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daisynik7 · 11 months

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Give You Blue

Chapter 4: Alone Together

Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)

Rating: Explicit (for mature content)

cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Eren is in 3rd), angst, language, a bit of fluff

Word Count: ~5.7k

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Summary: You and Annie attend a dinner at the Mu Phi sorority house on campus. Reiner, on his way out of Delta Delta, ambushes you on the walk back to your dorm for a less than pleasant conversation. Later that week, RA Eren hosts a game-night for his fellow residents. But, with it being on a Friday right after midterms, he's disappointed when it flops. Fortunately, someone comes to his rescue. Author’s Notes: Hope you enjoy this one! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated. Please let me know what you think, I thrive off of reading your comments! If you want to be tagged in any future chapters, please let me know! Divider created by @/mikeykuns.

“Eren, are you paying attention?”

Armin waves his hands in front of his friend’s face, snapping Eren out of whatever reverie he’s stuck in. He shakes his head slightly, grinning. “Sorry, Armin. Sort of zoned out for a minute there.” They sit next to each other on Eren’s bed, watching a movie on his laptop. It’s Saturday night, and Eren actually agreed to be social today.

Armin taps on the space bar, pausing the film. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Are you sure you’re getting enough sleep?”

The real answer is no, but with Armin, he’ll only worry if he knows the truth. “Plenty. All eight hours,” Eren lies. In reality, he’s getting four hours tops. He stays up late studying, then spends the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed, anxious about the future.

Oblivious, Armin responds happily. “Good! Living by yourself is already paying off. Sometimes I wish I could have my own space. The frat house can get pretty noisy, especially with Connie as a roommate.” He chuckles, reaching towards the bag of chips between them.

“Connie’s a blast to be around, though. I’m sure you’re having fun.”

“Yeah, I am. You should really come by the house.”

“Maybe. When I have time.” In all honestly, he has no intention of stepping foot in that frat house. Not because he has a disdain for Greek life; but because it’ll only show him what he’s missing out on. He already feels that way whenever he catches up with Mikasa and Armin, both thoroughly enjoying their college experience still.

Mikasa returns from the bathroom, hopping on the bed to squeeze next to Eren. “What did I miss?”

“We ended up pausing the movie anyways, so not much.” Armin passes the snacks to Mikasa, who throws a handful into her mouth.

They continue the movie, Eren’s mind drifting into space again. He’s already thinking about the upcoming chemistry midterm next week, how he hasn’t fully memorized the amino acids and their structures yet. And how he has to schedule a date to meet with Hange Zoë, a senior doing research in the lab, to see if he can shadow her for a month. On top of that, he’s planning on hosting a small event at the dorms, something to help his residents let off some steam after exams. It’s all too much. He wants to sleep and pretend that none of these obligations exist.

The credits roll on his computer screen. He blinks, fully unaware of what transpired during the movie. His friends hang around for a few more minutes before leaving to head to a party somewhere else on campus. Once again, he’s alone.

He is not motivated to study tonight, already burnt out from the last couple of days. Instead, he practices his electric guitar, working on a particular riff of this song he likes, replaying it over and over through his headphones. He loses himself in the music for a while, the closest thing to an escape that he can reproduce inside his own bedroom. Fingers sore from picking and strumming, he decides to call it a night. Face washed and teeth brushed, he snuggles under the covers, glancing at his phone. 11:00 PM. Wild night, he thinks to himself, laughing.

Suddenly, his brother’s name flashes across the screen. “Zeke?”

“Eren, hey. You’re not sleeping already, are you?”

“Nah. But I’m in bed.”

“On a Saturday night?”

“Yep.”

Zeke chuckles heartily. “Oh boy. I can already hear it in your voice. Welcome to the club, little brother. Your descent into med school hell is starting.”

“Yay, can’t wait,” Eren responds sarcastically. “Anyways, what’s up?”

“I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Clearly not well.”

“I’ve been better.” He keeps his answer vague on purpose. With Zeke, he doesn’t go into too much detail with the emotions he’s experiencing. As much as he respects his older brother, the two of them don’t always see eye-to-eye. While Eren usually acts out of emotion, sometimes to a fault, Zeke is detached, unable to empathize with what his younger brother is struggling with.

“Is dad still giving you a hard time? I heard he wasn’t happy with your last quiz grade.”

Eren ignores the urge to ask how he knows about that, already aware that they talk about him behind his back. “I told him it was weighted, so technically I passed.”

“Well, you know how the old man is. Technicalities don’t really matter to him.”

He rolls his eyes, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, almost regretting picking up this call. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying you should study harder.”

He’s fighting to keep his cool, his body tense with anger. Before he loses it, he mutters through gritted teeth, “Okay, thanks. I actually gotta go now, bye.”

“Eren, I’m just trying to help – ”

He doesn’t wait for Zeke to finish his sentence, already tapping on the red button to end the call. Now, with his mood ruined, he’s not sure if he can fall asleep. He wishes it was still daylight, specifically the golden hour when the sun sets. It would be the perfect time to head to his favorite spot: the beach that overlooks the shimmering expanse of blue ocean water separating Paradis and Marley. He discovered this area recently, on one of his drives that he takes to temporarily escape. It brings him peace, even if the moment is fleeting.

Instead, he scrolls through his contacts, tapping on his mom’s name, holding the phone back up to his ear. When her familiar voice greets him on the other line, the tears start flowing and he spends the next half hour confiding in her.

~~~

You and Reiner cuddle in bed, his nose nuzzled to the back of your neck, spooning you. Bertolt is home for the weekend, leaving the room to yourselves.

“Coco, are you still awake?”

You hum, snuggling closer to him, on the verge of sleep. He swallows hard behind you, as if he’s nervous. “I think I want to live in the fraternity house next semester.”

This gets your attention. Surprised, you turn around to face him. “What?”

“It’ll help me bond with my brothers better.”

“But we were supposed to live together.” The two of your agreed quite early in the semester that you would live together in one of the on-campus apartments. This news comes to you as a shock, since he’s never mentioned wanting to live on Greek Row, until now.

“I just want to try it out for a year, baby. When we’re juniors, we can find our own place off campus, so we can do whatever we want.” He pulls you closer, kissing your forehead. “Everything is going to work out, okay? You can wait a year, right?”

Of course you can wait; that’s what he asks you of, so you’ll do it. But you don’t want to. You had all these exciting ideas laid out in your head: cooking meals together, relaxing on the couch in each other’s arms, being alone without worrying about parents or roommates barging in on the two of you. Being together all the time.

“Coco, say something.”

It’s easy to get upset. Make a fuss and yell at him for being selfish. Simultaneously, you feel guilty for thinking this way, like you’re the bad girlfriend for disagreeing with it. For wanting him all to yourself.

“Okay,” you finally respond. “I’ll ask Annie if she wants to live together again, I guess.” It’s a compromise for the sake of making him happy. Because more than anything, you want him to be happy.

He smiles, kissing you on the lips. “You’re the best, you know that? I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You wake up, back in your own bed, Annie’s soft snores filling the quiet of the room. A quick glance at your phone shows you it’s only 4 AM in the morning. It’s been a few days since you dreamt about Reiner, a new record since the break-up. Still, whenever you do, it hurts as much as it did the first night.

He never warned you about wanting to move into the fraternity house. It came out of nowhere, a total and complete blindside, much like when he broke up with you. He’s been this way for a while, making rash decisions and springing it on you without a mention of it beforehand. You always end up going along with it, forcing yourself to accept it without disagreement. You never could stand up for yourself, thinking it was less hassle to bend for him than to argue about it. When you’re with someone for so long, the easy road seems the obvious choice, compared to one that has bumps and cracks along the way. But just because it’s easy, doesn’t mean it’s better; it doesn’t always lead you to the right destination. And maybe that’s why you are where you are now: lost.

It’s been almost two weeks since you saw him on that rainy day. Two weeks since he sent you that text message, which remains unanswered. There’s been moments where you stared at the screen, fingers ghosting the keyboard, wanting to send him a reply. Somehow, you’ve resisted those temptations. In the end, it’ll only lead to more heartache. The memories haven’t kept you up at night as much as it did before. Thankfully, your sleep schedule is back to normal, except for nights like this. You’re doing better each day. Annie’s two words to you are on constant loop in your head: Baby steps. Any progress, no matter how little or big, is still progress. As long as you don’t go backwards into a downward spiral.

Later in the week, Annie extends an invitation to eat dinner at one of the sorority houses on campus, Mu Phi. Hitch, a close friend, is a sister who currently lives there. As you approach Greek Row with your roommate, you look at the Delta Delta house right next door, wondering if Reiner is there, working as their hasher tonight. Possibly flirting with Christa or other sisters that surely find him attractive. You let the insecurities fade as soon as you knock on the door to Mu Phi, soon greeted by Hitch and two other friendly sisters. They lead you into the dining room, chatting about various topics, subtlety sneaking in how great sorority life is, asking if you’ve ever been interested. After all, they are constantly in recruitment mode, which doesn’t bother you. It feels nice to be desired.

During the meal, the conversations continue. Annie, being the secret gossip she is, mentions the neighbors. You briefly described to her your run-in with Reiner and Christa, so naturally, she’s been curious since. “What’s it like living next to them?”

Hitch replies, “It’s fine. Did you know that Mikasa’s a Delta Delta?”

“Really? She rushed? I guess they can’t be all bad,” Annie muses.

Hitch eyes her with an amused smirk on her face. “Why would you say that? Who’s in there that you don’t like?”

Before Annie can respond, you interrupt, not wanting to spread any unwarranted gossip. “She’s joking. By the way, who’s Mikasa?”

“She’s this girl that attends Annie’s kickboxing class.”

Annie adds, “She’s also our RA’s sister.”

“Eren?”

She nods, confirming. His appearance around the dorms has lessened, possibly because of the upcoming midterms. He is a pre-med major after all, so you’re certain he’s too busy studying to be out and about. You wished you could have seen his face when he received the bag full of Pocky you bought for him, as thanks for sharing his umbrella on that rainy day. “I didn’t know he has a sister.”

“She’s adopted, from what I heard,” Hitch comments. “But they’re super close. Her, Eren, and Armin.”

At that third name, you glance at Annie, a slight blush creeping on her cheeks. She had a class with Armin last semester, and they were paired up for a big project. From then on, your roommate has been smitten with him, but she’ll never admit it out loud. You also recognize the name as one of Reiner’s pledge brothers from the same fraternity, though you’ve never met him personally. Knowing he’s close to Eren already gives you the impression that he’s a nice guy.

The dinner ends with a tour of the house, not including the exclusive sleeping porch on the top floor, where all the sisters are forced to slumber beside each other. Right outside the entrance, you, Hitch, and Annie talk for a little while longer until your roommate announces, “My shift at the library is starting, so I have to leave now. Thanks for dinner Hitch!”

The three of you say your goodbyes, Hitch waving farewell from the door, you and Annie parting ways in opposite directions. It’s a clear sky tonight, the moon glowing brightly in the vast darkness, littered with barely visible stars. You take your time walking, enjoying the pleasantly cool air, admiring the other houses along Greek Row. From behind, a familiar voice calls out to you. “Coco.”

Before you face him, you curse under your breath, aware of exactly who it is. You find Reiner several feet away from you, presumably from the Delta Delta house. His fraternity is in the opposite direction, so he must have spotted you from afar, maybe heard you talking outside. You stand in place, waiting for him to catch up to you, ambushed.

“Hey,” he says, with a sheepish grin.

You nod stiffly, unsure what to do next. It’s too late to make a run for it. Impossible to turn back the clock and sprint your way across campus. You should have known better, especially when you already assumed he’d be working there tonight. It doesn’t matter now; you’re trapped.

“Are you heading back to your dorm?” he asks, hands in his pockets.

You nod once more, voice stuck in your throat, unable to speak.

“I’ll walk with you.” It’s not a question or a suggestion. It’s final. He’s determined to do it.

Reluctant, you let him, pivoting on your heel towards the direction of your dorm, remaining silent. He stays beside you, hands in his pocket, glancing at you hesitantly. “What were you doing at Mu Phi?”

So he did notice you first. Eyes focused on the ground, you answer, “Hitch invited us for dinner.”

“Christa also invited you, remember? To the Delta Delta house.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” You don’t mean to sound venomous; well, maybe you do. Why bother bringing that up?

“I’m just reminding you. She’s really nice, you know.”

You snap, annoyed and frustrated. “Yes, Reiner, I’m sure she is very nice. That’s why I think she’d understand why I refuse to go to that house for dinner.”

“Because of me?”

“Of course it’s because of you!”

He sighs, scratching his arm excessively. Something he does when he’s anxious. “I don’t understand why you’ve been ignoring me. I thought we agreed to be friends. You won’t even respond to my texts. How am I supposed to know that you’re okay?”

“Okay? You want to know if I’m okay? Reiner, I haven’t been okay since the day you broke up with me.”

“That’s why I’m trying to talk to you.”

You scoff, blood boiling. “You’re the last person I want to talk to. You’re the reason I’m not okay. You broke my heart.” It’s a cheap shot to blame him, but that’s what you do. Fire everything in your arsenal to defend yourself, to hurt him.

His expression turns sullen at your harsh words. “I couldn’t be your boyfriend anymore. It’s fucked up, I know. But I did what I thought was right. I didn’t want to string you along.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way? Why didn’t you talk to me about it? We tell each other everything. Why keep this away from me?”

He chews on his lip, nervous. “I was scared, okay? Really scared to lose you. I thought if I started talking about it, you’d break up with me and hate me forever. I wasn’t ready for that.”

You process this, not sure how you truly feel about it. On the one hand, you understand the fear of losing the most important person in your life. That’s what you two are to each other. Well, were. On the other hand, it isn’t fair that he makes decisions when he’s ready. What about you?

You arrive outside your dorm building, standing feet away from each other, your arms crossed over your chest, protecting your heart. When you don’t respond, he continues. “I care about you, Coco. You’re my best friend. You’re the most important person in my life.”

“You say that now, but eventually, somebody else will come along. Then what?”

Quietly, he replies, “I don’t know.”

You have to stand up for yourself. Hit him with the bitter truth even if it makes him uncomfortable. You’ve gone far too long agreeing to what he wants, following his plan, sacrificing your sanity to protect him. You don’t owe him anything. He decided to dump you when he was ready. That gives you free reign to do the same. “I don’t want to be a placeholder for whenever the next person comes along. Do you understand how painful that is? To know I’m temporary? I can’t be the most important person in your life. Not like this. That’s why we can’t be friends.”

He stares at you, dumbfounded that you won’t concede to him. Disappointed that he can’t get what he wants this time, after so many years of doing so. This is what it’s like to have control, to stick up for yourself. Maybe there is some good to come out of this breakup.

After a while, Reiner speaks, voice trembling, eyes glistening. “You can’t do this to me, Coco. I still…I still love – ”

“Don’t say it. Do not fucking say it.” You cover your ears, as if that will prevent your brain from finishing the rest of that sentence in your head.

“I mean it, though. No matter what happens between us. I want you in my life.”

“Why is everything about what you want? Have you ever considered what I want?” You begin to pace back and forth on the pavement, arms jittery, increasingly erratic.

A little louder now, a tinge of arrogance in his tone, he says, “We’ve known each other our whole lives. Pretty sure I have a good idea about what you want.”

“Well, you don’t. It’s different now. You don’t know me just as much as I don’t know you.”

“How can you say this right now? You’re just going to throw us away?!”

“You did it first!” you yell at him, tears streaming down your cheeks.

He steps towards you, hands in a desperate prayer, begging. “I don’t want to lose you. Please, Coco. I need you. I need you.” It’s the magic words that he so expertly chants to you. The ones that tug at your heartstrings, make you weak in the knees. And for a second, you consider taking everything back. Reach out and hold him, forget about the pain you’ve suffered these past two months and agree to be friends. Because you’d do anything to see him happy again. For this to be a long nightmare and to wake up together, perfectly back to normal.

But you don’t. And only because the entrance to your building suddenly swings open, revealing Eren at the door, inspecting the scene with a concerned expression on his face. “Is everything okay out here?”

Reiner glares at him for the interruption. “Who are you?”

Eren steps towards you, glancing at you and Reiner. “I’m Eren, the RA for this building. Heard some yelling and thought I should check it out.”

“Reiner is leaving now,” you murmur, avoiding Eren’s gaze, embarrassed. “I’m sorry for the commotion.” You turn to head inside, not bothering to wave goodbye to your ex, who stands there, watching you. Eren follows, sneaking glances at Reiner before swiping his ID at the door to let you both in.

“Coco,” he calls out. “Please.”

You ignore him, wiping your tears with the back of your shaky hands, listening to the door shut behind you.

“Are you okay?” Eren asks, voice calm.

You face him, forcing a weak smile, eyes still wet. “Perfectly fine.” You turn to hurry into your room, overwhelmed and wanting to hide in the safety of your bed forever.

Before you can, he grabs you gently by the hand, thumb brushing your knuckles. “If you ever need to talk or anything, my door is always open for you.”

You mutter a timid, “Thank you,” then rush down the hall and into your room, heart pounding against your chest. His comforting words replay in your head, trying to replace all that was said between you and Reiner.

~~~

At the end of the week, Eren hosts a game night in the common room of the dorm building. He’s excited to bond with his residents with pizza from his favorite local Italian joint and some good old-fashioned Mario Kart. He lays the food out on the table and sets up his Nintendo console to the TV, the familiar opening sequence playing on the screen. Then, he patiently waits for his first guest. Fifteen minutes pass and still no one shows up. Where is everybody?

