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#camping in heavy snow
campingsilence · 1 year
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soothingvlog · 9 months
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'Heavy damage by'- the river flooding in sainj valley himachal pradesh@Himalayan Time Travels & Adventure camping #soothing vlog #floods #rain #cloudburst #camping #travel #adventure #trekking #manali #himachalpradesh #snow #kullumanali
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assassinsblade · 4 months
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Heavy Weather
In which yours and Azriel’s mission is disrupted by a major inconvenience: your cycle.
WC: 4.1k
Warnings: Nothing really, just fluff and period stuff!
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Gods, it was cold.
The snow fell down in sheets, covering the forest floor and soaking into your leathers. Azriel was trekking about twenty feet in front of you, eyes scouring the area, although his grip was loose around Truth Teller at his side.
“The Winter Court…” you grouched, mimicking your high lord. “Why couldn’t it have been Day Court. Or Autumn.”
Azriel chuckled. “You wanna spend time with Helion and Eris? I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
The air in front of you steamed as you let out an exhausted breath. You both had been pushing through this snow for hours. You couldn’t even remember what you were looking for at this point. You had only been there for about ten hours, and a little into the cold wilderness, you found your brain becoming foggy and your body fatigued. You really needed a blanket and sleep.
“Helion would never let me freeze. He likes body heat too much. And Eris has fire powers.”
“Something tells me Eris wouldn’t be too keen on helping.”
You shrugged, lifting your foot to step over a snow-covered log. “He’s always been fine to me.”
A muscle in Azriel's jaw jumped, his wings going tight against his back. You could barely make out the pink coloring of his mouth through the snowfall. “I don’t trust him,” he said. “Not after Mor, and not with you.”
“So dramatic.” You attempted to ease the tension in the air at your mention of the soon-to-be High Lord of the Autumn Court.
“I’m dramatic? You live in the Night Court and suddenly you act like snow is going to kill you.”
You did feel like it was going to kill you. You didn’t know what had you so exhausted, why the snow seemed to be soaking through your clothes and seeping its way straight into your bones. You had slept okay last night, hadn’t you? You were wearing weather-appropriate clothing. You had done enough training and exercise that this hike shouldn’t be wearing you down this much.
You hadn’t realized that Azriel had turned around to look at you, stopping in his tracks as he waited for you to catch up.
“Are you actually okay?” His voice was more serious this time, less teasing.
Giving him a nod, you focused on putting one foot in front of the other. “Yeah. Let’s just make shelter somewhere soon. I really am cold.”
He nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. You didn’t blame him, you must have looked pathetic. Your teeth were chattering so loud the same spies you came to the Winter Court to track would no doubt be able to hear you if close. Your body felt like you had weights pulling you down under the earth, with each step comparable to trudging through quicksand. And you just felt off - like you could pass out or throw up at any moment.
Azriel waited until you were by his side once again before continuing to move.
“There’s an abandoned cabin not too far from here. We’ll camp there for the night, get you some rest. Maybe a blanket or two.”
The wind burnt your cheeks as you tilted you head to look at him. He seemed completely unaffected. In fact, it was as if he was taking a stroll through the Summer Court, right along the water, basking in the breeze.
“How are you not freezing?”
His lips quirked up at your angry tone. “Believe it or not, Sunshine, I grew up in the snowy Illyrian mountains.”
You nodded, only half-hearing his response. And then your feet were stumbling over one another, and Azriel had to reach out quickly to prevent you from falling.
“Not too far now,” he reassured. But he kept his hand on your leathers the rest of the way to the cabin, monitoring your movements and ensuring you wouldn’t just topple over. Every so often, you felt him look over at you, as if he didn’t trust his hand and wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen behind again.
It felt like hours before the rickety structure came into view, and by that point, you truly knew something was wrong with you. Had you been poisoned at some point during the trip? Were you sick? You didn’t think you’d ever been sick in your entire life as fae.
Once you were at the landing of the cabin, you realized Azriel had been supporting your weight much more than you had intended or thought. His entire forearm was supporting your back now, pushing you forward until you crossed the threshold into the enclosed space.
You heard the door shut tightly behind you, sucking the sound of the wind out with it. In the silence, you nearly collapsed.
There wasn’t much time to take in your surroundings. You briefly saw a couch, a kitchen area, and a fireplace. There was probably a bathroom down the hall, maybe a bed if you were lucky. Your thoughts didn’t go past that though as you stumbled for the sofa.
Azriel watched as you fell into it, your head tipping back and eyes scrunching closed. You tried to school your features into something less uncomfortable, but you doubted it was convincing.
“I’ll get a fire going.”
You heard his footsteps move toward the fireplace, the scuffling of movements as wood was moved from the keep to the hearth. However, despite his action to get the cabin warm for you, you could still feel his eyes drifting toward the couch intermittently.
Wood began cracking, a light forming in the corner of your vision. Still cold, still weak, you tried to breathe steadily.
You were about to say something to distract Azriel from your odd behavior when you felt fabric being laid over your body. Your hands automatically went to grip the blanket, pulling it up to your chin weakly before peeking your eyes open.
Azriel was already moving away from the couch, but he didn’t leave the room before muttering a quiet, “Get some sleep.”
Sleep, unfortunately, did not come easy to you. You alternated between feeling like you were going to vomit and feeling like you were being stabbed. Your muscles ached, and it seemed to take all of your energy to rise your chest in a breath.
You tried to focus on the fire, on the way sparks flew from the wood, briefly illuminating the dark stone. The warmth of the flames was drifting toward the couch now, and you tried to adjust your body to move closer to it.
In your movement, though, you noticed the way your damp clothes felt different against your skin. The snow had soaked into the fabric, but the feeling you recognized in your core at your movement toward the fireplace had you nearly whimpering.
Azriel was there before you could make it fully off the couch, reaching his hands out to catch you from falling.
“What are you doing?”
“I- I need to-“
“-Lay down,” he interrupted. “Rest.”
You tried to breathe through the pain. Your vision was becoming blurry with each stab through your abdomen, and you honestly did not understand how you missed your symptoms earlier.
“I can’t, Azriel… I need-“
“-I know.” He gently guided you back onto the couch, hands pulling the blanket over you once again. “I know. Just breathe. I’ll be right back.”
Did he know? Could he sense it now? Could he smell the blood? Recognize the symptoms too?
There wasn't time to be embarrassed because he was gone again quickly, and you couldn’t help the tears that escaped at the pain running through your body.
When you had first met Feyre and she had told you the difference between fae and human cycles, you had nearly cursed the Mother for torturing your kind. You had been literally stabbed before, beaten, and burned, and nothing compared to the pain of your cycle.
“Here,” Azriel said, reappearing before you. He laid some sort of steaming broth he must have found in a cupboard on the table in front of you, along with some torn pieces of cloth, presumably from a towel found in the rest of the house.
You looked at the items, tears blurring your eyes again. You felt like you couldn’t move, everything ached, everything hurt, everything felt wrong-
“I need help,” you got out through your tears, your voice sounding weak even to yourself.
“Okay.” Azriel nodded. “That’s okay.”
He gripped under your legs and behind your back, pulling you up until you were on the edge of the couch. "I have changes of clothes for us in my bag. Do you want me to help you to the bathroom?”
You nodded, too embarrassed to look at him. Azriel didn’t say a word though, instead grabbing a few of the pieces of cloth, his bag off the ground, and scooped you up into his arms.
He walked you both to the bathroom, and you kept your face buried close to his chest both so you wouldn’t have to see if you got anything on the couch and so that Azriel wouldn’t see the redness in your cheeks.
When he entered the bathroom, he set you onto the counter before setting the supplies down. From his bag, he pulled out the extra pair of underwear, pants, bra, and shirt you had packed for yourself.
“Do you want to wash off?” He asked genuinely, glimpsing over his shoulder at the antique bathtub.
Did you want to be clean? Absolutely. But your entire body felt like it was going to fall through the floor, weighed down with aches, pain, and exhaustion. You weren’t even sure you could get your arms to move enough to scrub yourself clean.
You whimpered at your inability to do what you needed, at how weak you felt, and the frustration that coursed through your veins.
"Hey, it's okay." Azriel brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, bringing your eyes to meet his own. "What do you need? What can I do?"
You just shook your head, face flushing red. "I can't ask you to help me with this."
Because this was embarrassing and some males thought it was weak and gross and something to be kept taboo. You were quite literally bleeding through your leathers, with your abdomen, back, and legs all twisting and cramping in pain, heat scouring your body, and you felt like a little kid again -- needing to be taken care of, unable to do the basic task of looking after yourself. It was humiliating, but especially in front of Azriel of all people. Someone so composed, so strong.
It wasn't as if your friends didn't know about your cycle or what you female fae went through. On the contrary, they always offered to help where they could. If you missed out on training because of your cycle, Cassian would always bring up some tonics or some extra food and water to make sure you were okay. A few cycles that were particularly bad had Rhys sending after Madja, and Azriel rushing when he heard. He was the one who had advocated for Madja to give you some sleeping tonics to help you sleep through the pain instead of withstanding it.
But here? On a mission? This was too much.
"Why not?" Azriel's question brought you back to the present. He looked genuinely confused, his brows furrowing slightly.
"Azriel..." you pleaded with his questioning, arms wrapping around your stomach as pain hit you again. You swayed slightly on the counter, Azriel's hands dropping from your face to your waist to steady you.
"You're in pain." His voice was serious, and you wanted to hide your face in his chest. "Let me help you. I don't like seeing you like this."
You swallowed, trying to reign in your shame and embarrassment. It wasn't a big deal, you told yourself. This was natural. And Azriel is over five hundred years old, surely he's seen and dealt with cycles and all they entail before. It doesn't have to make a difference being yours.
"Okay," you whispered. "Could you- could you uh, help me wash off? I don't think I can..."
He didn't make you finish your sentence once he realized you didn't know how to explain your own weakness at the moment. He just nodded, bringing his hands to your arms and rubbing up and down comfortingly.
"Of course."
You nodded, more-so reassuring yourself that this was okay. He was okay. Right? He'd say if he was uncomfortable?
Azriel turned and twisted the faucet to the bathtub, fingers resting under the water that came out until he found the temperature pleasing. The water was clear, thankfully, and the tub looked clean as well.
Once that was filling, he turned to the cabinets you were seated on, bending down and looking through them for any kind of soap and towels. Finding the supplies he was looking for, he set them by the edge of the tub and turned to where you were sitting.
"Arms up?"
His question was hesitant, asking more than if you needed help. Did you want to completely undress? Were you comfortable with him seeing you like this?
You lifted your arms, the weight of your limbs feeling heavy. You wanted to throw up, to go to sleep, to cry.
Azriel's gentle hands moved the fabric up your torso, keeping his touch to the clothing only. Once it was free from your form, you nodded at him to keep going.
He grasped your hips and lifted you to stand, holding onto the majority of your weight when you seemed unstable. His hands gripped your own and brought them to his own torso.
"Hold onto me."
And you did, allowing yourself to lean into his strong form as he unbuttoned your snow-soaked pants and began to pull them down. You rested your head on his chest, turning your face into him to hide your embarrassment at the blood that no doubt coated your pants and your middle.
Tears pricked your eyes at how vulnerable this all was, but you blinked them away as Azriel backed up, your bare form now before him.
His casual look over you wasn't one of lust or desire but of care and concern. He was looking for injuries, hypothermia, anything that would need immediate attention before the bath. When he was satisfied, his gentle touch led you to the edge of the tub, grasping your forearm and helping you ease into the water.
You sank low into the heat, releasing a breath you hadn't known you had been holding from your cramps.
Azriel seemed to notice how you had been holding your breath too. He brought a hand up to push some of the sweat-slicked hair back from your forehead. "Make sure you're breathing, sweetheart."
You nod, closing your eyes and trying to relax through the stabbing in your back.
You could hear the soap bottle cap opening, the sound of liquid meeting a hand, and scrubbing. Peeking an eye open, you see Azriel getting his hands wet and reaching for one of your arms.
"Is this okay?" He asked.
Your heart thumped in your chest. He was too good for you. Better than any male you had ever met.
"Yes. Thank you." Your voice was small, weak in your state, but you both could hear the emotion in it.
"You don't have to thank me," Azriel responded, his hands moving up and down your arm softly before reaching for the other. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."
Humming in response, you sat up so he could help get your back. He was mindful of your comfort, sweeping over any vulnerable or inappropriate places lightly to ensure you were clean but never lingering.
While he washed, he told you stories of Rhys' sister. How when they were younger and she had gotten her first cycle, Rhys hadn't known what to do. None of them had. They thought she was dying, and Rhys' mother had to corral them together into the living room to get them to calm down and stop their panicking. He laughed at the story, and you couldn't help the relaxed giggles of your own.
"I can't imagine the stoic shadowsinger panicking over a girl's cycle."
His lips curved into a soft smile, eyes bright with adoration. "What do you think I'm doing now?"
You looked up at him, smiling. You couldn't believe how comfortable you felt, how normal this all felt. You were completely naked in front of him, completely bare to his touch while he sat clothed next to you, but it felt safe.
"You don't seem too panicked," you tried to tease.
He scoffed. "You should have seen me in the kitchen when we first got here. I was borderline scrambling."
You laughed, and he led you to a sitting position, stroking your back with his fingers lightly. "You ready to get out?"
At your confirmation, he scooped you up into his arms, no doubt getting water everywhere on the floor and also all over his own clothes. You squeaked in protest, but he didn't seem to care, only setting you back onto your feet and wrapping you up tightly in a towel.
Teeth chattering at the newfound cold outside of the bath, you gripped the towel around you, staring up into the bright hazel eyes of the male in front of you. He was still holding you tightly, eyes surveying your form. You wondered what he was thinking in this moment, but you wanted nothing more than to lean forward and let him keep holding you.
His hands moved with the towel, rubbing your arms before bringing the fabric down to your legs.
Right. You needed to get dressed.
"Here we go." Azriel grabbed your spare change of clothes, starting with your underwear. He took some of the makeshift pads he had created, placing one in the underwear before leaning down.
He looked up at you from his knees, and you wanted to frame the image. The sight of this angel, his dark hair messy from the snow, hazel eyes shining with care, on his knees for you, hands open to help take care of you. You wanted to jump on him, kiss him, and never let him stop touching you.
But this was Azriel, and he had never given you any inclination that was something he wanted.
You stepped into the fabric, allowing the shadowsinger to pull it up your legs. Once those were on, he bundled you up in your new shirt before holding the pants in front of you.
"Did you want to wait until we leave for these? They are leathers. I don't want you to be more uncomfortable just for the sake of feeling like you have to wear them."
"I'd rather not."
He nodded, setting them aside before wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you back to the couch.
You were feeling a little better now that you were clean and not bleeding down your legs, but you still felt drowsy and like someone was hacking your insides apart. On your way back, your knees nearly gave way with the pain of a particular cramp, and you couldn't help the cry that escaped with it.
Azriel caught you swiftly, hiking you back up into his arms.
When he laid you back onto the couch, now covered in blankets with even more on top of you, you looked up at the exhausted male. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he said. He sounded genuine, but you couldn't help but feel guilty.
You gritted your teeth through the pain, gripping your abdomen tightly. "I ruined this mission."
"Nothing has been ruined."
He walked over to the fireplace once you were settled, stoking the logs to get the fire rising again. "Well," he continued. "Except your pants."
You couldn't help but laugh, and the shadowsinger actually cracked a smile at the sound. But then you were grimacing, tears coming to your eyes and your breath hitching in your throat at your body's attack on itself.
Azriel frowned, hands twitching at his sides.
"We'll get ahold of Rhys," he reassured. "Get you to Madja."
You tried to breathe through it, knuckles white from gripping the blankets around you. You could hear his footsteps getting closer, feel his heat as he kneeled down next to the couch beside you, feel his strong hands unravel your fingers from the blanket and grip them in his own.
His other hand came up and slowly stroked your hair back, gently weaving his fingers through the strands. Your eyes fluttered shut at the gentle touch, despite how tightly you squeezed his hand.
"I'm okay," you tried to convince him. "It's just a cycle."
You weren't sure why you were trying to downplay your pain so much. Were you trying to come across stronger than you were? To impress him? Did you think he would truly find you weak?
"I've seen fae be out for a full week because of a cycle. Not eating or drinking, just trying to make it through... You don't have to be okay."
And it was as if you needed his permission, because as soon as the words left his mouth, you tilted your head back, eyebrows scrunching in pain, and let the truth flow past your own lips.
"Yeah, it fucking hurts."
He laughed, but the sound was sympathetic. Bringing your hand up to his lips, he placed a gentle kiss there, and you nearly shot up at the action. You tried not to think too much into it but his lips on your skin was something you couldn't just ignore.
"Is there anything else I can do?"
His voice was soft, gentle, reverent. And he was looking at you like he would do anything you asked. Like you could tell him to go sit in the snow for an hour while you basked in the heat, and he would stand up diligently before marching his way into the blizzard.
He looked at you expectantly, and your heart swelled. One day you would tell him. Tell him how you loved him, how you thought that maybe there was something there between you two, something that tied your souls and hearts together.
"I'm still kind of cold," you admitted. "Could you lay with me?"
At first you thought the question was a bit of a risk, something he might not be comfortable with. But then you thought about how you were completely naked before him not even twenty minutes prior, and you felt less embarrassed to ask.
"Are you sure? There's not much room."
You nodded, and he looked down at his own snow-soaked leathers. He grunted in disapproval and discomfort, reaching down and lifting the tight clothing from his body. You nearly gasped at the action, at the toned body that now faced you. Gods, he was beautiful.
He walked away briefly, presumably to gather his other change of clothes. He might have even cleaned up a bit, because when he appeared again, he looked clean and comfortable. And then he was reaching under the blankets to adjust where you laid.
His body sunk into the cushions of the sofa, and he gathered you into his arms until you were halfway on his chest, his soft and clean shirt overwhelming your senses as you curled into him.
You hummed. "This is nice."
His arms were loose around you, but his hand was resting purposefully curled around your side, his fingers inching over onto your abdomen in a protective and comforting gesture. As if he could take your pain away with just a touch.
"Try to rest. We should be able to get back to Velaris in the morning."
You pushed away the pain radiating through your body, the disorientation and dizziness, and instead focused on the warm muscled body underneath you. The way he encased you, the way he made you feel safe and at peace despite your current state. The way he cared for you.
You would tell him soon -- how you felt.
But for now, you buried your face deeper into his chest, your body falling lax against him. For now, you would rest and savor this moment.
For now, you would pretend like he was doing this because he loved you too. And you held onto that until sleep took your pain away.
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luvelve · 8 months
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˚ · . lucky strike - c. seungcheol
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summary: your first time giving head to anybody and lucky for you, that anybody happens to be your boyfriend seungcheol. you’re kinda nervous because unlike you, this isn’t his first time.
pairing: bf!seungcheol x afab!reader
genre: smut (18+ minors dni!)
wc: 2.9k+ (got carried away again :<)
warnings/tags: making out, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, lots of praise, softdom-ish!cheol, shy & inexperienced reader, bigdick!seungcheol, mentions of food & alcohol, seungcheol & reader are a bit tipsy, use of petnames (baby, angel, pretty), throatfucking, gagging, crying, finger sucking, cum eating
a/n: this is tiktok’s fault for always showing me “he’s the type to talk u through it” type of men. and to me, that sounded like none other than choi seungcheol !! so here we are. forgive me for any warnings i may have missed :< as always, likes/reblogs/feedback are highly highly appreciated ok bye <3
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it’s been bugging you for weeks now. it first crossed your mind when you and seungcheol were driving home from a night out with close friends and it just dawned on you how you and seungcheol haven’t done anything yet. well, aside from making out.
seungcheol had told you from the beginning of your relationship that he wanted to take it slow with you. he didn’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. he also told you that things would fall into place eventually and that there was no need to rush. you loved that about him.
but, being the massive over-thinker that you are, you also can’t help but compare yourself to your other girlfriends who have been in longer relationships and what they have possibly already done with their boyfriends.
you feel like you’re ready to do more with seungcheol and that you’re not just pressured by the people around you. you so badly want to bring this up to him but every time you try, you end up steering away from the topic.
the wall clock reads twenty minutes past nine; it’s a friday night and you and seungcheol are in his apartment already in your pyjamas when you should be dressed for a fancy dinner, stuffing yourself with pasta and wine somewhere in hongdae.
it’s been snowing nonstop these past few days and even on the one day that you and your boyfriend reserve every week to go on a dinner date, whether it be at the fanciest restaurant seungcheol can get a reservation at or the mcdonald’s just a few blocks down from his apartment, mother nature just won’t let up.
the two of you were left with no choice but to cook the ramyeon in seungcheol’s pantry. you also thought it’d be a good idea to bust out the remaining bottles of peach and grape flavored soju that had been left over from your camping trip over a month ago.
that was all over an hour ago, soup bowls and chopsticks long forgotten on the table, soju bottles empty, with some random sitcom playing on netflix in the background. you now find yourself on the couch straddling seungcheol’s lap, with your lips heavy on his. both of his hands resting on your waist, just above the band of your his boxer shorts.
breathy moans erupt from the base of his throat and it makes you dizzy. his plump cherry lips find your ear, your jaw, and your favorite spot: your neck.
"baby..." he whispers in between kisses, his hot breath against your skin sends shivers down your spine. all you can do is look at him with heavy-lidded eyes and continue kissing him, but this time sloppier and more desperate. seungcheol notices this and matches his pace with your own, your tongues fighting for dominance.
you don't know if its just you or the alcohol that's in your system, but you know that you want to do more than just kiss seungcheol tonight. plus the fact that you can practically feel his bulge growing under you isn’t helping either.
"nng.." you groan, breaking away from his lips momentarily and resting your forehead on his. your jaw falls slightly open, trying to find the right words to say and immediately, there's worry and confusion painted on seungcheol's face.
"baby, what's wrong?" he says in a hushed manner, his right comes up to your cheek.
“angel, did i do something? hey, you can tell me. hmm?” he adds, not breaking eye contact with you. he carefully fixes his position on the couch, not wanting to bother you.
“i… i-uhh…” you cut yourself off, you’re not nervous but you do want to be careful of how you say it. seungcheol looks at you with his big wet baby cow eyes, silently telling you that you can tell him anything.
“okay… so i couldn’t be more grateful for you wanting to take things slow with the both of us. i mean, really. a-and while i love love being with you like this.. like this close to you…” you trail off, hoping he understands or at least has a bit of an idea of where this is going. you kinda hate how he’s not breaking eye contact, you can practically feel his gaze burning holes into your skin.
“mhmm…” he hums in agreement, biting down on his lower lip as he tries to suppress a smile. he does know where this conversation is going but he wants to hear it from you. his hand falls to the small of your back and he caresses gently, you can feel the callouses of his hands through the thin fabric of your sleeping shirt.
“i feel like i’m ready to… you know… do more with you.” you add, feeling your cheeks and ears heat up. you slouch so you can hide in the crook of seungcheol’s neck but he stops you from doing so. “hey hey, i wanna see your face.”
“so is that what my pretty girl really wants, hmm?" he exhales, the sweet look on his face now wiped away. he sits a bit upright, looking at you with dark eyes. you've never seen him this enamored by you, almost like he's hypnotized, and you haven't even done anything yet.
you only give him a slight nod, your breathing getting heavier, feeling like your heart's about to jump out your chest. again, you don't know what's gotten into you but downing soju in such little time definitely fuels what you're about to do next.
you move your hands from seungcheol's chest and onto his shoulders for stability as you rock your hips back and forth. you start slow and then pick up the pace when you see him lean back onto the couch and close his eyes for a few seconds with his jaw slightly open. you can feel his length get harder each passing second and it sends a pool down your panties.
you lean in to kiss him on the spot near his ears and on his neck and this sends shockwaves through his entire body. he feels like his dick is about to explode and all he wants to do right now is pick you up and lay you onto your stomach so he can have his way with you. but, for now he wants to savor this moment with you.
“mmh, just like that, angel.” he says softly, draping one arm over the couch and the other still holding on to your hips to help keep you stable. his words make you feel good, reassuring you that you’re doing something right despite never having done this before.
your right hand then leaves his shoulder and reaches down to massage the growing bulge under his sweatpants. you look down at him with hooded eyes, hand palming over his cock that’s dying to be sprung free.
“baby, can i put it in my mouth?” you ask. seungcheol’s turned on but also completely thrown off because if anything, he wanted to taste you first. aside from wanting to throw you around and bully his length into you, he’s always dreamt of being in between your thighs and tasting your sweet juices all while you tug at his hair as his name rolls of your tongue.
"i-uhh, baby are you sure you wanna do this? he replies, pushing his own fantasies aside first because he only wants to do more with you only if you're sure you want to. "yeah, i know i wanna do this. i've thought about it for quite some time now." you clarify. and that’s enough for seungcheol.
“okay, angel. i just wanted to hear it from you again." he claims, eyes fixated on yours. he quickly catches your lips for a deep kiss, you can feel the want that radiates off of him. he then interrupts, "although i was hoping that i'd be the first to... go down on you."
while his offer does sound nice and tempting, the thought of you being naked for the first time in front of seungcheol does intimidate you a little bit. not to mention that he's your first boyfriend. you think that it'll help ease your nerves and make you more comfortable if he goes first. a win-win situation, you tell yourself.
"well, i really like how that sounds... but i'm just super a little shy to.. y'know. be naked and all." you admit, struggling to maintain eye contact with him. seungcheol doesn't know whether to be mad, disappointed, or annoyed at himself because you feel this way. he thinks that he may have failed at being your boyfriend because you don't feel entirely comfortable around him. you immediately notice the shift in his face and quickly say something, "and it has nothing to do with you, i promise! it's just... i-i've never done this before." you run your thumb over the pout that's slowly forming on his lips.
you further explain the win-win situation that you came up with and seungcheol quickly processes your words and doesn't feel too bad about it anymore.
"so... will you let me?" you add, referring to your question earlier. he doesn't even have to think about it, and immediately agrees. "baby, i'd be stupid to not say yes."
"i'm gonna need a little bit of help though..." you whisper, looking at him with dark eyes and once again reaching down to continue palming his clothed cock as if nothing happened. "don't worry angel, i got you. we can go slow, yeah?" his voice breathy, and at this point he's already putty in your hands.
you're quick to get off seungcheol's lap and get on your knees in front of him. you're feeling nervous but also excited at the same time and so you reach for the band of his sweatpants to pull them down. he sees this and helps you, his hands hovering over yours as you do so.
despite this being your first time, there's still desperation in your actions. the way your dainty little fingers grab hold of his sweatpants and the way you look at seungcheol. as you pull his sweatpants down, you fail to muffle a gasp. fuck, he's bigger and thicker than you imagined. you already know that it's going to be a struggle holding him and putting him in your mouth. you feel your panties getting soaked at the sight of his throbbing cock in front of you.
seungcheol sits and watches you eagerly, his thick thighs spread out for you and his length already coated with precum. you sit on your heels, still admiring how heavy his cock is. "something wrong, baby?" he furrows his eyebrows, his eyes locked on yours. you don't know how else to put it so you tell him straight, "nothing, you're just... big."
he grins and even laughs a little, "i know you can take it." and so you do, you take the base of his cock into your hand and attach your lips onto his tip. you lower your head to get more of him into your mouth but you struggle to do so. you’re not entirely sure that what you’re doing is correct but you continue your actions. you come back up to swirl your tongue around his tip and seungcheol closes his eyes, "mmh, fuck. just like that, angel. slowly." he's so turned on by the sight in front of him that he can't even bring himself to close his eyes for too long.
he leans forward to gather your hair to one side and to press a quick kiss to your lips, practically tasting himself. you don't stop pumping his cock and so he moans into the kiss, feeling the vibrations erupt from his throat. he leans back onto the couch, and your mouth is wrapped around him again. your hand is settled at the base of his cock, stimulating him as much as you can while you cover his tip in spit. "use both hands, baby." he suggests, and so you do.
seungcheol watches as your hands and mouth move up and down in harmony and it's taking everything in him not to cum right now with your mouth so pretty around his throbbing cock. you take more of him into your mouth and your eyes are welling up trying to do so. his tip hits the base of your throat and he feels it when you gag. he expects you to stop but instead you keep him there for a few seconds until you have to gasp for air and you feel his body shudder at your actions. "angel, you're sure this is your first time?" he asks, gathering just enough breath.
"mhmm.." you swallow, looking up at him with sweet and not so innocent eyes, shooting him a shy smile. you're hit with a wave of confidence by seungcheol's words. he quickly lifts his left hand to push his thumb into your mouth, wanting to feel your tongue. he feels selfish, as if you sucking him off isn't already enough, but he just has to. you follow him by sucking on his finger without hesitation, doing the same things that you were doing to his cock a few moments ago. "fuuck, you're so pretty like this." he thanks his lucky stars because he has absolutely no idea what he's done to deserve you and what you’re doing to him right now.
your mouth returns to his cock, where your hands are still stroking him up and down. you make it your mission to make him cum tonight, wanting to see him all breathy and speechless. your hands and mouth increase their speed, and so does seungcheol's breaths. you can tell he’s close because his chest is rising and falling faster and you’re pretty sure the neighbors can hear the lewd noises spilling from his mouth. you wrap your mouth around him again and again, your head bobbing up and down while you look at him through your long lashes, slowing down your pace for a few seconds to tease him just a bit. where the hell did she learn to do that? he thinks to himself.
all seungcheol wants to do now is pick you up and throw you onto the couch so he can return the favor, but he wants to give this to you. he wants you to finish what you started, because he knows it’ll make you feel good. “taking me so well, baby. doing so good f’me.” the praises rolling off his tongue as he runs one hand through his hair.
seungcheol can feel himself getting closer and closer to his high and so your hands work double time twisting his cock. you spit on his tip and sink your head down, his cock bottoming in your throat again. as you come back up for air, he quickly bucks his hips up to chase the feeling as he’s on the brink of his orgasm. you can’t help but let out a small choke with tears falling from your eyes. “-m sorry, angel. couldn’t help it.” he quicky apologizes. “s’okay…” you reply with a sweet smile.
“hmm fuck, i’m gonna cum. you ready for me, angel?” he trails off, taking control as he strokes himself and his length just inches from your face. you watch him as his big hand goes up and down his cock at an erratic pace. you lift your hands up to rest them on his knees but seungcheol has other plans in mind. “uh-uh, hands on your sides.” he says firmly, and you comply. he wishes he could take a picture of you right now, obeying him and being his good girl.
“open your mouth.” seungcheol adds, his demeanor now completely different but you love that he has two different sides to him when it’s just the two of you behind closed doors. your jaw quickly falls into an ‘o’ and soon after, seungcheol reaches his high. he feels his orgasm throughout his entire body, fireworks shooting down all the way to his ankles. his vision goes white and his body writhes in pleasure. white ribbons of his cum shoot out from his tip and onto your face and in your mouth. you feel the warm liquid on your tongue and you don’t know whether to spit or swallow.
you close your mouth just enough that your lips don’t touch, the salty liquid resting on your tongue. you wait for seungcheol to come down from his high, his breathing getting slower as his hand moves from his cock and onto his thigh. your chest swells with pride because you couldn’t believe what you just did to him. your eyes are focused on him as he leans forward, “you can spit or swallow baby, it’s up to you.” he says, and you feel his breath fan over your face as he brings his hand up and uses the pad of his thumb to wipe off the cum that’s on your cheek and just below your lip.
you finally close your mouth and swallow his salty release, completely tasting him. he watches as your adam’s apple bobs up and down as you do so. “good girl.” he comments, ultimately sending butterflies to your stomach. seungcheol then wastes no time to connect his lips with yours, tasting a little bit of himself. this time around, you’re the one moaning into the kiss and biting his lower lip. he deepens the kiss, holding your cheek to get better access. it’s not rushed though, it’s one that says ‘thank you’ for giving me the best head of my life.
he pulls away and you feel his arms at your sides, pulling you up. he slots you between his thighs, your knees sinking down onto the couch and he looks up at you. “your turn?”
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© luvelve — please avoid copying, reposting, revising and/or translating my work on any platform.
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shadowdaddies · 5 months
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Omgomg-
Can you do an Az x Summer Court reader with soft, white, feathered wings where she's like cleaning her feathers(a very intimate act) and Az walks in, there's some flustered blushing and whatnot, and then he offers to help and they clean their wings together??
