#heather flutters | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goldenbuckyyy · 10 months

Text

LOVER

Summary: An inside look into the happily ever after between you and Draco that is well deserved.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.3kish

Warnings: SMUT (!!), raw sex, synchronized orgasms, slight dirty talk, cream pie, making out, established relationship.. anything else?! Let me know!!

A/N: I had always been wanting to write this little epilogue for my favorite little story, Heather. Please read my previous post which is just an explanation into why I hadn’t posted in a while! I hope you enjoy this. Title inspo: “Lover” by Taylor Swift.

All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts! Love reading them. 🫶🏻

Story Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Shhhh, baby. You gotta be quiet,” your husband rasps into your neck, his deep voice sending goosebumps loose all over your skin, as he licks a small strip up to your chin as he proceeds to nibble on your bottom lip. His warm, soft hands touching your skin which makes you feel like you're burning underneath him.

You clench your eyes together to try and make sense of all of the different sensations you’re currently feeling.

A strangled moan chokes its way out of the back of your throat as he angles his hips upwards to go in deeper as you instinctively wrap one of your legs around his waist to give him better access. Your hands touch his soft skin around his waist as you hold onto him, gripping tightly into his flesh.

Your bodies synching together like they always have. Even after all these years. No amount of time would ever come close to being enough. You’re always going to want more.

More. More. More.

Your husband steals your moans as he covers your mouth with his own, his lips moving against yours softly, and your arms wrap around his neck to pull him into you. One of your hands moves into his hair, tugging at the roots gently as his own hands move to grip onto your hips, and you both start moving together. Speeding up when you start feeling the familiar ache in your lower belly.

You both pull away from each other's necks, smiling when you both notice the same reflexes, and you reach up to kiss your husband's sweet mouth once more. His thrusting only grows rougher and deeper, but still moves with caution and it makes your entire body erupt in chills as you both moan into each other's mouth when you climax together.

Always together.

Your toes curl into the bed as your husband continues to thrust into you, spilling himself completely into your warmth, and you peck his lips a couple times as he leans his forehead against yours. Both letting out loud pants and small giggles. A cheeky grin overtakes his face as his eyelashes flutter against his creamy skin.

His beautiful silver eyes meet yours as he kisses the tip of your nose and then he slowly pulls out of you which makes you whine at the loss of contact and he flips down next to you. He chuckles deeply as he rubs his chest, which is moving rapidly as he comes down from his orgasm, and his fingers brush against your breast.

His fingers caress your naked skin around your chest, “God, I love you. I love how we’re still in sync even after all this time.”

“So do I,” you whisper back sweetly to him as you reach over to him to kiss his cheek, which makes him flush like he always does, and you slowly start getting off the bed. You use the bedside table to steady yourself as you stand up.

“It’s starting already?” He yells after you as you speed walk into the master bathroom that you are so incredible thankful for at this second because you feel like your bladder is about to burst.

“Shush,” you exclaim back with a giggle as you proceed to finally sit down on the toilet and have yourself a wee. Your entire body relaxes at the feeling and you look down at your protruding belly.

Three months to go.

You reach over to grab your belly oil and rub it all over your stomach as you relax for a second. You almost jump off the seat when you hear your husband's voice from the door.

“You’re a sight, my love.”

“Draco!” You exclaim with an eye roll as you watch him watching you. He stands against the bathroom door, leaning against it, still naked, and you let yourself take in his body in its full glory.

You take a minute to admire his muscular posture with his lean frame. You admire his creamy, milky skin which is covered in bruises. Which were caused by your mouth. Always leaving them everywhere because you absolutely loved to mark him up. You always made sure they were in places that could be hidden underneath his Auror robes.

He still brought up the one time you accidentally marked him above the collar mark and everybody teased him for weeks until it faded away. Especially since Draco never used glamour charms on his skin.

You admire his long legs with his equally long torso and you loved how tall he was. He always made you feel safe and secure in his arms. You lick your own lips as your eyes land on his valuable member.

Your stomach tingles as he slowly strokes himself, still a bit hard for your morning activities, and you let out a laugh.

“Stop it,” you demand as you clean yourself up and proceed to wash your hands. You stare at him from the mirror with a small smile.

“Stop what?” He questions with a smirk as he goes to the toilet to do his own business.

“I’m already pregnant with your sixth offspring because of that thing!” Your eyes looking wide at his cock in his hands.

Draco lets out a loud, belly laugh that makes the corner of his eyes crinkle as he cleans himself up. “Technically it’s only your fifth pregnancy!”

“Don’t act like you don’t absolutely love it,” he whispers as he places a big kiss into your warm cheek causing you to giggle again.

You leave him be as you walk into your shared walk in closet. You pull over a matching pair of baby blue knickers and a soft bralette. You wiggle your way into your comfiest pair of black leggings and soft knit white jumper. You slip your feet into your fuzzy gray slippers and start making your way down the hallway. Your ears are perking up trying to hear any signs that your kids are up.

You start making breakfast the muggle way, thanks to Hermoine for teaching you, and you’re humming along to a song when the first sign of life invades your senses.

You feel small hands sneak up on your belly as you smile brightly, pausing as you mix the eggs, and look down at bright gray eyes looking up at you.

“Good morning, mummy!” Your little five year old daughter, Aries, whispers as she shows off her bright toothy smile.

You bend to kiss her forehead as she giggles, “Good morning, my little angel. Where’s your brother?”

She rubs your belly lightly as she then skips to her usual chair around the family table, “Brushing his teeth, mummy.”

“Did you brush yours already?” You ask with a raised eyebrow and she giggles even louder.

“Duh, mummy!!”

Right on time, Aries' twin brother Phoenix, comes running down the hallway.. excessively loud and giggling as your oldest ten year old son, Scorpius is chasing after him. Your seven year old, Leo, is walking behind them slowly. Yawning and rubbing his eyes lazily as he trails into his seat at the table as he moans out a good morning to you and blows you an air kiss.

“Be careful!!” You yell after them as Aries only watches them with a smile on her face as you continue cooking breakfast. You hear louder footsteps as Draco comes into the kitchen, ready for the day in his Head Auror robes, and holding your three year old daughter in his arms.

He reaches you, pecking your lips sweetly as if you didn’t just spend the morning wrapped around him, and lets you kiss Lyra’s soft cheek as she smiles at you. Her tiny hand touches your hair slightly.

Her eyes that match yours watch you as Draco walks away from you and tries to wrangle up all the kids for breakfast before he has to leave for work.

The kids are all yelling, moving, and proceeding to sit in their favorite seats. You and Draco proceed to move in sync together as you both gather plates for the kids. Moving to fill each with cut up pancakes, scrambled eggs, cut up strawberries, and each kid getting their favorite drinks. You quickly make Lyra a yogurt bowl with extremely small slices of strawberries on the side and a cup of her favorite milk.

Bumping hips and sneakily smiling at each other.

Draco starts handing each one of your shared kids their own special plate and drink as you make your own plate along with your husbands.

You set the plates down as you hand Draco’s hot coffee that’s under a stasis charm as he hands you a thankful smile and passes you your own cinnamon tea in your mug.

The room is soon filled with loud children talking. Scorpius and Leo arguing about what to do today after daddy gets home. Debating on if they should play quidditch or have a family movie night since it’s Friday. Which means daddy gets the weekend off. Aries and Phoenix are munching on their breakfast loudly and making silly faces at each other which causes them to giggle excessively at each other. Lyra sits in her high chair as she observes her siblings with a silly little smile on her face and trying her best to eat her yoghurt with her tiny pink spoon.

Draco feeds her small bites of his own pancakes as Lyra happily accepts them.

“What are your plans today, baby?”

You hum as you finish your bite of food, “Hermoine and Pansy are coming over today. They say they want help with the wedding planning, but I think they’re having godchildren withdrawal.”

Draco snickers at that with a slight eye roll, “Of course they are. Our children are the best.”

You smile at him, “So, Pansy told Theo and now he’s coming over with the kids as well.”

Draco nodded his head, “I’m sure Potter is happy about that.”

“Anything to get Theo away from his nesting habits and begging Harry for another baby,” you say with a soft smile as you think of your best friends.

Draco scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully, “I’m sure his baby fever will end once he sees your pregnant belly and our adorable Lyra. Didn’t they just adopt baby Sirius?”

“Baby Sirius is going to be four already! Then Lily and James are already Scorpius age. Theo is just scared of empty nesting, but Harry says he wants to wait until this big case he’s dealing with passes.”

Draco hums in agreement, “I wish we were like that.” And he proceeds to give you a soft teasing smile.

You poke him with your fork and shake your head, “We have kids basically every two years, these twin girls are the last ones!” You eye him with an authoritative look.

“Anything you say, my love.”

“Do you think Hermoine and Pansy will ever adopt or have kids of their own?” You ask as you watch Lyra to make sure she’s eating. Draco doesn’t miss the tone of your voice at your question.

“You’ve noticed the way Hermoine looks at your belly, huh?”

“I have,” you reply softly. “It’s just.. Pansy always says she’s okay with just being a godmother, but ‘Min…” you trail off with a sad smile.

Draco reaches over to your hand and squeezes, “I understand, trust me. Maybe get a second with Granger and just talk to her about what we’ve noticed.”

“Maybe. I don’t want to overstep,” you say as you sip your drink. Scorpius is the first one that finishes eating and he quickly thanks you for breakfast with a kiss on your cheek as he moves to start washing the dishes. You admire your first born for a second and can’t help but love how much he looks like his father and how big he’s gotten.

The same milky white skin with bright pale hair and even with the same matching gray eyes. His exact copy. Oh, you can’t help but tear up at how much you love your first baby boy. The first baby that made you a mother and taught you about a mothers love.

The one who made you want a million more babies.

Leo and Phoenix soon start helping clean up the plates as Draco helps Lyra get cleaned up. Aries helps him as you use your magic to clean up the table and Lyra’s high chair.

You hum in contentment as you proceed to kiss the cheeks of all your kids. Scorpius blushes, Leo kisses you back, Phoenix and Aries giggle, and Lyra pulls you in to attack you with kisses and hugs. Draco soon jumps into all the loving before he has to floo to work.

Draco piles all the kids into his arms as he squeezes them into his arms and then tells them to go play before their cousins come over.

He gently pulls you into his arms as one of his hands slips underneath your jumper to rub your belly as he kisses your lips sweetly. The feeling of his lips on your sends sparks all over your body like it always does and you savor his taste.

“I love you,” you whisper into him as he smiles against your lips.

“I love you more,” he whispers back with a couple more pecks against your smiling mouth.

“Be careful and I’ll see you soon,” you kiss your lips one more time as he steps into the fireplace.

“Always am, my love. And I’ll be counting down the minutes,” he says with a wink as he grabs a handful of floo powder and calls out his location. He bursts into green flames and your hearing soon fills with the sounds of your children’s giggles and loud voices playing together.

You take a moment to take it all in.

Loving the same boy… now man for as long as you can remember. The amazing life you both have built. It was never easy and there have been many hardships, but it was incredibly worth it.

What a beautiful life you both had built slips into your mind as you smile to yourself in pure bliss.

4K notes · View notes

floshav · 6 months

Text

part 2 to my last rodrick fic which u can read here !

summary: Rodrick proves his likeness for y/n through a spontaneous kiss leaving her smitten and dazed. However, thoughts of Heather still lingered in her mind, constantly being reminded of the blonde girl whenever she passed by. "Does Rodrick still like her?" "Does he even like me?" What happens when Heather suddenly takes interest in Rodrick after ignoring him for years just because she can't let y/n get what she wants.

wc: 2k plus

warnings: allusions to smut, heavy make out

2 weeks later...

the kiss, no not just the kiss but the two kisses rodrick and y/n shared that night resulted in their relationship. She had been left smitten and the feeling was one of those that even if you wanted to forget, you couldn't. The heart racing, blush inducing feeling of getting kissed on by rodrick the boy she'd been crushing on for years, with his rough boy lips which still managed to be soft and plush because well, he was Rodrick after all.

It was now a plain old Monday and she was lost daydreaming in her Calculus class, or was it english? She couldn't bother to take notice.

"Alright, take out your calculators and flip to page 56. We'll be grinding through the workbook today class!" Ms. Smith yelled whilst her big buggy glasses fell down the tip of her nose bridge, stopped by her finger which shoved them back in place. Y/n couldn't care less. Her mind was swarmed with what happened 2 weeks ago.

His lips grazed hers one more time, this time softer and one might say more lovingly if she was in a state of delirium. She felt his slender hand creep up the side of her hip brushing it against her shirt so so gently. He broke off the kiss and his face was so close to hers she felt as if she might faint right then and there. The boy who was rough, impatient and borderline rude crumbled in-front of her. She'd never seen Rodrick like this before. Each freckle, each fine line, each perfect imperfection visible to her now. She'd imagined this image thousands of times before, but never had she imagined it to come true. Rodrick hesitated before saying his next words "I- I really like you y/n. And- and i just want to set that clear before you try showing up to my house drunk silly again. You were being so wreck less you know that?" He chuckled dorky-ly ever so slightly which made her heart pound just a little harder. Her heart fluttered at how he cared for her.

"M'sorry I-i just, m'just so jealous." She slurred as her eyes began to tear up with a mix of happiness, jealousy, anger and most of all, sadness. "Why? You know i'm here for you and you only, stupid." Rodrick whispered so softly against her lips but y/n's mind swarmed with confusion. "B-but you always *hiccup* talk about Heather." She sighed as she let herself fall into her hands. "Makes it *hiccup* hard to believe" She said again. "I-" He moves further back and a familiar ache rises to her chest, one of abandonment. "She was just someone I was infatuated in. Nothing more. Fuck. If i really liked her, would i have kissed you back? Let alone kiss you again?" He said making eye contact this time. He looked absolutely illegal. The way his hair was his usual mess, his blown out eyeliner smudged beneath his fox eyes. His puffy lips. Everything about him made her feel unreasonably hot in the cool weather. "S-so no more feelings for her?" "No. no more." he said so seriously it made her scared. "In fact, she's an asshole and i don't want any part of her in my life." He said whilst memories of what Heather did earlier fled his mind. Rodrick plants a kiss at the corner of y/n's lips and this time she knows it was meant lovingly. Still, at the back of her mind, the one aching question lingered, didn't he say he loved her?

"Y/n?" "Ms y/n?" She blinked and the memory was interrupted by an annoying voice. "Do you care to open your workbook? Or do you intend on staring at the cover for the next hour?" Ms Smith's breath tickled the hairs on the back of her neck waking her from her daydreams of what happened that hazy night.

"Yea, sorry ms smith." She smiled tightly before flipping to page 66 or 57 the page number was was a blur to her, but an open book would do.

He planted a soft kiss at the crook of her neck.

suddenly her mind wandered to what happened later that night.

Hand riding up under her shirt. "is this okay?" His voice was earnest and soft against the skin of her neck.

her thighs clenched together unintentionally and she felt ashamed for imaging such lewd things. She'd been daydreaming about that night for the past few weeks. Each week making her crave for more until she felt sick. Rodrick hadn't made a move like that on her ever since, and she was just too shy to even ask so images in her mind would do for now.

He unclasped her bra in one swift motion and it made her question if he'd done this before, with... Heather? No, can't be, she doesn't even care for him. Right?

The kissing started to turn into making out and y/n felt his breathing falter when she brushed her pinky against his crotch by accident.

"Fuck do you even know what you're doing right now-"

"Ms. y/l/n!" Just as quickly as it started, her daydreaming had come to a halt.

"I've been calling your name for the past 5 minutes. Care to share your answer to the whole class? I assume you didn't even hear the question number i gave you. Number 5! Now." Ms. Smith tried to hush her yelling down to be more precarious.

"Sorry Ms." Y/n sighed before making her way to the black board with a dumb empty mind filled with Rodrick.

------------------

The same could be said about Rodrick. His usual sleepiness that was met with classes vanished ever since that night. Instead of sleeping, he was putting his pretty dumb brain to use by thinking. Thinking about y/n. Every night, everyday, every moment. He'd be lying if he said that she was the only girl he'd ever gained feelings for, because Heather Hills did exist. But it was true when he said he didn't like her anymore.

"Mmm- Aaah- R-rodrick p-please not my neck."

"Shhh, just one more kiss y/n, please."

"F-fuck!"

"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUC-"

Before Rodrick's dream could get any steamier he was awoken to the sound of Heather cursing just beside him, clearly to get someone's attention.

"FUCK! how am i going to do this!!!" Heathers voice was painfully exaggerated and Rodrick couldn't help but cringe. Was this the girl he was smitten by before?

"Oh- Hey Roddy!" Heather smirked as she twisted her body to face him.

Rodrick's head was rested on his arm and he couldn't help but look at her with dead eyes, clearly annoyed.

"You.... you play the drums right?"

"Mmm" Rodrick groaned as he scratched his temple, he was surprised at how much he didn't care for THE Heathers presence anymore.

"Was wondering if.... You'd wanna play a gig at my birthday party?"

Rodrick's eyes lit up. A gig? That was a once in a blue moon occasion to rodrick's ears. But reality struck him when he remembered it was Heather who was asking.

"Mmm sorry Heather, don't think i can." Though it ached him to decline the gig, he knew you wouldn't like it so he sucked it up. Rodrick felt a sense of pride when he realised he didn't stumble over his words around her anymore.

"Awwww but why! I'll pay you 50 bucks an hour, and you know my parties last long." She feigned a girly voice as she batted her long eyelashes which icked Rodrick out.

50 bucks an hour..... The offer was tempting but, you were even more tempting.

Before Rodrick could answer, you walked in the class with a goofy smile, ready to see your Rodrick with..... Heather.

Heather shot back daggers through a fake soft smile. The type she'd give to a teacher after almost being caught doing something.

"Oh... Hello there y/n! Sorry, Rodrick was just telling me about how he'd love to play drums at my party. Isn't that right Rodrick?"

"Wh- No?" Rodrick scoffed out, eyes squinting at the mischievous blue eyed blonde.

"Oh c'mon, don't lie to y/n just because you pity her! You're a man! Act like one." Heather said as she got up from her chair slightly agitated at the fact Rodrick didn't play along.

"See you there Roddy." Heather said before smirking and popping out her ass dramatically.

roddy... That nickname made y/n's blood boil and she never wanted to hear it again.

"I swear! I-I did not agree to any of the shit she just yapped about." Rodrick panicked whilst stumbling over his words like a nervous teenager, that familiar feeling rising again but this time towards y/n.

"Hard to believe Rodrick. Or should i say Roddy... God! i shouldnt have been so naive. I'm so stupid! I thought you were over her." Y/n lashed out before storming out the classroom in a hurry, not thinking straight.

"Wait! Fuck. That fucking bitch Heather." Rodrick sighed out as he reached for the class door.

You found yourself slanting against a crusty brick wall beside a half broken vending machine. You don't know why you overreacted so fast without even bothering to hear Rodrick's explanation but maybe it was because you were so stupidly insecure. You quickly fumbled around your pants pockets to find an old packet of ciggs you remembered you left there. There were 2 left so you lit one up and breathed in the pure comfort. It felt nice to not care just for a second with the cigarette around. When it could have gotten more peaceful you heard a set of obnoxious dorky feet approach you.

"Hey." Rodrick said lightly as he squatted down to your eye level, lanky hands hanging by each sides of his knees.

It made you jump a little and your facade of wanting to remain mad slowly revealed itself. You couldn't help but suppress a tight smile from leaking out.

"What" You said as you blew a whiff of smoke away from his face. His heart fluttered at the small gesture.

"I really did not agree to what Heather told you." He said seriously which was a rare look on Rodrick.

"Are you sure? Cuz it seems like you two are getting along just fine" Y/n sighed as she pushed her hair back, Rodrick's heart beat pounding harder by the second.

"Please, believe me I- I really did not agree to anything, I-I really want you to believe me please." Rodrick was pleading which was something she only saw when he was lovesick. At that moment she knew he couldn't harm her emotionally.

"Alright. Fine, I believe you." Y/n said with a tired voice, though deep down she was glad she could read Rodrick like an open book.

"Im so sorry." Rodrick sighs before nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck, still a nervous wreck whenever he handled her.

She releases her cig and reaches in to hug him back tightly and lovingly before breathing in the intoxicating scent of him. Far better than a cig.

Just around the corner was a cheeky little Heather, listening in to every single decibel of the convo. Heather tightly rolled her eyes and scoffed before it turned into a smirk. Something clicked in her head. She knew what she had to do.

She was going to fake it till she made it.

---------------------------

lol i feel like this story deserves a pt3 so if this does well i will continue it! I know this has been a long times worth of progress but i've been procrastinating writing like crazy lately and i've only started getting back into it. Anyway please do request because i'm always bored and free !