At the thirty-minute mark, he lays down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. The pizzas are surely lukewarm now, and the same tune playing on the TV is starting to grate on his ears. He texts Mikasa and Armin, complaining about the complete lack of attendees. Immediately, he gets a call from his sister. When he picks up, she states, “Eren, nobody is there because it’s the Friday night after midterms.”

“So?”

“People are getting ready to party. That’s what I’m doing, that’s what Armin is doing. That’s what everyone is doing.”

Someone in the background yells, “Tell him to come out with us!” It’s Sasha’s voice.

He groans, realizing his mistake. “I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not. Just come out with us. You deserve a break.”

He considers it for a few seconds, before he replies, “Thanks, but I’m gonna head to bed.”

Sasha boos him. “C’mon, Eren! Join us! It’ll be fun!”

“I’m tired, Sash. Next time.”

Believing she can’t be heard, she whispers to Mikasa, “He always says that.” Well, she’s not wrong.

Eren bids farewell to his friends, wishing them fun tonight. He lays on the couch for a while longer, trying to not to be too devastated at this failure of an event. Finally standing up, he heads to the table to begin packing.

“Am I too late?”

He turns around, surprised by her voice. The resident from down the hall, Room 104. The girl he’s seen cry at least three times now, the most recent being earlier in the week, outside the dorms. A small confrontation with the guy who Eren assumes is her ex, the cause behind all the tears. He was hoping to run into her soon, to check if she’s doing alright. He’s delighted to find her standing in the doorway, a small smile on her face.

“Hey,” he greets, waving at her. She steps towards him, inspecting the plethora of food on the table. He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “You’re the first person to show up, so we have plenty of food.”

She gives him a sympathetic look, opening the pizza box to grab a slice. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

He grins. “Hey, you’re here, aren’t you? That’s all that matters to me.”

As she settles in on the couch with her food, she explains, “I would have come earlier, but I was helping Annie get ready for a party.”

Eren takes the seat beside her, dropping a piece of pepperoni into his mouth. “I guess everyone really is going out tonight,” he muses, recalling what Mikasa told him earlier.

“Well, not everyone,” she reminds him, smiling. His chest swells with warmth seeing this side of her. Eyes free of tears, cheeks rounded with happiness, relaxed in his presence. He secretly resents Reiner, or whatever that guy’s name is, for putting her through all the misery she’s had to suffer.

They eat their pizza, chatting about arbitrary topics like favorite toppings, best local restaurants around the town, even a silly bet about who will beat who in a race. The upbeat melody of the Mario Kart intro still playing in the background is no longer annoying now that Eren has company.

One box only halfway finished, they wipe their hands clean of pizza grease to start the game, picking their favorite characters. Eren always opts for Yoshi, because of course he’s got to get the green dinosaur. She selects Toad, going on about how adorable she finds him, doing a decent impersonation of his high-pitched, bouncy voice, causing Eren to bust out laughing. They race, moving their bodies along with their controllers, bumping elbows and shoulders with bright smiles on their faces. She nudges him in the ribs when he tosses a red shell at her, knocking her off the course to take first place. He taps her knee with his when he slips on a banana peel she strategically lays out for him. It’s competitive, but not serious, both of them gloating and teasing one another at their victories. After going through most of the courses, they play battle mode, teaming up together to destroy CPUs on the most difficult levels.

After exhausting most of the game to their heart’s contents, Eren checks his phone, shocked that it’s already past 11 o’clock. He glances at her, checking if she’s ready to leave once they shut down the game. She remains beside him, her attention focused on the piano in the corner of the room. Pointing at it, she asks, “We have a piano in here?”, clearly never noticing it before.

He chuckles. “Yeah we do. Do you play?”

She shakes her head, standing up to approach it, sitting on one side of the bench. He follows her, taking his place next to her. It’s only now that he realizes how close they’ve been all night. His heart starts to beat faster for some reason.

Finger at a key, she presses on it, filling the room with a very out-of-tune C-note. “Do you play?” she asks.

“Not much, just the basics really. I’m better at guitar.”

“Acoustic?”

“Electric,” he answers, resting his hand on the piano, hovering his fingers over a chord.

“Electric guitar is so cool. I’d love to hear you play sometime.” It’s an innocent suggestion. But for whatever reason, Eren is shy about the idea of her being inside his room, watching him play his guitar. And for a split second, he imagines what other activities they can do with each other, in the privacy of his bedroom. He catches himself, mentally waving away the potentially inappropriate thoughts.

Desperate to change the subject, he suggests, “Want me to teach you something?”

She nods, eager to learn. He starts his thumb on a C-note. “This is a C-major scale. It starts here,” he presses down, wincing at how out of tune it is. “And then you follow through with the rest of your fingers. That’s a very basic scale, without complicating it too much.”

She does it easily, smiling at the keys in front of her. “Now can you teach me Moonlight Sonata?” she jokes.

He laughs. “How about Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star instead?”

“Fine,” she says, fake pouting. She’s really cute.

By midnight, she’s perfected the lullaby, enough for the two of them to sing along to it. Even with the notes out of tune, it’s still pleasant to listen to. He then shows her how to play the easiest version of Heart & Soul, a fun duet they manage to practice together within the hour. She’s a quick learner, which he appreciates. After their performance, she looks at him, smiling. “You’re a really good teacher.”

He brushes his fingers along the keys. “That was my dream job growing up. I always wanted to be a teacher.”

“A music teacher?”

“No, an elementary school science teacher,” he admits. “Thought it’d be so cool to blow their minds with little experiments or facts about the living things.” He stares distantly, a longing grin on his face, fantasizing an imaginary world where he’s pursuing a career he enjoys.

“So, what made you want to become a doctor instead?”

At this point, he’s speaking candidly, no longer worried about hiding the truth. He’s comfortable with her. “My dad. He’s a doctor, and it’s pretty much expected of me.”

“Are you enjoying it so far?”

“No, but at the end of the day, I’ll be helping people. And that’s what matters right?”

There’s a small pause in the conversation as she pushes on one of the keys, the note ringing out in the temporary quiet. “Teachers help people too. More than what society gives them credit for. And besides, no one wants to go to a doctor who isn’t happy being a doctor, right?”

He faces her, processing her statement. “I guess I never thought about that.”

She continues, drumming her fingers lightly on the piano. “You shouldn’t force yourself to do something you don’t want to. If there’s anything I’ve learned these past few months, it’s that forcing yourself to be happy doesn’t actually make you happy. It’s silly to say that out loud, like it’s so obvious. But I’ve made a lot of excuses, pretending I was fine with decisions made on my behalf without my feelings being considered. It was always easier to go along with it, avoid confrontation or an argument. But at what cost? Sacrificing my own happiness? It isn’t worth it, especially when it’s your life that you’re living, nobody else’s.”

This is about her ex. There’s a strong urge to ask her about it, offer a lending ear to listen to what else is on her mind. But he doesn’t question it further. The words she speaks to him resonate. Although they’re both going through different struggles in their lives, she understands him better than he expects her to. Maybe more than anyone in his circle of friends right now.

“I have a friend who’s an education major. Erwin Smith. His dad is also a teacher. I can give you his contact info if you want to talk to him?” she offers.

“I don’t know,” he responds hesitantly. He’s never considered changing his major. He can already picture the faces his father makes, disdainful and disappointment at his son “downgrading” his career.

“It doesn’t hurt to have it, right? Just in case?”

He thinks about it carefully before he eventually relents, whipping his phone out to type out the information she recites to him. She’s right; it doesn’t hurt to have it. It doesn’t mean anything.

Phone still in his hand, he abruptly blurts out, “We should exchange numbers.” Almost instantly, he regrets it, aware at how inappropriate that would be. But when she grins at him, nodding, he’s immediately relieved.

“I’m assuming this will be your personal number and not your RA emergency line?” she smirks.

Laughing, he confirms, “Yes, my personal number. I, um, enjoyed hanging out with you tonight. We should definitely do this again.” He passes her his phone as she does the same.

“You’re teaching me Moonlight Sonata next, remember?” she jokes, tapping her number into his screen.

“Yeah, of course.”

She slips her phone back into her pocket. “Also, if you ever need someone to talk to or listen to you, I’m just down the hall.”

“Hey, that’s supposed to be my line,” he teases, nudging her elbow with his.

“Well, you’ve helped me out way more than you know, so I want to do the same for you. Rely on me, okay? We’re friends now.”

Outside the room, students begin to stumble through the hall, back from their night of partying. Eren checks his phone, surprised to read 1:35 AM on the screen. “It’s already past 1. I’m sorry for keeping you up.”

“Don’t be. I wanted to be here with you. Thank you for hosting this.”

“Thank you for being the only person to show up.”

They gaze at each other, smiling. He wants to stay like this a little while longer, but he knows it has to end. At least, for tonight. They’re friends now, and he’ll be able to enjoy that warm, vibrant smile more often, he hopes.

“Anyways, we should probably sleep soon,” she suggests, glancing at the pizza boxes on the table. “I’ll help you clean up.”

“Thanks. Maybe we can hand some of these out. I bet someone out there has the munchies right now.”

She giggles. “Great idea, Mr. RA.”

They tidy up, clearing the room of trash and putting away the video game console back in Eren’s knapsack. She carries it with her while Eren balances the pizzas in his hands, offering a box to the passing residents that are not-so-discreetly drunk. By the time they make it to his room, he’s only got one left, deeming the event an overall success. Especially now that he’s made a friend from it.

She sets the bag down on the floor, watching him unlock the door. “I guess this is goodnight,” she says, giving him a small wave as she begins to step backwards down the hall, facing him.

“Yeah. I guess it is. Sweet dreams, okay?”