OMG this is so cute I'm cryin 😭 I had so much fun with this, you're the best and ily thank you for the request angel!!!💜
Wings of Desire
Azriel x Reader
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Sent on mission by Tarquin to work with the Night Court on joining your armies with the Illyrians, Rhysand had allowed you to visit the camps with his spymaster. After a long day of observing training, the both of you flew to where you would be staying while in Illyria. You followed Azriel, landing in front of a small cabin on the far northern border of Prythian. You weren’t even sure if you were still on the continent anymore, shivering at the cold unlike that which you’d ever experienced.
Born in the Summer Court, the heavy snow during Night Court winters was unfamiliar to you, and made flying difficult. Unlike the Illyrians’ wings, which were bare and ideal for flight in freezing temperatures, the delicate feathers of your bone white wings abhorred the cold. 
The stiffness in your wings spread throughout your body, teeth chattering as you forced your legs through the snow to the open door Azriel held for you, an amused smile playing on his lips. Cauldron, those beautiful lips. Your eyes trailed from those lips, down his body as the spymaster heaved in breaths. You were glad to see you weren’t the only one tired from the flight.
As soon as you made it through the doorway, heat seeped into you, a deep comfort settling over your bones. You turned to Azriel, that same smile tugging at his mouth as he seemingly read your thoughts. “Magic. Rhys keeps the place a comfortable temperature, so it’s warm even in the winter.” Enchanted by the unexpected comforts of the cozy cabin, you walked into the kitchen area, taking in the surroundings. 
All of the walls of the cabin were painted, five sets of eyes lining the hallway at the top of the stairs. You scowled at the silvery eyes that seemed to follow you, wings twitching behind you at the uncomfortable feeling, until you reached a familiar set of hazel eyes at the end. A soft smile graced your features, suddenly feeling safe under the watchful eye of Azriel. 
You turned to question the spymaster about the artwork when a cup of hot chocolate appeared on the counter in front of you. Gasping, you jumped back and collided with the shadowsinger. A rare, soft laugh escaped his lips, and you felt as though you might melt at the sound. Scarred hands gently grabbed your arms, helping stand you upright as he leaned over you and grabbed the cup to place in your hands. “The cabin is sentient, so it will supply you with whatever you ask, within reason. Or whatever it thinks you need... In this case, hot chocolate.” 
You blushed, taking a sip of the warm drink and moaned at the rich taste. Azriel’s eyes were dark as he watched you lick the chocolate from your lips, the spymaster clearing his throat as he quickly looked away from you. Your wings shuddered at his attention, and a wince left you at the movement of the sore muscles beneath. 
Shadows curled around Azriel’s own wings, smokey wisps circling his ear as he studied your feathers. “The house will run a bath for you, so you can clean and warm your wings if you wish. Second door on the left.” Almost too distracted by the alluring darkness swirling in front of you, it took a moment to register what Azriel was saying. “Oh, yes. Thank you, Az,” you murmured, setting down the cup as you turned to make your way upstairs for a much needed bath. 
Entering the room, you found a spacious bed - something unusual in your court, as most there did not have wings. But you supposed it was a necessity with the large Illyrians who often stayed here - Azriel in particular had the largest set of wings you had seen on anyone. 
Stripping down, you padded into the bathroom where dim faelights lit the area. A bath was already filled, lavender aromas drifting from the steamy waters of the tub. You giggled, feeling gleeful as you skipped over to the tub and sank beneath the surface. You let out a quiet moan at the feeling, your tired muscles finally rewarded after a long day.
You looked around the tub, searching for anything to use to clean your wings. Because they were feathers, you had to use a long handle to brush between them when you bathed. As Illyrians had bare wings, you should have assumed that they would not have such difficulty washing their own wings. You huffed out a frustrated breath, attempting to reach over your shoulder in awkward angles to find the remaining dirt and snow that had worked its way in your wings.
A knock sounded on the bathroom door, Azriel calling out to you. “Hey, I felt a tu- I felt like you might need something. Is everything okay in there?” Your eyes welled with frustrated tears, humiliated that the Night Court spymaster should find you like this. “Everything is fine, Az. I’ll be okay.” You choked on the last word, and Azriel swore under his breath as he kicked the door open. 
“Something is wrong. Please tell me how I can help, or I won’t be able to sleep,” he said, looking everywhere around the room except at you. A small laugh escaped you at his attempt at chivalry. “You can look at me, Az. I’m not shy. I just can’t reach the dirt on my wings.” A sniffle sounded through the air as you looked at the shadowsinger, whose gaze was only fixed on your dirty, crumpled wings as you trembled in the tub. He swallowed, more nervous than you had ever seen him as Azriel whispered, “I can help you. If- if that is okay.”
You nodded without hesitation. The social taboos of how intimate touching wings was didn’t matter to you in that moment, as you were desperate for Azriel’s healing touch. The shadowsinger nodded, moving behind the tub as he awkwardly reached towards your wings. “Um, how should I-?” 
You turned around, unable to stop your laughter at the Night Court’s spymaster hunched over the edge of a bathtub. “You can get in, Azriel. No offense, but you could use a bath too,” you teased, wrinkling your nose for dramatic effect. He scoffed, his weight shifting between his feet as he considered. “Okay,” Az murmured, looking at you to turn around before he undressed.
You rolled your eyes at the nearly six hundred year old male’s shyness, but turned around anyway, scooting towards the other end of the tub to make room for him. You silently marveled at how large the bathtub was as well, another luxury you were not used to. Your thoughts were interrupted by the water moving as Azriel silently entered the bath. 
Clearing his throat, he asked, “so, how is the best way to wash them?” You smiled to yourself before handing him a rag. “Just anywhere that you see dirt, if you could use the washcloth or your hands - whatever is easiest - to wipe it away. It usually gets stuck higher up and between feathers.” 
You heard his deep inhale from behind as he brought the washcloth over your wings, biting your lip to keep from moaning at the feeling. After awhile of Azriel using the washcloth, he whispered in a shaky voice, “I think I need to use my hands to get the rest.” You nodded your consent, peeking over your shoulder to see the focused male with his brow furrowed as he lathered soap on his scarred hands. This time when his hands made contact with your wings, you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you. 
He pulled back quickly, eyes and shadows wildly searching for any sign of harm. “Are you okay? I’m so sor-“ You cut him off with a breathy laugh. “No, Az, it’s fine. They’re just... sensitive. I’m not hurt.” You promised, looking into those hazel eyes as you swore to him. Azriel nodded, continuing his work with even softer care now, you biting your li until it bled to keep your moans from frightening him away. 
“Okay, they’re looking beautiful and pristine as ever,” Azriel announced after awhile, one finger skirting the outside of your right wing as he spoke. You huffed a thank you, both relieved and heartbroken that it was over, when it dawned on you. “Do... you need help with your wings, Azriel?”
It was quiet for a moment, the question weighing heavy in the air before Azriel responded, “yes, I would greatly appreciate that.” The both of you turned around, his broad wings on display for you in the tub as he now faced the other edge. You gently washed his wings - admittedly much easier and faster than your own. He was silent the whole time - except for when you brushed a large vein on his left wing - one groan sounding from him that you kindly ignored. It was an unspoken understanding that neither of you would admit, that Azriel did not need help washing his wings. But something in your chest called you to him, to care for him in the most intimate of ways.
While you dragged it out for as long as you could, the bathwater eventually grew colder and Azriel’s wings could not be much cleaner. The two of you accepted that the moment was over, exiting the bath as you donned your towels. Azriel picked up his leathers, slowly making his way towards the door when you blurted out, “stop.” 
He slowly turned, eyeing you cautiously while you scrambled to find a reason for him to stay. “I - um, I don’t know the area as well as you, obviously... Would you mind staying in here tonight? The bed has plenty of room.” With a deep breath, you admitted, “I would feel safer with you.” Azriel smiled at you, a glowing feeling tugging in your chest at the sight as he made his way towards your bed, settling under the covers.
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Part 2 | Part 3
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punkshort · 1 month
Text
i know who you are | 4. the others
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Winter begins to wrap its arms around Jackson, filling the town with snow and a nasty flu. Joel takes you to meet Ben and Lisa, and you finally discover more about your past.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, amnesia, sad!joel, pining, sexual tension, slow burn, jealousy
WC: 9K
Series Masterlist
You looked happy.
Ever since you began working at the infirmary, you seemed happier. Like you were grateful to have a purpose. A way to contribute. To give back to the community that supported you.
You smiled more and you didn't shy away from him as much as you used to and it gave Joel hope. Every time you saw him and greeted him with a smile or said goodbye with a squeeze of his shoulder, it made his heart flutter. It's been weeks. Months, technically. But he was making some progress.
It was the first snowfall of the season and it put you in an even better mood than usual. Your face was pressed up against the window as he tended to the fire behind you, and you watched as the big, fluffy flakes of snow fell from the sky, coating Jackson in a perfect blanket of pure white.
"I didn't get much snow where I'm from," you told him over your shoulder. He knew that already, but he humored you.
"That so?"
"Mhmm. When I was a kid, though, we got hit with this freak storm. No one knew what to do. No one owned shovels or snow blowers or any of that, so we were all stuck inside our houses until the storm ended and everything melted," you said, turning away from the window so you could curl up on the couch, then pausing for a moment before tilting your head to the side. "Did I tell you this already?"
Yes, he thought, but he shook his head, eager for you to continue. He just loved hearing you talk, no matter what you said. Besides, if you were expected to rebuild your relationship, sharing your past would naturally be part of that, so he encouraged you to tell stories, even if he's heard them before.
"So, what happened?" he asked, putting the poker back in the stand and getting up with a groan, his knees cracking a bit before he settled in on the other end of the couch.
"Well, the power went out," you said, and he could hear the excitement in your voice, delighted to be telling him something you thought he didn't already know, and it made his heart swell. "So we didn't have any heat or any way to cook our food. We set up camping tents in the middle of our living room and slept in there with, like, five blankets each. And we lived off pop-tarts and granola bars and peanut butter sandwiches for two days til the power came back on."
"Two days?" Joel repeated, and you nodded.
"Yeah, but it was fun. As a kid, you know? I'm sure my parents were freaking out but me and Matty were excited. We played board games and ate by candlelight and told ghost stories," you said wistfully, your eyes looking miles away. "We talked about that for years," you finished softly, and Joel smiled.
"I didn't get much snow where I'm from, either," he told you, and your eyes met his again.
"Texas, right?" and he nodded. "Did you live there your whole life?"
Something deep inside him sparked with a mix of nerves and excitement. It felt like you were meeting all over again, and while it was under less than ideal circumstances, he couldn't help but feel those butterflies you feel when you first meet someone new.
"Yep, my whole life. Tommy, too, except for when he was in the army."
"Were you in the army?" you asked, but he quickly shook his head.
"Nah. Wasn't my scene. Besides, I had Sarah."
"Oh, right," you said, feeling stupid for asking. You dropped your attention to your hands, which were twisted in your lap, as you thought about your next question.
"How old was she?" you asked quietly, still looking down and avoiding his gaze, but you heard him take a deep breath.
"She was twelve when she died," he told you, his words hanging heavy in the air and he could see the conflict in your face as you tried to figure out a way to learn more about him without reopening old wounds. "It's okay, I don't mind talkin' 'bout her."
"Did we used to talk about her?" you asked him curiously, finally looking up to meet his gaze.
He shrugged. "Sometimes. But not at first. Still hurt too much back then, y'know?"
"Yeah," you breathed, your mind now drifting to thoughts of your own family. Were you together when they died? Did you see it? If so, was it some sort of sick twist of luck that you now couldn't remember?
"What was your favorite thing to do together?" you asked, watching as his eyes found a fixed point on the wall while he considered your question.
"My favorite thing was hiking. Hers was goin' to the movies or the mall, most likely," he said with a soft chuckle. "I didn't mind, though. I was just happy she still wanted to be seen with her old man at that age. Makes me wonder if she felt bad for me or somethin'."
You furrowed your brow, confused. "Why would she feel bad for you?"
He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "I didn't date much. Had a few poker buddies but I mostly spent my time with Tommy. Just worked so hard back then that I was too tired to do much else."
"And you were a contractor?" you asked, trying to remember the small pieces of information you picked up over the last two months. He nodded.
"Yeah, me and Tommy had our own business. That was a lifetime ago. Can't imagine doin' that kind of work now, not with my back," he said with a smile.
Joel's eyes flicked to the window over your shoulder, watching as the snow continued to come down, the window panes growing foggy in the corners. "Looks like we ain't goin' anywhere for a while," he said, changing the subject. You followed his gaze and nodded.
"What about Ellie? Is she okay back there?"
"Yeah, she'll be alright. She could make it up to the house if she got too cold," he assured you.
So, you were essentially snowed in. All alone.
You could feel his eyes on you as you watched the fire and you wondered if he was thinking about an alternate reality. One where you didn't have an accident. Where you remembered everything. One where you loved him the way he so obviously loved you, and what you might be doing differently in that very moment. You had a feeling your hunch was correct because he stretched his arm across the back of the couch and subtly inched a little closer towards you, the worn cushions dipping from his weight and causing your leg to bob.
Your body stiffened and your heart suddenly felt like it was being crushed in your throat. He was so patient, you had to give him credit. It couldn't be easy for him, and although you could finally admit to yourself that you found him attractive, you still didn't think you trusted him enough to take things any further. Not yet. Not when you still had so many questions. Your eyes drifted up to meet his and as you expected, he was watching you closely. Carefully. Trying to read you the same way you were trying to read him. The problem was, every time he looked at you that way, with his eyes all soft and filled with adoration, you could only think about what he was hiding. What did he lie about? And why was he so hesitant for you to meet Ben and Lisa?
Joel leaned in a fraction and his fingers tightened their hold on the back of the couch. He wanted to kiss you. He's wanted to kiss you ever since that day in the field right before that clicker ruined the moment. And with the soft glow from the fire and the snow falling silently outside, it felt like the perfect moment. He was terrified of making things worse after he finally felt like he made some progress, but it was killing him. He missed having you so fucking much, sometimes it felt like it actually caused him physical pain. Like his chest would explode one day.
He swallowed nervously and inched a little closer and you panicked. Just as he was about to say something, you cut him off.
"Do you wanna play a board game?"
He raised his eyebrows in surprise and you gave him a nervous smile.
"Sure," he replied, watching as you jumped off the couch to look through the games stacked on the bookcase. He groaned inwardly and rubbed his chin when you bent over and he had to force himself to look away before his body reacted, praying you didn't pick Twister.
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It took two days but the snow finally stopped. Ellie did eventually make her way to the house by the second day, simply because she was bored, so you helped Joel make a vegetable soup while Ellie set up the Monopoly board in the living room. You didn't have all the pieces, but you had enough, and what you didn't have you supplemented with buttons.
You didn't realize it; too caught up in cooking and the joy it used to bring you, but you and Joel worked together seamlessly in the kitchen. He chopped up zucchini while you diced onion and watched the pot on the stove that was cooking up noodles, slipping past each other to get to the sink and the cupboards and it all just felt so fucking normal that it made his chest ache. He wanted to draw your attention to it. He wanted to take you by the shoulders and say See? See how good we are together? But he didn't. He bit his tongue and bided his time until you came to that conclusion on your own, just like the first time.
But the first time was different. At least back then, you showed him affection. You kissed him and held him and shared your body with him and although you didn't want much more, not at first, eventually you did. And those moments in his bed were enough to hold him over until you opened your eyes and saw what was right in front of you.
He was selfish. He knew it was wrong to want you like that right now, but he wanted all of you, not just physically. He yearned to know what was going on behind your eyes, what you were thinking and feeling. What you thought of him. But if you would maybe just let yourself fall asleep in his arms on the couch while you read in front of the fire, or let him kiss you, just once, then maybe you would see it again. Feel it again.
"What the hell does a purple button mean?" you asked with a giggle, holding up the smooth, round plastic between your fingers.
"It's a hotel, duh!" Ellie said, grinning and rolling her eyes.
"Wait, why am I goin' to jail?"
"You rolled doubles three times in a row!" you told him, and you and Ellie bent over laughing at the confused expression on his face.
He made a disgruntled noise and moved his token to the corner of the board as he watched you and Ellie giggling and wiping tears from your eyes and fuck, it was nice. In another world, he would have made some joke about you being the one in handcuffs and maybe later he would have followed through with it and tied your wrists to the headboard, burying his face between your thighs until you couldn't take it anymore.
But instead, he just watched two of the people he loved most in the world have fun, the orange glow from the fire flickering over your smiling faces while the snow finally came to a stop outside.
Ellie had trekked back to the garage once the game was over. It was late, you looked tired, but he still suggested putting a movie on. He wasn't ready to let you go. He hated going to bed all alone. You seemed to consider his offer for a moment before you shook your head and yawned, and although he knew that would likely be your answer, he still felt his heart sink.
He walked you to your bedroom and as he was about to say goodnight, hoping to minimize the hurt by making it quick, you did something that surprised him. You pulled him into a hug, standing on your tiptoes, your chin resting on his shoulder with your arms wrapped around his neck, body pressed firmly against his and just as quickly as it happened, you pulled away. Joel was so stunned he wasn't sure he hugged you back, even though he stood cemented to the floor well after you went to bed, replaying the hug over and over, all he could remember was how he felt. And he went to bed that night with renewed hope blooming in his chest. Maybe you were finally coming around.
So the next morning when you asked him out of the blue if you could visit Ben and Lisa once the streets cleared of snow, he had a hard time finding a reason to say no. He should have known you wouldn't let it go, but he did hold out hope that maybe you moved on from the idea since it had been a few weeks when you last mentioned them.
He agreed, of course, not wanting to ruin the delicate foundation of your relationship. Besides, he already decided he would go with you and make sure they didn't tell you anything you weren't ready to hear.
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The snow had melted enough where the road was visible again, but the snowbanks still piled high around the buildings and houses and you felt strangely nervous as you followed Joel down the street. He had finally agreed to take you to meet Ben and Lisa, and while you were grateful he didn't have the reaction he had the first time you mentioned them, you still wondered what caused that outburst.
You tried to convince yourself that maybe he was just tired and cranky that day, having just gotten back from patrol for the fourth day in a row. But something still felt... off.
"Wow, when Ellie said they lived on the outskirts, she wasn't kidding," you said, realizing you were reaching an edge of Jackson you had yet to explore.
"Yeah, they tend to keep to themselves," he replied without further explanation. He didn't seem agitated, but he definitely wasn't happy about going to see them. He seemed more quiet and subdued than usual.
Finally, you arrived at a quaint looking cottage tucked back from the road a ways. Like Ellie had said, it was small, but it looked cozy. You could see the smoke pluming from the chimney and you couldn't wait to warm up again.
There was no porch. Just a small roof over the front door and a folding chair that looked like it had seen better days. He knocked firmly on the door and after a moment, you heard light shuffling on the other side.
The door cracked open and you were greeted by a short woman around your age with dull, brown hair and bright green eyes. She saw Joel first and, like most people in town, she hesitated. But then she noticed you next to him and her expression changed. A wide smile stretched across her face and she said your name softly, then held her arms out for a hug.
"It's so good to see you," she said in your ear, giving you a tight squeeze before turning around and ushering you both inside. "Come in, come in, it's freezing out there. Ben! You'll never guess who's here!"
You both stepped inside and as you were slipping off your outerwear, you glanced around the small space. It was tight, but it was filled with warmth. The living room had two small, mismatched loveseats on either side of the stone fireplace. Two large bookshelves that were filled with so many books that the shelves were sagging stood on either side of the fire, and curiously you didn't notice a television anywhere in the room.
You heard a man's deep voice behind you say your name and you jumped in surprise. Turning around, you were pulled into another hug by who you could only assume was Ben. He was tall - taller than Joel - and you wondered how on earth such a small house could fit such a large man. He stepped away, his dark eyes glittering with his hands still on your shoulders, taking in your appearance as if you haven't seen them in years.
Maybe you haven't.
You were so focused on absorbing every little detail about the house and its residents that you didn't notice Joel's body stiffen next to you, his eyes glued to Ben's hands. And while Lisa seemed to have the same reaction to Joel that everyone else in town did, Ben, on the other hand, did not seem phased by his presence. In fact, he appeared pleased to see him. Once he dropped his hands from your shoulders, he stretched out a lanky arm and shook Joel's hand, giving him a kind smile which Joel had a hard time returning.
"What a wonderful surprise. Come, let's sit. Do you want coffee or tea?" Ben asked, his eyes drifting between you and Joel. You both shook your heads and Ben smiled warmly at you once again. Even though the living room was just a few feet away from the front door, Ben still rested his hand on your shoulder and guided you to one of the loveseats as if you might lose your way, only dropping his hold on you when he sat down across from you on the other one.
Joel eased himself down on the couch beside you, the space so small that he had no choice but to rest his leg against yours, and Lisa went to join Ben, the crackling fire between both loveseats warming you up right away.
"We heard you had an accident. How are you feeling?" Lisa asked, her voice so small and gentle compared to Ben's booming baritone.
"Better, thanks. But it's kind of why I'm here," you said, glancing over at Joel nervously, but he was staring silently at Ben, who still seemed unaffected.
Lisa tilted her head to the side and wrapped a hand around Ben's forearm, leaning into him a bit as she got more comfortable on the couch. You noticed for the first time a basket on the floor next to her feet filled with different colored yarn and half knitted projects tucked inside. "Oh?" she asked, then it seemed to dawn on her. "Oh! Is it... is it true? Do you really have memory loss?"
When you nodded, you noticed the flicker of pity across both their faces as they exchanged a somber look.
"I can only remember my life before the outbreak. My mom, dad and brother. I don't even remember what happened or how they died or how I managed to survive," you began, feeling yourself growing a little emotional. Joel must have sensed it in your tone because he squeezed your knee reassuringly, and when you glanced over at him, he had finally torn his eyes away from Ben to look at you with concern.
"It's been hard," Joel said, finally speaking up, addressing Ben and Lisa. "Lots of confusion, lots of missin' pieces. But she kept a journal. Turns out, she wrote 'bout you two, so that's why we're here," he finished, narrowing his eyes a bit at them.
"You wrote about us? How sweet," Ben said cheerily, running a hand through his dark blonde curls.
"Yes, but-"
"It wasn't anythin' that detailed," Joel said quickly, and you frowned at him. He sat back into the sofa and glanced over at you. "Right?"
"Yeah," you said slowly, dragging your eyes away from Joel and back to your hosts. "Just that we went fishing and it felt like old times," you continued, and they both smiled at the memory. The only sound in the room was the fire next to you, the wood popping loudly under the flames as you weighed your next question. "So I was hoping you might help tell me about myself before we arrived in Jackson. Is that... okay?"
Lisa shifted in her seat, a small smile still twitching at her lips as she gazed up at Ben, waiting for him to reply. He hesitated a moment and you thought you saw his eyes flicker to Joel before responding.
"Of course," Ben said, slapping the tops of his thighs, jostling loose Lisa's grip on his arm. He quickly picked her hand back up and brought her knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss, but your eyes were drawn to the unfamiliar symbol tattooed on the inside of her wrist, only made visible when Ben picked up her arm and her sleeve hung down.
"Can you tell me about when we first met?" you asked, figuring you should start at the beginning.
"Oh, what was it? Six or eight months after the outbreak, yeah?" Ben wondered aloud, looking to Lisa to confirm. She nodded and scratched her neck.
"Sounds about right."
You allowed yourself to feel a glimmer of excitement. There were two people right in front of you that could help fill in the blanks for the first five years after the outbreak, and you couldn't wait to hear more.
"We met in the Atlanta QZ," he began, but you quickly stopped him.
"QZ?"
"Quarantine Zone. All the major cities had 'em. Was meant to keep people safe from infected but the military ran most of 'em into the ground," Joel explained. "Treated people like cattle. Strict curfews. Barely enough rations to survive."
"It was awful," Lisa added solemnly.
"Was I alone?" you asked them, and Ben nodded. "Did I tell you anything about my family? How they died?"
Their eyes shifted to Joel for a moment before looking at one another.
"I thought you had said the infected got your mom on the first day. But your dad and brother..." Ben trailed off, looking down at his hands sadly. "They got caught out after curfew. It happened before we got there. They... were punished."
You frowned a little, looking to Joel to help shed some light on what Ben meant, but he was staring down at his feet.
"Punished?" you squeaked as your heart began to pound faster in your chest.
"Punishment for bein' out after curfew was death," Joel spoke up softly next to you.
You looked at all three of them, your eyes wide in disbelief. "Death? The military were killing people?"
"It was horrible. It's why we escaped," Lisa replied with tears in her eyes.
"Okay, then what?" you pressed, trying not to dwell too long on the thought of your father and brother being murdered by the very people who were supposed to protect them.
"After we escaped?" Ben clarified, and you nodded. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze. "We survived. Did what we had to do."
There it was again. Did what we had to do. The same thing Joel said when you brought up Lisa and Ben the first time.
You waited for him to elaborate but when it became apparent Ben had finished talking, you pushed him further. "Like what? What does that mean?"
"We laid low. Found some secluded spots in the wilderness and stuck it out for as long as we could," Lisa said, her eyes casually drifting between the two men. You looked at Joel, who was holding a steady glare at Ben and Lisa, but otherwise he was perfectly silent.
"For five years we just laid low? In the woods? The three of us?" you asked, and they could tell you knew they weren't telling you the whole truth. "What aren't you telling me? Did we do something bad? Did something happen?"
Joel shifted in his seat next to you but you kept your eyes pinned on Lisa and Ben, trying to read the expressions on their faces.
Ben was the first to fold. He dragged his eyes up to meet yours and gave you a half smile and shrug. "Yeah. I mean, everyone did bad things one time or another. It's impossible not to-"
"Like what?" you demanded. You could feel your anger building up now. "I'm not a child. Just tell me."
Ben sighed and looked at Joel once again, and this time you had enough.
"Why do you keep looking at him?"
Ben's eyes snapped back to you and he forced out a small chuckle, trying in vain to diffuse the tension in the room.
"You're our guests, so I'm looking at you both."
You weren't going to argue with him when it was clear he was looking at Joel for direction on what to say. It all made sense now. No wonder Joel didn't fight you on coming to visit them. He had planned all along to control the conversation and keep you in the dark and something inside you snapped.
Standing up from the couch suddenly, you looked down at Ben and Lisa, anger brimming in your eyes.
"Thanks," you spat, heading towards the front door. "Sorry to bother you both."
"It's no bother," Lisa said, her voice wavering as she followed you to the door. "Really. Stop by any time, it was nice to see you."
You scoffed and resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you shoved your boots and coat back on, doing your best to finish before Joel so you could get a head start back home.
Flinging open the door without another word, you took a deep breath and stormed down the street, the chilly winter air filling your lungs, trying to cool your anger from the inside out. But then you heard Joel's heavy footsteps crunching in the snow, hurrying to catch up to you, and your rage peaked again.
"You alright?" he asked when he found his place back by your side.
"No, I'm not alright," you seethed, staring straight ahead with your arms wrapped around your middle. "What was that back there?"
"What'dya mean?"
You skidded to a stop and glared at him, his cheeks pink from the cold and his chest rising and falling a little quicker than usual.
"You know what I mean. I'm not stupid, Joel. What don't you want me to know?"
He stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out how to respond.
"I'm not-"
"Don't bullshit me!" you yelled, and when you remembered you were in the middle of the street, you lowered your voice. "They were clearly scared of you. You didn't want them to tell me something. It was so obvious, Joel! I hit my head but I'm not fucking blind."
"I didn't ask them to say or not say anythin'," he said truthfully.
You stared at one another, both watching as your exhale mixed together, little clouds swirling in between you before rising above your heads and disappearing, each waiting for the other to break first.
"Maybe I should move out," you finally said, voice filled with sadness. His face fell instantly.
"Why?"
"You know why. I don't think I can trust you. How can I, when I can't even get a simple answer out of you?" What did he lie about?
If you had stabbed him in the chest, it would have hurt less. His gaze fell to the ground and he felt his throat begin to constrict. He had to do something. He couldn't lose you. So he told you a half truth.
"You and Ben used to be a thing," he said, and your jaw dropped in surprise.
"What?"
He clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes. "Before you came to Jackson. You and him were a couple."
You looked away from him, taking a minute to wrap your mind around what he just told you. You supposed it would make sense. It would explain why Joel was so weird about bringing you to see them. Maybe you misread the tension in the room. Maybe the tension was about something else entirely.
"That's why you were acting so strange? That's why you were staring him down?" you asked. His answer was still difficult to believe. It explained Joel's behavior, but it didn't explain what bad things you had done and why nobody seemed willing to tell you what they were.
He shrugged and rubbed his hands together. "Can we talk about this at home? I'm freezin'," he said.
The walk afforded you more time to think now that you had this new piece of the puzzle. Ben did seem like your type: he was handsome and kind, but if you and Ben were together in the past, where did that leave Lisa? They were clearly an item now. Wouldn't that have made for a strange relationship between the three of you? Perhaps that's why you didn't see them often.
Joel let you stew in silence for the walk home, fucking praying what he told you would be enough to keep you from following through with your threat. Why did it feel like every time he made some progress with you, something happened that fucked everything up?
Maybe he should have just let them tell you the whole truth.
No, that would have been bad. You didn't trust him enough yet. You said it yourself. And if you were willing to move out over something like this, you certainly would never speak to him again if you knew the whole story.
He needed to earn your trust first but it was so fucking hard when you wouldn't let him in. When you found out the truth the first time, you were already months into a relationship with him. You were already sleeping together, and while it didn't evolve into anything more until later, it still helped build your trust in him when he finally told you the truth.
He didn't have that with you now, and for the first time he began to doubt his ability to make you fall in love with him again.
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You huddled in front of the fire after the long walk home, the two of you remaining silent the entire way. Joel was in the kitchen, most likely avoiding you and your questions while you warmed up. You weren't even going to bother bringing up the topic again, but Joel surprised you by doing it himself.
"I'm sorry. 'Bout earlier," he said from the entryway. You turned from the fire to look at him. He looked worried. His eyes were wide and his brow was knit while his hands fidgeted at his sides.
"Why didn't you just tell me?" you asked, and he sighed.
"Dunno. Guess I was hopin' you'd let it go or change your mind," he said, ticking his jaw to the side.
"What would it have even mattered? I don't remember him, I don't remember what we had together. I certainly don't have feelings for him," you told him, sitting down on the couch and tucking your legs underneath you.
He looked around the room nervously as you waited for an answer that wasn't coming.
You sighed and rubbed your eyes. "If this is going to work, you need to be honest with me-"
"I was scared, alright?" he said abruptly. You watched him hang his head between his shoulders and take a deep breath before collapsing into the arm chair next to the couch. "I was scared you'd maybe remember him or..." he trailed off, finding it difficult to put into words what he was thinking. And although it wasn't the whole truth, it still was the truth. He was afraid this version of you would want someone like Ben and not like him.
He was afraid of losing you.
You seemed to understand because you didn't ask him to finish his thought. Instead, since he was opening up, you asked him something else that was bothering you.
"What did I do?"
He looked at you curiously, not following at first until you continued.
"Ben said I did bad things. We all did bad things to survive. What did he mean?"
Joel swallowed and thought about his answer for a moment. You sighed, growing impatient.
"You can't keep the truth from me forever. I'll find out one day, just tell -"
"You killed people," he told you, and you completely lost your train of thought. You searched his face as all of the air rushed out of your lungs, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.
"I killed people?" you repeated, your voice barely a whisper, and he nodded slowly. You felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes but you blinked them away. What kind of monster did you become?
"Innocent people?"
"Depends on who you ask," he said right away, almost as if he expected that question.
"What does that mean?"
He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully as he stared into the fire. "I told you. Everyone did what they had to do in order to survive. I know it's hard for you to understand what it was like, but there were a lot of bad people out there. A lot of bad fuckin' people. The military was outta control. There were revolutions and raiders and slavers." He paused and sniffed a bit, continuing to stare into the flames while you hung on his every word. "When I say you killed people... it ain't black and white. I killed people, too. Alotta people. When the whole goddamn world ends and all you got left is one or two people you care 'bout, you'll do whatever you gotta do to protect 'em. D'you understand?" he asked, finally dragging his eyes up to look at you.
You blinked, thinking about what he said, his words rolling around your head like pinballs.
"I think so," you said quietly.
He nodded, still pinning you with his stare. "We all made decisions. We made choices based on what we knew at the time and we did our best."
