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#and then told me i inspired them to finish the chapter
joelsgreys · 2 days
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a safe haven l ten
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter
summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.
word count: 5k
a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?
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“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”
Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.
“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”
“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”
He shakes his head in utter exasperation.
“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”
Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.
Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.
Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”
He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.
Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.
Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.
Exactly how far had Luke taken it?
Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?
Until you almost lost complete consciousness?
Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?
Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?
Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.
This shouldn’t have happened.
He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.
This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.
“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.
His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.
Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.
But can you honestly fault him for that?
How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?
Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.
And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.
He should have done something.
Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.
“Joel—”
“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.
Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.
“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”
With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”
“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.
“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”
“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.
Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.
His brother wouldn’t believe it.
“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”
“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”
There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.
Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.
Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”
“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.
“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”
Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.
“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”
Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”
He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”
She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”
“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”
He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.
“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”
He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”
“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”
“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”
Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.
Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”
“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”
He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.
“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”
“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”
“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”
Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”
Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.
“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”
He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”
She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”
“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”
Maria gives his arm another squeeze. 
“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”
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“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.
“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”
She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.
He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”
“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”
Moments later, you both hear the shower going.
“Little shit,” he grumbles.
You exhale an amused huff through your nose.
Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”
Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”
“Runnin’ you a bath.”
You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”
“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”
You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”
“I know.”
“I’m capable of washing myself—”
“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”
That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.
“But your hand—”
“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”
Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.
“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.
Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.
Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.
Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”
You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.
“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”
You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.
He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.
As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.
“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?
The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.
Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.
“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”
“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”
He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.
You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.
“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”
A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”
He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.
“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”
Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”
Home.
You’re home.
He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.
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It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.
He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.
“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.
“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”
“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”
You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”
“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”
“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”
Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”
Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.
“I—I’m not too sure.”
“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”
Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”
“But—”
“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.
She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”
“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”
“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”
“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”
“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”
She disappears, closing the door behind her.
“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”
“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”
“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”
Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.
“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”
“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”
“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”
Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.
“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”
Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.
“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.
“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.
He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.
Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”
Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.
You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.
“Joel? What’s the matter?”
“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.
“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.
Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”
“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”
Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.
You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.
Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.
Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”
“You’re going to build the crib?”
He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”
“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”
“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”
You fall silent.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”
He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”
His declaration comes with natural ease.
And so does yours.
“I love you too, Joel.”
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magpiepills · 2 days
Text
Made Me Love You
Chapter 2
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Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ ONLY! MDNI
Pairing: Tommy Miller x AFAB reader, Joel Milled x AFAB reader
work count: 3.7
Summary: you and Joel are left to your own devices after a night of debauchery with Tommy and emotions run high.
Warnings: smut, PIV, Unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, infidelity, size kink, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, cum eating, feelings, angst. No use of Y/N no established age gap, no physical description of reader, angst, etc.
A word from the author: this is a repost! I don’t normally like to get too plot heavy because I prefer to jam-pack my writing with wall to wall smut, but I didn’t think I could continue this story without some plot. Don’t worry, though, it’s still plenty explicit. I think I may have one more chapter in me to finish out this story, maybe two. I can’t make promises, though. If you see spelling and/or grammar mistakes, just ignore those. I write all this on a phone with a broken screen. Hope you enjoy! Big kiss to the ✨magic sluts✨ for the inspiration.
Tommy didn’t wake you before he slipped out for a long day checking over a new job site. He had left you sleeping peacefully, alone in the bed you’d shared, where he and his brother had both fucked you thoroughly last night. Your sleep was deep and dreamless. Just like you had wanted, and you awoke slowly, tangled in the sheet, naked and warm. You looked around and let the memory of the night before play back in your mind. It made your heart ache. The room was quiet and still, with sunlight slanting in through the curtains. When you rolled over, Joel was there, in his own bed, face squished into his pillow, looking at you as if waiting for you to tell him what to do, but you just met his gaze and looked into his eyes for a while across the narrow space between your beds, each of you at the end of an invisible tether.
Joel had woken up early, he never slept well but it was pointless to even try after what had happened.
“Hungry?”
“Mm. Coffee maybe.” You kept the conversation simple, not wanting to get into the messy tangle you’d tied with him last night at 8am. You stretched, arching your back into the mattress. You realized that you were still naked under the sheets, and debated asking Joel to hand you your robe but the little part of you that liked teasing him won out, and you slipped out of bed naked to saunter to the bathroom. You didn't check to see if he was looking.
You took a long shower, repeating your routine while replaying everything that had happened in your mind, remembering everything they had said. Everything Joel had said. You didn’t regret it exactly, but you hadn’t given any thought to how things would be between the three of you now. Part of you hoped you’d never speak of it again, never acknowledge it, wipe the whole thing from your memories, only revisiting it when you were all alone and certain that no one could hear you thinking. Another part wanted every night to be an encore, the three of you falling into an easy rhythm of generous sex in dim hotel rooms. That couldn’t happen, though. Another part, a quiet part, wanted Joel to be all yours- wanted him to be the one you would go back home with.
By the time you clicked off the bathroom light, everything was made up in your mind. Last night didn’t happen, there would be no repeat, no need to talk it over, and everything would be just as it had been before. It was easier that way. No proof anything had ever happened existed. If anyone found out it would be because Tommy or Joel had told. You would deny the whole thing, play it off as an inside joke and let them sort the betrayal out for themselves. It was the only option that could make sense, even if it made your chest ache a little, knowing that Joel was everything you wanted and would never have. Not the way you really wanted him, anyway.
You finished primping, put on some sunscreen and your favorite purple swimsuit, and went in search of your book to read by the pool.
Your resolve nearly shattered before you could make it out of the room. Sitting on your bed, next to your book, looking warm and inviting in a dark blue t-shirt and cargo shorts, holding an iced coffee as if he had dropped straight from boyfriend heaven, was Joel. Damn him. He smiled and held out the coffee, and you wanted to melt into his chest. Damn him. “Got donuts too.” His voice was soft and gentle, like he worried he would frighten you away. His eyes are so big and dark and soft and full of things he wanted to tell you. Things he would tell you later.
Your plan hadn’t included a section on explaining to the brothers that none of you were to speak of the event, and were to act as if it were a strange dream. You flipped your book out of the way and sat beside him, hoping that your nerves would settle with some caffeine. Your plan didn’t include him looking this good, either.
“Thanks. You didn’t have to do this.” You tried so hard to sound casual, like you hadn’t cried his name into his shoulder while he fucked you better than anyone ever had before, and that you weren’t still dabbing his cum, commingled with his brother’s from your pussy. He clearly didn’t get the message from your tone, because after he handed you a donut, his hand was on your thigh in an impossibly casual gesture of intimacy.
“I should be taking you out to breakfast after last night.” His voice was an octave lower, and slower. Oh no. “We don’t have to… we can…we could act like that didn’t happen.”
“Is he good to you?” So much for that.
“Yeah, Joel. He’s good. It’s good.”
“He’s away a lot.”
“It’s his job. He’s got to be at the sites. You understand that. You’re away working a lot too.” You can hear the waver in your own voice. You can hear how it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.
“I’m here now.” He said, moving a little closer and gently dragging two thick fingers back and forth across your shoulder.
“We should go to the beach. Make a day of it. Tommy said he wouldn’t be home until late and I don’t want to waste a nice day like this.” He made it easy to read between the lines. “How late did he say?” How much time did you have alone with Joel before Tommy came back? “Six. Maybe later. He’s going to a meeting with the building inspector. We have the whole day.” His eyes searched your face, desperate for you to understand him. Last night wasn’t enough for him.
He watched as you dug through your drawer for the swimsuit you wanted, admiring the soft curves and slopes of your body, greedily staring at all the things he'd only imagined before. Once you were tied into your suit, you turned to Joel and saw he’d changed into the ugliest trunks you’d ever seen in your life. “Joel ..” you gawked at him, they looked too big and the pattern was a garish yellow, blue, and black pattern that your brain couldn’t even make sense of. “What? What’s wrong with them?” He ran his hand over the front, adjusting his half hard cock in the mesh lining, watching you watch him touch himself. “Nothing. Ready to go?” He pulled on a stretched out white t-shirt, zipped a key card into his back pocket, and you slipped out of the hotel into the morning sun. You walked up the beach, avoiding the most obvious topic, and falling into comfortable silence. Your mind swam with conflict. Thoughts of Tommy, your relationship, and how what you really wanted was to stay in the room and fuck Joel again.
When you made it down to the beach, Joel held the little cooler he’d packed in one hand, and took your hand in the other while you carried the bag with your towels and sunscreen. You walked further, looking for a more secluded spot away from your hotel and his arm was around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. It felt so natural to be with him like this that you could easily ignore everything that was wrong. Finally picking a place to set up for the day, Joel rented an umbrella and you laid out the towels side by side, making a solitary little island in the sand for the two of you to live on disconnected from reality for as long as possible.
You took turns rubbing sunscreen into each other. He started with your back, then slid down your arms. He took his time on your chest, his fingertips dimpling the plush swell of your breasts, dipping under the fabric of your top, watching intently how your body responded to his touch. Marveled at how your nipples were hard and pressed against the triangle of your top. Satisfied with his work, he guided you to lean back into your elbows. He squeezed more Hawaiian Tropic into his palm and spread it across your belly. You could have done this yourself, but he didn’t stop and you wanted every bit of contact you could get today.
His touch was tender and slow, working his way over your hips, thighs, calves. He felt like he was getting away with something when he touched you like this. When he was done he handed the bottle to you and laid on his stomach. You straddled him and as you slicked him up, making him smell like an island god, you teased him. “I should leave a bare spot in the shape of my initials. Give you a sunburn tramp stamp.” He scoffed, “Do it. Brand me. Then I’ll put my name on you. Once my name’s on it, it’s mine.” He squinted up at you with one eye and gave your knee a squeeze and rolled under you to lay on his back, his new position letting you feel his hard length against your pussy. You rubbed your core against him as you covered his chest in SPF 50, admiring the freckles that made constellations over his shoulders.
When you were done you moved off his lap, pulling away from his grasp. You took a nectarine from your bag and took a few bites before Joel held your wrist and pulled the fruit to his mouth, holding your gaze he took a bite right over where yours had been in what felt like a small, but profoundly intimate act.
“Come swim with me.” Joel was a strong swimmer, and it was one more thing about him you liked. You always knew you were safe with him. He always knew what to do, he stayed calm, he was strong and big and decisive. Tommy was a good swimmer too, but you knew he couldn’t save you if you were in danger.
Out as far as you could go in the water, you swam, paddling over the waves, floating on your backs, diving under or getting knocked under by early breakers. Joel was always there to turn you right side up, helping readjust your swimsuit while you got your bearings. When it felt like it must be lunch time, you motioned toward the shore. He hesitated, then wrapped his arms around you and took you a little deeper and kissed you. He tasted like saltwater and the nectarine you’d shared.
He held your hips,and pulled you close until his thigh was between your legs, letting you feel how hard he was. No one could see you and no one could stop you from grinding against him, aided by his big, strong hands now palming your ass under your swimsuit. Joel kissed your neck, and slid his right hand over until his fingers covered your pussy, making you whine at the sensation and tighten your grip on his shoulders. He kissed your ear and spoke into it, sounding equal parts surprised and proud. “Wasn’t sure I’d get to touch you like this again, but I think you want it.” He was getting bolder in the privacy of the water. “I think you wanted this before.” He emphasized his point with another firm press against your increasingly sensitive folds. If this was an interrogation, you were folding. “Yeah. Yes. Wanted you before. Wanted this.” You reached between your bodies into his stupid, ugly trunks and found him hard. You stroked him as he continued his ministrations and breathed into your ear as you told him how you’d thought of him when you were alone, making yourself come on your fingers. How you’d pictured him instead of Tommy when there was a cock spurting down your throat, and how you wanted him to overwrite all of your memories and color himself in their place.
He had enough. He pushed you away from his body, and pulled you slowly to shore, taking time to think of baseball, gravel, traffic, bugs, anything to draw the blood away from his cock long enough to get back to the hotel. Back on land, he threw his towel around his neck and wrapped you in yours, rushing you back toward the room the two of you shared with your boyfriend. The walk was silent and heavy with anticipation. Joel kept you tucked tight against his side. In the elevator he took your hand and squeezed it tight, looking down at you and not bothering to hide his desire, but still silent. It was a long ride up. Every time the doors opened and closed, letting other guests on and off at their floors you wanted to scream. Finally, finally back at the room, you barely made it in the door before he was crowding you against the door, holding you, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses over your neck and jaw, before gently pushing you onto your knees. “Just for a minute. Please. I’ve gotta see your lips around me again.”
You liked how he looked when he begged. You made a show of looking up at him as you tugged down those hideous trunks, letting his cock spring free before your face. You grasped the base and gave him a few light licks up the length of his shaft, kissed the blushing head, then wrapped your hand around his shaft to gently pump him while you lavished attention there. His foreskin was smooth and soft on your tongue and slipped back and forth just a bit with your movements. You dropped both hands to your knees and took him further, slowly down, slowly back up, letting him hear you breathe, holding his gaze. He was babbling half coherent praise as you sucked “yeah, just like that. Fuck. So good. So fuckin’ good. Look at you.” You thought he would come in your mouth, but instead he pulled you up and walked you backward toward his bed, guiding you onto your back.
He leaned over you, boxing you in with a muscular arm on either side of your head and a knee between your thighs, tantalizingly close to where you needed to feel him most, but frozen by the charge in the air between you. Joel was looking down at you with a look of menace and tenderness, want and victory. It made your pussy ache. He watched your chest rise and fall, the flush that crept up your chest and neck giving away how needy you were for him.
“Take this off.” He pulled at the strings of your top while you untied the bottom and dispatched it across the room.
He wanted everything all at once. “Hands and knees for me, angel. Come on.” He urged you and helped you position how he wanted you, legs spread wide and back arched in lewd presentation. “Perfect. You’re perfect.” He held you steady with both hands firm on the globes of your ass as he leaned down and licked a broad stripe from your clit to your entrance, taking his time to taste you before retracing his path, firmer this time, pushing his tongue inside you, bringing his thumb to your clit to stroke it softly. Pulling his mouth away, Joel watched himself use his thumb to spread your wetness all around, loving how you wriggled and sighed. “You’re a mess. So wet. Look at that.” He sealed his lips around you once more and sucked firmly on your clit, making you cry his name while your thighs quaked in an all consuming orgasm.
You sank into the soft bedding and caught your breath as he rubbed up and down your thighs. “Fuck me, Joel. Please.”
“Yeah? You want that?” He asked, almost surprised. “Yeah. Ok, baby. Anything you want.”
He stroked himself and notched at your entrance, pushing inside slowly so you could adjust to his size. You whined at the stretch and groaned when he was fully seated, Joel stilled there, letting you feel his weight, his heavy cock, and kissed your jaw. “I don’t think I can let him have you back.” He didn’t give you time to absorb what he was saying, he pulled back slowly, then thrust forward a little faster, angling his hips to grind his pubic bone against your clit while letting him watch himself fuck you. His filthy narration had you on the edge.
“I love how you take me. Squeeze my cock so fucking tight.” He moaned into your shoulder, a deep, rough sound, he had to stop himself from sucking dark purple marks into your neck. “Look so pretty on this big cock. Gonna come for me one more time?” Joel kept his pace and babbled to you, letting one hand wander to your tits to brush over your sensitive nipples, or down to grab your ass and pull you tight against him. “Won’t last much longer, baby I’m sorry. Where do you want me?”
You really wanted him to come inside you. Wanted to feel it again, wanted a filthy souvenir dripping from you later while you were laying in bed with Tommy. But you weren’t ready for that conversation, so you said simply “not inside.”
Joel nodded, understanding that he couldn’t make the decision for you, so he just hitched his left leg under your hip for better leverage and drilled into you hard and fast. The angle let him hit just perfectly over that spot inside that made you see god. Your orgasm hit hard and it was all Joel could do to pull out and rut against your mound, smearing cum between your naked bodies.
Rolling off of you, Joel went to fetch a towel. He let you use it first, but you swiped a finger through his spend and brought it to your mouth, tasting him at last. There may as well have been stars in Joel’s eyes as he watched.
It was still early, 2:30 when you got into the shower and Joel went out to bring back lunch. Alone again under the hot spray, you thought. You thought about Tommy, about the perfectly adequate life you had together for the last eight months. He was good, he took you out, he was a generous lover, he has friendly and optimistic and he was so, so into you. And you liked that. But he was also immature, drinking a lot, getting into fights, losing jobs until Joel let him come to work at his small company. You wanted to bend time, make it so you met Joel first.
When you got out of the shower it was a bit of deja vu. Younfreshly showered, Joel waiting to feed you. This time it was a sack from Five Guys, and a big cup of sweet tea. Exactly what you needed. You and Joel talked while you ate, avoiding the obvious topic, and instead talked about movies you liked, books you had read, music you listened to, Joel told you about things he was doing to his house, a fixer-upper he had bought recently. “Maybe when we can get back you can come over and see. Give me some paint colors that would look good. ‘M not good at that part. Needs a woman’s touch I guess.” You dug a few fries from
The bottom of the bag and drifted away for a second to a reality where you and Joel could live together and be together and everything worked out for the best. Then you just nodded. “I’d love that.”
After Joel showered you only had about an hour until Tommy was expected back. You made the most of it, naked under the covers in Joel’s bed, legs entwined, mouths melded together while he made you come again on his long, thick fingers. “We don’t have to tell him anything, sweetheart. This can be whatever you want. I don’t want to make all this hard for ya. I won’t say anything to him if y’dont want me to. And if y’do I’ll handle him. Been handling him his whole life.” Joel looked pretty like this, naked and warm in the white hotel sheets with his tan skin and freckled shoulders, his big dark eyes, his pretty sloping nose and his untamable curly hair. “I want you, Joel.” Your voice was soft and light, he almost wasn’t sure he heard you. “Tell me again. Slowly.” You said it louder, you said it again, you said it as you kissed him. Joel beamed as he hugged you right to his chest and kissed you once more, pouring all of his unspoken feelings into you the best he could.
You’d just barely gotten buttoned back into a pair of shorts and tank top when Tommy came into the room. You went to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smelled like sun and sweat and dust. He pulled you up to him in a deep kiss that trailed down your neck, and cupped your ass with one hand. “Missed you today, baby.” “Missed you too, Tommy.” You nuzzled into his neck as you spoke, since again letting your imagination shape shift him into his brother. His brother who was out on the balcony, with your scent still on him. “Where’s Joel? What did you do with him today?” It was an innocent question, but you felt guilty as you quickly glanced around the room, afraid that there would be some glaring sign that would tell him you spend the day fucking his brother. Of course there wasn’t, but Tommy noticed the way you tensed and shifted his weight to one foot, cocking his head to the side. “Something wrong?”
“No, just uh, just hungry.” You lied.
Tommy studied your face in silence before kissing the top of your head. “Go get changed and we’ll go get some dinner. You nodded, relieved to have any suspicion out of Tommy’s mind for now. You weren’t even sure if he would be mad. He had enjoyed seeing you with Joel last night, so maybe you should just be honest about fucking him today. You rolled the idea around in your head as you put on your dress, and Tommy picked up the damp piece of purple fabric from the floor at the end of Joel’s bed.
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bababaka · 8 months
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Yall need to interact with fanfiction author's more.
So. After the ddos attack on ao3.
I was encouraged to write more comments and make my love known to fanfic writers.
I dont really like commenting. Because im a bit shy and soooo lazy.
Now though. I am writing more comments. And dude. This is so heartwarming. Ya'll need to treat writers better. They are doing the lord's work.
Take for an example, couple of days prior, i was searching for something interesting to read, and found an oneshot quite compelling.
I read it. At the end of it, i was blown away by how good it was. It promised me something and it went beyond my expectations. But then i saw a crime, zero fucking comments!
At that moment, i wasn't feeling up to writing a comment. Because, normally i like to write huge paragraphs. But because im lazy i decided to be brief.
Next day, the author answered that the comment lift their mood for the whole day.
That warmed my heart.
Duuuuuuuude! Write comments! Suport the writers of the fics you like! No need to be something super elaborate. Just give your thoughts. Freak out. Ramble. Ask something. Make theories. Compliment. Make a joke about how you wished to give kudos every chapter but ao3 sucks(not true bby) and won't let you.
Truly. Just. Comment. It can make someone's day. And that is part of the apeal of writing fics. Interacting with people.
Just give love to fanfic writers yall. They deserve this and so much more.
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hyunniesgirl · 6 months
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Another Love | part 1
Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.
Words count: 8,539
Warnings for this part: lots of angst, drunk people, drunk Han is petty asf
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
A/N: So I made that pool asking if I should post this fic in chapters or a 20,000+ words chapter and the long ass chapter won but at the time my mind told me I would be able to finish the whole fic before posting it... Jokes on me I need validation and feedback for me to write so yeah let's do this in chapters, sorry
A/N2: I had this idea for quite some time now but got suddenly inspired listening to the song another love.
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You're done. Really, you can't take it anymore. You've known Han Jisung since elementary school, you have been basically joined at the hip since then, your parents even became best friends because of you two.
You don't know exactly when you fell in love with him, was it on your second day at school when he invited you to play with him because he noticed you were all alone? Was it when someone made an awkward joke about your messed up hair cut in second grade and he picked a fight with them? Maybe it was the very first moment you laid eyes on him, joking around with everyone and being the most popular kid in the classroom. You really can't remember, but the thing you're sure of is: Han Jisung doesn't like you back.
You've always known that, but inside you there was a tiny bit of hope that one day he would wake up and suddenly love you back.
That didn't happen though. You are now 23 and he has never ever shown the smallest amount of romantic interest in you.
"That's fine", you thought to yourself, ever since you realized your feelings for him, "I'm going to stay with him his entire life, that doesn't sound so bad"
Until it started to sound really bad. What are you gonna do? See him getting a girlfriend, then getting engaged and eventually married? Would you always be there on the sidelines listening to his lovesick whines about the woman he loves so much? Would you be the godmother to his children? By then, would you have gotten over him already? Or would you keep this up forever, marrying someone just because you can't stay alone and being in love with your best friend for the rest of your life? That was the moment you knew you had to stop, you can't keep this up.
Coincidentally Han broke up with his last girlfriend a few months ago, you thought that would be a good opportunity for you to be his rebound, yeah, pretty dignified of you.
So you dress up really pretty, hair up, a dress that always made Han compliment you and to finish it off—the necklace he gave you on your 12th birthday.
You think this is it, this is the day you're going to tell him how much you love him and maybe, just maybe he will contemplate giving you a chance.
When he arrives at your shared apartment, with two cans of beer and fried chicken, you give him a cheerful greeting, setting the table and trying to gather courage to speak.
"So, how was practice?", you begin, maybe some small talk will help you relax.
"It was good, we are almost done with the album", he says, typing something on his phone. "How was your day?", he asks, putting the device on the table and looking at you.
"Good, I had class in the morning and tutoring in the afternoon", you take a sip of your beer, "one of the mothers actually recommended me to other parents and I'm gonna start tutoring more students next week"
He smiles, "that's good, you're really smart"
You blush, bringing the back of your hands to your face to try and lessen the hot skin of your cheeks with the cold of your hands.
"Actually, I want to talk to you", you start, it's now or never.
"Sure-", Jisung stops mid sentence when his phone buzzes. "Just a minute", he looks at the screen and smiles, your heart sinks at the sight. You know that smile too well, you have seen it dozens of times. You feel your insides turning over. It's the smile meant only for the person he likes.
"Hey, Lia. Yeah, totally, I can talk right now", he picks up the call and once again asks you for a minute lifting his index finger, he walks towards the balcony and closes the glass door after going through it.
He's laughing about something, is she even that funny or is he just trying to win her favor? She's pretty, you know it. All of his girlfriends looked like models. You sigh, looking at yourself and feeling awful, suddenly you don't feel pretty anymore, you actually feel ridiculous.
Why did you think things would change just because you got brave enough to speak up? Jisung sees you as a best friend and nothing more, you have to come to terms with that.
Your mind is rushing, thinking about what you're going to do now? Can you keep being friends with him? Yeah, of course, he's your best friend, you won't end your friendship because you can't control your feelings. But you'll need time, right? You won't be able to get over this unrequited love if you keep seeing him everyday, doing everything with him and sleeping in the same house.
"So, what do you want to talk about?", he asks, sitting again. You didn't even notice he had come back inside.
You sigh, you'll tell him about it all and then you'll find the strength in you to move on.
"I like you", you say so low you're not sure he heard you. But he did, he smiles and chuckles.
"I like you too, we're best friends for a reason", he stretches his arm to take a fried chicken.
"No, I like like you", you admit, hugging yourself, feeling cold suddenly, you look around and see Han left the door to the balcony open. "I've been in love with you since I can remember", you complete.
The look on his face would be funny if it wasn't tragic, his brows are furrowed in confusion and his eyes have a very familiar look: fear. Of course, he's afraid of losing his best friend, you already guessed that much.
"Y/N I-", you notice his breathing quickening. "I'm sorry, I never knew", he says, shoulders slumping, his arms dropping to the side of his body.
"Yeah, I know you didn't", you say. He's still staring at you with so much hurt in his eyes. Jisung knows he will have to turn you down and it's going to hurt him a lot, but not as much as it will hurt you and he never ever wanted to hurt you. 
"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say", he takes a deep breath, "I never thought about you in that way, I'm really sorry, I don't feel the same"
You're not going to cry, you decided that the moment you saw fear in his eyes. It's not his fault you like him, he can't fall in love with you just because you love him. You're not going to cry and make him feel worse than you can tell he's already feeling. But listening to those words it's worse than you could have expected, you feel like the world is crumbling around you.
"I know you don't", you smile sadly.
He looks more confused now.
"Then, why did you tell me?"
"It's just… I'm done with all this", you reply, getting up from your chair.
"Done with our friendship?" Han can feel all the air leaving his body while he waits for your answer.
You chuckle, fidgeting with your foot.
"No, I don't think I could ever be done with that", you smile trying to reassure him and he feels so relieved. "I can't keep doing this, I can't continue seeing you with other people and stay hurting alone"
"I can stop bringing people to the apartment and I'll never talk about them around you", he says trying to help and your stomach sinks a lot more. Why does he have to be so sweet?
"Actually, I'll need some time", you clear your throat, "I think I'm going to stay with Seungmin for the time being, he is looking for a roommate"
Han's eyes widen and he gets up, walking towards you.
"What are you talking about? Are you going to move out?"
"It's not something definitive, I'm going to stay there until he finds a new roommate and come back after that", you take a step back, noticing how close he is to you. "Luckily by then I'll be over you, I think I just need some personal space for now, where you're not there everytime I look, or your things aren't mixed with mine or your scent isn't around every room"
"Will you still speak to me?", he asks, he wants to hug you, to hold you in his arms and say how sorry he is for not feeling the same. But he knows he can't, the best thing he can do is to keep his distance from you right now.
"I think we should keep it restricted to apartment things for now, I'll keep paying my half of the rent since my things will still be here"
"You don't have to pay if you're not here"
Ever since Jisung started making good money he insisted that you didn't have to pay for rent since you only work part time as a tutor to pay for your living expenses but you always refused. Even though he earns a lot more than you it wouldn't be fair for him to be the only one paying and honestly, you felt that if he was the only one paying for it, you would feel too much like you were a couple.
"No, I'll pay you. This arrangement doesn't change the fact that we still share the apartment"
He nods, looking down, the awkward silence making you sick.
"I'm really sorry I hurt you", he whispers and all the crying you avoided over this whole conversation threatens to come out at that exact moment.
"It's not your fault", you say, "I'm sorry I made things awkward, just give me some time and we'll be back to how things were, okay?", you give him a reassuring smile even though you're not sure things will ever go back to the way it was.
You wake up feeling like shit, you cried your eyes out the moment you stepped into Seungmin's apartment. He was so sweet to you, staying awake until you calmed down and even offered you his room for you to sleep but you refused. He was already doing you a favor by letting you stay on his couch until he found a roommate.
You sit, stretching yourself, you slept pretty comfortably but all the stress from last night left your muscles sore.
"Are you feeling better?", you hear Seungmin's voice and look at the kitchen, he's making coffee. That reminds you of all the days you woke Han up with a nice and hot coffee so he wouldn't be in a bad mood waking up so early.
"I don't think so", you answer, shaking your head like that would make your thoughts disappear. "Can you get me some of that?", you ask and he smiles.
"Already on it", you start tidying up the blanket and the pillow you used.
"What are you going to do today?", Seungmin asks while you sit at the table.
"I have some tutoring to do and class in the afternoon, maybe I'll go shopping with Hannah later"
"That's good, try to keep yourself entertained at least for the next couple of days", he hands you the mug and you nod.
All your friends knew about your crush on Han and you made all of them swear they wouldn't tell him. You were afraid things would be awkward now, since Han was their friend before you met them, but they all showed you support now that you had confessed.
Hannah had offered you to stay with her, but she has a roommate that's really strict about everything in their apartment and you don't want to cause trouble to your friend by staying there. Luckily Seungmin's last roommate had moved a couple of weeks ago and he was looking for someone new, but by the way he's picky that's not going to happen so soon.
"Since I'll be staying here and you won't accept money because I won't be using a room, the groceries will be on me and I won't accept no for an answer", you say finishing your coffee and getting up. Seungmin sighs, rolling his eyes.
"I know you're going to buy it anyway, so I'll accept it"
"Then send me a list of whatever you need and I'll buy it tonight or tomorrow", you blow him a kiss, picking your bag from the floor and heading to the bathroom.
You take a long, hot, refreshing shower and pick some comfortable clothes to go to your tutoring session.
Seungmin's already gone when you go back to the kitchen, there's a message from him on your phone.
Minnie: I left some sliced fruit in the fridge for you, eat before going out.