#rodrick fanfiction #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley fanfiction #rodrick imagines #rodrick smut #smut #rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick fanfic #rodrick heffley #rodrick x reader #rodrick rules #rodrick x y/n #not my rodrick

636 notes · View notes

turvi · 11 months

Text

Chicks Dig Bad Boys

Rodrick Heffley x Reader

According to Y/n, Rodrick was just another emo boy, a loser, a typical teenage dirtbag. At least, this is what she heard from Heather Hills. Y/n was shocked Heather even chose to talk to her. Not just because Heather is the 'it girl' of Westmore High School.

Y/n had cracked the code to deal with high school, and that was to avoid joining any kind of group and not get noticed by anyone. Even if you somehow develop a crush on someone, keep it a secret. So she was surprised when Heather sat beside her and decided to talk to her. Y/n merely shrugged her shoulder and nodded at appropriate times as she spoke, tuning out the blonde girl.

Of course, you were aware of the crush the boy was harbouring for Heather especially when he made a show of ruining Heather's birthday. Y/n saw it all happen and thought how Rodrick actually had a nice voice and had potential. So when Rodrick happened to sit beside her in the English class she off-handedly complimented his voice.

Y/n had expected him to give her a smug smile or make an inappropriate joke. What she didn't expect was to find a very flushed Rodrick who was trying to find the correct words to say to her. She couldn't believe her eyes. She never saw Rodrick become so flustered.

"Uh..th..thank you...it...it means a lot." Rodrick wanted to slap himself for speaking like forgot how to speak. Yeah sure he got a few claps and hollers when his band played but no one complimented his voice.

"Was that the first time you sang?" now she was intrigued. Rodrick looked up and saw a genuine smile on her face. He took a breath of relief. He had thought she was making fun of him.

"Uh..yeah. I only sing when we perform in my garage. I wanted to do something special for Heather. But clearly, it went wrong." he said as he ran his hand through his hair. Y/n almost extended her hand to fix his unruly hair but dropped her hand when she saw him smile. She felt her heart flutter

Shit

Now she had something to say to Rodrick, but she forgot when she saw him smile like that. Boys like him were not supposed to smile like that. He was not supposed to have such a soft smile. Her trance broke when she saw him smirking.

"I saw you last night...not in a creepy way. I mean... obviously, during all that chaos at Heather's birthday, I saw you." there was that damned smile again. "I didn't know you were friends with her." His tone had a genuine wonder.

Y/n chuckled. "I helped her a few times with assignments..not really a friend, but we know each other, plus free food. Who can say no to that?"

Y/n felt her cheeks warming up under his gaze and tried to hide it under the curtain of her hair when she suddenly felt his fingers against her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. At that moment, she realised Rodrick actually saw her. She realised Rodrick was more than a teenage dirtbag that the world told her to stay away from.

She cleared her throat "I have heard your band play...when I come to tutor Greg."

Rodrick's hand grew sweaty. He knew how loud his band practice was, mainly to annoy Greg and his best friend Rowley. But he can't help but felt guilty as he realised how much of a nuisance it would have been for her.

"I am so sorry if our practice disturbed you guys"

"Oh no it's ok..I actually don't mind. I like that kind of music. Although it would be nice if the volume is a bit low."

"yeah...yeah absolutely...no big deal we can even practice a bit later."

Rodrick looked ahead trying his best to control a giddy smile. He did not expect his morning to be this good.

"Great...so I will see you in the evening..if you don't mind"

"yeah yeah totally" Rodrick quickly responded with a big smile. He was looking forward to meeting her this evening...after he locked Greg in the basement again.

A/N: Ladies and Gentlemen the boy who got me into bad boys. Rodrick Heffley. I couldn't stop myself from writing for him. I feel like a teen again. REBLOG AND COMMENT if you like this.

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick x y/n #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #rodrick rules #diary of a wimpy kid #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick rules #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick imagines #devon bostick #devon bostick x reader #greg heffley #diary of a wimpy kid imagines #rodrick heffley fluff #rodrick fanfic #rodrick heffley fanfic #rodrick heffley imagine #turvi writes

2K notes · View notes

papipedroo · 5 months

Text

Traitor (Joel Miller x Reader)

Part Four of Whiskey Tears

Summary: You, Joel, and Ellie have been a trio from the start. You were a family, but you find your relationship with Joel withering when he starts to pull away. Now a new comer makes her way into Jackson and into Joel’s heart…

You found yourself sitting at Maria and Tommy’s kitchen table the next morning. Your shirt pulled up as Maria looked at the bruise forming on your side. You were grateful to them letting you stay in their guest room last night and most certainly for the next couple of days.

“So explain to me again how you got a giant sized bruise on your side.” Maria asked as she assessed the damage that had been done.

Your gaze fluttered to your hands as if I was being asked by my own mom, “I tried to kill Heather.” I mumbled.

Maria looked up from the wound, “You tried to kill Heather.” She repeated, “But why?”

“She threatened Ellie and so I tried to kill her.” You didn’t think it was that bad.

Maria sighed, “Sweetheart. That’s not how we deal with issues here.”

“I’m sorry…” You frowned apologetically, “Not for trying to kill her, but not being civilized about it.”

“Well that’s a start I guess.” Maria placed an ice pack on your bruise, “Thankfully nothing is broken. Did she do this to you?”

“No.” Your throat tightened as you answered, “Joel did.”

“He what?” Maria’s eyes widened, “He did this to you?”

“Joel did what?” Tommy stepped in the kitchen. He made his way to the fruit bowl, grabbing an apple.

“He… He pulled me off of her. I don’t think he meant to hurt me. I just…” Your sigh felt like a heaviness settling on your chest, “He didn’t realized his strength when he shoved me.” At least you hoped he didn’t…

“I’m going to kill him.” Maria seethed as he hand tightened into a fist.

You raised an eyebrow at her, “I’m sorry you can kill Joel, but I can’t kill Heather? Where is the democracy in that?”

“Oh hush.” Maria wanted to nudge you like she usually did, but held back given your current state, “I just don’t understand why he’s being this way.”

The two of you were both talking that you didn’t see Tommy leave, only when you heard the door slam did the both of you go silent.

“You don’t think he’s going over there do you?” Your voice trailed off as your mind ran through all of the possibilities that could happen between the two brothers.

Maria shook her head, “They’re Millers. A punch, a couple of words, and then they’re good. It’s what they do. Maybe Tommy can knock some sense into his brother.”

“She said something to him… Don’t abandon me.” You muttered as you mulled over the events of last night, “It looked like those words really got to him and I just have this unwarranted feeling that she’s manipulating him. Like she’s tightening her grip around what he cares about most which is saving the people he can save.”

“But why would she manipulate him?” Maria’s brows furrowed, “For what reason?”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head before looking at her, “But I refuse to let her tear apart my family. You should have seen her last night Maria. She knew what to say to get under my skin and it worked. Joel took her side.” You looked out the window to see the sun rising slowly, “Again…”

“I’m telling Mikel that you can’t go on patrol today.” Maria muttered as she cleaned up the table.

You gave her a stubborn look, “But it’s my turn to go on patrol, I’m not going to let this keep me from my job. I need to protect this place too.”

“What? You can’t go like this.” Maria countered with a look that only a mother could give.

You gave her a smile as you placed the wrapped ice on the table.

“I’ve traveled the road far worse than this. I can do it, trust me.” You stood up, ignoring the dull ache.

You were grateful that it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. You were also grateful for the chance to be out of Joel’s sight today.

“See you! Oh and tell Ellie for me that we are having a snowball fight as soon as I get back.” I waved at her goodbye before greeting the chilled morning weather.

It was warmer than yesterday, that was for sure… You thought as you made your way to the stables to meet Mikel.

“I wonder if Ellie is going to wear her jacket today.” You muttered with a motherly tone, “She better be.”

The morning light greeted the home, but it felt anything but comforting. Not with one person of the family missing.

“Miller.” Ellie greeted her dad as she sipped on her orange juice.

It was the orange juice that her mom spent the other day making. It made all the more reason for Ellie to glare at the old man who looked like he hadn’t slept at all last night.

“You callin me Miller now?” Joel huffed as he grabbed himself a coffee mug.

“Yep. Because until my mom comes back, you Miller are nothing, but a stranger to me.” Ellie huffed.

Joel gave her his famous unimpressed look before pouring himself a cup of coffee.

He tried to think of the best way to explain what happened last night. How he reached the top of the stairs and found his firefly trying to kill someone in their home. How he just didn’t want anyone else to die. How he couldn’t understand why she hated Heather so much… Before he could say anything to Ellie, there was a banging at his door.

“Joel!” His brother’s voice carried through the wooden door, “You better get your ass out here right now before I kick this door in!”

“Jesus.” Joel shook and set his coffee down.

Of course he couldn’t have a quiet morning to think about how he would apologize to his firefly and talk about what happened.

His boots thudded against the floor as he made his way to the front door. Another bang from Tommy made his jaw clench.

“What is so important—” He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence before Tommy was swinging at him. Joel’s eyes widened as he leaned out of the way and grabbed onto his brother’s wrist.

“Jesus Tommy, what the fuck?” Joel grumbled in disbelief.

“You’re an idiot Joel.” Tommy huffed as he yanked his arm to free his wrist, but to no avail.

“I conquer.” Ellie spoke from the kitchen entrance, her orange juice in hand. M

Joel rolled his eyes as he let go of Tommy’s wrist before he turned his attention towards Ellie. He nodded his head towards the direction of the stairs, “Go get ready.”

She groaned, but listened to him nonetheless as she clambered up the stairs.

“You hurt her.” Tommy stated, his tone was more even after his short burst of anger.

Joel gave him a look that soon turned into defeat as he ran a hand through his ruffled hair.

“I know I shouldn’t have kicked her out, but they were going to kill each other Tom. I wasn’t exactly thinkin clearly at that moment.” Joel explained.

“No.” Tommy shook his head as he shoved his brother’s shoulder, “You. Hurt. Her.”

“What do you mean?” Joel pressed.

Tommy continued as the weight of his words settled in to Joel’s heart, “I walked down the stairs this morning to find my wife tending to your girl with a massive bruise on her side.”

Now it was Joel’s turn to look guilty as he finally realized what he had done. Accident or not he hurt her… Joel looked at Tommy with worry, “A bruise?”

“She said you shoved her.” Tommy elaborated.

His words held a darker tone, one that Joel rarely saw in his brother except for the time back in the day when Tommy would call wasted from a jail cell. This was different though because it wasn’t Tommy bashing someone’s head against a bar… No… This was Joel’s fault and Joel would get eaten by a clicker before he would deny that.

The pieces came back together quickly. Joel vaguely remembered last night, but he knew that he pulled her off of Heather to try to break up their fight. He just didn’t realize how much strength he had used.

“Shit.” Joel seethed.

“Yeah.” Tommy agreed, “Just you wait until you see Maria. She’s pissed at you.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt her Tommy. I would never… I didn’t mean to.” Joel ran a hand through his hair again, this time with anxiety and guilt rushing through him, “Is she okay?”

“It’s a big bruise.” Tommy’s gaze softened at his brother’s distraught state, “But there’s nothing broken. She’ll be fine in a few days.”

Joel nodded before immediately reaching for his winter jacket and shrugged it on, “I need to talk to her.”

“Can’t.” Tommy stated simply.

Joel turned to his brother with furrowed brows, “What do ya mean I can’t?” He muttered.

“It’s her route today and knowing that girl she convinced Maria that she could go.” Tommy looked up at the where the sun was, “You can try, but I’m not sure they’ll be there.” Tommy explained, his arms crossed as he watched the way his brother’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I’ll take my chances.” Joel grabbed his coat and rushed out the door.

“If she ain’t there then can grovel to her when she gets back.” Tommy proposed, “Hopefully then she’ll be less likely to stab you.” Tommy joked as he turned and walked down the steps.

Joel carried on walking when he heard his brother call out to him.

“Word of advice brother. Get your shit together and kick Heather out before you loose your firefly for good. There’s no use in protecting someone else when you end up loosing someone you care more about.”

“Where is he going?” Heather made her way out of the door.

“To get his girl back.” Tommy looked to Heather, “Look I don’t know the full extent of what’s going on, but I heard enough to know that you should stay out of their business.”

“He is my business.” She said defiantly.

Tommy’s eyes narrowed, “No. He’s her business. They’ve been together a lot longer than you’ve been stayin here.”

“Tell me.” She looked Tommy in the eyes, her voice still as sweet as ever, but her gaze held something different, “Right now. If he were to choose between her and me. Who would it be?”

“I suggest taking that offer Tris gave you and move out…” Tommy said all that she needed to hear, “If you’re as nice as you seem then you can provide this act of kindness.”

“Today preferably.” Ellie muttered as she pushed passed Heather and walked towards Tommy.

“Yeah.” Heather muttered before she walked back inside and slammed the door shut.

“I am not spending the day with her.” Ellie began to walk, “Come on, I’m hungry and if you’re here then I know that Maria is the one making breakfast.”

Tommy chuckled before following after the girl.

You were trudging through the snow, seeing the barn on a few steps from you. Mikel stood by two saddled horses, his dirty blonde hair was covered by a tan cowboy hat, weathered by age and sun.

“Morning.” Mikel waved at you, his accent thick.

You remember asking him the first time you both went out on patrol together. He told you his parents were from Romania before they settled here in America.

“You look rough. You doing okay?” Mikel watched how my stride was slower than normal.

“Yeah. Everything’s good.” I nodded my head not wanting to get into your private business with Mikel. He was a friend of course, but you like sharing your problems with anyone outside of your family. Thankfully he didn’t push the topic.

“You found a new hat.” I commented as I reached for one of the horses’s reins, “Hope you didn’t wait too long.”

“John gave this to me. Pretty cool don’t you think?” He tipped his hat before getting on his horse, “And no. Not long. I just came out when you showed up.” Mikel handed you a rifle.

“Thanks.” You said and went to check the barrel to make sure it was loaded.

“You don’t have to. John said he loaded it.” Mikel said.

You smiled at him, “Sorry, it’s a force of habit from Joel. I can’t help it.” You looked back down again to check the gun until you heard his voice.

Speak his name and he shall appear.

“Firefly.” He called out to you.

It made you look up, forgetting about the gun as Joel engulfed you in his strong arms.

“Joel—”

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Jesus. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I promised I would never hurt you and I did last night.” Joel curled his fingers into your hair as he breathed in your scent, “Don’t go today sweetheart, I’ll go. Just please stay with Ellie.”

You pushed back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, “No.” You stated firmly as you carefully pushed him away even if you were ripping your heart out of your chest, “I need time away from you right now and waiting worriedly for you to come home safe won’t help that.”

“You’re the one who hurt her? I should’ve know it was you.” Mikel stepped up beside you, “Why don’t you leave her alone old man.”

Joel’s fist clench as he clocked in on the young man with a hard glare, “What did you just say?” The word barely got out, sounding more like a muffled growl.

“You heard me.” Mikel pushed Joel’s shoulder, “She deserves better than you. Someone who can protect her.”

Joel didn’t try to fight back, of course he didn’t. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten you by pummeling the young guys face in. No he stood like a force that couldn’t be moved and let Mikel shove him as if he were some tough guy when in reality, Mikel’s shove didn’t even make Joel stumble.

Joel’s glare hardened, “I know she does, but I don’t think you’re the one to decide what she wants.”

“Mikel stop.” You placed a hand on his arm and pulled him back, but he slipped from your grasp heading straight to Joel.

“Oh, but I think she’ll let me with the cute little obedient thing that she is. After all she lets you run all over her does she not?” Mikel whispered so lowly in Joel’s face that you couldn’t hear what he was saying, “It will be easy to get her to behave once she’s mine.”

He took back everything he just said. He could pummel this guys face in. Joel’s fist connected with Mikel’s jaw within the two seconds it took for Mikel to smirk. That smirk however was wiped clean off his face as he fell harshly into the snow.

“Fuck!” Mikel cried out as he clutched his jaw from the seething pain.

“Joel!” You gasped at the sight, unsure of whether to be angry or appalled. You decided that both reactions would do.

“I’m sorry.” Joel apologized to you and only you for having to see that. He didn’t apologize to Mikel who clutched his jaw in pain. He hoped that he would feel that punch for weeks, maybe even have a fracture in his jaw… But Joel could only hope.

“I can’t believe you right now!” You cried out absolutely frustrated over the entire morning. Joel’s eyes widened as you stepped towards him and shoved him back. He couldn’t be angry with you though. You didn’t know what Mikel said. He just let you try to push him, “You’re the one who did all of this. You have no right to be angry!” You yelled at him before turning around.

You reached down to help Mikel up, “Are you good to go on patrol?” You asked him as you looked at the bruise already forming on his jaw. Mikel muttered a yes, a glare directed towards Joel.

“Go get on your horse and we’ll head out.” You told Mikel who walked over to his horse without complaint, being sure to hide the smirk growing on his face.

“Don’t go.” Joel’s focus was solely on you, his hand reaching out as if he wanted to take your hand, but held back, “He—”

“I don’t care what he said or what you just did Joel. Go home.” You glared at him.

“I don’t like him around you.” He pressed, his glare zoning in on Mikel.

“Well tough luck Joel. You don’t get to go around being jealous over the fact that Mikel’s my friend after all the shit you’ve done to me with Heather.” I spat out her name like it was venom, “Go home Joel. I don’t want to see you for a while.”

His face fell, “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t know what I mean right now.” Your gaze flickered to the ground, “Please.”

Joel sighed, his shoulders tense and angry at himself for being unable to convince you to stay, “Fine.” He agreed gruffly, “As long as I know you’re coming back tonight.”

“Why should I come back?” You muttered.

“For Ellie.” He knew it was a low blow, but he didn’t want you to leave them.

“You’ve pushed me away for months Joel. What do you want me to do?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest to hide the anxiousness that you felt.

“I know.” Joel nodded numbly, “I just… Fuck.” He sighed, “I don’t want anyone else dying on my hands.”

“People die Joel.” You explained as you stepped back, “It’s choosing who you love more. Her or me. And to be honest… I don’t think I’ll like the answer you give me.” You turned away from him and mounted your horse.

“You.” He said when the only thing left of you was your horses hoof prints in the snow, “Always.”

It was an awkward first thirty minute ride for you and Mikel. The two of you kept to yourselves and welcomed the timid silence.

“Is he always like that?” Mikel muttered.

“Not always… It’s been…” You sighed as you adjusted the gun on your shoulder, “Is your jaw okay? He’s got a pretty strong right hook. I’m surprised you’re still conscious.”

He shook his head with a breathy laugh, “I’m tougher than I look. What do you even see in someone as broken as him?” He wondered as he looked at you.

That question caught you off guard and it took you a moment to answer, but you knew the truth. It lied deeply in your bones, an echo of your heart.

“Everything.” You looked up to the sky, “The good, the bad, the broken, I see everything…”

“I could treat you better you know.” Mikel fixed his hat, “If you gave me a chance. I think we would be good together.”

You breathed out a laugh, “Oh really now?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

He dipped his head towards you and put on his best Texan accent, “You bet darlin.”

The two of you broke into laughter.

“We’ve gotten along well for months have we not? If you give me a chance I can show you how you should be loved.” He continued, a hopeful look in his blue eyes.

“Thanks.” Your tone was a lot more calm than from earlier, “But I have my Joel waiting for me back home even if we are fighting.” You gave him a soft smile, “I’m glad that we are beginning to become friends though. I hope we can keep this friendship.”

“Me too…” He replied and you felt that was enough.

Maybe if you paid closer attention you would see something was off. The shadows in the trees or the hand tightening around a rifle.

“Let’s head out a bit further today.” Mikel suggested and you nodded your head.

“Alright.” You answered.

You should have paid more attention.

Joel entered the house with a heavy sigh and a deep ache in his chest. That did not go as he planned… He fucked up. He really fucked up and now he wasn’t sure if you would come back. It was like you were slipping through his fingers and he could do nothing to hold onto you.

“What did you do?” Ellie spoke up.

Surprised at the voice, Joel turned around to face Ellie who sat on the staircase behind him. Her boots were still untied, but it looked like she had been sitting there for a while.

“How long have you been sitting there?” Joel asked.

“Since I heard you groveling up the steps.” Ellie crossed her arms, “What did you do?”

Joel cringed at her words, “I… I fucked up.” Joel took a few steps towards her.

“I can see that, but how bad?” She pressed, “She is coming home isn’t she? She is right Miller?”

He grabbed onto the staircase railing to help him sit on the step, but it didn’t make crouching down any easier, “I don’t know…”

Ellie snorted, “You really are old.”

“Shut up.” Joel spat as he finally sat down beside her.

“What did you do?” Ellie asked again, “Why are you so worried she isn’t coming home?”

It was quiet for a few moments before Joel finally answered Ellie’s question, “I punched Mikel.”

“No!” Ellie gasped, “You didn’t!”

Joel nodded, “I did.”

Ellie knew that Joel didn’t act without reason, “What did he do?” She asked this time.

“He isn’t good for her.” Joel answered, not wanting to relay the words Mikel had said to him to Ellie. She would go chasing after the two and pummel Mikel to the ground.

Ellie wanted to lighten the mood and so she smirked, “Bet you were jealous.”