You nodded, your voice wavering a bit when you asked "Am I a bad person, Joel?"
His eyebrows pinched together and he leaned forward in his chair, wanting to reach out to you, comfort you and pull you into his arms, but he refrained. "No, baby. You ain't a bad person," he told you softly.
And you weren't sure why, but you believed him.
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The streets were quiet as you slowly made your way to the infirmary. You didn't start your shift until late in the morning and you didn't feel like joining Ellie at the dining hall for breakfast, so you stayed home, only getting out of bed when you heard Joel leave for patrol. He had already warned you the night before that he would be back later than usual due to the storm. Trails would likely be difficult to pass and nobody could predict if there would be damage at any of the outposts, but it was highly likely.
You didn't move out like you had threatened to. You didn't even know what you were thinking when you said that. Where would you have gone? The garage with Ellie? You didn't know anybody else. Not really. But even if you had, you saw the look in Joel's face when you said those words and even though you were so fucking angry with him, you still felt terrible for causing him pain.
On one hand, it seemed like he was just looking out for you, but on the other, his actions often came off as selfish. You had every right to know your past and what you did, and you were growing sick of Joel treating you like a child. Like you were too fragile to understand.
But at least you got it out of him. Even though you had to take extreme measures, you finally got him to tell you something truthful, and that was a positive step forward.
Lost in your thoughts, you weren't even paying attention when a man's voice called your name from across the street. You looked up after the third try and were surprised to find Ben waving to you from the tailor. You raised your hand in greeting and made your way over to the building.
"Hey," you said a little sheepishly, "about the other day, I'm sorry for how I acted-"
He shook his head and gave you a reassuring smile. "No need to apologize. All of this has to be so confusing for you. We understand."
You dropped your gaze to the frozen ground and dug your boot into the snow. "Thank you, I appreciate that. It's very frustrating, actually. I'm just trying to learn about myself and what's happened in the past ten years and I guess I took out my anger on you guys."
He waved you off and leaned against the doorframe of the tailor. "Don't worry about it. We were just happy to see you again."
And even though Ben was absolving you of your guilt, you somehow felt even worse. He was being so nice and you hardly felt like you deserved it. "Joel explained it to me, by the way. After we left your house he told me about us," you said, waving your finger back and forth between you.
"Ah," Ben said with a knowing smile as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I wondered as much. It was a very long time ago but Joel can be..." Ben trailed off and scratched his chin, "he can be a little protective, I suppose. He never really understood the nature our relationship."
You tilted your head to the side. "What do you mean?"
"It was just casual. He always thought there was something more," Ben said, meeting your eye. "But I promise you, there wasn't. At the time, we were just lonely and scared and looking for comfort. Neither of us was looking for anything more than that."
You nodded thoughtfully. "He did say we were a couple," you said, and Ben chuckled softly.
"I wouldn't even call it that. Truly. There were no hurt feelings. We just never had a connection past... y'know," he said with a shrug. You felt yourself flush a bit at the words he left unspoken and looked away. "But I'm glad he told you."
"Yeah, me too. I know his heart is in the right place, I just wish he would have told me about us and all the shit we did before I came to see you. Probably would have made the visit a little more pleasant," you said with a laugh, but Ben's face fell.
"He told you about what we did?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious. You sighed and nodded.
"Yeah, he told me I've killed people. It's been really hard to wrap my head around, but I'm trying to come to terms with it. He explained the world we live in now is not like the one I remember."
Ben raised his eyebrows in surprise and unfolded his arms. "Wow. I'm kind of shocked he told you about us and the Fireflies. That must have been really hard for you both."
You frowned and searched his face. "Fireflies?"
His body stiffened and his face paled when he realized his mistake. "Yeah. He told you about the Fireflies, right?"
You shook your head. "What are the Fireflies?"
"Shit," he muttered, pushing himself off the wall abruptly and clearing his throat. "I should get back to work. Just please forget I said anything, okay?"
"Ben, wait," you tried, but he disappeared back inside the tailor, leaving you standing in front of the door while more questions piled up.
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There seemed to be a bad flu being spread around town because the infirmary was busier than usual. You were grateful for the distraction, especially after your conversation with Ben. You had spent the better part of the afternoon rushing from exam room to exam room, cleaning up after each patient as quickly as you could so Nick could continue treating the revolving door of people coughing and sneezing in the waiting room. Nick had recommended you wear a bandana around your mouth and nose to hopefully keep you healthy, but you had a feeling it would just be a matter of time before you caught the same bug as everyone else. Still, you kept the bandana tied around your neck as you worked diligently. What you didn't expect, however, was the bit of anonymity the mask afforded you.
You were cleaning up exam room six when you heard a woman's familiar voice in the room across the hall. Nick had left the door cracked open after he ushered her inside, and she apparently had another woman in there waiting with her as you started to pick up on hushed pieces of their conversation.
You didn't intend to eavesdrop, but curiosity got the best of you when you tried to place her voice, and when you realized it was Angie, your hands froze and your body stilled, doing your best to not make any noise so you could listen.
"... going down there almost every night... matter of time... him."
"But what about... freak out."
You frowned, inching closer to the door as you tried to fill in the gaps in their conversation.
Then you heard Angie say your name clear as day and your eyebrows shot up. You pressed your back against the wall and held your breath.
"She doesn't even like him. That relationship is a ticking time bomb."
You silently gasped when you realized they were most certainly talking about you and Joel.
It wasn't even true. You liked Joel. You were attracted to Joel. You were even starting to trust Joel a little more, although you definitely had plans to ask him about the Fireflies. But you were still getting to know him and it was taking time. Was this girl talking about trying to steal Joel away from you? The idea made your stomach turn and anger flare deep in your chest.
You shocked yourself with your reaction. Steal Joel away? Since when did you begin to feel some sense of ownership over him? Were you jealous?
You heard Nick's voice leaving an exam room a few doors down and you quickly made yourself look busy. He sighed tiredly in the hallway as he flipped through some papers before pushing open the door to Angie's room. You were changing the bedding on the mattress when you heard Nick call your name and you quickly dropped the sheets to cross the hall.
When your eyes locked with Angie's, giving her a hardened stare, you swore you saw a flicker of fear before she forced a fake smile and coughed into her fist while her friend, one you recognized from the bathroom at the Tipsy Bison, nervously shifted her weight and looked away. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction when it became clear to the two girls that you had heard everything they said, and you were grateful you had your mask on so they couldn't see the corners of your mouth twitch.
"Would you mind grabbing a bag of cough drops and a jar of menthol from the supply cabinet?" Nick asked, completely oblivious to the shift in the air.
"Sure thing," you told him, turning on your heel to leave and allowing yourself to finally smile.
Joel might scare the rest of the town, but you sure as hell scared the shit out of Angie.
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Your shift at the infirmary went longer than expected. By the time you arrived home, you were exhausted and the sun was almost setting. So far you weren't feeling sick, but from what you had overheard all day, the symptoms came on quick, so you had already decided to call it an early night and get some rest. When you swung open the front door and found Joel hunched over the kitchen table, your plans went flying out the window.
He looked like he was on death's door. You had never seen him look so run down and pale. He didn't even open his eyes to look at you, he just kept them shut while he rubbed his temples and tried to stifle a cough, his backpack abandoned at his feet.
"Joel?" you called, toeing off your boots and hurrying over to him. You crouched down on the floor and pressed the back of your hand against his forehead. "You're burning up."
He groaned and cracked open one eye. "Feel like shit. Dunno what happened."
"There's a bad virus spreading around, the infirmary was slammed today," you said, pushing yourself up onto your aching feet to get him a glass of water. "Drink this and I'll heat you up some soup," you told him before heading towards the stove.
"You don't gotta-"
"Drink," you said firmly, cutting him off. He winced before picking up the glass and forcing down the cool liquid. Once you got the gas going on the stove, you grabbed an empty bowl and shoved your boots back on. "I'll be right back," you told him. He sat up a little straighter in his chair, about to ask where you were going but you already disappeared through the front door, returning seconds later with the bowl filled with snow.
"Lean back," you instructed, placing the bowl on the table. He did as he was told and closed his eyes, the lights from the kitchen ceiling making his head ache but when you pressed a handful of packed snow against his forehead, he groaned with relief.
"Oh shit, that feels good," he whispered as you tried to ignore the twinge between your legs at his low tone. He released a shaky breath and you watched as the snow began to melt, little trails of water dripping from his hair and down his scruffy cheeks. When it was nearly melted, you took your hand away and dumped the remnants in the sink, grabbing a towel and drying your hands on the way back. You pinched his stubbly chin delicately in your fingers and tipped his head towards you while slowly and gently wiping away the water from his face. When you finished, your eyes found his already boring into you and you felt a tingle shoot down your spine.
"Better?"
His gaze softened as he continued to stare up at you, searching your face quietly, making your heart begin to beat faster in your chest. You swallowed nervously and forced yourself to look away, and it was then he finally realized you had asked him a question.
"Yes," he murmured, "thank you."
You dragged your eyes back to his and gave him a small smile. "More?"
He didn't trust himself to speak. He just slowly nodded and watched with heavy lidded eyes as you scooped up another handful of snow. With your free hand, you slid your fingers behind his neck and through his hair, cupping the back of his head in your small hand before pressing the snow gently against his forehead once again. And even though he wanted to keep looking at you, he couldn't stop his eyes from fluttering shut at the cooling sensation, earning you another deep groan from his throat and causing your breath to stutter.
He heard it and opened his eyes.
You stared at each other, lips parted as the air began to thicken with tension. His eyes flickered over your face, noticing the way your pupils appeared bigger as you gazed down at him. He took a risk and slowly brought his hand up to rest on your side, watching you carefully for any sign that he should stop. He pressed his fingertips lightly into your hip, the fabric of your shirt bunching up slightly from the pressure.
You dropped your eyes to his hand and blinked rapidly, then opened your mouth to speak when you heard sizzling at the stove. You whipped your head around just as his soup began to boil over the pot.
"Shit!" you yelped, dropping the half melted snow onto the towel and racing over to the range. You twisted the knob off and put the pot on one of the unused burners and the liquid immediately simmered back down. "Sorry," you said, refusing to look at him as you started to gather a bowl and spoon, embarrassment burning your cheeks.
"Don't be," he replied, still leaning back in his chair in the same position you left him. He watched you fumble nervously in the kitchen and he had to suppress a smile.
Maybe he still had a chance, after all.
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Joel's temperature was a little high but nothing too concerning, so you pushed the fluids and he ate all of his soup and it helped put your mind at ease. You really didn't want to have to ask for ibuprofen unless it was absolutely necessary, especially considering how the same virus was hitting almost every house at the same time. You made sure to check on Ellie from her doorway, not wanting to risk her catching anything since she appeared to be fine, before helping Joel up to bed.
Once you followed him into the room and he turned on the light next to his bed, you realized you hadn't actually ever entered his bedroom before. Sure, you've walked past it when the door was open and glanced inside, but you never really looked. As he gathered some fresh pajamas and began to unbutton his flannel, you turned your back to him to give him some privacy and examined his bookshelf. Your eyes drifted over the titles on the spines of a handful of books, most of which you hadn't heard of before noticing a framed photograph sharing a shelf with his books. It was faded and a little torn, but you could still make out their faces. It was Joel - a far younger version of Joel - with his arm around a beautiful little girl with dark hair and eyes and a stunning smile. You felt your throat tighten when you realized who it was, and if you had any doubt, Joel's voice piped up behind you.
"That's Sarah."
You heard him shuffling his bedding around so you figured he was dressed.
"She's beautiful, Joel," you said, walking over to his side of the bed and popping the thermometer under his tongue one more time. "It's wonderful that you were able to find a picture of her. I wish I had some pictures of my family," you said sadly, watching the hands of the clock on top of his bookshelf tick, counting down the seconds until you could check the thermometer. "I would have loved for you to at least see them. I think you would have gotten along with my brother really well. Maybe too well," you added with a soft laugh, not realizing he was silently hanging on your every word as you continued to stare at the clock. "He was always looking out for me. Always protecting me, trying to shield me and it drove me nuts when I was younger, but as time went on, I understood it a bit more."
You pulled the thermometer out and checked the number. "Still the same," you told him, resting it on his nightstand.
"How much time?" he asked, and you gave him a confused look. "How much time did it take 'til you started to understand?" he clarified, and you realized what he was really asking.
"I don't know," you replied honestly, sitting on the edge of his bed with a sigh. "But I'm starting to... understand," you said, giving him a sideways glance. You really wanted to ask him about the Fireflies but seeing how sick he was, you decided to bring it up another time. His hand slipped out from underneath the covers and gently squeezed your knee.
"That's good," he said softly before furrowing his brow and turning his head to cough loudly into his pillow. You winced at how bad it sounded and rubbed his upper back. When the coughing fit passed, you handed him his water and he took a grateful sip.
"Do you need anything else before I go to bed?"
"Could you stay here?" he found himself asking before he could even think. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you struggled to answer. "Just 'til I fall asleep?"
"Oh," you replied, looking awkwardly around his rather sparse room. "Sure, let me just go wash up," you said, standing up from his bed. You were dead on your feet from your shift at work and you knew the next day wouldn't be any better, but you felt bad saying no, so you changed your clothes and grabbed one of the books Joel had found for you before dragging the chair from the corner of his room to the side of his bed.
"You can stretch out over there," he told you, pointing weakly to the other side of the bed before coughing into his closed fist. "I won't bite."
You smiled as you settled into the chair. "I'm alright, thanks," you said, opening your book and leaning back, trying to get comfortable. After a few minutes of reading, you looked up just to find him still watching you. You laughed and said "you need to get some rest if you want to kick this thing," then he grinned and finally closed his eyes.
You may not have been in bed with him, but you were close enough to help him relax and for the first time in months, he fell fast asleep within minutes.
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b00kdiary · 3 months
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Stay With Me | Rhysand
Rhysand x Reader
Rhysand reappears at the cabin four hours after he had gone on a mission- wounded and bleeding. Y/N has no choice but to help him, even if it means yanking out every ash arrow embedded in his wings by hand. But something Cassian once told her makes her re-think the line between pleasure and pain, and she will do anything to make it better for her High Lord.
‘Cassian said that the talon holds the most nerve endings, does that make it the most delicate to touch?’
Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image thoughts, blood and gore, and smut (Hint: Wing play)
MASTERLIST - 1 and 2
PART TWO
PART THREE
I couldn't stop pacing.
That's what I did when I was nervous, and on edge- I paced. Back and forth, back and forth, again and again, until I wore through the carpet and my entire body was thrumming with dread.
It had been four hours.
Four hours since Rhysand left to track those Hybern soldiers through the forest, hoping to be led back to their camp. For several weeks we've been dealing with Hybern forces infiltrating our land and yet we had no idea what they were planning.
It was the unknown that had made Rhysand go out tonight.
I had insisted I come, to help, to watch his back, something- but with the heavy snow and rain, he had been adamant that it would be easier to fly alone. Though I knew it was an excuse to keep me here, safe, and unharmed, while he was out there risking his life.
And now he was missing.
Four hours of silence and I was starting to feel violently sick with worry. I contemplated leaving the cabin, trekking on foot through the forest in search of him, but with the weather so furious and the fact he had been flying not walking, I knew it would be futile.
And Rhysand would kill me if he knew I had gone after him, especially when he had specifically instructed me to stay here.
"Stupid, arrogant High Lord," I cursed under my breath and despite the log fire crackling before me and the layers I wore, I still shivered from the brutal cut of the cold wind. My heart seized at the thought of Rhys out there in the brunt of it.
Hybern soldiers were ruthless and their hatred of the Night Court, of Rhysand was known. They could do anything to him; ash arrows, Faebane, dark magic, and Mother only knows what other weapons they have we don't know about.
"If he thinks I'm going to sit here like some kind of damsel," I scowl, my hands shaking as I yank on my discarded sword belt and daggers, "Then he is a bigger idiot than I thought possible."
I try and let my anger bubble over and overtake my fear as I make my way toward the heavy wood door, the sound of the whistling wind and perilous skies getting louder the closer I get to it. I'm trembling as I grip the handle, yanking it open with effort, the hinges stiff with the cold.
I stumble back a step at the sight of a tall male slumped against the door pane- blood pooled around his feet, stark against the white snow.
"Rhysand!"
All thoughts eddy from my head at the sight of him- his skin pale and dull, his midnight hair in disarray, his armour torn and filthy, and an agonised grimace lining his lips. A groan slips from him when my hands come to his chest, and my stomach turns at the warm blood that coats my palms.
"Cauldron, Rhys," I gasp, my throat closing as I stumble back into the cabin, his body weight half-leaning on me and every step he takes is slow and staggered, his face twisting as I guided him back with me. "What happened?"
"Hybern soldiers are assholes," Rhys grits out, a rough laugh slipping past his lips, but the sweet sound soon melts into a pained hiss when I turn so I can slam the door shut behind us- and I see why he's bleeding so goddamn much.
"Rhy- Rhys," I stutter, my fingers tightening into his suit, his muscles rippling under my touch, every breath he takes deeper and faster than the last. "The arrows, holy shit, there's so many-"
Five.
He had five arrows embedded into his back and wings.
"Really? I didn't notice," He grins, his heavy head lifting and those violet eyes meeting mine- though upon seeing the ire and worry on my face, that grin falters, "Hey, c'mon don't look at me like that, I'm alright-"
He sucks in a sharp breath of air, his eyes screwing shut when I begin to move back toward the sofa and I try not to let my body lock up when his hands fall to my waist and hips, long, ringed fingers digging into my flesh for leverage.
"Huh, I knew you wouldn't listen to me," He scoffs out a laugh, half-amused, half-breathless and my face burns with heat when he runs his hands idly down my sides, grazing pointedly over my sword belt and daggers. "You know it's an offence to disobey your High Lord, right?"
"Well since you're wounded and I'm the only one here to help," I grit out sardonically, ignoring how close his face is to mine as I guide his front down onto the sofa, careful not to touch his wings as I move behind him, "I'm sure you'll find a way to forgive me."
I frown at the amount of blood seeping out from his wounds, and I can feel how rigid his body is under my palms- he always was good at hiding his true emotions, masking his pain with an arrogant smile, or teasing words.
My breathing is shallow as I climb onto the sofa behind him, my soft thighs brushing his strong ones and my heart racing as I settle on my knees. His wings are limp on either side of him, one drooping down to the floor and the other sprawled over the cushions.
"You need to rip them out, darling," Rhys muses gently from under me and as if sensing my worry, his voice has lost all sense of humour. "No need to be gentle, I'm a big boy, I can take it."
"We both know you're a big Illyrian baby, Rhys," I tease, though my voice is strained and when he shifts his head sideways, looking over his wide shoulders at me, I see the small smile tilting his lips too.
I swallow the lump in my throat, shifting forward and placing a trembling hand on his back. To the arrow embedded at the junction of his wing and spine.
His hand slips back and curls around my thigh, fingers sprawling around the flesh and digging in as if he were bracing himself. The touch is distracting but I focus on my fingers wrapping around the arrow, a few inches from the entry point- and I hate how Rhysand's body flinches at the soft touch.
"Come on, darling," Rhysand sighs, his grip tightening around my thigh as I release a long breath, "Amren's going to kill me if I get any more blood on these cushions-"
I rip it out mid-sentence- and Rhysand's whole body jolts as I tear the arrow free from his flesh, a grunt of pain muffling into the leather beneath him.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I whimper, my hand clamping down and applying pressure on the wound, the arrow discarded on the floor beside us. Rhysand trembles under me, his jaw locked so tight I can hear his teeth gritting together, "Shit Rhys, I'm sorry."
"It's- it's okay, it's okay," He pants, and I watch his face from the side, seeing him get paler and paler. He squeezes against my thigh, once, twice, and his eyes blink open, those violet eyes dark. "Keep going darling, you're doing so good, keep-keep going for me."
I feel the familiar burn of tears in my eyes as I lean forward, my fingers slippery with blood and gore as I curl my hold around the second arrow, this one just barely stuck near the very bottom of the left wing.
Ash arrows were notoriously dangerous, known for splintering within the flesh, one wrong move and Rhys would have pieces of the wood stuck in his wings and those would be near impossible for me to remove on my own.
I grit my teeth and pull, swift and brazen, not giving him or me a second to think about it. Again, Rhysand grunts, body viscerally jumping but he seems to bear the pain better the second time, his thighs clenching around mine for support.
"Forget what I said, I was wrong," I clear my throat, trying to force some ease and comfort into my tone as I run my hand up the muscles of Rhysand's back and I feel relief when he sighs, his body melting into my touch. "You're not a big Illyrian baby, you're a tough, strong male."
"What finally convinced you? The very manly way my body is shaking right now?" He released a long exhale, his mouth tugging into a smile and I can't help but laugh when his eyes glance back to meet mine. "Or the groans that keep slipping out no matter how hard I try to contain them?"
I laugh softly, my blood-stained hands running across the planes of Rhysand’s shoulders and back, the pad of my thumbs and forefingers circling around the stiff muscles, trying to get him to relax. He sighs, and his hand pulls against my thigh coaxing me higher up his body, closer than before.
"Nothing wrong with being vocal, Rhys, I would have thought five hundred years of existence would have taught you that," I run my finger across the membrane of his wing, feeling the soft, leathery texture as I move to the next arrow. "Females love to hear how you feel."
"Cruel, wicked thing," Rhysand mumbled, his breath hitching at the tender touch I grazed over his wings, and it was a very different sound to before. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Having me at your mercy."
I wrap my hand around the arrow stuck in the middle of his wing and his body tenses- knowing what was waiting. I frown, hating that he is in pain and unconsciously, my left hand moves to his other wing, and he gasps, eyes widening when I run the pad of my thumb over the talon at the tip- a spot I knew was sensitive.
I tear the arrow out of the right wing with one hand, while my other rakes down the curve of his left wing, my nails scratching softly against the tender flesh there. Rhysand groans, louder this time, and it's a sound that I feel through my body.
"Are you- are you trying to make it feel better, darling?" He asks quietly, his breaths loud in the silent room and his hand at my thigh caressing, his thumb swiping soothingly back and forth.
"Yes," I reply, equally as soft, and my heart is racing as I edge closer, my core and ass settling over one of his burning hot thighs. "Is it working?"
"Yes," He swallows, an audible sound and I see his Adam's apple bobble, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as I reach for the fourth arrow. "Yes, it is, don't- don't stop." There's a slight tremor in his voice, a neediness that makes my head spin.
His body vibrates under me, but for a completely different reason now and it seems the more my idle hands wander curiously over the dancing veins and soft membranes of his wings, the less control he has over himself.
"Cassian said that the talon holds the most nerve endings, does that make it the most delicate to touch?" My voice is hoarse, and I ignore the sweat coating my skin and heat burning through me as I grab around the arrow, my shoulders bracing for the strength needed for this pull.
"Why are you and Cassian talking about the most sensitive parts of a male's wings?" He grits out, his thigh muscle tensing, and I feel it brush against my centre- wet and aching with need. A smile tugs at my lips at the darkness in his tone, that smile broadening when his wing twitches violently against my fingers.
"He also said that males can like having their wings touched during sex and that a brush against the right spot can make you climax, is that true?" His nails dig into my thigh at my whispered words, a moan slipping past his lips when I grip around the talon with a firm hold.
This time when I rip the arrow free, he doesn't feel the pain- too consumed and dizzy with pleasure.
"You're killing me, Y/N," Rhys chuckles, his body shaking with the laugh, a sound that travels through the air and over my skin like a phantom touch. I circle the heel of my palms into his shoulder blades, massaging out the tension and Rhys moans appreciatively, a low rumbling sound from deep in his chest.
"Only one left, Rhys," I say encouragingly, and he mutters incoherently in agreement as I lean forward, the last arrow embedded in his upper back- much deeper than the rest. I frown, rising onto my knees, already missing the strength and heat of his thigh between my legs. "This one's gone all the way through, I'm going to have to dig it out the other side."
"Just when I thought this couldn't get any more fun," Rhys jeers, his hand grazing along my thigh as I sit up as if needing my touch as reassurance.
My eyes narrow at his remark and suddenly the blood and the arrows and his pained face hold no bearing with me, the sympathy vanishes- replaced by the anger that had me ready to march out into a storm to look for him.
"That's what happens when you go chasing the enemy with no backup," I mutter stiffly, and this time when I grab the arrow, I don't give Rhys any satisfaction or comfort- no, I break the arrow in two with an easy snap of the wrist, dropping the fragmented piece to the floor with a clink.
He winces, and when I hover above him, his head turns to look at me, a sheepish smile on his handsome face.
"I take it you're still upset with me then, darling," Rhys muses and the ting of humour in his words makes me scowl, my touch no longer soft or soothing, my body no longer enjoying the hard, perfect feel of him.
“Turn around,” I order, dismissing him as I rise from him and onto my feet. His hand reaches for me, trying to grab me, a yearning in his touch, but I move away from him stiffly. “I need to dig out the arrow from the front.”
He purses his lips at my cold words, and I almost feel bad for him when he hisses in pain, his muscular, lean body so frail as he rolls onto his back, his sore wings moving slow and deliberately, barely able to lift higher than his shoulders before sagging back down again.
“Y/N,” Rhys sighs, a deep frown tugging at his lips as he drops his head against the armrest. I stare at him in silence, seeing him splayed out before me, chest rising and falling in harsh waves and those violet constellations unwavering upon me.
"You could have been killed, Rhysand," I grit out, and I hate the tears I feel prickling my eyes as I stare at him, at the blood coating my hands, and the sofa and the floor, the wound puncturing through his left pectoral. "If you don't trust me to have your back-"
"Don't say that, never say that" He rises faster than I can protest, and my hands shoot up to stop him, but he doesn't relent, his face harsh with discomfort but his eyes burn with determination as he sits up. "I trust you more than anyone, more than myself, don't ever think that Y/N."
"Alright, okay Rhys," I sigh, shaking my head and my hands are weak as I place them on his solid shoulders, trying to guide him to lay back down. His eyes never once leave mine and I can see the hurt in them- that I would even think such a thing. "I'm sorry, just lay down, you're still hurt."
His face tightens severely, and he looks so at odds with the male known for his easy smiles and bright stary eyes- but he obliges me as I guide him back down. His hands curve up my thighs and rest on my hips, and he doesn’t speak as he yanks me down, dragging me so that I straddle his waist.
“Rhys-“ I suck in a sharp breath when he settles me, forcing my weight to sit atop him, my thighs clamped around his hips, my core settled just under his belly button and his calloused hands kneading the flesh at my sides.
"I told you to stay here because I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you," He whispers, eyes unbearably soft, and his touch igniting something hot in me, "If they did something to you if you got hurt... I don't know what I would do, Y/N."
I swallow the lump in my throat, my heart hammering in my chest as I bring my hands forward to the front of his leathers, my fingers stumbling as I unbuckle the belts and slip off the buttons one by one, revealing the acres of tan skin and the dark whorls painted across his chest.
I gnaw on my cheek as I tug back the shirt, Rhysand silently watching every action, every breath I take, and my face falls at the wound leaking blood above his left pectoral, the arrowhead peeking through the gore.
“And what if something worse than this happened to you?" I whisper, my voice hoarse with emotion and when my eyes meet Rhysand’s again, his face tightens at the tears in my eyes, “What do you think I would do? How would I be able to live with it?"
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Rhysand swallows thickly and I watch as he grits his teeth, his body pulsing when I run my fingers over the wound, gauging how deep I have to feel, how best to remove the arrow in one piece.
“I need to dig it out with my fingers to get it to the surface first,” I clear my throat, ignoring the thick prolonged silence and taut tension between us, “It’s going to hurt, badly.”
“I know,” He locks his jaw, the strong angle sharp and I see the grim anticipation on his face when I move my index finger and thumb into position over the exit point. But without speaking, I move my body, lower, until my core settles over the front of his breeches- over his long, hard length.
“Y/N, you don’t have to-“ His breath hitches at the contact, his violet eyes widening and latching onto mine in surprise.
“I want to,” I whisper, need spreading through me at the feel of him under me, the smell of his arousal and mine wafting through the air, making me dizzy. “I’m trying to make it feel better, remember?”
I roll my hips, ever so slightly, and the electricity that shocks through my clit at the contact makes me gasp. Rhysand grunts, a low, heady sound, and the way he lifts his hips up to dig his cock into me is almost desperate.
“Cauldron,” He curses as I dig my fingers into his wound, the metal sharp and hot against my fingertips as I try and get leverage around it. His face twists but when I rock my hips again, dragging down his length, his pain dissolves into something carnal. “Cauldron, Y/N-“
“There we go,” I whisper, my fingers gripping around the arrowhead firmly, twisting it a few inches higher so that it protrudes out of his chest. I bite my lip to contain any sounds as I rut against him, my underwear and trousers soaked through, seeping into Rhysand’s slacks, making it easier to rub over his twitching length. “I’ve got it!”
He moans- the most erotic, lewd sound rumbles from him, low and loud, echoing through the room. I pant as he runs his hands over my body, over my thighs and hips and waist, kneading my stomach and love handles, before settling over my ass.
His nails carve crescent moons into the flesh as he palms me, the control he was so used to wielding in the bedroom not dwindling as he guided me back and forth faster and harder against him.
"This is the best pain I've ever felt, darling," Rhysand purrs, his voice like melted chocolate against my senses and the fire burning between my legs fans at his words. I lean forward, my breasts brushing his chest and my stomach settling against his- and I run my free hand over his sprawled wings.
"I'm going to pull it out now, yeah?" I mumble against his cheek, and I know his head is spinning, the pain and pleasure so at odds, so damning that his canines flash at me, his fingers bruising against my ass and his hips jolting up violently to meet mine.
“Do it, daring,” He commands, the role of the High Lord imprinted into him no matter the situation and almost as if it were programmed in me to obey, I kiss his cheek tenderly- and yank the arrowhead free in one go. “Shit, shit-“
I drag my centre over the tip of his cock, rolling my hips in fast, sharp strokes and Rhysand crumbles at the action- his eyes screw shut, his body stills like stone, and the filthiest, rawest cry tears from his lips, louder and fragmented when I rub at the tip of his talon with my palm.
I whimper at the feel of every hard inch of him cemented against me, the warmth of his hot seed leaking out and soaking his slacks, mixing our arousals, getting messier the more I rub against him.
“Y/N,” He moans my name into the crook of my neck, his teeth scraping against my pule point and his hands curling around my ass, forcing my hips to stop. Instead, he clamps my body flush to his, my tits pressed to his chest, my face buried in his soft hair, and I feel his cock pulsing and tremoring hard against me as he rides out his orgasm.
I feel Rhysand laugh roughly against my neck, the sound of his ragged breathing and the erratic rise and fall of his muscular chest against me making me sigh. His hands don’t loosen, in fact, they get tighter, guiding me until I’m laying flat, his arms wrapping over me and keeping me to his chest.
He was holding me like he didn’t want to let go.
There’s a long silence as I lay with him, our bodies melting together and his touch unrelenting upon me, holding onto my flesh for dear life, feeling me against him and sighing at the comfort. His breathing starts to deepen, turning heavy and I blink, shifting to move my weight off him.
“Don’t,” He grumbles, his arms drawing me back to his chest, a deep groan escaping him as he shifts so that my body slips between the gap of the sofa and his side. His eyes flutter closed again, and I watch his face ease into serenity as I lay my cheek against his shoulder.
“Stay with me.”
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@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @satellitesunshine @queenofangrymoths @highlady-ofillyria @ladespedidas @magical-mischief-makers @lyracarvahall @ummmmmwat @eerievixen @bitchyinternetinfluencer @meritxellao @rachelnicolee @fanfictioniseverything @queen-of-arda @magdalenka @bunnymallowo @azzydaddy @fanboyluvr @maddithefangirl @jeannineee @fakelust @whatthefuckshappeningrn @honeycriess @cheneyq @brujitafantomatico
A/N:
Comment to be added to the tag-list >3
Should I make a part two??? part two here
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 8 months
Text
Practice On Me — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Young Azriel (twenty years old) in Windhaven. A deliciously cliche trope that’s always fun to write. You and Az are close friends, and that’s why he trusts you with a certain insecurity. And also why you come up with an interesting solution. Doesn’t mean it’s necessarily a good idea, though…
Word count: 4.5k.
Warnings: None.
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These nights are cold and unforgiving.