“Sweet dreams, Eren,” she repeats, turning on her heel to walk to her room.

~~~

You lay in bed, listening to Annie’s drunken snores beside you, mind focused on your new friend Eren. Snuggling closer to your pillow, you smile to yourself, happy for the first time in what feels like forever. It’s the most fun you’ve had this semester, and most importantly, it’s the longest you’ve gone without sulking about Reiner.

It’s in this moment that you realize the baby steps you’ve taken so far don’t seem so small anymore. Things are finally starting to look up.

Taglist:

@batafuraikisu @bloompompom @monirei @filunara @katestrophes @ichinosejager13 @hoperenae @zellskz @e-ayyy @liliorsstuff-blog @maliakealoha @holdmeclosebutdontloveme @chrollohearttags @sailorputa @squickkk @dnyllmh @hellomeow12 @s-cream-ing @potofstewie @conniesbbymama @erzascarlett28 @lem-hhn @roronoazorosbxtchh @ichigostrawberry15 @rhaelrence @lilshades @bigmoodyjoody @icansmellsouls @aangsupremacy @ashsauroras @bakuhoes-bxtch @mrs-wolfwood @si-kamo @jmtherula @imaddicted-b @monkemanjeager @neesiewrote @large-juice @chiinni @belovedackerman

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shapard · 27 days

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Thorned 🥀

Human!Lucifer x fem!reader

Zombie Apocalypse Au

Writing the first words of a story really is a pain in the ass sometimes.

mention of SA and gore (English is not my first Language so errors ahead!)

And here I am to feed y'all another Lucifer x reader!!

In the Closet

Chapter 1 > Chapter 2

It should’ve been a normal school day in your boring life. You are a silent nerd student in college just trying to survive with all the college bills.

Your parents aren't very supportive nor did they care about you. So, you moved out of your parents house trying to make something out of yourself.

And let's just say your mother wasn't pleased with the news and declined all your calls.

Not even your father bothers to get in contact with you. When you do get lucky he just shrugs you off and says he is busy.

Clearly a complete lie.

Your head laid on the desk not caring what the Professor is saying right now.

Your life is pretty boring. No romance, no drama and no friends. Not that you mind. You're here for a good education rather than a tragic love story.

Your mind was drifting somewhere else and thinking about the rent you must pay. It was a struggle you wished you don’t have to face.

Beside college you worked in two other part time jobs which drained you completely out. No private time or going out.

High school was the only time where you went out partying and met your ex-boyfriend. He was toxic and very self-centered.

A loud scream caught your attention. Your eyes travelled down towards the tumult that started outside.

The Pick me girl from the upper class was screaming and pressing her hand tight on her mouth. Your eyebrows raised in question, even though she is the pick me girl she never reacted this terrified?

There was screaming, gasping and sound of metal meating flesh.

Interested you watched the scenery as the girl got jumped by a guy. Shocked you saw how that guy, or rather that thing, ate her face bit by bit. Your heart felt like sliding down to your stomach, you wanted to puke.

Her new boyfriend swung a baseball bat onto the monster. The bloody tone that played when blood started to burst out was disgusting.

It made you sick to the stomach.

This is different than any movie or series you watched. This is real. No actor playing a role and no CGI.

Soon enough alarm sirens rang through the town and in the college. You tried to keep a cool outside but the panic inside you was immense. The whole classroom was screaming and some even had panic attacks.

This type of reaction wasn’t helping at all.

In your whole life of existence, you’ve never imagined that this could be really happening.

A Zombie Apocalypse.

You’ve seen it in movies and Series but never have you imagined that it really would happen.

The Professor closed the door and told you all to wait till the police comes and handle the little situation. But help never came.

You pulled out your half-charged phone hoping that the news would report that the government can handle this. All you saw was that the Police departments were under attack, and almost no one survived.

The whole city was on lockdown. And you were hiding in your classroom with your classmates.

The professor never came back. He probably died in the chaos at the own hands from his students who are just trying to protect themselves. or by Zombies.

Now the classroom seems like a save place but for days, weeks maybe even years (when you’re still alive) you knew that escaping the college is the safest idea.

Searching in the classroom for any weapon that could help you found a dissecting knife. You took it fast into your position before anyone can take it from you.

The classroom was quiet, too quiet. Like the calm before the storm.

You must find a better weapon than the small dissecting knife that’s used for surgeries or inspections on dead animals.

Most likely you wouldn’t find a weapon here in the classroom.

Your eyes shifted towards the door that has been locked, in hope none of those creatures would come here. It was a fake feeling of safety.

Everyone knows what a zombie is. But these are different. The way they move, the way they ate and who knows how they are created? Maybe a bite isn’t the only thing that transforms someone into a zombie.

A loud crashing sound made you snap out of your thoughts, and you looked at one of your classmates attacking one of your ex-friends.

Everyone watched in horror and didn’t knew what to do for themselves. The screams pierced your ear and the other didn't move an inch.

Without wasting time, you ran to the locked door and jumped with full force in the hard wood door. You have to escape and watching a slaughter isn’t the way how you’re going to die.

The pain from the harsh compact against the door didn’t stop you. You will not give up and most likely will not die in here.

Your classmates were watching how you were trying to open an escape but didn’t try to help you.

They were afraid that if they move that the zombie attack.

Your friend laid there in full display; half of the face is eaten away by the monstress being.

Your bone cracked slightly, you hissed in pain but continued. The adrenaline was pushing you to things you never thought you'd do. The pain only fueled more Adrenaline into your system.

Your heart raced a mile per minute. Your body heated up and you swung your body every time harsher against the wood surface.

Your skin, flesh and bone begged for a break, but you pushed your body against your limits. The door whined in protest as you lunged your body another time against it.

The door burst open, and the blood covered college hall came in your view.

You stumbled forward when your other classmates ran against you, the others almost walked all over you.

Your hands covered your body hoping it'll protect you from getting stepped over.

Assholes.

You looked up from the floor, your breath hitched as you looked at your dead Professor. In the middle of the floor there laid your professor in a pool of blood.

Karma hit the guy that rammed against you in full force. Your professor raised and lunged at the defenseless boy.

His screams were unbearable to hear. The anxiety in your body only grows every second.

You wanted it all to stop.

You sat in the middle of the chaos, your skirt you chose to wear today was soaked completely with blood.

You watched helplessly how your class clown got eaten in the most disgusting way.

The zombie lunged towards his body as if he searched something, something that he misses. But what could that be?

The zombie clawed with his short nails into the skin ripping the e guys fully open. Your body trembled under the disgusting sight.

As the professor seemed to not find what he was looking for, his body shifted to your direction.

His arms stretched out wanting to grab you, and a sound escaped him, a terrifying one.

Your body didn’t move as panic started to settle in, you’re the next to die. Tears started to burn their way in your eyes.

You are terrified.

His other arm was ripped off and he was still bleeding. But the zombie professor couldn't care less. A lifeless body who was searching for something desperate.

A bloody sight you wanted to look away from but couldn’t.

A hand clasped around yours and pulled you up on your feet. You were being dragged across the college, you stumbled a couple of times but never fell.

Your gaze never left your professor though as you ran through the red painted halls. As he wasn’t in your sight anymore you looked at your savior just to see your ex-boyfriend.

Striker.

“Are you okay sweetie?” His deep voice was irritating for you and brought flashbacks from your relationship.

He tried in these couple days to get back to you even though he cheated on you.

You forgot something in his house and just wanted to get it back. It was a short visit so you didn't tell him that you're going to pay a visit.

That’s when you saw Striker pounding into one of your friends Nova.

The betrayal was hurtful, you trusted her with all your heart and that stung more than some guy. Your heart ached from the loss of your boyfriend and your friend.

Striker only said the usual line: This is not what it looks like. Seriously these men need to have better excuses than this.

You pulled your hands out of his. “Fucking asshole, keep your disgusting question to yourself.” Striker rolled his eyes and tried to take your hand again, but you dodged his attempt.

“You got quite rude stallion. Remember when you used to get all cuddled up with me and begged me to dick you down.” He winked at you, and you rolled your eyes.

A cold shiver went down your spine at his pervert comment. “You’re disgusting.” Striker hummed at your respond and looked you up and down.

“Only for you baby.” He purred and stroked your cheek. You slapped his hand out of your face and walked towards the exit of the college.

He didn't change a bit.

You’d rather find a way to survive than staying any longer with your ex. Ignoring striker is the best option right now.

As you walked outside of the gates from the college grounds that was covered in corpses just to be met with way more outside. The sun was burning down on you making you sweat in anxious and the sudden heat.

A shiny object met your eye, it was a small butterfly knife. You sprinted towards it and danced in victory.

fuck yes! “Why are you dancing?” You cursed under your breath, “I thought you were already dead.” Striker chuckled and laid his hand on your shoulder. “You’re so mean baby~” He whispered in your ear. You wanted to gag at the nickname.

Since when was he behind you anyways?

“I know a place where we can stay.” Finally, something helpful from striker. “Yeah? Where?” Your positive voice brought a grin up to striker’s face. “Just follow me hottie.” His grin only raises a suspicion, but nonetheless it was safer with him than with these monsters.

As you followed behind striker the anxiety in you only grew and your suspicion was high. You two were now in the middle of nowhere in some kind of forest.

A large one at that.

Your pace started to slow down a bit and you regret your past decision to follow your ex-boyfriend in some lonely woods.

It’s not uncommon that exes kill their ex-partners. And in a zombie apocalypse no one would disagree with being a cannibal if it means to survive.

Humans were always self-centered. Even if some are generous. In the matter of living or dying every human is on their own and always just see themselves. Even you would hesitate when it comes to sacrifice yourself for a stranger.

Striker stopped and you walked right into his back, and you snapped out of your deep thoughts.

You Apologized and asked striker, why he stopped so sudden. “You play all brave and mighty but here you are quivering in fear.” You didn’t even realize that you started to shake in fear.

Striker spun around and pulled out a rather beautiful knife, “Now listen little bitch. Either you’re going to do what I say, or we can do it in the more fun way.” His tongue ran across the silver, and he laughed in pleasure.

You knew this was a bad idea. “What do you want striker?”

Stand tall, stand tall Y/n.

“I want you stallion.” His hand went out to grab your hair throwing you onto the grass ground. Confused you looked around and saw the butterfly knife laying peacefully in the green. It must’ve fallen out of your hand as Striker forced you to the ground.

“You really thought you could break up with ME?!” His hand collides with your shoulder, and he pressed down hard.

You bit on your tongue to stop the groan of pain. The damage of the door breaking was still fresh and introduced itself.

“Oh, babe you messed with the wrong one.” His knife ran across your cheek drawing red. His tongue ran across the new wound.

Your hand searched for the weapon but it was too far away from you.

“Let me go Striker” It was like you’re talking to a wall; he pushes himself down on you. His erected member was pressed onto your thigh, and it was disgusting.

You really hoped that his dick wouldn’t be anywhere near you.You wanted to puke into his face right now.

“You’re so hot stallion. So pretty and perfect for me.” You spat in strikers face. Striker growled in anger, but you don’t regret it even a bit. And it only angered Striker even more.

“Fucking cunt!” He shouted out loud and you just smirked bitter. But when Striker started to smile you frown. What has he planned? His hand travelled down onto his belt, and you heard it buckle.

Oh no.

He laughed at you terrified face. Now he hit your nerve. Striker was about to pull his trouser down but got interrupted.

“That’s not how you treat a Lady, y’know.” Striker stopped as he heard another voice that wasn’t yours and you sigh in relief.

Striker closed his belt back and let you go. Your feet pushed you away to the next tree and your eyes travelled to Striker towards your savior.

He had a large smirk onto his pearl white face, he had a weird sense of fashion. A white cylinder with a small snake on it was on his head. He was kind of short for a Man.

His eyes were brownish but a scarlet red shine through them, it fits perfect on him. Beautiful Man, beautiful eyes. You could watch hours in those eyes, it was like they were telling their own story. How they flicker and shimmer when the sun hits the iris was so beautiful.

“Who the fuck are you?!” Striker hissed, a reminder that he was still very near you. “Lucifer, not so a pleasure to meet you.” His smirk widens as Striker tried to attack him.

Yep, tried.

Lucifer dodged him perfectly and kicked with his heel right in the back from Striker. Striker hissed in pain and rolled on the floor. “You better leave and never come back to her, or you’ll regret it.” Lucifer voice was filled with Venom as he looked down at Striker.

His eyes shrunk in a snake like eye, scary but sexy at the same time. With a whimper Striker ran far away from Lucifer.

Fucking pussy.

Lucifer sighs and turned around to you. His hand stretched out for you to take it and you gladly accept. “Thank you for saving me.” Your thanking warmed his heart, “No Problem, it was the least I could do.”

You felt save around the new stranger. Maybe it was again the wrong decision to just trust a random handsome guy but how can you not.

“Lucifer, right?” Lucifer nodded with his head. “The one and only, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Lucifer bowed his hat firmly in his hands and you giggle at his antics. “And who are you darling?” He readjusted his hat and smiled as you Introduce yourself.

“I think we both could use some help and company in this mess.” Lucifers voice was almost like a warm sun breeze. Complete contrast than strikers. “It all happened out of nothing. First the zombies and then this.” You didn’t want to cry but at that moment you felt weak.

Your body betrayed you and you just cried in front of your new friend you could say.

_____

After a while you two found a cabin in the middle of nowhere. It seems to be a lost place, and no one lives in it. You and Lucifer planned to stay in the cabin for a while.

Life in the cabin was peaceful. Lucifer was the greatest room mate you could’ve Imagined. He was supportive and helped around the household. A man that women can only dream about.

Today Lucifer was out looking for any food he could find meanwhile you built up a fence.

When Lucifer came back you couldn’t help yourself better than to watch.

His shirt was draped over his shoulder and his god given abs and waist were showing. You gulped hard as you watch how the sweat pearls pearled down from his chest.

His body was more than just perfection, you almost felt jealous because of that waist of his. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He winked at you, and you only rolled your eyes which earns you a chuckle.

“You’re so mean kitty.” You huffed and gave him a side eye, “I’d stop if you wouldn’t be so annoying.” Your hand stretched out to get another nail. You hissed as the nail pierced through your fingertips. Lucifer laughed at your clumsiness. “This is already the fifth time kitty cat. Or should I say sleepy beauty.” You rolled your eyes at him. Your heart skipped a beat at his newfound nickname for you.

“Let’s get you patched up.”

A/n: FINALLY I CAN SHARE THIS. So, First thoughts?

💫

@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete @ylovei

If you want to be added please comment on the post I linked below under Taglist.

Taglist

#shapard #hazbin hotel #y/n #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #zombie apocalypse #zombie au #naughty lucifer #pervy Lucifer

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aluraveil · 1 year

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I headcanon that Yandere Pantalone would absolutely place you in Dottore’s care whenever he has to be somewhere else and you can’t come along with him.

You dread having to see Dottore because that guys so fucking ruthless. You know that he does cruel things such as experimenting on children and other terrible things you don’t even want to imagine.

Whenever you’re with Dottore the atmosphere is pretty awkward. You wished that you could have just stayed home.

Dottore doesn’t really know what to do with you. So he’s just standing there like 🧍🏻‍♀️ whenever Pantalone brings you to him.

Sometimes Dottore just has you sit in a chair in his lab and tells you not to move and to sit still the entire time. You obey without saying a word because you’re scared. Scared of what he would do if you disobeyed his orders.

Dottore would just go on about his day and you would watch in horror as he experiments on people.

Whenever Pantalone picks you up from Dottore’s lab, he would give a report on basic things. Like what you did, if you were well behaved, if you were difficult to handle for Dottore, and most importantly if you tried to escape. All while you would be hiding behind Pantalone while clinging desperately onto his arm because of how horrified you were because of the things you saw that day.

During the walk back to your shared home technically your cage, it’s pretty silent and you’re mostly shaking in fear. But you breathe a huge sigh of relief on you finally reach the comfort of your shared room.

You plop down onto the bed while Pantalone takes off his coat and hangs it onto the coat rack. Pantalone lays down onto the bed and pulls you into his arms.

“You were being good today.” Pantalone hums as his chin rests atop your head. “I’ll take you outside for some shopping. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good.” You reply and slowly drift off into a deep slumber.

#lisa imagines #lisa drabbles #yandere pantalone #yandere pantalone x y/n #yandere pantalone x you #yandere pantalone x reader #pantalone x reader #pantalone #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #tw. yandere #dottore x reader

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borathae · 10 months

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↳ Index [Chapter 38 - Soulmates]

Warnings: just…softness and yoongie boongie :( and googie woogie :(, there is also Smut in this chapter but it’s not explicit, it’s more implied that she rides him but it’s not graphic you get me, either way they fucking deserve the fucking world, there will only be softness from now on

Wordcount: 10.3k

a/n: will i ever grow tired of writing them being touchy and in love? nope and nobody can stop me

You sometimes wonder how your life would have turned out had you stayed with your parents. Would you be happier or would you be living in your own personal Hell? Would your father still avoid looking into your eyes and would your mother still greet you by asking if you were finally doing something worthy with your life? Those are questions you know the answer to already. You would have escape nonetheless. One day, you would have left no matter what. You may not have ended up at this specific university with these specific secrets, but you still would have ended up somewhere else. Somewhere where people looked into your eyes and where simply being alive was already enough.

Being alive is a funny thing. Everything and everyone could kill you at any time. You breathe whilst sometimes feeling like drowning. Your heart beats even after getting it shattered. Your brain continues to produce thoughts, no matter how much one may beg it to stop. Your limbs continue working for as long as they are destined to work. And yet everything, every single thing works to one single goal. Death. That one day all this working may finally stop.

Death is an ever funnier thing. You wonder if you would look at it the way you do these days after everything you have been through. You wonder if you would still be as scared of it as you were back then, if you never knew how it feels to come so close to it. Maybe you would live happier though. Despite your fear. Maybe you wouldn’t have to think of all the lives you ended and just how death is certain for everyone. No matter if it comes in ten years, three days or five centuries. Everyone dies eventually.

Are you dead? Is that why you are thinking about it right now? Is this your brain’s last job? To make you think about how everyone dies? Didn’t people always say that one thinks of one's life if death was near? But what is there to think about really? Thinking about it hurts too much. Your grandmother left, your parents hated you and you failed to reunite the only family which felt like home. Yoongi. You failed to save him.