Joel glared at her from the corner of his eyes, “Was not.”

She started to laugh. She couldn’t help it. It must have been hilarious, “Oh you definitely were!”

Joel only grunted at her in response not wanting to continue this conversation anymore. He wondered if maybe Tommy would have a job for him today… He could sure use the distraction.

Ellie wiped at her tears, “You know I really don’t know what she sees in you. I mean I do, but I don’t.” She explained in the nicest way she possibly could which for Ellie was being very blunt. Something that her and Joel had in common.

Ellie and her honest words have always made Joel irritated, but he knew deep down that she was right. At least about this.

It was a while before Ellie looked towards him again. She saw the sullen look on his face and watched the way his scowl seemed to deepen even more. Carefully, Ellie rested a hand on his shoulder, as delicately as she could as if she was about to startle a bear.

“You saved who you needed to save. Now it’s time to let Heather live her own life and bring mom home.” She said.

Joel sighed deeply, knowing the kid was right, “I don’t know what she sees in me either.” Joel answered her honestly. He couldn’t tell her that she would come home and why should she? He treated her horribly and now it’s hitting him in the chest. Making it tighten as if he couldn’t breathe. It was the same feeling he felt when they first arrived here. When he thought that he couldn’t protect his girls and now… Now he feels like he’s loosing the one woman he’s grown to love, “I’m going to go see Tommy about some work. I’ll be back later.”

He feels like he’s lost her for good and that truly terrifies him…

It’s been more than a couple of hours since you first es headed out on your patrol.

“How long have we been out here?” You asked as you looked up at the darkening sky.

“Not too long though we should probably head back soon…” Mikel’s voice trailed off, “Let’s just head down this bend and we’ll turn around.”

You agreed to his suggestion and the two of you continued down the snowy bend. It was a few more minutes of riding before you saw that Mikel was squinting at something.

“What is it?” You asked.

“I don’t know…” Mikel stated and the two of you rode a little closer to see what it was.

You both looked at the abandoned building that was down the hill.

“What is a cabin doing out here?” You asked.

“Don’t know. No one has ever been out this far…” He muttered, “Let’s go check it out.”

Mikel’s words only prompted you to move forward as you both traveled down the snowy hill and towards the small cabin.

It looked to be old, and most likely unused as there was no smoke billowing out the chimney from this chilled weather. The two of you cleared the area first before circling the home. Mikel went around back as you entered the cabin. The opened door provided some light, but not enough to see the inside of the cabin in its entirety. It wasn’t until you pulled back the tattered curtain to the windows that you realized the place fully furnished.

You thought there wouldn’t be much to it, scraped barren from the world that had been pushed upon it, but you were wrong… And you didn’t like that you were.

You looked around carefully, not finding anything else out of the ordinary until you ventured further towards the fireplace. Even though there was no flame or smoke to the coals, they were still hot. An unwelcome chill feel over you as you quickly stood up, much more alert than you were previously.

You remained silent as you crept to the front of the house, gun now raised as you went to find Mikel. You hoped that he was still walking about outside and that whoever was here previously was long gone. You slowly stepped outside, eyes immediately locking onto the figure in front of you. You expected to see raiders, a clicker, hell a bloater would have made more sense then Mikel standing there with his own rifle directed towards you.

You didn’t lower your weapon as you asked him, “What are you doing Mikel?”

“I need you to listen to me. Please.” His request was a near plee, something that you found irking.

“I’m listening.” Your eyes darkened at him.

“I fell for you the first time I saw you all those months ago. You were like a breath of fresh air and rain. I did everything to get near you, even fixing us to go on routes together when Joel left. She said I could have anything I liked if I did what she asked. She promised me this.”

“She? What you mean she?” I muttered as I wracked my brain for an answer that could explain all of this.

“She said I could keep you.” Mikel’s grip tightened around his gun as a crazed look fell over his eyes, “I followed orders. I did everything for this moment and now. Now it’s my turn to have what I want.”

“You led me here.” You realized, “This is your cabin.” You didn’t want to listen any more to his words. The only thing on your mind was getting back to your family. Your eyes narrowed as you squeezed the trigger without hesitation, but you didn’t get the recoil that you were expecting. You tried again… Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Your anxiety picked up when you began to realize this.

“You can shoot all you like. There’s no bullets.” He stated and that was all the answer you need. That’s why he handed you the gun earlier. That’s why he was assuring you it was loaded. You should have checked. You shouldn’t have forgotten about the damn gun. You should have checked. Joel would have…

Joel.

You wished for everything in your soul that he was here with you right now. Fuck. Quickly you threw the gun to the snow and ran as fast as your legs could carry you.

Mikel sighed as he aimed his gun at you, “I was really hoping that you would see it my way.” He fired without hesitation, shooting you in the leg, “I did this all for you. For us.”

You gave a blood curling scream as you fell, staining the cold white snow in the warmth of your blood. You heard more footsteps and the sound of horses from behind you and you knew then that your home was about to be destroyed.

“Everything is prepared for your arrival.” Mikel stated, “Don’t keep Heather waiting.”

“Another successful raid.” One of the guys chuckled out, “She’s too cunning. I knew that was why John kept her around. And that girl? You gonna share?”

“This one is mine.” Mikel answered and you could hear his footsteps head towards you.

“Joel!” You screamed his name even if he couldn’t hear you, “Joel!”

Mikel straddled your waist, digging the bit of his gun into your wounded leg, “You’re still screaming his name even after everything he’s done to you? I am better than him!” He yelled as you cried out in pain, “Why can’t you see that?!”

You turned and watched over half the town population of raiders heading towards Jackson. It left a horrid feeling inside your gut as you could do nothing lie in the snow.

Your only thoughts were of Ellie and Joel.

“I’ll make you see that I’m the one for you.” He whispered in your ear.

Please survive. You must survive.

Silence fell over Joel and Ellie as Heather served them dinner. They were both lost in their own thoughts as they waited for her to come home.

“It’s getting late… Do you think something happened to her?” Ellie asked as she peered out the window the darkening sky.

“I’m not sure dear. Maybe they had to find shelter from the weather picking up?” Heather placated as she served them.

“I’ll go check with Tommy, see if she’s there.” Joel began to stand.

“But your food.” Heather pointed to his untouched plate, “You should at least eat something before you go. Don’t you think?”

“I’ll be back.” Joel reassured, “You two can eat without me.”

“I’m coming with you.” Ellie stated as she pushed her plate aside, ready to join him on his search.

Joel immediately shook his head while he was putting on his coat, “I don’t want you catching a cold out there. I’ll go find her.”

“Promise?” Ellie’s eyes showed her worry as she looked up at Joel.

“Promise.”

“Stay safe then. I’ll look after Ellie until you get back.” Heather nodded towards Joel. He returned the gesture.

“And Heather?” Joel called out.

“Yes?” Her gaze looked hopeful.

“We’ll discuss more about your move with Tris. I think your well acquainted with the lifestyle here to start building your new life on your own.” He said before heading out.

“I hope you like meatloaf.” Heather ground her teeth as she tried to remain calm from Joel’s biting words.

But she would make him see…

Not at all… Ellie thought as she looked at her plate. She cut into the meatloaf as she watch Heather serve herself. It looked off, but she warily took a bite and swallowed the unknown substance.

“Why are aren’t you eating yours?” Ellie asked as she slowly chewed her food.

“Not that hungry I suppose, but that just means more for you.” It was the way Heather’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes that made Ellie feel uneasy.

Slowly she put down her fork, feeling nauseous, “I’m not that hungry either.” She said, but she had already eaten some of the dinner, “I think im going to go lie down.” She tried to stand, but the room spun and she ended up crashing to the ground.

“Sweet dreams dear.” Was the last thing Ellie heard before falling asleep.

She would make him see that they are meant to be together.

Joel checked the barn first before heading to his brother’s house. He quickly noted that two horses were still missing from there stables. That only let Joel’s worst fear come true at realizing she wasn’t over at Tommy and Maria’s house. It made his swift walk into almost a jog as he raced over to Tommy’s.

“What do you mean she hasn’t come back yet?” Tommy asked the moment Joel barged in, letting them know what has happened.

“I don’t know. I was hoping she would be here, but her horse is still missing. I think something has happened to her.” Joel ran a hand through his hair.

“Well round up some folks and head out there on a search.” Maria insisted as she stood up.

“That sounds like a plan. I’ll get—“ Before Tommy could finish his sentence multiple gunshots could be heard through the town.

“What’s that?” Maria’s eyes widened at the loud noise.

“Whatever it is. It doesn’t sound good.” Tommy murmured as he quickly put his boots on.

Joel’s heart was racing as he tried to keep a level head, “Tommy, Ellie—“

Tommy nodded his head, “Go get her and bring her here. Maria you stay and keep an eye out for them okay? I’ll go find out what’s going on.”

“It sounds like a raid.” Maria sounded worried as the gunshots continued, now paired with yells and screams.

“That’s why I need you to stay here, arm yourself, and hide. Wait for Joel to come back with Ellie and I’ll be right behind them okay?” Tommy pressed a tender kiss to Maria’s forehead before he and Joel were out the door, armed and ready for a fight.

“I’ll head with you for a couple blocks and then break off okay?” Tommy whispered to Joel.

Joel grunted with a nod as the two blended in with the night.

It wasn’t long before Joel was silently hurrying up the steps and threw his front door. The house was dark and it seemed oddly quiet as he searched the place for any sign of Ellie. He quietly made his way upstairs and to her room where he was pushing the door open. He expected her to be awake, packing her backpack, but instead she found her unconscious and tied with duck tape on her bed. His footsteps were quick as he rushed over to her, but froze when he heard the clock of a gun.

His piercing eyes flitted over to the corner of the room where the moon shined on Heather’s face. There she stood with a gun pointedly in Ellie’s direction. She knew what she was doing. His life meant nothing to him, but Ellie… Well she was his world.

“You know I really thought you were smarter than this Joel.” Heather tsked with a sigh, “I thought this would go a lot smoother too, but you just couldn’t choose me could you?”

“What did you do to her?” Joel’s gun was facing her with no hesitance to kill if he got the wrong answer.

“Don’t worry, I only drugged little Ellie that’s all.” She tilted her head, “She’ll be fine as long as you are cooperative so why don’t you be a good boy and put down the gun.”

Joel slowly lowered to the floor as he placed his rifle down, “Why are you doing this?” Joel’s voice dropped lower as he quickly assessed the situation.

“Didn’t you hear? This town is in need of a little remodeling and I know just the group to get that done.” She smirked.

“You don’t mean…” Joel’s fist clenched at the feeling of betrayal seeping through him.

“Oh yes. Surprise! You should be happy. All of this couldn’t have happened without you.” Heather smiled.

“I didn’t.” Joel huffed defiantly.

“But you did. You helped me dethrone John. Took him out so I could be on top and it’s quite nice up here, but I don’t want to be alone. You’ve shown me just what love could feel like and I know that we could rule this town together now that your precious firefly is out of the way.”

“What did you do to her?” He growled and Heather rolled her eyes.

“You’ll never see her again, I can promise you that.” She laughed, “And you dug yourself too deep to gain her forgiveness Joel. Something you’re never going to get from her again.” She stepped towards him, “Why don’t we just have a glass of whiskey and forget about her hm?”

“What. Did. You. Do.” His tone was as harsh as the gun fire outside.

“Why do the tiny details matter? She’s gone. You’ve made it perfectly clear when you casted her aside. I saw it in your eyes Joel. You feel something for me!” She urged, “All you need to do is just give us a chance.” Heather pleaded, “You, me, and Ellie would be good together. We will be the perfect family.”

“No.” Joel’s tone held no room for consideration, “You’re not her. You’ll never be her. I don’t know what kind of delusion you have where we end up together, but it will never happen.”

“Oh fuck you.” She glared at him, “Is this really because of her?” Her hands shook with rage as she held the gun.

“She means more to me than you will ever know and if she is dead. I promise you, the infected will be the least of your worries.” He threatened.

“Really now?” She scoffed as she tried to subdue her anger, “Why don’t you worry about the girl you still have left hm? You really want me to be the villain here then fine…”

Her gaze narrowed as her gun clocked, “Dawn is coming your way and it’s about to bleed red.”

#joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel tlou #pedro pascal #pedro x reader #joel the last of us #joel x reader #pedro is daddy #pedrostories #joel miller angst #joel and ellie #whiskeytearsseries #whiskeytears

712 notes · View notes

thehighladywrites · 5 months

Text

I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater…

Pairing: azriel x reader, the ic, lucien and elain, and helion mentioned

Summary: angst, no happy ending for him, a bit ooc azriel bc he’s an absolute ass in this. also I can’t make elain the villain bc I love her. bittersweet ending, cassian and feyre being the most wonderul people ever. some swearing, like a tiiiiiny nsfw scene, like it barely counts, but i’ll warn you anyways.

Author’s note: yeah, this was inspired by heather, so definitely listen to it while reading💔 i just think this was the perfect day👀 never again am i writing angst, plus i might have been a bit dramatic when said this was gut-wrenching, i don’t think this was very angsty, just a bit tragic. but i hate angst so any angst is gut-wrenching in my eyes🤷🏽‍♀️ also there’s no revenge better than rising above…

Word count: 6,5 k words

If you see any grammar errors or spelling mistakes, no you didn’t ❤️

"Y/n, I practically hear your teeth chattering. Here, wear this." Azriel removed his sweater, passing it to you with a hint of concern in his eyes. You bit the inside of your lip to keep from smiling, he was always so thoughtful and observant. It was on of the reasons you fell in love with him.

"It's okay, Az, you'll freeze." You attempted to return the warm clothes, but he firmly pushed them back, fixing you with a stare that left no argument.

"I won't freeze. You know I'm used to this weather. Bet you miss your old home right about now." He alluded to your home court, The Day Court where the sun always shines, and standing on the balcony on a crisp December morning doesn't make your fingers feel like they'll fall off.

You arrived in Velaris to assist with document translations, given your expertise. Your services were in high demand across various courts. And initially, a month-long stay extended to two, then three. Eventually, enchanted by Velaris and its people, you asked Helion if you could make it your permanent home. The support of your friends added to the whole experience.

You slid into Azriel's warm sweater, feeling its comforting embrace. The fabric whispered tales of comfort and safety, an unspoken promise against the biting cold. As you adjusted to the newfound warmth, your heart felt a different heat—one that spoke against the unspoken feelings you had towards him. The subtle scent of his cologne lingered, intertwining with the softness of the fabric, creating a scent that seemed to make your heart flutter twice as hard. In that moment, you couldn't help but let the warmth of the sweater mirror the warmth within you.

“ Feel better?” You nodded, avoiding his eyes in fear that he’d be able to see the emotions portrayed on your face.

“ Thanks, Az. For the sweater and all. It’s really warm.”

The corner of his lips twitched as his eyes remained on you, “Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did me anyways.”

He grabbed your hand before you could respond and walked back in, closing the balcony doors. Stuck between friends and something more, you felt lost. Wanting to confess your feelings to Azriel but scared it could mess things up, you were torn. The shared laughs felt like good friends, but those lingering looks sparked a longing for more. Balancing this act, you wrestled with risking the friendship for a shot at something deeper. In the middle of all this, you were standing there, not sure which way to go.

As you hesitated walking further with him, Azriel noticed you stopped walking and furrowed his brow. "Hey, what's up?" he asked, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

You wanted to tell Azriel how you felt, but doubts held you back. As you looked at him, the sweater felt heavy with unsaid words. You wondered if it's better to say what's on your mind or keep it to yourself. Fear answered for you as you shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile.

——————

Later that day, during dinner, Azriel asked you to meet him in the upstairs library while your friends were distracted, to which you accepted, head spinning at the possibilities.

In the quiet sanctuary of the library, the air thick with unreadable energy, Azriel's eyes met yours. Without a word, he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours, a silent acceptance of the feelings that had lingered in the unspoken spaces between you. The unexpected kiss marked a sweet transition between friendship and the uncharted territory of something more.

——————

For over a year, you and Azriel kept things under wraps, not really calling it a relationship. It was a secret, a kind of unspoken understanding. The stolen moments and shared looks formed the backbone of whatever it was between you. You regularly fell in each other’s beds and spent intimate moments together. There was however one specific night you’d always cherish.

You were in his bed, cuddling after he gave you yet another amazing time. Your legs were h thrown over his hips as you occasionally kissed his plushy lips. He held you tighter and ran his hand under your sweater. His eyes were lidded as he whispered intimately,

“ This sweater looks so fucking good on you, please never take it off. I’ve never given anything to another woman, but there’s something special about you. I love it when you wear it, like a reminder that you’re mine. No one else will wear it.” He pulled you closer and kissed your neck and collarbones. His hot breath made yours hitch as he fondled with your stiffened nipples.

Your attempt to come up with a response faltered as he brushed over another sensitive area, prompting a moan to escape your lips.

————————————

But as time passed, the lack of clarity started to wear on you. The hidden nature of it all was both a source of comfort and frustration. You yearned for more, a real relationship, a label to put on what you had with Azriel.

But with the war and Feyre's sisters entering the scene, everything got complicated. Your attention got scattered, and the chaos made the unspoken thing with Azriel less of a priority for a while.

————————————

After the traumatic and bloody war, you tried to seek Azriel for comfort, but he busied himself with Elain. His focus seemed to be on her, making it hard to find a moment to reconnect. The situation left you feeling unsure about where things stood between you two.

As the days went by, you noticed Elain entering Azriel's world completely, capturing his attention in a way that left you filled with jealousy and pit growing in your stomach. Her presence became a subtle intrusion, and the shared moments that were once exclusively yours now seemed to be scattered between you and her. The laughter and conversations, once intimate, now carried a different tone, a rushed tone to hurry away to Elain. A pang of jealousy crept into your heart, and the undefined nature of your connection with Azriel began to feel more fragile. The fear of losing him to someone else tugged at your emotions, leaving you questioning the unspoken relationship you had shared for so long.

You couldn’t even blame him. Elain was a sight for sore eyes, a beautiful girl with an even more beautiful soul. She had only treated you with kindness, giving you thoughtfull Solstice gifts and advice when needed.

You couldn’t justifiably be mad at her.

You’d pick her over you too.

—————————

Maybe you should just face your problems head on and ask him for some advice to break the newfound ice. His grunts were heard as he punched cassians face, getting some blood on his knuckles. Approaching him in the training pit, you hoped he wouldn’t dismiss you. “ Hey, Az, can we talk?”

Looking at you with an unreadable expression, he sharply replied, “Yeah, sure, quick. What's up?”

You tentatively asked, noticing his mood, “ Um, you wanna go for a walk? I haven’t seen you for a while. Also, we’re supposed to meet tonight, are you still up for it?”

He glanced around, eyes searching for an out, “Can it wait? I've got something I need to take care of.”

You felt dismissed as he didn’t even address what you mentioned and used whatever power you had left and asked, “ I just thought-“

"Look, I'll catch up with you later, alright? But yeah, I guess i’ll meet you tonight." After Azriel quickly walked off, you felt a sting from his unintentional rudeness. He had been acting like this for a while now and they way he hurriedly accepted your offer was making you feel like a second choice. But why? You did want to meet him and he did say yes, so why in the mother’s name did this feel so…?

Trying to shake it off, you found a quiet spot to gather your thoughts. Doubts crept in, making you wonder if his abrupt exit meant something more. Left alone with unanswered questions, you thought about having a straightforward talk about where you stand in his life.

“Hey, you okay? What was that about?” Cassian’s tone was so gentle and inviting and it almost made you spill everything right there, but he already had his own issues and problems with Nesta so you didn’t want to burden him further.

"It was nothing. I, uh, I'll see you later, Cas." You hastily departed, your eyes stinging with impending tears.

————————————

He was late. Again. This had happened seceral times before and despite agreeing to see him tonight, his prolonged absence weighed on you. Feeling a bit pathetic, you rose from your armchair and slipped under the covers, opting for a deep, dreamless sleep.

————————————

As war flashbacks filled your mind, and a suffocating panic took hold in the middle of the night, leaving you sweating. You threw of your sheets, gasping as you made your way to door. Desperate, you rushed to find Azriel, your heart beating louder than the echoing footsteps in the quiet hallways. You hoped to find comfort, a break from your horrors, as you hurried along.

Turning a corner, the world shattered around you. Azriel and Elain stood in an embrace, lost in a kiss that felt like a thousand daggers piercing your chest. The air in your lungs disappeared , replaced by a crushing weight that threatened to swallow you whole. Time was lost as you grappled with the horrible realization that the sanctuary you sought was crumbling before your eyes.

Your Azriel wasn’t yours anymore.

Your Azriel wasn’t ever truly yours, a taunting voice spewed in your head

Quietly, your broken heart mirrored the shattered moonlight, pain etched into you, stranded in heartbreak's silent hallway where quiet screamed louder than war's echoes.

He had chosen to be with Elain even though he promised you he’d see you.