Minnie: I'll send you the list later btw
You smile, having someone taking care of you is nice. For a second, it makes you forget the reason why you're there to begin with.
You feel like crying again, but you can't show up to your students house with red eyes and a puffy face.
The parents that are near each other usually ask you to teach their children together in longer sessions. That strengthens the bond the kids have while strengthening the connection between the families. That usually happens when the families are wealthy, they see an opportunity in their children's friendship to get on each other's good side.
Your parents started hanging out with Jisung's parents too, not because of connections but because you two were always in each other's houses. Once, you broke your arm falling from a tree you tried to climb following Han, his mother had to call yours and calm her down on the phone the entire time your mother was driving to the hospital to meet you. That day you got scolded by both and after they finished the lecture they looked at each other and smiled, bonding over the fear of something happening to their precious child.
When they went out to buy some coffee and talk, Jisung sat by the side of your hospital bed, lips pouting and tearing up.
"I'm sorry I dared you to follow me all the way up there", he says, taking the hand of your good arm and holding it.
"It's okay, now at least I have an exciting story to tell the others", you say and he smiles, whipping his eyes.
The noise of the gate opening wakes you up from your daydream, you have to stop thinking about Han if you want to get over him.
The kids come running in your direction the moment the housekeeper opens the door.
"Miss Y/N, look I got a 9.5 on my test", the girl smiles brightly showing you the paper with the grade marked in red.
"Woah, Misu, you're so smart, I don't think you even need me anymore", you bend to her height and she pouts, sometimes she acts like a little child when she's already 12.
"Of course I need you, you're the prettiest and smartest person I know", she says and you hear someone clear their throats by the stairs. It's Misu's mother.
"If I didn't agree with her I'd be hurt", she says and you smile.
"Good morning, Mrs. Kim, I only helped a little, Misu's really smart", you say and the girl shows you her white teeth, looking at her mother and waiting for some praise.
"Of course she is", she pats the girl's head. "Eun, aren't you going to say hi to Y/N?"
The boy is a few months younger than Misu but a lot more shy. You saw him coming with her when you arrived but got so engrossed in your conversation that forgot he was there in silence.
"Hello, miss Y/N", he says, polite as ever.
"Hi, Eun, did you get a good grade like Misu?"
He nods, showing you his test with 9.8 marked in red.
"He's smarter than me", Misu pouts.
"Congratulations, Eun", you say, patting his head, making him blush and you smile. "I think you are both really smart and I'm here to help you get even smarter"
Mrs. Kim tells you to go ahead and start the lesson and invites you to stay for lunch. You were pretty lucky with the parents you met till now, all of them were nice to you and cared a great deal about their children so it's a lighthearted job to do.
The kids are indeed smart, usually you don't have to explain the same thing more than twice and they always ask a lot of questions during your time with them.
A week goes by since you last saw Jisung, fortunately he didn't try contacting you. You're sure that if he did you'd break hearing his voice and would beg for him to like you back, giving up on any pride you still have left.
You arrive at school an hour before your classes begin, you're meeting Hannah at the cafe nearby so you can talk a bit.
You look at your phone, there's a message from her saying she's on the bus but the traffic is awful so she might be a little bit late.
You choose a table by the window, contemplating if you should order already or wait till Hannah arrives.
Looking outside, you remember the moment you heard the news that you got into this university. Yours and Jisung's family were at your parents house, you both were seated on the couch when you received the message saying the college entrance results came out. You couldn't type your information, you were trembling so much Han had to do it for you.
When you read your name and the word "accepted" you actually screamed, making your mother drop the plate she had in hands. Your father and Han's came running to see what happened when Jisung showed them the screen.
Your mother and father embraced you, telling how proud they were of you and Jisung's parents did the same, like you were their own daughter.
Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, spinning you and making you burst out laughing. That moment was so good, you wanted to stay there forever.
"Earth to Y/N", you hear Hanna's voice and snap out of your thoughts, sighing. "Is everything okay?", she asks, worried.
"Yeah, I'm good", you say and she narrows her eyes, knowing you are not telling the truth.
Hannah left it at that though, you are going through a hard time and she doesn't want to push it.
Honestly, she don't expect you to be fine. Your lifelong crush had rejected you and to make things worse he is your best friend, so yeah, of course you are not okay.
"Then, I'm going to order", she drops her bag in the seat in front of you, "your usual?"
You nod, seeing her walk to the cashier. You met Hannah three years ago, when you started college. She's the total opposite of you, really outgoing and a total social butterfly, it seems those are the people you attract seeing how Han is the same.
She sat by your side on the first day, making a random joke and making you laugh, that's how she became your best friend. You didn't even have to tell her about your one sided love, she had to see only one interaction between you and Jisung to know exactly what was going on.
She is the one that urged you to tell him about your feelings and was very adamant about you moving on from him, she couldn't let you waste all your 20's being in love with someone that didn't like you back… or not the way you wanted to.
"So, I heard about a party", Hannah says, putting the pager on the table and sitting in front of you.
"There's like a hundred of those, you have to be more specific", you joke and she rolls her eyes.
"You know that guy from English literature? The one that dyed his hair pink last semester?"
"Yeah, it's kinda hard to forget about him", you laugh.
When Yunho came to school with pink hair a rumor of him becoming an idol started going around, everyone tried to be nice to him and all that shit but it turned out he just lost a bet.
"He's hosting this party in like a really big fancy place to celebrate his graduation", she finishes.
"That's nice", you say, fidgeting with your fingers under the table.
"Hmmm, are we going to go or what?", she asks and you glance at her.
"Were we invited?"
"Ahm, you're hot and I'm hot, why wouldn't we be invited?"
You laugh, knowing what she's doing. Hannah is more sensible than you give her credit for, you really thought she would ask about everything that happened on that night, but instead she has been trying to distract you for the past week and that is really nice of her.
She smiles, seeing you smile. Hannah knows you never give enough credit to yourself, you never think you're pretty enough, funny enough, cool enough or smart enough even though you're those things and much more. She approached you on your first day because there's just something about you, something bright and cheerful. When people are upset, mad or sad you always do your best to make them feel better, so Hannah felt this was her time to cheer you up.
The pager buzzes on the table and she gets up, going to the counter to get your orders.
You look at her coming back with a big grin in her lips, handing you the coffee with a note glued to the cup sleeve.
"To the girl with the yellow cardigan, I see you coming here often and I think you're cute, maybe we can hangout sometime? If you're up to it, text me: xxx xxxx-xxxx"
You blush, looking at the counter and seeing the cutest guy looking at you with flushed cheeks. He's so red you can see it from where you're seated. He smiles waving at you and you wave back.
Hannah has one eyebrow lifted looking at your interaction and you feel your cheeks even hotter.
"So, are you going to text him?", she asks, reading the note and you sigh.
"I don't think so", you say, sipping at your coffee.
"Why not?"
"I don't think it would be fair to someone if I start something with them when I'm still in love with someone else", you answer and Hannah sighs.
"Yeah, you have a point", she pouts, "but like, maybe messing around a little won't hurt? I mean, he's not in love with you or anything, you can talk with each other and see where things go"
Hannah's right and you know it. Even though it's still too soon, you should try meeting new people, you're not going to get over Han just by staying away from him.
This feelings, you have it with you for so long, it's hard to let it go. Loving Han is the only romantic feeling you have ever known, it's scary to walk off of this thing you know so well  to something completely new.
You have to, though. It's the only way for your friendship to keep existing. So you nod to Hannah, taking your phone out of your pocket and dialing the number written on the cup, seconds later you're typing a message.
You: Hey, it's the girl in the yellow cardigan, my name is Y/N btw
You send and hear a ping, you thought he would have his phone on silent mode and sudden embarrassment creeps up when you see him taking his phone out of the pocket of his apron.
Cute guy: Hey, I was afraid of making you uncomfortable, so let me apologize first. I just didn't know how to approach you
Cute guy: Ah, and I'm Heeseung
You change the name in his contact before replying.
You: it didn't make me uncomfortable and thank you for calling me cute.
Heeseung: you don't have to thank me for telling the truth.
You giggle, it's interesting to feel like this, even though you can tell it's something temporary.
You: lol, you're really smooth.
"Let's go?", Hannah says, smirking at you and you blush. You nod, picking your things up and getting up from the table, you wave goodbye to Heeseung before going out and he smiles brightly at you.
>><<
The morning after you went away, Han woke up feeling awful, all the things that happened the previous night coming back at him at the same time. He was sure the moment you walked out of the door, giving him your best smile and trying not to cry was the saddest he ever felt in his entire life. You were his best friend, you were everything to him, he felt like shit because he never noticed your feelings. He doesn't know what he would have done if he knew, but maybe he could have been better, talking less about his relationships and especially not bringing his hook ups to the apartment.
He got up, feeling like crying everytime he had to pass by your bedroom door, knowing you were not there and wouldn't be for far too long, all because of him. The bell rings and he runs to the door, hoping it's you, hoping you'll tell him everything was a joke and that you didn't actually like him. Even though he knows you wouldn't press the doorbell since you know the password and he knows the hurt in your eyes when he said he didn't feel the same as you was no joke.
So it was no surprise when he opened the door and found Chan and Changbin there. They did tell him they were going to stop by in the morning to pick him up but with all the things that happened he just forgot about it.
"Are you okay? You look like shit", Changbin says entering the house.
Chan looks at Han, worried.
"Are you sick?", he asks, "where's Y/N?" He knows you wouldn't leave Han alone if he were sick, but you would have shown up already by hearing Changbin's loud voice.
"She's gone", Han says, running his hands through his hair.
"What do you mean?", Chan asks with wide eyes.
"She- she confessed to me and I turned her down", he says, maybe he should have told you he could like you back, that way he wouldn't be feeling this way and you'd still be there with him.
"Shit", Changbin says, his lips pressed in a thin line.
Han looks at the both of them, why don't they look surprised?
"You guys knew about it?" He asks, a little louder than his usual voice and the boys exchange a look. "Woah, thanks for the heads up"
He shouldn't be mad at them, it's not their fault, but he's already too mad at himself so he doesn't know where else to put the blame.
"It was not our place to tell you", Chan says.
"Does everyone know?", Han asks and Changbin nods, "so I was the only one? Am I dumb or something?"
Chan sighs, "it's not really your fault for not knowing, you probably are used to the way Y/N looks and talks to you because you're best friends since you were children, but to the people outside it is pretty clear from the get go that she likes you"
"But where did she go? Are you not friends anymore?", Changbin asks the difficult questions and Chan glares at him.
"She said she will be staying with Seungmin till he finds a roommate and then she's going to come back"
"She probably just needs some time", Chan says, putting a hand on Han's shoulder trying to reassure him, and he really hopes that's the case.
>><<
You've been texting Heeseung for a few days now and he's pretty nice, he's a dance major and works part time at the cafe to pay for living expenses the same as you do with tutoring.
Hannah had convinced you to go to Yunho's party and get wasted, saying you need the college life experience the most now that you had your first heartbreak but you don't want to think about that, you want to forget that you ever loved Han Jisung.
So you drink a whole bottle of wine before leaving for the party, Seungmin's coming with you and Hannah will meet you there. You are looking good, or maybe it's the alcohol that makes you feel good, your hair is down, you're wearing a black lace cropped top you borrowed from Hannah, with a much lower neckline than you are used to, high waisted jeans and black boots.
The party is already crowded when you and Seungmin get there and it's really a fancy place like Hannah told you.
"Let's grab a drink", you yell to Seungmin.
"You should drink water, you're already drunk", he demands and you show your tongue to him.
"Nooooo, don't be a killjoy"
He sighs, it's hard to convince you of something when you're sober, it's even harder when you're drunk.
"You can have a drink after you drink a cup of water", he tells you and you nod, sounds like a win win for you.
After drinking a whole cup of water you show it to him, waiting for a praise and Seungmin rolls his eyes. What are you, a 10 year old?
"Good job, now you can drink", he gives you a cup with something mixed in it, "but you have to drink some water for each drink you take, okay?"
"Okay, dad", you joke, sipping your drink.
Seungmin knows a lot of people at the party and you feel left out every time someone approaches him so you're really happy when Hannah shows up, with a much taller boy accompanying her.
"Look who I found", she says pointing at him.
"Heeseung?", you scream, startling Seungmin who's close to you.
"Jesus, Y/N, calm down", he says putting his hand over his ear, "I'm a singer, I can't lose my hearing", he says and you pout, whining an apology even though you know he's not really mad.
"I didn't know you were gonna be here", Heeseung gets closer to you, side eyeing Seungmin.
"I didn't want to come, Hannah made me", you tell him, "this is Seungmin, he's my friend"
He nods at the boy by your side, relaxing to hear you call Seungmin a friend.
"Hey, Minnie, let's go dance?", Hannah says and Seungmin narrows his eyes suspiciously.
"I don't dance", he answers, crossing his arms and she sighs.
"For fucking sake, just come with me", she says and Seungmin follows her without more questions, he knows too well not to mess with her when she gets angry.
"You look really pretty", Heeseung says, bending a little to lessen the difference in your height. You blush even though it's not as good hearing him saying that as it was when Han complimented you, but you're trying to get over that, aren't you?
"Thanks, you look hot too", you hiccup, you don't have a filter when you're drunk. He smiles, turning around on the table and pouring you a cup of water.
"Drink this, it's going to help", he hands it to you.
"Thank you, you're so sweet and handsome", you yell again but he doesn't flinch like Seungmin did.
"You can't keep saying these kinds of things and not want me to kiss you", he says and you smile, sly.
"Who says I don't want that?", the moment he comprehends what you just said his face reddens, and he thought he was being bold.
"Once you sober up we can talk about that", he tells you and you pout. You wanted to kiss him now, maybe if you did all the hurt you were feeling would go away. Maybe you just needed someone to make you forget about Jisung.
"But I want it now", you cross your arms, behaving like a child that didn't get their way.
"Do you like dancing?", he changes the subject. Your face brightens with his question.
"I LOVE dancing", you show him the choreography to queencard that's playing on the dance floor and he laughs at your messy steps, he's sure you're much better at it while sober.
"Then drink this and let's dance", he hands you another cup of water.
"Seungmin told me I could have a drink after a cup of water, but this makes two cups of water and no drink", you point out and Heeseung can't help but find the drunk you really cute.
"This water will help you so you won't have a bad hangover tomorrow", he says and you nod, that's a good point.
Super by seventeen starts playing and you finish downing the water, grabbing Heeseung's hand and dragging him to the dance floor.
Being a dance major, of course he knows the steps and he's so good there are moments you just stop and watch him in a daze. Actually, he knows the steps to every song playing after that too, you dance so much you're all sweaty and your legs are tired. You're totally sober now, feeling ecstatic. It's so good being at a party having so much fun.
You're jumping and smiling until you see him.
You stop in your tracks seeing Han Jisung staring at you from the other side of the dance floor, your smile fades away as soon as your eyes lock with his.
He looks sick, he lost a lot of weight considering the short period of time you haven't seen each other and he wasn't smiling like he always did. He takes a step in your direction and you automatically step away, your stomach sinking.
You're feeling your heart beat so fast it's overlapping with the loud music, you gulp feeling your legs weaken, why the hell are you having this reaction? He's the same Han Jisung you've known since you were a child, the only difference now is that he knows how you feel about him.
You can't avoid him until you get over your feelings, that won't work and you know it, you have to get used to being near him feeling nothing other than friendship, but you can't see him at that moment, you just can't. You're having fun, there's a handsome guy with you and you want to like him and not Jisung.
You grab Heeseung's hand and pull him away from the dance floor, walking outside so you can breathe some fresh air.
"Did something happen?", he asks, looking confused and worried.
"It just felt stiff in there for a moment", you say and he nods.
You didn't want to explain to him why you were not speaking to your best friend and how messed up your relationship with Han is right now. You want to forget about it and your way of doing it is right by your side, handsome and available.
"So, about that thing you said we could do once I sobered up… I'm sober now", you say and he blushes, analyzing you for a moment to see if you are telling the truth.
The last drink you took was more than an hour ago and you drank so much water after that, it's a miracle you still don't have to use the toilet.
"I don't want to do something you'll regret later", he says and you appreciate how considerate he is. But right now you don't want someone considerate, you want someone that'll sweep you off your feet and help you forget what you so desperately want to. So you get closer, caging him against the wall and tiptoeing, trying to get closer to his face.
"If you don't want to, it's okay. But if you're holding back because you think I'm drunk, I'm not", that was his cue to kiss you. His lips crashing sloppily onto yours, hands cupping your face then moving down to your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck trying to get closer than you already are. He's good, you've kissed enough people in your life to know that, yet you feel sick.
You feel bad and like a horrible person because you just know he can't compare to Jisung even though you never kissed your best friend.
You feel bad thinking about someone else while kissing Heeseung, he's so nice and sweet and you know he's not fooling around, if you give him the chance he's going to truly like you and you're only using him.
You step away sighing, seeing his brows furrowed and the confusion in his eyes.
"Was it that bad?", he jokes but you can see he's feeling hurt. "I'm not trying to brag, but I never got a reaction like that after a kiss"
You smile apologetically, looking for words to explain yourself.
"It was great and you're great", you begin, "I think you're too sweet, that's why I can't lead you on"
"What are you talking about?" he asks, even more confused.
"I'm in love with someone else and I know it sounds awful, I did try to get over him with you but I feel like you'll really like me if we don't stop right now and I'm not sure if I'll be able to be that person for you", you look at him, seeing the disappointment in his face. "I'm sorry, I'm a terrible person and you can hate me if you want"
He stares at you for a few moments, sighing and giving you a reassuring smile after.
"I don't think you're terrible, I think you're truly brave for coming clean like that", you're relieved, you were afraid he would say something mean and even though you feel like you deserve it, you're really fragile right now. "Thank you for telling me before I got too deep into this and I don't know, maybe we can be friends?"
"Absolutely, I would love that"
"So, do you want to go back inside?", he asks and you shake your head.
"I don't think so, I should probably go home", you say, you don't want to go back there to see Han again.
"Do you want me to take you home?"
"It's okay, I'm going to text Seungmin and see where he's at but you can go inside, I'm going to stay here and get some more fresh air"
"Alright, I'll see you at the cafe"
You nod, seeing him walk away. Woah, you just let that masterpiece of a man go because you can't forget about a fucking unrequited love. You curse yourself, slapping your forehead.
After that, you text Seungmin telling where you are and asking where the hell he and Hannah went, sending the same message to her and waiting for their answer.
You sit on the grass, taking a deep breath. You feel a bit sick after seeing Jisung, you never thought you'd feel that way. Never in your worst nightmares did you think you would be afraid to talk to him, maybe you're scared of talking to him and feeling nothing, what if all of this was just in your head and you just needed some time apart to figure it out?
You hear steps close to you and pray it's not some horny couple trying to fuck near you, however, the moment you lay eyes on your best friend you actually wish it was a horny couple.
You get up in a jump, your stomach sinking and your head spinning. Why does it hurt so much suddenly? It feels like your chest is being torn apart and you can't do a thing to make it better.
Jisung looks worse up close, he has huge bags under his eyes and he's too pale.
You're worried about him, even though you can't have the luxury of that. Not when your insides are all messed up and you want to throw up. You walk past him without saying a word, you can't handle this right now, but he grabs your wrist holding you in place. You don't look at him, staring at the floor trying to get out of his grip.
"I miss you", he says and your heart drops to your stomach. Why is he doing this to you? It's not like being apart from your best friend is fun to you. "Can't you look at me?", he pleads but you can't find the courage to do that yet. "Please", but he sounds so desperate, you force yourself to do it.
You look at him, he's obviously drunk. Who the hell let him drink this much?
"What is it?", you sound more spiteful than you were planning and his eyes widen, releasing your arm from his grasp.
"Do you hate me now?", he asks and you sigh.
"Of course I don't hate you, you're my best friend", you say that but for some reason it doesn't feel right, it doesn't sound like the truth.
"Can't you come back home? I feel like shit everytime I wake up and you're not there"
"I told you I need time", you say, running your hands through your hair.
"Are you going to forget about me by fucking some random dude?", he asks and you glare at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"I don't understand how that's any of your business"
"It is, because you told me you love me but you act like you never want to see my face again", he scoffs.
You feel mad, what's he trying to say? Should you keep hurting just because you love him?
"I can't sit around forever, waiting for you to look at me", you say and he steps closer to you.
"I'm looking at you right now, I- I'll be good to you, I'll like you back", the moment he finishes saying that, you can't control the tears running through your eyes.
Is that supposed to be good? He would be forced to date you so he could have you close to him?
"Why are you doing this to me?" You ask and he takes a step back startled with you tears, suddenly sobering up, "it's not easy for me to be away from you, you're my best friend, but I do have some bit of dignity left in me and I won't accept less than I deserve, even if that less is the man I love with me", you wipe your tears seeing him step closer, trying to reach your hand and you step away, "don't come close to me right now, I could never stay with you knowing you don't love me, you should know that"
You turn around trying to get away from him but stop on your tracks seeing Hannah, Seungmin, Chan and Changbin right there looking at you awkwardly. Of course, the humiliation is the cherry on the top. You pass through them feeling so embarrassed you want the earth to swallow you.
The ride home is awkward and silent. Hannah and Seungmin keep exchanging looks while you look out the window trying to figure how your life became this mess.
You really should have dated Jeongho when he asked you out in middle school, it was around that time that you realized you liked Han more than just a friend—when Haneul asked to be his date to the school festival and you wanted to punch her so hard. Maybe if you had dated that boy at that time you would have forgotten the feelings you had for your friend, maybe you would have brushed it off as some childhood crush, but no, you rejected Jeongho while Han went with Haneul to the school festival and you third wheeled the whole event earning nasty glances from her every time your best friend played two times the same game so he could win you a plush too.
Back then you still thought everything would be okay, if only you had him everything would be okay.
You start bawling without notice, crying so much you can't even breathe. Seungmin stops the car and Hannah gets to the back, hugging you and caressing your hair while whispering that everything will be fine and you really want to believe her.
You don't know how you got into Seungmin's apartment, you guess he carried you inside after dropping Hannah home but you're not sure. It's sunday so he's not up yet for you to ask and it doesn't actually matter, what matters is the absolutely pathetic scene you made at the party and in the car. You want to bury yourself into a hole and never come back, how the hell are you going to face your friends after they saw you being humiliated by Han like that?
You know he was drunk, of course he was. You know he didn't mean it, he was hurt and drunk and people act on feelings not reason when they are like that. But does he think you have no pride? Does he really think you would date him knowing he doesn't like you back?
It's different when you confessed to him, you knew he didn't like you that way. But if he told you that there was something there, that he was not going to promise you anything but someday he may like you back, that's all you needed to hear. However, that didn't happen. He told you with all the words that he doesn't like that way, that he doesn't feel the same way as you do, there was no room for interpretation, no room for what if's.
You get up, in need to distract yourself. This week is going to fly by, you have tutoring lessons using up all your free time so you just have to get through the day.
There are a lot of messages on your phone, you really don't want to read them because you know that other than Hannah's, it's awkward comforting words from your other friends.
Hannah: call me when you wake up
Hannah: let's go eat something delicious, what do you think? It's on me.
Hannah: are you still not up or are you ignoring me?
You: I just woke up, calm down girl
You: why would I ignore you though? I just have to brush my teeth and eat something then I'll call you.
Binnie: morning babes
Binnie: Hannie is such an asshole
Binnie: I'll date you if you want, you're hot it's a win win for me
You chuckle to Changbin texts, he's so sweet in the weirdest way.
You: I mean, you're hot too
You: I think we'd make an awesome couple
Chan: good morning, Y/N
Chan: we didn't hear anything last night, so please, don't be awkward or embarrassed around us.
You: good morning Channie, I know you heard
You: you should have matched your story with Changbin before texting me though
You: it's okay, alright? Of course I'll be embarrassed for the time being, but we're friends I won't be embarrassed forever.
You leave your phone on the couch and go to the bathroom. You look like shit, smeared makeup, hair disgusting and you're still wearing the same clothes. You turn on the hot water, taking your clothes off and entering the shower, the warmth embracing you as you feel more relaxed.
You put on something comfortable, it's Sunday, you're going to ask Hannah to come by and you're going to order takeout.
You call her number while eating because you know she's anxious.
"Hey babes, good morning", she picks up, cheerful as always.
"Good morning", you say, biting the toast you just made.
"So, what about going out and eating something really good?", she asks.
"Hm, I'm actually not in the mood to go out? Can't you come by, we order something and watch that movie you've been bugging me for the last month?"
"Yeah, sure. We can do that", she answers and you are happy she doesn't sound upset or disappointed. With all the shit you're pulling lately you're scared your friends are going to get tired of your bullshit and stop talking to you. You used to think no one wanted a friend that's always crying and whining, but they showed you that real friends help each other.
"So what time are you gonna come?"
"I will just take a shower and wait for the bus, so in maybe like an hour?", she guesses and you nod forgetting she can't see you.
"Okay, see you then"
You decide to clean the house while waiting, Seungmin is pretty organized and clean so there's nothing too difficult. You'll just wash the dishes and vacuum a little.
Hannah arrives later than she predicted, Seungmin is already up and cleaning his room. He scolded you because it's his day to do the dishes and you shouldn't have done it because it's not fair to you.
You think he's being extra nice to you because of what happened the night before and it's true, he was really scared when you cried in his car.
He has known you for almost five years and he never saw you cry like that, even on the night you came to his house after confessing to Han you didn't cry like that. This time was different, you had a soul crushing cry, he wanted to stop the car and go to the back to hug you the same as Hannah, but he knew you were already being comforted by the perfect person.
Han is his friend, he could never choose between you two. But he couldn't deny it, that was a dick move, how could he ever say that to someone that likes him? He basically told you that he could pretend to like you if you stayed with him.
And of course, Seungmin understands the fear of losing a friend, but doing what he did just increases the chances of you never wanting to see his face again.
You are seated on the couch, watching the movie Hannah is obsessed with at the moment. She already watched it five times alone and asks anyone she can find to watch it again with her, she even repeats some sentences together with the characters.
The pizza you ordered is almost gone, you didn't know you were so hungry until the smell hit your nose. Luckily or thanks to Seungmin and Heeseung, your hangover is not that bad and you want it to stay that way so you keep drinking lots of water.
You got through the day thanks to your friends, they kept you entertained the whole time so you wouldn't overthink or even think about Han.
You are doing that just now, looking at the ceiling in the dark room. You want it all to be a dream, maybe you would wake up tomorrow and still be in middle school, you'd take the opportunity and get over him at that time, that would have spared you of some big problems.
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A/N: So, I don't know how many parts this fic will have. If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback give me motivation to keep writing.
1K notes · View notes
naomihatake · 7 months
Text
In search of freedom (Ch. 1)
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1. They're bad news
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Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2
⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.
Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa. This chapter follows the events of the first episode.
Warnings for this chapter: physical violence (fights), mentions of deaths, fluff, some cursing, mentions of tarot and palm readings
Word count: 3,6k
Theme song: “Loreley” by Blackmore's Night (click on the link)
A/N: This is the first part of a fanfiction I was thinking of since first watching One Piece Live Action. I started the anime too and I'm around episode 64 already. I'm using the OPLA course of action for now and I have no idea for an ending, but enough scenarios to write and share. I don't know how far this will go, but I'll have fun writing it and considering how much I like Zoro (born anime and LA), I'm using both of them as inspiration. Sorry for the lack of interaction between reader and Zoro, but I promise things will change.
The reader will be referred to as "Witch" especially in the next chapter, because I have no intentions of using "Y/N". There will be more information revealed about her past and abilities in the next chapter.
I'm open for comments and opinions <3
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"Excuse me," she smiled sweetly while swaying away from someone who was standing right in front of her and a table she had to serve for. "Here," she carefully let the plates down.
She received a large smile coming from the young man with dark curls and a straw hat hanging around his neck. His pink haired companion seemed very shy, barely glancing at her before looking back at his plate, thanking in a small voice.
The tavern buzzed with a peaceful energy in the late hours of morning, the big windows letting the warm rays of sun in, lighting up the place. There were men sitting at a few tables, no sign of any other woman except for her and the very owner of that place, who just finished cooking something — were those cookies? It smelled divine.
Her dress fluttered around her knees as she moved away from their table to take other orders, a strand of her hair falling against her cheek after running around for so long. When she finally stopped in her tracks by the bar, intense eyes searched for anyone else who might've needed something. Lucky for her, she could finally breathe for a few seconds, resting her hips against the bar.
However, her eyes fell on the tall figure who just chugged down his throat a shot of alcohol. His green hair made her frown to herself, looking away before she could get caught ogling some stranger. After a few seconds, she looked at him again, this time at the three swords resting against his hip.
Three swords? What can someone do with three swords?
Everyone probably had the same question whenever they saw him for the first time. However, he felt somehow familiar, as if she's heard of someone like that before. A pirate? No, wait, a pirate hunter? The owner told her of so many things and so many people it was impossible to remember each one of them, but she was pretty sure she mentioned some pirate hunter only a few days ago.
Her thought process was interrupted when a man with blonde hair and suit walked by in front of her. Considering the men dressed in white uniforms who entered with him, they must be marines and he was probably their superior — he was walking like he owned the entire port.
She held back from rolling her eyes in annoyance. Her thoughts ran back to what her friend said about pirates last time, the way they argued back and forth about how pirates aren't good. However, she had her own reasons for claiming that not all pirates were ruthless monsters, without elaborating.
She flinched lightly when she heard the thud of a metal plate falling on the floor, snapping her head towards a little girl who was stuttering apologies to the blonde man. Her eyebrows were pulled together at his angry and loud voice mocking the child who had tears in her eyes, fear seeping through her very bones at the exaggerated reaction.
Apparently, they knocked into each other. Oh, there were two cookies on the floor. One of them got crushed under the man's foot.