Your eyes open. The lights are so bright that it hurts. You blink to get rid of the pain. Wait a minute. You can’t be dead. You still feel like shit. This isn’t the afterlife, you’re still on earth.

Your vision returns to you and for just a second you wished that it would have given you a little more time to adjust. Yoongi is right there, sleeping on the pillow next to you and with his face glowing in life.

You want to call his name, but your voice doesn’t want to work. So you mouth his name as your hand reaches for his face to hold his cheek. You don’t even realise that your hand is healed. Taehyung must have used his blood to heal your burn marks. All you can concentrate on is Yoongi. He is still cold to the touch, but that doesn’t affect you. You are holding his face again and his cheek feels so soft in your palm and that was all that matters. It forces hot tears into your eyes. He is back.

You try his name again, but only manage to whimper. Yoongi reacts nonetheless.

He opens his eyes.

“Holy shit”, you finally get out. There they are. His dark brown eyes which always look at you with so much love.

Yoongi blinks at you slowly, fingers intertwining with yours just seconds later. He hums. It was a small sound, quiet and barely there, but it overwhelms you nonetheless.

“Yoong-” is all you get out and then you break into tears. Happiness, pain, relief. They are a little bit of everything and so much more.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything as his own tears overwhelm him before he could speak.

You draw closer, holding each other as tightly as you can. And then you cry. You know not for how long, but that doesn’t matter because you finally had each other to hold again. You find unconsciousness that way and it feels good to do because you had each other to hold.

You feel a little better when you open your eyes again. Yoongi is still sleeping, looking peaceful and healthy. His pink lips are parted slightly, his dark lashes rest against his ivory cheeks. He looks so, so healthy again. Holy fuck, he is here. Yoongi is actually with you again. You reach out to touch his cheek, making sure that he was real.

Yoongi opens his eyes. He smiles with them, humming softly. Like this, his cheeks puff out. You caress it softly, feeling so close to tears.

“Are you real?” you ask him in a shaking voice.

He nods his head slowly.

“I feel like I’m dreaming. Please say something, please.”

Yoongi blinks slowly. You feel dizzy in anticipation.

“Anything please.”

“I missed you so much, my love”, he finally says and the sound of his voice makes you tear up instantly. This is it. This is exactly how Yoongi sounds. This is your Yoongi talking. He is actually here.

“It’s really you”, you press out, having to sob, “Yoongi, it’s really you.”

“Yes. It’s me.”

“Holy fuck, Yoongi. I love you”, you press out, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“Are, are you real?”

“Yes”, Yoongi says and closes his eyes as you run your fingers over his face obsessively.

“I can’t believe that I did it. I saved you.”

“You did.”

“Did, did I actually do it?”

“You did.”

“Holy fuck, I did it. My love, I want to cry I did it."

Yoongi smiles when you squeeze his cheek gently. He looks at you, feeling so happy that he wants to jump up and dance. But he can’t. His body feel so weak and tired that he can’t even find strength in himself to draw closer to you. So he has to lay here and allow you to touch him softly and he has no problem doing that. It feels like a dream to him. A beautiful, sweet dream. Your eyes race over his face without stopping, your fingers are clammy in emotion.

“Please say something only the real Yoongi knows. Just anything. I, I don’t believe that this is real.”

“Mhm, I can’t think of anything.”

“Just anything please.”

Yoongi gazes at your eyes deeply and adoringly. His lips curl into a warm smile.

“You’re my land”, he whispers.

“Yoongi”, you breathe, feeling lightheaded from all the emotions in your body.

He grins shyly, “I was really drunk back then.”

“Yoongi, you’re my land too”, you say, scooting closer, “Yoongi, you are really back. Oh my love, my beloved prince”, you trace his cheekbone, “you are truly back. Oh, I thought that I would never see you again. Did you feel anything when you were sleeping?”

He nods his head, “it felt like I was trapped in my own body.”

“Holy shit, oh no my prince. W-were you in pain?”

Yoongi hesitates for a second before he dismisses you with a shake of his head, “that doesn’t matter anymore.”

“So you were. Oh Yoongi”, you whimper, “I’m so sorry, I should have been faster. I, I should have-”

“Hush”, Yoongi silences you with a gentle touch to your temple, “you did more than enough. Way more”, he says and furrows his brows in worry, “you look so tired, my love.”

“I am. I’m so tired”, you say and smile, “but that’s okay to be, because I can be tired now.”

“Yes, you can. I’ll keep you safe.”

“And I’ll keep you safe”, you say, making his eyes fill with the softest of fondness.

“You will”, he whispers, closing the distance between you and him to kiss the slope of your nose.

“I, I’ll keep you safe from, from everything. I, I never want you to, to go through that a-again. I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe”, you are almost stumbling over the words from just how quickly you speak them.

Yoongi merely hums and kisses your forehead, pulling you against his chest afterwards.

“I fucking missed you”, he whispers.

“I missed you too. Oh god, Yoongi, I-I thought that I lost you already. It hurt so much.”

“I know. It hurt me too, my love. Listening to you cry so much while I couldn’t do anything felt like torture.”

“You heard me?” you gasp, lifting your head from the safety of his chest in order to look into his eyes.

“Yes, every word.”

“So you know about what I am?”

“Yes”, Yoongi answers you, tracing your cheek with his thumb. It seems that he can’t stop touching you and neither can you, tracing his cheek while your other hand rests on his strong chest.

“And about the...things I did?”

“Yes.”

“Oh”, you let out, swallowing nervously, “what do you think of it?”

“How do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know. In denial?” you laugh breathily, “I didn’t have time to process any of the hundreds and thousands of things which happened. I’ve been stuck in that day for nine weeks and everything which happened in those weeks felt like a weird dream.”

“Mhm”, he acknowledges you, “it’s okay to feel that way. A lot happened, didn’t it?”

“Yes. So much.”

“We’ll sort through it together. One thing at a time, yeah?”

“Yoongi”, you whimper, feeling your eyes fill with tears again.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

“I’m just so tired and, and now you’re back and I feel like a weak, little plop of exhaustion. Fuck, I had so much stuff planned which I wanted to do with you once you’re back, but I’m just so tired.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what? For making me want to fall asleep? Holy fuck, I haven’t slept properly in weeks. And, and now I just want to keep sleeping while I hold you. I don’t feel burdened anymore.”

Yoongi smiles softly, “that doesn’t sound that bad then”, he whispers, eyes lighting up as his smile spreads over his face, “we could sleep together. I feel tired too.”

“You do?”

He nods his head slowly, “I couldn’t even get up to hunt, they had to feed me blood bags.”

“Oh, my love. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ll sleep it off. As should you.”

“I agree, I feel so sick.”

Yoongi furrows his brows in worry.

“But that’s okay. I’ll sleep it off, just as you will.”

Yoongi smiles and so do you.

“So we should get comfy, shouldn’t we?” you say and giggle.

“That sounds like a plan”, Yoongi whispers, shimmying closer until his lips are touching the bridge of your nose. He gives you a little kiss, “like this?”

“Yes”, you close your eyes, nuzzling closer, “yes, just like this.” And in the tiniest voice you could produce, you add your most honest “I love you.”

“I love you too”, Yoongi answers you, voice barely above a whisper for he knew that he didn’t need to shout for his whole world to hear him.

You drift off to sleep together just seconds later. You won’t notice it, but the sun will rise and set once before you even as much as change into a different position. Taehyung and Jimin will check up on you during that time, but seeing how peacefully you slumbered in each others’ arms they let you sleep and left again.

It is snowing outside when you wake up again. The room is dark, except for the moon shining into the windows. Its light is weak as the thick snow clouds keep it hidden. Yoongi moved his head just enough that his lips are on your forehead now. His fingers are deep in your hair, holding you close. You love this so much. But as much as you love it, you also need to change the position a little. Your shoulder aches from not moving it for hours. It wakes Yoongi, who ends up peeling his eyes open sleepily before he groans.

“My neck is killing me”, he complains, rolling it as best as possible.

“Same, my shoulder hurts”, you say.

He chuckles, rolling to his back. You do the same, stretching yourself.

“Uff now I’m dizzy”, you whine.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks, rolling onto his tummy and propping himself up on his elbows to study your features.

“Yes, gosh”, you place your hand over your mouth, “don’t come so close, I feel like I have the worst breath ever. My mouth feels like cardboard.”

Yoongi chuckles, reaching over to the bedside table to get you the bottle of water Jungkook left as he checked on you. He opens it for you.

“Drink that, it’ll help.”

“Thanks”, you murmur into your hand and sit up to drink. You hand it to Yoongi once you finished half of it.

“Thanks”, he accepts it, drinking it gladly.

“We must have slept for a few hours, it’s already dark outside”, you say.

“Yeah right? That must have been the deepest sleep ever, I feel so out of it”, he says with the left side of his hair completely dented.

“Yeah same. It feels like I slept for days.”

“Same.”

You and him exchange a look, drawing closer afterwards. The yearning was just too strong. Yoongi leans in.

“Oh wait”, you place your hand over your mouth again.

“Oh shut up with your bad breath insecurity, you think I care right now?” he complains in a laugh, tugging your hand away from your lips to instead claim them in a kiss. He wraps his arms around you, placing his hand on the back of your head.

You swear that in this moment colour returns to your world and warmth claims your skin again. He is kissing you again. Yoongi is kissing you. You whimper, wrapping your arms around him to press him as close as possible. You are kissing Yoongi again. This is actually happening.

He purrs, closing his hand around your side right under your arm. The squeeze he gives you, lets you know that he feels just as deeply about the situation as you do. You are back with him. He had to go weeks without you, haunted by your voice and tortured by constant pain.

You are wiping all of this away again. No more pain and agony. Your kiss heals him, your touch keeps him safe. And Yoongi feels overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by how happy he feels and how fucking grateful he is to be loved by you.

He chases you. Needs you closer. He chases you and chases you and chases you until you fall into the sheets and he has to climb on top of you. Atop your lap and with your arms hooked behind his neck, he finds his home, running his hands over the paths of your body. He still remembers his way. He was scared that he would forget, but he didn’t. All those paths and spots and places still feel familiar to his fingers. And tonight, in this snowy moonlit night, the journey leaves Yoongi trembling in intensity. He has to touch you or else he would crumble. And so he does. He keeps on feeling you, exploring you, touching you and messing with your head in the process.

You stopped caring about yourself in those past nine weeks. Your body, your skin, your lips. You didn’t want to be touched. It wasn’t important to you. The comfort it would have brought you felt wrong to you. And Yoongi is touching you. He is kissing you whilst helping your skin remember just how wonderful it feels to receive loving touches. And it was Yoongi doing it, the one person you yearned for the most. Yoongi is helping you remember again and you don’t know if you can handle that.

You think you can’t. Every touch leaves behind traces of warmth and comfort and electricity. Sparks and sparks of electricity which linger on your skin and reawaken your need to be touched. You think that you would die if he stopped right now. You are so starved for tenderness. So fucking starved.

Yoongi breaks the kiss, but stays close. Touching and feeling your skin while his lips dance to your neck. This is his place, his home, the spot he can return to whenever he wants to because you made it his’. Your fingers tell him that you waited for him painfully much, tangling in his hair and keeping him close that way. The sensation of it sends tears to Yoongi’s eyes. It feels so good to feel something other than pain in his head and to know that you are giving it to him. Comfort. The remedy that heals you as well.

His hair feels so soft again. You were so blinded by your grief that you always pretended that his hair felt the same when he was passed out, but your fingers always knew. Each time you ran them through his hair they told your heart the truth while your heart refused to listen. His hair wasn’t soft anymore, but now it is. Now your heart can feel it too. Life has returned to Yoongi and with it, the softness of his hair. You want to never let it go again, twist it and hold it and keep him close that way. His lips kiss away the aches in your neck. You were in constant pain. Tense from falling asleep over your books or straight up passing out on the floor again and tight from the worry torturing your head. Yoongi kisses your skin and helps relaxation return to the aching spots. No more tension, no more aches, just his lips helping your skin remember how to feel and soothing your thoughts with it.

He can smell it too. He is drowning in you. You smell so happy and relieved. And you are soaked in love. It is suffocating him and Yoongi wants it to happen. He wants to suffocate in your scent. This is all he ached for ever since the cursed wood dug into his lungs and burned them painfully. To know that after all the torture, the first scent he can take in is your happiness and love brings new tears to Yoongi’s eyes.

He whimpers softly. He has to be closer to you. Why can’t he be closer to you? Your arms are around him, your hands are feeling his skin and your warmths melt into one and yet it is still not enough to him. You are so far gone. Yoongi can’t handle it.

He wraps his arms around you, presses you against his chest, sobs your name.

“I have to be closer”, he begs, “please pull me closer.”

“Yoongi”, you whimper, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him against your chest. You even lift your head enough that you can bury your face in the crook of his neck. Yoongi holds your head instantly, taking the weight for you as his face disappears in the crook of your shoulder.

Closer. So much closer. And yet not close enough.

For neither of you. The distance was to grande those past few weeks. Not even this hug can heal your hearts.

“Closer”, you beg, “Yoongi please closer.”

“I don’t know how”, he whimpers, “princess, please”, he begs, cradling you against him desperately.

You slip your hand from his back just to twist a bundle of his boxer shorts. The message is clear to him. You have found a way. It is the only way.

Your eyes meet. Yoongi seems in disbelief that you could want something like this. He thought about it, but didn’t dare to voice it, scared that he might ruin the healing moment you and he are sharing.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“I have never been more certain. You?”

He nods his head vigorously and climbs off your lap. He falls to his back and lifts his legs, taking off his briefs that way. You do the same with your pajamas shorts.

Yoongi sits up, looks at your bared middle. You do the same. One second. Eyes meet again. The contact is real. His eyes are so beautiful.

He reaches out and tugs at your shirt. You know what to do. Yoongi knows as well. No insecurities plague him. Not when being naked with you is all he wants to experience.

You climb atop his lap once you rid yourselves of your barriers. They kept you so far, far away from each other. You finally realise how big the gap between you was once you fall back into a hug and your naked chests touch.

“Yoongi”, you sob instantly, holding him with shaking fingers, “Yoongi, I love you.”

You don’t even notice how cold skin was right now. He feels warm and perfect to you. And in this moment you realise that it was never his warmth that kept you so comforted, but the softness of his skin. It wasn’t his warmth, but his touch. It has always been him that made you feel so much that you would run out of words before you managed to describe it.

“I love you too”, Yoongi sobs quietly, soiling your shoulder with his tears as the overwhelming sensation of being naked with you drags him down. He has to rest his cheek against you, grasping you with trembling fingers because if he wouldn’t, he would break into a million pieces. You are so warm in contrast to him. Yoongi hasn’t felt that warm in weeks. And in this moment he realises that he feels temperature as long as he is close to you. He could be lost in the deepest snow storm or stranded in the hottest deserts and he wouldn’t feel a thing. But ever since he learned of your warmth, Yoongi cares about temperature. He feels cold when he is without you and warm when he is reunited with you. And in this moment, he finally stops shivering.

“Closer my love, please I’m begging you”, he pleads, shaking in sobs.

And so you take that last step. One last step. You hope that it is enough. It would break you if it wasn’t. You hold him close and take him inside and in this moment it wasn’t for pleasure, it was for connection.

He fills you up in his entirety instantly, helping you remember yet another part of yourself you forgot. You feel warm between your legs when you can be with Yoongi. Not only in a pleasurable way, but more than anything in a sense of living kind of way. As if your purpose on this earth was to be connected with him. As if in those short and long moments where your bodies are the closest they can get, your souls are finally one again.

“___”, Yoongi sobs, lifting his head.

“Yoongi”, you whimper, spilling tears when he cups your cheeks.

“Please don’t leave me again”, he begs.

“Why would I? Yoongi, all I want in life is to be with you”, you choke out and sob.

“My beloved”, he breathes, eyes falling closed and as his instincts to love you kick in, he kisses you. He kisses you with the intent of never letting you go again. And you kiss him back with the same intent, holding him close while your bodies connected in instinctive rolls of your hips.

And again. It wasn’t for pleasure, but for connection. It was lost to you for weeks and now you have to make sure that nothing can ever shatter it again. The pleasure that comes with the repair is an unavoidable side product. Intense and deep and real. So goddamn fucking real.

Everything about this. It’s real. Your connection, your interwoven souls and the pleasure. Nothing ever felt as fucking real as being with Yoongi does.

Real and right.

So goddamn right.

And as he hugs you closer and kisses you and you finally feel whole again, you finally start to believe what Jimin told you all those endless days ago. No matter when or where, you were destined to meet Yoongi. No matter how long it would have taken or what form you would have possessed, your souls would have found each other because this is why they were brought onto this earth. And they would have turned into one again, colliding like two stars and together they would have filled the endless void with new galaxies and light.

This was always destined to happen.

Your souls were far apart once. Born at different times and different places and yet they found together. Many, many circles around the sun passed and with it your souls came closer and closer until they finally met when they were destined to meet.

You and Yoongi are right and you are real and this is exactly how it was always supposed to be.

“You feel so good”, he sobs, “you feel so fucking good.”

“You too”, you cry, “you feel so good too.”

“Please”, he begs, “please don’t stop.”

“I can’t stop. I couldn’t. Yoongi, I can’t stop.”

His hands are without home on your body. No rest. No pause. No break. They can’t stop exploring you. Feeling you. Remembering you.

And in the process, they help you to remember as well. How it is to be adored and loved and cherished. How it is to be mapped out to make sure he will always know where to touch. How it is to speak the same language of love.

And being touched and touching in return will always be one of the most intense yet comforting languages to speak with Yoongi.

You were on the brink of forgetting it these past nine weeks, but you remember again.

When his hands are on your hips and hold your waist, you know that you will always be taken care of. When his hands are closing around you in a tight hug, nothing can hurt you. When they cradle your face or caress your neck, you feel fragile but treasured. And when they intertwine with yours, you feel whole.

And in return, you remember that Yoongi shivers when you run your hands up and down his back. That he instinctively hugs you whenever you merely hint at hugging him. That he looks up at you with sparkling, adoring eyes when you cradle his cheeks. And that he whimpers softly whenever you hold his hands.

And tonight he looks up at you with his right arm around your waist and his left hand pressing your hand against his chest and as he does, he cries miserably. Tears cover his cheeks and his lips tremble unstoppably. And you think that you have never seen something as beautiful as this. He is here again and he is alive.

His hips still chase you. As are yours chasing his’.

“Please, p-please don’t leave me again”, Yoongi hiccups.

You shake your head vigorously, sobbing miserably.

“Please promise me.”

“I promise.”

Yoongi truly sobs. Like a little boy finally breaking under the pain. He pulls you close and buries his face in your neck. His hips speed up, his arms tense around you in their desperate attempt to melt with you.

“I love you”, he wails.

“I love you too”, you cry, hugging him back.