———————————

Your heart was in your throat as you went downstairs for breakfast. The memory of Azriel shoving his tounge down Elains throat was still so fresh and it made something in you ache.

The dining room buzzed with the voices of friends and family as you dropped into a chair between Feyre and Lucien, saving space for more seats in front of you. Glancing to the right from your plate, you noticed Lucien, as he cut into his eggs. Oddly, you hadn't known he was back, despite being good friends. Ever since he learned about his father, he'd been curious about your old home in the day court, where his father ruled. You two became fast friends, and you promised to take him on an exclusive trip there anytime he wanted.

“ Hey, Lucien. How was your trip and when did you come back, I didn’t hear you enter yesterday.”

Yeah because you probably cried yourself to sleep, maybe that’s why.

He flashed his charming smile, tilting his head with playful eyes. "Missed me, Y/n?" he teased, laughing as you playfully punched his arm. Only he would crack jokes so early in the morning.

Deciding to tease him back, you couldn't resist digging into the details of his trip to the continent. You never got tired of his adventures, loving how he narrated them with grace and humor, making you feel like you were right there with him.

"Yeah, so what if I missed you? I enjoy having you around, Luc. But seriously, spill. Did you take down any monsters? Save any damsels in distress?"

Lucien chuckled, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, I did fight off a swarm of overeager pigeons. Does that count as saving the day or just a triumph against feathery creatures?" he quipped, his laughter infectious.

You howled at the thought of a flock of birds surrounding your friend, pecking at him while he irritatingly tries to remove them.

The room fell silent as Azriel walked in with Elain, and your laughter faded.

A mix of hot and cold flashes hit you as you saw Elain wearing your sweater.

The sweater Azriel gave you a year ago—the one that meant a lot to you.

The one you had grown to love and was a reminder of what could be.

The one that cemented your feelings for him.

He gave it to Elain.

The one he was kissing last night.

The one he swapped you with and then got irritated when you tried to approach him.

The one who was mated to the seething male next to you.

The weight of everyone's stares bore down on you as Elain and Azriel took their seats in front of you and Lucien. Feyre and Cassian's eyes felt like lasers on the side of your head as you couldn't look away from your sweater now worn by Elain. Confusion gnawed at you – you'd tossed it into the laundry basket, yet there she was, flaunting it. The fact that Azriel didn't seem to care only added to the bewilderment, even when he knew what it meant to you. Irritation sparked in you as you got ready to chew him out, because who the hell wears something that doesn’t belong to them. And maybe Elain didn’t know but Azriel sure as hell did and you had enough of whatever bullshit this was. But before you were able to speak up, Feyre beat you to it.

“Elain, where did you get that sweater? I’m pretty sure it’s y/n’s.” Everyone looked back at Elain as red colored her cheeks, she meekly looked at you as she sputtered her explanation.

“ I hope it’s okay y/n, I didn’t know it was yours. I was in the laundry room with Azriel and I got… Well I, I um, got dirty, so he handed me this shirt and told me it was okay but I should’ve asked. Do you want it back?”

Numbness was all you could describe what you felt like. There was no way to miss the insinuation. They fucked and he gave her your sweater to wear after. And she didn’t even know it was yours, so you didn’t blame her. You found a new level of respect for Lucien, because you weren’t even mated to Azriel and you felt all this pain. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt.

Not having the energy for this you gave her a sweet smile and said something that made Azriel’s eyes stay on you the rest of the meal.

“No worries, Elain. The shirt means nothing to me. Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did on me, anyway.”

You casually picked up your fork, trying to eat away the tension that lingered in the air. Throughout the meal, Lucien remained tense next to you, his mate leaning against the shadowsinger, his arm around her. The gesture practically shouting that he didn't care about Elain's mate sitting across from him, much to Rhysand's dismay.

"Lucien, I'm full. Do you want to accompany me to town? There are a few things I need to get, and I could use some help carrying them." You extended your hand, and he took it, ever the gentleman, placing it so you held onto his arm with a smile.

————————————

Reaching the pathway to the town square, the open nature felt like a breath of fresh air. Despite you and Lucien being able to winnow, a walk through the cold December morning seemed necessary to clear your head. Glancing at Lucien, you sensed a shared need for clarity. Unable to contain it any longer, you decided to spill everything, the weight of unspoken words demanding release.

“I’ll be honest, I suspected something along those lines. I mean you weren’t being subtle about it. But the sweater threw me off.”

“Oh, I suppose our subtlety is not relevant anymore. Lucien, I just want you to know how much I appreciate you and hold you in high regard. Feel free to share anything; I'm here to listen. I can't even fathom how hard it must be when you're mated.”

His sad laughter echoed, tugging at your heartstrings, confirming that it wasn't an easy situation. As he opened up, every word he shared made perfect sense, resonating with what you were feeling.

After wandering around The Rainbow, sipping hot chocolates, and sharing your thoughts, you headed home. However, upon your return to The House, you were greeted by a pacing and visibly upset Azriel. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at Lucien who looked just as confused as you. Azriels pacing came to a halt as he quickly made his way over to you.

“ Where have you been? I looked for you everywhere. Why where you out with him?” Hot fury coarsed through your veins as you snapped at his tone. Just who the hell did he think he was?

“Where I am and who I'm with isn't your concern. Now excuse me, I'm going to my room. Lucien, I'll see you around. Thank you for your help.” You stood on your toes, giving Lucien a kiss on the cheek, and then briskly walked to your room, leaving Azriel with his thoughts. Though he certainly didn’t think very long as his footsteps inched closer behind you.

Azriel stood before you with a tense expression. “Why were you with Lucien?” he demanded, his eyes searching for answers.

As much as you missed him and ached for him, there wasn’t a single planet where you’d let him disrespect you and then demand answers like some jealous boyfriend. Anger took over as you stood tall and laid everything for him.

“Listen, I don’t know what you think you’re doing but you can’t talk to me like that. Lucien is a good male, you should know, your fucking his mate and he hasn’t murdered you yet.”

His face was back to it’s neutral state, the state of the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court. He stepped closer, jaw tight as he spewed words that made your blood boil.

“I don’t want to see you around Lucien again. I don’t care that you’re friends because it looks like you want to fuck him. You belong to me and I don’t share.”

The possessiveness normally would’ve turned you on as it once did when a male tried to hit on you a few months ago. But this just made you want to punch him clean across his face.

“Azriel, I’m not sure you’re hearing me. I may see whoever I want because you’re not my father or mate or anything. And I’m not a thing, I do not belong to you so I will do whatever pleases me.” You stepped closer, interrupting whatever he was about to say.

“Unless you’re actually disturbed, then you’re capable of understanding that you’ve chosen Elain, you’ve neglected me and have chosen her. I don’t blame you, the heart wants what it wants. But atleast grow a pair and say it to my fucking face. How dare you come to me and demand I stop seeing my friend?”

“ Y/n, let me just-”

“ No, i’m saying what I’m going to say then me and you never have to talk unless it’s absolutely necessary.” The last bit of anger you had, fired up the question you had been asking yourself for a while.

“Why did you give her my sweater when you said you’d never give it to anyone. Why would you ever give her what’s mine? From my laundry basket? Are you truly heartless or just plain stupid? And why do you care about what im doing? You’ve made it clear we’re over.” You swallowed back your tears, determination winning over the burning behind your eyes, no fucking way would you cry in front of him.

His words devoid of any sense of emotion rattled you. He ignored everything you said as he gave his stupid answer.

“First of all, it’s just polyester. You’re acting like a child over a shirt. And you’re my mate, so I think I get some say in who you see.” As if his words triggered something, an obnoxious golden thread snapped itse in your chest. The weight of it heavy with sadness and betrayal.

He looked bored and uninterested as he stared you down. “I’ve always wanted a mated and when you first arrived, the bond snapped into place, hence why I fucked you for over a year. And I almost told you about it but then Elain came along and I realized I love her more than I want a mate. You know, The Mother is cruel, she should’ve just made me and her mates so we could’ve skipped this ugly little moment. Oh well-”

A grunt escapes as he staggered back from your punch. That arrogant, hypocritical piece of shit knew you were his mate, he knew it every single time he bedded you, he knew it when you cried and laughed, he knew it when you told him how much you wanted one.

He knew and he didn’t care.

A whirlwind of emotions hit you as the bond intensified. A headache crept in as you turned away and left in silence, your head filling with questions.

How could you face him without the urge to punch again? Did Elain know all this? Did anyone? How could you stay here without wanting to kill him? And why was your face wet?

You halted, a trembling hand reaching for your face. Tears flowed, and a humorless, empty laugh escaped you. You hurried back to your room, sobs breaking through. Collapsing onto the bed, waves of sadness, heartbreak, and betrayal overwhelmed you.

————————————

You stayed in your room, wallowing in self-pity for the next few days without eating or seeing anyone. The House put several plates of food on the table next to you but you just felt nauseous. Your friends had reached out and tried to talk to you only to be met with your silence, it speaking loud enough for them to understand you didn’t want to see anyone.

A knock made you snap your head up as the person persisted. Irritation sparked in you as the knocks kept up. Letting out a sound of annoyance you got up, letting your legs get adjusted from the days of not using them, before strutting over and throwing the door open only to be met with by Cassian and Feyre.

“ Oh, what are you doing here, I think I’ve made myself very clear. I’m really not inte the mood for this.” You sensed an intervention and there couldn’t possibly be a worse time. They ignored you, much to your dismay, and just stepped in and plopped down on one of the plush sofas that decorated your room.

“ Y/n, we haven’t seen you for almost a week. I’ve accepted you don’t want to see anyone but i’m starting to get really worried. Please know that whatever’s burdening you doesn’t have to weigh on your shoulders alone. We’re here for you and if you don’t want to talk to us then maybe Azriel? I know you like each other and have some connection.” Your stomach dropped when she mentioned his name.

"No, absolutely not Azriel. I never want to see that lying son of a bitch ever." They appeared alarmed and confused since you always spoke highly of him. Feyre and Cassian were the only ones aware of the true nature of your relationship with him. They had supported you, and were the only ones shocked about the sweater Elain wore, knowing its significance to you.

"What do you mean? What did he do?" They rose to give you a hug, noticing your eyes glossing over. Sitting on either side of you, they held you as you poured out the details. In the safety of your friends’ embrace, you told the painful details of Azriel's betrayal. The room echoed with the weight of your emotions as they listened, offering comfort and understanding.

"I feel so stupid. I know he's my mate, but I still feel betrayed. He made it clear we were just sleeping together, but there were so many mixed signals, and I just... I don't know. I have no anger left; I honestly don't care anymore. And I know it's not Elain's fault because she doesn't know we're mates, but I'm afraid I'll hurt her if I see her near Azriel. Gods, I really admire Lucien. I wonder how he's gone this long without breaking down." You shook your head as you looked to them. Their expression was laced with sadness and anger towards the spymaster.

“ I’ll kick his ass today at training, I’m so sorry honey.” Cassian was filled with conflict and anger at his dear friend being put through this. And Feyre didn’t look better as she glared at the door as if Azriel might suddenly appear. They were finally both mated and could imagine the pain of their mate doing something like this.

“ Y/n, do you want to come with me and stay at the River House? Maybe some time away from him will do you good. Lucien is also staying there and he has been down lately too. I’ve talked to him and your situations are very similar. Maybe you should talk to him.” Feyre held your hand, her voice gentle as she gave you a smile when you nodded, accepting the offer.

Cassian walked over to your closet and packed you a bag of clothes while Feyre led you to your vanity and brushed through your hair. She pulled it into one of the simpler styles you usually went for. You went onto the bathroom and took a quick shower. Cassian knocked softly and handed you a change of clothes. You felt an overwhelming gratitude for your friends caring nature as tears welled up in your eyes. They approached with laughter, and it sparked a genuine smile from you. Gods, you loved your friends.

—————————

Azriel flew back to The House after spending the day with Elain and dropping her off outside the River House. Though he loved Elain, she hadn’t reciprocated his feelings and it grated his nerves. He threw away a perfectly good mate. She should be loving him back too. As he entered The House, the unusual silence struck him. Cassian and Nesta’s typical noise was absent, and the absence of any sound from you heightened his worry. Azriel anxiously opened doors and searched every corner, looking for any sign of anyone.

He remembered that it was Sunday, the day of their usual family dinner. He let out a sigh of relief and changed before flying to the estate.

————————————

Your wineglass paused mid-air as Azriel walked in, placing a kiss on Elain's shoulder. She glanced at Lucien, subtly distancing herself. Despite her evident discomfort, Azriel nonchalantly put his arm around her. You felt bad for Elain. Maybe she wasn’t feeling Azriel anymore but didn’t have the heart to tell him.

A snarl ripped you from your thoughts as Lucien stood up looking murderous. Elain looked up at him with a hint of relief as Azriel simply pulled her closer and stared at him, face unreadable.

“Get your arm off her before I kill you.” Luciens voice came out gritted and you instinctively moved away a bit, not daring to get too close to the seething male witnessing his mate feel uncomfortable. Lucien was a levelheaded male and it took a lot for him to get really angry, so anyone with half a brain knew not to tread to closely. Rhysand next to him, stood up aswell, sensing that there probably would be a fight, ready to intervene.

“You’re going to kill me? I’d like to see you try.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say because Elain frowned and pushed his arm away, making her way over to Lucien, calming him down by grabbing his hand shyly. He still held eye contact with Azriel, slightly smiling as Azriel grew angry.

“Don’t lay your hands on her again. If i ever see you making her uncomfortable, I’ll hang you with your own insides.” Elain looked at him with wide eyes and dragged him further down the table.

“Okay, what the actual fuck? What is going on and why are you looking at y/n like that?” Rhysand’s voice broke whatever trance was going on. Your interest peaked as your eyes slid over to Azriel’s only to find them filled with his usual boredom mixed with anger.

You let out a laugh, not being able to stop as you thought about how ridiculous he was being.

“ Well, let’s see. Azriel is my mate and he kept it hidden from me since the day I met him. Oh, and we fucked around for a year or so before he became a dick and started ignoring me, stopped coming to our planned meetings and I finally understood it was because of Elain. But I don’t blame her, I blame him. Hmm… what else? Right! He knew about us being mated and wished he was mated to her instead, and look how that turned out. The one you left me for doesn’t even want you anymore Azriel, how does that make you feel, mate?”

You bit out the last words with poison as you gave him a half smirk. Elain approached you, as everyone soaked up the information. She held your hands in her shaking ones and looked at you with a pained expression.

“ Y/n, please believe me, I didn’t know you two were seeing each other, let alone were mates. He told me you were just friends and nothing more. Had I known, I wouldn’t have ever been with him. And if i’m honest I thought i wanted to be with him, but I want to get to know my mate.” Before she could ramble on you pulled her into a hug, feeling bad for her. She hadn’t know and still apologized.

“Elain, I assure you, I don't hold any blame towards you. I'm happy you want to get to know Lucien. Trust me, he's genuinely funny and nice when he's not being a sarcastic ass.” Laughter filled the air as you and Elain shared a moment, lightening the mood.

You let her go as she got closer to Lucien. No matter how much you wanted to seek your mate out for comfort, you couldn’t let it happen. You knew there was only one thing left.

“ Azriel, I reject the bond. I don’t know how I can ever be with you after this. Not only did you lie to me, you lied to everyone. I’m never going to trust you completely and I think we need to work on ourselves. But it won’t be with each other.” With that you turned on your heel and left for your room, leaving behind a shattered bond and pleading a mate.

———————————————

Azriel's three-month-long begging for a second chance haunted you, likely triggered by witnessing Elain and Lucien's kiss in the courtyard. While you were happy for them, a lingering sadness stayed you, realizing you would never experience a shared bond. Azriel had robbed you of the beauty of a mating bond, and forgiveness felt out of the question. Suffocated by him, you made your way to Feyre and Rhysand's office, ready to ask the dreaded question that had lingered within you for a while.

“ Come in!” Feyre’s gentle voice probed you to open the door as you slithered in. They both looked at you with caution. After breaking the bond, you had been bedridden for three weeks. The physical and mental toll it took on you was overwhelming and some days you questioned your decision. But then you remembered what led you here and just powered through.

“ Guys, I promise I feel much better, so please no more mother-henning. Especially you Rhys.” Feyre let out an amused giggle as Rhys just narrowed his eyes in mock irritation. The weight of what you had to say hung heavy on your shoulders, but you knew they'd support you. Opting for honesty, you decided to rip off the bandaid.

“ I want to move back to the Day Court. I love it here but I miss my home, my siblings, my parents, my friends. I wasn’t supposed to stay this long and even though I love velaris, I can’t live here so close to… him. Not only that but I’ve been sending letters to Helion and he is very eager to meet Lucien and has asked me to check if he wants to come.” You decided to drop the last bomb, asking them for a huge favor.

“I also wanted to see if you could erase my memories of Azriel. Not everything, just the whole fiasco. I genuinely want to move on, and I feel like I won't be able to if I keep dwelling on it. Believe me, I've tried to avoid him and the situation for the past months, but the thoughts still linger.”

They were silent for a moment, likely speaking to each other through their mind. You met their saddened eyes as they nodded.

“I'm sorry you feel this way, Y/n. I genuinely wanted you to feel at home here, but of course we won't force you to stay. We'll erase the memories, but only if you promise to visit someday. Perhaps even let us come to you? I've heard the Day Court's sun is not to be played with, almost rivaling the Summer Court.” You giggled and nodded at Rhysand's words, tears streaming down your face – a mix of happiness and sadness. Overwhelmed with emotions, you embraced them as they gave you a big hug, one of the last you realized.

————————————

You surveyed your now empty room, memories of passionate moments and heartfelt kisses with Azriel lingering in the air. It felt like a distant past, a different life, a different version of you. Shouldering your bag, you descended the stairs. Rhysand had winnowed all your belongings back to your old quarters in Helion's palace. Lucien and Elain, already packed, awaited you at the breakfast table. It was time to share one last meal as residents of this house.

After announcing the news, Lucien and Elain asked if they could join you, insisting on the top-class tour of the court you had promised him. Delighted, you agreed, more than happy to bring your friends along as you all headed back home.

The table was filled with your friends as you shared one last meal, Azriel's seat empty as he was out on a mission. Unable to face him in fear of lingering emotions, you insisted on leaving while he was away.

Feyre stood at the head of the table, a mix of emotions visible in her eyes. She cleared her throat, capturing everyone's attention.

“Today marks the beginning of a new chapter for Y/n, Lucien, and Elain. Though farewells are always bittersweet, we must embrace change and growth. Y/n, you've been a cherished member of our court and a life-long friend, and while your path diverges, our bonds remain unbroken. Never forget that you will always have a home here.”

She smiled warmly, addressing each one individually, “Lucien, my first and dear fae friend, Elain, my kind older sister, your presence has brought joy to our home. The Day Court awaits, and I have no doubt that your light will shine brightly there.”

She raised her glass, “To new beginnings, may your paths be lit by the stars that connect us all. Safe travels, my friends.”

The room echoed with the clinking of glasses, a heartfelt farewell lingering in the air.

————————————

After tearful goodbyes, Feyre and Rhysand exchanged a glance, understanding the weight of your request. Pulling you aside, Feyre spoke softly, “Are you ready for this?"

You nodded, feeling Rhysand place a gentle hand on your forehead as Feyre held the back of your head. Together, they wove their magic, erasing the memories of Azriel and the pain attached to them. As the magic settled, you blinked, a new easiness in your eyes.

Rhys offered a reassuring smile, “May this bring you peace on your journey, Y/n.” You gave them a final hug, walking back to Lucien and Elain and winnowed back to your home.

—————

TWO YEARS LATER

At Helion's annual grand ball, you moved through the crowd, the vibrant atmosphere alive with laughter and music. You glanced around as you spotted your friends.

Approaching your dear friends, you hugged and greeted all of your friends, updating them about your life as you heared the uptade of theirs. Then, unexpectedly, you found yourself face to face with Azriel. His expression revealed a mix of confusion and curiosity. This was the first time you had met him simce you moved. Your friends told you that he was often gone on long missions, only staying briefly to report to Feyre and Rhysand before heading back out. Unbeknownst to you, your friends had slowly decreased their conversations and meetings with Azriel and he was now more of an employee than a friend. They loved both of you but there was no way to just let him back in as a dear friend after what he did.

“Hi, Azriel. It’s been a while. How’s everything going?”

He nodded, "Indeed. I must admit, I'm surprised to see you here."

You chuckled, “Really? I mean it is my home after all. Why is it shocking?”

Azriel furrowed his brows, "I thought... after everything, you hated me."

Your eyes widened in confusion, “Hate? I don’t know what you mean, Azriel. Why would I hate you? You’re a dear friend of mine.”

Realization dawned in Azriel's eyes, “Your memories...” But before he could continue, Rhysand pulled him away.

Azriel's realization hit him hard. The weight of the moment pressed upon him, and he felt a deep sense of remorse. Seeing you free from the memories, both good and bad, brought a profound ache.