She smoothly made her way by the side of the little girl, smiling at her as she crouched down to her level.
"Is everything alright, little one? Did you apologize?" the woman's hand squeezed the girl's shoulder warmly.
Rika's only response was a nod.
"Good job. It's alright, I'll help you clean up. Why don't you bring me a broom, hm?" she coaxed the girl with a gentle voice.
Once the girl walked away, she stood up straight again, arching her eyebrow questionably at the arrogant man by her side.
"Is there anything else I could help you with?"
"What, are you working here? If the answer's positive, then you better teach those stupid kids some manners," he huffed.
"You should teach yourself how to behave," she commented right back, her sharp gaze sizing him up and down.
"Take that back. Next time I won't be so nice," the blonde marine grinned.
Oh, and what an ugly grin it was on that fucker's face.
"You dropped my food," a low voice from behind interrupted.
The young woman turned her head towards the voice, confusion written on her face as she made a few steps back, out of his way. It was the green haired man she noticed earlier, now sitting on one of his knees on the cold floor.
Rika came back with a broom almost twice her size, the object quickly taken from her hold by the woman who smiled at her again. While they exchanged glances, the pirate hunter let himself down on one of his knees, taking some of the crushed cookie into his palm.
A sly smile tugged at the woman's lips. A pirate hunter or not, he had more dignity than a marine even in that kneeling position. She was more satisfied to see the little one smiling.
"Your turn," the green-haired man lowered his voice, a dark glare thrown at the astonished marine.
The pirate hunter raised back up and placed the metal plate on the bat, his intimidating height against the arrogant blonde monkey in front of him telling enough.
"Apologize to the girl," he demanded in a relaxed tone.
"Me? It was her fault for bumping into me. The lady should apologize for disrespecting me."
Apologize, my ass, she thought to herself, one step away from bursting out laughing. What did he take her for?
"Do you want a fight or what?" he drew his sword out, a knowing grin curled on his face. "I don't need three swords to fight."
The woman looked down at the little girl who was still by her side, ruffling her hair.
"Why don't you go to your mother, hm? And stay there until I call you back."
Her stern voice didn't give space for arguing; Rika complied, going to the kitchen.
She heard some muttering and next thing she knew, both of the men in front of her had drawn their swords out. Apparently, the green-haired one decided to advance closer to the marine, in an attempt to keep the fight away from the lady.
Hmph. Swordsmen and their unusual gentlemanly behavior.
Squeezing the broom in between her fingers, she moved away, furrowing her eyebrows in a scowl.
"No fights in here, you jerks!" she scoffed.
Expertly, while the other marines attacked one man — how unethical of them — and swords clashed against each other after sharp whistling noises, the woman swept away the cookies on the floor. She faked doing her own duties, like the good employee that she was, throwing careful glances at the fight happening right next to her. If she wasn't careful enough, she could get sliced in two.
"I advise you to get out of the way," she heard the swordsman's voice growling right after he threw a chair into three men, making them fall to the floor.
"You'll destroy the entire place if I do."
Right after saying those words, without anyone noticing in that damned agitation, with a quick movement of the broom, she made one of the marines trip.
Just like the idiots that they were.
"Oh my god, you should be more careful!" she placed a hand over her lips, fake surprise and fear coloring her features.
Who would believe such an innocent being was capable of such malicious actions?
With a strong creak followed by a thud, one marine was thrown into a table that turned the both of them upside down, groans filled with pain vibrating through the tavern.
She was right about them destroying the place.
However, the commotion didn't cause too much distress to the woman still moving the broom around, acting as if she had business with that newly found weapon. It might not be lethal, but she couldn't be spotted while she was intentionally making the marines' jobs harder. In the month she's been working there, she saw more than just one fight and used everything that she saw fit to stop it — be it a broom or a kitchen knife.
Now that she analyzed the fight better, it seemed like the pirate hunter barely even had to draw his sword out of its scabbard, at some point knocking someone's head into the bar. He used his raw strength and the objects surrounding him, thankfully without destroying any of them. The can he threw into another man's stomach seemed so effortless.
That must've hurt, though.
The blonde marine was quickly pulled by the back of his collar, back colliding with the bar, and an angry swordsman towering over him. She didn't hear anything nor paid attention anymore, eyes focused on the tavern that was ruined only half way through.
She sighed after watching both of the men walking out of there, biting her lower lip to hold back a fit of laughter at the marine who stumbled while being dragged by the bounty hunter.
"Why do men always fight in this tavern?" she talked to herself, raising one of the chairs and putting it back in place. "One day of peace is all I want in this port, only one day, and I can't get even that."
She sighed again, only for that long exhale to get stuck in her throat once her eyes fell on the table that was almost sitting in the opposite way rather than how it should be. Once she approached it, stepping by the marine who was trying to get up.
She would never help someone who had less dignity than a dog following some orders from a brainless monkey. Heck, even those animals were smarter.
Instead, she tried to move the table back in its place. Her fingers were so close to gripping at one side of the table before someone appeared at the opposite side. The young man with a straw hat and a square smile she served only a few minutes ago raised the table by himself, carefully arranging it until he was satisfied with its position.
"Thank you so much for the help," she smiled at him. "Be careful where you step, I think a glass also broke."
There were some shreds on the floor somewhere close to the table the young man sat at earlier.
"Thank you for your concern," he smiled just like the first time.
Gosh, has she ever seen such a beautiful soul? His eyes sparkled and the happiness suited him like it did to a little child who has no clue of the harsh world. However, he didn't seem phased or scared by what happened earlier — his hands weren't shaking at all and there was no fear lingering in his stare.
She turned to take the broom and came closer to his companion, who was sitting under the table. She bent her torso to give him a hand, helping him get back to his feet.
"Careful with the glass, check your hands," she warned again.
"I saw what you did there."
She turned towards the straw hat guy, blinking owlishly at him.
"I don't really get what you mean."
She started sweeping the shred of broken glass, not paying attention to the curious and insistent gaze she was receiving.
"You surely do. I'm Monkey D. Luffy and I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!"
Her eyes widened at the second part of his speech, snapping her head back at him. Without even realizing, her fingers were squeezing the broom quite harshly, fingertips going white.
"That's—" she started in a small voice, blinking like an idiot and staring at him.
She's heard that before. She's heard the same dream before and it brought so much suffering.
"That's dangerous," she finally got the courage to continue, still hesitant.
"You're brave for interfering with their fight."
Luffy looked into her eyes as if he could guess the thoughts running through her head, as if he could read her very soul, drinking in her features and reaction.
"You must've seen wrong," she let out a light chuckle, getting a grip on herself. "I'm just clumsy sometimes."
She was thankful she stopped herself from cussing out the Marines, because in less than a second after she finished her sentence, a few other men dressed in white uniforms appeared to help their comrades back to the base. She casted a skeptical eye at each one of them, like silent warnings.
They were pathetic, some of them still stumbling while trying to get up, their swords thrown around carelessly. After they all disappeared from her sight, her shoulders obviously relaxed again.
"I have to admit I hated each second of staying so much with these idiots around," she huffed quietly. "That spoiled child who takes advantage of his father's status was getting on my nerves."
"That's why you helped that swordsman, right?"
Luffy continued with his supposition, not letting go of what he thought he saw — it was the truth, but it would be dangerous to admit.
"I didn't help anyone, really. That was unintentional."
"Don't press it too much, Luffy," his companion's voice trembled.
"Koby, I know what I saw," Luffy pulled his lips into a straight line.
She resumed what she was doing, sweeping at the pieces of glass, seeing almost each one of them in the light seeping through the window.
"If you want to become King of the Pirates, I suppose you also want to get the One Piece, right?"
She was foolish. She was stupid for asking, for getting herself in such business that somehow always ended with too many deaths, with broken dreams. However, something was nagging in her gut. Deep down, it felt so right to ask.
"Yes! I need the Grand Line map for that and I intend on getting from the Marine Base here."
"You're insane, kid," her shoulders shook with her light laughter.
It was a sour sound.
She stopped, leaning her weight into the broom, looking down at the glass in front of her. She shouldn't help them. She should stay in her place if she wanted those young men to survive. What they were trying to do was basically suicide, they just didn't know. Koby seemed to be more fearful, hesitant and so, so shy. Luffy didn't say "us"; he said "I" — the pink-haired guy was not really part of the plan.
Against better judgment, she raised her head at him, promises sparkling in her eyes just like the shreds of glass.
"You can't just ask for that map and I hope you know that. What you want to get yourself into isn't just dangerous, it's like jumping into a suicide mission," her voice strained, pouring all of her hope in her next words: "However, I can help you get inside. Be careful, you have to make sure no one catches you."
"So I was right about you!" Luffy beamed.
"Right about what?"
"That you're brave."
Her lips opened, but no sound came from between them. It was pointless to deny it when he seemed so stubborn about what he saw and believed.
"I think this is a lot to say about someone who's helping you steal secret maps," the side of her mouth curled upwards.
Koby was left astonished. Stealing from the Marines was suicide.
"Listen here, kid," she lowered her voice, stepping closer to whisper. She set her gaze on Luffy's. "You have to get out of there alive, no matter what. Lie if you have to, but I have a feeling you're very bad at that, so be careful. That isn't a place to fool around in. You could get yourself killed in a blink. The Marines are very sneaky."
"There are good Marines and bad Marines," he shrugged. "Maybe I'll meet someone who's willing to help."
"I like your enthusiasm, but that unit base doesn't fit," she shook her head. "Both Captain Morgan and his son aren't the good kind of people."
She squeezed the broom in between her fingers again, an ugly feeling clawing at her throat. She didn't want a kid to die for following his dreams, but freedom was something she always craved.
"I'll tell you a way to get inside the base from underneath. You have to keep your lips sealed — I don't worry about myself, but about the owner and her daughter. I don't want word spreading around."
"You can count on me!" he placed his hand on his heart, as if he sealed the promise there. "Who are you? I want to know who's helping me."
Damned be his sincerity.
"I'll give you my name after you get out of there alive."
She smiled, eyes sparkling with delicious mischief.
"That is a promise. I'll be around the Marine Base and I'll tell you my name after I see you get out of there alive."
That seemed to stir something in Luffy's soul, inhaling with pride. A man of his word, indeed, just like she thought.
"Deal.
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Her name left the lips of a scolding mother, even if it wasn't her mom.
"I saw you." The second time she heard tthat same phrase in one day.
Annie patted the tip of her shoe against the floor repeatedly.
"I was just lucky enough not to get myself in trouble," she shrugged.
However, her eyes fell on the floor, guilty about getting caught like a deer in the light.
"You could've gotten yourself in big trouble!" the owner of the tavern raised her voice.
Rika pouted up at her mother, trying to sweeten her reaction.
"She just wanted to help, just like—"
"Rika," this time, the scolded one firmly spoke her name. "Don't take me as an idol. It's true that something could have happened."
The little girl shouldn't worry about such a bloody world just yet and she wanted to help it for as long as possible. Being stubborn was a death sentence, even if she would always get herself into trouble if it meant to stick to her principles.
She'd rather die on her feet than live on her knees.
"Just because this time everything was fine, it doesn't mean next time will be the same," Annie exhaled loudly, frowning.
"There won't be a next time," the young woman sank her chin in her chest. "I should leave these days. Soon enough, word will spread out about my tarot and palm readings. I don't want to cause you any more trouble."
"You little witch," the usual scolding was replaced with a warm nickname.
She raised her head again, struggling to smile. Leaving after she got attached always hurt.
"That man was Roronoa Zoro, wasn't it?" Annie asked, her body suddenly tensing.
"Most probably," she shrugged. "Three swords, three earrings. He put on quite a show, to be honest," the words were followed by a chuckle.
"I see the way your eyes are sparkling. Don't even think about getting into some conversation with such a troublesome person."
"What could do some adventure to a poor soul like me?" she teased.
"It could bring you six feet under."
•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈
"I'm no witch, you idiots!" she struggled against the harsh grip the two men had on her arms.
She hissed when one of them sank his fingertips in her upper arms, glaring at him.
Shithead marines.
She continued writhing and struggling, stomping her feet into the ground in an awful attempt to stop them. She intended on keeping her promise after she helped the straw hat sneak into their base. She waited for as long as it was necessary after she gathered her things in a bag that hung around her shoulders. She was supposed to leave that place after she made sure the kid was alright and alive.
"God dammit!" she shouted. "How many times do I have to explain I'm not doing anything wrong?!"
"You're lying to people and receiving money, filthy witch. You're a thief," one of the men commented as they continued walking her away from the port.
"I didn't steal shit!" she snapped.
"Watch out!" she heard a familiar voice.
Instantly, she bent her torso down. The man on her right was punched in the face with so much force he released her grip on her and stumbled into the marine on her left, both of them now on the ground.
She didn't even get enough time to process what was happening, something curling around her waist carefully, but so fast. A yelp left her lips when she realized she was being lifted off the ground, turning her head towards the source.
It was the straw hat's arm. He ate a devil fruit, didn't he?
He was on a boat that was sailing a few meters away in the sea and she was being pulled towards him. She also recognized the pirate hunter from earlier and a woman with orange hair, both of them far too relaxed for what was happening.
That guy was made of rubber!
She recognized Koby who just got to his feet after she got past him, her feet finally touching something solid again. She blinked confused at the straw hat.
"You can't bring everyone that you like on this ship," the swordsman let out a hopeless sigh.
She busted out laughing like a maniac, the colorful and rich sound filling the air. Her shoulders shook and she had to place her hand over her stomach, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. Obviously, her reaction was met with an especially questionable look coming from the swordsman, who most probably thought he got on a ship with another insane human.
"You're insane, kid," she wiped the tears in her eyes with her fingers, still smiling widely.
She hasn't felt such relief in years.
"I guess I gotta fulfill a promise, right?"
•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈
947 notes · View notes
forbidden-sunlight · 3 months
Text
yandere! holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part three]
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warnings: obsessive behavior, profane language, religious themes, implied manipulation, physical harassment.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile devoice or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!
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Part One
Part Two
Epilogue
Hey guys, welcome to part three of this collaborated series with @deathmetalunicorn1! I am currently on break and won't be back until the 14th, but I figured that since I had recently finished this, might as well post it for everyone to enjoy! I will make a post when I come back, so no worries, I'm not going anywhere yet~!
On another note, please keep in mind that no bullying is tolerated on here. If there is, then this segment and the other chapters will be removed in its entirety.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what will happen in today's episode :)
Yoo Kyung-Mi had been born with beauty and was taught to use it to her advantage. Her mother knew what she was talking about. Why else did she remarry a wealthy man and make their lives so much easier? It was so much better than barely getting by on their own, trapped in a dingy apartment and worrying if there will be enough food money until the next paycheck. Kyung-Mi went to university, found work at a gaming company and subsequently, a shadow to use to elevate her reputation. A lackey really, but she preferred the term shadow. It sounded much nicer. 
Her shadow was another game designer; instead of being the literal, living example of a dowdy-looking office worker, her shadow wore nice clothes. She always treated everyone equally in their department, helped whenever she could with their next project and had a nasty temper when provoked. Yoo Kyung-Mi found this out the hard way when she borrowed a coworker’s proposal and presented it at the next meeting, elevating her status as the director in charge of Labyrinth of Love. Her shadow had the fucking nerve to show her the security footage of her being at that extra’s computer, downloading the sample from the desktop and storing it in a flashdrive. 
She tried to deny it, playing the cute card of forgetting to mention the extra as being a collaborator because she was so stressed about the meeting before telling the shadow to make sure to finish her proposal on time because time was money. And then the fucking bitch grabbed her by the hair and slammed her forehead against the wall!  Her, the goddamned director! She could fire the shadow’s ass if she wanted to! This was workplace harassment! 
“You’re not the director yet, you idiot.” The shadow whispered in the shell of her ear. “That was an informal announcement, so you’re still an equal amongst us commoners. Honestly Kyung-Mi, when are you going to stop masquerading people’s creations as your own? I’ve told you back in university, during those seminars, that it would bite you in the ass. But you don’t listen.” 
“You wouldn’t be anywhere without me! You cannot live without me!” She spat. Then the shadow backed off, leaving the office as there hadn’t been a confrontation in the first place. Kyung-Mi didn’t know if the shadow was fucking mental or just didn’t give a shit about getting laid off….but she needed her shadow. It was her shadow’s creativity, like everyone else in the company, that helped MorpheusTech make millions from their products. Without them, there wouldn’t be any money. And Kyung-Mi wouldn’t have any ‘inspiration’ to elevate her status in the company. Tit for tat. 
On Monday morning, the shadow presented to the board with a game of her own. And everyone fucking loved it more than hers. Claimed that it was a breath of fresh air from the classic otome game formula. More interactions with the extra characters plus the main cast? And your choices will either boost the gamer’s stats like the Affection Meter, Morale, Reputation, or lower them? It would only be available on their digital store, and they could offer free demos to TubeTubers who have played their products in the past? Sold. The Labyrinth of Love was put on indefinite hiatus. Greenlight Fly Me To The Moon. Give her shadow everything she needs to make sure this project is a success. The company was counting on you, Kyung-Mi. Honored beauty. 
So she did. She stayed late at the office when it was past time for her to go home or go on a date. She missed her massage appointments, her precious Sundays had spent at home working on fine-tuning the game mechanics instead of shopping. Her toys started to lose interest in her. Yet she preserved because she was the heroine in this world and she would not lose.
But the final straw that broke the camel back had been all the shadow’s fault. 
Kyuing-Mi had been eyeing the gorgeous hunk Young-Min from Human Resources for a while. Tall, dark, and looked absolutely ripped in that three-piece Armani suit of his. Oh, did she mention that he was rich and super sweet? Well, now you know. When she had finally mustered the courage to approach him and confess her feelings for him (maybe use him to get rid of a certain someone), she found him with the shadow. He asked the shadow if they could get a cup of coffee later, averting his eyes and looking bashfully at the shadow. His face resembled a tomato when the shadow accepted the invitation, when the shadow smiled at him, and left to go on their break.
Honestly, the shadow should have realized that coveting someone who didn’t belong to her meant being bludgeoned from behind with a stapler. Kyung-Mi will admit that she did….she was a little angry. But if the shadow is dead, the villainess is dead, then that means she has finally everything. Not. She lost everything and got hit by a truck while crossing a busy intersection, desperately trying to search for a job before she lost her townhouse. 
Yet there was always a light at the end of the tunnel, right? Why else would she be here, possessing the heroine of Fly Me To The Moon, Cosette Lovelace? Sure, her character is supposed to be a gamer who got sucked into here and must clear it as a redeemed villainess, but where is the fun in that? All Kyung-Mi wanted to do was pursue after her bias, Sir Palamedes the second-in-command of the Holy Temple’s paladins. 
Of all the capture targets that were created in the shadow’s game, this is the one she had spent most of the time designing and writing both tragic and smutty endings with him. Thank God the shadow never knew that Sir Palamedes’ character concept looked exactly like Young-Min, from his mannerisms right down his little tic of fiddling with his hands when he was nervous.
Obsessed? No, she was observant, thank you. 
With the help of the Affection Level System, her own little playthrough guide, she was able to achieve the objectives needed to enter the Holy Temple of Aesir and unlock Sir Palamedes’ route. Everything was going smoothly until that damned extra, Harry or Harrow, had stopped her from staking her claim on Sir Palamedes. She threw something in her face, and she passed out on the floor. When she, Cosette, regained consciousness, it was almost nightfall. 
Swearing under her breath, she scrambled upright and smoothed out her grass stained skirts before all but running towards the cloisters leading back to her new private quarters. However, from seemingly out of nowhere, two older Sisters flanked her, blocking her path. She was about to turn up the innocent charm, claiming that she hadn’t meant to fall asleep under the tree with a cute  smile  when both of them wordlessly grabbed by the shoulders and hauled her into a cell. A fucking cell! Her! The heroine! 
She asked for food, and was given bread with water. When she was cold, she received a blanket and was left alone until morning. The same Sisters came back, grabbed her again and took her to the sanctuary. The pews were filled, every Brother and Sister was in attendance. The paladins circled around the altar. Her precious High Priest was there, and was her bias. So that fucking extra Harry. 
She frowned. “My flock, what is the meaning of this -” She didn’t get a chance to finish her question because a bolt of white-hot pain seared through her body. What in the world?! She looked down at the floor and there were runes under her feet, then glared back at the Sisters balefully. They had pushed her into a magic circle. How dare they do this to her?! 
Staggering to her feet, she turned her attention to the High Priest. “Father, why am I being subjected to this treatment? What have I done to you, to this congregation?!”  
“You dare to ask such a thing when the crimes against our Brothers and Sisters are so heinous that I cannot repeat them?” Harry said. She looked like shit, honestly, and she probably would look worse if she had that stupid blindfold removed. 
Yoo Kyung-Mi had never seen this character in the game, even in the demo trails….so why does Harry look so damned familiar? 
She watched Harry step forward from behind the altar, past the High Priest and Sir Palamedes. She walked down the steps, and stopped just a few feet away from the magic circle. 
“You know what you have done, Sister Esther. No…You are not worthy of being called a Sister of this Holy Temple. You are a heretic, a liar, and an adulterous beast who has dared to try and defile one of us by using an Asmodian Seed. Where and how did you acquire it?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about-” That was when the pain began again. “You-” And again. Fuck, this hurts. It really hurts. 
“Please answer the question and do not try to be clever with your answers lest you actually enjoy being in pain.” Harry said peevishly. “You know what it is because you were the one who had implanted inside Sir Palamedes. Is this not true?” Harry raised her voice. “Were you affected by this wickedness, Sir Palamedes?”
Her precious bias nodded, his beautiful violet eyes hard and cold. “I was, Lady Harrowhark, and swear by the Oath of Fidelity that I was its intended victim. I dare not think what would have happened, if you had not been there to save me.”
“You heard him. Answer truthfully this time.”
So she did. She spat in the bitch’s face. “Allow me to ask you a question, Harry. Who the fuck are you to give me orders?”
Applauded gasps and murmurs bounced across the temple’s walls. One Sister fainted from hearing such profane language, having to be carried out by two of her closest Brothers. 
But Harry didn’t react. 
Instead, she withdrew a handkerchief from her robes pockets and carefully wiped away the spit. Once she was done, she pocketed the dirty rag. Then she lifted her hands up and moved them to the back of her head, untying the mother-of-pearl cloth. She pulled it down, and two eyes that sparked like a pair of sapphires stared right at her.  Sapphires. Eyes. Cosette, Yoo Kyung-Mi, felt her heart drop into her stomach at seeing those eyes. 
The eyes that belonged to the shadow. The eyes Young-Min said were so beautiful that they took his breath away. 
“I am Reverend Sister Harrowhark, God’s Beloved. I am the Possessor of His Eyes -”
“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY?!?” Kyung-Mi screamed. “YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME, STOLE FROM ME, AND YOU HAVE THE GODDAMNED NERVE TO LEAVE A PIECE OF YOURSELF IN THIS GAME?!” 
“Heretic -”
“YES, I GAVE IT TO HIM! I GAVE SIR PALAMEDES THE ASOMEDIAN SEED BECAUSE I WANTED HIM! IF HE WERE DEFILED, HE WOULD HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO MARRY ME, AND I WOULD FINALLY BEAT YOU! YOU WERE ALWAYS MY SHADOW! YOU WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO COVET WHAT WAS MINE, YET YOU KEPT TAKING EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME! IS THAT A GOOD ENOUGH ANSWER, YOU BITCH?!” 
Harrowhark’s mouth closed, tightening into a thin line before she averted her gaze towards the choir pews, where three cloaked figures sat in silence. “Does this outburst suffice as a confession, Your Imperial Highness?” She asked them. 
The one on the right stood up, pulling back his hood and revealing himself to be, indeed, The Glorious Sun of the Helux Empire, Emperor Maximus IV. A tall, broad-shouldered man with golden hair and possessed one ruby eye. He had lost his left one in a war. That was all she knew about him. 
But seeing the  identities of his companions, once they pulled back their hoods, that brought Kyung-Mi’s muddled brain back to reality: her parents, Viscount and Viscountess Lovelace. Shit. Fuck. FUCK!
“It does. Words cannot express my anger and disgust at the thought that such a heinous crime would be enacted in the House of Aesir. Allow me, Your Holiness, to carry out her punishment here and now.”
Harrowhark frowned. “Your Imperial Highness -”
“I am already here, Your Holiness. And I have only exercised my royal authority once since I ascended to the throne twenty years ago. If it makes you uncomfortable to do it in the presence of the congregation, I am more than happy to privately announce these crimes in the palace’s interrogation chambers. It is your choice, Your Holiness.” He, the most powerful man in the Empire, lowered his head to Harrowhark. 
Harrowhark sighed. “I beseech you to not address me in such a manner Your Imperial Highness, nor to humble yourself in my presence. In the Holy Temple of Aesir, we are equal under His Eye. Please, raise your head.” The Emperor did. “In regards to the heretic…she must never darken the footsteps of these sacred grounds again, or anywhere else. What happens within the circle of nobility is no concern of mine. The church cannot be intertwined with matters of the state. We are from entirely different worlds, but we must work together to ensure that our people live in peace. Is this a satisfactory answer, Your Imperial Highness?” 
Kyung-Mi choked on her saliva. It would be awful to be separated from her bias, but to also have her silver spoon being taken from her too? She did not want to spend her second life struggling to make a living! She is supposed to be the most beloved person in this game! Everything is supposed to go her way, not Harry’s!
She watched in anxious anticipation as the Emperor, The High Priest, and her parents huddled together, speaking softly until they separated. The Viscount and Viscountess stepped to the side as the others stepped forward. 
The Head Priest glanced around the congregation, raising his arms as he spoke. “Cosette Lovelace, daughter of Viscount Lovelace. For your crimes and heresy against this most holy place, you are excommunicated from the Holy Temple of Aesir until the end of your days. May Aesir forgive you, because…in my heart, at this moment, I cannot bring myself to do so.”
He then stepped back, and the Emperor stepped forward. 
The Emperor inhaled a deep breath, closing his eye for a moment before addressing the congregation. As he did so, palace guards entered from opposite sides of the chapel near the altar. 
“I, Emperor Maximus IV, hereby use my authority in the Holy Temple of Aesir under the witness of all those in attendance. I condemn you to live the rest of your days in prison, in a cell with no windows. You tried to bring darkness to this sacred sanctuary, therefore, you will spend the rest of your days in darkness.” 
Kyung-Mi’s knees buckled, collapsing onto the carpeted floor as she stared at the Emperor in shock. No. No, this can’t be happening! I’m the heroine! I’m supposed to live a life of luxury! I can’t go to jail!  When she saw her parents descend down the stairs, her anxiety slowly dissipated into hope. No. Not yet! They love me! They wouldn’t allow their only child to starve on the streets like a beggar or rot until she was an old hag, right?!
CRACK.
Kyung-Mi’s face stung from the slap she’d just received from her mother. Quivering, she touched the reddening cheek, peering through the curtain of her blue hair at her parents. Her mother was sobbing quietly, covering her face in her hands as her father wrapped his arm around his wife’s quivering shoulders. 
“You are no daughter of mine.” That was all he said before he left alongside his sobbing wife. They left her. They fucking abandoned her when she needed him the most, these….these bastards! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO HER? WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO GO THE SHADOW’S WAY? IS IT SO AWFUL TO HAVE A HAPPILY EVER AFTER OF HER OWN?!
Then she screamed. She screamed and kicked and cried as the Emperor’s guards tied ropes around her wrists, dragging her down the aisle, towards the doors. Kyung-Mi looked over her shoulder, tears spilling down her face as she stared at Sir Palamedes, hoping Young-Mi would understand she made a mistake and just wanted to be with him, please please save her. 
But he did not look at her with tenderness and devotion as he had in the demo version of the game. Sir Palamedes stood rigidly by Harrowhark’s side, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his eyes cold and guarded. 
It was over. She had lost again. Fuck. FUCK!
©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024
Taglist: @sweetbatherodonkey @lxdymoon0357 @certifiedsimpinggalore @queenmimis @amidst-the-tempest @mochinon-yah @tonightwrites @yandere-dark-cupid @average-yandere-enjoyer @thatstrangesheep @faux-ecrivain @cassanderasblog @navierkalani
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carolmunson · 9 months
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come get me, come love me (older!modern!eddie)
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part four of who knows how many. orange colored sky set list surprise chapter, bitches. after we got rained out at the park, we finish our date at eddie's apartment in prospect heights, things heat up despite the storm. inspired by @loveshotzz older steve series: all i really want is you (see if you can spot the easter egg in this lil chapter.) tw: age gappy (reader is late 20s/early 30s, eddie is late 30s/early 40s), kissin', reader wears eddie's clothes but there's no body description songspiration: lovesick | banks
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The door to the building is wedged between a restaurant and a pet store on a long street of bars and places to eat. You’ve been down here plenty of times, the ramen spot closer to the end of the street is to die for, and one of the ice cream shops is the best in this part of the city. He unhooks the carabiner from his belt loop and hurries the key into the heavy iron grate door before bumbling into the wooden one behind it.
“Whew!” he says when you both get inside, wiping some of the rain from his face. He leads you up the stairs to the second floor and down the small hallways. “Both doors are mine, but this is the front door,” he smiles, kicking his shoes off at the mat off to the side. You do the same. “Sorry if it’s a little messy,” he says, keys jingling in his hands while he opens the door, “Maid took the week off.”
You snort when you follow him inside but he looks at you over his shoulder, “No, seriously. It was her son’s birthday on Sunday so I told her not to come in. I try to keep it together for the most part, but – I don’t know, Sasha gives it a special somethin’ I’ve never been able to do on my own.” 
