're not doing much better. We actually wanted to talk to you about that though."

"About what?"

Tobin was the one to speak this time, hand still running across my back, "Moving in together. I know there's quite a lot of logistics around that, but when we were overseas, living together and seeing each other everyday, we realised how much we actually wanted to be close together, live together permanently. It was great, but there was one major thing missing."

"W-what?"

"You Y/n. Every day we would wake up and go to bed, wishing more than anything that you were with us. I know there's a lot we would need to figure out, like where, when, that sort of thing, but will you move in with us?"

I pulled them both into a hug so quickly that we fell backwards. Maybe it wouldn't be the easiest thing to figure out, but all I wanted was to be with them, "Yes, yes I would love that. I don't even care where, I just want to be with you guys."

I held them for a minute before finally realising that they weren't supposed to be here, "Why are you guys here? Don't you have training?"

"You haven't been yourself lately, as much as you tried to hide it, we noticed. You weren't smiling, laughing or joking as much, you looked tired all the. We got worried, Ali and Ash said something was up but you weren't talking to them. There was only one day of training before we had a few days off so our coached let us go. It's only for a few days, but we wanted to come see you, see if we could finally get you to talk to us."

"Thank you. I really needed to see you both. I love you."

Tobin kissed me, filled with passion and want as always, I sunk into it, holding her close. The first kiss once I saw them again was always the best. The sense of peace and calmness that washed over me when I kissed them was a feeling I never wanted to go away, "I love you Y/n. I know you didn't want to worry us, that was the one thing Ali could tell us, but please just talk to us next time. You not talking to us, worries us more."

I left a lingering kiss against Christens lips and resting my forehead against hers, "I'm sorry, I didn't want to worry you. I promise to talk to you in the future. Thank you for coming."

"Always."

"I vote LA." Tobin spoke up making me pull away from Christen confused as to what she was talking about. "I vote we move to LA. Warm weather, good surf and I know Angel FC might be interested in signing me."

Christen looked at Tobin, smile slowly making it's way onto her face. I guess they hadn't talked about it, "R-really? You'd want to move to LA?"

"I know how much you love Angel FC and LA, I wouldn't ask you to leave that. Besides we know Y/n is obsessed with surfing."

"I wouldn't be opposed to that, I can work from anywhere. Only thing is Ash, Ali and the kids, I don't want to miss seeing them grow up so it would mean frequent trips to see them. If you can deal with that then I'm all for LA."

"Of course we can, they're your family. We'll figure it out in time."

"Sooner rather than later please."

They both held me tightly as I watched the water once again. I felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted. Not just because of the idea of moving in with them, but because they knew I needed them and they didn't hesitate to fly out for me. At one point they were the people I didn't want, but now I couldn't imagine my life without them. Maybe things weren't always going to be easy, there will be up's and downs, change and sacrifices. With them though, it would all be worth it.

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