He swallowed hard, the truth settling heavily in his chest. He had caused so much pain that you chose to erase him from your mind. A sickness crept over him, the regret of his actions piercing through as he watched you move through the ball, blissfully unaware of the history you once shared. Surrounded by the festive atmosphere, he felt a deep loss and the haunting echo of an irreversible mistake.

You looked happier and healthier than you had ever been. Deciding to not disturb the peace you created, he simply disappeared into his shadows, seeking out their comfort as he always had.

610 notes · View notes

ihni · 3 months

Text

The sound of the doorbell is what wakes him. The morning sun is shining in through the window, hitting the messy curls on the pillow next to him and making them shine like gold. The sight makes him smile, and his first instinct is to reach over and brush the curls away from his boyfriend’s face. There’s nothing better than getting to watch him wake up, after all; watch those blue eyes flutter open and squint against the light.

The doorbell rings again before he can act on his urge, though. It is followed by loud knocking, which rouses the body next to Steve; unfortunately in a less peaceful way than Steve had imagined. Billy’s eyes shoot open and he tenses as he immediately takes in where he is, and with who. Wide, blue eyes meet Steve’s.

“Shit!” he says and is halfway out of bed before Steve can even react, pulling a shirt – Steve’s, not that it matters – over his head. “It’s Neil!”

Steve has just opened his mouth to protest, say that it’s not – it can’t be, Neil doesn’t know about them – when there’s a knock again, and an angry man’s voice drifts up from outside.

And it is indeed Neil’s voice.

Shit.

Steve jumps out of bed too and nabs for the other shirt that’s been discarded on the floor – but no, no, he can’t show up at the door wearing Billy’s shirt, he can’t, so he drops it again before hurrying to his closet. He pulls on an old T-shirt, and then whirls around and grabs Billy’s face between his hands. Billy’s face, which has gone ashen with fear.

“Stay here,” Steve says. “I’ll get rid of him. It’ll be okay.”

He turns and walks out of the room, squaring his shoulders as he goes. In his periphery, he sees Heather’s head peek out of the guest room that she and Robin stumbled into late last night while blushing and giggling, but he ignores her as he makes his way to the stairs.

The knocking and shouting continues, sending equal measures of anger and fear down Steve’s spine. How did the man know to come here? Billy said he’d told him that he was going to a party last night; said that he wasn’t even given a curfew. The man would have had no reason to suspect that the party was in fact a very private affair at Steve’s place, with just him and Billy and Robin and Heather – a safe place, as all of them knew about each other’s preferences by now – and definitely would have had no reason to show up on Steve’s doorstep this early in the morning. As far as Steve knows, Billy’s dad doesn’t even know Steve by name, and shouldn’t know where he lives.

He’s halfway down the stairs when a hand grasps his arm.

“Don’t,” Billy says, voice shaking. Steve turns – he’s standing a step below Billy, so he has to look up to face him – and sees that Billy’s shaking his head. “Don’t open the door.”

He’s scared, Steve realizes. Really scared.

From outside the door, they can now make out Neil’s angry words between the bouts of knocking. “I know he’s in there! Open the door. William!”

Billy is just standing there, still holding on to Steve’s arm. His eyes are big and pleading. He’s obviously terrified, and it feels so wrong. No one who has fought monsters with the same fervor as Billy should ever have to be scared of a mere human.

A calm settles over Steve, followed by resolve. He gently extricates himself from Billy’s grip – ignoring the way Billy trembles – and says, “Don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt you again.”

He continues down the stairs, but Billy shoulders past him and blocks his way. Puts both hands on Steve’s chest and pushes. “I don’t care if he hurts me,” he hisses. “But he’s dangerous.” The man yells some threats from the other side of the door and knocks again. Rattles the door handle for emphasis, this time. Billy flinches and looks over his shoulder before continuing, “I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“He’s not going to hurt me,” Steve says. He doesn’t know that for sure, but he can’t imagine it. This is his house, or, well, his parents’. Neil is the one who’s trespassing. And Steve knows the Chief of Police.

He walks past his boyfriend and crosses the hall. A hand lands on his shoulder again. Not forcing him to stop or trying to hold him back; just there. Imploring.

“Please,” Billy begs, and it pierces Steve’s heart like a knife because Billy doesn’t beg.

Billy, acting like this, is not right. The man on the other side of the door has brought Billy too much pain already. This has to end. And that end starts now. By getting rid of the immediate threat.

They’ll figure out the rest later.

Steve walks on. Stops in front of the door and only then realizes that Billy’s standing there with him, still with a hand on his shoulder. He’s watching Steve with big, wet eyes and shaking his head silently. Don’t do this, he doesn’t say out loud. Please, just ignore him.

But Steve can’t. Not this time. Not when the man is ranting on his doorstep on a Saturday morning, threatening to break in. Not when Billy’s standing here next to Steve, shaking with terror.

Billy is not getting hurt by that man in Steve’s house. If Neil tries to set one foot inside, Steve will kill him.

Steve reaches for the door, and with his other hand, he pushes Billy up against the wall just inside the door. Close enough to touch, but out of sight of his irate father. He can feel Billy’s heart beat frantically under his hand, and silently vows that this is the last time. This is the last time Billy is afraid.

He breathes in deeply and takes a second to slip into spoiled rich-boy mode. Then he opens the door.

“What?” he drawls, unimpressed. He gives the man outside a contemptuous look. The man draws himself up to say something, but Steve doesn’t let him speak. “Do you know what time it is? It’s Saturday, man. Some people are trying to sleep.”

Neil Hargrove is proper; not a hair out of place. It’s the first thing Steve thinks as he sees him up close – he has seen the man from a distance at times and listened in on the occasional phone call between him and Billy, but Billy has never let Steve even get close to the house on Cherry Lane when he knows that his dad is home.

The man is of average build and doesn’t look particularly dangerous from an outsider’s point of view, but there’s something cold in his eyes that sends shivers of fear down Steve’s spine when he’s pinned under Neil’s gaze. He doesn’t let his discomfort show, though; just lets the man take in Steve’s appearance fully – his messy hair, the way he’s just wearing a shirt and underwear, and how he’s obviously just got out of bed – and waits for him to speak.

“I know he’s here,” Neil growls – actually growls, like an animal. Steve sees movement out of the corner of his eye but doesn’t dare glance to where Billy’s huddling up against the wall. Instead he leans against the side of the door, placing himself more firmly between Billy and his dad.

He has seen the bruises on Billy’s skin and he has hated that he has to let Billy go back to that house time and again, but this is the first time he truly sees what Billy faces at home. He thinks, idly, that he won’t be able to let Billy go back there again.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, and tries to make it sound as if he thinks the man isn’t all there in the head. By the way Neil’s face turns darker, he succeeds.

“My son, William. I know he’s here.”

“William,” Steve deadpans, as if it’s a word he has never uttered before. He raises one eyebrow. “Look, there’s no William here, man. You’ve got the wrong address. Go yell at someone else’s door. Or don’t, I don’t care. Just go away.”

He starts to close the door, but Neil’s hand shoots out and stops him. He doesn’t move to go inside, but he’s holding the door without letting it close, and staring at Steve with narrowed eyes. A challenge. A threat.

“I’m not leaving without my son.”

So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?

Steve draws himself up and narrows his own eyes as he stares back. He manages to dial back on the disgust, but some of it must shine through because he can feel himself sneering. “Who are you again?” he asks. Flippantly.

“My name is Neil Hargrove,” Neil says, pronouncing every syllable with obvious annoyance. Good. “And my son, William –“

“You mean Billy?” Steve says, letting surprise color his voice. “You’re Billy’s dad?” He doesn’t let the man answer, instead he lets out an incredulous laugh. “You think Billy is here?”

“His car is parked down the road,” Neil seethes, and oh. “You’re on the basketball team with him. And I know what he’s like. He’s a dirty little faggot who –“

Steve lets his face shut down. Slips on the mask that he has seen on his parent’s faces on many occasions during boring parties and work functions. The ‘do you know who I am’ persona. His voice is ice cold when he speaks.

“I’m not sure what you are insinuating, Mr. Hargrove, but if I were you, I’d stop talking.” Something like uncertainty flickers in Neil’s eyes. Steve drinks it in. “I don’t know if you know my parents –“ He nods to the brass plaque next to the door with ‘Harrington’ etched into it “– but I’m sure they won’t be too impressed when they hear that some lunatic showed up at their door on a Saturday morning, accusing their only son of being …” He holds Neil’s eye. Can’t – won’t – say the word the man used, not with Billy behind the door. “… a deviant.”

Disgust is dripping from his voice – disgust over this sorry excuse for a human, disgust over the fact that he has to deal with this at all – but that lends him credibility in this particular instance. He sounds just like an offended rich boy. An offended rich boy with influence.

As if on cue – which it most likely is, since Steve suspects that the girls have been listening in for some time now – there are soft steps behind him on the stairs, and Robin’s voice drifts out from behind him, “Steve? What’s going on?”

He lets the door open just a little bit wider under the guise of turning around, allowing Neil Hargrove to see Robin. Robin, whose hair is also sleep-mussed, and who is wearing an oversized button-up shirt. It’s not Steve’s – she must have taken it from his dad’s closet – but Neil doesn’t know that. She paints a perfect picture of a confused girlfriend who just woke up to the sounds of yelling, and Steve is so grateful that he’s friends with her.

“Nothing, baby,” he says, softening his voice. “Go back to bed.”

Robin hesitates with one more look at Neil. Licks her lips, as if she’s worried. “Should I … call someone? The police, or …?”

Perfect. Thank you for the assist, Robin.

“No, there’s no need to bother Jim this early in the morning,” Steve says, making sure to use Hopper’s first name, and turns back to face Neil. Neil, whose face has paled. Who has possibly started to realize that he may have messed up. Steve gives him a stiff smile and lets his voice go cold again as he continues, “Mr. Hargrove here was just leaving. Isn’t that right, Mr. Hargrove?”

Too proud or too angry to say it out loud, the man just gives a jerky nod and steps back. Steve will take it, as long as he leaves.

Starting to close the door again, Steve sneaks one glance at Billy’s pale face an arms-length away, and adds, in a sudden bout of inspiration.

“Oh, and if you’re looking for Billy in Loch Nora –“ He gives Neil, who’s half-turned to leave, a slow once-over, showing just enough disdain to make it clear that someone like Neil Hargrove doesn’t belong in this part of town, “– then I suggest you try the Holloways next. I think I saw him with their daughter Heather at the party last night.” He gives a sardonic little smile at the way Neil Hargrove’s face shutters. Everyone’s heard of the Holloways, just as everyone’s heard of the Harringtons. “I’m sure Tom and Janet will appreciate being disturbed on a Saturday morning just as much as I have. Who knows, it might get you a mention in the Post.”

With that, he shuts the door in Neil Hargrove’s face and locks it, and turns to his wide-eyed boyfriend. Who hasn’t moved from his space behind the door.

He ignores both Robin running out into the kitchen on silent feet – probably to make sure that Neil Hargrove actually leaves – and Heather coming downstairs, in favor of putting his hands on the sides of Billy’s face and lean in so their foreheads are touching. Billy is shivering and his breaths are uneven, but he reaches up and grabs at Steve’s wrist and the back of his head with something akin to desperation.

“I can’t believe you,” he whispers. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you,” Steve says, and is rewarded with a shaky little laugh.

“Shit,” Billy breathes. “I was so scared, Steve. I thought he was gonna –”

“But he didn’t.”

They stand there for a little while, just looking at each other. Holding each other and breathing each other’s air. Gradually, Billy’s tremors subside. His heart rate slows.

Eventually, Robin comes back into the hall and announces, “He’s gone. Got in his car and left.” She adds, pointedly, “Didn’t look like he was heading for the Holloways’, either.”

Steve looks at her and then drifts his eyes over to Heather, who’s sitting on the second to last step on the stairs, looking at them with one eyebrow raised. He winces. “Yeah … uh, sorry about that, I guess. I should have asked first.”

“You should,” Heather agrees. “But you didn’t, which means that you owe me one.” She looks between Steve and Billy and says, “I would have agreed if you’d asked, but you know. You still owe me.”

Steve laughs. Heather turns to Billy and points one well-manicured finger at him. “So I guess we’re dating now, you and I. I hope you know that I expect to be wooed.”

After Billy gives her a little salute, she nods and turns to Robin. Smiles lewdly as she takes in her appearance in the oversized shirt. “You look good in that,” she says, biting her lip. “Let’s see what other fun clothes we can find in that closet.”

The girls disappear up the stairs, giggling. Steve has a suspicion that his parents’ closet are going to be in complete disarray soon, but can’t bring himself to care. It’s a small price to pay.

“Do you want to go back to bed, too?” Steve asks, and belatedly realizes what it sounds like. “To sleep some more, I mean!” he adds. Because a Neil Hargrove scare first thing in the morning is probably not exactly a turn-on. “Or do you want breakfast? I can make breakfast. We have –“

“I want to go back to bed,” Billy says, thankfully cutting off the rambling.

“Okay,” Steve says and reaches out for his hand. When Billy’s hand slots into his, is it perfectly steady. No more tremors. “Okay, let’s do that.”

But Billy shakes his head. “I don’t wanna sleep, though.”

“… no?”

Billy’s looking at him through his lashes – his ridiculously long lashes, which he knows is Steve’s Kryptonite – and gives a small smile.

“Not gonna lie, babe. That was a terrifying experience. But …” He takes a step closer, brushes the lightest of kisses against Steve’s lip before leaning in and whispering in his ear, “… the way you shut him down like that, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Then he abruptly turns and sashays away, but not before giving Steve’s butt a quick squeeze as he passes.

He stops at the bottom of the stairs with one hand on the bannister, and looks over his shoulder all seductively. “You coming?”

Oh, Steve is coming, all right.

He chases Billy up the stairs. (And this time, when he catches him, he’ll hold onto him and never let him go back to that house again.)

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #buckleway #heather holloway #robin buckley #stranger things #harringrove fic #ihni writes #got this scenario stuck in my head and had to write it down #wrote it over the course of a few hours #:)

310 notes · View notes

travelling-my-little-pony · 2 years

Photo

Morning Glory admires the heather flowers.

On Dartmoor, in Devon, England.

#My Little Pony #g1 #flutter pony #morning glory #heather #dartmoor #devon #england

11 notes · View notes

undercoverpena · 2 months

Text

3. heather purple

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter three of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.8k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] meet cute, flirting. fluff. flirting in person and over IG. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used, you do wear a top and jeans tho. minor worrying/nervousness. no use of y/n. an: i love them i love them i love them

prev chapter | frankie's ig

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

Nervous energy pulsates through you.

It first manifested as a rattle, an annoyance when your eyes opened this morning. Now, it had grown into moving things half an inch and constant tapping—on surfaces, on you, on walls. All restless, practically relentless—vibrating and thrumming.

Then, your teeth began lazily, grazing over your lower lip, eyes flicking to the clock—fingers adjusting your laptop on the counter for what feels like the tenth time in as many minutes.

With a catch of your thumb, your phone illuminates, another nervous-tic, another thing you've been doing for the last so many moments.

Even if you know he’s on his way, having told you as much.

Normally, you would find it easy to calm yourself through pacing, the flexing of your fingers, and deep, soothing breaths. But not this time.

This time, it lingers. A persistent knot in your stomach that refuses to unravel and instead attempts to bathe in giddiness—a sensation you’d never imagined, never mind expected.

Suddenly, with another fluttering jolt, you wish you could backtrack the messages you had sent. The ones that had invited him—jovially, before seriously.

Because despite spending several minutes leaning on your cool, kitchen counter, with a glass of water pressed to your neck, warmth is still radiating from your skin.

The thinnest layer of sweat still remains on the base of your spine, sticking; the same as it is around your head—no matter how often you dab it away.

Admittedly, it’s all self-inflicted. Caused by the fact you had tried on a thousand things within the last half an hour. All of the failures were discarded, shoved (all unceremoniously), at the bottom of your closet, the door shoved shut in frustration.

Nothing had felt right. Nothing had looked right.

A mess of worries and overthinking churning in your head, all caused by your friend's echoing voice as you stared at yourself in the mirror:

Do you think he’ll size up your new office and then size you up? Do you think this is a date? Do you think he’s expecting to see your bedroom? Because if you count the coffee, this is the third, which means—

At the time, it had been easy to laugh. Play it down—continue to wash your dishes and clean around the sink.

But, it’s when the goodbyes had been exchanged; when there were no more cups or plates to clean, and you found yourself alone with nothing but the sounds of suds swirling down the drain. That's when your mind began to wander. To weave patterns of concerns, begin concocting.

Do you think…Do you think?

Do you think?

Deep down, you know it doesn't matter. Less so as your hand brushes over your face, heavy sigh exhaled, because he'd be here soon.

In your home.

Frankie would be able to see the poor state of your “remodel” or “flip” or whatever term it is for when you buy a rundown thing and try and make it liveable. He'd be able to see exactly why you'd looked lost in the hardware store he works, because look at your home. The place where you rest, sleep and work.

You could come and see it for yourself, wouldn’t need to keep guessing what I’m dreaming up. Yeah? You sure? Well, it would be easier than me trying to explain the issues I’m faced with because until an hour ago I didn’t know what a wrench was called. What did you use to call it? Tightening-tighty. Fitting name. I thought so too—until your latest “helpful” video ruined it. At least you’re learning now how selfish I am. You are, but I’ll forgive you because you have a nice smile. Is the smile enough to upgrade me from DMs to a phone number? Oh, you are pushing it. Well, to keep on pushing and this is presumptuous, but I can come round tomorrow. After I’ve finished up at work. Luca is back with his mom. Yeah? Send me your address and I’ll be there, rainy. I’ll send you my number too, so you can call when you leave.

And you had.

Then, tomorrow had become today, and you’d found yourself trying to flood the worries from your half-a-job redecorating with cleaning.

Some of it alleviated by decluttering half-empty boxes from around the base of pale walls, but part of it added more issues to your plate because suddenly you wished you had more plants. More colour.

More anything.

Because it’s bare, a barren of nothing. There are marks on the floor not lifted from scrubbing and cracks in the wall that need filling.

Disappointment lands on your shoulders, weighed down with pinched regret—because you realise (once again, having lived in blissful ignorance) that there is so much to do.

Swallowing, you glance around, scents of wood polish and floor spray swirling. You glare at the many holes filled in by the previous owners. The ones not painted over just yet.

Because you hadn’t decided on a shade—no colour scheme having jumped out.

The place is all just pale, off-white or faded magnolia.

"Fuck."

The urge to crawl into a ball rises, a sickening feeling swirling.

Somehow, if the state of your home doesn’t scare him away, a small part of you knows it can find comfort that maybe your humour is enough to keep him around.

A thought that should relax you, but instead makes your stomach twist more. Because you're not actually sure you're that funny. A realisation that forces your palms to become tacky, the thinnest layer of sweat trying to appear there, as well as everywhere else.

Because you like him.

The knowledge of it pricking at you, making you bite the skin from your lip and pick at your nails; it makes you wiggle your toes inside your socks on the wooden floor and fight a smile at something funny he’d said last night.

And then you hear it.

Wheels. Tyres crunch gravel as a black pick-up pulls up outside your home. One you remember from outside the store, from parking several blocks down from yours.

He’s here.

He’s here. He’s here. He’s fucking here—

The thought rotating, spinning—like a whirlpool drenching you in more sweat and making your head dizzy all at once.

You can’t move, can’t unstick yourself from the floorboard you’re on. Watching. Transfixed. Both feeling joy that he has come (as he said he would) and filled with horror because it’s happening, it’s all fucking happening.

With each step he takes up your drive, you want to bolt from your place and hide in your bedroom. Pretend you’re not home. Pretend something came up.

But you can’t lie.

Guilt swallowing that immediate thought. Watching him get closer and closer, until his knuckles wrap on the door, the noise filling your barely-filled home.

Fuck.

You manage to move then. All quiet steps. Delicate in how you cross the room that’s become a poor attempt at a living room.

Wrapping your palm around the handle, you’re surprised at its sudden heaviness—all cold, so cool against your skin it almost makes you hiss. Almost slipping when you turn it, palm so slick with nervousness as your arm tries to vibrate in its socket.

Opening the door, you disguise it. Layer all your worries and unravelling under a mask. Smothering and burying it in a smile—practically instantaneously. As though it’s the easiest thing to do around him.

But then, it is.

Because even if the rest of your body is having some reaction to the idea he could be stepping inside, you find yourself unable to help but grin. Not able to help lighting up like fairy lights hanging in the darkest night.

And, in the milliseconds of the two of you standing there, you actually begin to feel better.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” you reply, grin growing, forcing your cheeks to hurt in a matter of beats.

And you know you should move, let him in. But, what does it mean if you do? That voice, the one growing louder, who speaks nothing but worse cases and negativity, begins to increase in pitch. Smothering the sound of birds and someone cutting their grass several houses down.