It’s a little stunning, his apartment. And when you think a little you mean a lot, a floor and a half with a metal spiral staircase that separates the open concept kitchen from the living room, dining room hybrid on the wall closest to the door. Oak floors that look newly shined, a big and deep sectional closing off the space so a dining room table and chairs could be placed on the other half of the room. Even the exposed brick on the back wall looks like it was just put in. His hand rests on your back while he guides you up to the next floor, the metal cold on your bare feet, shivering against the coolness of the central air whooshing through the place.
“If you want I can give you something comfy to wear and throw your stuff in the laundry,” he says when you make it to the top, opening the door, “Bathroom is just around the corner.”
“You have in-unit laundry?” you ask with a breathy sigh.
“I know, I’m so dreamy,” he winks, “You gonna take me up on my offer? There’s towels in there already.”
“Sure,” you take off the linen shirt and pass it to him, “I’ll be right out.” 
The bathroom is small-ish but well put together, it looks like he had it gutted and redone to be more modern, navy blue marbled tiles in the shower with gunmetal hardware – he has an eye, you figure. You open one of the cabinets to see dark blue towels folded and fluffy, waiting for you. The image that meets you in the mirror makes you frown when you wipe your face off – a wet rat with mascara running down her cheeks, blush and lipgloss long faded. You sigh and do your best to wash off your face with what you can, peeling off your wet layers and keeping them on the counter.
“Wanna swap?” he asks while knocking on the door. You ball up your wet clothes, holding the towel up against your chest while you open the door a sliver, easing them out into his waiting hand. You can’t see him but you hear his little snicker while he pushes the dry clothes into your open palm. “You got it?” he asks. “I got it,” you say, balancing them into the room and shutting the door quietly. “Let me know if you want something different,” he offers. You shake out the folded clothes, big black sweatpants and an old, soft band tee. Corroded Coffin spelled out in jagged letters on the front with a marionette dangling from a demonic clawed hand on the back. “This is fine,” you say, slipping them on, “What band is this?”  “It’s mine,” he says. You can hear his footsteps walking away from the bathroom while he talks, “Told you I was a rockstar!” 
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When you’re fully changed into his sweats and shirt you emerge from the bathroom, padding out of the tiles in socked feet. You can hear him downstairs putting the leftover snacks into the fridge and freezer from the cooler. Like the sleuth you are, you take in what you can to learn more about him, inching down the short hallway and peeking into one of the rooms. His bedroom looks like a bachelor’s – not in the way a guy in their twenties would have it, but it’s clear he wants to semi impress whoever he’s taking home. You admire the coziness of the space: wrought iron bed frame – likely a vintage thrift find or thousands of dollars. Dark bedding with knit blankets at the foot of the mattress, a dark green rug under the bed atop the oak floors. His walls are littered with framed photos of him with people you don’t know. Show posters under glass from the 90s, some vintage posters from the 70s. It smells like cedar and a nice hotel lobby candle, manly and unassuming. His dressers are a deep walnut wood that compliment the floors with ease – he did say he had an eye for color. Your eyes wander, looking towards the doors of a walk in closet, more art on the walls. A beautiful baroque style mirror that looks straight out of a gothic mansion leaning heavy in the corner. However, you feel heat rush to your cheeks when, slightly hidden, you see two sets of handcuffs dangling off a small hook by one of his bedside tables. 
“Find anything interesting, Nancy Drew?” 
His low rumble makes you jump, turning to see him leaning against the wall of the hallway with his arms crossed. You breathe out a nervous giggle, “Sorry, was just seeing the place. Your room is nice.” 
“Thank you,” he nods, “I just got it redecorated — got a friend who's a killer interior designer.” 
“I bet you got a friend for everything,” you say, meeting him in the hallway where he opens the door to the next room. It's dark, covered in squares of soundproofing foam. A few different guitars hang from the wall above a big desk with three monitors, computer below whirring in a low hum. 
“I do,” he says, “We exchange a lot of favors. This is where I work from for the most part. Laundry is just a closet next to the bathroom. And uh…you saw downstairs, so I guess that’s the tour.” “It’s a really, really nice spot,” you confess, heading back down the spiral staircase, “Super good location, too.” “It wasn’t when I landed here in ‘04,” he leans on the railing at the top step looking down at you, “But you were prob’ly learnin’ fractions back then.” “You’re annoying,” you cross your arms at the bottom stairs staring up at his boyish grin, he winks again – your legs are jello. “I’m gonna change real quick, I made you a cup of coffee – there’s creamer in the fridge if you need it,” he calls out before disappearing from the staircase to change. You go to the fridge where there’s a litter of polaroids stuck to the stainless steel – most of them of a German Shepherd puppy posed with him and another guy, clean cut, nothing like Eddie.
“Whose the cute dog?” you ask when you hear his footsteps against the metal.   
“Oh that’s my nephew, his name’s Bandit,” he says, pulling a shirt over his head while he makes it back down the spiral staircase. Your eyes linger on the tattoos on his chest, trailing down his obliques, “The dog, not the guy in the pictures.” “I figured.” “That’s my buddy Steve, he’s like my brother. I was out in Chicago for a couple months helping him get his shit back on track – we got him a puppy to keep his mind off things,” Eddie snorts, watching you pour some cream into your mug. You offer to do so for him but he shakes his head, taking it from you to put back in the fridge. “Is he okay?” 
“His wife just passed away,” he says quietly. You offer him a sad face and he shrugs in that ‘What can you do?’ kind of way that guys do when they don’t know what to say, “You clothes should be all set in an hour or so.” “Oh, and then you’re kickin’ me out?” you tease, drinking your coffee up against the counter. He smirks, running his palm over the scratchy scruff of his chin and jaw. “Nah, not at all. You can stay as long as you want,” he shakes his head, his curls already starting to dry around his face – big and defined now with the summer rain, “Just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out at some old man’s house all afternoon.” “See, I was thinking how fun it would be to clear you out of your Raisin Bran,” you smirk against the lip of your mug while he makes his way towards you. He crosses his arms, taking slow steps before he’s got you caged in against the counter. If your nose knows, he definitely spritzed a spray of his cologne before he made it back down stairs – dark, spicy sandalwood enveloping you with a whisper of laundry detergent. 
“I’m almost out, actually,” he grins, lids half closing while he looks down into your eyes, “But it’s okay, I have an unopened box of Kashi multigrain in one of these cabinets somewhere.” He waits for your next dig, knowing it’s coming by the quirk in your lips – you’re full of them today. “Gotta keep that blood pressure in check,” you tease again, trying to keep yourself from smiling as he leans in, a deep short chuckle coming from his throat. You little brat, it sounds like.  “It’s really good for your heart health, actually,” he corrects, brows raising a little. A smirk flits across his full lips when he watches you falter a little, your pretty eyes glazing and glassy while he looms over you. His voice gets low and smoky, just like his cologne, “Maybe you could learn a thing or two from me, hm?”
You shut your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek – you can’t show him how good he’s getting you right now, not so soon, “Oh totally, like what the best pill cases are for my future arthritis medicine.” He laughs, the soft crows feet around his eyes crinkling with it. It’s a barking laugh, quick and sharp – you’re sharp, he likes that, “I can definitely do that.” His nose brushes yours and you brace yourself for what’s coming next, ready to feel him kiss you. To feel the buzz of his hands on you like how they were when he led you inside, when he put his hand on your hands in the park. His lips ghost above yours, breath fanning over your face while you take a final one before the inevitable. “You’ve got a quick mouth there, kleine,” he says smoothly. He reaches around you to grab his own mug of coffee, taking a long sip. Eddie catches the miniscule drop of your shoulders, a silent win goes off in his head. You want him to kiss you so bad and that makes him feel like a million bucks – fuck that – a trillion bucks. 
He steps back, taking a sip of his coffee while the apartment gets a little darker, the storm rolling further in. “What’s ‘kleine’?” you ask, trying to regain your breath. He smiles, walking over to the dimmer on the wall and easing the lights up to a warm glow. “It’s German,” he says, looking over his shoulder, “Loosely translates to baby girl.” “You know German?” you ask, trying to not let the translation send you directly into outer space. You watch him with his coffee cup make his way over to the sectional in his open living space. It’s big and inviting, covered in a sea of throws that it looks like he collected over the years. He plops down, tilting his head toward the seat next to him to encourage you over. “I did an extended run of Cabaret in Jersey like – pffft, I don’t know, a million years ago,” he shrugs, putting his coffee on the table in front of him while you plop yourself down on the deep, squishy cushions. You swallow hard when a waft of his cologne hits you again, trying your hardest not to crawl onto his lap to take him in. 
“Saw the show in ‘98 with Alan Cumming, lost my mind – I mean, really transformative for an 18 year old I guess. Years later when I moved out here I saw there was auditions for it and just got knee deep in that shit, taught myself German and everything to make it sound more authentic,” he looks forward wistfully while he recounts the story, smiling at you when he comes back to himself, “Was very helpful when I went to Berlin a few years later.” 
“Oh, how was that?” you ask, “Did you have fun? I’ve never been to Europe.” 
“I’d tell you about all the fun I had if I could remember it,” he grins,flopping his arm up over the back of the couch, beckoning you closer. “C’mere, honey,” he says, the quiet of his voice putting you at ease. You scooch closer to him while he pulls one of the blankets from the end of the chaise cushion and wraps it around your shoulders. With the blanket comes his arm with no hesitation, his hand resting on your shoulder and then down to your waist. “I like to marathon the Twilight Zone when it gets shitty out like this,” he explains, “You down?” 
“Yeah,” you smile, “I’m down. I’ve seen a couple handfuls of episodes.” 
“Yeah? What’s your favorite?” “Hm,” you think, “I think The Monsters are Due on Maple Street. It’s the first one I ever watched.”  “We’ll start with that one, then.” He operates everything from an app on his phone, it surprises you that you’re not as techy as he seems to be. It’s not long before the episode starts and his hold on you becomes more intentional, more cuddly. Thunder booms overhead when the episode gets more intense, making you embarrassed when you jolt. He giggles at you, pulling you in closer – a soft whisper of I got you leaves his lips, you barely hear it.  You snuggle up together while the episode ends and another starts, you tilt your head up toward him, “What’s your favorite?”
“Ooh, good question,” he smirks, “I think The Hitchhiker – it was the first one my uncle ever showed me when I started living with him. Scared the shit out of me.”
“You? Scared?” you quirk a brow, looking down at the way he holds you – assured, confident, “You don’t seem like someone who gets scared very often.” 
“That’s the old age, peach,” he chuckles out, low and rumbly, “All that Raisin Bran, really switches up that fight or flight.” When you laugh he looks down at you, eyes sparkling, noses close together, “Is that funny?” “Yeah, it’s funny,” you say back just as quietly, adjusting yourself a little closer to him, “You’re funny.” His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up, you feel his hand spread out on your waist while he leans in closer, pressing up against you. 
“Just funny?” he asks, watching your eyes flutter closed and then open. His lips ghosting over yours, edge of his bottom lip skating over the curve of your cupid’s bow. 
“No, not just…” you breathe, too intoxicated by how close he is, how his lips and breath tease you. His hand glides up from your waist, trailing a fingertip up the side of your neck, stopping under your chin. You shiver at the touch, goosebumps flooding your arms and legs, belly flipping in somersaults. He tilts your head up, his cocking slowly to the side while his watches for your reaction.
“The show’s about to come back on.” The words are soft and quiet when they leave your mouth, your last ditch effort while fear and excitement roar in your ears. His eyes feel like magnets that you’re constantly pulled too, locking with them while he leans in.
“It’s a boring episode,” he grumbles out quietly from behind a smirk, eyes closing while the tip of your nose is brushed with his. He teases one last time before his lips press warmly against yours, parting slightly to capture them.  You breathe in sharp through your nose, butterflies fluttering and slamming against your chest for release. His hands come up to lay themselves against your cheeks, now hot with excitement while they find home behind your head and neck. He’s fiending for you in the insatiable way he’s felt before, the way a man fiends for a woman.
His leads, taking control of the way the kiss moves with each tilt of his head, changing the intensity each time he breaks away to breathe and come back to you. His lips are full and plush, a soft pink that works for him, it’s almost innocent, when you know he’s anything but. He comes in again, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently to encourage you to let his tongue slide into your mouth. 
His hands greedily pull you in by the waist now that your tongues are brushing, wrapping up together with no space between. You whimper into it, unable to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay with his other hand roams down your back. You feel his lips stretch into a smile against yours, a growl of a chuckle coming out of his chest when he pulls away again. More kisses, soft and sweet with eyes closed, noses nuzzling before lips meet again. You climb onto his lap, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you – tight and protective. You lead this time, a hand coming up to cup his jaw while you kiss, taking his bottom lip between your teeth this time. He relents, grip softening on you, fingertips grazing the tops of your thighs over the material of his sweatpants. Your hips roll forward over his and he pulls away.
“Steady now, sugar,” he warns, looking up at you with heavy lidded brown eyes, “I don’t fuck on the first date.” You pout a little, he likes that face, “You got some kind of moral code, old man?” “M’just not that kind of girl, baby,” he shrugs lightly, taking your hand and pressing soft kisses to your fingertips. His eyes don’t leave yours, big and innocent – like he’s challenging you, “Gotta keep you wantin’ more of me.” You can’t imagine not wanting more of him, no matter how much he gave you. “Then how come you kiss me like that?” you ask, his lips still leaving pillowy kisses against your fingers, “Like you’re hungry for me?” 
“Oh, I am hungry, peach,” he smirks, tongue sliding out and gliding up the space between your first and middle finger. The tip of his tongue flicks the pads of them at the top, before taking just your fingertips into his mouth for a moment – hot and wet. Your mouth hangs open, drool collecting under your tongue at the feeling – imagining it happening exactly where you both want it to. “I think we should cut into that icebox cake,” he offers with a smile, like he didn’t just tease you into complete stupidity, “That’ll solve my problem.” He kisses your cheek as he guides you off his lap to get up, feeling lucky that he put on boxer briefs to keep his now painful erection contained – though his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Eddie comes back with two plates with heaping slices of dessert, passing you a spoon while you try your best to calm down. 
“You okay?” he asks sweetly, brushing a stray hair out of your face. You nod, shoving a bite into your mouth so you don’t scream over his gentle touch and soft eyes. So you don’t yell and stomp through his living room about how bad you want him to bring you upstairs and eat you out. So you don’t tell him about the butterflies. You eat, watch, and talk – getting stories on his tattoos, you tell him about how you just started living alone, he tells you all the best spots to get furniture. You share soft little kisses while cuddled under blankets, laughing at the bad special effects and talking about the good special effects for the 60s as the episodes continue on. You fall asleep on his shoulder and he lets out a big deep breath – he likes that you already feel comfortable enough to do so. He swallows hard, doing his best to settle down his own butterflies. 
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sourholland · 9 days
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based off of taylor swift’s song style
a/n → well i bet some people didn’t expect this story to be updated again, however here i am and here it is. this is chapter 4. what mostly inspired me to try and finish this series is the continuous love i have received through it. there were a lot of people who told me how much they enjoy it and who am i to deny them. however i know that it’s been a year since i’ve updated this so if you want off of the taglist because of disinterest, please let me know!!! same goes for wanting to be on the taglist, just lmk 🩵
summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.
warnings → strong language, nsfw content
word count → 3.4k
reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!!!
SERIES MASTERLIST
Chapter 4
“He’s fucking obsessed with you,” Sydney reasoned with you, listening to you finally debrief everything that had gone on between you and Joe over the last few weeks. “If you seriously start with all of this self-sabotage bullshit, I’m gonna kill you.”
Lena sat criss cross on the floor, silent and turning over the information you had given her carefully. Sydney was sitting on the couch beside you, knees pulled up to her chest as she spooned more ice cream into her mouth. It had been days since you slept over at Joe’s and besides a few text conversations and fleeting glances at the stadium, nothing more had happened between the two of you.
“She’s right,” Lena finally chimed in, her mass of curls held up in a claw clip she’d stolen from you during freshman year. “He’s obsessed.”
With a roll of your eyes, you turned over dramatically and buried your face into the throw pillow on your couch and screamed into it. If he was so obsessed, why hadn’t he called? Maybe because you completely overreacted after seeing one text on his phone like a psycho bitch, you thought to yourself begrudgingly. He probably thought you were crazy and territorial over guys you weren’t even with.
“I think I ruined it when I left the bar,” you sighed, considering screaming into the pillow again like a child.
“Oh my god, shut up. Men are so simple and literally do not care about stuff like that, I’m telling you. If he told you he let it go, he let it go. There’s no reason to overthink it,” Sydney assured you with a half-full mouth of chocolate ice cream. “Do you remember when I was fucking with Josh sophomore year and found out he was still hooking up with that one girl on the lacrosse team? Lily or whatever the fuck her name was–whatever, not the point–but do you remember when I deadass asked the front desk of our dorm building for a pair of scissors and walked a mile to where his car was parked and slashed three of his tires. Yeah, well he still hits me up. Men do not give a fuck.”
Lena had begun clutching her stomach in fits of laughter, rolling onto her back and shaking her head with tears prickling the corners of her eyes. You clapped a hand over your mouth, kicking Sydney and recalling how feral the three of you had been during your freshman and sophomore year. Moments like these made you wish the three of you were already living together again, as you had the prior three years. Well, Sydney shared a suite with you and Lena sophomore year and the three of you got an apartment junior year. After you told your parents that you planned to stay in Cincinnati after graduation, they knew you would need a place and gave you your graduation present early–a down payment on an apartment and your first month's rent. 
Cheering with the Bengals and substitute teaching on the side allowed you to save a little, but most of your money went towards bills. Lena and Sydney were planning to move in and split the cost three ways as soon as your prior lease was up. They had agreed to take on your portion of rent when you moved out of your previous apartment two months ago, knowing they wouldn’t have to put any money away for the down payment when they did move in with you. They still had about three weeks left until the lease was up, but you had all spent weeks packing up the other apartment slowly but surely. There were enough rooms for each of you to get your own, one was just significantly smaller than the other two. Lena had volunteered to take the space immediately, claiming she didn’t mind the lack of closet space or squeaky door.
Lena never had it in her to mind anything like that, she always just brushed it off and said it didn’t bother her one bit. She told you she was just excited to live with her two sisters, making you cry on the spot and tell her how much you appreciated her. Sydney would have taken the small room, she just wouldn’t have been happy about it and somehow both you and Lena knew she would find closet space one way or another. 
“I can’t wait for Joe Burrow to be sitting in my kitchen,” said Lena, letting Sydney spoon ice cream into her mouth now. “Or what about when you guys are fucking–”
“Lena!” You took the pillow you had been yelling into and pressed it into your flaming cheeks.
“Okay wait, answer honestly and don’t be modest. How big?” she swallowed, clasping her hands together in front of her, ready to inch them apart. “Tell me when to stop.”
“You’re both insufferable!” 
Lena, however, only continued to move her hands apart from each other with wide eyes when you still hadn’t said to stop. She hit the solid length, you nearly wheezed the word out with tears freely streaming down your face as all three of you clutched your abdomens in hysterics and girlish giggles.
“Do you need a third or what?” Sydney joked, already having pulled Joe’s Instagram up to stalk for the millionth time.
“Obviously,” you gave her a playful once over and winked, sending the three of you into fits of laughter again. 
⋆------------⋆
Practices leading up to the next preseason game against the Giants were brutal. Coaches were through with putting up with excuses and mistakes, leaving most of you on the team crying by the end of the night. When they wanted you to suffer, you suffered. Some of the senior girls who had been cheering with the team for a few years tried their best to ease the anxieties of the less-veteraned girls.
Everything hurt, all the time. Your back and legs mostly, but the soreness in your thighs and glutes made even warmups painful.
“Y/N!” Coach Traci’s voice bellowed. “What are you doing with your arms? How many times have I told you that if you can’t get this, I’m moving you back for our sideline dance sequences so you’re less visible?”
“Multiple times,” your voice came out as a little more than an embarrassed squeak. “I’m sorry, Coach.”
“Don’t be sorry, be better.”
You had to get your mind straight, shaking off the criticism and putting everything into the next time you ran the dance. Coach Traci nodded at you, the only acknowledgement of improvement that you would get for tonight. After the shitshow that was the Cardinals game, you knew better than to balk or disrespect anyone during practices. Everyone was strung out and tired, it was during a water break when you realized Joe was perched in his usual spot, headphones around his neck and running through some easy sprints. 
Good fucking god, had he heard your scolding? The thought brought you back to high school, the feeling of getting a question blatantly wrong in front of your crush or being reprimanded in front of the class for talking too loudly during a lesson. That same flutter of uneasiness left you feeling uncomfortable within your own skin, distracted again but pushing the thoughts aside in order not to repeat the whole embarrassing ordeal.
Joe was doing his absolute best job of casually sitting in on as many cheer practices as possible. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for either of you, but he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t using the fact that he is who he is to do his workouts wherever he wanted around the facility without a second glance from anyone. There were very few people meandering around, telling Joe what to do. With his injury, he was just now getting back into light conditioning and drill work so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to remain at the stadium to workout after practice had ended. He was watching from the sidelines most practices, occasionally being able to do a few workouts and passing the football around while everyone ran plays. 
He would take advantage of the opportunity to watch you while it was the most inconspicuous.
Practice unsurprisingly went late. Joe had disappeared back inside at some point, to finally go home you assumed. Once you were heaving and your body felt like pure jelly, you were finally allowed to go and grab your things and head in to shower. There were two text messages from Joe, delivered fifteen minutes prior.
Joe: Text me when you’re done
Joe: Actually do you wanna do what you gotta do and meet me in our locker room??
This boy is genuinely idiotic if he thinks you’re just waltzing into the team locker room, facility still far from emptied out. You ignored the messages until you got into your own locker room, sitting on a bench and shaking your head at his idea once again. Joe had absolutely nothing to lose here, that much was obvious from the start. You were a completely different story, though.
Y/N: Joe omg
Y/N: There are cameras everywhereeeeeeeee
Y/N: Can you just call me later?
Joe: No
Joe: Just go around the long way, don’t take the hall Emily’s office is on and come around from the other side. 
When you didn’t respond right away, he texted again.
Joe: The security camera isn’t facing the door, it’s facing who comes down that main hallway
Joe: I swear no one is gonna see you, the cameras will literally only get you taking a different hallway to walk out of the building and we can leave out of different doors
Y/N: You’re actually insane
Y/N: How do you even know what ways the camera faces???
Joe: I just walked out of the locker room and looked
Joe: I basically walked the whole thing, everyone went home 
Joe: Obviously not your team but yk what I mean, your coaches office is on the complete other side of the building 
Y/N: Go home, Joe :)
Joe: Please
Your thumbs hovered over the letters ‘N’ and ‘O’, but there was a part of you that couldn’t deny how excited the idea of seeing him again made you. The sneaking around had your gut twisting in a way that had all of your rational thoughts going right out the door. You’re pathetic, you told yourself as you glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one watched you type your next message.
Y/N: You need to see me so bad that you’re saying please?
Joe: Desperately
Y/N: Oh you’re good lmao
Joe: So I’ll see you in fifteen
Liking the message, you put your head in your hands for a moment and huffed a laugh as you finally turned on the shower and stripped yourself of the now sweaty practice clothes. Most of the girls showered at home after night practices, so only a few remained readying to leave. You took your time, double shampooing and ensuring as many people as possible had departed from the practice facility. 
“Good night, girl!” Carolina called out, walking out the door and leaving only you.
“Night, Carol!”
With shaky breaths, you brushed your wet hair once again and looked into the mirror. You had no makeup on and wore shorts and a Bengals hoodie now, which did nothing for your confidence as you walked out of the locker room with your bag in hand and cast your eyes downward. In your attempts to look unsuspicious, you took the long back hallway that wrapped around the inside of the stadium. There was the muffled sound of the janitors' speakers, but they were far from where you were and each office and support center looked desolate and left for the night.
The door to the players’ locker room was slightly ajar, leaving you to glance around again and double check Joe’s camera assessment. He was right, there was a camera on the end of the hallway, but it faced the opposite direction and caught whoever took the main entrance inside of this part of the building. Quickly, you slipped into the much nicer locker room and shut the door behind you. 
“That was twenty-five minutes,” Joe’s voice sounded from behind you.
“This is a stupid idea,” you cast him a playfully annoyed glance and locked the door behind you, turning to find him in shorts and a black T-shirt. “You’re a really bad influence, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told,” he walked towards you with such ease that you wouldn’t have believed he was just bed-ridden from surgery. His fingers found the hem of your hoodie, smirking down at you in his usual arrogantly charming manner. “I’m still glad you came, though. Even if I compromise your moral judgment so badly.”
He is so fucking hot, you thought as he continued fiddling with your sweatshirt. How is it possible to have this much sex appeal? How is it humanly possible for anyone to resist a look like his? Your entire body was on fire, swallowing hard and wondering once again how you wound up here with him.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed. “I know I keep saying that and you’re probably sick of it. It’s true, though.”
The pads of his thumb and index finger brushed your bare torso, the circular motion leaving you breathing a bit heavier. His touch was less feverish than usual, more gentle and fleeting like he wanted you to know how much he wanted you. Hardly blinking, you let the tense silence guide you towards him in a way that left you practically flush against each other. Joe’s breathing hitched, giving you those sultry bedroom eyes and stupid smirk.
This time it was you who could no longer resist, kissing him softly as if to say that you, too, could not stop thinking of him. He slid his arms around your lower back, allowing you to wrap yours around his neck. Your back arched slightly at the long kiss, his right hand lowering to grab your ass and squeeze. He somehow maneuvered the two of you farther into the locker room between open-mouth, breathy kisses. Your back collided with the wall to the right of the sequence of open lockers, his mouth on your neck and biting gently at the skin of your collarbone. 
He pulled your hoodie off, throwing it somewhere behind him. Your fingers found his hair, tugging as he marked your chest up ravenously. A problem for later, you pushed the thought away and let your head roll to the side as he palmed both of your breasts through the fabric of your sports bra, occasionally leaving a hum of pleasure against the soft skin between your breasts. He kissed down your stomach and held you roughly by one hip, sinking to his knees looking up at you asking permission. 
“Did you know this was going to happen when you texted me?” You teased, still holding onto him by his hair. 
“When I texted you,” he started, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I prayed to god that this would happen, but I figured you were gonna tell me to fuck off.”
With a playful shove of his head, you looked away with blazing skin and blown pupils. Joe pulled down your shorts in one quick motion, running his hands down your hips and thighs with a lustful expression. He kissed you over the fabric of your underwear, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. There was no denying the arousal dripping from you, wetting your panties, leaving Joe to raise an eyebrow and flash you an egotistical grin. A breathy moan escaped you and he stopped, causing a near-whimper to come from you.
“Quiet, baby,” he chided softly, “I need you to be quiet or we’re both fucked.”
The fact that he had called you baby was something to dissect tomorrow, you only inhaled sharply at his words. He looked up at you again with hair falling over his forehead, “can you be quiet for me?”
If he kept looking at you like that, you would do just about anything for him. You gave him a nod and he kneaded the flesh of your thigh now, finally pulling your underwear down and discarding them carelessly. He wrapped your right leg around his shoulder, on his knees before you.
“Can’t say that I’m complaining at this sight, right where you belong,” you whispered, cheekily.
“You’re hilarious,” he rolled his eyes and pinched your backside. “I’m on my knees for you anytime, just say the word.”
He didn’t give you even a second to respond, tonguing you with such desperation that your toes curled the second he put his mouth on you. Your slick had already coated his mouth and chin, his tongue running between your folds as his nose brushed the bundle of nerves. You struggled to keep quiet, eyes squeezing shut as you rocked your hips into his mouth and relished in each breathy moan that escaped him and reverberated against your center. 
His thumb went to your clit, rubbing feverishly at the bud and watching you turn to putty in his hands. Your legs began to shake violently, wondering how much longer you could stand the tight coiling in your belly. One of your hands remained in his hair, the other gripped the hard wall for any semblance of steadying as he devoured you. 
He grunted against you, picking up his pace and letting his hands explore as you bit back each and every sound you wished to make. He steadied you as you came undone, panting and unable to move or see. Stars clouded your vision, black spots causing you to close your eyes and breathe for a moment as you regained feeling of your body again.
The handle of the door shook, someone was trying to get in.
“Fuck,” you whispered at Joe, who was already carefully dropping your leg and reaching back to grab your shorts and hoodie. 
You slid the shorts on, throwing the hoodie over your head and letting Joe silently lead you farther back into the locker room where the showers were. He gave you a look that said to sit tight and make no noise. He didn’t look nearly as nervous as you, legs still gelatin and causing you to have to lean back against the wall to ensure your balance.
“Anyone in there?” A man’s voice sounded, muffled slightly from the distance now between you and the door. 
“Yeah!” Joe called out as casually as possible, he sauntered over to the door and flicked the lock and opened it. A janitor stood before him, cart beside him to clean. “Hey, Phil. I stayed late tonight, I don’t know why I locked the door. Must’ve been a reflex.”
Phil nodded slowly, he looked into the locker room and saw it all emptied out. Joe rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing and waiting for the man to say something. Phil only coughed and averted his eyes when he saw the lilac underwear balled up on the floor. He met Joe’s eyes and muttered that he’d come back around once he left, but not to be more than ten more minutes. Joe gave him a gracious thanks and sighed in relief as the man retreated down the hallway and brought his cart into another room, shutting the door behind him and turning his radio up considerably louder than he’d ever heard him play it.
“You can come out now,” he said, turning around and seeing the panties on the ground. He had no clue if Phil had seen them, but he also had no doubt that Phil was no busybody or gossip at his ripe age of at least seventy. 
“Do I get to keep these?” He asked as you came out from the showers, holding them up and smirking.
“Did I or did I not say that this was a stupid idea?” 
“Is that a yes or a no?”