You find the highest form of pleasure very soon. It wasn’t the goal and yet it was destined to happen. The crescendo and very last attempt to deepen the connection. Just as Yoongi promises you with desperate shakes and a tight hug, you promise him with trembling fingers in his hair and his name at the tip of your tongue. You won’t lose each other again. Lights flicker around you as the emotion of being with him again overwhelms you. Yoongi holds you closer, keeping you with him, loving you just as deeply and it was okay again. You are okay again and it feels so goddamn good to be okay again.

You don’t leave his lap once you stopped shaking. You can’t leave it yet. You have to stay close and make sure that he won’t slip away again, crying into his shoulder because it seems that you just can’t stop crying.

And Yoongi holds you through it all, trying to comfort you whilst crying himself. He knows why he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to tell you, because he knows that it would break your heart, but Yoongi hasn’t felt that much physical pain in countless centuries than when he was trapped in this magical realm and crying is the only way to get over those memories. That and he was happy to be with you again. His most beloved person and the only thing that could heal even the deepest wounds.

You picked up the messy, scattered fragments of him and glued them together again until you created a picture of him which was beautiful and worthy of love, but most of all which, was always supposed to be yours. Your little picture to keep in your heart.

That is why Yoongi cries. Because he is relieved to know that he is yours.

“Yoongi, I feel so happy”, you confess, laughing and sobbing at the same time.

“Me too, my princess”, he agrees, rubbing his hands up and down your back just to make sure that you are real. It wouldn’t be the first time that he tried to escape into his memories. So many times Yoongi tried to flee into his favourite moments with you and for just a few moments they brought solace to him until the torment of his state dragged him away again and he was reminded that you were far, far gone from him.

This time around you feel real. Your skin is soft and warm and your scent is real. And yet somehow Yoongi still doesn’t believe it. He just mended the connection with you and yet he is still scared that the torture wasn’t over yet.

He lifts his head, cradling your face in his tender, loving hands. His thumbs run over your cheekbones, his eyes race between yours.

“This is real, isn’t it? I won’t be dragged away again, will I?” he asks. Pleads.

“Dragged away?” you furrow your brows in worry, “my love, what happened in there?”

“I just don’t want to lose you again”, this is all he can confess for everything else tasted too bitter to allow it to grace his tongue.

“And you won’t. Oh my love”, you cup his cheeks and it feels real to Yoongi. New droplets of tears run down your cheeks, “I dreamed of you whenever I fell asleep. I was with you and you were healthy and in those moments, it felt so real until I woke again and you were gone.”

Yoongi feels short of breath. He doesn’t dare to imagine the possibility that somehow through destined connection you managed to meet in those moments. When he fled into his memories and you fled into your dreams, your souls still found a way to meet and that in those short moments of your endless torments, you were connected again.

“I thought of you too”, he confesses because maybe not speaking his thoughts out loud would hurt more, “I met you in my memories and we were happy until I was dragged away again and…” he lowers his eyes, “I don’t want to experience what I had to endure ever again. That’s all you have to know”, he whispers.

“Oh my beloved”, you press out, deepening the touch to his face and with it tilting his head up, “it’s all over now. You don’t have to hurt anymore and I don’t know have to hurt anymore and, and we won’t have to meet in dreams again.”

Yoongi widens his eyes.

“So you think?” he begins.

The connection he feels in your eyes seems to strengthen. You both feel breathless because of it and yet don’t want to look away.

“Maybe?” you answer him.

“My love”, he whispers shakily.

“It would make the memory of those long weeks easier to bear, wouldn’t it?” you say.

He nods his head, lips curling into an honest and warm smile.

You smile, leaning closer.

He meets you in the middle, eyes falling closed when you stub his nose with your own. Your fingers caress his cheeks and Yoongi is melting, caressing your face gently with the hopes that you feel as good as he does.

“That felt like heaven”, he whispers, “what we just did, I mean.”

“Yes, it did”, you agree, eyes closed and skin tingling from his touches.

“Sorry for the crying”, he jokes, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, same”, you say, “I think that we needed it. I feel so much better now.”

“Me too.”

Your stomach lets you know that it felt better as well. Better, which in your case meant, starved. All the tension keeping you fed is gone and your stomach is finally telling you how it is.

“Oh my god”, you gasp.

“That was so loud”, Yoongi says, opening his eyes just to look at you.

“I haven’t had a proper appetite for weeks. I think it’s biting me in the butt now”, you confess.

“Princess”, he says with slight disappointment in his voice.

“Don’t princess me, I was so worried for you that food made me want to throw up”, you say with your stomach rumbling again.

Yoongi touches it gently, rubbing his hand back and forth slowly.

“Should we get food, my love?” he asks you in a soft voice.

You nod your head, “yeah, I guess”, you murmur shyly.

“Yeah? That’s good, I can’t have my princess starving”, he says, making you giggle because he is so gentle and loving and that feels so good to experience.

And so it happens that you and Yoongi clean up together and get dressed in your warmest clothes to take the car to the gas station. And you wander through the place holding hands and giggling like little kids because it felt so goddamn nice to be here together. The clerk still remembered you and he greets you with a big smile and contrary to last year, Yoongi greets him back with a brighter smile, leaving him a big tip because he felt like it. Then he took the bag and your hand and left the gas station kissing your cheek and the clerk watched you with great awe. She must have done good things for his heart, he thought and then allowed the fifty bucks to slip into his pants pockets.

“It’s snowing”, Yoongi says once outside, twirling around before pulling you close with his hands on your waist, “it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is”, you say, touching him because this is all you wanted to do.

“Who would have thought that it will snow again. Right here” Yoongi says, “maybe this gas station is our spot.”

You smile, hooking your fingers behind his neck to pull him into a kiss. One Yoongi retorts happily, hugging you against him with his strong arms cradling you safely. You pull back, but stay close enough that your breaths intermingle into on united puff of white cloud.

“I wanna fucking spend eternity with you, Min Yoongi.”

“Good, ‘cause I wanna fucking spend eternity with you too, ___.”

You giggle and Yoongi smiles.

“And then each year we have to come to this gas station when it snows and kiss.”

“Deal”, Yoongi says, resting his forehead against yours.

Your eyes close at the same time. He cups your cheek, you do the same to him.

“Forever”, Yoongi whispers.

“Forever”, you promise him.

He kisses the tip of your nose, giggling when you reciprocate it. He makes you smile and kiss him again just because he is so adorable when he giggles.

“You’re so cute”, he says.

“You’re cuter”, you answer him.

“Mhm”, he lets out, opening his eyes, “we should probably leave now”, he whispers.

“Why?”

“There’s someone looking at us. He thinks that we’re cringe.”

“He’s cringe for thinking that”, you say, sending a look at the stranger. It flusters him to the point of looking away and trotting off. “Yeah exactly run away, you coward. I could make your brain come out of your nose if I wanted to”, you murmur.

“Okay, let’s not”, Yoongi says in a chuckle, tugging you with him gently, “let’s get you home before you commit magical murder at our spot.”

“In theory you started this trend when you punched off that guy’s head last year.”

“I only did that to keep you safe. Stop acting as if I did that just for fun”, he laughs, pulling you into him with his arm around your shoulder and his hand rubbing your upper arm.

“Be honest, you also did it to impress me.”

“And even if I did. Would that be so bad?”

You snicker, kissing his cheek. “No”, you say, “you’re so cool Yoongie Boongie.”

“This nickname is so silly”, he whispers, leaning in for a second kiss.

“You love it, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do”, he says, blushing vividly when you kiss him a third and for now last time. You probably would have continued kissing his cheek if you hadn’t arrived by his car and therefore had to get inside.

Yoongi turns to you once in the car. Your eyes meet. It never gets boring. Connecting with him through nothing but a look. Each time you do, it becomes more exciting.

Your bodies act at the same time. While Yoongi takes your face and leans in for a kiss, your body instinctively knew that it had to prepare for a kiss. Your eyes fall closed even before Yoongi’s lips touch yours and your heart is skipping beats after beats.

Yoongi and you moan into the kiss. The sound wasn’t for pleasure but for connection. To be with each other again leaves you unable to process it unless you make sounds.

He leaves his seat and climb over the gear stick so he can sit on your lap.

A loud honk startles you both.

His butt hit the steering wheel. He is halfway atop of you.

“You think someone heard us?”

“Yeah probably. Who fucking cares.”

“Right”, he agrees, “but still, we have to go home.”

“You were the one who kissed me first.”

“I can’t stop. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.”

Yoongi cups your cheek and sit down on you with his right arm around your waist and his big hand on your hip. His crotch presses against your tummy. The lose sweats he wears are doing nothing to hide him from you. He currently feels so soft there. Softness against your tummy and his weight on your lap. This makes you feels so good that it gets hard to breathe.

“I want more kisses”, he says, running his right hand to your face to caress it. His eyes are switching between yours and your lips. The orange lights from outside make them sparkle. You forgot how incredibly cute his nose looks and how pretty he is up close. You are fighting for air once more.

“We should get home, shouldn’t we?” you tell him, feeling up his hips and butt.

“Why do you not want to kiss me?” he asks and his eyes fill with tears, “did I do some-”

You interrupt him with the most passionate kiss. Yoongi whimpers, pulling you closer instinctively. His head is turning and air is sparse. He hopes it always stays this way. He had to suffer through weeks of suffocation and yet it feels good to be sparse of air now that he is kissing you.

“You didn’t”, you whisper, “but people are so close.”

Yoongi’s eyes drift outside. Yours do the same. The gas station is only a few steps away. There are five people inside and the clerk. They live their lives while outside in the snowy parking lot, you and Yoongi share kisses on the passenger seat of his car.

Yoongi looks back at you. You are gazing up at him with a fond smile on your lips and your eyes lowered halfway.

“Too many people?” you ask him.

But he shakes his head, “just let me be with you.”

“What if they see us?”

“Then let them stare”, Yoongi says and pulls you back into a kiss.

“Yeah, let them stare”, you murmur, pulling his hips snug against your body.

Yoongi moans into you, chasing you with wiggles of his hips and his arms closing around you in a hug.

Somehow in the journey of becoming one again, you manage to climb to the backseats. And you manage to slide down your pants just far enough that your connection can become as deep as it can get. And once again, it wasn’t for pleasure but for connection. However, neither you nor he could deny how much more desire there was in the movement. Your connection was being mended again, but it was also obvious to both that the need for pleasure was slowly returning to you and him.

Kiss breaks for air were spread throughout the heated moments and the once miserable sobs were replaced by breathy moans and gasps of each other’s names. Hands, once desperate to remember the language of touch, now grasp the other whenever bolds of warmth spread through your bodies. And eyes gaze at each other and meet hazy, intense pleasure in the gazes.

Your bodies and souls are slowly but surely healing. Your hearts are slowly but surely accepting that this was your reality again. That you and he were truly together again. And when that acceptance washed over you, you grabbed the handle and showed Yoongi how good you could love him while Yoongi forgot how to speak and trembled beneath you.

By the time you find your highs together, the windows are fogged up and snow covers the windscreen. And somehow, through the magical wonder of being with his soulmate, Yoongi’s once cold body managed to heat up enough that he felt warm to the touch. You also magically turned the hazard lights on without wanting to. They are now blinking and blinking and blinking away.

You sink into Yoongi. Your hand slips from the window, only an imprint in the fog remains. The car is filled with your quickened breathing and the rhythmic clicking of the hazard lights as you recover. Yoongi caresses your back, basking in your scent. He feels so intoxicated when he is with you. For a short moment, he wonders how he managed to be with you in the past without feeling dizzy all the time. And then he pulls you closer and buries his nose in the crook of your neck just to get even more of your scent.

“I can’t stop”, he murmurs into you.

“Don’t apologise. Neither can I.”

“I’m so scared to wake up.”

“This isn’t a dream.”

“It feels like one.”

You lift your head and look into his eyes. The connection, like always, is intense and leaves you wanting for the moment to last forever.

“I know it’s not my memories, but what if they are? I’m scared that I’m remembering”, he confesses.

“This isn’t a memory, my beloved love.”

“So you feel like a dream. You actually do.”

“You feel like a dream too. But then”, you furrow your brows, “no. No you don’t feel like a dream, you feel like home.”

“Home?”

“Home means feeling safe and as if no obstacle is too big because you have a place to call home.”

“I’m your home?”

“You’re my home. I never had a home. At least not one which made me feel safe and where I could settle for the day. You’re my home and I wanna make sure that you are always well taken care of. That’s what you do with a well loved home, you take care of it and you make memories with it and you know that you'll always return to it no matter how far you go.”

“___.”

You smile, “you’re my home, Min Yoongi”, you whisper and add, “you’re my home and I’m your land. I think that’s nice to be.”

“___”, Yoongi presses out, “___ please don’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t. I won’t ever leave you. You’re my home, remember?”

He nods his head and picks you up just to lie down on the backseat with you. He manages to do so in a way that allows him to nuzzle his face against your neck. He does so shuddering and with his fingers squeezing you.

“Please hold me for a while.”

And you do so gladly, finding refuge in the knowledge that the weight you feel on your chest tonight wasn’t because of heartbreaking failure but because of your healed and healthy Yoongi.

You hold hands as he drives you home, just as you hold hands as you both carry the grocery bag to the kitchen. It wasn’t heavy, you just didn’t want to stop touching each other.

The estate was still asleep. Not that you tried calling out for the others, but they definitely would have already come running had they heard you come out of the garage chatting about the heavy snowfall.

You don’t mind that everyone is still sleeping. Perhaps you are even a little happy about it. All you really want to do is spend time with him. With your Yoongi. No other distraction. Just you and him. You wished for such a moment for way too long.

“I need to drink something, no joke, I’m so freaking thirsty”, you say once you are in the kitchen, hurrying to the sink to get some water.

“You really should. It’s good for you”, Yoongi says, working to empty the groceries in the meantime. He stores everything in the fridge, except for what you will need for your pasta.

“Do you think that I had a fever? I swear I had to have something, I’ve never been that thirsty before.”

“It could be. You were really hot when I held you.”

“Mhm”, you acknowledge him and then down two glasses of fresh water. You set down the glass with a sigh, “that felt good. Do you want a glass too?”

“No, I’m good. Come help me with the bacon, love.”

“Of course, what do you need?” you hurry to his side.

“Look, I don’t know if I can cut it alone. I need your help”, he says, making you snicker because you figure out instantly that it was all just a scheme.

“Poor boy, of course I can help”, you say, placing your hands over Yoongi’s to help him cut.

This only really lasts a second and then Yoongi is nudging you with his nose, giggling as he searches for your lips. You let him find you instantly, giggling just as much. The bacon sits forgotten instantly as you turn to hook your arms behind Yoongi’s head and he twirls you just so he can lift you up on the kitchen island.

“Mhm, my prince”, you break the kiss, “will we ever get to cook?”

“I don’t know”, Yoongi rubs his cheek against yours like a cuddly cat, “can you feel my lashes?” he asks, tickling your cheek with them by blinking quickly.

“Yes, I can”, you squeak out, squishing his cheeks, “why did you do that?”

“I don’t know, I wanted to test it out”, he says, “do me”, he orders, leaning in to present his cheek to you.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute, I can’t fucking breathe”, you say, leaning in to connect your lashes with his cheek, “and?” you ask after blinking quickly.

“I felt it”, he scratches the spot you touched, “it tickled.”

“Yeah”, you say and giggle, “Yoongi my cutie Boongie why are you so cute?”

“I always was.”

“Oh? So we’re not denying it anymore?”

Yoongi glances at you sheepishly, leaning his weight on your thighs so he can snatch a kiss from you.

“Just tonight. I haven’t felt that alive in weeks.”

“Quite literally.”

He laughs, nodding his head in passionate agreement.

“I’m happy that you are, you know? And I’ll keep telling you that I am a million times more.”

“Good, I’ll keep telling you that I’m the luckiest man ever”, he says, picking you up from the counter just so he can hold you instead.

“You are?” you ask him, legs wrapped around his waist and hands tracing his neck and shoulders.

He nods his head, eyes lighting up as they race over your face. He likes that he has to look up at you that way. Because he does. He looks up at you so very much. You did all of that for him. You searched heaven and hell for a cure. You did that because you loved him so much that you didn’t want to let go. Yoongi always thought that he was destined to never experience such a love in his life. But here you are. Holding onto him as you are in his arms and he can look up at you.

“You’re so sweet”, you whisper, cupping his cheeks in your soft palms.

Yoongi leans into your touch as his eyes fall closed. He turns his head, placing a kiss on your palm and afterwards, he rubs the tip of his nose against it. Slow and gentle. To really savour the feeling of you.

“Mhm”, Yoongi hums in a smile, setting you down on the floor after kissing you once more. He swears that this is the last time. Yes, he will break that promise ten seconds from now when you try to cut the bacon again and he steals a sneaky kiss instead.

You squeak and giggle, “fleeing” from him by leaning into the kiss. Yoongi steals it successfully, giggling deeply as he rubs his nose against your cheek. You are so happy. So, so happy that you somehow manage to turn on the stove. Yoongi notices it instantly and turns it off again.

Your eyes meet.

“Did I do that?”

“Yeah.”

“But I didn’t even do anything.”

“It’s okay. I turned it off again.”

You gnaw on your lower lip shyly.

“Hey, it’s seriously okay.”

“Yoongi, I think I can’t control my magic”, you confess, “Meredith told me that I have lots of chaos in my head.”

“She did?”

You nod your head, “I can’t control my magic. I keep turning on lights and, and stuff. But only since you’re back. Before that, it was always…it was only in bad moments and when I needed to save you.”

“You triggered your magic when I was dying and then kept pushing yourself to do stuff you weren’t ready for yet. No wonder it is chaotic right now. Don’t worry, my love. I’m here now and we can fix this.”

“Can we really? I’m so scared that I’ll hurt you or the others because I can’t control myself.”

“You won’t hurt me. Trust me, nothing will hurt as much as-”, he hesitates and lets out a breathy laugh, sending you a helpless look.

You understand and cup his cheeks, caressing them softly.

“You won’t have to return to that place. I promise you.”

He nods his head, pressing out a small, “okay.” Then he lowers his eyes.

“Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing. I just…it will take some time not to remember how it felt.”

“And I’ll be with you the entire time, so don’t hold back on crying or, or asking for help. Yes?”

“Yes”, he whispers and rests his forehead against yours, “thank you.”

“Don’t. I’ll always be there for you.”

“Guys?”

You and Yoongi turn upon hearing Jungkook’s voice.

“Holy shit, since w-when? Oh my fucking god”, Jungkook gets out and then he is already by your side, having both you and Yoongi in a tight hug, “you’re finally awake oh my god”, he chokes out and sobs loudly, “you are finally awake! Oh god, I can’t believe this i-is real.”

“You’re acting as if you didn’t talk to me a few hours ago”, Yoongi laughs, rubbing Jungkook’s back.

“A few hours??” Jungkook lifts his head, showing you his teary eyes, “it’s been three days.”

“What? Three days?”

Jungkook steps back, nodding his head with his brows furrowed in seriousness.

“You guys slept for three whole days. We kept on checking on you, but you were both out cold and nothing we did could wake you. Oh god, I was so scared that you were gone. I can’t believe that you’re here again.”

“Three days”, you say, looking at Yoongi and realising that he is doing the same, “no wonder we feel that done.”

“Yeah”, Yoongi agrees and chuckles.