Because is he here to measure up, to give recommendations—or will he kiss you again like he did against your car? Will his mouth move to other places, hands busying themselves, peeling? Will he be disappointed by what lies underneath your comfortable t-shirt and—

“You gonna invite me in?”

Pausing, you lower your gaze to the floor, leaning against the door for a moment. Eyes catching spots of purple on his jeans, finding yourself staring, glancing at how they resemble petals scattered in a careless dance.

You know it likely was accidental, a mere mishap, but it looks pretty, intentional. Even if it's likely tarnished an overworn, maybe slightly beloved pair of jeans.

He says your name, forcing your head up. Speaking it all soft—so full of care and intention—it almost makes you swoon and crack. Almost makes you widen the door to let him inside.

“I’m embarrassed. It’s… it’s not even—“

“Hey, hey, look at me.” And you do, like nothing could be simpler. “I know you haven’t long moved in—and, you wouldn’t be askin’ for an opinion if it looked the best it ever could. Right?”

“Right.”

“So, let me in b… Rainy, please.”

You don’t miss it.

Even if you pretend you do.

It circling, playing. Imagination fuelled up and running the show now.

A thing which drowns the worries, holds its head under water as your brain begins to wonder what him calling you baby could sound like, be like.

Slowly, you lift your head from the door and step to the side to let him in.

Thankful you do, because you catch the scent of the hardware store—one you found you’ve actually really, really missed.

As though picking up on the thousand hints at how on edge you are, Frankie asks to see the dresser.

Makes a comment about needing to see if the paint covered, if butterscotch orange looked as good on wood as it did on walls.

You don’t argue, instead leading the way. Take him past your sofa and armchair right into the kitchen. As you do, he shares his day, weaves in bits on Harry—how he’s nothing but a torment, even if he says it with a grin.

“He asked about you.”

Thankful for the pot boiling, you pour him a cup of coffee, placing it down before clutching your own. Admiring the way he’s squatted down next to the dresser—fingers sliding over the edges.

“And, what did you tell him?”

Shrugging, Frankie looks over his shoulder—a smile there, evident, easily present. “Said I would ask when I saw you tonight—but, that I assumed you were good from how much you made me laugh last night.”

Heat burns your ears, almost making them match the temperature of your palms from being around the mug.

You think, search, and feel desperate for something to say, all aiming to fill the emptiness when you begin explaining what you’ve already done to your 'cheap find'.

Doing so with as many technical terms as you remember from videos—how you’d restored it, sanded it, etc, etc.

It’s only when he looks over his shoulder again, do you realise how not-weird this is. How it doesn’t feel wrong—relaxing at the realisation, the room and house following suit.

Resting the cup to your chest, you clear your throat, “You know, you’re the first person outside of my best friend that’s been here.”

Brows raising, lost under his hat and curls, his smile slides up further into one cheek. “That makes me special, right?”

“Oh, I think you know you’re special, Morales. I’ve read the comments under your videos.”

A bark of laughter leaves him, head shaking, attention turning back to the dresser as he runs his hand over the top.

“You’ve done good.”

Instantly, you grin. Folding your arms, remaining leaning against the side of the kitchen counter as you almost let a ‘yeah?’ escape, that you instead trade for: “You sound surprised.”

“You did imply you were hopeless.”

Shrugging, you watch him stand tall, fingers itching under the front of his hat as he leans against the wall.

“I am still hopeless.”

Shaking his head, he does nothing but grin—gifting you one full of warmth and sunshine. “I think you’ve just not had someone to show you, that’s all.”

“That going to be you?”

His tongue slides into his cheek, giving a half-shrug as he moves closer, pausing at the side of your kitchen counter. “If you want.”

“You don’t mind that I might have Pinterest boards?”

Chewing his cheek, he smirks as broad and as wide as his shoulders—as though it is difficult to contain. “You definitely have them. Wouldn’t believe you if you said you didn’t?”

Heat warms your cheek, and remains there—burning and pulsing as you avert your eyes briefly. “Maybe I have them.”

His laugh escapes quickly, almost loudly, booming and echoing like before. And you want him to do it again, needing to, as soon as it dies down to flood from him and land against the walls again.

But, instead, you take a large mouthful, placing the mug down. "Shall I show you my dream?"

Heading to show him the spare room, the one that you’re hoping to make into an office, his work boots sound out, echoing around the stripped-back hallway and bare flooring.

There's a comfortable quiet you don’t wish to allow to shift when you head down the hallway, beginning to explain. Hands moving, gesturing, sporadically glancing over your shoulder as he follows—finding his eyes don’t fall to the open boxes, but remain firmly on you.

It isn’t until you step inside the open doorway and he pauses at the do you (on command) continue talking. Slowly pointing to where you think you’d want things. Listing, nose-scrunching as you say how nice it would be to have floor-to-ceiling shelving, an armchair—a desk with space for work. A plant here, maybe one there.

How you want to move from your kitchen counter to in here for work—maybe put up a piece of art here, some nice curtains there. A real desk chair that’ll support your back.

You only stop when you look back and find him resting his forearm on the doorway, not looking anywhere around the room, just at you.

And it makes you pause. Mesmerised, by the way he rolls the pads of his fingers against his thumb, his forearm flexing and how the end of his t-shirt has slightly risen due to his leans. It undoes you, making you forget what room you're even standing in as your brain melts and you become rendered completely, fucking useless.

The spell doesn’t break until his arm drops, fingers push his hat up, eyes warming as he takes the space in. “You want to work near the window?”

Nodding, you move to the side, allowing him space, watching him as he takes his eyes off you, moves into the room and stares around. He sweeps his gaze, brows furrowing occasionally before he stops close to the window.

Sliding the pencil from the top of his ear, he pulls a pad of paper from his pocket. Jotting things down, sketching—eyes zig-zagging across the wall as he tries to mark whatever his thought is down. Mouth moving, occasionally hearing him working out numbers, before the sound is muffled by a scratch of the pencil.

You’re in awe. Just observing. Making no sense of what it is he’s drawing. Least of all what he’s thinking. But gosh, is he handsome when he does it.

More so, when that soft smile creeps back over his face at you watching him, and you worry (briefly) whether you’ve said it out loud.

“You’d have a nice view if your desk was here.”

“Got a nice one right now.”

Snorting, Frankie rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth ticking up into his cheek. “How much do you hate yourself for saying that?”

“Only a smidge,” you say, finger and thumb close together.

Holding his stare, you find the softness of his smile has spread to his eyes, and you can't help but roll your eyes. "Fine. Maybe a little more than a smidge," you amend, your own smile mirroring his.

His laughter fills the room once again, and you can't help but join in. The two of you standing there, and all you want to do is pinch yourself. Not sure how this could be real; how he could be, how all of this could be. How the grin on your face is really there and he’s really here—

“I’m thinking,” he begins. Voice clearing, eyes looking around. “We could build you a floor-to-ceiling set of shelves here like you want—maybe add some cupboards. Could be a nice backdrop if you’re sitting there. Can have it pre-built, or I can help you measure it, build it? Probably need—“

You should be listening. Maybe even making notes.

Not flicking your eyes to his lips, watching the way his face furrows or his lip curls in between listing things.

“How?"

"How, what?"

Swallowing, you exhale. "Did you get so good at that?”

His lips slide into his cheek. “At what?”

Tilting your head, you purse your lip, drop your arm from his shoulder, gesturing, finding the words. “I just watched you like—measure, with your head. I think I heard your brain... calculating?”

He pauses, mouth remaining open, a twinkle shimmering in his eye as he scratches at the curls hanging under his hat. “Oh, I… um. I used to fly. I was in the U.S. Army. Delta Force—guess I got good at measuring, doing calculations in my head, had to, you know?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Is that… that why you don't like to sit still either?”

Rolling his lips, he tucks the back behind his ear, nodding, a sheepish smile adorning his face.

“Well,” you say, “You’re good at it.”

Swallowing, he licks his lips, gaze not leaving you. “You not wanting to ask anything?”

“Should I?”

Shrugging, he licks his lip. Dragging it along slowly. “Some would.”

You shake your head, meeting his gaze. “I’m not some, am I?”

He considers it, your answer. Turns it over.

But his response isn’t verbal; it’s a gentle tug on the belt loop on your jeans, pulling you close. Out of instinct, your arm drapes over his shoulder. Silently thankful for the outfit choice, for choosing a nice top and jeans. Especially as you stand staring at him, eyes taking him in as he does the same.

Your heart pounds loudly in this definitive pause. A chance provided to cast your eyes away, to ask him what else he's thinking.

But that’s not what you want—not what you need.

Not as you close the small gap. Not as you watch his stare, all heavy and scorching, and how it drops to your lips, following a similar path you had taken on his face only a second prior.

Kiss me, you think.

But you realise as his lips slide into one cheek, dimple deepening, that the words had flowed out instead. Stretched out, laid a red carpet from yours to his.

And it’s inescapable, the pull you feel when your mouth marries itself to his, when your palm remains flush with his cheek, being greeted by the tickling of the wiry hairs on his jaw.

When he licks into your mouth, you’re gone—thrown off course and falling freely, all willingly, not wanting to ever land and not at all in fear of the descent as you grip him for stability. Neither of you stop when his hat falls from atop his head, landing with a crack on the floor.

Because it might be odd to have missed a mouth before, but you have.

Suddenly feeling all is right now it’s back against yours, where you write a story against his lips and taste the words he wishes to say in return. The room is empty, quiet—no backdrop this time compared to the street before—and so you can’t mask your whimpers, and you can’t mistake the sound of him groaning when you move him back so his back meets the walls.

Distantly aware of his hands gripping your waist, keeping you close, mouth chasing yours as you begin to grin, begin to feel him mirroring it.

And then he stops.

Pulls back.

A look on his face that’s unreadable and scrunched.

“I…”

Shame fires inside of you, like a key in an ignition, roaring itself to life. “I’m so sorry, Frankie—I thought, I mean—“

His hand comes around your wrist, stopping you, halting you in your desired path to move from him. “Stop, baby. Please.”

Baby.

It's there again. But this time, fully spoken, not held back.

“I just… I just want to do this right, is all. I’m… fuck, I’m here to help you. Meant to be a professional. Don’t… I don’t want you to think I tricked you into letting me in so I could… you know.”

Heat rises, billowing out across your cheek and neck. “I don’t… I don’t think that.”

“No?”

Shaking your head, you smile. “No.”

His chest fills before he lets out a loud exhale, thumb slowly drawing a circle on your wrist. “Good. ‘Cause…” he shakes his head as he bites his lower lip. “I want to take you out for dinner.” Index joining his thumb, both doing a pattern, as he whispers your name, forcing your eyes to meet his. “I want to treat you right. I… I don’t want to have come from work and—you know?”

Nodding you move a little closer, palm sliding over his cheek. “I know.”

He grins, sliding his palm down flush with yours, before he loops his fingers in between yours. “Good.”

“Good,” you whisper.

Tightening your hold on his, almost swinging it.

“Think you should kiss me again, though.”

Laughing, his eyes crinkle, dimple appearing briefly—but then he does.

Thank you for helping me move and assess the stability of my dresser.

No problem, glad to be of help.

I had a really nice time with you, Frankie.

How much did it pain you that you couldn’t work that into tease?

I’m wounded, bleeding out as we speak.

You need me to come back? Hold your hand.

Not sure that’s all I’d want you to do if you came back.

Not sure I’d keep my word about doing this right if I did either.

Because I’m an incredible kisser?

Because I didn’t want to leave you at all.

Wish you hadn’t, honestly.

Don’t tell me this, I’ll get back in my truck and come back.

Oh, the dreadfulness if you did.

Did you just use the word dreadfulness?

I did, and I stand by it.

What you doing on Friday at 7pm?

What do you want me to be doing on Friday at 7pm?

I want you to be sat opposite me at a place in town, candle in the middle.

Guess I can move things around to play footsie.

I’m eternally grateful.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy

386 notes · View notes

livyjh · 8 months

Text

Slumber Party

Co-written with @fhatbhabie

Best friend’s dad!Joel x Plus size!Virgin!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: you and a couple other friends stay at Sarah Miller’s for a sleepover. Sarah’s father, Joel, overhears something, you spill something, and eventually Joel sweetly takes your purity.

A/N: we wrote this up in like two hours in a frenzy of Joel x virgin reader madness. We love to see it, right??

Warnings: smut (duh), filler OC friends of reader and Sarah, reader is literally so clueless and innocent when it comes to anything sexual, soft!Joel, AGE GAP (reader is 22/23 and Joel is like 50), mentions of drinking alcohol/being intoxicated, wet t-shirt 👀, Joel is low key kind of a perv 🤷🏼, fem gendered terms used for reader, use of condom for once, loss of virginity, nipple play, I think that’s it??

Joel Miller Masterlist

****************************************************

“Should we get wine for the sleepover?” You asked Sarah.

“Heather and Kayla are gonna bring some. Dad would kill me if he saw me coming home with alcohol.” She rolled her eyes.

“But you're 23… You're old enough.”

“You know how my dad is. Still thinks I’m a virgin and that I’ve never had a boyfriend before.”

“Thought you told him everything?”

Sarah shrugged. “2 things I don’t talk to my dad about and that’s booze and boys. Much less when I mix those things together.” You both giggled. You paid for the snacks and other things you had picked out for the night and tossed all the bags in the trunk of your car.

“I got some fun things we could do too.” Sarah smirked.

“Jesus… Like what?”

“You’re gonna have to wait and see.” She smirked and let out an evil laugh.

“Think I’m just gonna go home...” you mumbled, making her laugh.

***

You walked into the house with Sarah, helping her bring in the snacks and things you bought.

“Dad, we’re back!” Sarah yelled out. You heard heavy footsteps walk down and he walked into the kitchen. Joel Miller. Your best friend’s dad and the one man you somehow can’t ever stop looking at with heart eyes… like the damn emoji.

“Hey, baby girl. Get everythin’ you girls needed?” His thick Texan accent was smooth as fucking honey to your ears. Made your heart and stomach flutter when you heard it, along with a different feeling that you couldn’t really explain… because you didn’t even know where the feeling came from.

“Yep. Heather and Kayla should be here shortly so we’ll be in my room.”

“Why don’t you girls take the livin’ room?”

“Because we’re gonna be sharing our deepest, darkest secrets.” She teased, making Joel laugh. Jesus Christ… his laugh. Definitely made that unknown feeling grow stronger.

The sound of the doorbell pulled you out of your thoughts. Sarah walked over and opened the door, leaving you and Joel alone in the kitchen.

“How have you been, Mr. Miller?” You asked sweetly.

“Good darlin’ how about you?”

“Good, just working.” You shrugged.

“Must be workin’ an awful lot. Haven’t seen much of you around.”

“Yeah trying to save up to move out of my moms. Maybe even get a place with Sarah.”

Joel nodded. “Yeah, she mentioned it. You know if you ever need anythin’ you can just let me know darlin. I don’t mind helpin.”

You blush when he calls you darlin. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.” You gave him a sweet smile and walked up to Sarah’s room.

“I’m gonna go change into my pajamas.” You smiled at the girls and grabbed your overnight bag.

You stepped into the bathroom and slipped on a white tank top with a pair of hot pink pajama shorts that hugged your ass perfectly. Granted tonight you didn’t care about looks but it was your favorite pajama set and your most comfortable. You walked back into Sarah’s room and sat down in the circle everyone was sitting in on the floor.

“Here.” Kayla handed you a glass of red wine. You took a small sip, letting out a groan when the bitter taste hits your tongue.

After almost 2 bottles of wine later is when the game started. The classic game of Truth or Dare.

“Okay okay, Kayla, truth or dare?” Heather asks.

“Mmmm dare.” Kayla replies.

Heather thought for a second. “I dare you to ask your most recent Tinder match for a dick pic.” She smirked.

“God you’re such a perv, Heather.” Sarah laughed.

Kayla pulled out her phone and did what Heather said. Seconds later her phone went off and she pulled up the text and started blushing.

“Fuck, I might end up meeting with this man…” she mumbled.

“You slut, let me see!” Heather yelled out, making Kayla turn her phone around and show everyone. You felt your chest tighten at the sight of the picture. It wasn’t long, but it was thick. So thick that his hand didn't fully wrap around it.

“Is… Is it supposed to look like that…?” You whispered.

“You’ve never seen a dick before?” Heather asked.

“Umm, okay who’s next?” You called out, trying to quickly change the subject.

“Y/N. Truth or dare?” Kayla asked, looking at you with a smirk. This can’t be good.

“Truth...”

“Is it true that you’re still a virgin?” She says; a little too loudly.

You felt heat rise quickly to your cheeks, almost making them the color of your shorts.

“Yes...” you mumbled into your glass of wine.

“No way! You’re fucking joking.” Sarah said.

“No, it’s true...” you said, a little embarrassed.

“Are you just waiting, or…?” Sarah raised a brow.

“Not really. Not waiting for marriage or anything, I just haven’t found the right guy I wanna do it with…”

“I bet you there’s plenty of guys that wanna do it with you.” Heather added.

“Yeah, but the only reason they want to is ‘cause they wanna bang a big girl. I don’t wanna lose my virginity to some sleeze ball like that.” You took a sip and let out a sigh. “Plus I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to that.”

“Babe, I can teach you.” Heather smirked, making you all burst into laughter.

***

After you all finished the third bottle of wine, everyone fell asleep. You woke up and looked over at the clock Sarah had on her bedside table and saw it was a little past 1am. You stretched your body out and got up slowly and quietly, moving around the sleeping girls on the floor. You walked down to the kitchen and turned on the sink, filling a glass of water.

“Everythin’ okay?” Joel said, making you jump.

“Christ… You scared me, Mr. Miller.”

He let out a small chuckle. “Sorry darlin, didn’t mean to. You okay, though?”

“Yeah, just thirsty.” You said, giving him a small smile. You bring the glass to your lips, sipping at the cold water. It felt so good going down your throat that you couldn’t help but gulp it down as fast as you could.

The water spills over the sides of the glass and drips down your chin and onto your thin tank top. You quickly lower the glass and wipe your face, then look down at your wet chest. Joel’s eyes follow yours.

The water wet the center of the shirt, really showing the cleavage underneath. From the cold temperature of the water, your nipples quickly hardened and started to poke out under the tank top. Joel groans in his throat, causing you to look up at him.

His eyes are focused on your chest, strong jaw clenching and unclenching. He gulps and then his eyes meet yours. “You- you got another shirt you can change into?” He asks, voice an octave deeper.

“Yeah… it’s upstairs.” You bite your lip as you look up at him through your lashes. There was that feeling again… the one you couldn’t identify. It was somewhere in your pelvis.

“Why don’t you take that off? Don’t want you gettin’ too cold.” Joel glances down at your cleavage once more.

That sent fire through your body and blood straight between your legs. You squeezed your thighs together, barely holding back a moan that dared to escape. “O- okay.” You nod.

You couldn’t help but agree, the way his eyes were on you… the way it was making you feel… you don’t know why, but you want him to touch you. Everywhere.

You set the almost empty glass on the counter and reach for the hem of your tank top. Your fingers fiddle with it for a moment before you slowly lift it up, revealing your belly and then your breasts until it was all the way off.

Joel made another choked sound in his throat, staring at your lips for a long second before his eyes drifted back down to your chest. You feel like you should be uncomfortable. Like you shouldn’t want him to see your naked torso right now, but it’s not how you feel.

“I hear one of the girls ask if you were a virgin earlier?” His voice was soft as his eyes went up to meet yours again.

You nod.

“Didn’t hear your answer.” Joel shifts his weight to his other leg.

“Y- yes. It was… yes.” You breathe.

“Can’t believe that. Pretty girl like you…” he takes a deep breath and steps closer. “If it were me… I’d treat you real good. Take it as slow as you wanted.”

Your heart starts beating faster and you could almost feel the warmth coming off the older man’s body. You can feel your heart beating between your legs too. That was new.

“Mr. Miller… I-“ you swallow thickly. “W- would you… teach me?”

“Teach you what?” He pauses. “Need to hear you say it, honey.”

“Teach me how… to have sex. To- to feel good… like that.” You raise your brows just slightly.

“More’n happy to, darlin.” He smirks, just barely. “You comfortable comin up to my room?” He gently tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Yes, Mr. Miller.” You smile.

He smiles back and nods his head towards the stairs, encouraging you to follow him.

Once you’re in his room, you’re overtaken by the pure smell and essence of Joel.

The door closes and you spin around to look at him, top half still bare, wet tank top in hand.

He stands there for a moment, not moving in just yet.

You’ve only just noticed he’s wearing gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. You could… see things… through the sweatpants. It made your stomach twist in the best way.

“Have a seat, honey.” He motions to the bed, letting you sit before he starts to walk over. He plops down next to you, taking your tank top from your hands and tossing it onto the chair against the wall.

“Mind if I touch?” Joel hovers a hand over your thigh.

“Y- yeah. That’s fine.” You nod, breath a little shaky.

He rests his large hand on your upper thigh, the warmth of it making you gasp softly.

“Now, if at any point you wanna stop, just say so. Okay?”