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sydnikov · 1 year
Note
saw you were asking about requests and if that’s still the case: something hurt/comfort where the reader is comforting svech when he finds out he has have to surgery, and helping him through the recovery process.
either established relationship or a feelings realization maybe? whatever you’re most comfortable with.
In Five || A. Svechnikov
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Author: Sydney / @sydnikov
Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov/Reader
Word Count: 6.7k
Warnings: Cursing (mild this time), sports injury (torn ACL/ligament), steamy kissing, bad proofreading, so much angst, but don’t worry there’s fluff at the end
A/N: I really tortured myself writing this. The emotions are still high, I hate the Bruins (sorry Bruins followers), and I hope you guys get all the feels as you read this. In all seriousness though, THANK YOU to whoever sent this in because it got me out of my writer’s block. (p.s. I’ve now opened requests to get me more inspired… so go submit stuff!!) anyways, I hope y’all enjoy 😁
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It wasn’t bad. Not at first glance—at least that’s what you told yourself from the stands, clenching your fingers so hard they left nail indentations in the middle of your palms.
But you knew. You knew your best friend because you could read him like a book. Every twitch of the eye, a quirk of his lips, they all were a glimpse into his mind of what he was thinking. Andrei is your favorite book, and you just reached the chapter where everything starts to fall apart.
He was trying to hide it, the pain he was feeling from the quick stumble he took at center ice. It was just a small muscle pull, though, right? That’s what you thought, but then you saw him skate to the bench, favoring his right knee with the expression of one who knew he messed up.
Andrei played the rest of the game, but as you headed down to the locker room you couldn’t fight the feeling of dread steadily creeping up your heart.
“Hey,” you greeted a few of the girls leaning against the wall, waiting for their significant others to finish interviews. You were sort of an outcast in that manner, because Andrei wasn’t yours… No matter how much you wanted him to be. “Has he come out yet?” you asked.
The solemn shake of their heads gave you your answer, and you didn’t even bother trying to hide your worry when you leaned back against the wall with them, anxiously chewing your lip. The time came and went, seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to an hour of watching the other Hurricanes players come and go—none of them the man you wanted, no needed to see.
It was times like these where you questioned how you got here, waiting on Andrei like a girlfriend but being firmly stuck in the friend zone. He had never made you feel like anything less because of it, but you felt it aching in your very bones when he’d flash a smile to the girls at the bars you frequented, or when he’d ask you whether the blue shirt or the red shirt would look better on a date with the cute girl he met at a shopping mall.
It was funny, too, because you hadn’t met him any differently than he’s met the other girls he’s taken out. It was at a bar, actually, one in downtown Raleigh not too far of a drive from PNC Arena, and you were nursing a drink with a few friends from work when the place exploded in activity because players from the Carolina Hurricanes had just arrived.
You didn’t ask “who?” like one of your coworkers asked, because you loved hockey and went to a decent amount of games, and you could confidently answer which player had which number. In one game you’d even managed to snag glass seats, and that had been the best night of your life.
Never had you actually met any of the players, though. Odd, considering you had always made it a habit to go out at least once on the weekends, but one fateful Saturday night was when you finally were able to get a good look at the players outside of their hockey uniforms. You were content to merely watch them from a distance, but soon you realized they were just like any other regular bar patrons and soon lost interest in eyeing them a few tables back.
It was as you were ordering another drink that you caught from the corner of your eyes a body settling down on your right, too close to be convenient because there were other open seats far from you. You hadn’t been looking for a hookup that night, though, so you figured playing hard-to-get might ward off any men looking for a quick one-night stand.
“Hi,” the man suddenly spoke, accent too thick to be attributed to intoxication. A foreigner? You met his eyes, your gaze colliding with warm brown that reminded you of the hot chocolate you’d buy to keep your hands warm in the winter. “Drink not up to standards?” he said, leaning against the bar counter to get a better look at you.
Your brain had short-circuited, because wow this guy was good-looking, and it only took another minute of analyzing his features with your tipsy brain to realize you were talking to Andrei Svechnikov, or rather, he was talking to you.
“Not much of a drinker to begin with.” you had replied smoothly, shocking even yourself because talking to attractive men had never been a strong suit. “What about you? What do you drink?”
You and Andrei, who had later introduced himself and to which you responded with a cheeky quirk of your lips, “I know”, had hit it off immediately. You talked for hours that night, unable to shake the undeniable chemistry you had between you until one of your friends ran into you slurring her words and stumbling in place that signaled your outing time was up.
You exchanged numbers that night, and unbeknownst to either of you, your hearts were beating in tandem for days after, and brains spiraling with ‘what ifs’ and ‘I think they like me’. Unfortunately… It had never gone beyond that, because communication was hard to begin with for Andrei without the added challenge of having to speak English, and well–past relationships have made it a little hard for you to put your trust in people.
So, here you were. Confidently able to say that Andrei was one of your closest friends who you just so happened to be in love with, but knowing it would never go beyond that. You’d rather have Andrei in your life as a friend than not at all, right?
That’s what you told yourself when you finally heard the familiar sound of Andrei’s deep voice from the locker room, coming closer and closer as the distance between you decreased.
“No, no,” Andrei said, firmly, finally making his appearance. “No hospital. I feel fine.”
“Son, you’re favoring your knee. You need to go, now.” Head Coach Rod Brind’Amour marched in right behind the left winger. “I let you wait out the rest of the game, that’s what we agreed.”
Andrei remained in place, stubbornly glaring at the older man with the two looking like raging bulls getting ready to charge the other.
“‘Drei?” you finally found the courage to speak, hesitantly stepping forward and breaking the heated glare between the two men. You didn’t even notice until now that the athletic trainer was waiting behind them, phone held to his ear. “What’s going on?”
Immediately, the Russian’s eyes whipped towards you and he stepped back from Rod immediately. He said your name in slight confusion, even embarrassment at being caught in the metaphorical pissing match between him and his coach.
“I—” he licked his lips, struggling to find the words in English. “My knee. It is… Messed up.”
“Messed up?” you said. “What do you mean?”
That’s when Rod popped in. “He took a bit of a stumble on the ice, it didn’t look too serious at first but his knee is hurting.” He turned to glare at Andrei. “He can barely stand on it.”
Andrei clenched his jaw, attempting to shift his weight onto his right knee, but he could barely manage to stand before his face twisted up in pain and he had to use the wall to balance himself.
You stepped up to the Russian, worriedly wringing your hands together before stilling them to grab your stubborn friend's arm. “You’re too stubborn for your own good,” you smiled wryly, attempting to mask your worry with a small tease.
Andrei towered over you, but his size had always made you feel safe rather than scared, and that applied to now, roo. “I am fine, darling,” he murmured the pet name in Russian, his voice matching the softness of his eyes he could never hide when looking at you. Sometimes he’d speak in his native tongue in front of you because he knew you didn’t understand, and the scowl on your face afterward always made him laugh.
But, even though he was definitely not fine, he could barely take having to bother his teammates and coaches with his issues, nonetheless you. He didn't want you to see him so weak, at least not like this.
“My knee is just stiff. Sore.” he shot a look towards Rod, who up until this moment had been staring at the wall to give the two of you privacy. “It is not that bad, I am sure of it.”
“Then you’ll go to the hospital to get it checked out since it’s ‘not that bad’.” Rod deadpanned, finally breaking the bubble of tension that always seemed to surround you and Andrei when together.
“I agree with him, Andrei,” you said, placing another hand on his arm to gain his attention. “You need to get it looked at, at the very least.”
You gave him your best puppy eyes, peering up at him as he stood over you. You could see the hesitation on his face, knowing his protesting was mostly because he hated bothering others with his problems.
“If not for your career, do it for me?” you said, attempting to bring back his smile by poking him in the chest. “Please?”
A moment of silence, you staring at Andrei and Andrei staring at you…
“—fine.”
He agreed, but his knee was not fine as he said it was. It was bad because it wasn’t actually his knee that had been causing his pain, but rather a torn ligament connected to the knee that turned out to be the ACL in his right leg.
And Andrei was devastated. You weren’t allowed to be in the room with him while they checked him out because he needed an MRI, but Martin and Seth were and it was them who came up to you in the hallway, grim looks on their faces as they broke the news. You could hear the raised voices of both Andrei and Brind’Amour shouting from the room.
You couldn’t see Andrei’s face, but you felt your heart breaking for him anyways as the doctor probably told him how long his recovery would take, the physical therapy he would need to endure, and the amount of time he wouldn’t be able to play hockey for.
“Nine months,” Andrei said, angrily typing away on his phone to his brother, Evgeny, probably. “Maybe six if I am lucky.”
You remained silent, watching him from the kitchen counter at a loss for words. You had offered to drive Andrei home, unofficially taking on the role of caretaker since Martin lived with his girlfriend and Seth was, well… Seth.
Andrei was on the couch, dressed in an old Hurricanes hoodie with shorts, his right leg propped up on a stool wrapped in a temporary cast. His face was flushed, and his hair messy from all the times he had run his hands through it. You knew he was in pain, both mentally and physically, but it really was unfair how he still managed to look so attractive all throughout.
Leg cast and all included.
“Is that what the doctor said?” you asked, finally gaining the courage to speak as you crossed the room. You carefully sat on the couch next to him, not wanting to jostle his leg.
The Russian dropped his phone on his lap, bringing a hand up to rub his eyes before gazing at you with determination. “Yes. But I’m going to be better in five.”
You finally cracked a smile, there’s the ‘Drei you knew and loved, your first one since hearing the news and bringing him back to his house. Andrei couldn’t help but grin, feeling the fondness for you in his heart grow. You were so good to him, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep his feelings to himself while you stayed with him.
He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t mind having you stay with him for the rest of the year, though. Andrei was selfish, and he was also possessive, so he liked having you to himself. He considered Martin and Seth and Sebastian his good friends, his teammates, his bros if you will, but you were his. His best friend, his best girl—you were the only one he wanted, and maybe this new living situation would give him the opportunity to finally tell you.
Andrei just hoped you felt the same. He wouldn’t be able to stand losing you because he couldn’t keep his heart under control.
“Well, you know I’ll be here to help you get through it.” You stated with conviction, reaching over to give his hand a squeeze and your heart beating all the while.
You held your unspoken promise, especially on the day of his surgery a little less than a week after his prognosis. It was an early surgery on a Thursday morning, and you even called off work so you could be at the hospital with him when he woke up.
You already knew most of your friends and family were wondering why you were putting so much effort into caring for someone who was just a friend, and if you were being honest you didn’t have much of an answer to give them. They had a point after all, right?
You and Andrei were just friends. That was it. You may be in love with him (now more than ever), and you definitely omitted that little detail during past conversations, but still. Friends move in with each other to help recover from big injuries all the time.
This time with Andrei was no different, and you had to repeat this mantra over and over again in your head as the anesthesia slowly wore off and his eyes were so soft and droopy, mumbling his words and his accent was thicker than ever and your heart was beating so fast it was going to jump out of your chest–
“Thank you for being here with me,” Andrei slurred, gazing up at you with those warm, half-lidded eyes.
You grabbed his hand, gently, lacing your fingers together and squeezing once. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
Andrei squeezed back once before losing consciousness, his eyes closing and his head lolling back against the pillow. “That’s normal, right?” You asked the nurse, who was busy writing on a clipboard. She only had to look up once to take in the situation before responding.
“Everyone responds to anesthesia differently. Your boyfriend is just one of many who has to sleep it off.”
You felt your stomach drop, your eyes widening only slightly at the nurse’s casual use of ‘boyfriend’. Of course, that’s what you and your best friend must have looked like to her, right? You, holding Andrei’s hand, and he gazing up at you like you hung the stars and the moon.
It was probably just the drugs in his system. Definitely.
Andrei was cleared to leave the hospital the next day, and you heard the news from the group chat you, Martin, and Seth were in. It was comically titled, ‘Andrei’s bobble-leg’, courtesy of Seth, of course, and it was essentially just the three of you coordinating who has Andrei duty on the days you weren’t able to be with him.
Unfortunately, the day he was able to go home was the day you had to be back at work, so Martin and Seth left their morning skate early to drive him home. And so, here you were now, finally off from work and driving down Capital Blvd road to Andrei’s home.
Martin, Seth, and surprisingly quite a few of the players were already there when you arrived. You knocked on the front door before letting yourself in, curiosity written all over your face as you walked closer to all the noise.
Happy shouts of your name rang across the room when you appeared in the doorway, and your face flushed red in embarrassment at all the eyes suddenly upon you. “Hey guys,” you said, eyes scanning around the room looking for the only man you really cared about.
Finally, you found him. Andrei was seated on his couch, leg safely propped up on the ottoman and wrapped in tight bandages and a brace. He had an Xbox controller in his hand, the video game he was previously playing on pause.
“How was work?” Sebastian asked from the right of Andrei, also holding a controller. There were several bags of chips laid out across the ottoman, and both men were currently snacking.
It was probably against their diet, but you weren’t going to be the one to tell them that, especially Andrei.
“Work,” you finally responded, rather dry. Most of the population, including you, unfortunately, were not lucky enough to play the sport they loved as their job.
A few chuckles and about an hour later, everyone began packing up to leave. Somehow, you had gravitated toward Andrei during this time of catching up with his teammates and ended up on the couch next to him, on his left. His arm was casually strewn across the back of the couch, fingertips playing with the ends of your hair and occasionally brushing against your neck, sending shivers up your spine.
You liked to pretend it was just you harboring feelings for him sometimes because it was less scary, but every day that fantasy was getting harder and harder to live… Especially when you would turn your head to catch a peek at his side profile, and he was already staring as if knowing the effect he had on you.
“How’s your leg feeling?” You asked once you heard the front door shut, signaling the exit of the last guest. It was silent other than the TV playing softly in the background, it having changed from Call of Duty to a rerun of Friends some time ago.
Andrei sighed, attempting to hide his emotional turmoil with a smile. Bringing his arm down from the back of the couch, he tentatively rested it on your shoulders, gauging your reaction before bringing you to his side. He’s been an affectionate person since you first met him, so you were used to the random hand-holding or hugs, but it still never failed to make you long for something more.
He patted his leg gently, careful not to disturb it from where it rested. “Hurts. But that is to be expected, no?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it can’t suck.” You said, your voice nothing more than a murmur. You rested your head against his shoulder, tugging at a loose string on one of your sleeves.
The hockey player didn’t respond, instead, he placed one of his big hands on your shoulder and squeezed, a sign he at least heard your attempt at reassurance. Time passed quickly like this; Friends continued playing, as did your position tucked into Andrei’s side.
You felt at peace, and while he didn’t say it with words you could tell the Russian beside you felt the same. Hopefully, the next few months of healing will just fly by.
And they did, at first. But even though the Carolina Hurricanes were missing one of their star players, the games must go on. His teammates went out on the ice, each and every one of them feeling Andrei’s absence keenly.
You felt it too, as the Boston Bruins scored their fourth and final goal of the night, winning the game in a shootout. The hope immediately dissipated within your chest and in rose frustration and disappointment to take its place, but you were sure that was nothing compared to what Andrei was feeling beside you.
The entirety of the game, your hand was wrapped in Andrei’s, his squeezing down when the Bruins scored their first goals in regulation and releasing to clap when we were finally able to tip the puck in. Then the team came back in the third period—you weren’t sure what Brind’Amour had said to the boys during the second intermission, but whatever he said had worked.
The Hurricanes had been controlling the puck in the Bruins’ zone, something they had failed to do in the first two periods. They were passing, aiming, shooting, scoring, first by Skjei in the corner of the net and then by Aho on a tight pass from Martinook that slipped right past Swayman’s shoulder.
It was looking so good because Andersen had finally gotten his head in the game and the defense had stepped up, but then we went past overtime scoreless, and then to the fateful shootout.
You had felt the anxiousness from every fan in the arena. If anyone was an avid Hurricanes watcher, including you, they knew shootouts had never been this hockey team’s strong suit.
Andrei’s frustration was palpable next to you. His left leg was bouncing up and down for the entirety, and you could see the muscles tensing and untensing in his right leg as if he had wanted to move. It only got worse when Brind’Amour sent Burns out first, something that had you, Andrei, and every single Hurricanes fan in the arena watching on in confusion.
“No, no,” you had heard the Russian mutter from next to you. “Why is he sending Brent? He needs to send Fishy, or Turbo—” the words then died in his mouth as Brent missed as everyone knew would happen, and sadly Teuvo, who went out next, did too.
Unfortunately for us, the Bruins had good goal-scorers. Coyle had slipped the puck past Andersen, as did DeBrusk, and then it was done. Game over. Just like that.
You finally turned to face the man next to you just as his head fell into his hands, tugging at his hair and messing up the gel you forced him to put on because no, Andrei, you can’t show up with bedhead. He was muttering words you couldn’t understand, most likely the creative Russian curses you heard him say on occasion.
If this game had been hard to watch for you, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how Andrei was feeling.
“‘Drei,” you said, tentatively. “Are you—”
“No. Don’t.” He snapped, rubbing at his eyes before unsteadily rising to stand. His right leg shook, but he refused the arm you held out and didn’t dare to look in your eyes to see what look they held. As he tried to reach for his crutches, his leg buckled from underneath him, and this time you ignored the hurt of him lashing out to put your arms around his back to steady him.
“Can we— Is it okay if…” he struggled to speak, his accent thick with emotion as he struggled to find the words. Andrei had never been good at communicating when upset, literally, because everything always came to him in Russian naturally, and this time was no different. “Leave? Can we leave?”
“What about—”
“No. No team. No reporters.” he said, digging his fingers into the back of his jersey you were wearing.
You softened, gently maneuvering your body so you could face him better. Now you were chest-to-chest, your arms still wrapped around his midsection to keep him steady. “What do you want then, Andrei?”
“Home,” he murmured. “Home. With you.” he wasn’t able to convey it right at this moment, but his heart was pounding as he said the words. To him, to anyone in his culture, this was the closest he could come to expressing his love without outright saying it.
He found he wasn’t scared about finally admitting this out loud, either, because you were his home. Everything about you was home because he wouldn’t dare let anyone else except his brother and mama see him so vulnerable.
Of course, you were oblivious. He normally found it cute, but right now he wanted to shake you because all he wanted right now was to hold you in his arms and kiss you as he found comfort in your presence.
“Okay,” you finally whispered, the double meaning of his words flying right over your head. But something emboldened you, gave you the courage to raise your hands to his shoulders so you could reach up and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, right next to the corner of his lips.
“Let’s go home, ‘kay?”
The ride home was silent, comforting even despite the rough loss the team took. By the time you finally managed to get to the car, the two of you were struggling to keep your eyes open and also keep your hands off each other. Andrei tangling your hands together, you gently leaning against his side…
It was all surface-level, neither wanting to speak the words out loud but yet not wanting to sacrifice the innocent, physical intimacy you found with each other. This was all racing through your mind the closer you got to Andrei’s house, and you were almost positive he was thinking the same.
Andrei, in fact, was actually contemplating the one-hundred different ways he was going to kiss you, if he ever gets to that stage with you. He was currently facing the window but left enough room at the corner of his eyes to take little peeks at you, only fuelling his determination to do something about the tension between you.
And, yeah, maybe he was hyperfixating on you to distract him from the fact his team lost and if he was down on the ice he knew he would have been able to fix it, been able to score. His emotions had skyrocketed since the game ended, and everything felt so much more intense than usual.
Maybe that was just the pain medication he was on, though…
After you finally arrived at Andrei’s house, it took a little bit over an hour to finally get yourselves ready for bed. The problem? Neither of you were ready for any sort of sleeping, and you both knew it.
Currently, Andrei was leaning back into the couch, his right leg once again propped up on the ottoman and a blanket haphazardly thrown over his lap. You were next to him, legs comfortably tucked underneath you with a few inches of space left between you and Andrei.
There was half a family-sized bag of Doritos in between you that he said was in his pantry, so you were both currently snacking on them while watching the NHL channel. It was quiet other than for the TV, for neither of you were speaking a word for fear of breaking the thick silence between you.
The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife, and what made it even worse is that you didn’t think Andrei even noticed. He was wrapped up in his phone, most likely watching the game recap because his face was twisted up and his whole body seemed tense.
You shoved another Dorito in your mouth. Fuck. You were so, so screwed. You needed to get it together before you said something you regretted, especially since you had temporarily become his roommate.
Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and spoke. “Andrei?” you said, hesitantly looking towards him.
“What?” he responded after a moment, not taking his eyes away from his phone.
Now you felt uncomfortable. Before, in the arena, he was looking at you like he loved you, but now he was snappy and tense and worse than normal because his team lost without him being able to play.
Picking at the skin around your nails, you attempted scooting down the couch before just giving up and moving to stand. “Nevermind,” you said with a mutter, feeling withdrawn and defeated. If he didn’t want to open up to you, fine, but you didn’t deserve to have him take out his frustration on you.
At least, not like this.
Andrei didn’t even respond, furthering your feelings of bitterness towards the man you had so many feelings for. Wrapping your hands in the long sleeves of his hoodie you were still wearing, you shuffled down the hallway and into the guest room you claimed as your own.
You could still hear the TV playing in the background, but that was the only sound in the otherwise silent house. You blinked the frustration from your eyes and crawled underneath the bed sheets, scrolling on your phone until you fell into a dreamless sleep.
Hours passed of restless tossing and turning, and then suddenly it was three in the morning and you were being woken up by countless knocks on your door.
“The fuck?” you muttered sleepily, crawling out of the cocoon of blankets you were in to answer your door. For whatever reason, your sleep-addled brain wasn’t able to comprehend that it was probably Andrei on the other side. “Andrei?” you said, confused as the Russian leaned against the wall.
He looked rather sheepish, slightly embarrassed. His hair was ruffled, and the TV was still playing so he probably fell asleep on the couch.
“Oh, shit,” you said, suddenly realizing that he was probably here because he needed help. Of course. That was all it was. “I’m such an idiot, sorry,” you breathed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you stepped out of the room. “C’mon, I’ll help you get in bed.”
Andrei stopped you with a hand, opening and closing his mouth as he struggled to find words. “No, that is not it.” he finally settled on.
Okay, now you were curious. “Huh?”
“I am sorry.”
What?
“For what?” You asked, staring up at him wide-eyed. You were honestly too tired for a heavy conversation like this so you were struggling to keep up.
Andrei swallowed the lump in his throat. His leg was currently throbbing, but it was nothing compared to the throbbing in his heart as he looked at you. Your hair was all over the place in the most endearing way, and your eyes were droopy in a way that told him you were just sleeping.
“For not treating you right, for—” He cut himself off, sighing in frustration. Why was English so complicated? If only you understood English. “English is stupid.” he muttered, then released a big sigh and steeled his resolve.
Stepping closer, he brought the two of you chest-to-chest and brought his arms to cage you against the wall.
And you, you meanwhile, let out the most embarrassing noise possible when he suddenly got close, and then Andrei was everywhere and nowhere all at once. His body was trapping you in, and while your senses were on overdrive you strangely enough didn't feel like fleeing.
“Andrei?” You squeaked, sinking further into the wall if it was possible. Your eyes dropped, finding the center of his chest to firmly set your gaze. His eyes were so dark, intimidating, and swimming with an intention you were nervous to find out. “What are you doing?”
“Look at me, please?” A large hand smoothed against your skin, gently tilting your head up. Your eyes automatically locked with his, and the emotion on his face had you gasping. “There’s my girl,” He said.
Okay, yeah, your body was frozen, the breath leaving your lungs in a torrent of sharp breaths. This… This was new territory, for the both of you, and you couldn’t help but wonder how Andrei looked so calm while you looked like a startled deer—an unattractive one, at that.
He started speaking, heart thundering while the words poured from his throat like warm, melted butter. “I’m in love with you. You are my person, I knew from the very first moment I saw you in that bar so many months ago. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but tonight, having you next to me… You’ve always been next to me, and I’ve taken advantage of that. Darling, I want to make up for all the times I never kissed you senseless, and I want nothing more than to have you as mine, and I yours.”
Your favorite music, your favorite voice, words so filled with emotion and yet you couldn’t even understand him as he looked at you like you were his sun, and he a plant desperately seeking your warmth. Andrei had only spoken in Russian a handful of times in front of you – most being curses or quips exchanged with Pyotr – and never had he spoken so much of it.
You’d always thought Russian was rather harsh. The sharp whistles, clicks of the tongue, hissing of certain words; you admired anyone who could speak it, but it had never been an easy language to listen to you. But, when Andrei spoke Russian… It was soft, almost musical, and expressive to the point you felt like you could understand the very subject at hand if you thought about it. Maybe you were just biased, but you swore you fell more in love with him every time he spoke it.
“No words?” he said, a grin on his face that made you realize you’d maybe been silent for a little too long.
You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You were breathless— literally.
“I show you, then, what I said,” Andrei brushed his fingers against the side of your neck, almost fully grasping it as he gently brought you closer. You had no complaints, though. “Yes?”
He said your name again, looking at you with those warm eyes so full of depth they hypnotized you and had you nodding yes, almost instinctively.
Andrei sucked in a breath, tightening his grip on you only slightly as he slid his hand around the back of your head. Your lips were slightly parted, shiny and red from where you’d been biting them previously, and that cupid’s bow that always drove him crazy when you smiled was quirked upwards as if it was asking him to kiss you.
He waited a moment, stared into your eyes, his fingers merely a whisper of a touch against your cheek, and finally took the leap. The first touch of his lips was shy, testing, but then you whimpered with need and tugged at his shirt to bring him closer and Andrei had an internal moment of fuck it where he realized just how crazy he was for you. Pressing you into the wall, he nipped at your bottom lip and was granted entrance with a gasp drowned out by the sound of his own groan. He put every ounce of his passion and love and relief into this kiss as if trying to convince you to stay because this, this here? It was worth it—you were worth it. Fireworks, electricity, butterflies, and everything all at once was igniting in your gut and caused you to let out a pathetic whimper the moment your lips finally detached. He was clearly skilled at this, wholeheartedly controlling the moment as his lips left a trail of kisses down your neck, nipping at the skin that met your collarbone.
“‘Drei,” you gasped, clutching the hair right at his scalp – when did you move your arms around his neck? – as he sucked a mark under your jaw. “Hm?” he hummed, not stopping with his ministrations.
“What,” you said, throat dry and raspy as you tried to speak over the sound of your beating heart. “What did you say— oh,”
Andrei’s grin was almost feral as he drew the beautiful sound from your lips. “Found it,” he said, voice full of pride as he brushed his fingers against the newly-found sweet spot on your neck.
Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed his head in between your hands, bringing his head to yours so you could press a quick, affectionate kiss to his lips before pulling back to gather your thoughts because you had a lot of them.
Andrei pouted the moment you pulled him away but respected your boundaries and merely rested his hands on your waist to keep you close. He said your name gently, his tone bordering on questioning. “Did I… Did I push too far?” he said.
“No, no, not at all,” you rushed to correct him, already having caught the guilt in his eyes. “I just want to know what you said earlier, before you— you know.” It felt almost taboo to say ‘before you kissed the life out of me’, not wanting to break this delicate balance you found yourself in.
The Russian hummed, already catching on to your bashfulness and deciding to tease you for it. “No, darling, I think you need to remind me,” he brought a hand up to loosely wrap around your neck, the contact keeping you grounded. “On what I did before what?”
“Andrei,” you said, immediately dropping eye contact as your face flushed red. “You’re being a tease,” you muttered.
He dipped his head, brushing your lips together as he spoke. You felt his breath against your skin and had the sudden desire to taste him again. “I can do this all night, but the question is can you?”
You gave up at that because the moment he spoke he drew back and you couldn’t stand the feeling of not having him close to you anymore. “Andrei,” you sucked in a breath. “What did you say before you kissed me? In Russian?”
“I love you,” Andrei didn’t miss a beat as he crept his other hand farther up your waist. “That is mostly what I said. And more.”
“More?” you squeaked out as he drew closer.
The hockey player hummed, then suddenly stepped back and grabbed your hand. “Much more,” he confirmed. “Now—bed?” Short, sweet, and to the point Andrei always was…
Just one of the many things you loved about him.
Twenty minutes later you lay in Andrei’s bed, swallowed in another one of his shirts, and curled into his chest. His arm was wrapped around your waist, stroking gentle circles into the skin exposed to the room. It was silent, null except for the steady hum of the air conditioning and the gentle breathing of two humans reveling in each other’s presence.
“I miss it,” he said, suddenly speaking up. You lifted your head only slightly from his chest, already missing the sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. “Hockey. And I miss playing with my brothers.”
Brothers. Your heart broke at hearing the longing in his voice, because every single player on the team he played with was his family, in one way or another, and now he was being forced to watch them play the sport he had no chance of helping them win.
You couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain he was feeling.
“I know, Andrei,” was what you finally settled on. Your voice was soft, gentle, trying to convey your understanding with actions rather than words. You drew tiny circles on his chest, taking pride in the way goosebumps rose in your fingers’ wake. “I know.”
He tightened his grip on you, holding you closer to him as if he were afraid you’d disappear. “Will you be here?” he suddenly asked, frowning. Andrei knew he was being slightly irrational, feeling so vulnerable, but he really hadn’t felt secure in himself since first tearing his ACL.
What was his purpose in life, really, if not to play hockey and have you with him?
You hadn’t yet spoken, so he quickly clarified. “In the morning. And all the mornings after.”
A smile broke across your face as you buried your head into his chest. You felt the rumble of his chest as he chuckled, and then he shifted to where you were laying on top of his chest so he could see your face. “All the mornings, huh?” you asked, feeling bashful.
Andrei grinned, his tongue poking out from behind his teeth, knowing the effect he had on you. “Every one,” he replied. “If you will have me.”
“There’s nothing I want more.”
And you meant it, truly, with every fiber of your being. The next months were going to be rough, the ones where you’d have to be there for Andrei as he watched his team ultimately compete and fall through in the playoffs especially.