The snow began hammering down in silent droves a couple of hours before. A thick layer of it now blankets the ground and paints the Windhaven camp a brutal white that makes you glance at the boots on your feet. Basic, brown boots that will be soaked and frozen by the time you reach your shoddy hovel of a house. You should have left at the sight of the first snowflake that kissed the ground.
But Rhysand’s mother’s cottage is warm and cosy in a way that yours isn’t. It lulls you to sit back rather than sit up, the fire crackling away in the corner and the smell of spilled ale tinging the air, Cassian’s clumsiness, of course. Your friends eyeball each other around the table, and this game of cards has been going on for too long, and you think your eyes might be growing heavy. If you don’t muster the energy to walk home now, you’ll regret it.
“I’m out.” You announce wisely, eyeing the pitiful deal of cards in your hands. You pile them atop of the table, stretching your arms above your head. The game continues around you.
Playing cards with Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel is always a little amusing — seeing them transform from boisterous, drunken fools to serious, suspicious competitors. They study each other across the top of their cards as if there are any real takings to be had by the winner — but Rhysand’s mother would have your heads if you actually gambled under her roof, so a pile of plastic buttons it is.
Certainly not an incentive to stay any longer.
You stand from your chair, earning curious looks from your three friends. To them, the night is young, at least while Rhys’s mother isn’t here to berate you about the late hour — two, three o’clock, perhaps — but to you, with an unpleasant journey across the camp still to be completed, the night is very much old and very much over.
“I’m heading home before the weather gets any worse.” You announce, plucking your jacket from the back of your chair. “Enjoy the rest of your game, ladies.”
Cassian snorts and Rhys studies his cards once more, ever the serious player, but it’s Azriel — Azriel, who places his dealt hand face-down on the table and also stands from his seat.
“I’ll walk with you.” He announces. Your other two friends don’t so much as bat an eyelash at the offer, because it’s a regular one, one you’ve heard a thousand times and one you know not to politely protest.
Azriel is your closest friend in this gods-forsaken place. And he will genuinely plunge a dagger into his heart before allowing you to brave your walk home alone.
So, you wait by the door as he shucks his jacket on, sliding warm gloves over his scarred hands. And then you’re opening the door, and a savage flurry of snow is pelting your face like it’s been waiting to attack.
“Fucking hell, close the door.” Cass grouses. “It’s glacial out there.”
As if, as Illyrians, the four of you aren’t used to the brutal temperatures. You roll your eyes at his whining and shove your hands into your pockets, before planting a boot into the thick layer of snow already on the ground. You grimace at how little protection your shoes afford you. Twenty years you’ve lived here. You should know better, be more prepared. Hopefully you can make it home before your feet turn to blocks of ice.
“Goodnight, assholes.” You call over your shoulder, and your friends momentarily break from their poker faces to return the sentiment. “Love you!”, Cassian calls, and “Keep warm!”, Rhysand reminds you, and then Azriel is following you out of the door.
“Cass is definitely losing that game.” The Shadowsinger immediately sidles close to you, his side pressed against yours. It doesn’t do much against the glowering cold, but it’s a comfort.
“I’m sure we’ll be able to hear it across the camp the moment he realises.” You breathe a laugh, curling in on yourself. Not only is the temperature simply unpleasant, but it also causes you pain — any extreme weather seems to make the ruined remains of your clipped wings twinge. You search for a subject to distract yourself from the sensation. “How come you didn’t invite Kaeda tonight?”
The name of Azriel’s recent interest has him angling himself towards you, snowflakes catching in his hair. He raises a dark eyebrow. “We’ve not moved past the casual stage yet. Certainly not enough to subject her to Cassian’s company.”
“Shame. It’d be nice to have another female around.” Rhysand’s cousin, Mor, sometimes comes to visit, and you have a few good female friends around the camp, but in your closest circle, you’re a little outnumbered.
Something that didn’t seem to matter so much when you were all younglings making mischief. But you’re adults now. Things are different. You are different.
Azriel presses his arm into yours. “If things progress, I’ll bring her to meet the three of you.”
That’d be nice, you think. To have another friend, and to see Azriel happy. See him appreciated. He deserves to be appreciated.
“And are they?” You press back. “Progressing?”
It’s then that there’s the slightest shift in his demeanour. Anyone else might not catch it — he’s the Shadowsinger, after all, and damn well guarded and cryptic and good at hiding what he’s thinking, feeling. But you’ve known him since you were mere, little runts, and you know every little mannerism.
Even in the freezing cold, Azriel blushes. Turns coy.
“What?” You urge, trying and failing to read him.
He gives a half-hearted shrug. “I want to kiss her.”
“Then why don’t you?
“I want to do it right. I don’t…I don’t want to fuck it up.”
The concern seems like a baseless one. You’re sure Azriel has kissed people before, although he’s always been considerably more reserved than Cassian and Rhys when it comes to females, and you’re not certain how far he’s ever gone. Of all the things you talk about, this isn’t usually one of them. You’re not sure why.
But you’ll help, if possible. You mull over his words as the two of you crunch through thick snow, more and more of it seeping into your useless shoes. The soles of them are worn, and you need a new pair, but you can ill afford it right now. Eventually, the cold starts to get painful, and you stop for a moment, leaning on Az’s arm as you swear quietly.
“There’s no way you’re making it home in those.” He’s totally right, of course. “I told you to get new ones.”
“And I told you, I can’t afford them.” Your toes are numb, now.
“I could fly you straight to your door—”
“Az, you know you can’t.” You sigh; the two of you have had this conversation countless times, because Az takes your safety very seriously indeed. “My father won’t like it.”
It’s not like your father isn’t aware that you’ve been friends with Az and the others since you were youngsters. But as you’ve gotten older, he’s only gotten more paranoid. The last person in the godsdamn universe he would want to think about you having relations with is any of your three closest friends. And if he so much as catches a whiff of them at your door, one of you is sure to pay for it.
Azriel knows you’re right, even if he doesn’t like it. He curses under his breath, and then his arms are snaking around you. “Alright. Hold on to me.”
“What are you…” You cling to him as much as your frozen fingers will allow. He’s always a little warmer than you are, and the feeling is pleasant. As pleasant as his scent is. So naturally, you press closer to him.
“We’ll go to the mead hall.” Azriel explains. “No one will be there now, but the hearths will still be warm. We can spend the night there, and I’ll fly you home in the morning when your father has left for the forge.”
The mead hall is where the Illyrian families across the camp congregate almost nightly to eat their dinner and learn of camp news. It mostly becomes an unpleasant atmosphere, with the males drinking too much and at least one fight certain to break out. You try to attend as little as possible, opting to eat your meals elsewhere, usually in the company of your friends, but your father sometimes insists that you accompany him and drag his drunken ass back home afterwards.
At this time of night, though, the brutes will have been long kicked out and sent home. The cooks will have followed soon after, and the only remaining presence in the long hall is the heat that filled the place. The mere thought of it is a mouthwatering one.
Unsurprisingly, it’s locked, and unsurprisingly, Azriel and his shadows get the door open as if it isn’t. He places you down in the entrance, and you’re immediately heading through to the mammoth dining hall, the warmth breathing out at you and thawing your frozen skin.
Az’s boots thud on the wooden floor after you, leaving little patches of melting snow in his wake. “I’ll get another fire going.”
You hop up onto one of the long wooden tables, first kicking off your sodden shoes and then stuffing your socks into them. You wiggle your toes, trying to generate some warmth into your pinkened feet.
You watch Azriel from across the room. The strands of his dark hair are damp and falling into his eyes, his skin cold-bitten. Sometimes, in moments like these, it stuns you how beautiful your closest friend is. You suppose it’s easy to forget, sometimes, when you’ve known somebody for so long; easy to become desensitised to their beauty. But looking at him like this, you’re sure he must have a whole line of suitors — both female and male — vying for his attention. Even if it’s something he never talks about.
To you, he’s just Az. And you can’t help snorting quietly as he so predictably scoops your shoes and socks up and places them by the fire he has lit.
A mother hen, truly.
“You should start to warm up any second.” He says, traipsing back over to where you’re sat. He slots himself between your legs, and his warmed hands cup your face. “I’m going to buy you a new pair of boots.”
“No you’re not.” You immediately quip, narrowing your eyes up at him. “I’ll buy them when my father chooses to pay me.”
You know it ticks him off — he, like the other adult males, gets a semi-decent wage for his commitment to the Illyrian army, the hours of training he puts in. You, on the other hand, might spend hours — days — helping out in your father’s forge, using the skills you’ve observed from him, and you’ll still only see the flash of a coin on a rare day that he decides he tolerates having a daughter, and that you’re not so bad, after all.
Hence why Azriel can afford a pair of boots, and you can’t. But you’ll not take his money.
So, you change the subject, relaxing into the pleasant sensation of his shadows tickling your skin, warming you. “Why would you fuck it up?”
Azriel’s face turns blank. “What?”
“You said you don’t want to fuck up kissing Kaeda. Why do you think you would?”
He stares back at you for a beat. And then his cheeks darken imperceptibly — nothing to do with the cold.
It surprises you. Az can be coy; shy, even. He’s the quietest of the three males in your circle. A pensive observer, never having much to say but certainly always having much to think about. And you know he has his insecurities, things that bother him, but he’s mostly sure of himself. Knows his power, his strength.
You’re not quite used to him balking from a subject. Becoming flustered by it.
“Has anyone complained about your technique before?” You cock an eyebrow, already knowing that no, they absolutely haven’t. Azriel has very full, kissable lips — something you’ve observed a couple of times before. In a totally platonic way, of course. Totally.
“I didn’t say that,” he lowers his gaze, “I—”
“Just go for it.” You reach up, pinching his flushed cheek between your fingers. “Jump right in and land one on Kaeda. Impress her with your kissing prowess—”
“You,” he tugs your hand away, “are so annoying—”
“The rest will naturally follow when you have your tongue in her mouth. Trust me. And then you’ll be wondering why you were worried in the first place—”
“Except that I’ve never kissed anybody before.”
Immediately, you fall still.
He may as well have shouted the words, from how loudly they seem to echo through the hall.
You stare up at your dear friend, and you blink. Wait for the punchline. Wait for a teasing grin to tug at the corner of his lips — something that very few people other than you get to witness — and for him to tell you that he’s jesting, and of course he’s kissed somebody before, and done a lot more stuff than that, too. All the stuff. Every bit of it. Over and over again—
“Let’s just drop it.” He murmurs, stepping away. You think you might have offended him with your silence, your surprise.
“Wait.” You blink, grasping hold of his arm. “Just…wait.”
He studies you. “Is it that much of a shock?”
Honestly? Yes, yes, it is. Because how did you not know this? You met Azriel when you were both eleven years old. Nine years ago. You faced puberty together and all the awkward things in between. And while you may not sit and discuss the ins and outs of your respective experiences, you simply assumed that his were progressing and evolving just as yours had. Cauldron, Rhys and Cassian stuck their cocks in different males and females every other week. You supposed you’d merely…grouped Azriel in with such things.
But when you think about it — really, truly think about it — Azriel is the only one of the three males who has never introduced another female to the group; no matter how short or fleeting their presence might be. You can’t pluck from your brain a single name he’s ever mentioned besides Kaeda — and that’s a very recent thing.
You’re still waiting a teeny, tiny, little bit for him to say he’s joking. But his cheeks are redder than ever.
“You’ve never kissed anyone.” You repeat, blinking at him.
He purses his lips. “I haven’t.”
“You’ve never pressed your lips to another person’s—”
“I think we’ve established that, Y/N.” He pivots, turning his back on you. “Just forget it.”
“No, wait, fuck, Az, you know I’m shit with words.” You reach for his hand. “Just…how come? Why have you never kissed anybody?”
His hand is tense in yours. You don’t like it. So many times, you’ve held his hand, felt his fingers fold around yours and your palms warm against each other’s. But he holds it limp, now, barely any weight to it. You give it a gentle squeeze.
He pauses. Then squeezes back.
And it’s then that you realise that’s where the problem lies — his hands. Scars.
“Az,” you sigh softly, tugging him closer to you. “Your hands are beautiful. A part of you, your story. Anyone worth knowing — worth kissing — will think the same.”
And gods, you mean the words with every tiny shred of your spirit and soul. There’s no one on the Mother’s green earth that you love more fiercely than the male in front of you. So kind, despite the hatred that’s been shown to him. So gentle, despite the brutality of your environment. He’s wiped your tears and kept you warm and shared his food and given you a place to sleep when your father has made your life particularly difficult. Platonic soulmates exist, and Azriel is yours.
He turns back to you and keeps hold of your hand. And he chews his bottom lip as he says, “I do know that. I know that not everybody is judgemental. But it’s not just the scars.”
You brush your thumb over the back of his palm. “What else is it?”
“I just simply don’t know…how. Fuck, theoretically, of course I know how kissing works. I’ve seen it more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be any good at it. I could be awful, for all I know.”
You highly, highly doubt that to be the case. “You just…practice. Until you know what you like. Until you know your technique.”
Hazel eyes study you curiously. “So…you have, then. Practiced.”
It’s rather strange, but a sudden, random slither of guilt presses down on your shoulders. Silly, because Azriel would never begrudge you your experiences — and you’ve had plenty of them, good and bad.
But in that moment, you want nothing more than to be able to tell him that you, too, have never kissed anybody. That you’ve never touched anybody or lain with anybody. That you’re just as inexperienced and clueless as he is.
But that would be a bare-faced lie. And you and Azriel do not lie to each other.
So perhaps it’s the guilt that causes you to blurt out, “Practice on me.”
Azriel blinks at you. His hand slackens in yours. “What?”
And fuck, you’ve said it now. You’re not sure whether or not you even meant to, but you think it’d be more awkward to retract the words than stand by them and ride them out. You square your shoulders. Try to seem sure, confident.
“Practice kissing with me.”
The poor male is completely dumbfounded. “You’re…my friend.”
“Yes, Azriel. That’s why I’m offering. Practice on me, refine your technique, and then you can apply that confidence to Kaeda.”
“Practice…on you…”
“I’m trying really hard not to be offended by the disgust that’s on your face right now.”
“Shit, no, that’s not—”
“You know what? Forget I said that. Dumb idea. Terrible idea. Forget I even mentioned it.”
Az stares at you. And you don’t want to balk from the eye contact, but you also totally want to throw yourself in the fire, because it would burn less than your embarrassment right now.
And then he says, “Is it a serious offer?”
You lift one shoulder into a shrug. “Why not?”
Oh, there are a million fucking reasons why not. The most pressing being that yours and Azriel’s friendship is, perhaps, the most stable thing in your life. Certainly the most precious and treasured. Rocking that is a very bad idea, indeed.
And you think, for a moment, that that’s precisely what Az is going to tell you. He has that look on his face that he usually gets when you’re about to do something stupid. The one where he chews the inside of his cheek and his eyes rove your face.
But then the word leaves him, quiet and a little breathless, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I accept your offer.”
He—damn. You didn’t think this far; suppose you didn’t expect him to actually agree. And yet here he is, agreeing.
Suddenly, you feel like you’ve never kissed anybody, either.
But you’re supposed to be guiding him here. So you sit up straight. Lift your chin. Azriel watches, eyeing you a little like you’re a creature he’s never seen before. The bewilderment on his face squeezes your heart a bit.
“Do you want to do it now?” You ask.
He swallows. And his eyes fall down to your lips before flicking back to meet yours. “I suppose there’s no time like the present.”
And there isn’t. The two of you are here alone, no background noise from Cassian or Rhysand to battle with. It’s just you and Azriel. Your eyes. Your mouths.
You realise you’re still holding his hand, and so you use it to pull him closer to you, slot him back between your legs. You’re certain he’s trembling, and you are, too.
“Just take your time.” You tell him. “Let your body lead. Do what feels natural.”
He gives a stiff nod. And pauses. “And you promise to be honest afterwards? About how it was?”
Your eyes soften. “Always, Az.”
He nods again, and then he’s sucking in a slow, steadying breath. You remain still, allowing him to make the first move, to do whatever he wants.
There’s a pause of heavy silence, and then he dips his head. Kisses you once.
It’s a quick, closed-mouth kiss. Sweet, if not a little stiff and awkward. But you know Azriel is testing the waters, deciding whether he truly wants to do this. If he surmises that he absolutely doesn’t, you’ll stop, say no more about it. You keep still and allow him to decide.
And when he pulls back to study you, you give him a reassuring smile. One that silently communicates, I’m fine, we’re fine, this is fine.
It seems to give him the little boost he needs.
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Slowly, he slips his hand out of yours, and you allow him to. You watch as he inches even closer. Moves his hands up to rest at either side of your face.
When he’s cupping your cheeks, his eyes meet yours, and he whispers. “Is this okay?”
You squeeze his forearm once. “It’s fine, Az. Do whatever you feel you want to do. I’ll tell you if I don’t like anything.”
He nods, and his gaze drags down to your lips. You’re still, careful, not moving until he’s ready to. And maybe he’ll not feel ready. Maybe he’ll stop this and pull back and decide it’s a terrible idea—
No.
Azriel’s thumb sweeps over your cheek. And then he leans in and presses his mouth to yours a second time.
This time, it’s different — you can tell straight away.
It starts out slow, his lips exploring yours, moulding to the shape of them. The kiss is a caress on your mouth, and it’s a damn good start. You find yourself leaning into it. Kissing back.
For a split second, you feel Az pause. But then his hand is cupping your cheek firmer, the heat of his palm meeting the heat of your face and making you forget how cold you were only minutes ago. Az’s lips part, and so naturally, yours do the same. You kiss him gladly.
And he’s not bad at all. You’ve kissed far more experienced males with far worse technique. Azriel may be nervous and tentative, but there’s something there, lurking beneath the surface. Something that will grow with the right encouragement, the right amount of confidence.
You…you want to give him both.
But it’s important to remember why you’re doing this. For his sake. So he can comfortably kiss the female he’s interested in.
You part from him momentarily, his breath fanning your lips as you ask him, “Are you doing okay?”
“I am.” There’s a rasp to his voice. “Are you?”
“I’m doing great.”
And you are. The weight of Azriel’s hand on your cheek is surprisingly pleasant. This exploration is new, and it’s thrilling, and it’s nice. It feels…nice.
“Do you want to keep going?” You know what you want to do. “Or would you like to stop? Whatever you want, Az.”
He swallows again. “I want to keep going.”
You nod, and in gentle encouragement, you move your hands to rest at his waist. You must be imagining the slight tremor that wracks through Azriel’s body in that moment. Or perhaps it’s just a coincidence.
There’s no time to think, because he dips his head and catches your lips faster this time. He tilts your head up, applying a little bit of pressure to your mouth. Your lips part, and so do his.
Az’s tongue seems to tease the seam of your lips. And then he slides it into your mouth.
His taste invades you so suddenly, so thoroughly, that you gasp. It’s something rough and smoky. Rugged and pleasant. You can’t think of the exact words as his tongue meets yours, and nor do you care to. All you want to do is reciprocate. Kiss him.
You scoot forward on the table, lifting yourself up slightly to add a touch more fervour to the kiss. Your tongue rolls around Azriel’s, and it’s so damn good, so damn sinful, so damn unexpected.
You’re aware, somewhat, of Azriel’s hand slipping from your cheek and resting at the column of your neck. And he licks at the roof of your mouth, and at your tongue, and somehow at every part of you that has you wanting more. His lips work perfectly with yours, not faltering once.
In that moment, you might forget who you are and what your life story is, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget this — this kiss of pure, salacious, unguarded need. If this is what Azriel kisses like for the first time, you can’t imagine how he could possibly progress. How it could get better than this.
One of you makes a needy little noise — you think it might have come from him, but it lands in your mouth, anyway. And then you’re being yanked closer, and your hands are moving up to tangle within Azriel’s hair, and you’re tugging the strands and pulling him against you and kissing him so desperately that you’re sure you’re going to feel it days, weeks, months from now. Azriel’s fingers knead the back of your neck, and your legs snake around his waist, locking him in.
There’s movement. Natural, pleasant movement — you, him, both of you together, moving and shifting.
You don’t know at which point you’re lying back on the table, or which of you made it happen; but suddenly Azriel is hovering over you, his body flush to yours, too-hot parts of you meeting too-hot parts of him.
The kiss is burning, and needy, and you writhe beneath him, and he writhes on top of you, and he’s pressing against you, and you both groan.
And then Az breaks away.
He doesn’t move far — just rips his lips from yours.
You’re both panting, breathing so hard that your heaving chests touch with every breath. Azriel blinks down at you, and you blink up at him.
And in that moment, you become aware of just how far this has slipped. He’s basically lying on top of you, his body moving with yours. Your scents have changed and combined, and you both know what the earthier, deeper quality to them means.
That you got a little carried away. And this needs to stop — now.
Azriel stares down at you, panting against your mouth as your heart thunders in your ears.
“Fuck.” Is all he says.
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azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden
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morallyinept · 2 months
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Northern Lights - A Joel Miller One Shot
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Summary: You and Joel watch the Northern Lights together whilst cold camping.
Pairing: Post Outbreak Joel Miller x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)
Word Count: 2.3k
Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of.”
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
Warnings/Triggers: Established relationship/fingering/hand job/kissing/lots of snuggles/Joel being a grump - mostly fluff, but you get the spicy too.
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.
I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Author’s Note: I was watching The Last Of Us (again), and this idea came to me. Have you ever seen the Northern Lights? I've been fortunate enough to see them in Iceland, which was incredible. Would have been better if Joel was there, mind... 😍
MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST
Enjoy! 🖤
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A cold-tipped nose brushes against your cheek, rousing you from sleep.
The shadows of his face blur into clarity in the dim natural light of the camp. Your back, hard and cold on the ground, aches. The layers help, but it still seeps into your bones when you camp out so exposed like this, in the middle of a trying winter.
The steep, shadowy jags of the snow-capped mountains cut into the horizon; a deep midnight sky spackled with the twinkle of stars. A clear night, which means it’ll only get colder.
You rub your eyes, yawning. “What time is it?”
“Hell do I know.” Joel mutters as he reaches for the tin mug and pushes it into your hands. Your eyes fall on the broken watch he still wears around his wrist.
The scent of burnt, bitter coffee mists into your nostrils as it sloshes around the inside like a muddy puddle.
Your mouth becomes a vortex as you yawn, eyes dry and heavy.
A dense canopy of towering trees stretch skyward as you sit upright in the little clearing; their branches reaching out like gnarled fingers to brush against the star-studded awning above.
Despite the desolation that grips the world beyond, the forest offers a sense of tranquillity - a reminder that life, in all its beauty and complexity, still thrives in the most unlikely of places.
It’s a good place to pause; two survivors, traversing the decaying landscape of a once-thriving world, seeking refuge to rest your tired bones wherever you can.
Striking a balance between coasting in the woodlands out of sight and only daring to penetrate fallen cities or urban landscapes when you’re in dire need of supplies. It’s what's kept you both going for so long.
“Did you sleep?” You ask him as he gulps back his own coffee with fervour.
He shakes his head under a furrowed brow, greying curls billowing. You frown at him and he rolls his eyes.
“You’re going to keel over one day.” You blow on your coffee, fingers heated as you grip round the mug.
“M’not dead yet-”
Suddenly, a distant howl pierces the stillness, sending shivers down your spine. The infected are never far away, a constant reminder of the dangers lurking in the shadows.
Joel stiffens, reaching for the rifle.
“That’s not infected.” You say, listening to the shrill, barking moans emanating from deep in the forest surrounding you, and he nods, eyes darting about.
“Maybe a coyote.” He keeps hold of the rifle anyway.
The air is bitterly cool and heavy with the scent of damp earth and pine resin, creating an atmosphere of eerie stillness, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant screech of a hungry mammal.
Sipping your coffee, feeling it warm down the centre of your chest despite its acrid taste, you close your eyes again.
“Ya gon’ miss it.” Joel murmurs.
“How do you know it’s gonna happen tonight?”
“I can feel it.” He says, pottering about and with the gas stove. He pauses to glance up momentarily at the glittery sky.
“Right. The same as you can always feel it’s going to snow.”
“It snowed, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, two weeks after you said it would.” You scoff with a wry smirk.
“Just be grateful it ain’t snowing now.” He bites back.
“If it snows now I’m sleeping in the cab. You missed your calling as a weatherman, clearly.” You chortle.
“Drink ya damn coffee.” Joel grumbles, dumping the stove in the back of the truck.
“It’s really gross.” You say, offering it to him.
You smirk as he comes and sits beside you.
“You’re a coffee snob.” He remarks as he gulps it back.
“Yes I am.” You concur with a grin.
Tucking his body into the sleeping bag with you and rubbing his hands, Joel opens his arm out. You shuffle into it as you wrap your fallen scarf over your shoulder.
“Any minute now.” He gruffs, looking up at the sky with stretched eyebrows when he’s eventually settled.
“Mmhm.” You retort sceptically. “If you woke me up for nothing, expect a black eye.”
Joel snorts. “That’s some mighty big smack talk for a lil’ lady.”
You put your fists up and he kisses your knuckles with deep, big browns peering at you over the ridges.
“C’mere,” he lays right down with you horizontal, and sighs out.
Within moments, small ghostly wisps of green fleck across the sky; a gentle birth of colour that seems shy in its solo performance.
“Told ya.” He mutters, trying not to smirk.
“No-one likes a smartass, Joel.” You quip, nudging him gently.
“Yeah they do. Are ya warm enough?” He wraps the mottled scarf around you further with soft eyes lancing at you as you shiver.
As you gaze back at him, you can't help but notice the delicate web of lines that radiate outward from their corners, framing his stare with a quiet wisdom and warmth. With each smile, the crinkles deepen, forming gentle crow's feet that cradle the corners of his eyes like little parentheses of joy.
Despite the hardships you’ve faced, swinging on the precarious, fraying threads between life and death at times, there’s a lightness in the way Joel's eyes crinkle when he smiles, even if it’s a rare occurrence; a resilience that refuses to be dimmed by the darkness of this world.
And as you trace the contours of his face with your fingertips, you feel a sense of gratitude wash over your skin, warming you.
Despite the ruggedness of his facial hair, there’s a surprising silkiness to the touch, a reflection of the affection and intimacy shared between you. An unspoken tag-team who keep each other alive and well without having to utter the words out loud.
His moustache, once meticulously groomed in another life, now boasts a craggy charm, with patches of grey peeking through the remnants of its original dark colour as his youth stubbornly tries to hold on that bit longer. Each strand curls softly at the edges, adding a touch of character to his weather-beaten features.
As your hand cups his cheek, you can feel the gentle pressure of his fuzzed beard against your palm, thumb stroking at the edge of his lips where the hairs riot in a cluster of different directions as you smooth them down. You’ll probably need to help him trim them again soon and the thought makes you smile.
Despite the weariness etched into his face, there’s a quiet dignity in the way Joel carries himself, a sense of pride born of the challenges you’ve overcome together. He’s more than just a man who’s dragged you through this world with bloodied knuckles and kept you alive - he’s your confidant, your ally. Dare you even admit, a soulmate.
A shared story of love and loss, of hope and despair, woven into the fabric of your mutual beings, Joel’s gentleness in moments like this offer a sanctuary - a place where you can be yourself without reservation, without the tough bravado where your fears and doubts melt away in the pull of his hypnotic eyes.
“Lookit.” He breaks the spell and pushes your chin gently with a thick finger toward the direction of the sky.
Above you, the Northern Lights paint the firmament alive with their mesmerising hues, casting an otherworldly glow upon the world below. Soft tendrils of pink and violet unfurl like delicate petals around the spectacular emerald green.
They pulse and flicker with a rhythmic cadence, casting a soft, iridescent glow that bathes the landscape in a surreal, spooky light.
Joel wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer as you share the warmth of the sleeping bag and your layered up bodies crushed tight against one another.
"Look at that," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the leaves carrying with it the faint scent of pine and earth. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing this.”
Joel nods in silent agreement, his gaze fixed on the swirling display of colours overhead.
In that moment, it feels as though you’re the only two people left in the world, cocooned in your own little bubble of warmth and intimacy from the brackens of an oncoming harsh winter that’ll test both your resilience over again.
You both watch in silent wonder, lost in the beauty of the moment, for moments like these are hard to come by. A respite in the doom-filled survival that snaps at you daily, for a moment of shared awe.
Joel pulls the sleeping bag further up as you nestle into his arms. As you huddle inside, you can feel the plush, ragged interior cushioning your bodies, moulding to your contours like a second skin.
The sleeping bag is large enough to accommodate you both, yet intimate enough to foster a sense of closeness as you lay side-by-side.
“So beautiful,” you say.
“Yeah, you are.” Joel remarks and you turn to see his eyes watching you and not the sky. Face illuminated in a green glow, lost in how your curious orbs reflect the ethereal beauty above.
The pull of need floods your body, tingles pitching down your spine as he loses himself inside your eyes.
“Kiss me, Joel,” you murmur to him, nose pressed against his as you pull him by his collar to your face. His lips pursed, they find yours - cold and chapped as they graze.
A warm tongue slips inside, sucking gently as he explores; tiny, soft nips felt peppered across your lip.
You already feel warmer, the prickles of the heat blooming under your armpits and on the back of your neck. His cool fingers stroke you there, engulfing your mouth with a growing need of his own as he crushes you closer to him.
You find his skin under the layers; stroking at the softness of his belly that overhangs his jeans a little more now, as he gasps into your mouth at the intrusion of cold fingers. Traversing gently over the welts of scars where the texture changes underneath your tips.
You can feel his fingers within the depths of the sleeping bag fumbling at your button, tugging at your jeans clumsily with deep pants before he gives up and just slides his hand in when the zipper won’t give.
You whine into his mouth as he finds your clit, rubbing with the thick pad of his middle finger against it.
Your hands do the same, releasing him from his scuffed denim, warm and heavy. Breaking your kiss to spit into your palm, he hisses into your mouth as you stroke him; succulently wet around his thick cock, weeping as you pump.
You fist at his collar, face buried into the plush heat of the crook of his neck. He grunts as your teeth dig into golden, weathered skin, muting your gasps from the pulsing between your legs as he strokes and taps; the heat begins to engulf you inside the sleeping bag.
He growls as you bite harder, nudging your face with his so he can kiss you again, his own teeth gnawing at your lips as he pants harder now.
Hard and pulsing in your palm, his whines upping their tempo as he closes in on that moment when he’ll dissipate.
“Come-” he wheezes, words barely audible as he breathes. “-M’gonna come,” choking breaths get tangled in his throat.
Eyelashes fluttering agasint your skin, breathes seeping into your mouth, his grip on you tightens as his back stiffens and hips thrusts his cock further into your hand.
“Fu-fuck,” he jolts, spilling into your palm, warm and thick.
Joel trembles, body shaking as he empties, face pushing against yours as he breathes out in satisfaction, a small bewildered snicker in confoundment as you nuzzle against him.
“You kill me, darlin’.” He whispers, breath warm on your lips and chin as you wipe him away on your scarf.
He moves his fingers still inside your jeans, stroking over the swell of nerves. Your grip around his wrist keeps him there, feeling him dip his middle just inside your hole as you contract, thumb smoothing over the oil-slick bead of your clit.
“Joel!” You gasp, tonguing the sparse tracks of sweat-salt hairs grazing down the side of his throat.
His finger slides right into the hilt, palm up and stroking deeply; thumb still pushing on your clit. Your nails cut into his wrist, pulling him against you as you subtly grind.
The hooked end of his nose notches against yours as you whimper.
Gentle, broken commands lose their endings as he loses his breath. “Give it,” and “want,” snuffling out of him as he strokes faster on your wet, fleshy spot.
Your body shakes as you come; his finger sopping as you clench and rib around it, knees jerking against his as you float in the lights, bathed in fuschia and jade strobes.
He stops stroking as you kiss him. Tiny, soft pinpricks of his moustache tickle your lip, making the insides of your cheeks tingle. Coarser, wiry greys prominent in the fading roots, mingling with the softer ones that still reside.
You run your fingers through patchy, bare spaces, smooth and free of any growth. You make patterns in them, trace their random shapes with your tips; an oval here, a heart there.
You both turn and look up at the sky together. The display falling into your eyes in that glow of emerald and pink as the Aurora shows off for an entrancing encore.
The heat envelops you both as you snuggle in together, his arm draped around you and your head resting on the muscled pillow of his shoulder.
You press a soft kiss under his jaw, of which he grunts with throaty appreciation. Your eyes continue to roam the falling curtains of colour in sky.