“Okay.” You smile at him.

“So… you’ve never done anything?” He asks, thumb rubbing up and down on your leg.

You shake your head. “Well, I’ve like, done heavy making out before but that’s it.”

“You ever do anything by yourself?”

“By myself?”

“Yeah. Masturbate.” He looks up and down your body throughout the conversation.

“Oh… um, no. I mean, I’ve kinda tried but I don’t really know what I’m doing.” You admit, blushing hard.

He smiles. “That’s okay, sweetie. I’ll teach you anything you wanna know.”

You nod. “Can we start with the basics?”

“Of course.”

“Now the most important part, especially for your first time, is the foreplay.” Joel brings up the hand on your thigh, turns it over, and runs the back of it over your breast, his knuckles brushing against your nipple.

You shiver slightly. “F- foreplay?”

“Gettin you warmed up. If you’re not warmed up, it’s not gonna feel good.” He moves his hand up, pushing your hair over the back of your shoulder and moving his palm down your back and to the top of your ass.

“What’s the best way to do that?”

“Depends on the person. I like to start with kissing and touching.”

“Okay.” You breathe.

“Can I kiss you, baby doll?” He leans in just slightly.

“Yes, Mr. Miller.”

He laughs softly. “Call me Joel if you want to.”

“Okay.” You smile and the next thing you know, you’re both closing your eyes and leaning in.

His lips press to yours gently and you instinctively wrap your arms around the back of his neck. Both of his hands find the sides of your waist and pull you in closer as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth.

You whimper as he barely bites your lower lip before releasing it. His left hand moves up to cup your right breast, making you giggle.

“What’s so funny?” He laughs along.

“Just tickled a little.” You smile.

He laughs again before leaning in once more. As you start to kiss repeatedly, making out with each other, he palms at your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple.

Whatever he was doing, it was making you feel like you had to pee. You’ve had a similar feeling before, but you could never figure out the cause of it.

You squeeze your thighs together, something Joel notices. “Does that feel good?”

“Really good.” You assure him.

“May I?” Joel moves his hands down to your shorts, slipping his fingers into the waistband.

“Yeah.” You move your arms behind you to support yourself as you lift your hips and he takes off your shorts.

“Mm. Look at those. Very cute.” Joel smiles when he looks at your panties.

They’re white, with small bundles of pink flowers scattered across the fabric, and edges that were slightly frilly.

“Thanks.”

“‘Course. C’mere.” He stands and motions to the bed. “Lay down.”

You do as you’re told, turning and moving up the bed to lay down, resting your head on one of the pillows. “Like this?”

“That’s perfect.” He nods.

“Um, Mr. Miller?” You feel nervousness churn in your stomach.

“What?”

“I think I would like it if you took some of your clothes off too.”

He grins. “Of course.” He reaches down to the bottom of his shirt and pulls it up and off over his head before letting it drop to the floor.

You look down at his sweatpants and notice that the bulge there has grown and tented the pants slightly.

“These too?” He asks, hooking his thumbs into the gray waistband.

“Yeah.” You nod.

He smiles and slips the sweatpants down over his hips and thighs, stepping out of them when they hit the ground.

You can’t help but look at his dick in his boxer briefs. It looks big, you think. Not that you really had anything to compare it to. Had to be longer than the one from Kayla’s phone earlier. And about the same thickness you’d guess.

Joel lays down in the bed, facing you, so close that his chest is touching your arm. It’s so warm. He’s so warm.

He leans in closer, kissing your cheek. Then another kiss at the base of your jaw. Then another below your ear and a few more down your neck.

You squeeze your thighs together again as he trails kisses down the center of your chest. You watch him as he does this, his lips brushing over your left breast until his mouth surrounds your nipple.

He presses an especially wet kiss to it before his tongue peeks out and flicks the pink bud. You gasp at the feeling, something tightening in your core.

“How’s that feel?” He asks, making sure he’s taking care of you.

“Kinda weird I guess. But- but good. Like, really good.”

“Alright.” He nods and swirls his tongue around your nipple as his hand moves to the lower part of your belly. He starts to gently rub his hand back and forth over it as it slowly gets lower, stopping at the top of your panties.

He suddenly sucks your nipple into his mouth and you reach up to grab his hair, your eyes rolling back in your head.

His hand, laid flat, moves down further, over the fabric of your underwear until his fingers are gently cupping your sex.

You’re ready to start squirming at this point. You don’t know what you need. Just… “more.” You whine.

“More what?” Joel looks up at you.

“I- I don’t know.” You frown.

“Alright, baby, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” He promises.

You nod in return and he leans back down to your breast, sucking your nipple once more. You gasp when his fingers press against your slit through your panties, just noticing how wet they were.

“You’re soaked, honey.” He smiles up at you, his middle and ring finger rubbing up and down the slick spot on your underwear.

“W- what’s that mean?” You ask shyly.

“Means I’m doin my job right.” He explains.

You lick your lips and nod, watching as he moves his fingers up to your waistband. He watches your face as he slips his hand underneath the white fabric, calloused fingertips brushing over a special spot that makes you buck your hips.

“What was that?” You whine quietly.

“That’s your clit. Has a lotta nerves. That’s your best friend.” He smiles and then looks down, following your gaze.

He moves his middle finger over your clit again and you gasp.

“We’ll come back to her.” Joel smiles up at you before his finger is dipping lower, pressing against your entrance.

“Ever had anything inside?” He asks.

You shake your head.

“Alright. I’m gonna go slow. You tell me if you want me to go faster.”

“Okay.” You bite your lip.

He starts to insert a digit inside of you, slow, like he promised.

It feels… well, it’s certainly not bad. Not yet. You’ve heard though that the deeper something gets, the more it hurts.

He’s in to the first knuckle when you start to feel a slight stretch. It’s not painful, but you can tell that things are tight down there. You have no idea how you’d get a penis in there.

You clench your pussy around his finger as he starts to move it again.

“Relax, honey.” He coos.

You relax your muscles and spread your legs further. He keeps pushing until he’s to the second knuckle and then he stops to let you adjust.

“How’s it feel?” He asks.

“Like… pressure.”

“Doesn’t hurt?”

“No.” You smile.

“Good.” He grins back at you.

He starts to pull his finger out. You begin, “What are you- oh!” Then he cuts you off when he starts to push his finger back inside.

He does it again, and again, beginning to slowly thrust the digit in and out of you.

“That’s feels r- really good, Mr. Miller.” You sigh with pleasure.

“Good, baby. It’s s’posed to… I’m gonna keep pushing a little deeper each time, but you let me know if it starts to hurt, okay?” He raises a brow at you.

“Yes, Joel.” You smile, using his first name for the first time.

“Good girl.” He smiles back.

He keeps moving his hand back and forth, slowly getting deeper with each thrust. Eventually, he’s got his middle finger fully engulfed by your swollen pussy.

“It doesn’t hurt yet.” You explain.

“Good. I’m gonna do two fingers now, k?”

You nod, giving him permission.

He withdraws his middle finger and then lines up again with his ring finger next to it. He starts to push in and you immediately feel the stretch this time. Even at the first knuckles.

“Okay that- that feels like more.”

“Hurts?”

“No.” You shake your head.

He keeps pushing to the second knuckles, letting you adjust again.

“Starting to hurt. Just a little.” You explain.

“Alright. Trust me on this, you can stretch out. Just gotta work at it a little.”

“Okay.” You nod.

“You’re- I mean, Jesus, you’re plenty wet. Soakin my fingers down here.”

You blush again.

“That’s a good thing, darlin.” He smiles and starts to pull his fingers out before pushing them in to the second knuckles again.

He does this for a few seconds and he was right, the pain was starting to fade and turn into pleasure.

Before you know it, you’re asking him to go faster, Joel speeding his fingers up. Something is building inside you, a feeling you’ve never experienced before. But, god, it felt fucking amazing.

He’s able to get two full fingers inside you now as he’s thrusting them at a quick pace. His thumb moves to press against your clit and you almost scream at the way it feels.

“Baby, you gotta be quiet. Don’t wanna wake up the girls.” He says in a hushed voice.

You nod, biting back another sound. He leans in to kiss you, swallowing your moans as you feel yourself get closer to exploding. You knew what an orgasm was… you’ve just never had one.

“Joel-“ you cry against his lips. “Feels- ohhh fuck… it’s gonna happen.” You gasp.

“Alright, honey. I’ve got you. Don’t worry. You just enjoy it.” He breathes the words before kissing you again.

The shockwave finally hits you, sending your brain and body into a frenzy. Your legs shake and your hips buck, you’re moaning into Joel’s mouth helplessly, feeling liquid spread over his fingers and into your panties. You’re almost sobbing as Joel continues, eventually starting to slow his hand down.

He pulls back so you can breathe as hard as you need to, cunt still pulsing as he takes his fingers out of you. “You okay, darlin?”

You take a deep breath and nod. “Y- yeah. That felt really good.” You whine.

“You like feeling full like that?”

You nod frantically.

He laughs a little, nodding as he helps you pull off your now completely soaked panties. He throws them behind him, them landing somewhere on the floor next to the bed.

He rolls onto his back and removes his own underwear before reaching into his nightstand drawer and pulling out a condom. When he gets on his knees and moves between your legs, his cock bounces and drips down onto the bed.

“Is it gonna hurt?” You stare at his groin.

“Maybe at first. But don’t worry, honey, we’ll do the same thing. Take it nice and slow until you adjust.” He smiles and opens the condom, rolling it onto his hardness.

He tosses the wrapper aside and positions himself above you, leaning down to kiss you as one of his hands guides him to your entrance.

The head of his cock slides up and down through your wet folds, making loud wet noises. You blush a bit at how filthy it sounds. But it turns you on even more.

When his cock brushes over your clit, you reach for his shoulders to ground yourself and keep from being too loud.

All at once, it hit you. You were dangerously close to losing your virginity.

He senses your nervousness and looks up at you. “Hey, we can still stop. Don’t have to go through with it.” He hums against your lips.

“No, I want to. I want it to be you, Joel.” You kiss him.

He kisses back happily and then he’s pushing into you. You gently bite his bottom lip as you whine. He’s going so slow and it feels so good, so full.

“J- Joel…” you breathe against his lips, forehead pressed to his.

He pauses, almost halfway in. “Can I work you open, baby?”

You let out a shaky breath, hips rolling against his. “Yeah.”

He groans as he pulls out of you until the head of his cock catches your lips, then he’s pushing back in. He goes a bit deeper every time, still moving nice and slow so that you don’t hurt too much.

With each thrust in, you breathe a soft moan into his mouth. He’s swallowing your noises like it’s his last meal, his hand moving up from between your legs to cradle your face as he kisses you.

“You’re so-“ he groans. “You feel so good.”

“Y- you do too.” You whimper. “Please… go all the way in.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

He lets out a low moan as he pushes all the way inside now, sheathing his cock in your tight cunt.

It does hurt a little, but you’re so aroused you couldn’t care less. The pain and pleasure mix is making you dizzy. He pulls most of the way out before pushing all the way back in. You gasp at the feeling and dig your nails into his shoulders, clawing at the skin there. It only encouraged him.

He began to speed up, letting out little grunts as he thrusted. You kept making out all the while, swallowing each other's noises and trying not to be too loud.

After a few minutes, Joel’s hips were slapping against your thighs, the sound of it filling the room. He hooks his arms under your knees and lifts them up, getting even deeper as he keeps his fast pace.

“Ohh fuck. M- more. I- I need more, Joel.” You cry against his lips.

He reaches down and starts rubbing circles against your clit and that’s exactly what you needed.

You’re gasping for air as his hips start to stutter. “Baby I’m getting close.” He groans.

“M- me too.” You whine.

He rubs your clit even faster and then you’re tipping over the edge. You stifle a scream as you kiss him, orgasm hitting you like a train.

That’s all it takes to finish Joel off and he cums, thrusting especially hard as he did so.

You’re both panting, holding onto each other tight as he slows down. He pulls out of you and you whine at the loss.

After removing and tying the condom, he puts it in the little trash can next to the bed and lays down next to you.

His fingers trace up and down your side, his lips pressing kisses to your lips and cheeks as your breathing evens out. “Congratulations.” He whispers.

“Hm?” You hum against his lips.

“You lost your virginity.” He smiles.

“Yeah.” You laugh.

“You still feeling good about it?” He pulls back enough to look into your eyes.

You nod. “It was perfect.”

“Good.” He grins. “As much as I want you to sleep in here with me… I don’t know if you want your friends finding out about-“

“It’s okay.” You smile. “Can we just cuddle for a little bit before I go back to Sarah’s room?”

“Of course.” He nods and pulls you close. “I did have a question…”

“What?”

“Can I keep those panties of yours?” He blushes a little.

You grin, happy not to be the nervous one for a moment. “Yeah.”

The next morning you and the girls were downstairs enjoying breakfast when Joel walked down dressed and ready for work.

“Mornin girls.” He called out, smiling.

“Good morning Mr. Miller.” Everyone but Sarah called out in unison, making him chuckle. You got up from your seat and took your empty plate to the kitchen.

“Still have my number right?” Joel whispered.

“Yeah I do...”

“Feel free to send me a text any… time.” He whispered, giving you a wink. You tried so hard not to giggle and smile like a stupid school girl but you felt the heat rush to your cheeks, not really helping trying to hide your emotions.

“Didn't know you knew how to text.” You teased.

He looked around and saw the girls were still sitting at the table talking away. He leaned down to where you could feel his lips brushing against your ear. “There's a lot of things you don't know about me, baby doll.”

It felt like someone had poured ice down your shirt. Chills went up and down your spine and thankfully the new t-shirt you had on was a lot thicker than the tank top from last night, so Joel couldn't see how hard your nipples got just by the words he whispered to you.

He placed a soft kiss on your temple and made his way out to the dining room with you not far behind.

“Alright, I'm out. Shouldn't be home too late.” He said as he kissed the top of Sarah’s head.

“I'll be here.” She smiled.

“Bye, girls.” He waved as he walked towards the front door.

“Bye Mr. Miller.” You and the other two girls said in unison. He glanced back up at you one last time and made his way out of the house.

“God your dad’s so hot…” Heather muttered, making you all laugh and Sarah groan in disgust.

Joel tossed his work belt in the bed of his truck and made his way up front. He pulled out your panties from last night that he had tucked into the pocket of his jeans and wrapped them around his rear view mirror. He leaned back into his seat and chuckled at the sight of your pure innocent panties in his truck reminding him that he was the one that took away your innocence and purity. He fucking loved it.

He heard his phone go off in the seat next to him. He picked it up and saw your name pop up.

You: so when's the next lesson?

____________________________________________

Tag list: @evyiione @chyannealaniz @cesspitoflove @supersingle @dizzyforyou @jrosie25 @blackfemalenerd @bongsrconfusing @milly-louise

1K notes · View notes

queenimmadolla · 1 year

Text

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • eddie edit © @fefemunson! • ao3

Summary: After four long years of pining, it’s high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there’s no better time for love confessions than Valentine’s Day. If only you hadn’t chosen to do so anonymously, because you’re pretty sure Eddie Munson is hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff

authors note: no, you're not imagining things. i'm reposting a story i already have up. unfortunately, i seem to have an anti who has been flagging anything of mine that gains traction as content that it is not so it's hidden to those who don't have the settings on (most people) and goes to die away, never to be interacted with again. they're attempting to do the same to Magical Mysteria, as they had the original flagged and, therefore, hidden. because everyone seemed to really relate to reader and enjoyed reading this particular fic, i've decided to give that anti the finger, so here's a repost.

word count: 10k

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

“Are you stalking him again?”

You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

“Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????

“I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

“Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile.

“I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”

Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

“No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking.

“Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.

Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.

Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time.

Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.

The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you.

You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

“Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

“How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

“I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.

Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

“No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

“That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her.

“Can you leave this on his desk?”

“Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

“And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them.

She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.

“Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

“Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

“Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

“No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything.

You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.

During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place.

You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so.

You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.

The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there.

The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then.

The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him, you just had to write your name.

Yeah, simple as that.

You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper.

You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

Just write on the paper.

Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.

—

Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.

Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him.

A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.

He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous. He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around.

He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.

Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.

He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking.

The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.

The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.

He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared.

By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public.

He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

“Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.

“Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance.

“Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I’m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”

Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.

Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

“I swore.”

Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump.

“Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”

Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.

──

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.

Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

“Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich.

“No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.

“Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone.

Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note.

“Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).

Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.

You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.

After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason behind why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

─

Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table.

His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, was on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

“Eddie?”

His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

“Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.

“On the house.”

“Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

“Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.

Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

“Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

Was she playing coy?

“Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

“That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.

“I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping, if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

Chrissy glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?

“It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.

Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him.

“So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”

Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.

“Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.

He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.

“‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”

He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.

“It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.”

Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there.

He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.

And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies.

“Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis.

He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out—he’d let them down.

“She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”

“I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”

She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.

“Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.

He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.

Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.

He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.

It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.

The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.

The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.

Eddie,

Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.

Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real.

She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.

I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.

Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.

I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the underclassmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it).

And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying.

But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should.

You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel.

So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.

Love,

What the fuck?

Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.

There was no name.

“NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.

This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear.

His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose.

The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.

“Eddie, dude, are you okay?”

Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular.

“Byers. Where’s Byers?”

“His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness.

It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”

He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards.

He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.

“Is this yours?”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“No.” Then he walked out.

Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.

His secret admirer’s pen.

“What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.

The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party.

It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.

Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme.

He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.

Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author.

Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door.

Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection.

He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.

Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.

“Hey, you okay?”

─

Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were.

Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party.

You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.

Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.

You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.

“Hey, you okay?”

You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”

You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.

He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you’d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.

And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.

“I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.”

Try devastated.

“You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.

“You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.

“That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”

You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it.

But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”

You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.

It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.

“You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you.

“Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”

You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.

“Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.

“Ah, I see. Is he here?”

You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”

“Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.

“No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”

Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.

“That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.

“Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”

Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.

“Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.

“I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.

“Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.

“Because I have no idea who she is.”

Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.

“What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.

“Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”

Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.

Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.

“Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

“Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”

Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that.

“I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.

He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.

You frowned down at him.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Hello.

Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”

You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.

He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.

“Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.”

Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.

“Is that my pen?”

“Huh?”

“My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked.

When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”

Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.

“What?”

He finally blinked, licking his lips again.

“You’re a really good liar.”

“What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?

His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.

“This is your pen?”

“Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?

“This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.

“Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”

He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”

And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.

“That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”

When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.

You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.

Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.

“Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”

You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public.

“I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.

“What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?”

You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack.

“Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.

“Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?”

“No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.

“Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.

“It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”

“Is Eddie looking for you?”

“Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken.

“He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”

“Yes!”

“Then why would he be looking for you?”

You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder.

“I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger.

Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.

He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.

Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.

Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.

He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle.

Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.

The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you.

It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.

He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.

Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.

“Hi, again.”

You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.

Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.

“Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.

“You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.

“It’s only fair, right? Since I know?”

You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.

Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.

Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.

He didn’t leave you waiting for long.

“I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it.

“I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”

Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.

“And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”

Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.

“I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you.

“And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath.

There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).

And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions.

He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.

You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you’d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.

He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”

This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.

The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.

Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.

“You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”

You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.

“They’re not the only ones.”

Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.

— You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did.

Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear.

“I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”

“Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.

You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated.

With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.

Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.

“Like ‘em?”

You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.

“Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.

“I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”

“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”

Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.

Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.

“Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”

“Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”

“For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”

Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.

‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.

“He’s whipped,” Heather stated.

“Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”

“That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses.

“. . . You still need to get your books, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.

─

Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.

2K notes · View notes

whorediaries-09 · 3 months

Note

remember how I'd fly to you?💋 another one bc my mind RAN with ideas coquette-y!reader gives siri flowers and he's surprised because she remembered his favorite flower and reader doing lovey-dovey little things (taking care of him when he's drunk, washing his hair softly, giving him massages, making hot cocoa for him) while he stares at her in awe.

okay i kinda like how this one turned out 🎀

lavender haze;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- mutual pinning, tooth rotting fluff, alcohol. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- i just wanna stay...

the slut club

i feel the lavender haze creepin' up on me

'sirius did you get your helmet?' your startled shout echoes from your house. it's still carries its softness, the healing aura when it falls on sirius' eardrums. he hears your muffled pacing around in the hall. he wonders what you're searching for, sandals or his helmet. he doesn't think you'd like to get your soft bunny slippers dirty.

he bumps his black boot against the gravel of the road, twisting and turning around his motorbike keys. he hears your footsteps echo in your pretty garden as you approach him. his black helmet in your hands, a stark contrast against your pretty pastel colored dress you wore.

'how could forget your helmet sirius!' you scold. but there's no grimace in your tone, or anger. it's pure and raw, honey coated words from your vocal cords. he throws you a lopsided smile. one that makes your heart flutter and do somersaults against your ribcage.

'it ruins my hair,' he says. you knit your eyebrows together, standing on your tiptoes, sliding the helmet across his head. biting your lip, you clasp it under his jaw.