But you knew the two of you could do it. Andrei was nothing if not committed, even through all the arguments, tears, and emotional breakdowns, you were there for each other through the long haul.
And Andrei, meanwhile, after many difficult months down the road, had the biggest smile on his face as the doctors told him it was a miracle.
Because he had healed from his ACL injury in five.
fin
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A/N: Before my medical professionals come at me, YES I KNOW acl injuries take up to a year to recover from almost all of the time, but for the sake of this fic just pls ignore that little fact 😭 in all seriousness though, I can’t wait till our favorite Russian gets to play again bc I miss him sm. As always, please leave likes, reblogs, and comments. Ily all <33
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luv4fandoms · 1 year
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The Rut (Dwayne x Fem!Reader)
It is finally here! I was actually planning on writing Dwayne's chapter last but so many people wanted his chapter that I couldn't see putting it off lol, As I said before every boy will be getting his own part. (Also since I've been asked, this isn't really a poly relationship series, this is a "only (insert boy) likes reader" kinda thing).
So this series was inspired by @auntvamp 's headcannons about the boys in rut, and when I say that I couldn't help but write this after reading those lol. I'd highly suggest reading that first. I'd also like to thank her from the bottom of my heart for the help, I really wasn't sure how to write Dwayne, like all everyone says is that he is the strong silent type, but I was unsure of how he would be with a mate and she took time out of her day to message me and give me ideas for this chapter 😭 Thank you again for that!❤️
Lastly I'd like to thank @santacarlatourism for their headcanons of each boy's scent on my post
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Paul, Marko, David
Word count: 4,097
Pairing: Dwayne x Female Reader
Warnings: THIS STORY IS PURE SMUT!! THAT IS ALL IT IS!! MINORS DNI!!
⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️
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Ko-Fi
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"Just don't invite him in"
That's what David had told you when he informed you to stay away from the cave for the next couple of days. You were confused when David had met you at the entrance the night before, you were fully prepared to spend the night at the boardwalk with the boys and your favorite vampire, but David had quickly shot down those plans.
"Wait…A rut? Like how animals have ru-"
"Yes just like that" he told you as he walked you back to your car.
"You see when we go into these we are very dangerous to you, if you were a vampire you would be ok but since you're a human you're far more…"
"Fragile" you finished, the boys had all told you that before, taking it upon themselves to protect you all the time because you were "like a China doll" in Dwayne's words.
"So you understand why it's best if you just stay away for a couple of days" he explained, to which you could only simply nod as you climbed in your car. Your thoughts suddenly taking a turn as you thought of him…they were all extremely attractive…him especially…and you were sure him taking a partner for a quick time was something he had done before…would that happen again? After all, if he was gonna kill them anyways why not? It didn't matter if they were fragile right? But why did that thought make you wanna cry even more in this situation?
"It's not like that" David's voice broke you out of your thoughts and you were unsure if he had read your thoughts or could just read your emotions.
"Go home y/n, don't overthink, you can come back soon" he told you as he shut your car door, watching as you started the car and rolled down the window when he knocked
"And one more thing" he told you while leaning in.
"Just don't invite him in"
So here you were, sitting in your room, listening to music and drawing, wishing you could just go hang out with the boys, you hadn't really realized just how much of a staple in your life they had become until now. Night's seemed boring without them…without him. Sighing you sat your sketchbook down on your nightstand after you realized that in your zoned out state you had successfully sketched what was probably the twentieth picture of him that resided in the book. Stretching, you got up and changed the music, putting on your newest Jimi Hendrix album, you hadn't really listened to him much until Dwayne got you into him, he would always take you aside and let you just relax in his room when the boys got too rowdy, putting a record on and just letting you both drift off into the music. You felt your body sway as All along the watchtower came on, a favorite for both of you, but your body came to a halt when you heard knocking on your window, slowly turning, your breath and heart picking up as David's words rang in your head again.
"Just don't invite him in"
You knew it would be stupid to pretend to not be here, the music was loud enough to alert anyone, and he could, no doubt, smell you.
"You gonna open up Princess?" He asked, his voice calm but you could hear the darker tone and slight gravel, telling you that he was currently vamped out.
"Um…I'm not exactly supposed to" you told him after a moment, listening as a low growl filled the silence.
"I'm guessing David talked to you?"
"Yeah…He said he would be best if I just-"
"Nevermind what he said" he interrupted you, something you weren't used to from him.
"I can explain it all but you gotta let me in Princess" he spoke again after a moment. You knew you shouldn't, you knew you should listen to David and just tell him to leave, but you also knew that out of all of them you always felt the safest with Dwayne, and you believed that even in this state, he wouldn't put you in danger. You slowly made your way over to the window, pulling back the black out curtains and peering out onto the little balcony that was attached. Golden eyes met (e/c) and you quickly took note of him being completely bare on top, usually his jacket gave him some modesty, but tonight it was gone, something that was very unusual.
"Princess" he spoke in a sort of low sigh, like he was beyond relieved just to see you. You opened the window, leaning out to talk to him.
"Dwayne are you sure this is-" but you were quickly cut off by the feeling of his soft lips on yours, the kiss wasn't rough, but firm, like he couldn't release you even if he wanted to and honestly, you didn't want him to. His hands cupped your face, tongue slowly gliding along your lips before he parted them, fangs grazing the soft skin as he consumed your every sense. Your hands gripped his arms, trying to ground yourself but only losing yourself more, you knew Dwayne was fit but you had never gotten a good look, or feel, because of his jacket, but now his warmer than normal flesh under your palms had your mind reeling..As did the smells that seemed to make your head fuzzy, the scent of leather and motor oil that always clung to him, as well as the smell of the ocean air, and the natural musk that you could only describe as him, but now they seemed to be cranked up to a hundred, clouding your thoughts and filling them with him and only him. As if sensing that air was getting limited, you felt him pull away, your own lips chasing his, before you felt him rest his forehead against yours.
"Let me in Princess" he told you, voice deeper but still soft, though you noted the restraint in his tone.
"Dwayne I-"
"I'll explain everything" he told you and you took a moment to get your brain in order, though you found it incredibly difficult.
"Ok"
"I can come inside?" He asked, and you could feel the smile against your lips.
"You can come inside" you repeated, unknowing just how your words affected him.
"I'll remember that" he whispered against your lips, before you were suddenly in your room again, your feet no longer touching the ground as he carried you to your bed, laying you down on the mattress before quickly climbing over you. Your lips reconnected instantly and your hands began exploring his newly exposed skin. You felt his hand leave your face, running down your sides before coming up under your shirt, his other hand quickly joining it as he began lifting the material, only breaking the kiss to quickly remove the offending article before reconnecting his lips to yours. His hands quickly cupped your breasts, claws dragging over your soft skin while he listened to your heart rate pick up, the smell of your arousal becoming stronger and this time it was his head that was becoming fuzzy. His lips left yours, trailing down your neck to mark it, he would make sure that everyone on the boardwalk knew you were his, his human, his girl…His mate. The thought had him slowly grinding down, hips digging into yours as you felt him rubbing against where you needed him. The friction caused a gasp and moan to leave your lips, which you guessed turned him on more because he began to press down harder. You whimpered as his mouth latched onto your nipple, a sound that had him growling. Your hand tangling in his dark locks before gripping slightly, pulling gently, and causing him to reattach his lips to yours, his hands shooting down to quickly take off your bottoms.
"Dwayne" you whimpered, feeling him take off his own pants, full skin on skin contact making you both sigh. You felt his hand slide down your side, fingers ghosting along your thigh before moving up to press against you, you couldn't stop the moan even if you tried, the sudden contact on your heat had you squirming under him, a fact that had him smiling in the kiss. He gently ran his finger along your core, gathering the wetness before rubbing tight slow circles on your clit, making sure to be careful of his claws.
"Fuck" you panted, hips moving up to seek out more pleasure, and you heard him chuckle against your mouth.
"You like that?" He asked, other hand brushing your hair away from your face so he could look down at you, your flushed cheeks, your blown pupils, your chest rising and falling with your quickened breath and rapid heartbeat, you were like a goddess laid out before him, and the only thought that kept running through his head was simply.
'mine'
"Tell me what you want" he breathed against your neck before he returned to marking you, his hand never stopping its movement as you became wetter against his fingers.
"Shit…Dwayne" you whimpered, hands gripping his arms, nails slightly digging in as you rocked your hips in time with his fingers.
"You like this? Like me taking my time with you? Like me making sure you're soaking?" He asked, and honestly you swore you could have cum right there. You had never even thought of him being into dirty talk with as little as he spoke, but having that deep voice whisper such things right against your skin, you couldn't stop the moan even if you tried.
"Fuck…more…please" you begged, watching as he sat back on his knees, smiling down at you, all the while his hand never stopped.
"More? What do you want baby?" He asked, his other hand running along your stomach before coming up to cup your breast, lightly playing with your nipple, just enough to give you slight twinges of pleasure.
"You" you begged, hand grabbing his as you brought it up to your face, gently bringing his thumb into your mouth.
"You gonna take me?" He asked, his hand picking up speed and pressure, watching as your eyes rolled back, your whimper muffled by his finger.
"Gonna take everything I give you?" He added, his own mind starting to picture everything, and he could feel himself starting to lose control again.
"You're gonna know you're mine by the end of the night" he smiled, and watched as your legs locked up, trembling before a louder muffled moan tumbled from you, his hand becoming even wetter as he watched the pure ecstasy wash over you. He worked you through it, only stopping once you removed his finger from your mouth to whimper a please.
"Think you can give me another one Princess?" He asked, body hovering over yours as he kissed your chest, listening to your heart slow down a bit.
"Yes" you panted, hands coming up to cup his face and pull him in for a kiss, you felt his hands grab your thighs as he parted your lips with his, dominating the kiss while he slotted himself between your legs, wrapping them around his waist and slowly grinding into your heat, a feeling that had the both of you moaning.
"You want it?" He asked, looking down at you, golden gaze almost glowing as he watched you.
"Yes" you begged, hips lifting to meet his.
"Tell me" he moaned.
"Fuck I want all of you, please"
"All of me?"
"Yes"
"You'll take everything I give you?"
"Fuck yes!"
"You'll take every drop?" He asked, eyes never leaving yours, but you noted the yearning look in his gaze as he watched you, waiting for your answer.
"Every drop" you panted, listening as a low growl left him, and watching as he slowly dragged his length through your folds, coating himself. You hadn't given much thought to size, but now, looking down and watching him, you were starting to wonder if he would even fit. And as if reading your mind you heard him chuckle.
"I'll go slow" he told you, leaning back over you to capture your lips once more before warning you.
"I'm not sure if I'll be able to stop once I start though" you could only nod, the thought of Dwayne, cool, calm, and collected Dwayne completely losing control during sex made you wetter than you'd care to admit…Though he seemed to have known.
"You like that idea?" He chuckled, taking a deep breath before another low growl rumbled against your chest.
"You smell so fucking good when you get horny" he spoke against your skin.
"W-wait you can-"
"Everytime, everytime you came into the cave after reading one of your little private books," he started, and you felt the smile against your skin.
"Or when I pulled you away from Paul and sat you on my lap" he added, and you knew exactly what he was talking about. You and Paul had been jamming out, dancing like idiots to whatever rock song Paul had put on, you had started feeling a bit tired, and were just about to go sit down when suddenly Dwayne had pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you back against him. You had been so flustered and turned on by his strength and had hoped the guys would just read your flushed cheeks and rapid heartbeat as just from dancing…it seems you had been wrong.
"Last chance" he spoke again, pulling you out of your memory, your eyes meeting once more.
"Say no now and I'll leave" but that was the last thing you wanted, you wanted him, all of him, and whatever he would give you. So instead you tangled your hands in his hair and pulled him to you, lips crashing against his and that was the only sign he needed. His hand quickly lined himself up and without a second thought he was slowly sinking into you, groaning as your heat swallowed him. The pace he set was slow but firm, shallow thrusts, like he didn't want to leave your body for too long, and also to make sure he didn't hurt you, he knew he was a lot to handle, he would have to build up to that. Each thrust pulled a moan from you though, a sound he found himself drowning in.
"You like this?" He asked with a smirk as he watched you, your head thrown back and eyes closed, legs tight around his waist.
"Come on Princess, I know you can be louder than that" he groaned, watching as you reached down to grip his arm, your other hand going against the headboard to stop yourself from moving up the bed. He could feel himself getting lost in everything, the sound of your pounding heartbeat, a sound that had his inner beast clawing to get out, the feeling of your skin against his, your breasts pressed against his chest as he put more of his weight against you. The feeling of your heat pulling him in, surrounding him as you only continued to become wetter, which created a whole new sound that had him moaning against your neck. Your bed squeaking with every firm thrust and your moans now a constant, along with whimpers of his name. Your smell was making his head even fuzzier at this point, your natural scent cranked up as sweat began to coat your body from the heat.
"Gonna...Fuck...Gonna fill you up" you heard him groan, feeling him begin to push deeper with every thrust, your body welcoming him, especially when he started hitting that spot inside you.
"Gonna give you…Shit...every last drop" he panted against your skin, growling at the moan you released at the idea, he could smell it, how your body was waiting for what only he could give it.
"You want it?" He asked, listening as your moans pitched in tone, your heartbeat picking up even more, he knew you were getting close.
"Please" you begged, you knew you must have looked and sounded almost pathetic, but at that moment you didn't care, you didn't even know what he was asking, you just wanted anything and everything that he was willing to give you.
"Say you want it…Fuck…Say you'll take it" he groaned, fangs grazing your neck as he thrust forward, completely bottoming out, pulling another moan from the both of you.
"Shit…Say you'll be a good mate and take my child" he growled, and the realization of what he had been asking for hit you, a thought that probably should have made you take a moment, but instead had you locking your legs tighter around him, Fuck you really wanted to give him a child if you could, you had seen him with Laddie, you knew he would be a really good fucking dad. He lifted up, just enough to look you in the eyes, his gaze still a blazing gold but you could see the almost pleading behind the pure primal instinct. Without a second thought you buried your hand in his hair, pulling it as you brought his lips to yours for the third time that night, in a passionate kiss, only stopping to breathe against his lips.
"Put a baby in me"
You feared for a moment that it sounded too funny, your wording, or that he had changed his mind as you felt him slow down, the two of you just staring at one another.
"Say it again" he spoke slowly, sitting back on his knees to look down at you with a look you hadn't seen before, a look of a predator getting its prey exactly where it wanted it.
"Put a..baby in me?" You asked, your tone more a question as you watched a smile slowly spread across his face.
"Yeah?" He asked
"Yeah" you smiled, too distracted with his gaze to realize he was beginning to move again until he thrust forward, dragging another moan from your throat as your head tilted up, eyes rolling back. He didn't let your body move far though, hands holding your hips in a bruising grip, claws slightly breaking the skin and sending tiny shocks of pleasure through your system. His thrusts became quick but firm once more, though in the beginning they were shallow, not wanting to hurt you by having you take too much, now they were deep, his length never leaving your heat for too long as he worked you both towards your highs. The sound of skin on skin echoed in the room, your wetness and moans only adding to the lewd noises that were sending him towards his end. But it was the thought, the promise that had his own eyes rolling back, you were his mate and you were gonna give him something he had wanted for so long. Leaning forward again he kept himself up on one arm, his other still holding your hips.
"Fuck I'm close" he panted, feeling your legs bend higher against his hips, caressing his sides as you opened yourself more for him, drawing him in deeper, allowing him in closer to where he needed to be.
"Me too" you whimpered, nails dragging down his back as you held on.
"Cum for me Princess" he spoke, groaning when you pulled his hair, he could feel the coil in his stomach tightening with every thrust. You felt him bury his face against your neck, tongue dragging along the soft flesh as his hot breaths fanned it, lips caressing it, and fangs lightly dragging along it. You knew what he wanted, and honestly, you did too. Tilting your head to the side you pulled him closer by the hand that was still buried in his dark locks, pressing his face further against your neck and giving him the ok, a sign he only needed to be given once as you felt his fangs pierce the skin. The feeling wasn't uncomfortable, in fact it was the last push you needed to send you over the edge, your legs locking around his waist, one hand digging into his back while the other gripped his hair tighter, eyes closed as a loud moan of his name left you. For him it was much the same, as soon as your blood touched his tongue he was gone, hips speeding up before stuttering as he felt you lock your legs around him, his grip on your hip and sheets tightening while his mouth left your neck, head thrown back as a moan left him, blood covering his lips and chin while he continued to move, continued to to do as he promised and give you every last drop. You felt his hips begin to slow just as your eyes came back into focus, your mind becoming clearer as you came back down from your high. You looked up at him, watching as his eyes were still closed, mouth slightly ajar as quick pants left him, his hips gave small gentle thrusts as he refused to let even a drop leave your body. You watched as he blinked once, twice, before his head lowered, gaze meeting yours and you noted that his golden eyes had lost the red haze they seemed to have had before. You watched as a slow smile graced his face, hand coming down to cup your cheek before bringing your lips to his, the taste of blood on your tongue was a bit odd, but something you could get used to if it meant more kisses from him.
"Thank you" he breathed against your mouth, earning a giggle from you.
"You don't have to thank me Dwayne, I'm your mate after all right?" You smiled, watching as his gaze softened even more before he pressed a quick kiss to your lips.
"My mate"
"I honestly didn't expect you to come here" you spoke after a while, hand running through his hair as he now laid his head on your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat, but your words caused him to tilt his head up towards you, an unspoken question in his eyes.
"David said you all were going through a rut, and to stay away from you all because it was dangerous…even you have stated before how fragile I am" you told him, watching as he leaned up a bit, and whimpering as he shifted inside you, having never pulled out.
"You are," he teased.
"But I wouldn't go anywhere else" he added, making you give him a confused look.
"It's not all of us going through a rut, just me"
"What? Do you all do it at different times or?"
"No. We've only been told about this, but none of us have ever gone through it. We don't go through it unless we find our mate"
"...Wait…Your mate…so that wasn't just…sexy vampire talk?" You asked, a question that caused him to start laughing.
"You find me calling you my mate sexy?" He asked, grinning as he leaned down to kiss the bite mark he left, his hips moving to give a shallow thrust and you realized that he was hard once again.
"Maybe" you giggled.
"Our mates are like the vampire's version of soulmates" he explained, a warm feeling spreading through your body at the information.
"So…I'm your soulmate?" You couldn't help but ask, a dopey grin on your face as he unburied his and met your gaze.
"Yeah, you're my soulmate Princess" he smiled back.
"And with any luck," he spoke with a smirk after a moment, hips gently thrusting, creating a slow steady rhythm.
"We could definitely make sure that takes," you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leaned up on his arms, hovering over you to reach a better angle, one that had him once again hitting that spot inside you.
"Thank you" he told you again with a smile, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.
"You're gonna be an amazing dad" you told him once he pulled away, watching the pure joy spread across his face.
"You're gonna be an amazing mom Princess" he told you, kissing you again before leaning back to pick up his pace a bit.
"I think we can fit in a few more rounds before the rut is over" he chuckled, golden eyes seemingly glowing again as he looked down at you, and you realized you were in for a long night.
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So there it is ladies! I hope you enjoyed this one, like I said before Dwayne has been hard for me to write since I got into The Lost Boys lol
If you'd like to be added to the taglist for the David chapter just let me know.
Taglist
@its-monster-mash , @arenpath , @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx , @katpursley94-blog , @theamericanjewitch , @shewhomustnotbenamedsworld , @thelostone91 , @blazeflays , @ilikechocolatemilkh , @babyloutattoo89 , @bigcreatorwombatdreamer , @non-binary-disastrous-mess , @2525sc , @kitteebree , @besas-stuff , @justaspeachy , @faefairi3 , @its-freaking-bats , @santa-carla-boardwalk-1987 , @urmothersmistress , @misslavenderlady @heavenwoodcoco
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DAY 13 - «On Thin Ice» Good Omens AU - Triptych Tribute for @blairamok
Part 1/3: "Falling Angel" Aziraphale
Please, listen to this
Change everything you are
And everything you were
Your number has been called
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Fights and battles have begun
Revenge will surely come
Your hard times are ahead
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Don't let yourself down
Don't let yourself go
Your last chance has arrived
Best, you've got to be the best
You've got to change the world
And use this chance to be heard
Your time is now
Falling Angel, your time is now!
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(yes I know this Muse song has another sense in the On Thin Ice universe - for Crowley. Well, our Fallen Serpent will show us what IS a true Survival, tomorrow. ;-)
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Don't forget to 💕/ reblog ;-)
Personal challenge: a simple sketch each day
Goal: forcing me to keep things simple - inking, shading, just a few sashes of colour
Improvement pursued: to get the movement, the emotion, finding how to add depth, learning how to leave things barely finished
Max time allowed: 2 hours, as usual for my Daily Challenges. Well, this is a very special Tribute for me, and I was on a three-days break. So I didn’t really set a timer for the « On Thin Ice » sketches. Plus, I drew them quite in the same time and on the same file to be sure Crowley and Aziraphale would match. I guess I spent more or less 3 hours on the lineart for each one of them (the clothes and the figures needed a lot of time), plus 1h30-2h on the colouring/shading for each one.
Be aware that in my first sketches for this project, Crowley and Aziraphale were supposed to train on the same ice rink, and I dearly wanted Crowley to be watching Aziraphale, and Aziraphale was supposed to glance back to him. I had to give up on this idea later – because the figure I chose for Aziraphale definitely couldn’t allow such a shared glance. (but, hello, it will be a triptyque ! So, guess what? About the third part… :-p)
About Aziraphale, as my « Falling Angel ».
« On Thin Ice » author, @blairamok, describes the Hydroplane ice skating figure as very representative of Aziraphale, and the drawing reference pictures were numerous enough to get some solid inspiration. It’s a complex skating figure. I have watched some ice skating tutorials on YouTube – because I wanted the movement of the clothes and hair to be accurate and, if I understand everything properly, even a slight alteration in the position of the arms can make you fall. Such perfection ! That IS the right move for Aziraphale !
I told sooner on my Gymnast !AU challenge that I appreciated drawing Aziraphale with realistic curves more and more each day – even if it still triggers me sometimes about my own shaming roundnesses. I realised my way of doing art – and my mind too, maybe - was evolving when I got back to check references in the amazing Blair artworks (link AO3). A few months ago, I felt insecure watching Blair’s Aziraphale, which seemed to me too much plump and very soft – not a « good sportive look », I thought then. But now I like him more and more, so maybe my way of thinking is changing, and I think this is for the very best.
My Aziraphale is performing a difficult figure, so he is using all his muscles into maintaining his balance. He seems so statuesque, so powerful, yet very focused and oblivious to the world around him, with his eyes shut. That is why he couldn’t share a glance with my Crowley. T.T
.
Maybe this is my way to guess Aziraphale’s behavior in the so-awaited « On Thin Ice »  next chapters. Focused on his own training, trying to ignore Crowley’s sassyness but still secretly impressed by his partner’s skills. Because they share the same love for Ice Skating, even if they don’t show it in the same way.
Blair, if you ever read this, thank you. For your artworks, for making us dream about a wonderful story that still remains to be told.
Thank you for « On Thin Ice », for your so-kind message last week, and for everything else.
I have faith. I’ll wait for your story. But even if it doesn’t exist yet, I am already dreaming about it, and this is priceless.
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Don't forget to 💕/ reblog ;-)
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theemporium · 6 months
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how about 💰with famous!eddie? he could be a rockstar or maybe he’s made it big in the hockey world! whatever creative licenses you want to take is perfect!
maybe something with them having been apart for a little while and just wanting to spoil his girl now that he’s back? fancy dinner and nice music, some good old romance and fluff. <3
- 🦇
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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“Eddie, this is too much.”
“Nonsense.” 
“There aren’t even prices on the menu,” you murmured in a hushed voice as you leaned over the table, staring at him with wide eyes. The restaurant was dimly lit and intimate, and far fancier than you could ever imagine choosing—let alone affording. “The food is all written in French!”
“Calme-toi, mon amour,” Eddie grinned back at you, the French passing past his lips with ease. But you guessed after a world tour or two, it would make sense that he would pick up a few phrases in other languages here and there. “Just enjoy it.”
“Ordering a pizza would have been fine too,” you said to him, something in your stomach twisting at the idea that maybe he expected you to want this. 
“But then I wouldn’t get to see you in that killer dress, baby,” Eddie retorted. “And that would have been a tragedy.” 
Eddie Munson, a joker at heart even if his name was blasted over billboards and stadiums across the world.
Eddie Munson, your dinner date even when he had half the world throwing themselves at his feet of the most renowned rockstar in the music industry today.
He had just finished the North American stint of his tour and he had a gap between he headed down to South America and then Europe. And as much as he begged and pleaded, you couldn’t join him around the country which led to a very needy boy who was desperate to spend every possible moment with you. 
But the boy never did anything half-assed. He was never one to flaunt his money or throw it around, but when it came to you? The boy pulled all the stops. He dolled you up a new outfit he bought earlier that day, treated you with more gifts than you could count before dragging you to the fancy restaurant uptown that you couldn’t even afford to step foot in, let alone dine. 
But this was Eddie Munson and he wanted to give you the world.
“I would’ve worn it for you at home,” you told him, the words light-hearted but the truth still lacing your voice. “All you had to do was ask.”
His eyes darkened. “That is all I have to do?”
“If you asked nicely, I might’ve even let you pick what I wore underneath,” you teased as you reached for the glass of wine, taking a sip as your gaze caught his over the rim.
“Don’t do this, baby,” Eddie groaned, though there was a smile on his face. “You’re gonna make me ask for the bill before the starters come out.” 
You grinned. “Maybe that was a part of my plan.”
He raised his brows. “You have a plan?”
“A girl’s guide to seducing a rockstar,” you told with him a nod of your head. “So far, it’s been working out quite well. I might make the thing my autobiography.”
Eddie’s face broke out into a massive grin and it made your chest feel funny. “If you want a quote, I can happily tell you how effective methods have been.”
“I’ll be sure to mention it in a chapter if I have the space,” you retorted. 
Eddie couldn’t help himself as he reached over the table, taking one of your hands in his as he placed a chaste kiss on the back of your palm. “Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you?”
Your cheeks burned. “Eddie—”
“No, I mean it, baby,” he said, the sincerity of his emotions evident in his eyes. “All of it wouldn’t be worth it without you. The fame and the touring and the music—you keep me grounded. You make it easy.”
Your chest tightened as you squeezed his hand. “I wanna keep being that for you.” 
“Oh I’m not letting you go anytime soon,” Eddie said with a laugh, placing another kiss on your knuckles. “You’re my inspiration. Which artist gets rid of their muse?” 
“An artist that takes their muse to a restaurant where the bread rolls cost more than her rent,” you retorted playfully.
“Yeah, it’s a bit much,” Eddie laughed before giving you a look, a hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. “What do you say I pay the bill and we ditch this place? Get some pizza on the way back to eat so I can enjoy that dress of yours when we get home.”
“I’d say you’re gonna have to carry me because these heels are killing my feet.”
Eddie grinned. “Anything for my muse.”
.
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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months
Text
Chapter 8.5: 007- Peña, Agent Peña
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Summary: After Javi's surprise on the Peña ranch, you had already had the best night of your life. Little did you know, your night was just beginning.
Word Count: 4.9K (This is as short as it's ever gonna get, this is just who I am)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up), creampie, praise (oh boy, does Javi tell you what a good job you're doing), semi-public nudity?? (not really, but you'll see!!), mentions of eating/food, mentions of alcohol, mentions of loss of a parent, you and Javi being absolute goofballs and being lovesick idiots
A/N: SO. I finished Chapter 8 and went to go walk my dog, and the song "Would That I" by Hozier came on, and it 100% is the inspiration behind this mini chapter. I literally came up with the idea for this chapter and wrote it in less than 24 hours because Javi and Osita live in my head rent free at all times being the cutest two idiots to ever exist. Enjoy this fun lil bit, it's honestly probably my favorite thing that I've written for this series so far!!!
Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter
“I’m not sure if cold, post sex and first I love you’s is the way that your dad intended us to eat these enchiladas, but holy shit are they delicious.” You and Javi laughed, finishing the last bites of the enchiladas verdes Chucho had packed for the both of you. It probably would have made more sense to eat dinner almost an hour ago when Javi had first taken you out to watch the sunset in the back of his truck, but, no offense to Chucho’s enchiladas, having the most romantic sex of your life followed by Javi telling you that he loved you for the first time seemed to take higher priority to you. 
“These ones are actually pretty good, I will give him that. Thank God he’s finally starting to get better at cooking, a few months ago his food was practically inedible.” Javi shook his head, wiping his face with the back of his hand as gathered both of your cleared paper plates and forks, tossing them into the empty paper bag Chucho had sent them with. 
“Actually? I didn’t know he had come such a long way in his cooking career in such a short time.” You snickered, pulling some of the blankets laying at the edge of the truck bed over you as you scooted yourself closer to Javi, laying your head against his chest as you snuggled next to him. Pulling you closer, Javi wrapped his arm around you, fingers tracing gentle circles along the back of his sweatshirt you were now wearing. 
“Actually. He never cooked until my mom died. One day he called me while I was still in Colombia and told me he had found one of my mom’s recipe books and was gonna teach himself how to cook. When I came home, he insisted on making me dinner every night so he could show off whatever he was learning. I ate a lot of sandwiches after he fell asleep the first few months I was home.” 
“Well despite the terrible food you had to eat, that’s actually really sweet. Glad I came around when I did so I only have to reap the benefits of his good cooking and not suffer along with you.” You giggled as he squeezed you before giving you a playful shake wrapped in his arms. “Can you cook at all, or is this a warning that you’re gonna subject me to your awful cooking too?” 
“I can cook enough. Not a good cook by any means, but definitely not my Pops a few months ago. Can do more than Kraft Mac and Cheese, I’ll tell you that much.” He smirked, poking fun at the first meal you had made. You sat up, giving him the biggest stink face you could muster without bursting into laughter.