“Is it everything ya ever hoped for?” Joel questions gently, voice rolling around that familiar grizzle as he tucks you in closer to his side.
“Freezing my ass off in the middle of the forest with you?”
He chuckles with a wheeze. “Yeah.”
“It’s everything.” You smile.
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I hope you enjoyed watching the Northern Lights with Joel. He gives the best snuggles, right? Would love to know your thoughts and if you enjoyed it, I'd appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy it too. Thankies 🖤
MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST
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kwanisms · 5 months
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» stray kids masterlist | collab masterlist «
➮ hyunjin x f!reader
wc: 20.1k
summary: Y/N never expected to run into her ex again, especially not at a holiday party of all places. Nor did she expect for him to offer to drive her home when her ride bails on her. She definitely did not expect Hyunjin’s car to get stuck in the snow and for them to have to spend the night at an elderly couple’s house where they, unsurprisingly, have to share a room and even more unsurprisingly, there’s only one bed.
genres/themes/au: angst, smut; holiday themes, rekindled relationship, exes to lovers, one bed; non idol au
warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, mention of previous alcohol abuse, flashbacks of toxic relationship, mentions of arguing and fighting (nothing physical except pushing and MC hitting Hyunjin's chest), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!
special tags: @millennial-fangirl @twisted-tales-of-all @staytinyville @skyechild
permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @surveilenceysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @plutoneu @prestineaugstine @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @deadgirlwalking3 @tigerhoshi25 @chocolate-scoups @spilled-coffee-cup @aaniag @ayoo-bangtan @walkingtravesty97 @yevene @certifiedmoa @nottkwiwin
stray kids taglist: @cixrosie @hoeforcheol @smhlino @cutiespaghetti @peterparkoure @chubbyanarkiss @anyamaris @nattisbored @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @vampiirose @plants-w0rld @0325tiny @justiny @lacie220900 @dementedaly to be contin.
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a/n: my first piece was nothing but tooth rotting sweet fluff but I knew from the get go when I picked Hyune for this collab that I wanted to write angst for him. That being said, NO. I WILL NOT BE WRITING A SEQUEL TO THIS TO GIVE THEM A PROPER HAPPY ENDING. The ending is up to reader interpretation. So please do not ask for a part 2 because there will not be one. Thank you so much for reading and joining us on this collab! The Tales from Camp Holiday Special begins now and once that’s over, I will be focusing on Under Your Skin. If you are a SVT fan, you can read the OG Tales from Camp here and the Holiday Special here. And for those of you who are SKZ fans, consider checking out Under Your Skin here. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.
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smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up), dirty talk, slight voice kink, use of pet names (baby, angel, sweetheart, etc.), oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), handjob (m receiving), lowkey lovemaking, biting (f receiving), slight possessive sex, soft dom!Hyunjin, sub!Reader, it’s hot and heavy and Hyunjin is clearly very much in love still. If I missed any, pls let me know!
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“Promise me you won’t ditch me the moment the doors open,” you whined, looking at your friend who gave you a blank look. “You know I can’t promise you that!” Kaia said as she raised her fist to knock on the door. It opened a moment later, warmth reaching out to pull you both into the house. You clung to your friend as you removed your coats and they were hung up and put in a room off the foyer.
The house was a typical suburban American home. The walls were an off white color, decorations like something out of a Christmas catalog. The partygoers were dressed in varying shades of red, green, white, gold, and the like.
The white vaulted ceilings reflected light to make the rooms appear even larger and brighter than they already were. A massive fifteen foot pine tree dominated the far corner of the living room, professionally decorated with gold and red baubles, strings of white lights sweeping across the branches and small faux icicles hung from the tips of the branches. Under the tree lay a red tree skirt with gold embroidery, perfectly wrapped gifts lying atop the red fabric.
You followed Kaia further, not wanting to lose sight of her as you made your way to the kitchen.
The open concept floor plan into the kitchen made the already large space seem just even larger. The white quartz counters contrasted with the dark gray shaker cabinets with golden hardware. A massive kitchen island separated the spaces, decorated with an assortment of snacks.
Along the wall leading into a breakfast nook was a table with even more food and at the back of the breakfast nook room was an actual bar set up where a young woman with blonde hair curled and neatly tied back was making drinks for patrons.
In the kitchen Kaia dragged you over to the bar and ordered drinks. Once your drink was in your hand, Kaia pulled you aside and scanned the room. She waved at a few people, sipping on her drink as you eyed the food, wanting to eat something so you weren’t drinking on an empty stomach.
Before you could say anything, Kaia was downing the rest of her drink, ordering another before she looked at you. “You’re on your own,” she simply said before leaving your side and making her way across the room where she introduced herself to someone you didn’t recognize.
‘Bitch,’ you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. You made your way over to the table to grab a small plate, adding an assortment of hors d'oeuvres to it before sneaking off to the side and out of the way. You nibbled at your food, sipping your drink intermittently as you watched the party unfold around you.
It hadn’t even been your idea to come here. Kaia had begged you to come with her for a week straight until you caved and agreed but on the condition she didn’t ditch you once here.
She clearly didn’t hold up her end of the bargain.
As you ate, a couple people you did recognize came up and chatted with you politely and you felt a little better, knowing more than just your awful so-called friend. You saw a couple of people from your previous workplace as well as some old college acquaintances.
About an hour into your arrival and three White Russians later, you were exiting the bathroom when you bumped into something hard and stumbled slightly. Kaia had insisted you wore these heels and you were starting to regret letting her talk you into it. You were regretting a lot of things regarding Kaia truthfully but it wasn’t the night to get into it.
Looking up as you smoothed your dress out, you started to apologize until you saw the face of the person you’d just run into.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
The look on your ex’s face was one of pure shock. He clearly wasn’t expecting to see you either.
You turned away from him, intent on finding Kaia and leaving. This was a mistake. You never should have come here tonight. “Y/N, wait.” you heard him say, feeling his hand gently grab your arm. You pulled sharply from his grip and glared at him.
Hyunjin fell silent, holding his hand up in surrender before you stormed away to find your friend.
It didn’t take long to find her, perched on the lap of the guy she’d ditched you for as he sat on one of the pristine white couches in the living room. You weaved through the crowd, stopping by her to glare down at her. “Y/N!” she said excitedly. “I was just coming to find you! We’re about to play a game!”
You grabbed Kaia by the wrist, dragging her up and off the guy’s lap, leading her away from the group.
“Y/N, what the hell?” Kaia hissed as you pulled her to a spot near the wall. “I’m going to ask you something and I want the truth,” you started as Kaia inspected her wrist before looking up at you. “What?” she grumbled. “Did you know Hyunjin was going to be here?” you demanded.
Kaia stared blankly at you for a couple moments before speaking. “Theoretically? I knew there was a chance.” Your mild annoyance turned into blind rage. She knew he might be here and yet she still insisted you come anyway? What was her problem? 
“I want to leave,” you snapped. “Now.” 
Kaia scoffed, rolling her eyes and gested at the door. “Go ahead. Leave,” she replied. Your lips parted in shock. “You’re my ride, Kaia,” you reminded her. “Then I guess if you want me to drive you home, you’re gonna have to stay until I’m ready to leave.”
You glared at her. Ditching you was one thing but knowingly stranding you here was another.
“And what about him?” you hissed, throwing a dirty glance towards Hyunjin who was now nursing a drink. As if sensing you were talking about him, he looked over, meeting your gaze but only for a moment before you looked away. Kaia shrugged. “That’s your problem, babe,” she replied.
Before you could answer, she walked away, taking her previous perch and leaving you to seethe alone.
“Un-fucking-believable!” you hissed as you stormed off, making a path to the bar. If you were going to be forced to be here, might as well make the best of it and get as many free drinks as you could stomach.
You were grumbling to yourself as you waited in line, the guy in front of you kept turning to look at you though it wasn’t annoyance on his face. More like concern. “Are you okay?” he finally asked, having turned back to you. His accent caught you off guard but you nodded all the same. “Rough night?” he asked and you scoffed. “You have no idea.”
He offered a warm smile, holding his hand out for you to shake. “Felix,” he introduced himself. “Y/N,” you replied, shaking his hand. “Want to tell me about it over drinks?” he asked, gesturing to the bar. You couldn’t help but chuckle and nod. Once the two of you got your drinks, you stood off to the side, talking about your lives. What you did for work, how you ended up at this party.
Felix was exceedingly easy to talk to and he kept a smile on your face. He was also a pretty good dancer. You almost couldn’t find a fault with him until he tried to beat you at darts in the rec room downstairs. It’s not like you were a champion when it came to darts but he just really sucked at it.
“So tell me about Straya,” you said in a half convincing Australian accent as the two of you sat on one of the couches in the rec room, taking the place of a couple who got up to get more drinks upstairs. Felix let his arm rest on the back of the couch behind you.
“It’s hot,” Felix answered. “Really hot,” he added. “And there are spiders everywhere.” You shuddered. You hated spiders. “And they’re the really big ones,” he continued. “They’re known to catch lizards and even mice if they’re hungry and fast enough. And boy are they fucking fast,” he added with a laugh.
“Okay, enough with the spiders,” you said with a shiver. “Don’t like them?” Felix asked and you shook your head. “Absolutely not!” Felix chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “What about the roos?” you asked suddenly, making him give you a peculiar look. “The roos?” he asked.
“Yeah. The kangaroos,” you clarified. Felix let out a chuckle. “Oh, those roos!” he replied.
“Big and mean,” he answered. “The males are super territorial and they’re buff. They’re majorly jacked. They look like bodybuilders.” You covered your mouth as you let out a laugh. “What?” you asked incredulously as Felix nodded.
“They’re mean,” he replied. “They’re not cute and cuddly. They can kill. Those claws on their hands aren’t just for show. And they can kick like a kickboxer.” Your eyes widened. “Wait, really?” you asked. Felix nodded. “You don’t fuck with kangaroos. Same with koalas. They look cute and furry but they also have gnarly claws and they’ll take a swipe at you if given the chance.”
Your perception of Felix’s home continent was changing by the minute as he talked. As your cups emptied, you made your way back upstairs to get more drinks, opting to find a seat in the four seasons room off the living room where it was a little quieter.
“So,” Felix said, taking a sip of his drink and looking up at you.
“What had you so upset earlier?”
Your smile dropped a little as you let out a deep, heavy sigh.
“My friend I came with is being a real bitch right now,” you admitted. “She begged me to come to this party when I didn’t really want to in the first place. She promised if I came with her, she wouldn’t leave my side,” you continued.
“But she ditched you anyway?” Felix asked, prompting you to nod in response. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he raised his cup to his lips. “That’s a pretty shitty thing to do,” he agreed. You nodded slowly. “And that’s not all,” you added. Felix glanced up as you settled back against the cushions.
“My ex is here tonight.”
“And that’s bad, I take it?” Felix asked. You nodded.
“We broke up a couple years ago,” you started. “The relationship was… not good. We fought a lot. Constant arguing. We kept accusing the other of cheating. We were constantly at each other’s throats.” Felix nodded slowly. “Who ended it?” he asked before backtracking.
“Sorry,” he stuttered. “That’s really none of my business.” You shook your head, dismissing his apology with your hand. “It’s okay,” you replied. “I broke up with him. I knew if I didn’t do it, it would never happen so I bit the bullet and pulled the trigger.”
Felix let out a sigh. “Man,” he said softly. “That’s rough.” 
“Yeah,” you nodded. “And when I asked my friend that I came with to take me home because I wanted to leave, she basically said to find my own way home.”
“Did she know he was going to be here?” Felix asked, raising his cup to his lips. “She said she knew there was a possibility,” you replied.
Felix’s jaw dropped. “What the fu- look, I’m sorry,” he started. “But you need to find better mates,” he said, shaking his head, baffled by the audacity. “Do you still want to leave?” he asked softly. You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied. “Parties just really aren’t my scene., and seeing my ex really just ruined my entire night.” Felix nodded. “No, I get it,” he replied. “I’m here cause this is actually my cousin’s place and I’m crashing here for the holidays,” he explained.
“But I think I actually might know someone who’s planning to leave soon and he lives in the same direction you’re going so maybe he can give you a ride?” Felix offered. You gave him a smile. “Really?” you asked excitedly. “That would be so amazing!”
Felix smiled at your reaction and got to his feet, holding out his free hand. “Let’s go ask him,” he said, smiling wider as you grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull you up.
“Yes,” you answered. “Let’s ask!”
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‘Twice in one night is enough,’ you told yourself as you stared back at Hyunjin while Felix spoke to your ex. Granted, he didn’t know the guy he was trying to ask to give you a ride was your ex-boyfriend. Felix smiled as he turned to you. “It was great meeting you,” he said, holding his hand out for you to shake again. “Hyunjin’s a great guy. He’ll make sure you get home safe!” he added before bidding the two of you goodnight and moving into the next room to rejoin the party.
You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. Hyunjin downed the rest of his soda, tossing the can and turning to you. “Did you bring a coat?” he asked nonchalantly. “I’m not leaving with you.” He ignored your words, instead getting up and fishing his phone out of his pocket.
You watched as he typed across the screen quickly and pocket the device again. “Go get your coat,” Hyunjin said softly. You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m not leaving with--”
He looked at you, looking slightly annoyed. “Look, either I take you home or you’re stuck at this party. It’s your choice,” he explained. “But I am leaving.” You stared at one another, both unmoving, unblinking until you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you snapped. “But I need to get my stuff out of Kaia’s car.”
Hyunjin nodded and gestured forward. “After you.”
You managed to get Kaia’s attention, asking for her keys so you could get your bag out of her car. She gave it up without question as you headed for the front door and got your coat from the coat room. Hyunjin was waiting on the porch for you when you exited the house and walked with you to Kaia’s car, waiting patiently while you got your bag from the back.
He took the bag from you while you ran back in to return Kaia’s keys to her and headed back out. He’d already turned on his car and backed up as close to the door as he could get without going onto the grass. He waited at the base of the steps for you, making sure you didn’t fall and helped you traverse the snow in your boots, even going so far as to open your door for you.
Once inside he returned to his side and got in, clicking his seatbelt in place as he fiddled with the temperature controls. You shivered, holding your hands in front of the heater. Hyunjin put the car in drive and slowly pulled away from the house, following the long driveway back out to the street.
It was snowing when you first arrived at the party with Kaia but more snow had accumulated, covering the roads and was starting to come down heavier as Hyunjin pulled onto the road and started driving in the direction of the city.
“Picked a hell of a day to have the party, didn’t they?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood. You hummed in response, looking out the window at the scenery as Hyunjin crept along. Silence fell over you both again. “Did you want to listen to music?” Hyunjin asked softly. “Oh my god, Hyunjin, I don’t care!” you snapped.
Silence fell once more. 
“Sorry,” you finally said softly. “I’m just really frustrated.”
Hyunjin nodded silently, opting not to turn the radio on.
He continued to drive carefully, remembering the last time he’d driven in snow like this. He’d managed to wreck his first car during a snowstorm and his mother had scolded him to the moon and back about how he needed to be careful. Since then, he’d been overly cautious when it came to driving in the snow.
The car reached a curve in the road and Hyunjin followed it, hands gripping the steering wheel as the back end of his car started to fishtail. “Whoa,” he mumbled. “Hyunjin!” you said, panic in your voice as the car quickly veered out of his control and slid over the edge of the road and down into a ditch.
The impact wasn’t as bad as Hyunjin expected but he was still jerked forward as the car came to an abrupt halt, nose pointing down toward the ditch. The car slowly slid sideways down the steep embankment until it finally stopped moving.
Immediately, Hyunjin put the car in park and looked around seeing nothing but white.
He turned to look at you. “Holy shit, Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You nodded, looking around and checking yourself over. “Y-yeah,” you stammered. “I’m alright. What about you?” Hyunjin exhaled in relief. “I’m fine,” he answered.
“What about the car?” Hyunjin glanced out his window. “Well, I don’t think we hit anything,” he explained as he looked around, checking his mirrors.
“I’m gonna get out and make sure,” he added. 
Before you could stop him, he opened his door and got out, shutting the door behind him and walked around the car, trudging through the snow as he inspected the outside. He returned moments later, getting back into the car.
“There are no marks outside but it looks pretty stuck,” he said as he shivered, shaking the cold off.
You pulled your phone out and groaned at the no service symbol at the top of the screen. ‘Fuck.’ Hyunjin pulled his phone out and saw he also had no signal. “Shit!” he cursed. “What do we do?” you asked softly, looking up at him. Hyunjin looked around before looking in his rearview mirror.
“Hey, we passed a house, right?” he asked, turning to look out the back windshield. “Uh, I think so?” you replied. “Maybe like a mile back?” Hyunjin nodded, looking at your face. “Okay,” he said softly and turned in his seat.
You watched as he reached into the back seat, digging around for something. He produced a hat and scarf, wrapping the scarf around his neck and pulling the beanie on. He then reached behind your seat and pulled out a blanket. “I’m going to walk to the house to see if anyone is home,” he said as he threw the blanket over your lap.
“You stay here and keep warm,” he added. “I’ll be back with help or good news,” he added as he opened his door and got out, shutting the door behind him. You watched as he climbed up the embankment and started to walk down the street in the direction of the house you’d both seen.
You sighed, pulling the blanket closer around you, a shiver running up your spine as you looked outside the car. Snow was still coming down, joining the blanket already on the ground. You curled further into yourself, trying to preserve whatever warmth you could manage.
You heard the doors lock and readjusted the blanket to cover your legs and looked around his car. It was the same car you remembered him having just before the break up. The one he’d been so excited and proud of because it was the first car he bought when he started his job.
Another shiver went up your spine and you hoped Hyunjin would find help, even shocked that he offered to go find it. In the past, he never would have done so, a memory surfacing of your attempt to go to the beach on a road trip. You managed to get lost on back roads as Hyunjin refused to ask for directions.
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[flashback - four years ago]
“Babe, why don’t we just stop and ask for directions?” you asked, looking up from the map. You glanced out the windshield at the rolling farmland surrounding you which was certainly not the beach which you should have been at by that point.
“No,” Hyunjin said flatly, gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles had turned white. He was leaning forward, chest almost pressing against the steering wheel as he tried to get a glance at any sign possible.
You glanced back down at the map, squinting as you tried to figure out where you’d gone wrong. Where had you made the wrong turn? Where were you headed now? You looked back up, turning to look at Hyunjin. “I really think we need to stop and ask for directions,” you started.
“Goddamn it, Y/N, will you just shut the hell up and let me drive?!”
You flinched at the volume of his voice and fell silent. You folded up the map and placed it on the dashboard, leaning back in your seat and looking out the window to keep your boyfriend from seeing the tears that threatened to spill.
Minutes passed in silence as Hyunjin continued to drive, turning down random roads, only to hit a dead end and have to turn around, growing increasingly more and more frustrated. You said nothing, instead indulging in your own sadness as you let the tears flow silently.
“Can you look at the map and see where we are?” Hyunjin asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
You didn’t move. You heard his request but you chose to ignore it, knowing nothing you did would figure out where the hell you were. “Y/N?” Hyunjin asked, slowing to look over at you. He saw the way your arms were crossed over your chest and how you refused to look at him.
“Did you hear me?” he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He really didn’t like it when you ignored him.
“Yes,” you replied softly. “But what difference would it make?” you asked, still not turning to look at him.
“We haven’t seen any signs in hours so I can’t even pinpoint those on the map. We’re lost, Hyunjin.”
You heard him inhale sharply. “So it’s my fault, right?” he snapped and you finally turned to look at him, giving him a glance at your tear stained cheeks. “Yes, Hyunjin,” you retorted. “It is your fault. I told you we should have stopped and asked for directions when we first got off the main road but you refused to listen to me. You just kept going, insisting we didn’t need help. You aren’t a road map. You don’t have a GPS built into your head!”
Hyunjin let out a groan, rolling his eyes. “Well, will you check your phone, then?” he asked.
You grabbed it from the console and unlocked the screen, holding it up for him to see. “No service. How the fuck am I supposed to look it up when I have no service?” Hyunjin turned to glare at you. “Have you never heard of offline maps?” he snapped. “Yeah, you have to download them before you lose signal!”
“Well excuse me for not knowing that! I’m not some know-it-all bitch like you!”
Silence fell over the both of you as your stomach sank. “Stop the car,” you muttered.
Hyunjin looked back at you. “What?” he asked softly. “Stop the car,” you said a little louder. Hyunjin glanced out the windows before looking back over at you. 
“You can’t be serious--”
“Stop the fucking car, Hyunjin!”
[end flashback - the present]
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Hyunjin kept his head down, the flurries of snow hitting his hat instead of his face. He reached up to readjust the scarf around his neck to cover the lower half of his face. The cold air was sharp, biting and stinging his skin as he walked, the wind blowing through him despite his heavy coat.
“Fucking hell,” he cursed. “It’s freezing!”
As he walked, he was reminded of the time the two of you had taken a road trip to the beach and gotten lost. After an argument outside the car, he finally managed to get you back into the car and start heading back the way you’d come only to run out of gas just before you got onto the main road. He snorted as he remembered his ignorance and refusal to listen to reason.
He was young, dumb, and thought he knew everything.
He thought he was above asking for directions but he knew better now. He knew it was okay to ask for help. In that, he knew he had grown as a person at least.
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[flashback - four years ago]
“Now what,” you sighed exasperatedly as the car started to sputter, slowing as Hyunjin looked down at the dashboard. His eyes scanned for an engine light or something similar but felt his heart sink as he noticed the gas gauge was sitting on the little white E.
“Shit,” he hissed. You looked up at him. “What?” you asked as the car rolled to a stop. Hyunjin cut the engine and leaned back in his seat, letting out an annoyed huff. “We’re out of gas.”
You stared at him, stunned. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He shook his head. “I wish I were.”
You hesitated before finally moving. Hyunjin watched as you grabbed your purse and phone, hastily unbuckling your seatbelt before yanking open the car door and getting out. Hyunjin opened his door and stood up, one foot still in the car as you started walking.
“Y/N, where are you going?” he called. 
“I’m going to find a gas station!” 
Hyunjin sighed, shutting his door and starting after you. “Not by yourself, you’re not!” he called as he jogged to catch up to you. “You can’t just walk out here in the middle of nowhere by yourself, Y/N.” You ignored him and kept walking. 
He knew you were still reeling from the earlier fight.
Hyunjin caught up to you rather easily, grabbing your arm only for you to pull from his grip. “Don’t touch me!” you shouted. Hyunjin grabbed your arm again, pulling you back and turning you to face him. “Y/N,” he started as you struggled to pull out of his grip. “Don’t touch me!”
“Y/N, stop,” Hyunjin said calmly, trying to hold you in place. “Stop, stop it,” he continued.
“Y/N, stop it!” he finally shouted as he gently shook you. You stared up at him in shock before you hit his chest with your fist. “Don’t fucking yell at me!” you shouted back, hitting his chest again, albeit not very hard. Hyunjin took your face in his hands.
“Get your hands off me,” you growled, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry,” he said firmly. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he continued as you looked up at him. “And I’m sorry for not listening to you.” The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled and a sob escaped you.
Hyunjin pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered into your hair. “I shouldn’t have said that and I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” You cried softly into his chest. “I’m just frustrated,” he continued. “I know that’s no excuse. But I am sorry.”
“I got us into this mess and I’m sorry.”
He continued to hold you tightly, swaying the both of you back and forth until your sobs subsided. Hyunjin pulled back, taking your face in his hands, thumbs wiping your tears away. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go find a gas station,” he said softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.
[end flashback - the present]
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Hyunjin lifted his head, relief flooding his body as he caught sight of the driveway he’d driven past earlier. He continued down the drive, leaving deep footprints as he trudged through the deep snowfall.
As he continued, trees lining the driveway, lights from the house came into view. He continued to amble through the snow, making his way to the front porch. He hoped it wasn’t too late as he carefully climbed the steps. Hyunjin raised his fist and knocked loudly, quickly tucking his hands into his pockets.
It took a couple moments but through the frosted glass, Hyunjin could see shadows moving towards the door, the sound of the lock clicking before the door cracked open. “Yes?” a voice asked. Hyunjin pulled his scarf down, offering an awkward smile. “Hi,” he said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry to disturb you so late but my car’s slid off the road and into a ditch just down the road from your driveway,” he explained.
“My friend and I don’t have service on our phones and I was wondering if I could perhaps use a phone or if you might know someone who could help us get the car unstuck?”
The door opened a bit more to reveal an older gentleman. He had gray hair, wore round spectacles and had light blue eyes. He wore a simple gray plaid button up tucked into black pants, a dark blue cardigan over the shirt. “Your friend?” he asked, looking around for a second person.
“Yeah, she’s wearing a dress and heels,” Hyunjin explained. “We’ve just come from a party down the road,” he added, anxiety starting to build. ‘What if this man just told him to leave and slammed the door in his face?’ Hyunjin was very much aware of how suspicious this sounded.
Another figure appeared, an older woman Hyunjin assumed was the man’s wife. “Oh Larry,” she said softly. She wore a white and black floral button down blouse, a khaki maxi skirt and a light pink knit cardigan over her shirt. Her silvery hair was curled and styled. Gold wire framed glasses hung around her neck.
“They need help,” she added as she joined her husband. “Where’s the car?” the man, Larry, asked. Hyunjin pointed over his shoulder. “Just a mile down from the end of your driveway,” he answered. The man nodded and moved from the door.
“Are you hurt at all?” the woman asked and Hyunjin shook his head. “No, we’re okay. Mostly just shaken up. The car seems to be fine, too,” he added. “It’s just stuck in the ditch.” The woman offered a warm smile, putting Hyunjin’s nerves at ease.
The man returned moments later, dressed for the weather and sat on a bench to put on his boots. “Be careful,” his wife said as he got up, pulling on a thermal hood before putting on his gloves. He grabbed a shovel and stepped out onto the porch to join Hyunjin. “I’ll be back in a bit, Edi,” he said, pulling the bottom of his cowl up to cover his mouth and nose.
The door shut and Hyunjin led the way down the porch, the man, Larry following him. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this,” Hyunjin said as they walked side by side. “What’s your name, son?” the man asked him. “Hyunjin,” he answered. “Hwang Hyunjin. My friend is Y/F/N Y/L/N.”
“I’m Lawrence,” the man introduced himself. “That was my wife Edith.”
They reached the end of the driveway and started down the road to where the car sat. Hyunjin hoped that they’d be able to get the car out of the ditch so he could get you home. He didn’t want to force you to spend more time with him than necessary as it seemed you already didn’t want to be around him.
“Where did you say you were coming from, again?” Lawrence asked. “A party down the road. About ten miles. It’s my friend’s cousin’s house,” Hyunjin explained as they neared the car. Snow had begun to collect on the surface, covering the windows. “Boy, it’s really coming down,” Lawrence noted.
“You really managed to dig yourselves in here,” he added as he looked at the car. Hyunjin nodded slowly. “Yeah, honestly, we just slid right off the road and I tried to back out a few times but the back wheels couldn’t catch on anything. Too much snow.” Lawrence nodded as he walked over to the back of the car, carefully dragging his feet through the snow.
“Snow’s too powdery,” he added as he kicked at the snow. “And it’s not packed down, so you would get any traction.” Hyunjin nodded as he spoke before he remembered you sitting in the car. “I’m gonna check on Y/N,” he announced and walked over to the driver’s side door, wiping the snow away with a gloved hand. “He peered in before opening the door and looking in.
“I brought someone who might be able to help,” he explained. You nodded. Hyunjin could tell you looked cold. He kneeled onto his seat and looked behind his seat into the back of the car. He removed his glove, grabbing another blanket and tugged it out from under a duffle bag.
“Here,” he said, handing it to you. “We’re gonna try and dig the car out or pack some snow under the wheel and see if we can’t get the wheels to get any traction.” You took the second blanket and immediately spread it out over you. “What if you can’t get the car out?” you asked, your voice soft.
Hyunjin pulled his hat off and scratched the back of his head before running his fingers through his hair a couple times. “I don’t know,” he finally said, putting his hat back on. “I’ll keep you updated,” he added before getting out and shutting the door again. Hyunjin moved back around to the back of the car with Lawrence who was bent over, peering at the back wheels.
“Well,” he started as he stood up straight. “We could pack snow under these tires for hours and you probably still won’t get enough traction to get out. This embankment is too steep. You’re gonna need someone to pull her out,” he explained. Hyunjin’s heart sank as Lawrence spoke. He’d feared as much.
“What are we supposed to do?” Hyunjin asked softly. “I suppose I could call my road-side assistance,” he continued. “But they may not be able to get out here until after the snow lets up.” Lawrence nodded. “And they run the risk of getting stuck themselves.”
Hyunjin sighed, looking up and down the deserted road. “I’m sure Edi wouldn’t mind if you came and stayed with us for the night. Hopefully in the morning, the snow will have let up and the crews are out clearing the roads so you can be on your way,” Lawrence explained.
Hyunjin turned to look at him. “Wait, really?” he asked. Lawrence nodded. “Seems like your only option at this point. Otherwise you’d be forced to stay out here and that could kill you.” Hyunjin nodded and moved to the door, pulling it open and ducking down to peer in.
You looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “We won’t be able to get the car out tonight,” he started and your stomach immediately sank. “But this guy I brought said we can stay the night with him and his wife.” You perked up at the thought of a warm bed and perhaps a hot shower. “Really?” you asked and Hyunjin nodded. “You got any boots in that bag of yours?”
You nodded quickly. “I got boots and some clothes.”
Hyunjin closed the door so you could change, pulling on a pair of pants and socks, slipping on the boots you thankfully brought along before stuffing your shoes into your bag. Once you were dressed, you tried to open your door but found it was stuck. You leaned over the center console and knocked on the window.
Hyunjin turned, opening the door and peering in at you. “I can’t open my door. Something’s blocking it.” Hyunjin cursed under his breath. “Probably the snow,” he murmured. “Give me your bag,” he said, holding out a hand. You handed it to him and he set it on top of the car before leaning back in. “Hand me my duffle bag,” he instructed. 
You grabbed it from behind his seat and pulled it to the front. Hyunjin opened it, pulling out his gym gear he wouldn’t need and tossed it into the back before taking one of the blankets, folding it and stuffing it into the bag. He then set the bag with yours and leaned down one last time.
“Come on,” he said, holding his hand out. “You’re gonna have to climb out this way.”
You threw the other blanket into the backseat and started to climb, cursing under your breath as you struggled. You took his hand as you climbed into the driver’s seat and scrambled out into the snow, Hyunjin steadying you with his hands.
You murmured a thank you and looked up. “Don’t mention it,” he replied before grabbing yours and his bags. You noticed an older man standing on the road. He took the bags from Hyunjin so the two of you could focus on climbing up the embankment, Hyunjin helping pull you up onto the road.
“This is Lawrence,” Hyunjin introduced the older man standing there with a snow shovel in one hand and both of your bags in the other. “Hello,” you said breathlessly, your breath coming out in puffs. Lawrence nodded in response.
Once on level ground, you took your bag and followed them as they headed back down the road. Hyunjin made sure to lock the doors and looked sadly at his car before jogging to catch up with you and Lawrence. “My poor car,” he mumbled. You looked up at him, the cold stinging your skin and biting at the tip of your nose. “It could have been worse,” you commented.
The walk back to the house wasn’t long and soon you were walking up the steps to the porch. Lawrence let you two in first, making sure you kicked any snow off your shoes before stepping inside with him bringing up the rear. Hyunjin started to remove his coat and you followed as Lawrence hung up the shovel and also started to shed his winter gear.
An older woman came around the corner dressed in floral, khaki, and pink. She reminded you of a sweet grandmother who baked pies and knitted her grandchildren hats and scarves. “This is my wife, Edith,” Lawrence explained. You nodded at her politely. “This is Y/N,” Hyunjin introduced you and you smiled at the woman, Edith. “You look frozen,” she commented. “Come in and warm up.”
You followed Edith, leaving your cold weather gear behind as you walked into the living area.
The room was a modest size, the living room separated from the kitchen by a large kitchen island. Along the back wall was a large fireplace with a fire already going. The kitchen was a galley style, taking up the side wall of the house, a door leading to the back of the house at the other end.
“Come, come in,” Edith said, guiding you over to sit in front of the fireplace. You glanced up at Hyunjin who nodded and followed you. “Are you hungry?” Edith asked as you took a seat on the couch nearest the fireplace, letting your bag fall to your feet. Hyunjin took a seat beside and looked up at your hosts.