'well you'll have to shave it off if you...' you advise, shaking your head at the horrible thought. his smile softens, as he throws his arm around your neck, pulling you closer. you breathe in his warm scent of cedar and mahogany. his hot breathe fans over your face before he presses a soft peck on your forehead. you close your eyes as heat rushes under your skin.

'i'll be safe from now on, sweetie,' he whispers against your hot blazing skin. your hand crawls over his leather jacket, as you pat him, slowly moving away from his hold. because you're sure that if you don't you'll combust right then and there.

'promise?' you ask. he inserts his key into his bike, turning on the engine. patting his helmet he nods,

'promise.'

the 'just for you' remains silent.

******

you sink your knees into the mud, planting another healthy batch of gloxinias, heathers. daisies and yarrows. your garden isn't very huge, but it's not too small either. it's patched with pretty flower beds and well mowed fresh grass. the abyss of the soft hues of pinks, lavenders and whites melt to form a garden so very like you.

sirius thinks it's endearing how much you take care of flowers. he likes them too, especially the daisies. he wonders how it would feel if you braided them into his hair, but he doesn't want to pick your carefully cultivated flowers.

he doesn't want the flowers on his hair, he thinks. he just wants to feel your fingers running through the locks. and the flowers seem to be an excuse to keep something from you. something like a souvenir. something to keep near him, knowing how much love and effort you put in to grow them.

he sinks his hand into the packet of groceries, pulling out a tray of strawberries.

'hi sweetie,' he says, standing by you. you jump a little, seemingly startled by his sudden appearance. he doesn't blame you. he finds you adorable when you're surprised...well no he finds you adorable all the time. so maybe he'd done it on purpose.

his heart skips a beat as you stand up, wiping your dirty, muddy hands on your apron. your hair is tousled, messy. your eyes reflect the shimmer of the sun, but nothing beats the shine of your smile.

'i brought you strawberries,' he hands you the tray of strawberries. you smile at him, and his heart melts. he's so in love with you, he thinks. it's endearing, how much he wants to kiss your lips, comb your tousled hair, paint your nails with pretty pastel colors, pick out sundresses for you.

'thank you, pretty,' you say. he throws you a lopsided smile. his mind reels with the nickname you used for him...pretty. he's putty in your hands and you don't even know it. he's devoted to you and you don't even know it.

'i'm gonna make it into a jam, would you want some?' you ask.

'i'd love some,'

he doesn't really want you, he loves you.

*****

it was slow. it progressed eventually. when the looks in a crowded room began to wander about solely for him. when you laughed at the silliest jokes by him. when you wore his black leather jacket on a cold day, just to realize you'd like to submerge in his scent forever. when you held his hand for the first time and the sparks crawled under your skin. when the gray skies and beaches only seemed appealing when they were the shade of his eyes.

it took a lot of convincing from lily for you to realize. you didn't really have a crush on sirius. no, you didn't want him.

you loved him.

you'd broken a few flowers from your garden. heathers, yarrows and daisies. you'd tied them together, making a little bouquet. though you weren't sure he'd like it, considering the bouquet looked like a mess. a beautiful mess none the less.

taking in a breath you knocked on his door. you heard shuffling around in his hallway, before the door swung upon, revealing a shirtless sirius. his chest was clad in tattoos, which rather hid under the t-shirts he wore. his gray sweatpants hung low on his narrow hips, revealing his happy trail. fuck, you thought, gulping slowly. you felt the heat crawl under your skin to your neck and ears, your eyes drifting to your shoes.

the sight haunted you, in the best way possible. and even though you could stare at him all day, you were just his friend.

a friend who was hopelessly in love with him.

'hav-have i interrupted something?' you ask, even though no other shoes were visible other than his.

'god, no sweetie, i was hot,'

you are hot, you think wordlessly.

'you can look, i promise,' he says. his voice carries a teasing tone. you're sure you feel your heart burst out from your ribcage and your legs turn shaky when you look at him, leaned against his doorframe, his hand tucked away in his pocket. his smile burns through you, as you hand him the jam and the bouquet of flowers. he's visually speechless. his eyebrows knitted into an unreadable emotion. you wonder what he thinks.

'thanks, love,' he says, nudging his finger against his scrunched up nose. love...he says. he'd never used it before...

you want nothing but to sink into his arms and kiss him.

*****

he wraps his hands around your body. he's sure he smells like whiskey, beer and things you don't like. but you're soft, and he's drunk. he needs you, he needs the one he loves close by. he needs to feel your skin upon his. he needs to submerge himself into your scent.

'pretty, you're drunk,' your house smells so homely. he wants to sink in your cave and presence for an everlasting period. he wants to coat his eardrums into your honey weaved voice forever.

'i knowww,' he slurs. he hears you locking the door. you house smells of vanilla and sugar. he wonders whether he had interrupted your baking session. he wonders whether you're angry at him for drinking. but your beautiful eyes speak nothing. he knits his eyebrows, tucking your head under his jaw. he presses your head against his chest.

'did i interrupt something?'

'no,' you chuckle. he thinks it's the most beautiful melody he's heard.

'sirius, you should take a bath...i'll draw you one yeah?'

he blinks as you separate yourself from him. you guide him to your couch, telling him to sit down and open his shoes. he unbuckles the belt of his boots, before he hears the splashing of water against ceramic.

'sweetie, will you wash my hair?' he says, when he sees you waddle back into the hall. you play with your fingers clumsily, not quite meeting his gaze.

'you're sure?' you whisper.

'yeah,' he nods. his heart somersaults when you agree. so he walks into your washroom. the bubbles in the bathtub shimmer under the moonlight that enter through the window. your bath smells of watermelons and strawberries. he strips himself off his clothes, sinking under the hot water.

'love, you can come in,' he shouts. you slowly walk into your bathroom. he's thrilled, to say the least. to be soaked in your scent. to finally feel your fingers against his scalp. his heart flutters, when you kneel down beside him, grabbing the bottle of shampoo.

the silence is comforting, soaked in an effervescent of pure bliss and innocence. neither of you speak, afraid to jinx the moment. because it feels unreal, a haze. but it's real, your eyes boring into his, your fingers rubbing into his scalp. it's real, his hot breath fanning over your face. it's real, how he feels so close yet so far away. it's real, when he finally breaks the silence.

'i love you, sweetie,'

'you're drunk,'

'in love,'

*****

the smell of hot chocolate mixes with your spritz of cherries. you feel the hot gaze of sirius burn your back through you. he thinks there's nothing not to love about you. he's not drunk from alcohol anymore, but he remembers confessing. he remembers being drunk in love.

because he is, right now. and he wants to be all the time, if it's you he loves.

and he doesn't regret it, no. the poems he'd written about you would never compare to the ethereal love he feels for you. the paints melting on canvas could never capture your beauty. they could never capture how you made him feel. they could never capture the softness of your voice. they could never capture the feeling of your hair against his fingers. they could never capture the feeling of your body pressed against his. they could never capture the random scribbles of your fingers on his back. they could never capture the beauty of your eyes. they could never capture your sunny smile. they could never capture the taste of your jams or cookies. they could never capture the taste of your lips against his.

they could never capture you.

not when your lips melted with his, when you hand him the cup of hot cocoa.

290 notes · View notes

hd-junglebook · 1 month

Text

Falling For It

Part 6 - Word Count 3067

This was kind of fun to write, part 7 should be done by Friday...I hope.

Prev … Next

Y/N descended the winding staircase, her bare feet padding softly against the polished wooden steps. The open layout of the Lakehouse allowed the warm glow of the moon to filter through the expansive windows, bathing the living room in a pale blue hue.

As she reached the bottom step, Y/N paused, her fingers absently twirling a lock of her long, tousled hair. She surveyed the room, taking in the scene before her with a small, contented smile.

In the kitchen, Quinn and Nico stood behind the sleek white marble island, their hands moving deftly as they prepared a colorful array of drinks.

Quinn, with his messy brown hair and vibrant blue eyes, laughed heartily at something Nico said, his head thrown back in genuine amusement as he poured a generous amount of tequila into a line of shot glasses.

Nico, tall and lean with a cleaner more sophisticated mop of his own hair, chuckled as he sliced limes with practiced precision, his brown eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Dude, if we keep this up, we'll be carrying people to bed tonight," Nico remarked, raising an eyebrow at Quinn's heavy-handed pouring.

Quinn simply shrugged, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, it's not a real party until someone's not getting carried to bed." Y

/N chuckled softly to herself, shaking her head at their antics. Her gaze drifted to the living room, where Heather and Ang were sprawled out on the plush rug, their legs tucked beneath the dark wooden coffee table.

Heather bit her lip in concentration as she shuffled a stack of colorful cards while Ang leaned forward eagerly, her dark eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Ooh, I see some juicy dares in here," Ang sing-songed, waggling her perfectly arched eyebrows. "Tonight's gonna be wild."

Heather snorted, tossing a card back into the pile. "Please, you just want an excuse to make out with Jesper."

The soft, sultry beats of an R&B track drifted through the air, undoubtedly one of Luke's carefully curated playlists. Y/N felt a smile tug at her lips, the familiarity of the music and the easy camaraderie of her friends settling over her like a warm, comforting blanket.

She stepped fully into the room now, easily sliding behind ang and heather to sit on the plush cushions of the couch. Just as she began to get comfortable Quinn and Nico made their grand entrance, their voices echoing through the room as they carried the trays of drinks.

Quinn carefully set the tray down on the coffee table, the glasses clinking together melodically. Nico followed suit, his lean frame moving with an easy grace as he placed his own tray beside Quinn's. He straightened up, running a hand through his hair, and surveyed the room with a questioning gaze.

Quinn placed his hands on his hips, his brows furrowed in confusion as he took in the small gathering.

"Where is everyone?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. "I thought this was supposed to be a party."

Ang chuckled, her dark eyes sparkling with mirth as she leaned back on her hands. "Oh, I have a feeling the real fun is just about to begin," she said, her voice dripping with anticipation. "These truth or dare cards are no joke."

As if on cue, the sound of laughter and footsteps echoed from the hallway, signaling the arrival of the rest of their friends. Y/N felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach, knowing that the night was about to take an interesting turn.

Y/N reached for her glass, the cool condensation kissing her fingertips as she brought it to her lips. She took a sip, the sweet tang of the drink dancing on her tongue, and settled back into the couch.

Quinn's face split into a wide grin as he rubbed his hands together like a cartoonish villain. "Perfect timing," he declared, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Let the games begin." He rubbed his hands together with such enthusiasm that Nico had to duck to avoid getting smacked in the face. "Dude, watch the merchandise," Nico grumbled, smoothing his hair back into place.

Quinn opened his mouth to retort, but the words died on his lips as his jaw suddenly went slack. His eyes widened comically, and he froze, his hands still held up in mid-rub.

Y/N, Heather, and Ang exchanged confused glances before following his stunned gaze to the doorway. There, trailing just behind Luke's tall frame, was a familiar head of sleek blonde hair.

"Lexi?" Heather whispered, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. Quinn remained statue-still, his expression a mix of shock and something akin to terror. Y/N bit back a laugh, knowing exactly why Quinn was so thrown off balance.

Ang leaned over to Y/N, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Ten bucks says Quinn's trying to remember if he ever accidentally liked one of her thirst traps on Insta."

Y/N snorted, nearly choking on her drink. She couldn't help but feel a little bad for Quinn, but the sight of him standing there, frozen like a deer in headlights, was too hilarious not to enjoy.

Luke, oblivious to the tension, greeted the room with a broad smile. "Look who I ran into on the way out of the bar, we almost left her there!" He draped an arm casually over Lexi's shoulders, missing the way Quinn flinched at the action.

Lexi's cool blue eyes scanned the room, landing on Quinn with a predatory gleam. "Quinn," she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

As Lexi sauntered into the room, Quinn shot a panicked look at his friends, silently pleading for backup. Y/N, taking pity on him, stood up and clapped her hands together.

“Okay losers, we ready to play?”

…

The room erupted into cheers and whoops, effectively breaking the awkward tension. Quinn shot Y/N a grateful look, mouthing "thank you" as he quickly busied himself with distributing drinks. Y/N grinned, shaking her head in amusement.

As everyone began to settle into their seats, ready to start the game, the room suddenly fell silent. Y/N glanced up, curious about the sudden hush, and felt her jaw drop.

There, standing in the doorway, was Jack. And he looked absolutely delicious.

He was wearing a fitted black button up that clung to his toned chest and arms in all the right places, just the few top buttons left undone along with dark wash jeans that hugged his muscular legs. His light hair was artfully tousled, as if he'd just run his fingers through it, and his blue eyes sparkled.

Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth going dry as she openly stared at him. She knew she was probably drooling, but she couldn't help it. Jack was a vision, and she wanted nothing more than to drink in every inch of him.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, she wasn't the only one affected by Jack's entrance. Across the room, Lexi's blue eyes were raking over Jack's form, a predatory gleam in her gaze. She licked her lips, a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

Jack, seemingly oblivious to the attention he was garnering, scanned the room for a place to sit. His eyes landed on the empty spot beside Y/N, and he began to move towards her, a warm smile on his face. She threw her legs back onto the plush carpet, expectantly waiting for him to sit.

With a speed that seemed almost inhuman, Lexi leapt up from her seat and practically pounced on Jack. She grabbed his arm, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his bicep as she yanked him towards her.

"Jack!" she exclaimed, her voice sickly sweet. "Come sit with me!"

Before Jack could protest, Lexi had dragged him over to her spot, pushing him down onto the couch beside her. She immediately curled into his side, her hand resting possessively on his thigh.

Y/N felt a surge of jealousy course through her, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. She glared daggers at Lexi, silently fuming at the blonde's audacity.

Jack, for his part, looked mildly uncomfortable with Lexi's aggressive display of affection. He shot Y/N an apologetic look, his green eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing.

Y/N forced herself to take a deep breath, trying to quell the anger and disappointment swirling inside her. She plastered a smile on her face, determined not to let Lexi see how much her actions had affected her.

"Alright, let's get this game started!" Quinn declared, his voice overly bright.

Heather reached for the stack of truth cards, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. She plucked a card from the top and read it aloud, her voice wavering with nerves. "What's the most inappropriate place you've ever had a makeout session?" she read, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson.

The group erupted into a chorus of "ooh"s and whistles, everyone leaning in closer to hear Heather's answer. She bit her lip, her eyes darting around the room before finally settling on her lap.

"Um, well..." she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was at my grandparents' 50th anniversary party. In the coat closet."

The room exploded with laughter and gasps of shock. Ang clapped her hands together, her eyes wide with glee.

"Heather, you little minx!" she exclaimed, reaching over to give her friend a high five. Heather ducked her head, a small smile playing at her lips despite her embarrassment.

"Okay, okay, let's move on," she said, pointing to Quinn, signaling his turn. He quickly grabbed a dare card from the pile.

His eyes widened as he read the card, and he looked up at the group with an embarrassed grin. "Let the group choose someone to spank you five times.” He sighed out, annunciating the words. "Dawson, get over here” he stated.

Dawsons eyes widened, but he couldn't hide the small smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Alright, Quinn," he said, standing up and cracking his knuckles. "Bend over."

Quinn looked like he was about to pass out, but he slowly stood up and turned around, bracing himself against the back of the couch. Dawson stepped forward, his hand raised, and brought it down on Quinn's backside with a resounding smack.

He yelped, his face burning with humiliation as Dawson continued to spank him, each strike eliciting a new round of laughter from the group. By the time it was over Quinn was red-faced and panting. As he sat back down, wincing slightly, Lexi reached for the next dare card. She read it silently, her lips curving into a wicked smile, before looking up at the group.

"Kiss the person you find most attractive in the room on the lips," she read, her eyes immediately locking onto y/n’s before turning to Jack next to her. Y/N felt her stomach drop, a wave of jealousy and anger washing over her as she watched Lexi lean over to Jack.

Without hesitation, Lexi straddled his lap, her hands cupping his face as she leaned in and captured his lips in a deep, sensual kiss. Jack's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't push her away. Instead, he seemed to melt into the kiss, his hands coming up to rest on Lexi's hips as she continued to ravish his mouth.

Y/N could feel the heat of rage burning in her cheeks, her heart continued to hammer against her chest uncomfortably. She wanted nothing more than to march over there and rip Lexi off of Jack, to yell in jacks face on the man she'd just been kissing upstairs, of the man that’s taken her on dates every week since they fatefully crossed paths again.

But she forced herself to stay seated, her jaw clenched so tightly she thought her teeth might shatter. She watched as Lexi finally pulled away, a self-satisfied smirk on her face as she climbed off of Jack's lap and returned to her seat.

Jack looked dazed, his lips slightly swollen and his hair mussed from Lexi's fingers. Ang turned to Y/N, her eyes wide with shock and concern.

She could see the hurt and anger burning in her friend's eyes, and she reached out to give her hand a comforting squeeze. Y/N forced a small smile, silently thanking Ang for her support, before turning her attention back to the game.

As the night wore on, the drinks continued to flow, and the dares became increasingly more outrageous. Y/N found herself grateful for the distraction, throwing herself into the game with a newfound determination. She laughed and joked with Nico and Dawson, purposefully avoiding any interaction with Jack or Lexi.

Hours later, the room was filled with the sound of drunken laughter and slurred speech. Y/N, who had been pacing herself throughout the night, seemed to be the only one still relatively sober. She watched as her friends stumbled and swayed, their inhibitions lowered and their judgment clouded by the alcohol.

Feeling the need for a moment of solitude, Y/N slipped away from the group and made her way into the kitchen. She hopped up onto the counter, her legs dangling as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the swirling emotions inside her.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear Jack enter the room until he was standing right in front of her. Y/N's eyes snapped open, her heart skipping a beat as she took in his disheveled appearance.

His hair was a mess, his shirt wrinkled and untucked, and his eyes were glazed with a mix of intoxication and something else Y/N couldn't quite place.

"Y/N..." he began, his words slightly slurred. "I... I need to talk to you."

Y/N felt her chest tighten, a mix of anger and longing warring within her. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, a voice called her name from the other room.

"Y/N! Come on, we're playing another round!" Quinn shouted, his words followed by a chorus of drunken cheers.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, torn between her desire to hear what Jack had to say and her need to escape the uncomfortable situation. In the end, her pride won out, and she slid off the counter, brushing past Jack without a word.

She stalked over to the table where Quinn had set up a new round of drinks, without hesitation, she grabbed a glass and downed its contents in one gulp, relishing the burn of the alcohol as it slid down her throat.

She reached for another, and then another, her mind growing fuzzy as the drinks began to take effect. She could feel Jack's eyes on her from across the room, but she refused to meet his gaze, instead focusing on the laughter and chatter of her friends.

the night blurred into a haze of drunken revelry, Y/N found herself letting go of her inhibitions, her anger and hurt temporarily forgotten in the chaos of the moment. She danced and sang, her laughter mixing with the others as they lost themselves in the heady rush of alcohol and adrenaline.

But even as she let herself get swept up in the madness, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something had shifted between her and Jack, that the events of the night had set into motion a chain reaction that she was powerless to stop.

…

Y/N stumbled out of the house, the cool night air hitting her flushed skin like a refreshing balm. She inhaled deeply, the scent of pine and lake water filling her lungs as she made her way towards the shore.

The moon hung heavy in the sky, its silvery light casting an ethereal glow over the rippling water. Y/N kicked off her shoes, not caring where they landed as she waded into the shallows.

The water was cool against her skin, sending a shiver up her spine as she moved deeper, until she was waist-deep in the inky depths.

It was only then, with the muffled sounds of the party fading behind her and the vast expanse of the lake stretching out before her, that Y/N allowed herself to break.

The tears she had been holding back all night spilled down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she tilted her head back to the sky.

"Why did you do this?" she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "Am I not good enough for any man?"

The moon stared back at her, silent and unblinking, offering no answers to her desperate pleas. Y/N felt a surge of anger rise within her, her hands clenching into fists beneath the water's surface.

She thought back to all the moments she and Jack had shared, the laughter and the dates, the stolen touches. Had it all been a lie? A cruel game he had been playing, stringing her along while he pined after her best friend?

"If he wanted her, he should have just told me," she choked out, her vision blurring with fresh tears. "Instead of making me think that maybe, just maybe, he could feel something for me too."

She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold together the pieces of her shattered heart. She had been so sure that Jack was different, that he saw her for who she truly was.

But now, with the image of him kissing Lexi burned into her mind, she couldn't help but question everything. "Was it all a lie?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves.

The thought was too painful to bear, and Y/N felt her knees buckle beneath her. She sank into the water, letting it engulf her as she cried, her tears mingling with the cool, dark depths. She didn't know how long she stayed there, her body racked with sobs as she poured out her pain to the uncaring moon.

But eventually, her tears ran dry, and she was left feeling hollow and numb, the anger and hurt giving way to a dull, aching emptiness.

Slowly, she rose from the water, her clothes clinging to her body as she made her way back to the shore. She knew she couldn't stay out here forever, that eventually she would have to face Jack and the rest of her friends.

…

133 notes · View notes