“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, don’t act like you wouldn’t have eaten an entire second pot if I hadn’t made one for you, Mr. Literally Will Literally Eat Anything Under The Sun In World Record Time.” 
“If I seem to remember correctly, you weren’t doing a lot of complaining after I ate, Osita.” He winked at you as you nudged your elbow into his side before he grabbed you, rolling you over and playfully wrestling you into the pile of pillows and blankets beneath you. “C’mere, Hermosa.” He wrapped his arms around you as you giggled and squirmed beneath him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grasp. You kicked your feet as he kissed at your neck, his mustache ticking you with each peck of his lips. Using all your might, you were able to roll over on top of him, straddling his lap as he lay on his back, breaking free of his grasp.
“Can’t get me that easy, Peña. Wrestling was the only way I got anything from my brothers for the first ten years of my life.” You smirked as you leaned down to kiss him as his fingertips gripped into your hips, pulling you further on to his lap. 
“Could think of worse ways to lose a wrestling match.” Javi’s face smug as he gestured to how you were sitting on top of him, letting out a quiet groan as you started to grind into his lap, feeling him already half hard beneath you. “Careful, Hermosa. Not gonna be so nice if you’re gonna try to play dirty.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to make the next move. 
Still bent over him, you kissed up his neck and jaw before nipping at his ear. “Last time I checked, you liked it when I played dirty.” Your whispers left jaw slack, pressing up into you, his dick already straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. 
“Fuck me.” He murmured under his breath as you began to grind harder into his crotch. “You wanna play dirty, baby? I can play fuckin’ dirty.” You could see the lust filled in the dark pool of his eyes, biting down on your lip, already feeling the slick pooling between your legs with each sway of your hips. “You already wet for me, baby?” 
This man read you like a book- like he had every fucking page memorized. “Mmmhhhmm.” You nodded, feeling how soaked the fabric of your sweatpants already was as you felt your clit rub deliciously against Javi’s dick, hard and heavy underneath you. 
“I know you are, dirty girl. Want me to touch you baby? Want me to make you come before I fuck that perfect pussy again?” You nodded again, frantically shaking your head yes at his filthy words as you worked yourself against his length. He laughed to himself, shaking his head as he watched how blissed out you already were rubbing against him. “Too bad.” 
You paused, shooting him a confused look. “What do you mean, too bad?” 
“You know exactly what I mean. You wanna play dirty, I will too. You wanna come? You get yourself off like this.” He gave you a subtle nod of his head, gesturing to how you were sitting on top of his lap. 
“Are you serious? Javi, c’mon, please.” You rolled your eyes at him as you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to play off how desperate you already were for him. 
“Rules are rules baby. Fight dirty, play dirty. C’mon pretty girl, I know how needy you are, how wet that pretty pussy is for me.” He mewled as he toyed with the waistband of your sweatpants, fingers brushing against your skin. He dug his fingers into your hips, slowly pushing them back and forth against his lap, encouraging you to pick back up your pace brushing up against his dick with every motion. “There you go, hermosa. That’s my girl. Just like that, baby.” He praised as you found yourself rubbing harder and harder against him, slick coating your thighs. With his length, it wasn’t hard to feel how big he was, making it easy to find a sweet spot that brushed up against your sensitive bundle of nerves as you rocked your hips back  and forth over him. 
“Javiiiii, fuck.” You whined, feeling the heat build at the base of your spine as your clit rubbed harder and harder on his covered cock. 
“That’s it, Osita. Doing so good for me, baby. God, you look so fucking pretty riding me like that, C’mon, I know you’re close sweetheart.” His praise had you climbing towards your high, each time you ground your hips into him had you closer and closer to coming undone. His name fell from your lips, moaning as he was gripping your hips again pushing you deeper into him. 
“Javi, I’m so close. Fuck, fuck fuckkkkkk.” You whimpered as you felt the euphoria rush through you, gushing, feeling your pussy throb from the intensity of your orgasm. You slumped into him, face falling on to his chest as you caught your breath. 
“Such a good girl, Osita. My good fucking girl. Did so good for me baby.” He whispered in your ear as hand his hands along your body, trembling at his touch. “Still want me to fuck you, dirty girl?” 
“Yes, holy shit, yes.” You moaned. “Please, I need you so bad Javi.” He helped you pull your sweatpants down, kicking them off your feet as you straddled back over Javi, sitting on top of his thighs. Slipping your fingers under his waistband, you pushed the pants down, revealing his dick, already red, precum leaking from its tip, leaving a stain on his sweatpants. You lifted yourself up, slowly sinking down on his length, each inch splitting you open with the sweetest stretch. Even without his fingers to warm you up, you were so wet that you took him easily, feeling yourself bottom out on his cock as Javi let out an audible groan. His hands reached around, giving you a light smack on your ass before his fingers kneaded into your flesh. You began to raise yourself up and down along his length, swirling your hips as your hands tugged at the hem of his sweatshirt that you were wearing, ready to take it off. His hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you before you could get any further. 
“Keep it on. Fuck, I love seeing you in my clothes.” He bit down on his lip as you nodded, rubbing your hands up and down his chest as you threw your head back, drunk on the way his dick felt hitting against that sweet spot inside you. The hair around his base rubbed against your clit, making you whine as you picked up your pace. “Jesus Hermosa, fuck me. Taking me so well. My sweet girl.” His voice was thick and raspy between his heavy breaths, his eyes glued on your every move as you rode him. 
Suddenly, you felt him shift. Sitting up with his back pushed up against the truck, he wrapped his arms around you pulling you in so you were chest to chest, foreheads pressed against each other. You could feel him thrust up into you, his cock punching that magical spot that made the heat at the base of your spine creep up your back. “Javi, fuck baby, you feel so good. Fuckkk.” You tugged at his thick curls, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the scent of his sweet and spicy cologne clinging to his sweatshirt. 
“I know, hermosa, I know. Fuck, you’re so wet and tight, baby. Gonna give me one more? Soak my dick before I fuck you full of me again?” You wrapped your legs around his waist, digging your fingers into his back as you felt yourself snap, screaming his name as pleasure ran through every inch of you. You could feel how tight you were clenching around his cock as you came, his thrusts pounding deeper and faster into you. It didn’t take long for him to meet his own end, only needing a few more pumps before you felt his seed spill into you, leaking down your thighs and into his lap as you slumped into each other. 
“Fuck, Osita.” He whispered between his labored breathing, lifting his head off your shoulder, smiling at your blissed out face. “Jesus, I fucking love you.” 
“I love you too, Jav. Super romantic with your dick still in me and your cum dripping down my legs.” You giggled, still sitting in his lap. 
“It’s fucking hot, is what it is. Fuck me, you’re so sexy. What the fuck did I ever do to deserve such a beautiful woman who fucking loves me like you?” 
“God, you’re so sweet. Get your dick out of me before I start crying again, you menace.” You both laughed as you shifted off of him, grimacing at the mess you had left behind in Javi’s lap. “Do you have any towels, or leftover napkins? Sorry, I made a fucking mess. So much for those showers before we left.” 
Javi paused for a moment before a sly grin crept across his face. “Ostia, can you swim?
You raised an eyebrow at him, very confused by his question, considering you were surrounded by a gigantic, grassy field. “What? Yes, of course I can swim? Why are you asking me that? How is knowing if I can swim helpful right now?”  
His smile turned giddy, smirking at you as he shimmied his sweatpants back over his legs. “C’mon, get in the truck.” He slid himself off the back of the truck bed, standing up and outstretching his hand toward you. You quickly pulled your sweatpants back on too, following behind him as he helped you out of the truck and picked you up to put you in the passenger seat. 
“Javi, what the hell are we doing? Are you gonna go throw me in a trough or something? Listen, I love those cows, but I am not gonna be happy if you toss me into a bucket full of dirty cow spit water.” You crossed your arms at him, waiting for a response. 
“You’ll see.” He winked at you before shutting your door, hopping over to the driver’s side and starting up the car. 
“You’re lucky I love you.” You grumbled, still crossing his arms at him. He reached over the center console, giving you a quick kiss before pulling away and shifting the truck into drive. 
“I’m a very lucky man, indeed.” You finally shifted out of your playfully grumpy demeanor, melting as Javi stared at you, his sweet, puppy dog eyes making your heart explode every time they landed on you. You turned up the radio as Javi pulled away, heading the opposite direction that you came from, his headlights shining on a thick patch of trees at the end of one of the pastures. Driving a little deeper into the wooded area, Javi put the car in park, leaving you even more confused than when you left. He smiled at you as he shut off the ignition, hopping out the door before coming around to your side, helping you out of the car. 
“God, I thought driving me out to the middle of the field was bad, but taking me out into the woods in the pitch black? You really never are beating these serial killer allegations, I’m afraid.” 
“You’re the worst, do you know that?” Javi shook his head as he grabbed your hand, pulling you along with him as he began to walk through the trees. 
“I’m just saying! Listen, if you really wanted- Hey! Hey! Put me down!” You squealed as Javi picked you up, flinging you over his shoulder as you pounded your fists against his back, kicking and giggling with each step he took. God, was he strong. He carried you like it was nothing, laughing to himself as he watched you try to wriggle your way out of his fireman hold. Letting out a huff of defeat, you slumped further into him, staring at the ground as he took each step. 
“At least I have a good view of your ass from here.” You snickered as he continued walking. 
“You really like my butt, don’t you?” He laughed, rustling you in his grasp, still flung over his shoulder. 
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you are built like a God, Javier Peña. You’re very much proving your point right now carrying my fat ass through the woods.” 
He stopped, setting you down so you were facing towards him, placing his strong hand under your chin before tilting it up towards him. You gazed up at him, a surprisingly serious look spread across his face. “Hey. I love your ass. I love your body. Every curve, every single bit of you. Okay?”  
“Okay.” You softly replied, pulling you in tighter as he kissed the top of your head. “So are you gonna tell me where the hell we’re going, or are you just gonna keep carrying me through the woods?” 
“Turn around.” He nodded his head, gesturing behind you. As you spun around, you saw the moonlight sparkle off ripples of the pond in front of you. Rocks and tall grass surrounded the edges, water from a small stream flowing from behind the reeds into the pond. An old, worn wooden dock sat at the end, hovering over the first few feet out into the water. You turned back around to look at Javi, now smirking at your pleasant surprise with his most recent mystery. “I was out here every day as a kid in the summer. Nothing much, but it was deep enough to swim in. Haven’t been back here since high school, probably.”
“Is this where you’d take all the ladies to woo them with your swimming skills?” You joked, giving Javi a nudge as he stared around the pond. 
“No.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Just me and my friends, sometimes my cousins when they came over, if I was lucky.” 
“Well, I feel very honored to be the first lucky woman to get to see this secret pond.” You replied, slipping your sweatpants off your waist, leaving your bottom half exposed. Javi’s jaw dropped for the second time today watching you strip yourself of your clothes. “What?” You looked at him as your sweatshirt came next, dropping in a pile next to your pants, leaving you fully naked in front of him. “Aren’t we getting in?” You tilted your head at the pond, smirking at Javi who was now speechless. 
“You sure?” He said, gulping as he looked you up and down, your soft skin glowing in the moonlight. 
“Would I be standing here naked if I wasn’t?” You shrugged your shoulders as you raised an eyebrow at him. “You gonna swim in your sweats or am I gonna keep standing here like a naked idiot waiting for you?” Before you could say anything else, Javi’s clothes were on the ground next to yours, leaving you both bare, hidden amongst the secluded trees. This time, you grabbed his hand, running as you pulled him to the end of the dock, abruptly pausing as you got to the edge. “Are there like, weird things in here? It’s deep enough to jump in, right?” 
“Hermosa, just get in, you’re fine.” 
“Okay, but like-” 
“Osita, get in or I’m gonna push you in.”  
“You wouldn’t dare.” 
“You know I fucking will.” 
“Ugh okay, okay! Just promise me-” 
“1…” 
“Javi, wait-” 
“2…” 
“I’m being serious, don’t you do it! Javier Jesús Peña, I swear to God-” 
“3!” 
Before you could finish, Javi had his arms wrapped around your waist, swinging you back and forth, throwing you over the edge of the dock, limbs flailing as you splashed into the water. You peeked your head up, running your hands over your face as you watched Javi laughing hysterically. You flung your hand against the water, trying your best to splash him as he still stood at the edge thoroughly amused with himself. 
“I hate you, I hope you know that.” You grumbled, splashing him again. “Hey, wait, where are you going?” You shouted as you watched Javi turn around, making his way off the dock. It wasn’t long before you regretted asking the question, as Javi quickly turned around, getting a running start as he launched himself off the edge, drenching you as he drove into the water, making waves that splashed against you upon his entrance. You swam there for a moment, waiting for his head to pop up somewhere next to you, when suddenly, you felt something wrap around your ankle, making you absolutely screech at the top of your lungs. You swam as fast as you could back to the edge of the dock, clinging to the edge as you heard more hysterical laughter behind you, turning around to see Javi cackling to himself as you panted breathlessly, waiting for your heart rate to return to a semi-normal pace. 
“Holy shit, I didn’t think I was gonna scare you that bad, Osita.” He came down from his laughter, looking over at you hanging from the wooden planks still trying to catch your breath. “I’m sorry, baby. Are you okay?” He swam closer to you, now seeming like he felt a little remorse for what he had done. 
You took a few more deep breaths before letting go of the dock, looking back at him. Now only an arms’ length away from you, you swam full force towards Javi, wrapping your body around his, trying to wrestle him in the water. “You are an absolute jerk, you know that?” You grunted between your giggles as Javi grabbed you back, spinning you as you thrashed in the water, splashing it in his face before he grabbed your face to kiss him. Your legs locked around Javi’s hips, arms wrapping around his neck as his slipped behind your back, pulling you closer, feeling weightless in the water. He drew away for a moment, taking one of his hands to caress your face, rubbing his thumb along your jaw. 
“I forgive you, I guess.” You smiled as you sat there for a moment, taking in every detail of his face. His messy wet hair, his chocolate brown eyes, the way his mustache shifted above his lips as he smiled, everything about him that made you love him even more than you thought you already could. The way he looked back at you made you feel like there wasn’t anyone else in the world who could ever love you more. 
“God, you’re so beautiful. I love you, Osita.” 
“I love you too, Javi.” 
He brought you in closer, placing another gentle kiss on your lips. He pulled away again, this time with a look of panic washing over his face.
“What? Are you okay?” 
 “Was that your foot?” 
“My feet are wrapped around your waist?” You looked at him curiously. 
Trying his best to keep calm, Javi swam you both closer and closer to the shore, still carrying you with him as you stepped back on to land. This time, it was your turn to laugh at him, suddenly realizing why he had gotten out so quickly. “Not big and brave now, huh?” 
“At least I didn’t scream like you.” 
“Oh shut up.” You giggled as he set you back down, now sopping wet and shivering next to your pile of clothes. “Any way to explain to your dad why the hell we’re both coming back soaking wet?” You grimaced as you started to pull your sweatshirt over your wet body.
“We’re not.” His face smug as he followed suit opting to only put on his sweatpants, leaving him shirtless as you both headed back through the trees. 
“So…. What? You’re just gonna ask your dad to close his eyes and ignore us when we come back inside?” You raised an eyebrow in confusion looking up at Javi as he reached down to grab your hand as you walked. 
“No. To be honest, Pops is probably already passed out in front of the TV, but of course, you can’t walk through the front door without going past him. We’ll just sneak in through my bedroom window and he’ll be none the wiser.” 
You stopped for a second before laughing at him, continuing to walk as you shook your head. “Sneak in? What are we, 16? I know you said you’ve never brought any girls down here before, but I have a very hard time believing this is the first time you’ve snuck a girl into your room, Javier Peña.” 
“Only a few times.” He looked down at the ground sheepishly as you squeezed his hand. 
“I’m just giving you a hard time, Jav. Wouldn’t be my first time sneaking in either.” You admitted, your cheeks turning slightly red at your admission. 
“Really?” He perked up. “You don’t strike me as the type, but do tell.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“You just seem like such a rule follower, maybe it’s the teacher in you.” He shrugged as you rolled your eyes. “What’d ya do?” 
“Fair, I guess. I was 17. One of my friends was having a party at her parents house while they were on vacation, and being the rule follower that I am, I asked my parents and they said no. I was so mad because it felt like they always let my brothers go out and have fun and I never got to. So, once everyone was asleep, I snuck out, rode my bike all the way to my friends house, got drunk out of my mind, which is part of the reason why I can never drink vodka again, and by some miracle, was able to ride my bike back home. When I came in through the side door of the garage, my brother David was in there, already waiting for me. He told me that he could hear me singing at the top of my lungs halfway down the block. He took pity on me and helped my drunk ass up to bed and never told my parents. He’s always been my favorite brother. Then, I pretended to have the stomach flu for the next 3 days to cover up for my hangover.” You both laughed as you finished your walk up to the truck, Javi opening the passenger door for you as you stepped in. 
“No vodka, duly noted. You trying to tell me your singing gets even more obnoxious when you’re drunk?” He smiled as you buckled yourself in. 
“You love my singing, don’t lie. But um… maybe… Just a little. You’ll just have to deal with my sober serenading for now, sorry.” You smirked at him as you shrugged your shoulders, Javi laughing to himself as he shut the door behind you. 
……….. 
As promised, you spent the rest of the ride to the ranch windows down, blaring “Go Your Own Way” from Fleetwood Mac, noting that even though Javi had put on the album not long ago, you were a bit distracted to actually listen to any of the songs. If it was anyone else, Javi would have rather been caught dead than singing along to anything, regardless of song, album or artist. But lucky for him, you weren’t just anyone. You were his everything. Javi was sad when you’re singing came to an end, lowering the music as you pulled up to the house, trying to remain as quiet as possible to not wake up his dad. 
“Too bad you don’t have the James Bond soundtrack in your car, I feel like we’re on some sort of secret mission right now.” You whispered, trying to close the truck door behind you as quietly as possible. 
“C’mon, you dork.” He replied, taking you by the hand and leading you around the edge of his house. You both tiptoed along the wood siding of the house, Javi leading you before stopping under one of the windows, slightly cracked open, pushing out of its frame. “Alright, if I lift you up, can you push it the rest of the way open and climb in?” 
“Sure thing, Agent Peña. What number do you want to be, since you clearly can’t be 007, that one’s already taken. I don’t think they’ll let you be the next James Bond with that ‘stache.” You mumbled, stepping in front of Javi as he got ready to lift you up. 
“Will you just get in the window, please?” He scoffed, squeezing his hands on your hips, getting ready to hoist you. 
“Fine, fine, just say you wanna be lame and move on. I’m ready.” As Javi shot you up, your fingers wrapped around the edge of the windowsill, humming to yourself as you shimmied yourself in. 
“Bada boommmm, bada booommmmm, bahnanah.”  
“Are you seriously singing the James Bond theme song right now?” Javi looked up at the window as you pushed open the rest of the pane, now looking down at him. 
“Yeah, at least one of us should have a little fun with this. You need my help getting in?” 
He hadn’t even answered your question before he was already halfway through the window, pulling himself through and landing on the floor.  
“Showoff.” You grumbled to yourself as he closed the window behind him. Wet and uncomfortable in your clothes, you stripped them off of you, drying yourself off from the towel you had left on Javi’s bed from your shower earlier. Javi did the same, shedding his sweatpants and throwing them next to yours before you both crawled under the covers, curling into each other. You pulled the comforter up over you, nestling against the warmth of Javi’s body. Laying your head on Javi’s chest, Javi ran his fingers through the ends of your hair, still damp from your swim. It wasn’t until you hit the bed that you realized just how exhausted you were, barely keeping your eyes open, your eyelids heavy with sleep.
“Javi?” You asked, looking up at him, your voice low and soft, letting out a quiet yawn. 
“Yes, Osita?” He peered down at you, fingers still twisting through your locks. 
“You really love me?” 
He chuckled warmly, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. “I really do. Con todo mí corazón. (With all my heart.) Get some sleep, Hermosa, I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 
He paused, waiting for you to respond. 
“Hermosa?”  
The only thing he heard after that were your sweet snores humming against his chest, you already sound asleep in his arms. He gave you one more kiss on the head before pulling you closer, shutting his eyes as he whispered one last goodnight.  “Buenas noches, Osita. Soy un hombre afortunado. Tienes todo mí corazón para siempre. Te amo.” (Good night, Osita. I’m a lucky man. You have all of my heart, forever. I love you.)
..........
Taglist:
@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed
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staytinyville · 17 days
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Stay Alive (43)
BTS poly!ot7 x Reader
Magical Creatures AU
Series Masterlist
Warnings: none
A/N NOT BETA. I am back to writing! I was immensely inspired to go back to finishing this story. I am honestly so close you have no idea. There were only like six chapters left but I really said *haitus*. But no more! Also I got the idea to write an ATEEZ story within this world that is going to be a bit darker tbh. Short fic though. Also This story will be cross-posted to my wattpad so be on the lookout on my tumblr for the link. I have yet to put it up but I will!
Also check out this poll to find out who will be the papas of these 5 babies! Stay Alive Father poll
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You didn’t really take into account the way all of the boys would act the moment Hobi told them about what his sister had discovered. You knew they would be shocked–anyone would be the moment someone told them that in the future you were going to have 5 children. Honestly though, you didn’t think they would be more in shock than you were. 
“Did she really say 5!? Can jagiya even handle that many?” Taehyung looked at the others with an open mouth, holding Yeontan closely to his chest. 
“Taehyung.” The familiar scolded lightly, acting like a parent who was trying to keep their child from saying anything that came to mind. 
All 8 of you were making your way through the Big Hit building for a meeting with Bang Nim, now that all the boys got to spend time with their families. While they were scared of letting their boys go again, they all knew that there was a mission to complete and others to bring home. It was something they all discussed with their families–all of who understood the boys reasoning for going back. 
“One is going to be mine.” Jin spoke, raising his chin up.
“Ya! How do you know!?” Jungkook gasped, whining over Jin’s statement. 
“As the oldest I deserve—”
“You get nothing!” Jimin pouted at Jin’s reasoning, getting the younger boys to agree with him.
A grin overtook your face as you watched them bicker with the oldest of the group. Yoongi and Hobi laughed at the boys, putting in their own opinions on the matter about how it was going to be one of them who would father a child. 
It was Namjoon who had butted in to calm down all the others. “She's been with all of us–it could be any of ours.”
“Can she even have our kids? She is human.” Yoongi asked, leaving the question to burn on everyone’s mind. 
This started to raise questions within you. It didn’t really cross your mind that the possibility of something happening during the pregnancy would cause problems. You weren’t terrified of the outcome–you knew if things were to go wrong this world had the needed tools and power to help you through it all. But that didn’t mean you still didn’t want to question the idea of it all. 
“Will it affect me? That you guys aren't human?” You asked. 
“I do not believe so.” Hobi answered. “Interracial—or inter-magical— couples are common in our world. However there is no such thing as mixed creatures. It's the mothers genes the baby is born with.” He explained to you.
“They are the ones who carry the baby so naturally it's their genes that get infused into the babies DNA. For example, Jungkook's mother is a wolf but his father is kumiho.” Namjoon continued. 
You turned to the mentioned boy, smiling softly at the aspect of him having fox ears on his head like how Soobin had. 
“They aren't really that different.” You said. 
“They aren't but because eomma was a wolf, I can shift.” Jungkook smiled at you. 
“My parents are full elfs because they are the king and queen. They have rules to follow.” Jin started. 
“Same with mine.” Jimin put in. “There aren't many creatures that come from the water who have the ability to shift into a human, so sirens don’t often intermix.”
“So will our children be human?” You asked. 
“There aren't really many studies on human and creature children. However, for us, I think it would be our genes. Because our magic is much more overpowering than your human nature.” Namjoon said. 
You could understand the logic behind that kind of thinking. You were sure there wasn’t much research on magical creatures having children with humans unless you want to count all those mythological stories about gods having demi children. But even in those kinds of cases they tended to show genes from their godly parents. 
It must have been the same in this case. You just hoped nothing happened to both you and the boys if you were to carry their magical babies. 
“Super sperm.” You snorted. 
“Tokki.” Jungkook scolded playfully. 
As you finally reached your designated meeting place, you noticed your grandfather waiting for you all at the door. You immediately perked up, rushing forward to greet him with a hug. 
“Grandpa.” You smiled, rubbing his back and he gave you a quick hug. 
“How was your trip?” He asked you, looking over all the boys who gleamed with smiles on their faces. 
“It was amazing. Everything here is so beautiful. And it's exactly like back home.” You told him. 
“Magic has that effect.” The old man grinned. 
“Come—I think there are things we need to go over.” He suddenly sighed, giving the boys all a nod of his head as he led all of you into the meeting room. 
“Ah!” Bang Nim clapped, coming to stand from his chair. 
There were a few other people in the room including Sejin who gave a bow of his head. 
“It's good to see you all. You look so much more lively than when you came on the first day.” Bang grinned, patting Jungkook on the back as he was closer. 
“We are happy to be back home.” Namjoon spoke up. “Especially with our mate.”
“You have them wrapped around your pinkie.” Bang laughed, giving you a hug which you returned. 
As he pulled back, his face suddenly took a somber look. His lips were pursed as he started to speak in a serious tone. “I have discussed some things with your grandfather and we have decided it's best to tell you all the truth.” 
“What truth?” Jin asked. 
“The reason I put a spell on (Y/N)—and why you were all kidnapped.” Bang spoke slowly. 
“What?” You said out loud, looking over at your grandfather.
“As much as I know you'll blame yourself for everything just know it was all in the past and it has led us here. To the boys finding you and bringing you back here.” Bang suddenly started.
He turned to your grandfather, allowing him the room to speak. “(G/N).”
The old man took in a deep sigh before looking at you directly. “When you were a little girl you would always go out and explore the mountains near our home.”
“Yes, I remember that.” You interrupted. 
“You had a friend who was your age.” He took a pause, swallowing thickly as he thought about what to say. “A little girl who had been our neighbor for the longest time. Her name was Nabi.”
Yoongi looked over at Hoseok when he heard the name, raising his eyebrows at the boy. 
“That's the name she kept saying.” Hobi spoke up, looking at Yoongi who nodded as he remembered the time in the hospital room.
The name kept repeating over and over in your head, but you started to feel frustrated as you couldn’t remember the girl who your grandfather claimed was a close friend of yours. You could remember all of your elementary school friends–even the ones from kinder. But the girl who was named Nabi did not make an appearance. 
“I—I don't remember her though.” Your lips trembled, trying hard to find an answer but you couldn’t.
“Because I erased her memory.” Bang answered for your grandfather. 
“Was she from our world?” Yoongi asked.
“No.” Bang told him. “She was human, like (Y/N). It was you and her who found the portal to our world. The ones who were found by Hanseol.”
“Hanseol?” Jin questioned. 
“When you and Nabi crossed over Hanseol was the one to discover you both.” Bang turned to you. “You don't remember it because I had erased that memory as well. 
Bang suddenly took a pause, sighing as he felt his next words heavy on his tongue. “Hanseol, he—he was experimenting on you and Nabi by the time I reached you both. It was too late though.”
“Too late? Too late for what?” You quickly asked, head snapping between your grandfather and Bang Nim. 
“Nabi—She didn't make it. Hanseol had done too much to her.” Bang quietly answered. 
It was the revelation that left not only you stunned but the other boys as well. Hoseok looked over at Yoongi again, his breath turning shallow as he realized what his sister was talking about. Yoongi had been the only to know about Nabi because of Hobi and now finding out that she had died in his world no less, made him worried about you. 
“Then what about me!? How come I survived? Why didn't she?” You shouted. 
“You were barely holding on. There was a lot my people had to do to save you.” Bang didn’t seem phased by your shouting but he still spoke softly to you. 
“And my memory? Why take it?” Tears started to fall from your eyes, causing Taehyung to pull you into his arms, nudging his head into your neck. 
“I told him to.”
You whipped your head over to your grandfather, sniffling at his words. “Why would you do that?”
“You were a child (Y/N). On the verge of dying because some magical creature had been experimenting on you. That poor girl was already gone. I couldn't lose you.” Your grandfather had tears welling in his eyes as he remembered how you looked the day he had found you. 
You tried to stop your crying, realizing that things must have been tough for your grandparents at the time. You felt hurt that they never thought to tell you about something like that but you figured they didn’t want to worry you. You knew that whatever it was that man had done to you things were not going to be easy to swallow. 
“If you saved (Y/N) then how did Hanseol cross to her world?” Namjoon changed the subject. 
“He found out about the portal. We weren't able to catch him at that time so he got away.” Bang answered.
If Hanseol was the one to have found you and Nabi that must have meant it was your fault he found the portal to begin with. 
“It was my fault he took the boys and everyone else?” Your nose twitched again, more tears wanting to fall. 
“No.” Bang immediately tried to soothe you. “It wasn't. You weren't the one who told him to do it.”
“But I was the one who discovered the portal.” You stressed. 
“Beloved, please don't think that.” Jin smoothed his fingers through your hair. 
“We could never blame you for anything like that, Princess.” Yoongi calmly told you. 
“You were the one who came to save us.” Hobi moved to face you, standing in front. 
“It was no coincidence that you did. Someone was out there helping you find Bangtan.” Bang suddenly spoke after hearing what Hobi said. 
“Who?” You asked.
“Nabi.” Hobi spoke up after a pause, figuring it all out. 
“Nabi?” Jimin raised a brow.
“Jiwoo said there was someone following you around. I was never able to fully use that ability because of my studies being cut off but she was obviously.” Hoseok told you, reminding you about what his sister had told you. 