“I could eat,” he answered. “Y/N?” he asked. You looked up at the mention of your name. “You hungry?” Hyunjin asked. You shook your head. “Actually,” you said, looking past him at the couple. “I could really use a shower.” Edith smiled and nodded. “You get some food heated up for our guest,” she said, patting her husband’s arm.
“I’ll show you to the upstairs bathroom,” she added, turning to you. You grabbed your bag and got up, following her through the house and towards the front door. She guided you up a set of stairs, into a hallway where there were three doors. 
“This is the bathroom,” Edith said, opening a door and turning on the light. “This room next door is the office and the extra bedroom is that room there,” she continued, pointing out the different doors. “Are you sure you aren’t hungry, dear?” Edith asked as you moved to enter the bathroom.
“I’m sure,” you replied. “I ate at the party we were at earlier. I think I just need a shower and some sleep.” Edith hummed and moved into the bathroom, where she opened a small door to show you the contents. “The towels are in here,” she said softly before shutting the door.
“Just make sure to clean up any water,” she said with a smile and moved to the door. “If you change your mind after your shower, just let me know and I’ll whip something up for you.” You smiled as she exited, thanking her once again before closing the door.
You turned to the shower and pulled back the curtain, turning on the water and letting it heat up. Stepping under the stream, you sighed, letting the hot water run down your body before scrubbing away the events of the night. Once you felt you were sufficiently clean, you turned the water off and got out of the shower, grabbing a towel and starting to dry yourself off.
You chose to change into your pajamas you’d packed before stepping out of the bathroom and making your way to the bedroom. Upon opening the door, your eyes landed on the bed and sighed. ‘I can’t wait to get some sleep,’ you thought to yourself as you stepped into the room, setting your bag in a cream colored armchair near the door. In the middle of the room against the wall was a queen sized bed, cream colored linens covered the bed.
You moved over to the mattress and sat on the edge, letting out an exhausted sigh. As you were about to start getting under the covers, you heard the doorknob turn and looked up in time to see the door open and Hyunjin appear. ‘Oh no. no way.’
Hyunjin sighed, entering the door and shutting it behind him. “One bed,” he murmured, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Judging by the damp locks, you assumed he’d just taken a shower as well. “Yep,” you said, looking down at the mattress. Hyunjin shook his head before letting out a huff.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said suddenly.
You looked up at him in shock as he moved to drop his bag in the opposite corner of yours. “Hand me those extra pillows,” he continued. You started handing them to him, watching as he made himself a small, measly bed on the floor with pillows and moved to grab the blanket he’d brought from his car.
“Goodnight,” Hyunjin said as he laid down, covering himself with the blanket. You hesitated, staring down at him before finally turning off the lamp and throwing the room in darkness. The only light source coming from the flood light reflecting off the snow outside.
You turned over, your back to Hyunjin on the floor, and tried to fall asleep but you kept opening your eyes. Minutes felt like they were ticking by, the only sound being the house creaking occasionally and Hyunjin’s steady breathing.
You finally couldn’t take it anymore. You sat up, reaching over to turn on the light. “Get up,” you said.
Hyunjin sighed and lifted his head to look at you. “What?” he asked, sounding slightly annoyed.
“I said get up,” you replied. Hyunjin grumbled as he sat up, pushing himself up to his feet. 
“What?” he asked, turning to face you. “Am I breathing too loud? Do you want me to leave?”
You hit the bed beside you. “The floor can’t be comfortable. Just get in the bed.”
Hyunjin froze, staring at you with a mixture of shock and confusion.
“What?” he whispered. You looked up at him. “Just get in the bed.”
Hyunjin shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I said I’d sleep on the floor. It’s f-”
“It’s not fine and I won’t ask you again, Hyun,” you cut him off, his heart skipping a beat at the nickname he hadn’t heard in years. “Just get in the bed, please.”
He hesitated for a moment more before bending over to grab the pillows and blanket, moving around to the other side of the bed and sitting down. He replaced the pillows and pulled the blankets back, settling under them before throwing the extra blanket on top.
“And you’re sure about this?” he asked softly as you laid back down.
“Yes!” you replied, turning your head to look at him. “I’m sure.”
Hyunjin nodded, saying nothing as he turned onto his side. “Thanks,” he muttered. You reached for the light, your heart pounding at being this close in such an intimate setting after two years. “Don’t mention it,” you replied, turning off the light and throwing the room back into darkness once more.
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You awoke the next morning to find the room was bright from the light reflecting off the snow and in through the windows. Blinking the sleep away, you started to sit up when you were aware of a weight across your midsection. You glanced down, lifting the blanket to find Hyunjin’s arm wrapped around you, his chest pressed into your back.
Your stomach leapt as you tried to remain calm. You carefully removed his arm and sat up, making sure to try and not disturb him. Getting up, you walked over to one of the windows and looked out to find a thick blanket of snow had fallen during the night, covering everything in white.
You briefly wondered if the car was covered as well before you heard Hyunjin groan, starting to rouse.
You quickly moved to grab your toiletry bag and headed out of the room, down the hall into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash the remnants of sleep away.
Once you were done, you returned to the room where Hyunjin was sitting up, phone in his hands as he scrolled through his notifications. He looked up as you entered and you internally chuckled at his mess of black hair. He’d always woken up with the messiest hair.
“Morning,” he grumbled, returning his gaze to his phone.
“Morning,” you replied as you put your toiletry bag away and searched through it for something to wear.
You heard the mattress creak as Hyunjin got up and heard his feet shuffle over to the corner where his bag was. You kept your eyes down as he made his way past you and into the hall, letting the door shut behind him. You let out a breath of relief before launching into hyper speed, stripping your pajamas off and redressing.
You zipped your bag, remembering how he used to see your open bag as an invitation to root around. ‘Surely he wouldn’t…’ you thought but decided not to take the chance. You opened the bedroom door and headed out and down the stairs where the smell of coffee and food greeted you.
Walking into the kitchen, you found your hosts already up and dressed. Lawrence had donned a dark blue sweater with a white collar peeking out from the neck and a pair of thick boot cut jeans. He was sitting at the dining table, a plate of breakfast in front of him and a mug of coffee in his hand as he read the paper.
Edith turned to look at you, offering a warm smile as she cooked at the kitchen island. She’d put on a pair of khaki slacks with a white and pink heart polka dot print top, a red cardigan draped around her slender frame. 
“Morning!” she chirped and you couldn’t help but smile as you entered the kitchen. “You hungry?” she asked, to which you nodded. “Starving, actually,” you replied as the stairs creaked. “There’s coffee,” Edith said as she stirred the contents of the skillet. “Help yourself. Creamer is in the fridge and sugar is on the counter.” You moved towards the coffee pot, noticing two mugs sitting on the counter for you and Hyunjin to use.
You grabbed the red one with the words “world’s best grandma” on them. You busied yourself with fixing a cup of coffee as Hyunjin entered the kitchen, greeting Edith when she spoke. “Coffee’s over there. I’ll have your food ready soon,” Edith said as she flipped the eggs over, cutting them with the tip of the spatula.
Hyunjin moved to stand next to you, reaching for the mug but you stopped him, handing him the mug in your hands. “Cream and extra sugar, right?” you asked, making him look up from the mug at you. He nodded, taking the mug with a murmured thanks. You smiled to yourself, content with the knowledge that he was going to be drinking from a mug that said “World’s Best Grandma” as you made your own cup of coffee.
Once you’d taken a seat, Edith plated the food in the skillet and brought them over, setting both down in front of you. “I wasn’t sure what you liked,” she started. “So there’s a bit of everything.”
You smiled at her, thanking her before turning your attention back to the plate. There was an assortment of breakfast food from eggs to sausage to bacon. There was even a biscuit, already buttered and sitting open on the plate. You dug in, relishing the flavors and having a hot meal in your stomach.
“Over a foot of snow fell last night,” Lawrence said, drawing your attention as you glanced up at him. “It’s still snow,” he continued, folding the newspaper and looking up at you and Hyunjin. “There’s more on the way, according to the weather forecast. A blizzard is supposed to blow through the area.”
You swallowed thickly at this news, glancing quickly at Hyunjin to your right. His eyes were on Lawrence, looking as if he was trying to process what to say next only Lawrence beat him to it.
“Edith and I think it would be best if you two stayed another night. Just until the blizzard blows through. I’ve already called a neighbor who has agreed to help tow your car out of the ditch after the blizzard. He’s gone to uncover and dig out the car so when the blizzard arrives, we’ll have less to dig out afterwards.”
Hyunjin nodded, you could see relief wash over him. “Thank you so much,” Hyunjin finally said. Lawrence nodded, giving him a smile. “That does mean, of course,” Lawrence continued. “That we’ll need your help to prepare for the blizzard.”
You nodded, thankful they were allowing you to stay another night. “Just tell us what we need to do,” you said with a firm nod. “We’re happy to help since you’re letting us stay.” Edith interrupted with her soft voice. “Finish your breakfast first and then we’ll go over what needs to be done.”
After eating and downing another cup of coffee, Lawrence and Edith explained everything that needed to be done before the blizzard arrived. They needed more firewood chopped and brought in from the cellar. Edith needed to restock the pantry and fridge and Lawrence wanted to get up on the roof and knock down most of the snow that was up there to keep the roof from potentially buckling under the weight.
Hyunjin offered to climb the ladder so Lawrence didn’t have to. Edith voluntold you that you’d stay inside with her and help with the household chores while Lawrence and Hyunjin handled all the outdoor and heavy lifting.
After divvying up the tasks, Hyunjin and Lawrence pulled on their snow gear and headed out into the frigid white wasteland while you and Edith started cleaning up the kitchen and getting a load of laundry going. You made sure to follow her instructions carefully before setting the timer on the washer and joined her back in the kitchen.
“I’ve asked Larry to send Hyunjin up with some stuff from the cellar. It might take him a few trips,” she explained as she opened the pantry door and you peered in. You noticed that it was modestly stocked, the shelves not as full as they could have been. “We buy in bulk,” Edith continued. “And keep the majority of it down in the cellar. We’re able to buy enough groceries to keep us going for a few months.”
You said nothing as you watched her, jumping slightly when you heard a knock at the back door.
Edith walked over and opened it. Hyunjin was carrying a massive box. “Where do you want it?” he asked, his voice strained. “Set it on this,” Edith said, pulling out a small rug and setting it on the floor. Hyunjin did so and Edith thanked him. “We can just slide this over,” she added. Hyunjin nodded and turned to leave but not before stopping to look at you, catching your gaze.
You turned away wordlessly and helped Edith push the box across the wood floors to the kitchen. 
Inside the box was an assortment of refrigerated and frozen goods. You sat on a stool, pulling contents from the box to hand to Edith while she arranged them neatly in the fridge. Once you were finished, she took the box and walked over to the door just as a figure appeared behind the glass.
Hyunjin had returned with more food from the cellar. “He said this should be everything for the pantry,” Hyunjin said as he looked into the box and then up at Edith. You got up and hurried over, taking the box so the older woman wouldn’t have to. “Oh, thank you Y/N,” she said with a smile. You nodded as you shifted the box in your arms. “You got it?” Hyunjin asked softly and you looked up at him.
Your eyes met and you felt a warmth spread throughout you, something you hadn’t felt while looking at him in a long time. There was a look on his face. Part of it was concern, but the rest of it was nothing but compassion. “I can carry it if it’s too heavy,” he added.
You shook your head. “It’s okay,” you replied. “I got it, Hyun.”
He nodded, glancing at Edith as she watched the exchange with something akin to adoration in her eyes. “Okay,” he replied. “Well, I’ll just go help Lawrence chop wood or something,” he murmured, cheeks turning a shade of pink. Whether it was from your exchange or the cold you couldn’t tell.
Hyunjin left, allowing Edith to close the door and lead you over to the kitchen where you set the box on the floor and moved the stool so you could start to pull cans out of the box and set them on the counter while Edith took note of everything, checking it off her list. Once you emptied the box, Edith took it back over to the door, setting it to the side.
You said nothing as she started grabbing the cans from the counter and putting them in the pantry, arranging them on the shelves the way she liked them. While she worked, you continued to pull cans out of the box, your mind wandering.
Ever since you’d run into Hyunjin again, something has been different. The usual tension you felt in his presence seemed to be missing. It was like after two years apart, you were strangers again. Strangers who had grown apart but also grown up and changed, possibly for the better?
You couldn’t be sure but something was definitely different about Hyunjin, that much you were sure of.
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“So,” Edith’s voice brought you from your thoughts. You turned to look at her. “How long have you two kids been together?” You stared at her in stunned silence. ’What?’ You shook your head slowly.
“We’re not together,” you answered. Edith gave you a surprised wide-eyed look. “Oh, I’m sorry dear,” she replied. “I thought you were together. My mistake for assuming.” You stared at her as she turned away, putting the items from the cellar into the cabinets. “We used to be,” you finally admitted.
Edith turned to look at you. “Hyunjin and I used to be together.”
She offered a kind smile. “I thought there was something there,” she said softly, moving to grab more cans. “What ended it?” You glanced up, watching as she neatly stacked the cans in the cabinet. “We weren’t exactly good for each other,” you admitted. “We fought a lot.”
Edith nodded wordlessly before turning one last time to look at you as she gathered the last of the cans.
“Fights happen, dear,” she replied. “It’s normal to fight from time to time.”
You shook your head, playing with your fingers as you avoided her gaze.
“It wasn’t just every once in a while,” you explained. “It was almost every other day until it became everyday. We were both insecure, accusing the other of cheating. I would demand to know where he was every minute and he retaliated by demanding to go through my phone. We had a lot of issues and our break up was inevitable and honestly, we’re better off.”
Edith pursed her lips as she finished gathering the cans, turning to the pantry to finish stocking it.
“Sometimes insecurities can drive a wedge between one another,” she started. “But there had to be a reason you stayed together,” she added, turning back around as she closed the pantry door. Your cheeks burned. “I’m not sure why we stayed together so long,” you admitted.
It was the truth. You couldn’t recall why you and Hyunjin stayed together for so long. Without the fights, you couldn’t recall many positive memories. You were both young, working and finishing college. You shared an apartment for convenience and for costs as well but you hardly spent time there.
You were mostly at school, work, or the library studying. The apartment was for food and sleeping. You only ever saw Hyunjin in passing or on the rare occasion you both had time off from work. At first, those sparse moments of time together were spent enjoying some time to relax from your exhaustive lifestyles. You weren’t exactly sure when things got bad just that one day, the fights started and didn’t stop.
The makeup sex was always fantastic but the moments of peace didn’t last long and soon you were at each other’s throats again. It was a vicious cycle that continued until you inevitably ended things.
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[flashback - two years ago]
The apartment was cold and empty when you returned from work. ‘Hyunjin must not be home,’ you told yourself as you slipped your shoes off and set your bag on the kitchen counter. You moved towards the bedroom, entering and starting to strip as you felt like you were pulling off the weight of the day.
It had been a rough few days at work and it was starting to wear you down. Not to mention you had been doing the bulk of the housework as your boyfriend was never home anymore, always working or not being around you. It didn’t bother you like it used to. You were used to this by now.
Once you were in some clean clothes, you headed back to the kitchen to make yourself something to eat, noticing the dirty pot Hyunjin no doubt used to make ramyeon earlier. You weren’t sure why but seeing that small piece of cookware just sitting on the counter made your blood boil.
‘So he can cook and eat here but he can’t clean up after himself?’
You scoffed as you moved to the sink, picking up the pot and starting to wash it, scrubbing it with a sponge. You finished rinsing it and set it to dry as the front door opened, Hyunjin entered with a heavy sigh as he shut the door and kicked his shoes off by the door.
He started to pass the kitchen and caught sight of you standing by the sink.
“Oh, you’re home,” he said and you could detect a bite of animosity to his tone. How dare he.
You whipped around, anger taking over your form as you unloaded on him.
“Of course I’m here,” you snapped. “Where else would I be?”
Hyunjin’s brows rose for a moment before a frown appeared on his face. “I never know where you are anymore,” he snapped back. “Working, Hyunjin! I’m working! That’s all I ever do!” you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration.
“I go to work, I bust my ass and then I come back here and I still have to work because you can’t seem to clean up after yourself!”
Hyunjin narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?” he asked as he let his own bag fall to the ground with a thump. “I’m hardly ever here. What is there to clean up?”
“Dishes! You make yourself food and then leave the dishes sitting on the counter and I have to clean them up otherwise they will pile up!” you shouted. Hyunjin rolled his eyes, setting you off further. “I was going to clean that up,” he started. “I was just in a rush to get out of the house for a meeting. I work, too, you know.”
You could feel your blood boiling. “Oh, is that what you call it?” you asked sarcastically. “Meeting with your boss’ secretary again?” you snapped. Hyunjin groaned, rolling his eyes again. “She’s my coworker! How many times do I have to tell you, there’s nothing going on there!”
You ignored him, moving to the fridge, yanking the door open to hide him from your line of sight. You stared into the fridge at the contents, trying to figure out what to make yourself for dinner. Silence fell over the two of you before Hyunjin spoke.
“So, what’s for dinner?”
You slammed the door shut, rounding on him. “Nothing!” you spat. “You can make yourself something. I’m going to bed.”
You stormed past him, not noticing the way he turned to look at you in shock.
“But you haven’t eaten!” he called as you reached the bedroom and slammed the door shut.
Hyunjin sighed and turned back to the kitchen, moving to open the door and inspect the fridge contents. He grabbed several of the items and moved to the stove, grabbing the now clean pot. He’d just make something simple and split it with you.
You laid on your side, knees curled up as silent tears flowed. You couldn’t keep doing this. It wasn’t working. You’d done nothing but fight with Hyunjin for as long as you could remember. You couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had a civil conversation.
As you laid there, a soft knock sounded on the wood of the door. You quickly wiped your eyes but remained silent. You heard the click of the latch as Hyunjin turned the knob and pushed the door open with a quiet creak.
“Y/N?” he called in a whisper. You ignored him, keeping your back turned. “I made some food. I brought yours.” You heard him enter the room fully now and move to your side of the bed. There was a gentle thud as he set presumably a bowl on the bedside table before a light clicked on.
You felt the bed dip as he sat on the edge of the mattress behind you.
“Babe,” he said softly, placing his hand gently on your arm. “You sleeping?”
You shook your head wordlessly. You felt his thumb trace soft circles against your sleeve.
“Baby,” he started, leaning over slightly. “You need to eat something.”
“M’not hungry,” you croaked. Your voice sounded awful from the silent sobbing you’d been doing since you slammed the door earlier. Hyunjin tugged you onto your back, looking down at you with concern. “Are you sick?” he asked, moving his hand to feel your forehead. You pushed his hand away.
“No,” you replied and tried to turn back over but he stopped you.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, preventing you from rolling away from him. 
“Talk to me.”
You let out a weak laugh. “Talk. Yeah, we haven’t talked in ages, Hyun.” His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” he asked, moving his hand to cup your cheek. You pushed his hand away again. “We don’t talk, Hyunjin,” you replied. “We fight. That’s all we ever do when we’re together. I can’t remember the last time we had an actual conversation that didn’t result in one of us coming in here and slamming the door.”
A look of hurt flashed over Hyunjin’s face. “It’s just a rough spot,” he murmured. “We’re both swamped with work. It’ll work itself out,” he continued. You shook your head. “No it won’t,” you replied. Hyunjin watched as you sat up before moving to take your face in his hands. “Let’s just forget it. I’m sorry,” he said softly, thumbs caressing your cheeks. “I shouldn’t have left my mess for you to clean up. I should have managed my time better.”
Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips. Normally, you would have melted into his kisses but you were too numb now, having spent the last hour in a dark room making up your mind to do what you’d been dreading to do.
But knowing it was what you needed to do.
Hyunjin pulled back to look at you. “Y/N?” he asked softly. You took a deep breath and looked up to meet his curious gaze. “Hyunjin,” you started, your heart hammering in your chest, stomach churning at what you were about to say.
“We need to break up.”
[end flashback - the present]
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You blinked as the memory leading up to your break up with Hyunjin dissipated into the background as you returned to the reality in front of you. Edith was looking at you with the expression you imagined a wise old sage would give before giving some kind of ancient wisdom.
“I don’t know,” she said softly. “The way he looks at you says another story.”
Your eyes widened slightly. ‘The way he looks at me?’ you wondered. ‘What does she mean by that?’
“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, shaking your head. Edith chuckled softly. “It just means that maybe there’s still something there, on his end.” You fell silent, thinking back to your recent interactions with Hyunjin but not finding anything that would even remotely paint the picture Edith was imagining.
That was it, she had to be imagining. Projecting hers and Lawrence’s happiness onto you and Hyunjin. There was no other explanation.
You forced a smile. “I highly doubt that,” you replied quietly, still grateful all the same. Edith sighed and shook her head. “You never know if you don’t ask,” she started. “But what do I know? I’m just an outsider, dear,” she added, moving to pat your hand before she moved to start dinner.
“Be a dear, and give me a hand,” she half asked. You nodded, standing up and moving to her side. 
“How can I help?”
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“How much more wood do we need?” Hyunjin asked as he loaded another armful of firewood in his arms. “Just a few more bundles,” Lawrence answered as he started to grab pieces as well. They’d spent part of the afternoon salting the pathway from the doors to the cellar to make sure they could get down there if needed. Hyunjin had cleared the snow away with a shovel for Lawrence to follow.
They’d then spent some time chopping wood for the fireplaces just in case the power went out. Hyunjin learned a lot from Lawrence including how he and Edith met, how long they’d been married, and how long they’d lived in this house.
“Take those to the back door and come back to get one more bundle,” Lawrence instructed as Hyunjin headed towards the steps leading out of the cellar. He nodded and climbed the steps, following the shoveled path to deposit the wood by the back door.
He stopped as he stood up straight, catching a glimpse of you through the glass as you helped Edith in the kitchen, chatting away as you cooked. He watched as you threw your head back, a laugh escaping you. It was a sound he hadn’t heard in years. A sound he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss it.
He could recall plenty of times you’d both been happy in your relationship but he couldn’t seem to pinpoint the last time you’d been happy together. When you suggested breaking up, he panicked. He threw out promises to do better, to be better. He reiterated how much he loved you.
He didn’t want to lose you but ultimately he did. You offered to leave the apartment but he refused, telling you to stay and he could move in with a friend. It was a last minute situation, crashing on his friend’s couch. He stayed there until he was able to find a place of his own and came back to get his things.
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[flashback - two years ago]
Hyunjin looked up at the building, letting out a sigh as he tried to calm his nerves.
He really didn’t want to do this but he had no choice. He didn’t have the money to replace his things and he was sure you were sick of having his shit in the apartment.
He finally willed himself to move, putting one foot in front of the other and entering the building. As he waited for the elevator, he contemplated chickening out and asking you to send him his stuff instead but he knew you’d be angrier than if he just showed up.
The ride up to your floor was shorter than he remembered and soon he was standing in front of your door. He raised his fist to knock but hesitated when he heard laughter coming from behind the door. It was your laughter but there was another voice as well.
His heart sank as it dawned on him that another man might be in the apartment with you. Suddenly chickening out and facing your wrath seemed like an easier option than facing whatever was waiting for him behind the door. Seeing as he’d already made the trip here, he knocked three times, his knuckles feeling sore at the force he put behind it.
There was a moment of silence before he heard the familiar click of the lock turning before the door opened and your face appeared. Each time Hyunjin saw you, it took his breath away. You were still just as beautiful as the day he left, even more so because you looked healthier.
Happier.
“I uh, came to get the rest of my stuff,” he murmured softly. You nodded, taking a step back and pulling the door open for him. Inside the apartment was unrecognizable. What was once your shared space had changed. The furniture was gone, boxes taped shut and labeled stacked neatly against the wall.
The cabinets had been emptied and cleaned. Standing in the kitchen was a man Hyunjin had never seen before. He stared at the man as he cleaned the stove, making sure to scrub the surface well. He turned and met Hyunjin’s gaze. You must have noticed Hyunjin’s reluctance to move because you moved to introduce the man.
“This is my coworker, Minho,” you explained. ‘Coworker?’ Panic spread throughout his body. Had he been correct in assuming you were sleeping around behind his back? Footsteps pulled him from his thoughts and he turned to find yet another man entering the living room, carrying another box.
“That’s everything from the bedroom,” he announced as he carried the box over to the others along the wall and set it down. Hyunjin eyed the second man before glancing at you for confirmation. “And this is Minho’s partner, Jisung,” you added, gesturing to the second man who smiled warmly.
‘Partner? So you hadn’t been sleeping with your coworker?’
“Uh, hi,” Hyunjin answered meekly. When did he become so soft-spoken? Especially around you? The break up had really done a number on him. His confidence had dropped drastically and he’d been a mess. He spent a lot of the first week crying himself to sleep on his friend’s couch. He couldn’t even find it in him to be angry. He just wanted you back.
“Your boxes are over here,” you said, beckoning to follow you and leading him to the corner of the living room opposite the door. “I made sure to keep them separate from mine and I went ahead and labeled them so you’d know what’s in them,” you explained. Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat. Even now, you were still looking out for him. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble,” Hyunjin said softly.
You shook your head, dismissing his concern with your hand. “I had to label mine anyway, so it wasn’t any trouble. Do you need help carrying them down to your car?” you asked, looking up at him. He almost shook his head but was interrupted by the man in your kitchen, Minho. “Ji’s done bringing the boxes from the kitchen, he can help you carry your stuff down,” he offered, looking at Jisung who smiled and nodded. “Yeah,” Jisung replied, walking over to where the two of you stood.
“Then we can load your stuff up,” Jisung added, turning to look at you. “We still have to set up your room,” he added with a nudge. Hyunjin looked between the two of you, a brow raised. “Her room?” he asked subtly. Jisung nodded. “Y/N’s moving into our spare bedroom and helping with rent!”
You smiled sheepishly at Jisung, turning to catch the look on Hyunjin’s face. He looked confused. “I tried to find an apartment,” you explained. “But nothing was in my price range.”
Hyunjin felt guilty even though he knew it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t expected you to leave the apartment but then again, he should have guessed it would happen as it was far out of your range alone. “I see,” he said softly. “Let’s get these down to your car,” Jisung said, breaking the awkward tension and picking up a couple boxes.
Hyunjin moved to grab one as Minho finished cleaning the stove. “There,” he said with a smug smile. “There’s no way you aren’t getting back that deposit,” he continued, sending a wink your way. Hyunjin continued walking, following Jisung to the elevator which was thankfully still on the floor.
The ride down was silent as neither wanted to be the one to speak first. Silently, the two carried the boxes out to Hyunjin’s car that was waiting by the curb. “Where d’you want these?” Jisung asked as Hyunjin unlocked the car, balancing the box in his arms against his chest. “Just in the backseat,” Hyunjin replied.
The two silently loaded the car and went back for more.
On the ride up in the elevator, Hyunjin finally spoke. “Make sure she eats,” he said softly, not looking at Jisung. From his periphery, he could tell the man had turned his head to look at him. “Sometimes she gets so engrossed in her work she forgets to eat. And make sure she takes her medicine. She forgets that sometimes, too.” Jisung said nothing, nodding instead wordlessly.
Upon entering the apartment, Hyunjin found you standing alone by the window, looking out over the city.
He walked over silently, grabbing a box as Jisung grabbed the last box and headed out into the hall. Hyunjin stared at you, the realization that this would be the last time he ever saw you dawning on him. He needed to say something. Say anything. He just needed you to look at him one last time.
“Y/N,” he said suddenly. You turned to look at him, tearing your gaze away from the window.
The two of you stood there, unmoving as you stared at one another, silence falling over you.
This was it. Hyunjin needed to say something. To tell you one last time how much he loved you.
His voice faltered and the words slipped from his grasp. You offered him a kind smile.
“Good luck, Hyunjin,” you said softly. “Live a good life.”
Hyunjin hesitated, his words failing him yet again before he uttered a simple “you, too.”
He turned away, forcing himself to head for the door despite his heart telling him to go back. Go back to you and bed for your forgiveness. To beg for a second chance. To pull you into a hug, hold you in his arms one last time. Kiss you and tell you he loved you and always would.
But instead of doing any of that, he went down to his car, throwing the last of the boxes with his shit in them, thanking Jisung, and getting into the driver’s seat. He drove straight to his apartment and sat in the quiet car as he fought the urge to cry. To sob. To scream. To do anything.
Just like that, you were gone from his life and he would never see you again.
[end flashback - the present]
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Hyunjin forced himself to turn away from the door and head back down into the cellar. Lawrence had finished collecting a pile of wood and smiled as Hyunjin started to collect more. “Once you’re done, meet me inside and we’ll put the firewood in the holder and I can show you how to light one.”
Hyunjin nodded wordlessly as he gathered wood, listening to the sound of Lawrence retreating. He was trying to make sense of everything. Meeting you again like this two years after your break up. It had to mean something but Hyunjin wasn’t sure what it meant.
Was it pure coincidence? Was the universe giving him a second chance? Did it mean nothing and just that the two of you were sharing the same group of friends? He had too many questions and none of the answers.
Hyunjin climbed the stairs out of the cellar one last time, using his foot to close the door before heading to the backdoor and climbing onto the stoop where he kicked off the snow on his boots. He struggled to open the door and felt relieved when it opened for him, bringing him face to face with you.
You smiled warmly at him. “Saw you struggling out here,” you explained as you stepped back, holding the door open for him to enter. Hyunjin thanked you, making sure to wipe his feet and moving over to where Lawrence was ready to take the wood.
With his hands free, Hyunjin was able to remove his shoes and cold weather gear before walking over to where Lawrence was crouched by the fire. Hyunjin joined him, glancing back over his shoulder at you as you helped Edith in the kitchen.
“She seems like a lovely young lady,” Lawrence said softly, drawing Hyunjin’s focus away from you. He met the older man’s eyes and cleared his throat. “Yeah,” Hyunjin replied. “She is,” he added. “I sense some hesitation?” Lawrence asked, Hyunjin nodding silently.
“She’s my ex-girlfriend,” Hyunjin said softly, a sadness falling over him like the flurries of snow outside. Lawrence was silent for a moment before speaking. “How long ago did it end?” he asked as he grabbed a few logs of firewood and placed them in the hearth.
“Two years,” Hyunjin replied, not daring to look back at you for fear that you were watching them.
“How long were you together?”
“Six years,” Hyunjin answered. He heard Lawrence click his tongue as he grabbed a canister of fuel. “Two years isn’t a long time,” he muttered as he flipped the cap and poured a generous amount of the fuel onto the logs and set it aside. “Not nearly enough time to undo everything that happens in six.”
Hyunjin let out a sigh. “We fought a lot,” he explained. “Too much if I’m honest.” Lawrence nodded as he pulled out a box of matches and handed them to Hyunjin. “Fights happen,” he replied. “Lord knows Edith and I have had our fair share over the course of our relationship. There were times I was sure we wouldn’t last.” Hyunjin looked at him with wide eyes.
“All I’m saying is that it seems like the universe has given you a second chance. You just have to make sure you strike hard and true,” he added, tapping on the box of matches. Hyunjin glanced down at the box and opened it quickly, pulling out a match. He scraped the end against the side of the box, lighting the match easily. 
Lawrence nodded at the hearth and Hyunjin tossed the match into the fuel soaked firewood which caught quickly. Lawrence used a poker to push the logs around to make sure the fire spread evenly before grabbing the cover and placing it in front of the open hearth.
“Let’s see if they need a hand in the kitchen,” Lawrence said with a smile, gesturing towards the kitchen where you and Edith were still cooking away. Hyunjin hesitated, looking at you as you tested a sauce you were making. You let Edith try some and he couldn’t help the smile that started to spread when Edith nodded and smiled, turning back to her project.
Hyunjin walked over behind Lawrence who stopped at the kitchen island. “You two look like you’re having way too much fun,” he stated sternly. “We’re just cooking,” Edith replied as she turned over the food in the skillet. “Y/N here has a talent for it.”
Hyunjin nodded, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, she does,” he said softly. Your eyes lifted to meet his and he could have sworn time stood still. The two of you staring at one another as if nothing else in the world existed. His heart hammered in his chest and just as quickly as it started, you looked away and time started up again, the sounds of cooking returning.
“Well,” Lawrence asked, leaning over to see into the skillet his wife was using. “Need a hand?”