“I guess you guys really needed that sleep. You both look a lot better than you did three days ago”, Jungkook says, reaching for both of you, “I’m sorry, I gotta make sure that you’re actually here. Holy fuck”, he says and spills tears, “oh god, I want to cry.”

“You’re so cute, Kookie”, you say, reaching up to wipe his tears, “wanna join us in making food?”

“Yes of course. What are you making?”

“Pasta. Yoongi said that he knows how to make an authentic Carbonara.”

“Oh, that sounds yummy”, Jungkook says and wraps his arms around both your waists, squishing you together that way.

It cracks both of you up.

“I’m so happy”, Jungkook murmurs, face buried in the nook between you and Yoongi’s bodies, “oh my god, you guys don’t smell sick anymore. Just happy. I missed this so much.”

“You’re adorable”, Yoongi chuckles, ruffling Jungkook’s hair, “oh? Your hair’s grown quite a lot.”

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna cut it. I was so sad hyungie, I thought that I’d never see you again.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, kiddo.”

“Good”, Jungkook mumbles and then squeezes your waists, “oh god, I want to merge with you guys. Let’s merge, so we never lose each other again.”

“Sounds like a plan, I’ll see if I can find something in my books”, you joke.

“No”, Jungkook shakes his head, “you’re forbidden from even opening a spell book for the next five decades. I’m not letting you get hurt again.”

You laugh, “okay, okay. Message received. Gosh Kookie, I can’t cut the bacon if you’re holding us like that.”

Jungkook thankfully lets go, but he stays close enough, changing between back hugging Yoongi and back hugging you, all whilst nuzzling his nose into the respective shoulder. You don’t mind that he was here now. On the contrary. He gives the best back hugs and he radiates such happiness, that your and Yoongi’s happiness feels ten times stronger too.

“Did you hear already by the way?” he addresses Yoongi, “___ has magic.”

“I know, I heard when she talked about it to me.”

“So you heard everything?” Jungkook gasps.

Yoongi looks over his shoulder, “yes Kookie, I heard you crying over me. I’m sorry I couldn’t just wake up then and there to hold you.”

“Oh god Yoongi”, Jungkook pouts, “I’m such a crybaby, I cried so much. Sorry for making you listen to it.”

“Don’t apologize. Hey, come get your kiss, Kookie.”

Jungkook leans in, giving Yoongi’s waist a tight squeeze the moment Yoongi’s lips connect with his cheek in a sweet kiss. Jungkook pulls back, exhaling just a little shakily.

“See? That’s so much better than crying, yeah?” Yoongi talks softly.

“Yeah, so much better”, Jungkook says, blushing shyly. He giggles and steals one more kiss from Yoongi even if that surprises the latter and he ends up stumbling from the force of Jungkook pulling him closer.

“Kookie”, Yoongi pulls back with a chuckle, “not so rough, I’m not back to full strength yet.”

“Sorry, I just missed you”, Jungkook whispers, “and you too”, he turns to you, attacking your cheek with a big smooch.

You giggle, leaning in to chase his sweet kiss.

“You’re so cute, Kookie.”

“Heh”, Jungkook lets out, resting his chin on your shoulder afterwards to sway your bodies from side to side slowly.

In the meantime, you and Yoongi fry the bacon together. You put it in the pan and Yoongi stirs. It is the perfect teamwork and continues as you prepare the eggs together. Yoongi cracks them while you stir.

“Did ___ already tell you about her grandma, hyung?” Jungkook asks, waddling behind you as you hurry to get the salt.

“She didn’t”, Yoongi sneaks a glance at you, “didn’t you tell me that she died a few years ago?”

“She did, but the craziest thing happened to me. To us”, you say, pointing at Jungkook, “we were out of options and felt hopeless so I told him about my grandma and that she definitely was a witch but that I never got the chance to talk to her about it. And then Kookie suggested that we might try to look for clues in her house with the help of my memories and so we travelled to my memories. And we actually managed to do it but then the craziest thing happened and she actually addressed us and talked to us.”

“Really?” Yoongi sounds genuinely surprised.

“Yeah”, Jungkook nods his head vigorously, “she could even see us and touch us, hyung. And, and I wasn’t a vampire anymore, just human.”

“You were?”

“He was”, you continue, “and we ate her raspberry pie. It was so good, wasn’t it?”

“It was heaven, so yummy and sweet. Hyung, I had a heartbeat”, Jungkook says, “it felt so good. It was racing so much whenever I looked at ___.”

“Kookie, the hell?” you gasp as you fluster, “don’t say that.”

Jungkook grins sheepishly, squeezing you softly before he kisses your cheek lovingly.

“Huh”, Yoongi lets out and scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. He turns to prepare the eggs in the hot water, “I can’t believe you guys managed to enter The Plains on your first try.”

“The Plains? What’s that?”

“It’s afterlife for witches. It’s between the realm of the living and the realm of the dead. You won’t believe it, but Namjoon was the one who created it long before we became vampires. He said it was to make sure that even in death we could continue to live together”, Yoongi lifts his head, staring at the ceiling with sad eyes, “yeah well, we can see how that turned out”, he whispers, before shaking his head to get rid of the sadness on his voice, “whatever. My point is, that it’s really fucking hard to enter The Plains as a living witch, let alone to bring a vampire with you”, Yoongi looks at you, letting his eyes run over your features, “you’re actually really fucking impressive, princess. Like honestly.”

“Oh uhm”, you feel your cheeks heat up, “I didn’t even know that it was that difficult to do. I just really wanted to see my grandmother again.”

“You can be proud of what you did. It took me a year to master it”, Yoongi says, “you have serious potential, I mean it.”

“No, I still have so much to learn. I barely even know anything and sometimes my magic overwhelms me and I don’t know what to do.”

“Undermine your talents again and I’ll whoop your ass”, Yoongi warns, “I mean it when I tell you that you have potential. I trained hundreds of witches in my time, but only a handful managed to teach themselves the level of magic you did. In the span of nine weeks, if I may add.”

“I think pure spite and anxiety kept me going”, you say.

“Princess”, Yoongi warns.

“Thank you”, you assure him, “I think that I still need a little time to realise it, but I’m a bad bitch.”

“You’re such a bad bitch, no joke”, Jungkook agrees, nodding his head vigorously.

Yoongi smiles, “you’ll get even better with proper training. I’m sure that in a few weeks time, you will have mastered even more magic.”

“You’ll help, won’t you?”

“If you want me to.”

“Of course I do. Who else gets to say that she’s getting lessons from the OG witch and OG vampire?”

“Wow, are these the only criteria which make me a good teacher?”

“No. I can kiss you like this too”, you say, sealing a sweet kiss from him, “and like this and this and also like this”, you say between kisses. The kind which melt Yoongi into a complete puddle of giddiness. “That’s the best part of it.”

Yoongi smiles, “I’m not the OG witch by the way. I was just a student”, he whispers.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the original witch in my eyes”, you whisper, kissing his lips.

Yoongi smiles into the kiss, caressing your waist. He continues touching you when you pull back, gazing at you with love drunk eyes.

“It also means that we won’t have to lose ___ to age”, Jungkook says, “she’ll stay young like Meredith and her coven.”

You widen your eyes. Yoongi seems just as surprised.

“I didn’t even realise that yet”, you confess.

“Neither did I.”

You turn to Yoongi, taking his hands. Yoongi pulls them against his chest, eyes racing between yours.

“My love”, he chokes out.

You smile, “it’s actually eternity, my Yoongi Boongie.”

He laughs. You laugh. And Jungkook laughs too, picking the both of you up just to twirl through the kitchen with you.

“I can’t believe that this is real”, he laughs, “I love you guys so much.”

And as Yoongi picks you up after Jungkook set you down and then begins kissing you, you know that this right here was just the beginning of something eternally good.

171 notes · View notes

ewanmitchelll · 4 months

Text

Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (VI): Getaway Car.

Imagine this is a modern world and Aemond Targaryen runs away with you just in the very moment his family needs him.

Warnings: smut, sexual tension, bad mouth, drama.—fluffy endings because Aemond deserves to be happy, ok?

***

This evening dinner is set at his sister’s household. Rhaenyra welcomes her stepmother, father and siblings all in her new apartment located at the upper east side of King’s Landing. Aemond is there mostly because he’s obliged to, never bonded with his elder siblings, although Baelon is a good brother to him and Helaena must be protective at all costs.

He has some issues with Aegon as well as Rhaenyra’s, but all for all he is a polite man. He just wishes he is somewhere else.

This meeting has a purpose, though. Viserys has a big company and needs to ensure his children have a share of it—the old man wants to retire, therefore he needs to make sure all is right as it should.

But Aemond has other interests—as if anyone asked him what those are—, he doesn’t pay his mind too much in this reunion. In fact, he’s slowly engineering a plan to escape it.

“Are you sure you want to do it?”, a voice asks him and that sure could be his conscience’s.

Aemond turns at Helaena and puts a grimace in response.

“Have I become too obvious, sweet sister?”

She smiles at him, poking his sides playfully.

“I know you well, Mon, that is all”, she uses the affectionate nickname that only she can use. “I really would like you not to meet the Rivers again.”

Helaena refers to Aemond’s ex—and sometimes lover—Alys and her twin brother, Johnny, both famed for their…uh…bad behavior.

“I was thinking about somebody else, though”, he smirks when seeing that, for the very first time, he surprised her.

“Who?”

“Y/N, of course. She’s my best friend. And I would have gladly brought with me had father not been so…”, Aemond sighs.

“He wants to gather his family, Mon”, Helaena thinks it’s her duty to be the peacemaker of the family. “If it was up to mother, Y/N would be welcome here. We all love her.”

Aemond rolls his eyes, understanding the subtly line Helaena innocently brings.

“She’s just a friend, not a girlfriend or anything of the sort”, he snorts.

“Of course she is”, Helaena smirks.

And then they are summoned to the table…

***

It was the best of times, the worst of crimes

You are quietly walking home after work, having refused going out to the pub with your workmates. You are still upset how they mocked your lack of love life, preferring books to the company of others. Hence why you refused the invitation. You don’t need alcohol or men to prove others you live your life.

Quite moody thus you pick your phone when Aemond calls you.

“Hey, A. Have you remembered your friends or has Alys dumped you this time?”, you snort at him.

He raises his eyebrows epically.

“Whoa. Is someone on PMS or what?”, but then Aemond feels a sort of need to justify himself. “For what’s worth we haven’t been together for a couple of months.”

“Sometimes I think you just got yourself with her to rebel against your parents”, so you say.

Aemond hates how right you are. Worse, how well you know him.

The ties were black, the lies were white. In shades of gray in candlelight. I wanted to leave him, I needed a reason…

“Anywho, where are you? I hear some noises in the back, so this means you are going home.” And then he realizes. “Wait. What happened at your work? You sound upset.”

You have a bad response in the tip of your tongue, but you sigh and decide not to take all on your best friend. It’s not fair.

And once you tell him what happened, you hear a smack at the steering wheel, producing a beeeee.

“What are you boozing for?”

“These motherfuckers you work with”, Aemond scowls. “They don’t know you like I do. How sexist to make such a claim. You know what? I’m going to kidnap you, Y/Nickname.”

You are still laughing out loud for how protective he is—as he’s always been—when he calls off the phone. Unsurprisingly, though, he’s managed to get at your apartment before you do. All because you were upset by what you’ve been told that you felt the need to walk all the way home instead getting a bus or even an Uber.

And here he is, your favourite bad boy leaning against his fancy car, dressed all in leather.

“Walking again? You poor thing”.

You roll your eyes at him but eventually you cede in and rest your head in his shoulder as you hug him back.

“What’s wrong with me?”, you ask. “Is being a sensitive that big issue?”

“No, it’s fucking not. You have a good heart and this bothers people fucked in their heads”, Aemond strokes your hair, pleased to see his words get some chuckle out of you.

“Are you running from your family again?” You ask, reluctantly parting from the embrace, noticing how well he smells.

“How obvious is that, eh?”, Aemond snorts before shrugging his shoulders. “Get in the car. We need to have a ride.”

“May I just get a pack of clothes?”, you don’t know why you even ask.

“Just get in the fucking car, Y/Nickname”, he laughs quietly, basically pushing you to the other side of the car, so you take a seat next to his. And you just comply.

Why?

You fear to find the answer as you buckle the belt.

“Where are we going?”, you ask him. “I hope I am not an excuse to run from everyone.”

“We all need excuses to run at some point”, he winks at you. “Don’t feel so especial, my darling.”

You blush and turn your head at the window.

“Always rude, Aemond. How do we even get along is a good question to me.”

That makes him laugh so hard that you unwillingly smile.

“You know, Y/N, we should have some fun”, Aemond smiles at you. “What do you think about that?”

You side smirk at him.

“You are the one driving, my dude.”

“I hate when you use that slags”, Aemond laughs as he tiptoes the wheel.

“How funny of you to say that, Mr Gang WannaBe.”

“What Gang Wanna Be?”, he chuckles as he casts you a glance.

As you open the window and you put your hands outside, playing your fingers with the window, you smile and Aemond likes the view.

He notices how beautiful you look specially when you are not overwhelmed by daily tasks or hurt by people. But even so, you are radiant. Damn it, you do.

But he doesn’t admit the spark of attraction.

“Why, when you were with Alys and her twin weirdo, you walked with bad people… and didn’t they once tell you that I was too righteous to walk with you? I mean…”

He rolls his eyes at that.

“Who did even tell you this bullshit, Y/N? If that was even true, we wouldn’t be here, would we?”

And then so typical of Aemond Targaryen, he turns the radio on and puts to a station that, coincidently, is playing a song that you both love and start thus to sing loudly at the same time.

“SHOT TO THE HEART AND YOU’RE TO BLAME, YOU GIVE LOVE A BAD NAME!”

And forgetting about previous difficult months, in a getaway car, you two share a laughter.

“That’s my girl!”

So it begins…

***

Nearby King’s Landing, close to Aegon’s Hill, there is a pub known for its alternative style. There he takes you, and you feel an outsider as there are many punks and goths, a style you don’t follow.

“Uh, AM”, you call him affectionately. “I know you like to be this bad boy underground prince, but…”

“Come now”, he puts a hand around your waist. “Don’t be silly. This is a place I like to come because I can be myself. And here’s a good environment to stay away from worldly concerns.”

As you follow him, eyeing dark walls with red decorations—some going from false skulls to perfect imitations of dragons—, music out loud putting people to dance all the whilst waitresses serve different drinks prepared by bartenders, you start to understand what he means and relaxes once you two slide in a corner table.

“I’d like two cups of gin”, he asks, ignoring the protest rising to your eyes…

…and eventually making to your tongue.

“Are you out of your mind?! I don’t drink alcohol!”

“I shall drink for you then, my dear Y/Nickname”, he winks at you again, pleased to make you blush. “Just at least have one sip in case you feel like tasting…”

You cast him a long glance, seeing something in Aemond’s purple eyes.

He poisoned the well, I was lyin' to myself. I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed…

“Are you going to tell me why you are running away from your family?”

Aemond heavily sighs, but as he inclines in the back of the seat, he knows he cannot truly flee from you.

“I hate how you read me so well. Can you wait for me swallowing a few drops of alcohol first?”

You laugh quietly.

“No. Come on, you can talk to me.”

He finds himself uncomfortable when sensing the weight of your gaze on him. Alys never looked at me like that.

Aemond sighs once again and even in the middle of that mess, he confides you his secrets. And you hear him patiently so, never judging, never posing arrogantly.

Though your surroundings are completely noisy, it feels as if the world stops spinning slowly. Almost unconsciously you take his hand and tangle your fingers with his. And this small gesture does not go unnoticed by him.

Aemond smiles back at you.

“Thank you for seeing me, Y/Nickname”, he caresses your wrist with his thumb. “Above all, for listening. It means a lot.”

“That’s what I am here for”, you smile warmly. “And that’s why I did something crazy by running away with you.”

Aemond laughs quietly, taking a sip of his gin, locking gazes with you.

“You are my partner in crime. My poor lamb”, and then he stands abruptly. “Come, let us dance.”

You shake your head, unbelievably following him without second guess. And as he pulls you closer to dance accordingly, your heart skips a beat.

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed. We never had a shotgun shot in the dark (oh!)

Aemond knows by now you have unresolved feelings for him, and he sees it so does he. But the Targaryen bad boy is unsure, taunted by a shade of insecurity that has never occurred him before.

As he watches you dance freely, his mind begins to fear of breaking your heart, of losing you. But when you turn at him, shaking his shoulders playfully as you make him dance, everything else is forgotten.

You know it’s dangerous to let yourself involve like that, especially when his hands slide into your waist and the distance between you and him is short.

Your reason warns you that he doesn’t love you the way he loved Alys and this thought may be the motive why you suddenly steps away, breaking the spell.

“I need some air”, you excuse yourself, quickly going outside.

Aemond frowns, unsure what the hell just happened. Seeing it’s time to leave, however, and ignoring the phone calls of his mother, he pays the check and finds you outside, close to the car.

“Hey, Y/N”, he softens when seeing you slightly pale. “Are you well? What happened?”

“Oh it’s all good”, you lie, and it’s so evident that you do that he folds his arms. You blush, disconcerted. “I was just… all right, being paranoid.”

“That’s better than lying. Come, it’s time for us to go.” As he opens the door for you to slide in, he adds: “We are talking about it soon.”

There is, however, a sudden awkward silence that hangs between the two of you, though. Aemond senses your eyes on him as he drives with no destination in mind.

You were drivin' the getaway car. We were flyin', but we'd never get far. Don't pretend it's such a mystery. (…) There were sirens in the beat of your heart.(…)

“What has you overthinking?”, he asks you, avoiding your gaze for now. Aemond suspects it, but he wants to hear it from you.

You know by his tone there is no need to speak untruth thoughts.

“You are not the only fugitive here”, you begin.

He stops by eventually at a hostel. For a moment, neither speaks and you hate how you ruin the good vibes of this journey.

“Aemond…”, you begin, trying to reach out for him.

“We need to spend night here”, he tells you when sensing your inquisitive gaze. “I think that gin was not really good.”

“Oh, so that’s why you are acting weird?”, you don’t even conceal the relief, which makes him chuckle.

But he doesn’t answer you right away. Now at the hall, he asks for one bedroom with two beds. To your embarrassment, however, the receptionist lady informs you that there is only one bedroom with one bed.

“It’s a very good suite, though”, says the woman who attends by the name of Sheila.

Opting not to see your face going red, Aemond smiles at the woman and says:

“That’s perfect, love. Thank you.”

“There are two bathrooms here”, he informs you. “Once we are clean, I believe we can speak.”

You detest how awkward this is getting.

“No”, you contest him. “Aemond, I am sorry. I ruined our moment, didn’t I? I was just afraid…”

He turns at you and seeing your fears in stamped clearly in those y/c irises, he cannot help himself. Aemond approaches you, taking your hands into his, drawing you closer.

“I fear you are slipping away from me, sweet Y/N.” He cups your cheeks. “What’s going on inside this head of yours?”

“I am not like Alys”, you blurt out. “I am not as bold, as free spirited as her. I am not a bad ass woman like her. I don’t… I….”

To your dismay, Aemond bursts into laughters. You fold your arms and frown at him.

“What’s so funny about it?”

“I’m sorry, love. I was just…” He smiles warmly. “Is this what worries you, my darling? I ran away with you, isn’t it clear?”

You tilt your head, confused. Aemond rolls his eyes.

“Aren’t you slow, my dear Y/Nickname? I’ve always wanted you. Not her. I love you, not that bloody woman.”

It’s a very sweet scene to watch: the moment your lips slowly open in a smile, the way your face lightens up, beaming at him.

“My dear Aemond”, you throw your hands around his neck and kisses his cheek. “I love you too. You took too long…”

“Indeed, my lady.”

He smiles wide at your blushing upon his chivalry towards you. And then, of course he kisses your lips passionately.

You are planning to sleep well, but when he comes up, shirtless, and slides next to your side of bed just after turning the air conditioner on… it gets difficult to find some sleep.

Aemond can tell he affects you somehow, noticing how your white blouse poorly covers your breasts, able to spot, therefore, your hardening nipples, which promptly arouses him.

But the bad boy prince takes his time.