“Nabi is still attached to your soul because of the magic that was in our world.” Hobi began to explain. “The souls of our dead need to have proper rituals or else they will be stuck here. Nabi didn't get that here so she's been with you the whole time.”
“You think she was the one who sent (Y/N) to us?” Jungkook asked quietly, reaching a hand out to you.
“She could have been.” Bang answered. 
“You have us all here now.” Namjoon told you. 
He turned to Bang Nim with a determined look. “What will we have to do to save everyone?”
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Series Masterlist
@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkund, @rln-byg , @singukieee ,  @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @juju-227592 , @alienchickenpoop , @dreamerwasfound , @afangirl91 , @psiphidragon , @puppyminnnie , @shyloh-the-cornsnake , @ollyoxenfrees , @whynotlarene , @beeltsumu , @cryingpages , @milopenne , @belikejk , @thatonedemigodfromseoul , @woozixo,
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katewritesthings · 4 months
Text
Love Me Like I Can // Chapter 1
Chapter 1 // Vibe
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pairing: Joe Burrow x Singer! Original Female Character
•summary: Inspired by Scandoval and Taylor/Travis. R&B singer Diana Hayes navigates falling in love after a cheating scandal captures the attention of America and a certain Bengal.
•warnings: ��warnings: Cursing. Cheating. Sexual Situations. Drinking. Drug use. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
January 21, 2024.
Diana was currently sitting cross-legged in Biz’s room, computer in her lap, sharing a bottle of wine with her sister. Open on the screen was the Spotify app, with Diana’s first album Get Out pulled. Avoiding the writing she was supposed to be doing, the singer was instead focusing on watching her sister unpack her new room. The activity was a welcome distraction from the feelings that usually came with writing.
The past three weeks had been hectic for the sisters to say the least. Diana had finished up all of her press obligations for Band Together and the release of her EP in the first two weeks of January and spent the past week moving her things into her new rental in New York from Boston. They had two and a half weeks before Diana’s schedule would be filled with writing and recording for her upcoming album and tour. She had thought stepping foot into the house she shared with Connor would make her miss him, but in reality, it just made her angry and sad that every memory she had of Boston was tied to him.
“So, what are you doing again?” Biz questioned, passing the bottle and continuing to hang her sweaters. 
“I’m making a public playlist with some of my songs and some songs by other people who have summed my feelings up more eloquently than I could have,” Diana explained, adding the title song to the playlist. Leave (Get Out) applied to her current situation way than she could have ever thought when she recorded it at 14. She moved on to her second album, eyes scanning the titles.
“No, I know what you’re doing. I guess I should have asked why you’re doing this instead of… yknow, writing and preparing for the songwriting session you have coming up. You record at the beginning of March, you’ve got to have material.”
“I think I’m still more hung up on the situation than I want to be and people to know about. Like, I don’t know what combination of emotions I’m experiencing, but I’m stuck,” Diana admitted, twisting her long hair into a top knot and adding two songs, “The High Road” and “Too Little Too Late” from her second album. “Like, can I write about the situation and still be angry? Can I use the songs I wrote about Connor? I definitely don’t want people to think I’m still hung up on him. I’m really just hurt by the betrayal of it all.”
“Well, I think you’re allowed to still be heartbroken about it still, Di. It’s been three months.” Biz had made her way to Diana to hand her the wine and wrap her into a hug. “This is the first downtime you’ve had since then, you’re allowed to be sad and people will be fine with that. We’re going to get drunk tonight and have fun. If you write, you write. No pressure on healing, okay?” 
Diana stared at her sister’s little finger before her own laced around it and she uttered, “Promise.” 
“Now, turn on some music, and let’s go do a shot!”
Biz indicated to follow her, so Diana did as she was told. Half an hour later, the two were sitting on the couch in their living room laptop between them, taking their second shot of tequila. Diana would be lying if she said she didn’t feel the first and the large glass of Sauvignon Blanc she had been sipping from. 
“Have you texted Joe yet?” Biz’s voice chimed, clearly trying to brighten the mood. Unfortunately for Diana, the alcohol intensified the feelings of rejection as her face settled into a deep frown and a lump formed in her throat.
“No.. uhm, his agent never got back to Cathy, so I never got his number…” She cleared her throat and gave a nervous laugh. “Which is totally fine or whatever because I almost even forgot his name.” Biz rolled her eyes, “Right,” she muttered as she took a drink of her own cocktail. She knew her sister spent at least two days googling the handsome quarterback. “Have you reached out on social media?”
“I don’t want to look desperate, Biz! I don’t even know if I’m ready for another relationship. He’s just cute and looked fun, that’s all.” Diana was still nervous about the idea of jumping into something so soon. She and Connor had been together since she was 19 and while he wasn’t her first relationship, she thought at one point he was going to be her last. The idea of starting over at 26 was scary.
“I think we should invite him and some friends to your birthday party,” Biz interrupted her self-doubt spiral to propose the wildest idea Diana had heard yet. 
“Biz, he won’t even give me his number. How would I even do that?,” Diana shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “His friends were probably just making fun of him because he likes my music.” “I wish you would stop fucking doubting yourself, Di. You’re hot as fuck and dude probably too scared to text you. You build everybody up but yourself. I wish you would give yourself half the love and grace you give other people.” Biz’s words must have sparked inspiration because Diana grabbed her laptop and paused the music. Opening a word document she began typing and humming to a beat. 
Lover girl, loving everything but herself.
Pedestals for everyone, but she’s on a shelf.Emotion comatose, you know how that shit goes.
The sisters spent the next forty minutes sending ideas back and forth to each other, opening another bottle of wine, and listening to Diana sing their ideas into the room. They had finished one song and had even been in good enough spirits to finish a song Diana had been working on before her breakup. Giggling with her sister would never get old, Diana was certain. Everything she had been through in the past three months just made her realize how grateful she was that she had her sister. When their dad died, Diana had attempted to shut everyone from her family out of her life and she was just glad Biz was too stubborn to let that happen. 
Just as the thought that Biz’s stubbornness was a positive trait crossed Diana’s mind, she looked up to see her phone in her sister’s hand and hear a “It isn’t what it looks like,” fall out of her mouth.
“Well, then what is it? Because it sure as hell looks like you’re going through my phone,” Diana shrieked, weakly reaching for the iPhone.
“I just texted Cathy to invite some of the Bengals to your party! You’re already going to be meeting Taylor’s boyfriend, might as well make it an AFC reunion,” Biz said excitedly, knowing it was too late for the text to be unsent.
Diana wanted to be angry at her sister, but she couldn’t help but feel the excitement bubbling in her stomach. 
-------------------
February 3, 2024
Diana hadn’t celebrated a birthday since her 20th and she was nervous. Biz and her manager Cathy, had insisted on throwing her a huge birthday party to make up for the ones that she missed celebrating. Connor had always insisted that celebrating birthdays was narcissistic, refusing even to get her a present in the seven years they were together. 
The redhead was currently sitting in the back of a blacked-out Suburban, between Biz and Taylor Swift. In the third row sat Travis and Austin, Taylor’s brother,  quietly chatting about something that Di couldn’t make out. 
“Thank you again for this, Taylor,” Diana sighed, trying to regulate her breathing. “There is no need to thank me! Everyone needs a friend, Diana. Just because you’ve had some pretty shitty ones in the past doesn’t mean we can’t show you what they’re really supposed to be.” Taylor said, placing an arm around her new friend’s shoulder.
“Plus, if my intuition is right, you just might be making more friends tonight,” Taylor smiled as the car came to a stop. Diana was going to ask what she meant before the door was opened and flashes of light began blinding her vision.
Diana was still trying to get her eyesight back to normal when she stepped into the venue that had been rented for the evening. Her sister had done an amazing job, the entire room was decorated as if they had just stepped foot into a forest. She now understood why her sister insisted on her wearing the cream corseted dress that perfectly fit the theme. Diana felt like a fairy.
Looking around the room, Diana was overwhelmed by not only the number of people but who cared enough to actually show up for her. The room was a mix of people she met since the breakup and ones who have known her since before her debut album. She was almost certain she had seen some people she hadn’t even recognized!
Two hours after arriving and making her rounds, Diana found herself sharing a joint with Elijah, one of her childhood friends from Philly. The two hadn’t seen each other in years, but had picked back up like they never missed a step. The pair were in a fit of giggles when Diana noticed a group of rather large men sitting at a high top near the bar.
Diana took a pull from the join, squinting her eyes to try to make out the faces of any of the four men laughing amongst themselves. “Do you know who they are,” she exhaled the question and the smoke together. 
“Not for real, but it looks like they linebackers or some shit,” Elijah cackled, taking the joint from Diana’s hand. 
“Fuck,” she cursed Biz aloud. “That has to be Travis’ friends, right?” 
Diana was weighing the odds that any Chiefs player, other than the one who was dating her friend, would show up to her party less than a week after losing the spot in the upcoming Super Bowl. She didn’t know much about pro athletes, but based off of the way Travis was talking to Biz in the car, the team was taking it pretty hard. 
“Shit, I know him though,” Eli pointed out Travis in the crowd, heading their way with Taylor. When the couple arrived in front of them, Eli offered the joint to Travis and Taylor grabbed hold of Diana’s hand. 
“C’mon, Di! There’s some people I want to introduce you to!” Taylor’s drunken giggles filled Diana’s ears. She wasn’t sure if it was the four Palomas she had pounded since she got here, the pre-roll she just took part in, or the second-hand confidence that comes from being on the arm of The Taylor Swift, but all of her anxiety was replaced with excitement as she was pulled towards the unknown men. 
“Hey fellas!” Taylor greeted the group, “I’m Taylor and I really think you should say Happy Birthday to my friend, Diana!” 
The redhead shot her a confused look, expecting Taylor to have met these men before at least! Deep laughs pulled her out of her thoughts as a chorus of ‘happy birthdays’ filled the air.
The man that Diana didn’t recognize spoke first, “Thanks for inviting us! I’m Tee.” Offering out his hand and pointing out the other men as he said their names. “Ja’Marr, Joe, and T.B.”
“Oh! Hi!” Diana greeted more excitedly than she would if she were sober. “I saw your interview! Thank you so much for giving me a shout-out. Anyone who plays my music on live TV is cool in my book”
Ja’Marr and Tee broke into laughter as Tee elbowed Joe in the ribs and whispered something to the guys.. She wasn’t sure if it was her projecting or if she actually saw Joe blush and look away. Thankfully, before anxiety could take over Diana’s mind, Ja’Marr shouted over the music. 
“Let’s just say you’ve been on the official playlist since the LSU days with me and Joe. Ever since I met him, he been playing that Marvin’s Room cover..” 
Diana’s face burned, embarrassed about the drunken remix she had done on Instagram Live at 18. A fight with her then-boyfriend sparked a bender of prescriptions and alcohol causing her to lose inhibitions and stream from the recording studio. While she was embarrassed about the situation, she was happy her label had let her finally release more mature music after. 
“Oh, my God! I forgot you did that” Taylor giggled, swatting her new friend’s arm. “That was so Bad Ass.”
“I agree,” Joe spoke for the first time. His voice was clearer, more sure of itself than Diana remembered from the interview. And Mic’d Ups she had seen after googling him. 
“Thank you,” Diana accepted, eyes trained on Joe. One of the other men had changed topics in the brief moment their eyes had locked, but she couldn’t be sure which. The intensity of Joe’s gaze caused heat to fill Diana’s cheeks and she turned back to the group just in time to hear Ja’Marr jesting with Taylor.
“As cool as your boy is, I’m glad it’s not him in the Super Bowl. Like I said a few weeks ago, anyone but the Chiefs.”
“Hey, now. Don’t be bitter we went farther than you, Chase.” Travis’ voice startled Diana, who was doing her best to stare anywhere but at Joe. She busied herself by watching the Tight End as he carefully distributed the drinks he was carrying, an Old Fashion for Taylor and a Paloma for Diana and himself. 
After thanking Travis, Diana turned her focus back to the group. The conversation had turned to the topic of the recent football season and even though Diana knew next to nothing about sports, she found the conversation was piquing her interests more than she imagined. “And I’m not sorry, bro. I said what I said and I said anyone but the Chiefs,” Ja’Marr laughed in Travis’ direction. “Oh, so you guys have beef,” Diana questioned, nervous to show she didn’t know much about the profession of the majority of the group. Luckily the men were kind enough to explain their recent rivalry and some of the basics of the game. Well, as much as they could with the amount of alcohol that was being consumed. Before long Taylor had excused herself to say hi to someone she had recognized, Ja’ and Travis and T.B. had broken into their own conversation, moving to the bar itself. 
“So, Ja’Marr and I are wide-receiver, which means that it’s our job to catch the ball when the quarterback, or Joe, throws it,” Tee was attempting to explain to Diana for the third time. Joe was staring, finishing the last of his drink and Ja’Marr shook his head in frustration as Diana nodded her head in a way that showed she clearly had not committed the information to memory. “Man, Tee, just give up. Let’s go get us some drinks,” Ja’Marr pulled T.B. away, leaving just Joe smiling at Diana.
“So, uh, I’m glad you guys came!,” Diana blurted out nervously, instantly cringing that she had just repeated her introduction. “Well, what I mean is, I didn’t get response from the team or see you guys when I first got here.” “Oh, we lost track of time pregaming and were advised to come in through the back since the press saw some of the guests you had,” Joe smiled, simultaneously calming some of the nervousness she felt and sending her stomach into somersaults. “Apparently you’re quite the popular lady. Taylor Swift and Wiz Khalifa at the same party? Talk about Taylor Gang or die.” 
Diana laughed at the last comment. She really was blown away by the amount of people who showed up for her. She hadn’t even spoken to Cam, better known as Wiz, since their collaboration six years ago and he had shown up to support her.
“Yeah, I’m really grateful that all of these people wanted to spend their evening celebrating me,” Diana beamed. She was in a state of intoxicated euphoria that was giving her the courage to act on what she wanted, like asking Joe to leave the crowded room. “Do you want to walk to the balcony?”
A curt nod of agreement was all it took for the pair to drain their drinks, stand up from the table, and make their way to the outer edge of the room. Conversation flowed freely between the two as they walked, discussing their tastes in music, movies, and books.
“You look wonderful tonight, by the way,” Joe changed the subject, eyes scanning the dance floor where his teammates had found their home for the night. 
Diana was sure that her face was going to permanently be the color of her hair just from the presence of the quarterback to the side of her. “Thank you, you don’t look so bad yourself,” she replied.
And he did. He was wearing a pair of faded black jeans that were perfectly tailored to his muscular thighs, a black t-shirt that was clinging to his chest nicely, a brightly colored jacket and his signature gold chains, including the 9. Diana let her eyes linger on his chest longer than she normally would have before Joe’s voice broke her out of the trance.
“So, can I be honest with you?,” Joe asked, glancing down at Diana. Even in the heels she was currently wearing, the man still stood a good 8 inches taller than the woman at his side. 
“Uhm, sure?” Diana answered, unsure of what was about to come. ‘I’ve known the man for less than an hour, what hasn’t he been honest about?’ Diana thought to herself as they made their way down the hall that led to the balcony.
“I was honestly shocked you invited me after Ja’Marr’s interview,” Joe laughed, opening the door, and letting Diana step onto the balcony before following suit. 
“Are you kidding me? I’m shocked that you guys listen to my music!” Diana shoved his shoulder. “Besides, I got pressured into inviting you all since you curved me last month.” 
The redhead took a few more steps before she realized that Joe was no longer beside her. When she glanced backward, she noticed that Joe was wearing a puzzled expression.
“What do you mean I curved you,” Joe asked slowly like he was trying to put pieces of the puzzle together.
“Well, after I saw your interview, I was honestly shocked that you even listened to my music. Then Ja’Marr said to hit you up, so I had my manager ask your team for your number,” Diana explained, body fully turned towards Joe now. “I never heard back and Biz insisted it wasn’t desperate to try again too.” “You’re joking,” Joe let out a humorless laugh and shook. “I thought that was the team making fun of me after Ja’Marr embarrassed me with the interview.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Was what he said not true?” Diana teased, taking a step toward him. “Are you not a fan?”
“No, I’m a huge fan,” Joe flushed, eyes locked with the aquamarine ones in front of him, encouraging Diana to take another step. “Yeah, what was it the Ja’Marr said? ‘Practically obsessed,” Diana’s voice came out breathier than she imagined, taking another step. She was practically chest to chest to chest with Joe, their eye contact never breaking. “To ‘hit you up’” 
That was all Joe needed before grabbing the back of her head and leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss. The action was drunk and messy, fueled by equal parts lust and alcohol. As the kiss deepened all Diana could think about was how she wasn’t close enough to Joe. Grabbing his jacket, she stepped into him again, causing him to slowly take steps backward until his thighs hit a table beside the door, filled with floral arrangements and an ashtray. Joe shifted his weight so that he was partially sitting on the table, partially leaning. Their lips moved together rhythmically until Joe pulled away and trailed kisses down her jawbone, grabbing at the tulle skirt of Diana’s dress while Diana adjusted her legs on either side of Joe’s so that she was straddling his thigh. 
Joe’s mouth worked its way towards Diana’s neck, finding the tender spot behind her ear. A wave of pleasure washed through Diana, a moan leaving her lips and hips bucking against Joe’s thigh. His rough hands ran up and down her body methodically as if he already knew what buttons to push to cause the woman before him to melt, mouth continuing its path down her cherry blossom tattoo.
Diana rocked her hips again, craving the relief the friction had given her, hands tangling in Joe’s waves. “Fuck,” she whispered, barely finding her voice. Joe pulled back, hungry gaze meeting Diana’s eyes before recapturing her swollen lips. Placing his hands firmly on her hips, he helped her find a motion that kept the moans falling from her beautiful mouth. A familiar tension, one that Diana had only felt at her own hands the past three months, was building in her stomach as she took Joe’s bottom lip between her teeth. Her alcohol-raddled brain didn’t care that she was on a balcony riding a professional athlete’s thigh, she was desperate for release and she was determined to get it.
That was until the door beside them slammed open, causing Diana to take a step back from Joe. Biz stepped through the door, calling Diana’s name. “Di! Are you out he-”
Biz cut herself off when her eyes landed on her sister, lips swollen, love bites down her neck, the skirt of her dress still in Joe’s hand. The pair looked like they had been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “Oh! I, well, I just came to find you because it’s time for cake. We’ve been looking for you.”
Diana cleared her throat, causing Joe to let go of her skirt and stand up straight. “Right, uh, you better get in there. Can’t cut the cake without the birthday girl. I’ll talk to yo later, I guess.” Scratching the back of his head, Joe did his best to look anywhere but at Biz while he exited the balcony.
“What the fuck was that?” Biz asked, incredulously, still staring at her sister. 
“Well, I don’t know what it could have been, but what it turned out to be was a cockblock,” Diana laughed. “What happened to ‘I barely remember his name’ and ‘he was just making fun of me’,” Biz’s face finally broke into a smile. “I don’t know, Biz. I think we were just both drunk. I’m sure he was just looking for someone to hook up with, it’s probably nothing,” Diana shrugged, brushing past her sister. “Now let’s go get cake.”
After cutting the cake, the last hour of the party was a blur to Diana. Cathy, her manager, had grabbed and insisted she say bye to as many of the music producers as possible before making her own exit. Normally, Diana wouldn’t have minded at all, wanting to take any opportunity she had to suck up to the people in charge of her music. But tonight, Diana could not take her mind off Joe and his blue eyes and soft lips. She hadn’t managed to get his phone number after realizing that he never rejected her and she was hoping to see him again.
After saying farewell to the last of the label reps, Cathy advised Diana to finish up her goodbyes as it was almost time for the car to take her home. Diana followed instructions, making sure that when she found Biz and Taylor, they stayed by her side. While waiting for Travis and Austin to show up with the groups’ coats, Diana couldn’t help but continue to glance around the room for messy brown waves.
“They left right after the cake was cut,” Biz spoke knowingly, a smirk on her face. Diana’s heart dropped. She didn’t get to say bye to Joe.
“Who left?” Taylor asked, “The guys from the Bengals. Seems like Diana and the quarterback snuck off to have a little fun,” Biz cackled, “He even gave her a hickey like we’re in seventh grade.”
Before Diana could reply to her sister, Travis and Austin approached the ladies and started distributing coats before the group made their way outside and into the Suburban waiting for them. Determined to not let disappointment ruin her night, Diana decided to add songs that reminded her of tonight to her public playlist while they drove. She added “How to Touch a Girl” before moving on to her last album. Looking over the tracklist, she added “Vibe” and “Like This”,  deciding that they perfectly described the feelings of lust and excitement she was filled with earlier.
Diana couldn’t shake the feeling as she was falling asleep that she wished that she had stopped Joe from leaving the balcony. Maybe then, she would be falling asleep next to him and not squished in between her sister and her new friend.
--------
Taglist: If you'd like to be added, let me know!
@therapycat21
Ahhhh, I am so overwhelmed by the feedback. Thank you so much for liking, reblogging, and replying. I don't know if you all are interested in the spotify playlist Diana would make or media blurbs after the chapter, but I can also do those.
Thank you again!
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canirove · 15 days
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Friends, lovers... and an orange | Chapter 1
Summary: Since the day Adele was born, people had told her she was destined to fall in love with Mason. Their mothers, supermodels Elizabeth Turlingon and Toni Mount, had been best friends since they were teenagers, and according to everyone, it just meant to be. But after 25 years, nothing of the sort had happened. Nothing, until some photos and a big secret changed it all. 
Author’s note: And after almost two years since I started writing this story... it is finally live! 😅 You are lucky my perfectionist self doesn't allow me to post anything that isn't finished, because you would have have been waiting for an ending for ages, and I hate that 🙈 This is a friends to lovers story inspired by all those conspiracy theories about a couple not being able to be together because their evil management team don't allow them to, but with a twist. I hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜
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Elizabeth Turlington and Antonia "Toni" Mount had been two of the most famous models in the 90's. They both got to be on Vogue covers all over the world, walked for the best designers, and became the face of the most important brands in fashion. They were, what you call, supermodels.
Best friends since they met during a casting when they were just 16 years old, Elizabeth and Toni became inseparable, and their private lives kind of followed the same path. They both got engaged and married the same year, and their first kids were born just a few months apart. First Mason, in January, and then Adele in July.
The media had gone crazy about it, saying that they were going to fall in love and get married because they were destined to be together due to their mothers being best friends. But almost 25 years later, nothing like that had really happened.
Mason, Toni's son, had decided to follow his mother's steps and become a model. Unlike many others, he had chosen to start from the bottom, doing castings like everyone else. He had wanted to make a career due to his talent and not because of his last name (he had taken his mother’s instead of his father’s as an homage), and he had managed to do it. Mason was now considered one of the most successful male models, his face basically being everywhere. Brands were fighting to have him on their campaigns, all the designers wanted him on their shows, and your party was nothing if he wasn't attending. He was THE one.
Meanwhile, Adele had chosen a quiet life. Everyone had always told her that she had gotten the best of her parents, her mother's looks and her father's brain, but she had never been interested in modeling. She had focused on her studies and going to uni, and the only thing related to that world that she liked was photography, which also was the thing that she and Mason enjoyed doing together the most. 
Growing up they weren't super close, they were just... friends. They had never been attached to the hip like people expected them to be. That, had actually been their little brothers' case. But their relationship would completely change every time there was a camera involved. 
When Adele turned eleven, her dad gifted her her first proper camera, and Mason was as fascinated by it as she was. They spent the day learning how to use it, and after getting the hang of it, their days would consist in going outside and taking photos of each other or anything they saw. A tree, a rock, the sunset... It didn't matter. They would be gone for hours, though for them time flew by.
As they grew older and busy with their own lives, they started to see each other less often, but the couple of weeks in the summer they spent together with their families were a must, and both of them would bring their cameras and go out to explore. 
"These photos are stunning, Adele" Toni said. 
"Thank you" she smiled.
"What about mine?" Mason asked.
"Lovely too, darling. But she has something you don't have."
"Thank you, mum" he said, rolling his eyes. "Though I agree. Addie here is the talented one."
"Thank you" she replied, Mason putting an arm around her shoulders and hugging her. 
Addie. That had been his nickname for her since they were kids, and everyone else in their families had picked it too. Addie and Mase, something you could still see carved on a tree in her grandmother's garden. They were twelve when they did it, and she almost killed them when she saw it.
"You know, I've been thinking and... Why don't you take the photos for my 50th birthday party?" Toni said. "I was looking for someone, but why pay a stranger when I have you?"
"That's a wonderful idea!" Elizabeth said. "Now you won't have an excuse to not attend."
"You weren't coming?"
"I... I'm just busy with..." Adele mumbled.
"With nothing. You just finished your degree and still don't know what to do next" her mum said. "She'll be there."
"Wonderful!" Toni smiled.
"It'll be a small thing, you will be fine" Mason said. "And if you need help to run away or hide, you can always count on me" he winked.
"Thank you, Mase" Adele smiled.
━━━━━━❃━━━━━━
Flashforward to Toni's birthday party. The small thing, wasn't small. At all. Adele had already taken photos of over fifty people and more were arriving, and by the time she was done with the photocall, her memory card was full.
"How is it going?"
"Shit, Mase. You scared me" she laughed.
"Sorry" he smiled, that cute dimple of his showing.
"I'm lucky I brought several memory cards with me. A small thing, you said?"
"Yeah… You know my mum" Mason replied, scratching the back of his head. "Do you want to have a drink or something before going back to it?"
"Sure" Adele said. "Just let me put my camera somewhere safe."
Once they were done with that drink, it was time to go back to work, and she filled two more memory cards before Mason went looking for her again. But she just couldn't stop taking photos of all the guests and what they were wearing, of them dancing, talking, drinking, laughing... They all were captivating.
"Mum wants you with us for the cake."
"What? And who will be taking the photos?" Adele asked.
"I don't know" Mason shrugged. "But she wants you there with us and your parents."
"Ok" she sighed. She hated being in front of the camera unless it was Mason the one behind it. Somehow, he always knew how to make her feel comfortable. "By the way, who was that girl you were talking to earlier?" Adele had been drawn to her the moment they had crossed paths. She had the most beautiful black hair she had ever seen, and after taking a few snaps of her, she saw her talking with Mason. Or flirting, to be more precise.
"We were on a shoot together a couple of weeks ago. She's nice."
"And she fancies you."
"What? Nah. She's just a work colleague, nothing else."
"If you say so... But what about that other girl? The one you were seen with the other day, the singer."
"Addie, are you interrogating me about my love life?" Mason laughed.
"No, I was just... It doesn't matter."
"I'm going on dates but I'm not dating anyone. Got what you wanted?" he smirked.
"That's not why I asked. I…"
"Mason, Adele. C'mon!" her mum called after them. "It's almost cake time!"
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By the end of the night, Adele had five memory cards full of photos, her feet hurt like hell, and she was slightly tipsy. 
"Do you think your mum will mind if I don't have the photos ready right away? I think it will take me days to go through all of them and edit them."
"Yeah, don't worry. Take your time" Mason said while helping her pack her camera. "And if you need an extra pair of hands and eyes, just call me. I'm free for the next few days."
"Thank you, Mase" she smiled. 
"Do you want me to accompany you home?"
“There is no need. But if you could wait with me outside until my uber comes..."
"Of course. And we could share it if you don't mind. I'm going back to my place instead of my parents."
"Worried your mum may not allow you to sleep until lunch time?" Adele chuckled.
"Exactly" he smiled.
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"Why is that car taking so long?" 
"I wish I knew" Adele yawned.
"Tired?"
"Very" she said, resting her head on Mason's shoulder. "And a bit cold too."
"Come here" he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. It was something he had been doing since they were kids, and it felt natural, familiar… comforting. 
"You smell really good tonight. What perfume are you wearing?"
"Can't tell you, it isn't out yet."
"A new campaign?"
"Yep. You'll get tired of seeing my face everywhere.”
"Of seeing your face everywhere again, you mean" Adele teased him. "But congratulations, Mase. A perfume contract is huge!"
"It is, yes. And I'm really proud of this one. I actually helped pick some of the ingredients."
"You did? That's amazing! Let me smell you again."
"Ok" Mason laughed, moving his head so she could do it better.
"Oranges. Of course you had to pick oranges."
"They are my fave, and yours too” he smiled. “And they remind me of that trip to Italy, the one where we ate the best pizza ever at the beach."
"Oh my God, that pizza was so good… Now you are making me hungry!”
"Maybe we could stop to eat some on our way home. If the uber ever..."
"There it is" Adele chuckled when the car stopped in front of them. "Should we stop at Giorgio's?"
"You know the way to my heart, Addie" Mason smiled while opening the car's door for her.
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"Addie… Addie, wake up. Ad… Adele!"
"What" she mumbled, slowly opening her eyes. 
"Something has happened, Addie. Look" her friend Jourdan said, literally putting her phone in her nose.
"I'm not that blind, you know" she complained while picking it. "What is this?"
"This was published this morning. Is... Is it true? Did you...?"
"Did I..." she said, her eyes finally adjusting to the light and being able to read what was on the screen. "Mason Mount and Adele Turlington caught kissing! The couple was seen outside Toni Mount's birthday party sharing confidences, laughing and getting cosy before leaving together in the same car." "What the fuck?"
"Addie, are you dating Mason? I thought you didn't like him like that" Jourdan said.
"What? No! I'm not dating him and I didn't kiss him!"
"Then why does it totally look like it?"
"It was the angle! I was just smelling his neck!"
"You what?" her friend laughed.
"It's a long story. But I didn't kiss him!"
"Well, the whole world thinks you did. And people are going nuts about it."
"Wonderful. That's just wonderful" Adele sighed. 
Knowing how much people wanted them to be together, she and Mason had always been careful around each other to try to not start any rumours. But that night, they had let their guard down, the idea that there could be paparazzis still waiting outside never crossing their minds. And now, what they had always feared, could have started.
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