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After Edith effectively kicked her husband out of the kitchen, Hyunjin in tow, the two worked to make sure all the windows were locked and shutters shut for the incoming storm. The last thing the couple needed was a broken window from wind.
Once Hyunjin was certain the windows in the spare bedroom were shut tight and locked, he started for the door, stopping to look at your bag lying innocently in the chair in the corner of the room. The urge to look through it crossed his mind but as he moved over, he simply closed it and headed back to the door, turning off the light and heading for the stairs.
Downstairs, Lawrence was helping transfer the prepared food over to the table as you filled water glasses. Lawrence sat in his usual spot with Edith to his left. Hyunjin took a seat across from Lawrence, thanking you as you set a glass of water in front of him. You smiled at him before pouring another glass and setting it down in front of your place.
You turned away and Hyunjin forced himself to look away and not follow your movements.
Once you took your seat, Lawrence said grace and you started to help Edith serve the food. Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel like his life could have been like this had your relationship gone in a different direction. “Thanks,” he murmured as you handed him his plate, loaded with food.
Edith made you sit so she could serve you, which you protested against but eventually gave in, taking your seat and thanking her when your plate was also full. The four of you ate mostly in silence, only answering questions when asked. “Did you get a lot of firewood chopped?” Edith asked her husband.
Lawrence nodded, swallowing his bite. “We did. Hyunjin is a natural at chopping,” he added, giving Hyunjin a smile. “Oh no,” Hyunjin said with a shake of his head. “I was struggling a lot,” he added with a chuckle. “Nonsense,” Lawrence replied. “You did a lot better than most.”
Hyunjin thanked Lawrence for his compliment, returning his focus to his food.
The rest of dinner followed in mostly silence until no one else could anymore. “We’ll do the dishes,” Lawrence announced. “You ladies relax.” Edith lightly hit Lawrence with her napkin. “Sit,” she said in faux sternness. “Could you clean up the leftovers, Y/N?” she asked and you nodded, getting to your feet quickly. Edith cleared the plates as you packed away the leftovers and put them in the fridge before grabbing the rest of the dishes and moving to help her.
Hyunjin stared at you from his seat, watching you with a fond expression as you took the rinsed dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. Once this task was complete, you returned to the table with two small plates each with a slice of pie. You set one down in front of Lawrence who chuckled. “When did you make this?” he asked his wife. “I didn’t,” she replied.
“Y/N did.”
You smiled as you moved around to set the other plate in front of Hyunjin. “Cherry cobbler pie?” he asked, looking up to meet your gaze. You nodded slowly. “You remember?” you asked him softly and he nodded. “Of course. It was my favorite.”
Your cheeks burned as you turned away.
You knew Hyunjin had always loved the pies you liked to experiment with and bake but you never expected him to remember the Cherry Cobbler Pie. You returned to grab the other two slices, setting one down for Edith before taking your seat and setting your plate down.
Edith joined the table moments later and the four of you dug in. Edith smiled after the first bite. “So it’s a cherry pie?” she asked. You shook your head, your mouth still full. “It’s a mix between a cobbler and a pie,” Hyunjin explained. “She makes the bottom a pie crust but the top is a streusel.”
You looked up at him, eyes wide. He gave you a smile before taking another bite.
“You’ve had this before?” Edith asked with a knowing smile. Hyunjin nodded, swallowing. “I was the first to try it,” he replied. “I was there the day she made it.” You looked down at your slice, a lump forming in your throat. Just how much of these little things did he remember? You were certain he didn’t remember any of it. After the day he left and the way he left the apartment the day he picked up his stuff.
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After dessert, you offered to do the rest of the dishes alone to let Edith rest. Hyunjin was quick to join you, getting up and offering a helping hand. You stood in the kitchen, side by side as you rinsed the dishes and handed them to him to put in the dishwasher.
Hyunjin glanced back at the living room where Edith and Lawrence were sitting together on the sofa, the tv playing quietly in the background. He turned back, catching sight of you as you rinsed the dishes silently and handed them to him. It wasn’t awkward or hostile. It was a comfortable silence.
The snow outside had started to pick up more and the sun had completely set by the time dinner was ready. “Are you tired?” Hyunjin asked you suddenly, breaking the silence but only enough for you to hear him. You looked up to meet his gaze. You nodded. “Today was exhausting,” you replied, turning your attention back to the dishes. “I can’t even imagine how tired you are from chopping firewood and hauling it in here,” you continued.
Hyunjin shrugged. “It’s not that bad,” he replied.
You shut off the water as you handed him the last of the dishes and removed the gloves, setting them aside to dry as Hyunjin finished filling the dishwasher and shut it. He turned to look at you. “Do you want to go to bed?” he asked. “It’s okay,” you shook your head. “I can tough it out.”
Hyunjin chuckled at your determination. “You can go to bed,” he said softly. His hand twitched as he resisted the urge to reach up and caress your cheek as he would have done in the past. Before the break up. Before the fights. Back to a time when you were both happy.
“Would you like to watch a movie?” Edith’s voice called and you staved off a yawn. “Sure!” you called back and turned away from Hyunjin, walking over to the living room. You took a seat on the other sofa, Hyunjin occupying the space beside you.
Lawrence started the movie and you tried to focus on it instead of Hyunjin’s body next to yours. A cold chill ran up your spine and Hyunjin quickly grabbed a blanket, pulling it over your laps as he settled back beside you.
About halfway through the movie, your eyes fluttered shut as sleep overtook you.
Hyunjin noticed you were sleeping when you gently slumped over against him. He moved his arm around your shoulders, allowing you to sleep as he kept his eyes on the TV screen but he couldn’t help glancing down, admiring your peaceful expression as you slept.
When the movie ended, Edith and Lawrence chuckled softly at the sight of you fast asleep against Hyunjin. “I’ll take her upstairs,” he said softly, pulling the blanket gently from your laps. “Y/N,” he said softly, giving you a gentle shake until you started to rouse.
“The movie’s over,” Hyunjin said softly. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”
Once he finally got you on your feet, Hyunjin guided you to the stairs, calling goodnight to your hosts before he started the arduous task of helping you climb the stairs in your half-asleep state. Once at the top of the stairs, he guided you to the bedroom and shut the door.
He dug out your pajamas from your bag and set them on the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he announced, moving to the door. He went to the bathroom to do his business and when he returned, he was relieved that you managed to change your clothes. He quickly changed his pants when your back was turned, pulling his shirt off as his mind wandered.
“They really love each other,” Hyunjin said as he pulled his sleeping shirt over his head. You glanced up at him from your spot on the bed. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking away as Hyunjin turned, making his way to his side of the bed. “They really do.”
You felt the mattress dip behind you as Hyunjin sat down, pulling the covers over as he laid down. You hesitated. Could you share a bed with him after the thoughts and memories you did earlier? You shook your head, mentally willing the thoughts away and laid down, your back to your ex.
You murmured a goodnight, reaching up and turning the bedside lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. Silence fell over the two of you as you tried to force yourself to fall asleep. 
“Y/N?” Hyunjin’s voice broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “Hmm?” you hummed.
“...do you miss it?” Your eyes popped open and you rolled over onto your back to look back at Hyunjin. “Miss what?” you asked, though you had a sinking suspicion what he was going to say.
“Us.” ‘There it is.’
You hesitated, taking a deep breath before answering him. “Hyunjin,” you started.
“We broke up for a reason.” He fell silent, letting your words sink in before he spoke.
“I know,” he answered. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss things.”
“Miss what? The arguments? The constant fighting?”
Hyunjin turned his head to look at you. “Is that all you remember?” he asked softly, looking mildly surprised. You shrugged. “It’s hard to remember anything else,” you admitted. Hyunjin turned onto his side to face you. “You want to know what I remember?” he asked, his voice still just above a whisper.
“What?” you asked, wondering what he could possibly remember from your relationship.
“I remember that old run down truck you used to have and how we used to go ‘camping’ where we’d throw an inflatable mattress in the bed and take blankets and pillows. Then we’d drive out to an old abandoned field and watch the stars.”
Your heart skipped a beat as the memory came to the forefront of your mind.
Your old black beat up pickup truck. The paint was peeling in places and part of the bed was rusted but you refused to get rid of it until the engine eventually quit. The camping had been Hyunjin’s idea. You’d had a bad day at work and managed to score the next two days off and Hyunjin decided to go to the store, making you drive. He grabbed the mattress and some other essentials.
He instructed you where to drive and where to park before getting out and setting up the mattress in the bed and grabbing the pillows and blankets he dragged from your apartment. He then made you get into the back with him. That night, you lay under the blanket of darkness, looking up at the sparkling stars and just existed. No worries, no talking.
It was one of the few times you and Hyunjin hadn’t fought.
“That was also the first night I said I loved you,” Hyunjin added softly, pulling you from your thoughts. You stared at him in silence, too shocked to say anything. “I also remember the time you tried to make french toast,” he continued, a chuckle slipping out. “And you burnt everything to a crisp!”
He was laughing now and you lightly slapped his shoulder. “Lawrence and Edith are sleeping!” you hissed but couldn’t stop the smile that started to spread across your face. You remembered that moment, too. “It tasted awful!” Hyunjin added. You rolled your eyes.
“I told you that you didn’t have to eat it!” you reminded him. “My girlfriend went out of her way to make me breakfast in bed. How could I not eat it?” The mention of the word girlfriend made your heart jump again. You stared at him, the only light being from the flood light outside reflecting off the snow.
Hyunjin pushed himself up onto his elbow to see your face better. “I miss that,” he replied. “Miss what? My cooking mishaps?” you asked with a scoff. Hyunjin chuckled but shook his head, reaching a hand out to cup your cheek. “Calling you my girlfriend,” he replied softly. You stared up at him, heat radiating from his palm against your cheek. “Hyun,” you whisper.
You needed to stop him. ‘This is dangerous territory. You’re sharing a bed in an elderly couple’s home in the middle of a snowstorm.’ “What?” he asked softly, leaning closer, hovering over you now. ‘We shouldn’t,’ part of you wanted to say. ‘We can’t.’ You had to stop him but part of you didn’t want to.
So instead, you said nothing, instead staring up at him silently. Hyunjin’s eyes dipped down to look at your lips once before he leaned in, closing the distance and pressing his lips against yours. You accepted the gesture, arms snaking around his neck and pulling him closer.
You knew this shouldn’t happen but what was one last time?
Hyunjin pulled back, lips just inches from yours. “Y/N,” he murmured, his hand moving to your waist. “Maybe we shouldn’t--”
You cut him off with another kiss, this time pulling him over you. Hyunjin followed your movements, careful not to put his weight on you as he settled between your thighs. “Fuck,” Hyunjin groaned, rolling his hips against yours, eliciting a moan from you.
His lips left a trail of kisses down the side of your neck, stopping to nip at the spot where your shoulder met your neck. Your thighs tightened around his waist, another mewl leaving your lips. You felt his hand push your shirt up, immediately taking one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue circling it as he sucked. “H-Hyunjin,” you whispered. He pulled back, looking at you with wide eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse. “Nothing,” you breathed, moving a hand up to grip his hair, guiding his head back down to your chest. “Just feels good.” Hyunjin wasted no time, taking your nipple back on his mouth, one of his hands tucked under your back against the mattress while the other trailed down your body, sneaking between your bodies as he fumbled to push your shorts and underwear aside.
You let out another moan as his fingers found your slick entrance, tracing it before spreading your lips and finding your clit. “I forgot how wet you get,” Hyunjin groaned. “I could just slide right in.”
As if to demonstrate his point, he eased one of his fingers into you, almost with a sigh as if it brought him some sort of relief. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you, adding a second slowly and marveling at the way your walls sucked him in.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he murmured, lips leaving your chest to meet yours in a sloppy kiss. You moaned into his lips as his fingers continued to move, scissoring you open. It had been so long since you’d had sex with anyone that you were sure the last time you did was with Hyunjin before your inevitable break up.
But now, it was like no time had passed. Hyunjin still knew your body just like he did before. He knew what you liked and didn’t like as it hadn’t had time to change. It wasn’t like the first time you ever had sex with him. He wasn’t a nervous wreck, murmuring a sorry every five minutes.
He was a practiced lover, having had years to get accustomed to your body and you to his.
You let out a whine as Hyunjin pulled his fingers from your cunt, pressing a tender kiss against your collar before bringing his fingers to his mouth, cleaning them of your arousal. “Hyun,” you started but he cut you off with another kiss, groaning as you tasted yourself on his tongue.
He started to kiss his way down your neck again, down your chest and stomach as he reached the waistband of your shorts. He pulled them down, pulling your panties along with them and discarding them on the floor. He continued to kiss down your exposed skin until his head was between your thighs.
He pressed a quick kiss to your thigh before diving into you, spreading your folds and giving your sex a slow lick, almost groaning at the taste. You felt his lips wrap around your clit and you gasped out a moan, louder than you had intended.
“Shh,” Hyunjin whispered, lifting his head to look at you. “We have to keep it down,” he added. You nodded, murmuring out an apology. Hyunjin’s head dipped down, tongue flattening against your clit once more. Your hands snaked down, fingers curling in his hair as his tongue teased you closer and closer to the edge.
You warned him you were close and regretted it immediately as he pulled back. “Not yet,” he growled as you whined, trying to push his head back down. “Wanna cum together.” You sat up and pushed him down onto the bed, ignoring the squeaking of the frame as you struggled to pull his pants down.
Hyunjin fought the urge to laugh at your impatience as you managed to pull his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock from its confines. The laughter died before he could even let it out when he felt your fingers wrap around his cock. He shuddered as you spit on the tip, using it to lubricate your movements, stroking him quickly.
“Shit, baby,” Hyunjin hissed. “Slow down.”
You hummed in response but didn’t listen to his request. You added more spit and continued to pump your hand, looking up to meet his heated gaze. Your lips curled into a smirk and he narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed, knowing the look in your eye.
“Then fuck me already.”
Hyunjin grabbed your wrist, pulled your hand off him and pushed you onto your back, settling between your thighs as he took his length in his own hand, guiding the tip to your slit. “Only because you asked so nicely,” he murmured as he rubbed against you before pushing into you.
“Oh, shit!” you gasped as he slid into you. You glanced up at him, taking in his messy hair and flushed cheeks. His lips were swollen from your kisses, still glistening from tasting you earlier. You tugged at the base of his shirt, drawing his attention as he bottomed out.
“Off,” you whined. Hyunjin chuckled, grabbing his shirt and pulling it off, tossing it aside before he leaned over, placing his hands on either side of your head on the mattress. His hips pulled back only slightly before giving you a measure thrusts, making sure there wasn’t any restriction or discomfort.
“I’m fine,” you gasped, grabbing his bicep and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Just move, please.”
Hyunjin took your pleas to heart, snapping his hips and driving his cock into you. You moaned as softly as you could manage. Hyunjin set a firm but steady pace, losing himself in the feeling of your warm walls enveloping him, fluttering as each thrust pushed you towards the edge.
“Slowly,” he reminded himself verbally. “Wanna cum together.”
You whined as he slowed to a roll, the head of his cock brushing against the spongy soft spot inside you. “Oh fuck, Hyunjin!” 
Hyunjin gave you a lopsided grin as he aimed for the same spot. “Right there, yeah?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.
“Feels good when I fuck you, doesn’t it?” he asked, keeping his eyes on your face as he watched it contort in pleasure. “Only I know how to properly fuck you, isn’t that right?” You nodded, letting out a mewl as he slammed into you, punctuating his words.
“Say it, baby. I need to hear it.”
“Only you can fuck me right, Hyun.”
You heard him groan as his hips stuttered. “Only you,” you added for good measure.
“Shit, that’s right,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice barely audible of the sound of his cock pistoning in and out of you, a thin layer of sweat starting to collect on his skin from exertion. “Remember how you used to beg me for audio of me getting myself off?” he asked suddenly.
You did remember. You had told him early on in your sex life that you loved it when your partners moaned so Hyunjin would send you audio of him moaning as he touched himself. You saved almost all of them but deleted them after the break up.
“Used to love listening to me, didn’t you?”
You nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Hyunjin let out a moan, slowing his hips to a roll again, making you feel almost every inch of his cock. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight, baby,” he said as his head dropped into the crook of your neck, punctuating his next sentence with thrusts. 
“So,” thrust. “Fucking,” thrust. “Tight,” thrust.
Your walls clenched around him, making him slow in an attempt to prolong his own orgasm. He wanted to indulge in you a little longer because he knew at some point this would end and you would eventually go your own ways but he wasn’t ready for that just yet. He needed to make this last as long as he could.
“Hyunnie,” you whined, hips moving to meet his, desperate for more friction. Hyunjin lifted his head, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek as he took your lips in a passionate kiss. “Faster, please,” you begged against his lips. Hyunjin couldn’t resist when you begged him, your voice breathless as he filled you with his cock over and over.
But he needed to. “Shhh,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut as he rolled his hips again. “Just enjoy it,” he added, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, chuckling when you chased him for more.
“I promise I’ll fuck you real good, sweetheart,” he continued. “Just let me enjoy this.”
You fell silent, looking up at his face, eyes shut as he focused. “Hyun,” you whined, trying to get him to look at you. “Please baby,” you cooed. You knew he normally couldn’t resist the plea in the past, not when you called him baby. His lips twitched as he fought off a smile.
“Not going to work, angel,” he replied softly, slowing his hips entirely and stilling inside you. You whined in protest, trying to move your hips but strong hands held you in place. “If you don’t stop that, I won’t let you cum at all,” Hyunjin warned. Your brows rose as you contemplated fighting him.
Finally, you huffed and admitted defeat. “Fine.”
Hyunjin leaned in, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Good girl,” he murmured, not missing the way you clenched around him. “Such a good girl for me,” he continued, taking full advantage of your weakness. “Doing so good and taking me so well.”
You whined again. “Hyunjin!” you whimpered. He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours again, one hand finding one of yours and lacing his fingers with yours. He pinned your hand against the pillows, lifting his hips and uttered a single warning in your ear.
“Don’t scream,” he whispered.
You didn’t have the chance to ask what he was talking about when the first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs. He’d held back earlier and you knew he did but now he wasn’t going to. Your moans turned into cries, rising in volume and pitch. Hyunjin hissed, moving his free hand to cover your mouth as he pounded into you.
“I told you not to scream,” he muttered as he muffled your screams, his hips slamming against yours. “Fuck,” Hyunjin groaned. “M’gonna cum. You close, baby?” You nodded, moaning loudly against his hand. “That’s it, baby,” Hyunjin said breathlessly. “Let go and cum for me.”
Your walls contracted around his cock, your toes curling as stars exploded in your vision, a searing white hot feeling spread throughout your body from your fingertips to your toes. At the same moment, you felt Hyunjin’s cock twitch inside you, signifying his own orgasm. His teeth sank into your shoulder as he came with a groan, spilling his hot load into you as his hips continued to move, fucking it further into you.
“Oh shit,” he gasped as he fucked the last of his release into you before his hips finally stilled and he let out a heavy sigh. You pushed his hand off your mouth, breaths coming out in pants as you tried to come down from your high. You felt Hyunjin pull out of you carefully, his seed starting to spill out onto the sheets.
“Ah, shit,” he cursed, rolling out of bed and hurrying to pull his pants back on. He disappeared and returned a moment later with a towel and started to wipe your thighs and clean the cum off the bed sheets. “I think I was quick enough,” he murmured.
Once he was certain he’d gotten it all, he helped you back into your panties and shorts, pulling the blankets back over the two of you as you settled against the mattress, him beside you. “Y/N?” you heard him ask softly and opened your eyes, rolling back to look at him. “Hmm?” you replied.
Hyunjin turned his head to look at you. “Can I hold you?”
Your heart skipped a beat and you nodded, turning back over as Hyunjin scooted into position behind you, one arm snaking under your head beneath the pillow and the other going around your waist. You felt his chest press against your back and felt a warmth envelop you.
The two of you were silent for a moment before Hyunjin spoke. “I miss you,” he muttered into your hair, almost too quiet for you to hear but you did hear it. “Hyunjin,” you started but he tightened his arm around your waist. “Please, let me finish,” he begged. You fell silent and nodded.
“I miss you so much, Y/N. Ever since that last day in the apartment. The day I came to get my stuff. I had the opportunity to tell you how much I loved you. And I messed up,” he fell silent and you waited, hearing him swallow the lump in his throat.
“I messed up so bad, baby. I know that. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve done. I loved you so much that not being with you nearly killed me. I stopped leaving my apartment, I stopped going to work, I stopped eating. The only thing that numbed the pain was drinking and it only worked for so long.”
Your breath caught as you listened to Hyunjin. “Please believe when I say that I’m not blaming you. Everything that happened to me was my own fault. I guess I just didn’t want to live without you. When I lost my job and then my apartment and was back on my friend’s couch, it finally hit me that I couldn’t wallow in my misery. I had to go on. You had told me to live a good life and I wasn’t doing that. So I sought help,” he continued.
“I got clean, found a better job, moved into my own place, and started living that life you told me to live. Because you told me to live a good life, I got to meet you again.” You blinked away tears as Hyunjin spoke, not wanting to give into the emotions you’d been trying to suppress.
“The universe brought us together again and I feel like it was for a reason,” he continued to speak softly. “I believe in second chances. I know you do, too. I want us to try again. We’re not the same people we were eight years ago,” he hesitated and you took this as a moment for you to speak.
“I don’t know what to say, Hyunjin,” you whispered. “This is a lot of information to throw at me at once.”
Hyunjin nodded, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “I know,” he murmured. “But I loved you, Y/N. I still love you. I regret everyday I didn’t spend reminding you of that.” You took a deep breath and turned over to look up at him. “Can we talk about this another time?” you asked, blinking away the burning in the corners of your eyes. Hyunjin moved his hand to cup your cheek and nodded.
“Of course,” he replied. “Whatever you want.” Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. He pulled back and you turned back to face forward as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you snug against him.
You closed your eyes and sighed, hoping sleep would come sooner rather than later.
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The next morning Hyunjin awoke to find light filtering into the bedroom. He groggily opened his eyes and looked around the room. Your side of the bed was empty and he sat up, checking the time on his watch. He dressed in silence. He headed down the stairs, looking for any sign of life.
Upon entering the kitchen he found Edith sitting at the table with a mug of coffee. She looked up and smiled as Hyunjin looked around. “There’s breakfast in the microwave for you,” she said, getting up and walking over to open the door on the appliance, pulling out a plate and guiding him to sit at the table.
Hyunjin’s heart started to pound as he looked around but saw no sight of you anywhere. “Where’s Y/N?” he asked, looking up at Edith who patted him on the back, gesturing for him to eat. “She caught a cab early this morning,” Edith said softly. “Said she had important business to attend to.”
Hyunjin’s stomach sank. ‘You left? After last night? After everything? You just…left?’ He looked down at the plate, the corners of his eyes burning, Blinking the urge to cry away he composed himself and looked up. “Where’s Lawrence?” he asked suddenly. “Oh, he went to dig your car out of the snow! A neighbor came to help him pull the car out of the ditch but they needed to dig it out first.”
Hyunjin nodded wordlessly and ate in silence while Edith read something on her tablet.
Once he was finished, Edith took his plate and started rinsing it off. As she was putting it in the dishwasher, the front door opened and moments later, Lawrence appeared, dressed in a thick winter coat, coveralls, and boots.
He had a black wool hat jammed onto his head and smiled at Hyunjin as he pulled his mask down.
“Good news!” he said excitedly. Hyunjin perked up immediately, the irrational side of his brain hoping you had returned. Instead he was greeted with news that his car was now dug out and waiting in the driveway for him. Hyunjin forced a smile, thanking Lawrence.
“And they’ve been by to clear the roads,” Edith added, turning to Hyunjin with a smile. Hyunjin thanked them both and headed up to gather his things. As he moved around the room, he noticed the towel he’d used the night prior to clean up the mess you’d both made in the bed.
Hyunjin grimaced and decided to pull the sheets and tuck them up in a wad to carry down to put in the wash himself so he didn’t have to explain to Edith what it was staining her nice floral sheets. Once he was certain he had all his things, Hyunjin headed downstairs, dropping his bag by the front door before walking into the living room where Lawrence was warming up by the fire and Edith working on some form of needle work, possibly crochet, Hyunjin wasn’t sure.
She looked up as he walked over. “I wanted to get these in the laundry for you,” Hyunjin explained. “Oh that’s okay, dear,” she said as she set her work aside and got up. “I can do it,” she added, reaching for the bundle. Hyunjin internally cringed and pulled back slightly. “It’s okay. I’ve already got it in my hands. Just point me in the right direction,” he replied.
Edith gave him a knowing smile and pointed to the laundry room off the kitchen. Hyunjin thanked her and moved to open the door, opening the washing machine and dumping the sheets and blankets and towel into the drum. He added some soap and fabric softener before setting the timer and starting the machine.
Back in the living room, he found Edith back in her spot and Lawrence now sitting in his armchair with a newspaper. Hyunjin cleared his throat, catching both their attention and they looked up at him.
“Well,” he started awkwardly. “I think I’ll head out,” he continued. “We’ll walk you out,” Lawrence said, setting his newspaper aside and getting to his feet as Edith set her project aside and got up as well. Hyunjin walked towards the door with the couple following. He pulled on his coat, wrapping his scarf around his neck before tugging his beanie on.
“Walk him to his car,” Edith whispered, lightly hitting her husband’s chest. He moved to get his coat but Hyunjin stopped him. “Really, it’s okay,” Hyunjin reassured them. “You’ve done so much for Y/N and I.” Hyunjin pulled on his shoes and grabbed his bag.
“You’ve gone above and beyond what anyone else would do,” he continued. “Even though Y/N isn’t here to thank you, I’m thanking you for her.”
Edith smiled at him. “She already thanked us,” she explained. “Oh, she left a note!” she added when she noticed the confused expression on Hyunjin’s face and moved into the kitchen before returning with a paper note and handing it to Hyunjin. He read the writing on the sheet which he recognized as yours.
‘So she left a note,’ he told himself, forcing a smile as he handed it back. “That was nice of her,” he said shortly. Edith smiled, producing an envelope. “She also left this and asked me to give it to you,” she added, holding out the envelope. Hyunjin took it curiously and thanked her.
“Drive carefully!” Edith said as Hyunjin opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, his bag slung over his shoulder. “And no more driving into ditches,” Lawrence joked. Hyunjin laughed and nodded. “I’ll do my best. Thank you so much for everything,” Hyunjin said again and with a wave, he carefully made his way down the steps and started the trek back towards the road.
He was halfway down the driveway when his black sedan came into view and he smiled, picking up the pace as he hurried to his car. He unlocked the door and after tugging a couple times, managed to break the ice and pull the door open. He got in, kicking the snow off his shoes and dumping his bag onto the front seat. He shut the door and looked around.
Everything seemed in order. He said a little prayer before turning the engine over and the car surprisingly roared to life, Hyunjin cheering with an excited laugh. He immediately turned the dials and got the defroster and heater working. He pulled his hat off and threw it into the passenger seat. As he shed more layers, he caught sight of the envelope and stared at it for a few moments.
What could you have possibly needed to say that you could haven’t waited to tell him?
Hyunjin fought with himself on whether or not to read it, going back and forth until he finally grabbed the letter with a groan and opened it. At least he’d have something to do while he waited for his car to warm up. He pulled the letter out and unfolded it, eyes scanning the sheet before him.
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Hyunjin, I’m sorry for leaving like this. I know it’s wrong and makes it seem like I’m running from my problems and maybe I am but I can’t give you an answer. I know it’s not what you want to hear but I’m just not sure.  I’m not sure of anything anymore. I thought I was okay and that I was over you but seeing you at the party and then getting stranded and having to share a bed and then what happened last night. It feels like things happened so fast and I didn’t have time to catch up. I couldn’t process it all in a few hours.  I need more time.  I need to think about everything you said and what’s going on in my own mind. There’s a lot for both of us to think about although you made it pretty clear where your mind is last night. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still feel something for you because I do. I do feel something for you and it scares me. I didn’t want to make a decision in the heat of the moment and come to regret it so instead I’m going to take some time to think.  I also want to thank you. For offering to give me a ride home, even if we did get stranded. It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. And thank you for opening up to me and being honest with me. I’ve seen a much different side of you. One that reminds me of the man you were when we first met. I don’t want to use up all of Edith’s letter paper so I’ll end with this: Don’t hesitate to reach out and when I’m ready, I’ll contact you. xxx-xxx-xxxx
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Hyunjin’s vision blurred and he hastily wiped the tears from his eyes, a small smile gracing his lips.
For the first time since the car slid off the road the other night, he felt something he hadn’t felt in years.
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He felt hopeful.
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ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.
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undertheorangetree · 6 months
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Snowed In
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Summary- A snow storm leads to an opportunity.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Modern Aemond. Cat Vhagar is modern AU canon. Friends to lovers vibe. Thigh riding. Blowjob. Cunnilingus. P in V sex. Safe sex practices for once. Probably ooc Aemond cuz he's experiencing joy.
Author's Note- Yes all of my fics take place in the winter what about it?? That's my business that I am now involving you in link to full fic below :)
dividers by me
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"They've just closed campus."
Her head pops up from behind her laptop, staring at Aemond in wide eyed disbelief. Already, there is a sympathetic wince on his face, the kind that is only ever present when he knows she is about to get upset, but even then she refuses to believe him.
"Closed? What do you mean closed?"
"It says they had to on account of the weather."
"No, they haven't. Let me see."
He spins his laptop screen to face her, forcing her to push her own down in order to see properly. His email has been left open on the page and her eyes rove over the message she had so desperately hoped he had made up. There before her in big bold letters are the words URGENT- CAMPUS CLOSED followed by a brief explanation blaming a snow storm and apologizing for any inconveniences the decision may have caused.
She lets out a groan, leaning back in the library's old chair, a pleading look on her face as if Aemond is the one responsible for making such decisions. He may as well be, with his family being such heavy contributors to Oldtown University's alumni fund, his last name plastered across the front of one of the many building on campus. She has half the mind to ask him to go speak to whichever family member is on the chair committee to convince them to reverse the decision and allow them to go back to finishing their final papers, though somehow she doubts that would be likely.
"The storm wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow. It can't already be that bad, can it?"
He reaches over toward the blinds they have long since closed, both of them having agreed that the glare from the sun was too distracting hours ago, only to be met with the sight of a now white campus, the snow blanketing near everything in sight. It's evident now why they would have shut down campus - it must have been snowing for hours- but she still feels something close to dread work its way up her spine.
She sucks in a heavy breath, turning to face Aemond once more. "Do you think they would have shut down the buses too?"
She knows it's a lost cause even as she asks it. The university is located away from the port, standing alone at the top of one of the mountains. It's a steep drive even in idle conditions and she knows that with the snow on the roads, the chances of her being able to commute back to her apartment are slim to none.
Just as she suspects, he simply looks at her, face contorted in a way that clearly implies that she already knows the answer. She bites out a curse, half slamming her laptop down before dropping her face into her hands.
The last thing she wants to do is spend the night on campus. She doubts that they were the only two caught unaware and trying to find a place to camp out for the night is going to be hell. Not for him, of course. Aemond's family connections came with seemingly endless perks and he had been set up with a beautiful flat on campus, less than a five minute walk from the library. He has lived there ever since she has known him and she had been there more times than she could count. Since first befriending him during orientation week in their first year, she had spent countless nights eating take out and studying for finals there. With their joint history major, they had taken nearly every class together, making last night studying near second nature at this point, so close to finishing their degrees.
There's a faint burn of envy in her gut at the thought of his flat- warm, isolated, cozy- but it's quickly snuffed out by her nervousness, fretting over where exactly she is meant to camp out tonight. She doubts she will actually sleep, not while she’s alone on campus, but she still wants to be at least somewhat comfortable. A padded chair would be ideal, though she knows they will be difficult to come by if she doesn’t act quickly.
Shoving her laptop back into her bag, she begins collecting the handful of papers she had sprawled out across the tabletop. "I guess I should go and try to find somewhere to sleep. It's going to be a blood bath trying to find something with decent cushioning."
He scoffs. "You're not going to be fighting any blood baths. Just spend the night at mine."