“Come here, princess”, as he’s next to you, he cups your face and kisses your lips slowly and passionately. “I still cannot believe we’ve taken so many years to admit we have feelings for each other.”

As your hands are wrapped around his neck, gently pulling him over you, you smile weakly at him.

“You chose that woman, if I remember well.”

“You remember wrongly because I’m with you now, aren’t I?”, and without waiting for response he drowns in your lips.

As you kiss, his hands move to your waist, gently resting around your hips before going upper your back, inside your shirt.

You begin to be bothered by this heat that, for long years now, hasn’t burned you like it does at the moment. You spread your legs so he fits in between, moving your fingers down to his neck and to his shoulders and chest.

Aemond succeeds in breaking the kiss so his tongue starts to explore your weak spots. As it dances around your neck all the whilst his hands lift your shirt, he starts to hear your short breaths out, which only gets him rigid in pants.

“Aemond…”, you mutter his name, already breathing in anticipation the moment his fingers cup your breasts and there begin to play. “Oh Maker!”

He stops a moment what he’s doing just to watch you close your eyes and give in to his caressing. Aemond gently presses his erection against you, getting harder as you rub your feminine parts against him.

“Dear Lord”, he groans low before lifting your blouse and mouth dropping in your exposed nipples.

Oh how hungry you’ve been for his touch, how famine your soul has been for his love!

It does not really help when his hands remove your shorts and right there works wonderfulness in you. To the point where you forget yourself and turn the tables on, completely surprising him.

“Oh baby! You are my drug and I intend to keep it to me”, you confide him, naughtily so, before sliding to your knees.

And Aemond finally knows what’s like to get to Heaven…

***

Should've known I'd be the first to leave. Think about the place where you first met me. In a getaway car. No, they never get far. No, nothin' good starts in a getaway car

The phone rings. It’s an unknown number, but even then Aemond picks up—aware of who might be behind the line.

“Who’s this?”, his rusky voice is heard in a whisper, but his eyes are glued in your nude frame, against which he was tied until now.

“Son”, it’s Viserys, his father.

Almost immediately Aemond freezes.

“Dad”, he speaks in full tension.

“Where have you been, my boy? I miss you.”

Too paralyzed to speak, no word comes out of his tongue. Viserys knows it, so he continues his speech:

“Come home. I haven’t been a good father lately, I know.” He seems to choke with something, and doesn’t really help that the man comes to tears. “Your mother, a very good woman whose character is so sweet and noble, certainly more than I deserved, told me what’s been going on with you. Please my child, come home. We must speak. I cannot bear the burden that so unfairly has been placed over your shoulders because of me. Let us mend this. Together.”

There are many words crossing Aemond’s thoughts and few are kind. Nonetheless, underneath the anger, there is a boy hurting. And aware that the man is probably dying, he sees getting away has done nothing but turned him into a fool.

We cannot escape our issues. Our wounds remain open and bleeding. Perhaps I got addicted to pain.

“Son?”

“Yes, father?” It’s all he manages to say, his own voice embargoed.

“Come home. Please.”

Aemond then looks at you, sleeping peacefully, only partly aware of why you two went anywhere but King’s Landing.

“There is no need to get away from me or your mother. We are family.” He insists in such a melancholic voice that Aemond cannot fight back.

Without realizing it, his own tears are verging on his purple eyes and rolling down his cheeks.

“I will be a better father with the time’s left.” Aemond listens bitterly.

“I am going back”, he sounds defeated. Loyalty has always bound him to family, and it’s not as if he wanted his attention. “Today.”

Aemond doesn’t want to listen any further. Therefore he picks off the phone before Viserys thanks him immensely for it, which would be more embarrassing.

We were jet-set, Bonnie and Clyde until I switched to the other side, to the other side. It's no surprise I turned you in cause us traitors never win…

“I’m sorry, YN.”

In silent tears, every merriment has been left to past, a memory that is not going back. In truth, Aemond has his own issues in regards to settle down.

Despite your good and comprehensive nature, his own claims to be a fugitive. Therefore, that is what he does, no matter the consequences.

Aemond runs away.

***

And when you wake up some hours later, cold has already taken the place in every possible meaning. It’s no surprise that you find your bed empty.

But this doesn’t mean you didn’t have expectations. In fact you did. When rewinding the past few days, you could not understand where everything went wrong.

It hurts and it angers you all the same to think you put your hopes and dreams in this man.

“I should’ve known better”, you think out loud, refusing to waste your tears for him.

You pack your own things and leave the hotel, but the more you try to shield yourself, the more tears threaten to overcome you.

Your phone buzzes a few times but you don’t check it. You instead get a taxi to the train station and there you get a train back to King’s Landing. But in the middle of the way, you change your mind, opting to rent a car and drive it all the way.

It shouldn’t take this long, right?

You open your window, turn the car and, as you get on the road, you accelerate.

Every memory comes in like a dust storm. You know you shouldn’t race. But you shouldn’t love him.

And when your brain listens the motives he had to run, your comprehension leaves your reason. You scream instead.

“YOU STUPID ASSHOLE!”

No pride is enough to hold back a waterfall. And now you drive slowly because your eyes are but a puddle of tears and you refuse to be imprudent, even if the road is empty.

I was ridin' in a getaway car. I was cryin' in a getaway car. I was dyin' in a getaway car.

You are still sobbing by the twilight, when you reach King’s Landing. But your face dries at last by the time you get home.

Heartbreaking is never easy to deal with. Little wonder why you chose to bury yourself in work. As you get your phone, you see there are a few missed calls.

“Fuck you, Aemond Targaryen.”

And you turn off your cellphone.

***

Aemond stops by in front of your household feeling as guilty as a criminal. He tips his fingers against the steering wheel, still inside his car, as he waits for you to go back from work.

It’s an autumn day. You haven’t spoken for two months. You’d act like he was erased from your life and this was worse than he’d expect. In comparison to the burning rage of Alys, you could be snow cold. And he was one judged for his apparent detached behavior.

And then you finally come to his view. Dressed in your fluffy robes, that is to say a red bonnet that matches your red with black stripes gown and Mary Jane shoes, you hold some binders tight as you press the button to get inside the apartment.

Sighing heavily, for even he notices your dispirited demeanor, he knows he cannot delay any longer. In a matter of five minutes, he manages to catch you.

Right before you walk in.

“Aemond!”, you exclaim startled when feeling someone pushing your arm to get your attention.

“Y/N”, he calls your name, staring at you with a deep shade of sadness that so rarely you’d spotted in these irises. “Can we speak?”

Your unreasonable part wants to storm off, to make a scene perhaps, accusing him of so many names. But this is a behavior you, in your late 20’s, cannot tolerate.

“Yes”, you lead him to your apartment, but he can tell how tense you are, how much you are holding back. “Be quick and don’t waste my time.”

When you finally turn at him, Aemond sees the internal rage you were never really good to explore. He knows you well, you’ve grown together.

“I…” his voice chokes, but he must do it if he doesn’t want to lose you for good.

“Well?”

Ignoring your impatience, Aemond takes his mask off. Wearing nothing that is his not broken self, he shortens the distance between you two and then tell you all that’s been happening with him.

Little by little, your rage is knocked down. You have been a side witness of the Targaryen inner mess and the scars this left on your dear Aemond.

“Wounded people wound others”, you remark after he tells you at last and you embrace him, as he breaks in tears. “You know, of all people, I’d understand what you had to do. I would have never asked you to stay. I understand all this weight you were forced to carry… The thing is that you never had to carried alone.”

As you two embrace, a silent, mutual understanding comes. Serenity washes away distress and towards the end of tunnel a light sparks.

“I shouldn’t have gotten away”, he says after a while, looking for your eyes and your knees go weak when spotting vulnerability in them.

“No, my darling, you should not.”

“Will you take me back?”

“Will you stay this time?”

“Yes”, Aemond says firmly this time as he cups your face. “You’ll be my fucking wife, this I know.”

You laugh quietly at his familiar imprudence, but a blush creeks on your cheeks.

“You haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend yet.”

“The time we spent together has counted as relationship.”

Your laughter echoes in the room and Aemond smiles at the sound of it, warming his heart and sweeping away his fears.

“Aren’t you funny, Aem?”

You rest your forehead and rub your nose against his. He gives you a puppy look that inspires you to kiss his lips gently so.

After a while like this, though, he asks:

“Is that a yes or no?”

You giggle like a silly girl. Burying your head onto his shoulders, you feel as if your heart is about to burst.

“Are you serious?”

Aemond rolls his eyes, but you can hear his scoff.

“Of course, I am, woman. You’ll meet my parents this weekend.”

You reluctantly step back, staring at him with eyebrows raised.

“…I am already acquainted as Mr and Mrs Targaryen.”

“Not as my future wife, I’m afraid.”

You laugh again, a sound that is most dear to Aemond, who looks at you with sincere devotion.

“Well then, woman? What do you say?”

“How unusual of you, Aemond. But I wouldn’t expect the other way around. Therefore…”, you smile wide. “How can my answer be other than yes?”

And just like that he spins you around and kisses you dearly. It so appears that your well deserved happily ever after has finally knocked at your door.

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #house targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x female reader #prince aemond #lord Aemond #Taylor swift #reputation #getaway car

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fromasgardandback · 11 months

Text

The Hidden Wheeler

Eddie Munson x Wheeler!Reader

description: Eddie has a crush on the quiet girl who likes to read, but he doesn’t know his perfect girl is the cousin to the Wheeler siblings.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: depression, anxiety, feeling worthless, touch-starved

masterlist | oneshots

Y/N wasn’t a sibling to the Wheeler kids, but a close cousin. She did however live with them due to her parents working outside of the United States and wanting to finish high school at the same school. She lived in the basement in that one tucked in the back room where no one actually went. She was okay with that, but sometimes it made her feel like a shut-in. That her family was embarrassed or obligated to take her on, and financially she was taken care of since her parents sent money, yet that feeling knawed at her at night. After family dinners nightly Aunt Karen went to the kitchen while Uncle Ted went to the living room. Nancy was either in her room or out and Mike was the same way. Holly followed her mom wherever she went, leaving Y/N alone in the basement contemplating her worth. She took that time alone in her room to focus on books, novels, and music. For Christmas, her parents sent her a Walkman with tapes of her favorite bands.

Y/N wasn’t a fan of the preppy kind of music that Nancy listens to, but more of Rock and Metal. Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Guns n’ Roses, Led Zepplin, Metallica, and The Eagles to name a few were her preferences. She decided to listen to one of her records one night without knowing Mike had his friends over for a Dungeon and Dragons campaign. She was lying on her bed with the music at a soft hum and the small window cracked open to have a breeze flow through the room. Y/N softly sang to the music with her eyes closed and imagined herself being at a concert. She dreamed of being on the open road, taking life as what it is, trying to live it to the fullest, and with no hard-set job to tie her down. She was looking into colleges of business management to become a band manager. There was something about the freedom of leaving that helped her try to escape the depressed hole she was stuck in now.

Y/N knew her parents loved her, but they thought her love could be bought. Don’t get her wrong, she was always grateful for the presents they sent, but once she wished they would come home to spend a holiday with her. A Holiday card with an “I love you, Happy Holidays. Love Mom and Dad” with an international postcard. It was somewhere nice as if it seemed like the couple had their daughter obligatorily. Not that she’d ever want to admit it, however, the anxious emotion of them dumping her off with her mom’s sister. Aunt Karen was loving but made sure to focus on herself and her needs as well. Uncle Ted didn’t care too much about his kids let alone his niece whenever he was home. Most of the time he was at work, but Y/N’s relationship with him did not matter to her as much because she never really cared for the man. The home was already strained and distant, yet whenever the family was out and about, the persona of a “perfect family” went into play. Through environment and self-hatred, Y/N craved the touch and love of someone, anyone.

“Is someone else down here? I hear music and singing.” Gareth asked Mike while helping set up the table.

“Oh yeah, that’s my cousin Y/N.” Mike shrugged. “She lives with us.” He pulled out more dice.

Eddie’s ears perked up at her name. The only girl he knew with that name was his Y/N. The girl he crushed on and increasingly grew to fall in love with. But surely, this couldn’t be his Y/N. The girl he sheepishly looked at from afar and sat next to in a few classes. The girl that has ultimately captured his heart.

“I didn’t know she lived with you,” Dustin commented. “You guys would like her, she’s really cool. Quiet, but cool. She likes the same music we do. Eddie, you should invite her to one of your gigs, she would like it.” Dustin smiled gently.

“Yeah? Well, she’s welcome any time if she doesn’t mind hanging out with the weekly five drunks.” Eddie sat in his chair. “Are we ready or we still talking family matters?” He said trying to hide a blush.

Y/N hated taking the bus to school and driving with Nancy was like driving with the most preppiest and annoying morning person you could think of. They were both in their senior year, so Nancy chose to be happy every day before school started to “enlighten her life”. It annoyed Y/N to no end being that she wasn't a morning person. She had to deal with it during the winter months, but if it wasn't too cold, she biked to school. Sometimes she would take the back way and chill out by the picnic table in the woods behind the school. It was a way for her to escape the surroundings that suffocated her.

That morning she thought she was alone until she heard leaves crunching in front of her. She looked up while reaching into her backpack to pull out a screwdriver, her weapon of choice. It was easily accessible and could be used to stab, or so she told herself while awaiting the person to arrive.

“I swear, I am not afraid to put you into a coma.” She said before looking up at the beautiful brown eyes of the person she had developed a major crush on. He stood there in front of her a little shocked by her sudden comment.

“It’s just me, I promise. I didn’t know you came out here.” Eddie said, sitting across from her. His eyes sparkled more in the sunlight that was coming between the tree branches that surrounded them. “It’s normally just me.” He smiled lightly in a calming manner.

“Yeah, sorry I’m taking your space… And threatened you.” Y/N chuckled.

“Well, it did catch me off guard but never be sorry for taking a seat. You’re always welcome here at the Dungeon Master’s Table.” Eddie smirked, while she chuckled at his adorableness. They shared homeroom, Spanish, English, and History together. This made it easily accessible for both of them to develop a crush on each other. Eddie would look over at her while she wrote notes, or read her book quietly. Sometimes his head was way too far into his notebook writing campaign ideas, that when she answered a question, he nearly broke his neck looking up at her. She would sheepishly admire him in the lunchroom while he expressed himself to the whole school.

“H-how’s your campaigns going?” Y/N looked up, trying to make the interaction less awkward, although her shaky voice didn’t help hide her anxiety.

“You know about my campaigns?” Eddie sat up smiling slightly. He didn’t realize that she had noticed him at all. But to notice something that is so important to him, made his heart flutter a little more than when he saw her.

“Of course, Mike talks about it all the time. Most of dinner is Nancy talking about college and Mike talking about how Hellfire is going.” She smiled at him. He looked at her confused. She never mentioned them before, why was she mentioning them now?

“Mike and Nancy? Do you normally go to their house for dinner? Neither of them has mentioned you before.” Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“Oh,” Y/N sounded hurt in her quick reaction. She understood why, she wasn’t a sibling, just a cousin, but still, she went to school with them, lived with them, and was a blood-related family. “I’m their cousin. I live in the basement. They, uh, they don’t really talk about me much. Not that I expect them to, they’re not my siblings. Although living with them, I consider them close, but I know they don’t think of me like that.” She awkwardly chuckled, while nervously continuing to rant. The feeling of a knife digging deeper and deeper into an already traumatic wound came back.

“You’re the cousin in the basement. You listen to rock music and read comics and mystery novels. It all makes sense now. Why haven’t I noticed that Paladin’s cousin is my dream girl.” Eddie smiled wide at her. She looked up at him surprised at his words and so did he. Eddie didn’t mean to say those thoughts out loud that she was his crush, but deciding to confess how he feels about the girl sitting in front of him.

“Y-your what?” Y/N stuttered out a response. She couldn’t have possibly heard him correctly.

“I’m telling the truth when I say this. Y/N, you are my dream girl. I have had this massive crush on you since we met last year. You walked through the halls and the gates of heaven opened up. You’re gorgeous, talented, funny, and have great taste in everything. I’ve been wanting to tell you how I feel, but the constant thought of rejection stopped me.” Eddie sheepishly said with blush-tinted cheeks.

“Eddie, you’ve been my secret crush since last year. I’ve always found you fascinating, animated, and unapologetically yourself. Plus you’re incredibly hot.” She had blush-tinted cheeks covering her face as well. Y/N’s eyes got wider realizing she just called Eddie hot. Eddie himself blushed harder and got shy, which was a side of him she hasn’t seen before.

“Skip school with me today. We don’t have anything going on anyways, it’s the day before break.” Eddie reached over to hold her hand, and she let him.

“Where to, rockstar?” Y/N smirked, feeling the confidence in her spike up.

After they decided to ditch for the rest of the day, they went downtown to look around the record store, see a movie, and talk about miscellaneous things. Eddie learned that she was just like him. Yeah, he knew they had the same taste in music, but it was scarily to a T. They chose a comedy movie while sharing a large popcorn. Both of them reached into the bucket with their fingers brushing against each other. A blush set across their cheeks as they quickly turned their heads back to the screen. Y/N smiled lightly failing miserably at hiding the excitement she felt when he touched her. Eddie’s facial expressions matched hers in feeling electricity when she touched him. Closer to the late afternoon Eddie drove them to Lover’s Lake overlooking the beautiful scenery before them. They began talking about family, school, and personal feelings. He understood how she felt when it came to family matters. The only one that cared about him was his Uncle Wayne, but for Y/N it was like living with strangers.

Eddie and Y/N were inseparable from the moment of their picnic table talk. They talked for hours and hours, especially when coming home after school and when he wasn’t in the club with the guys. Friday nights after Hellfire Club was spent at the local diner for fries and milkshakes. Saturdays were spent at the trailer watching movies or driving around town with no plan or destination set. Sundays were study sessions and Eddie chose to pay attention more in class to graduate. Because of Y/N, he took school seriously. Of course, Eddie wanted to graduate this year, but with the recent times spent with her, he was motivated.

Eddie was motivated to spend more time with her. He was motivated to get done with all his schoolwork on time. He was motivated while writing his campaigns for Hellfire Club. Eddie Munson was motivated to do good by the woman he so easily fell in love with. Even Wayne could see the difference in Eddie the moment he came home with a massive smile and blushed cheeks. Wayne was about to leave for work when he saw Eddie like that, he knew it had to be from a girl. Nothing else made Eddie Munson look like that. For the next couple of months, his entire demeanor changed around her and Wayne. A lovesick puppy in awe and admiration of a lovesick puppy. Neither of them wanted to be out of this phase, and they didn’t have to.

All of Eddie’s friends knew something was different about him, but at lunch, he didn’t change himself. Still, the same metalhead goofball he was, but now with a smile while reading a note that Y/N passed him in the hallway.

“Eddie? What’s up with you man? You’re acting different.” Mike said popping another grape in his mouth.