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campingsilence · 1 year
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utterlyazriel · 3 months
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whom the shadows sing for —(and the thief's echoing hymn)
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a/n: eek not a request but an idea that wouldn't leave me alone! thus... we embark on a mulan-esque story that i hope u will enjoy <3 big thank you's to @strangerstilinski who listened and helped immensely as i whittled a hunky idea down to a plot
word count: 2.9k
synopsis: Someone in the Illryians Mountains has been making a name for themselves— a bastard like Azriel and his brothers, ruffling the feathers of a war camp's Lords. But they seem to have no loyalty to the fighting legion, or much to anyone for that matter. fem!reader
— CHAPTER ONE :: STRANGERS
Frost was everywhere.
Despite all the eerie memories that tainted them, the Illyrian Mountains were hauntingly beautiful, even Azriel could admit that.
Pine trees stretched up tall, their timber trunks hidden beneath the snow-leaden branches. It was a sea of swirling frost. Snowflakes eddied down from the frozen sky, a soft blanket of white draped across the landscape.
He was sure that some, maybe the likes of Feyre and her artist's eye, could see that beauty easier than he could.
Beautiful, Azriel thought bitterly, but fucking freezing.
Normally, dealing with the likes of the war camps that riddled these mountains was left to Cassian. He had that raucous, fiery way about him that was far better suited to it. Enough pride to challenge the warriors and more than enough eager attitude to back his taunts if need be.
But Cassian was currently very much occupied— and highly unsuited to crack the whip against some rowdy Illyrians in his current state.
Azriel couldn't help the smile at the thought of when he'd last seen his brother.
Freshly mated Cassian looked as though he had tiny hearts circling around his head at all times. He resembled a puppy following his nose, always that wicked grin on his face as he trailed after Nesta. His adoration was impossible to miss.
Cassian had more than earned the time off. He deserved to celebrate properly, to have a couple weeks with no badgering worries, with no bickering Illyrian warriors to deal with (beyond his usual two).
So, as a mating gift to his brother —and partially to escape a house filled with intolerably mated couples— Azriel had taken over his duty temporarily. To oversee the war camps he detested so much.
Today, he was to investigate the rumoured stirrings amongst the camps and assess the level of threat it posed. More often than not, these sorts of stirrings were simply whispers of rebellion but nothing more.
There was an easy fix; a visit from one of the most powerful Illyrian warriors in history, or even from Rhys himself. It always made the Illyrians a little nervous and those whispers of a coup would sweep away with the wind in a matter of time.
This time, however, the network of spies that operated under Azriel had not come back spinning such rumours.
Instead, there was talk of Lords with ruffled feathers. Lords with bruised egos due to a single bastard warrior, rising in the ranks and not playing by the rules.
The familiarity of the situation was almost too ironic, Azriel thought. He had half a mind to tell Rhys what he had learned and leave them to it. Cauldron knew these brutal camps needed a bastard to challenge their ways from time to time.
But still, there was always the potential for such a warrior to pose a threat in the future. Azriel could not leave a possible danger to brew. No stone left unturned.
The snow beneath his boots was beginning to melt.
He had been standing in the cold and peering up at the war camp ahead, barely seen through the heavy snow falling, for too long now. Snow was gathering on his wings, tendrils of ice shooting through their sensitive membrane. Find the bastard.
Shaking off the snow, he began to walk.
Gods forsaken males and their egos.
The bone in your forearm ached, having taken the brunt of your initial fall in the mud. It's covered in it too, the muck of the ground that always seemed to linger. Always a layer of dirt beneath your fingernails. Truly, one of the many incredible appeals of the Illyrian mountains was never actually being clean.
You'd probably hate it more— if it didn't do such a good job of masking unwanted scents.
But right now with a jagged cut that tears up your left arm, all the way to the elbow, you're cursing the mud. It's likely festering with uncountable grim diseases. You'll have to flush the wound to properly clean it before it begins to heal.
That means water. That means energy that you don't particularly feel like summoning to fetch it. You cast your glance to the window.
Outside, the Mother's Kiss howls loudly.
The southerly chilled wind current that Illyrians don such a precious name is quite fitting for their backward ways — to expect a kiss from your mother to have such a sting on the face.
Tonight, the current seems particularly fierce. The windows of your shelter rattle in warning. A storm had blown through camp rather unexpectedly and you'd caught the worst of it, tangled up in a snarling fest against Brudam.
Brudam, who is responsible for the current state of your arm. Your lip curls at the mere thought of the arrogant male. Your wings bunch up tightly and you huff quietly to nobody.
He'd caught wind of the broth you had made that had filled the stomach of three ravenous bastards in the camp. It had been just enough to keep them on their feet. Tonight, you know that one hot meal might very well be the difference that helps them survive the night.
But Illyrians are a tough breed— and they don't take kindly to people giving handouts, as Brudam had put it.
You preferred the term leveling the playing field.
As if Brudam and his Lord father had ever experienced to ache of starvation. Ever had to sleep in the snow with nothing but their own wings for warmth against a blizzard.
Another deep pain twinges in your arm and you hiss, drawn out of your thoughts. If you have to pick your wins, you can at least admit you're glad he had only found out about the broth— and had seemed none the wiser to the healing tonics you were slipping the freshly-clipped girls.
It ached to see them and their quivering wings. The way the muscles in their backs buckled when they tried to spread their wings, a cut too deep into the wrong nerve. It ached to see it, yes, but beneath that pain was an ocean of bitter and furious fire.
But your righteous anger would not help these girls.
You were not the most proficient healer and the tonics you were attempting... it was hard to say if they would make any difference in saving any females' wings.
You were gathering knowledge as best you could though, scraping together herbs that scarcely grew in the frozen climate. It was a poor imitation of something that might work.
Whether it would be enough... that was up to the Mother. But you had to try.
You assess the wound on your arm once more, wondering about the reserve of water you had in your small hut— whether you could both clean your wound and have enough to hydrate.
Another glance out at the wintry snowscape outside. You grimaced. If you didn't, you would have to bear the blistering chill of the Mother's Kiss to get more.
Weariness weighs on your bones. You hadn't been prepared for the fight, hence your almost embarrassing injury, and it drained you more than you expected.
You stand with a sigh and drag your feet toward the tiny cauldron filled with melted snow collected earlier in the day. It hangs over the fireplace, the embers within long since snuffed out. Your motion stirs them up.
For a moment, you stare into the fireplace. The water in the cauldron shimmers. The shelter creaks around you, bending in the wind.
It's covered in soot, marred by the flames that usually lick it from beneath it. The lip of it, however, is still clean enough to see your own reflection. You peer into it.
And in that reflection, you find a tall figure with massive wings looming above their shoulders standing behind you.
Your heart spasms in shock and you have to swallow your gasp of surprise. Your eyes dart up, frantically hunting for a weapon. You grab the closest object you can, your hand closing around a kitchen fork. And before they get the chance, you twist and lunge, arm raised.
The floorboards groan as your boots slam into them, darting forward to attack. But the male dodges you easily, your strike passing through empty air.
You don't stop, turning and striking for him once again. The male sways back again easily to avoid your swing and you scowl.
Quickly feigning one way, you watch as his hands, weaponless, move to defend his gut — and you change direction, fast. Neck exposed, you snarl as you sink the fork deep into his shoulder.
The male hisses in pain.
You falter for a moment at the noise but it's a mistake. His hands move so fast you barely see them, gripping your wrist that holds the fork and twisting it down to the ground, immobilising you from using it.
You snarl again and tug against him fruitlessly. A swell of panic begins to rise within you as you tug again, again, again. His hold doesn't falter.
"Stop," The male commands you quietly.
This time when you tug, he opens his fingers and you fly back onto your ass, wings flaring out a moment too late to catch yourself.
You expect him to trudge forward, to beat an attack down on you now that you're less defended, but he doesn't move from his spot.
In fact, you realise as you stare at him, cheat heaving, he hasn't attacked you at all.
His weapons, which there are many of them, stay strapped to his side, glittering against the snow's reflected light. You spot the siphon on his hand, a churning sapphire colour — and clock the matching one on his other hand.
This was not just any Illyrian warrior in your home.
Faintly, your panic subsides as you realise that if this male meant to hurt you —to kill you— he very well could have done so by now.
You let your eyes trail up, taking in the face so hidden in shadow, and recognize that the darkness swirling around him is not ordinary shadow.
The revelation has you sitting up a bit straighter, the bindings around your chest pulling tight. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.
What do you say to one of the most powerful Illyrian warriors in history —one who served on Rhysand's inner circle, friend of the High Lord of the Night Court— when you've just stabbed him with a fork?
As if your thought had reminded him, the male —Azriel, you know his name to be— shifts and reaches for the utensil still sticking out of his shoulder. He yanks it out without a noise of complaint.
Then he says, "Considering your choice of weapon, it's no surprise Brudam cut up your arm."
You scowl at him but at a closer look, you can see that his expression isn't condescending. No, with his raised brows, he almost looks... impressed.
"I wasn't expecting visitors." You bite back defensively.
Azriel's eyes dance with amusement. He throws the fork onto your table with a clatter. "That's how you greet visitors?"
"Uninvited ones, yes."
His amusement fades, the planes of his face shadowed and yet still handsome. Like most Illyrians, there's this incomprehensible sense of elegance to him, an alluring pull tied to his very demeanor.
But looking at him now, even in the dimness of your shelter, you could see Azriel went beyond to type of beauty that usual Illyrians had. An unparalleled grace, an unmatched Adonis.
He is the most beautiful male you had ever seen—and you had just stabbed him with a fork.
"Sorry," You mutter eventually when he doesn't say anything.
You shift onto your knees to stand, your hand coming to cup beneath your elbow— the ache of the injury had begun to bleed back in now that you weren't focused on fighting off an intruder.
"You're forgiven." He says. You can see lightly, through the dimming light, the faint blood on his neck you've caused.
"You fight well," He comments, with the air of a compliment. Something like amusement is in his eyes when he says, "Even with your unusual choice of weapon."
You glare at him as you climb to your feet and all but collapse into a chair. You don't even have another to offer to him. Buried beneath your leathers, your chest aches in pain — a reminder that it's been bound for far too long. You ignore it and tilt your chin towards him.
"Why are you here?"
You're actually sure that even if you offered Azriel a chair he wouldn't take it, given how stiffly he stands before you. He takes a moment to answer, his gaze flitting around the small room you both stand in. Calculating, categorizing.
"There were rumours of a warrior turning up trouble here."
He fixes his hazel-eyed gaze on you. You steel yourself beneath it. "A couple days in your camp and it became clear who the outlier was."
A couple days? For some reason, you can't believe that he's been surveying this place without detection from anyone. Another glance at his shadows, the dark masses that hang around his shoulders, and you can believe it a little more.
Besides, it's hardly as though the Lords would deign to tell a bastard like you anything important.
You clench your jaw but don't say anything.
"Brudam mentioned you feeding some warriors." Azriel continues, his tone unreadable. Though something, you couldn't tell what, glittered in his eyes. "Not very in the spirit of Illyrians."
You scowl at him again. Even if he had once faced these conditions before, you wondered if his time away, spent Cauldron knows where, had softened his memory.
"It's not against any law."
"No, it isn't," Azriel says. His eyes narrow. "But making healing tonics without a Healer's jurisdiction and selling them to young females is."
Your heart stops for just a moment. How could he know that? The last batch you had dropped off had been over a month ago.
Without thinking you snarl back, "I'm not selling them, you prick."
Something blooms on Azriel's face, surprise and a hint of smugness.
Your mouth snaps shut as you realise what you've done. You curse yourself. Slumping back in your chair, your wings sag with you and you let them droop onto the floor, uncaring. He could very well be here to kill you, given the knowledge of what you had just admitted.
For a long moment, there's just silence.
You stare at the floor and wonder which version of the High Lord is true; the Court of Nightmares whose power ripples through these camps and keeps them in line. Or the rumours of a softer side, a dreamer.
You wonder, more importantly, which of those this male before you is friends with.
Something in the floor creaks when Azriel finally moves. He crosses the room swiftly to the fireplace and gathers two logs from the stack of firewood beside it, tossing them onto the pile of ash.
You watch, perturbed, as he hunches over the fireplace for a quiet minute— and when he pulls back, a small flame is burning on the wood. It dances on the log, entrancing and amber-coloured.
Heat begins to fill the room. You pick your wings up and stretch them towards it, grateful for how they begin to warm. You hadn't quite realised the extent of your chill until right now.
It's such a kindness that hasn't been shown to you in many years. Surprise and silent gratitude bloom in your chest.
Azriel turns back to face you. You school your surprise away.
"What's your name?" He asks, his voice gruff.
It's been a while since anyone asked that either. Bastard. Mongrel. Imposter. There are a thousand other words that have become your name whilst growing up here.
You can't tell him your name. In the same way you can't tell anyone here your real name without revealing too much about yourself.
So you shorten it and tell him that instead.
Azriel nods. Doesn't repeat it, doesn't blink at your hesitance. Instead, he just says, "Like I said, you fight well. You could be better though."
You frown at the backhanded compliment, something in you sneering at the jab at your fighting skills. Worse, you know he's right.
If you had weapons suited to your size, exercises that focused on your agility more than your brute strength... There's a good reason you have to work twice as hard as every other warrior in camp.
Azriel looks at your arm, no longer bleeding and beginning to stitch itself up. Shit, you really need to clean that first.
"Clean that and get a good night's rest." He orders, not meanly. Then he crosses the space of your shelter in a few paces of his long legs, heading for the door.
"You—" The question dares to come out of you. "You're not going to turn me in?"
Azriel pauses, one hand, one scarred hand you can now see with the fire going, on the door. So, the rumours of that were true.
"No," He says lowly. He sees you staring, and as if on command, the shadows swirling around his shoulders dart down to cover his hands. They and the doorknob in his hand disappear from sight completely.
You evade your eyes back up to his hauntingly beautiful face. His expression is stony, unreadable. He stares at you for a long moment, the dancing fire reflected in his hazel eyes.
"I'm going to train you."
[next part]
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yandere-writer-momo · 5 months
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Some Pickle for my baby, @unstuckmusturd . Merry Christmas!! 🎄
TW: Dark content, monster fucking, gore, yandere, size difference, and horror elements
Yandere Baki Shorts: The Abominable Snowman
Yandere Yeti Pickle x Explorer Afab Reader
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“Are you sure you know where you’re taking us? It seems you’re deliberately leading us further and further away from civilization.” (Your name) ignored the whines of the group of men that trudged behind her in the snow. They dragged their feet as they huffed. The group hadn’t ceased their complaints since they had left the village but (your name) had already been paid the hefty sum to lead them up the mountain to find a rare herb.
“I’m sure.” (Your name) sighed as she lead them through the forest in the mountain. She’s traveled this mountain dozens of times. She knew it like the back of her hand. It was just a shame most men didn’t think she was capable because of her gender… the men continued to grumble under their breath as they followed behind her towards the snowy clearing. The whole group was unaware they they’re were being watched
It was when the wind began to pick up that (your name) urged the researchers to move faster. A blizzard was coming… they failed to keep up with her fast steps as the snowfall gradually braced denser… and that was when a loud roar echoed throughout the clearing that sent a chill down her spine. Was that a polar bear? No… whatever was charging towards them was much bigger than a bear. (Your name) quickly left the researchers behind as she scrambled to safety. She wasn’t going to let these men slim down her chances of survival since she’s already gotten exactly what she’s wanted.
The thick, white blankets of snow blinded her from the carnage behind her. The only thing she could hear were the loud, blood curdling screams of the researchers. And what felt like an eternity later, silence filled the blistering, cold air. It was terrifying to know that she were now alone, but she had to keep going. She didn’t want to die here. Not like this… not being mauled to death.
Once (your name) was back into the forest, she began to set up camp. She needed to build a shelter to retire for the night. It was far too dangerous to continue traveling, especially with a polar bear on the loose.
(Your name) grunted as she used a shovel from her pack to dig a small hole into the snow to settle into for now. She would use their survival skills to outlast the blizzard and hopefully she didn’t run into any polar bears… (your name) made the perfect hole with a tunnel that didn’t allow the wind to blow into her little snow cave. The young woman set up her sleeping bag and retired for the night. Her eyes that were heavy with sleep drifted shut. She prayed to whatever god was out there that she survived the night… little did she know of the large figure who stood above her hideout. A low growl escaped their lips as they made their way over to the slumbering (your name), their clawed hand brushed a few of her stray hairs out of her cold face. His Pretty mate… he’s been watching her for so long now and she was finally in his grasp. Pickle was so happy!
(Your name) awoke the next morning feeling warm…. Warm?! (Your name) went to jump up in shock but fluffy, muscular arms held her down. What on earth- (your name) gasped when her eyes clashed with brilliant gold eyes. A yeti?!
Pickle sat up and cooed at her, his clawed fingers poked at her cheeks as he rose to sit up on his haunches. He was massive… he was bigger than any creature she’s ever seen and he was covered in white and black hair. Never did she think a creature of myth would be real…
(Your name) went to step back but Pickle stopped her. He quickly pulled her back into his body, the yeti nuzzled his face into her shoulder and loudly purred. (Your name) loudly squealed when she felt his wet tongue lapped at her neck. His breath reeked of rotten meat. “Stop it!”
Pickle whined when she pushed his head away, he had merely wanted to love on his mate… why did she reject him? He had shown that he was the strongest out of all the other males. He was worthy of her. Pickle was strong.
Pickle set her down in a pile of pelts as he began to try to tug at her clothes. He wanted something specific from her… Pickle wanted young and she was the perfect one to bare them for him. He’s searched this mountain for a female for months and she’s been the only one he’s seen. Pickle would stake his claim
(Your name) began to fight back. Her small hands beat against each his chest which amused the large creature. She wanted to play? How cute! But she was so skinny… she’d break if he tried to breed her now!
Pickle soon began to poke and tease her, his sexual appetite satiated for now. He could try again later, there was plenty of time before spring!
(Your name) found herself trapped with Pickle in his cave and it was a terrifying experience. The yeti would constantly bring her back meat with utmost urgency, the large monster whining if she didn’t like what he brought. Didn’t she understand she needed to eat so they could breed? She needed to gain weight! Maybe she’d like something else?
Bathing was a bit difficult for her at first but she taught Pickle how to collect snow in her small pot from her pack. Pickle was amazed the first time he saw fire. He even reached out to touch it out of curiosity but quickly howled in pain when he burnt himself. The yeti cried as (your name) kissed his clawed fingers with utmost care. Pickle began to love to be babied
Pickle loved to see her bare. Her curves were delicious to his starving eyes… he couldn’t wait for the spring time to claim his prize.
Pickle was thrilled when (your name) would eat the berries and fish he brought back. The yeti would dance in happiness every time she ate the succulent fruits and nuts he had scavenged for. It swelled his heart up with pride to see her happy. See? Pickle was a great mate! He was perfect!
As weeks went on, (your name) began to make her own clothes out of the many pelts pickle brought her for warmth. The nest in the center of the cave was now twice the size it was from when she first was brought here.
(Your name) had soon grown used to Pickle’s eccentric behavior and to his constant snuggles. Hell, she’s even grown used to his pungent scent… but lately there’s been a more headier scent all over the cave. One that caused a stirring between her legs. Were they some sort of pheromones?
Pickle smirked when he noticed (your name) shift, the yeti placed his large palms on her legs and slowly pulled her skirts up. There it was… her ovulation cycle has begun.
(Your name) had no time to shift from his grasp before his mouth descends on her. Her fingers tangle into the dark mop atop his head. A loud squeal escaping her lips as he greedily lapped at her folds. His freakishly long tongue dove past the tight ring of muscles to his prize.
It’s when (your name) is tethering on the edge of ecstasy that he pulls his mouth away and teases her hole with something much larger than his tongue. And before she can get a grasp on what is going on, he sheathed himself into her. Pickle groans at how she tightens from the intrusion
Her cries only fuel him to pound into her. To breed. She can do nothing but cry as the large bulge protrudes in her stomach. He was too big. He was too much. But it didn’t take long for the pain from his rough fucking to start to melt into something pleasurable
(Your name) felt the coil steadily build in her once more. This time, her hips began to try to meet his rough thrusts and she was rewarded with his tongue in her open mouth. She practically choked on the large muscle that had hints of her taste on it
She felt herself explode on this monster who was somehow sucked even deeper into her from the force of her orgasm. A scream escaped her throat when she felt burning ropes of his cum fill her… there was not a doubt in her mind that this monster had successfully stuffed her with his young. Her stomach a bit bloated from the sheer amount of semen in her
Pickle cooed as he pulled out with a wet pop, his fingers scooped up the viscous cum that leaked from her stretched hole in hope to save as much of it as he could.
. She knew she was ruined beyond repair, but it didn’t matter to her anymore. If she was going to be stuck on this mountain, she might as well enjoy herself
Pickle cooed as he curled his body into hers. The monster licked up her tears as he held her close to keep her warm. She was his mate… his perfect, beautiful mate
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tojiluv · 24 days
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Hello new follower here hope you’re having a great day/evening/night💜 could I request any inuyasha characters reaction to accidentally touching their s/o’s cold feet/hands while they’re sleeping at night ? You can ignore this if it makes you feel uncomfortable.
COLD NIGHT — inuyasha characters reaction ft. inuyasha, sesshomaru, koga [headcanon]
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context: amidst the camp set up for the night, you spread your blanket on the ground while your partner opts to lie beside you. despite the warmth emanating from the large fire, your body retains a chill, though it doesn't trouble you greatly. however, someone else appears more affected, expressing their discomfort unlike you.
warnings: fluff. slight ooc? lowercase intended. gn! reader
notes: ty for the request anon! if you can't tell, i prefer sesshomaru more lol. also why doesn't Inuyasha and koga have good alias names ugh
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INUYASHA ─ ❝ HALF—DOG ❞
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➜ inuyasha would sit up against the rough bark of a nearby tree, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready for any potential intruders. you settle down beside him, seeking warmth and solace in his presence. your hand reaches out to him, seeking comfort and reassurance that he's beside you.
➜ as your hand makes contact with his, his serene expression swiftly transforms into one of alarm, his eyes snapping open wide. he jerks his hand away from yours, swiftly moving it towards the fire to regain warmth.
➜ “the hell is wrong with your hands!? they’re colder than the damn snow right now!”
➜ you scoff at his words, turning away from him in response. inuyasha grumbled at your reaction before firmly gripping your shoulders and pulling you closer to him, snuggling you into his warm embrace.
➜ “since you wanna be stubborn and not get near the fire, i guess i’ll just stay next to you for the night.”
LORD SESSHOMARU ─ ❝ BEAST KING ❞
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➜ unlike inuyasha’s outburst, sesshomaru is more the silent-but-glaring type of partner in this situation. 
➜ when your hand accidentally brushes against his face while adjusting a few strands of his hair, his golden eyes widen briefly at the contact before narrowing into a silent, intense glare.
➜ you pull your hand back quickly, shooting him an apologetic smile as he continues to glare, the sensation of your cold hands disrupting his slumber. it was rare for sesshomaru to join you and the group, let alone to sleep as well, but now, you've ruined it with your never-ending coldness.
➜ you turn around on the blanket, keeping your hands to yourself as you quietly sigh, feeling regretful for ruining the moment.
➜ after a few seconds, you feel something heavy and warm drape across your freezing body. it takes a moment to realize it's sesshomaru's mokomoko, which he has placed on you, providing the extra warmth you need that the fire couldn’t.
➜ even though you knew sesshomaru wasn’t one to talk about his feelings, you appreciated how he expressed his love more through actions than words.
KOGA ─ ❝ WOLF CUB ❞
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➜ as the leader of the wolf-demon tribe, koga had numerous responsibilities to ensure the survival of his pack, with one of his main priorities being the protection of you, a human. despite being vastly different from your wolf-demon boyfriend, koga fell in love with you at first sight and would do anything to ensure your safety.
➜ as night fell, you settled around the campfire with the tribe, aiming to get some rest. however, the cool breeze that kept blowing made it difficult, causing your hands to grow numb from the biting cold.
➜ you shivered from the intense cold, despite being wrapped in a blanket. koga could feel your shaking body against his own, which startled him awake. quickly, he turned to face you with a scowl as he realized what was going on.
➜ “why the hell didn’t ya say anything? you’re freezing! here, take my hands.”
➜ you hesitated at first before settling your numbed hands against his warmed, rough ones. his touch sent a comforting warmth through your chilled fingers, and you graced him with a grateful smile for his kindness.
➜ koga would then move your sleeping bag closer to the fire and wrap his arms around your body, pulling you so close to his chest that you could hardly breathe, enveloping you in his warmth. he cared deeply for your comfort and always made sure you were satisfied.
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© 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐯 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
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violetsiren90 · 2 months
Text
Nothing But You | Bang Chan/Reader
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Pairing: wolf hybrid!Bang Chan x f!human!Reader
Genre: hybrid AU; non-idol AU, strangers to lovers; love in adversity; cozy one-shot; fluff and angst
Word Count: 1434
Summary: The world's not ready for your love, but that doesn't matter. None of it matters - nothing but him.
Part 2: Evergreen (though both can be read as stand-alone works)
Content Warnings: I'd give this a PG-13 for content, but ALL of my work is 18+ (minors, dni); cuddling; co-sleeping; bad weather (but safe indoors); shirtless Chris (Chan is called Christopher); descriptions of hybrid physical features (including some minimal body hair); depictions of prejudice towards, discrimination, and marginalization of hybrids; a character gets lost and is momentarily frightened; allusions to sexual intimacy; implied domestic violence (by an authority figure, not Chris); running away; mention of reproduction (pups); for some reason even though it is explicitly stated I feel the need to mention that Reader and Chris are both adults throughout
Author's Note: I'll tell you what I didn't have planned for this Sunday afternoon and that was a Bang Chan hybrid AU one-shot. But the image of cuddling up with Chan in the middle of a snowstorm took me hostage and now here we are. I've never written a hybrid AU before, so this was very fun! If you read this, I hope this Christopher brings you the comfort you deserve today. 💕
P.S In case no one has told you today, you're so loved and so, so worthy of love. 🧜💜
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The icy wind howls, whipping swirling flurries of snow past the windows of the little cabin. You stir, not opening your eyes, heavy with slumber as your other senses remind you of the homey trappings of your shelter. A fire crackles and pops, its warmth licking over your nose and cheeks. A soft, heavy blanket fashioned of rabbit pelts lays over your body, rustling quietly as you nuzzle into the man beneath you.
    His chest rises and falls with the even breath of a deep sleep. Your cheek rests against his bare skin and the silky patch of thick, dark hair between his firm pectorals. It isn't really hair - not like yours. It's fur. Soft, dark tufts of it decorate his body everywhere hair would grow on a man; a patch on his chest, under his arms, at the dip of his Adonis belt. It smells like him. Like musk and pine and lavender. Manly and primal, floral and gentle. Christopher.
    Hybrids were still treated like dirt in so many ways. They didn't require licenses to live without owners anymore, but still, they were pushed to the margins of the community by the intolerance of common practice. You yourself had been taught to fear them. Monsters, your grandfather had told you, who would turn on their own young in a moment of morbid instinct. Even so, you always found more pity in your heart than terror.
    And then, one day, you met him.
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You had been loading groceries into the bed of your grandparents' jalopy at the general store and dropped a bag of oats as you struggled to hoist it onto the tailgate. You hadn't even noticed he was beside you when he easily hefted the bag and the remaining two boxes of eggs onto the vehicle without a word. He shot you a little smile, but before you could thank him your eyes were arrested by a pair of sharp brown ears rising from his curly hair. He pulled on a cap and turned to go before you could collect your wits enough to speak.
    You had thought of nothing save his warm brown eyes and sweet smiling lips in the weeks that followed, taking any chance you could to steal away to the general store in hopes of seeing him again.
But your paths never crossed. Not until the following summer.
You had packed in to the camping grounds by the lake with a few other girls from your graduating class for a weekend getaway from the menfolk - not that you had any - and you'd joined them rather reluctantly and at the persistence of your grandmother, who insisted a little socialization would do you good.
    That first afternoon you quickly grew tired of the chatter. If the weekend was meant to be a reprieve from the men, you grumbled to yourself, then why were they the constant and sole topic of conversation? You gathered up your sketching supplies and walked down the trail a ways, finding that the more distance you put between yourself and the shrieks of laughter and gossip behind you, the better you felt. Soon, you couldn't hear them at all. You settled onto a rock at the edge of a small glen and took your pencil in hand.
    Suddenly, some hours later, it dawned on you that your eyes were straining somewhat on the page, and you looked about, startled at the waning light reflecting the late hour. Gathering your things, you hurried back to down the path, only to realize with a sickness in your gut that you were well and truly lost, and that the daylight was nearly spent.
    He had found you then, sniffling rather pathetically beside a tree. You'd been alarmed by the sudden sound of his voice, having not heard his furtive approaching steps, but when you raised your frightened eyes to his face the fear had quickly given way to wonder. You'd given up hope of seeing him again, and now here he was, once more in your hour of need.
It was too dark now to find the trail back to the campsite, so you helped divide the load of bracken he had tucked under his arm between you as he led the way back to his cabin, not far into the thick. As you walked you noticed his tail, gray and brown and full behind him. Had he hidden it, that day at the store, you wondered? Did he always when he was around people like you? You remembered how surprised you had been at the site of his pretty ears upon your first meeting and you felt ashamed. You tried to find every possible way to assure him, as you walked and talked, that he didn't frighten you. You hoped he understood.
    Before long, you arrived at a little clearing with a log cabin at its heart. Smoke rose invitingly from the chimney, and you found it was as small and homey and warm within as it seemed from the cold darkness of the wood. The stranger gave you bread and stew and hot milk, and you ate with him and told him of yourself and he shared with you in return.
He was a wolf hybrid. The sole survivor of his pack, he had traveled hundreds of miles to settle into the mountains of your home. He made a living hunting, trapping, and gathering the wares of the wild to sell in town, as did a handful of other hybrids living in the mountains - a group of traders known collectively as The Strays. He told you that his name was Christopher, but that most simply called him The Wolf. When you repeated his given name softly and asked if you could call him by it he smiled that smile again, but broader and brighter and with his eyes pressed into little moons and crow's feet in their corners. His canines glinted in the light of the fire and one beautiful dimple pressed into his left cheek.
    You were in love.
    You asked him, a little shyly before parting the following day, if you could be friends. He smiled sadly and brushed rough fingers over your cheek before telling you that you were already his friend, but that you should keep yourself safe by staying away. People were suspicious of hybrids, and if he were seen with a human woman, it could be dangerous for you both.
     At the edge of the campsite, when he turned to go, you grabbed his arm. You told him that every Saturday morning you helped wait tables at Maple's Diner, and that if he came, breakfast would be on the house. You wanted to thank him, you insisted. In truth, you just wanted to give him a chance to find you, should he wish to. Oh, you desperately hoped that he wished to.
    And he did. He showed up a few weeks later, ears tucked under a hat and shoulders looking broad in a worn flannel shirt. You gave him coffee and bacon and a pile of pancakes and sat with him when your shift was through. It became a ritual, Saturday mornings at the diner. And then you started meeting for lunch. Then dinner. Then for long walks and trips to the movies. Then he started to take you out for drives in his truck - for picnics in the mountains, to watch the stars from the bed, to never leave the cab or each other's arms as the windows fogged with your labored breaths and mingled heat.
    One night your grandparents were waiting up when you returned. Your grandfather was in a rage, your grandmother was all worry and woes. It was a sin, what you were doing, they said. In the eyes of what god, you demanded in return? Your grandmother clung to your arm, begging you to come to your senses - it was dangerous, and worse, you would be ruined for life. You told her that none of that meant anything to you. Only him, he was all that mattered. Only Christopher. To hell with everyone and everything else in that goddamned town that treated him with suspicion and shame - that could never begin to see how perfectly beautiful he was.
Your grandfather forbade you to see him.
You told him you were grown and he couldn't stop you.
He raised his hand, and your grandmother screamed.
    When Christopher pulled up in his pickup you were in front of Maple's Diner. He gasped as he crouched to cradle you in his arms and gently brush his fingers over your broken lip and the green bruise on your cheek. He gathered you up, gathered your little bags, and took you home.
Home to the woods.
To the little warm cabin.
To his arms and his heart.
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    It's the third winter since you left it all behind - everything that tried to keep you from him.
Things are so different now, so simple, slow, steady and intimate in the life you share. You've started talking about pups. Maybe someday. Maybe soon. 
    You look up at his lovely, peaceful face, washed golden in the firelight, and smile, settling back down against his chest. As the wind howls your eyes slip shut, and you sleep again in the strong, gentle arms of a wolf.
-Fin-
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