“What’re you talking about, Wheeler? Nothing’s changed.” Eddie grumbled, tucking the note into his jean jacket pocket.

“Yeah, I’m with Mike. Something is up with you…” Garreth mentioned. “Or maybe, someone not something.” He smiled wider with an evil look.

“It’s a girl!” Dustin yelled earning a smack in the head from Eddie. “No, it’s not. Leave it alone.”

“It’s definitely a girl. Metallica hasn’t released their album yet and there’s nothing new at the Hideout. You’re hung up on a girl.” Jeff chuckled and dodged the pretzel thrown at him.

The rest of lunch the guys teased him about his smile and acting different, while Y/N sat in the corner quietly watching with a smile. She yearned for this kind of connection, never thinking she’d one day be able to have it. She waited for him at the picnic table after school mindlessly doodling in her notebook. She loved the fact that he was all hers and she was all his, but something about being public and showing affection around others was different, and she worried that he didn’t want the same.

“Hey, Babygirl,” Eddie said walking up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her deeply. She leaned into his embrace kissing him back with the same passion.

“Can we talk about something?” She whispered after pulling away from him.

“Did I do something? Princess, if I did, I’m sorry.” Eddie was quick to ramble out.

“No,” she chuckled lightly. “I um… I was wondering if you wanted to go public with our relationship?” She played with the rings on her fingers, not daring to look up at him.

Eddie was in shock, he didn’t think she’d want to considering what her home life was like.

“Are you sure? I mean I know you were apprehensive.-”

“I’m sure. I want to laugh with you in front of others. I want to kiss you in the hallways before class and at the diner. I want to hold hands and not care who’s looking. I’ve never felt this way with anyone before and I want to feel this and enjoy what we have together.” Y/N cut him off and poured her heart out to him. Eddie couldn’t have smiled more thinking and dreaming of all the things he just heard her say.

“I want that too.” He smiled that big goofy grin of his. “I want us public, not caring who is around.” He cupped her face in his hands, leaning in to kiss her. She leaned into him as well, kissing his soft lips with love and passion.

Eddie and Y/N graduated that year happily together with plans to move in together when they had the money. For now, she moved into the trailer with him and Uncle Wayne. Wayne couldn’t have been happier to have her there, especially after getting cold-shouldered by her family except Mike and Nancy. The future held their love closer as Corroded Coffin took off and Y/N’s dream of writing gave her massive success as well. She was no longer a hidden Wheeler from the world, but the well-known author and wife of rock star Eddie Munson.

#sarah's specials #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #nancy wheeler #mike wheeler #steve harrington #robin buckley

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felloweeper · 4 months

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differences from book -> series: the cufflinks.

context: [december 23, 1953] this is the scene where we're first introduced to the cufflinks. it's christmas and they're serving post-coital realness (i have no other way of explaining this rn).

this is one of the most dramatic differences between the book and the series, because what on earth. this is such a tender moment of rare openness from hawk in the series. it's such a clear declaration of love with the implication of possession and a what's-mine-is-yours kind of deal.

we get the same feeling in the book but in a much darker tone. we see, first of all, how small and undeserving tim feels in the presence of hawk. i'd go as far as to say tim uses the cufflinks to self-harm. "the way one forgets a pain in one place by introducing another somewhere else." tim is actively chasing the pain of loving this man away in the form of causing bodily harm to himself. (🚩 x a million.)

yes, there's tenderness in hawk giving the cufflinks to tim and going as far as putting them into his dress shirt himself -- but the number of times tim doesn't even let himself believe that it's a special thing for him is awful. he thinks he's so undeserving that, in the end, he convinces himself that they were his reward for not showing his emotions! and to add hawk's passiveness with "'i'm going to be late, skippy.'" ✋ don't get me started. the coldest cherry on top -- agh!

overall, this scene makes me feel sick. it's not at all like the series -- and thank god for that! the show made it so much more heartwarming and loving. they look happy, they look like they both love what the cufflinks symbolize -- they adore each other!

context: [april 7, 1954] this never made it into the series, but tim has a boss named tommy mcintyre who is very aware of the situation between tim and hawk, but doesn't really mind it. (this character kind of grew into the roy cohn moment which i thought was ridiculous but this is not the post for that.) klein is another assistant to a different senator who pops up like thrice when they're talking politics.

i really liked tommy as a character, i felt he had really great moments in the book i wished they'd kept in the series, but oh well. again, he knew about tim and hawk and would go as far as to tease them about it. anyway, this is a great example of tim's lies that "people like himself learned to construct a dozen times a day."

context: [december 25, 1954/april 22, 1957] tim is home for the holidays with his sister, frances, at their grandmother's. frances is older and is married with children.

how do i... like how do i even begin.

i put it best in my notes:

honestly, favorite character? absolutely tim's sister. she does everything i wish i could have done for tim -- she's such a supportive force of nature for him, it's so nice to see.

in the show, she's there for him while he's suffering from aids, so she's fully aware of the fact that he's gay and completely devotes all of her time to him anyway. in the book, she shows this unconditional love toward him in the best way she can when she recognizes he's in love with another man.

this is heartbreaking because, in my opinion, that was their escape. she was there and so willing to welcome hawk into her home -- without having ever met him -- because she saw how much tim loved and treasured him. she was ready to love him, too, and to include him in their family. i wonder, sometimes, what would have happened if she had actually ever met him. if that would've ever made a difference in hawk's decisions and the fate of their relationship.

and because tim can't be normal and recognize his self-worth for one second:

also! the difference in using the cufflinks to inflict pain! tim uses it to distract himself, but she uses it to anchor him to the present and pay attention to what she's telling him.

context: [october 16, 1991] hawk is on the phone with his old employee, mary, where she's telling him details of tim's life and death.

..........................

that's all i have to say about that! 😊

#fellow travelers #tim laughlin #hawkins fuller #the cufflinks #book vs tv #book vs series #mentions of self harm #sorry this is a bit overdue! hopefully worth the wait #partially wanted to wait to see if they would mention it in the finale #and have also been just catching up on life #as always lmk what you think!

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echo-goes-mmm · 7 months

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Ambrose and Elliot #15

Masterlist

Warnings: torture, explicit non-con, light starvation, slight death wish

Once upon a time, a few years ago or more, there was a slave. His name was [REDACTED] and he served his Master faithfully. Because anything less than perfection was punished. But [REDACTED] couldn’t remember if he was being punished or not. It was hard to remember much of anything when his back was on fire.

He cried out as Master brought down the cane again. And Again. And Again.

“Please, I'm sorry, Please-” Master scoffed. His head and back hurt so much and the room was spinning and he just wanted it to stop.

“Get up.” [REDACTED] sobbed in relief. It was over.

But his arms were too weak to push himself up off the stone floor, and his legs refused to move at all.

“I said. Get. Up.”

“I- I’m trying Master, please, I-”

Master’s boot slammed into his back, grinding the heel into the fresh wounds and welts. He wailed, the pain turning his vision to white.

“Get up,” said Master, but it was impossible. [REDACTED] didn’t move, too confused to react, and Master twisted his heel again. Now he understood. This wasn’t a punishment or even for Master’s amusement. This was a lesson.

___________________

Master’s hips slammed into him. Breathe he reminded himself, but then Master grabbed his hair, and the air escaped him. Master moaned behind him, and his legs throbbed. His lungs struggled to keep up, but Master enjoyed this position and that was all that mattered.

Soon enough Master let go in favor of a bruising grip on his hips. [REDACTED]’s arms gave out, and he heard Master groan again. They’d been at it for a while, and blood dripped from between his legs and stained the bed sheets. It hurt so much. He tried to relax, tried to make his thoughts drift somewhere else, but his brain wasn’t working today.

Finally, Master finished, and the warmth of his cum was indistinguishable from his own blood.

Master shoved him away, and left to clean himself up in the bathroom. [REDACTED] sat on the floor for a moment, catching his breath. He had precious few minutes to change the sheets before Master wanted to sleep, and he planned to use them all. His cock was still hard, unfortunately, and that had its own awfulness. Why couldn’t his body hate it as much as the rest of him? The best he could do was ignore it.

He changed the sheets, careful to keep his own disgusting mess away from the soft fabric. Thankfully he’d stopped bleeding by the time he got to wiping the floor. Once, he hadn’t managed it, and Master mocked him for trying to clean while still dripping.

Master was nicer, after sex. Or maybe he was too sated and tired to do much more than yell at him. Either way, it was a break. Even if it came with a high price.

___________________

He hated winter. Master’s stone floors were unforgiving. [REDACTED] wasn’t allowed more than what Master gave him, and Master seemed to forget his slave felt cold too. His only allowance for winter was a threadbare pair of socks in addition to his usual shirt and boxers.

Lighting the fires was the warmest he'd get for months.

His teeth chattered all the time, and occasionally Master gagged him to stop the sound. Of course, he wasn’t allowed to take it out, so sometimes he missed his meal of the day.

Master was lazy during the cold months, and his punishments were lighter. [REDACTED]’s favorite punishment was more of a reward, so he tried really hard to hate it enough that Master wouldn’t catch on.

It was a tiny closet Master would lock him in, sometimes for days. But the small room heated quickly from his meager body heat, and it was nearly pleasant. If he curled up really small, he could sit and enjoy the warmth.

Spring would always come eventually, but some years he wondered if he would die before the snow melted. Sometimes he even wished he would.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme

#behold: another flashback!#and finally some whump #yeah i hate winter too. its that handshake meme #me + elliot + ambrose: hating the cold #note: yes this is Elliot #Ambrose and Elliot #my writing #whump #slavery whump #intimate whumper

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kanekoii · 6 months

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sonny where hes childhood friends w the reader and they reconnect after years of not seeing each other (they become friends again and start hanging out again) and their old crush on each other gets rekindled or however u word it... (ive been having SO much brainrot recently i am not ok) anyways scenario of that if u dont mind?

lyra’s notes -> anon…you’ve given me the opportunity to write my favorite genre of fic…

pairing -> sonny brisko x gn! reader

genre -> scenario, angst, attempt at slowburn (my fav genre)

song -> gravitation - oneus

warnings -> attempt at slowburn, i’m sorry this fic is SO long, slight hint at soulmates au at the end

sometimes sonny really wondered wether or not you felt anything at all for him. it was a constant back and forth, much like the uneven orbit of a planet that was much more realistic than the commonly envisioned perfect orbit. when you were smaller children, the both of you were too young to understand the logic of drifting away from each other. yet as the years went on, he became more distant. the final nail in the coffin was when he moved away and you had lost contact completely with him.

he had never left your mind, and you sometimes stared at the stars, silently wishing he was looking at the same ones from wherever he happened to be, somewhere in the world. you had only one remnant of sonny, a necklace with a charm on it, the other half presumably still one of his most prized possessions.

sonny sighed to himself as he stared at the blank sheet of paper. perhaps these feelings would be better expressed to you in person, but would be really have the confidence to give these feelings a voice when you stood in front of him for the first time in years? he doubted the things about you that he had come to not just appreciate but to love with all his heart would have disappeared with the time spent apart, but all these emotions sonny kept to himself would ultimately mean nothing had he not given himself a chance to voice them at all. he’s a hardworking man; all the things he wanted, he worked to achieve. the only thing out of his grasp, and even then it was only ever so slightly, was your love. he wore his half of the necklace every day in a hopeless kind of hope that one day it would mean as much to you as it did to him.

the emotions the commanding officer of the virtual special forces flowed out through his pen and onto the previously blank paper that sat on his desk, waiting to be given a meaning to exist at all. he sent out the letter to you before he could second guess himself, or else all the words he had allowed to escape his heart would be ultimately meaningless and he’d be plunged into the darkness that is keeping these feelings a secret. with his luck, you would have found someone else by now. yet some, ever so small part of his heart and mind held so tightly onto the hope that you’d one day love him as if it were his last lifeline. that hope had been driving him forward since the day he left, so what was a little more?

as you walked to the spot the letter had asked you to meet him, you saw his familiar face, standing nervously in the crowd. the world seemed to fall away before you as you ran towards him as fast as your body would allow. every second, every minute had led to this moment as your heart practically beat out of your chest amidst the blurred colors of the people around you. as you jumped into his arms, he seemed to be the only thing in the universe that had mattered at all.

your love for him grew ever stronger as you spent days together through the summer and autumn, coming to a head in winter when he finally expressed his love for you through a kiss. maybe you were destined to gravitate together by the red thread connecting your hearts. through all, that thread had never broken or disconnected. you were quite literally destined to be with him.

#lyr.fic #nijien x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji x reader #nijien #sonny brisko x reader #sonny brisko #sonny brisko x you #i needed this excuse to write something slightly less fluffy

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armpirate · 5 months

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The Only One || JJK || Ch. 40

Pairings: mafia!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, mafia, contract relationship

Warnings: Prostitution, torture, blood, use of drugs and weapons

Summary: You've always wished for a better life. Every single day at work, you were hoping something would change. Although you didn't think that change would come in the form of one mysterious man and a contract.

His controlling and selfish behaviour only wanted to keep you away from any other man that wasn't him, and you only had to wait for him.

Too bad you really thought you'd be smarter than Jeon Jungkook.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 11 minutes

Y/n could tell Jungkook was tense, it was perfectly seen on the way his jaw was clenched and his spine completely straight as he sat on the chair of the safe house. It wasn't like he usually had a bad posture, but he tended to sit more comfortably whenever they were at home. His eyes were also lost somewhere in the room, while the reverse of his index and middle fingers were caressing his own chin back and forth.

Seeing Yejun woke all the suspicions he could ever have on him. He was like his second son, protected under the big feathers of Jungho when his father died when trying to escape the cops during an operation in Busan.

Before his father died, Jungkook thought Yejun was the one who'd take his father's position in the family. Mainly because, unlike him, he'd blindly follow every order and would take every advice as if it was some holy word he couldn't omit. That boy was everything his father had ever expected of him. And the fact that he was in Spain, when neither of the Bangtan members claimed his presence there, smelled awfully bad. It also meant that the plan they all were getting ready for needed to be rushed.

Yejun was there to kill him and take his place.

—What are you thinking? —Y/n interrupted his thoughts, hugging him from behind.

—I'm just wondering what we should do today —he sighed.

—There are many things I could do with one spoon, so don't test my patience —she squeezed him tight, making him scoff weakly—. Tell me what's up.

—I'm worried —he admitted.

—Is it because of me?

Jungkook's silence was deafening for her. Going back and forth to that conversation made her feel like a burden. Sometimes she felt like she was one problem added to the long list he had to deal with.

—I told you I'll be okay —she assured him—. And it's not like you won't be here to make sure I am indeed okay —her head patted his—. Let's enjoy today. I want to forget about everything going on around us.

When she was about to stand back normally while she let go of him, Jungkook rushed to hold her wrists tight, making sure her arms wouldn't leave his neck -at least, not yet.

—I want to stay like this a bit more —Jungkook whispered.

He had never been needy, he had never pushed for contact with her, but that day he craved it like he'd go long without touching her. And while he knew it wasn't supposed to end that way, he was scared something would go the wrong way at some point. The other side rushing their moves forward, or even something about their plan missing could have a poor ending for them.

Y/n did move despite his petition to stay like that, surrounding the chair he was sat on to lie on his lap instead. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed when she was finally able to look at his face, and the glimpses of concern going through his eyes with every blink was breaking her heart.

—Don't look at me that way —she asked him, moving her fingers up his neck.

—Like what?

—Like this is the last time you're looking at me —trying to relax him, her fingers started playing with the locks on his nape.

He'd have loved to drop one bad joke, or a lame pick up line that could make her giggle, but his brain wasn't able to think of something else.

Again, his silence and the way his look intensified made a knot tie tight on her throat, making her aware that there was no way she could soften that day. There wasn't a word or action that she could make to ease his mind, and her worries were also breaking through all her barriers when she was aware there was no way to stop her thoughts.

Jungkook saw the way her chin trembled as she pressed her lips tight to hold back from crying. And as soon as she looked away, she saw something shiny falling from her face to her thigh. Holding her chin so she wouldn't hide her tears from him, he slowly moved her face back to him. She didn't need to hide her weakness or her pain, he knew the trouble she had been going through ever since she was told about the plan. She didn't need to build that thick rough facade for him either. She was still stronger than him, even if she broke out in worry in front of him like she was doing.

—I know I told you it was going to take a while until we got to the next step.

Y/n was only thinking how he shouldn't have reminded her, because it only made her chest burn even harder. She was calm thinking they would have more time, and that she could get to the idea of seeing him risking his life the way he was going to. But when he told her the previous night it had to happen earlier than expected, she didn't know how to feel and decided to save those thoughts for when the moment came, because she just wanted to spend time with him.

—And I know I've been so selfish to you already that I have no right to ask you for anything else —his thumb softly caressed the skin under her lower lip—, but have faith in me. I'll make it all work to be right next to you.

She didn't know if it was the soft tone in his voice, the hidden guilt behind his words, or the way his eyes were shining through the pain, but more tears piled in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably when she tried to say a word.

—If you die today, I'll die with you —she sobbed, hiding her face in his neck.

His arms wrapped tight around her body, holding her tight when her words threw some realization onto him. She was genuinely scared, to the point of not even making the effort of joking back like she had done other times, assuring him she'd kill him herself.

—I promise it'll be alright —he assured her—. And when this is over, I'll give you the life you deserve.

—Stop thinking about the life you think I deserve —she shook her head—, just promise me you won't be risking your ass again.

He scoffed at that comment, squeezing her body in his, trying to replace those sobs and snorts with some cracked giggles. It didn't have to be as sad as they were making it. He was certain he'd get back to her either way, he could tell she trusted him enough to know he wouldn't let a single thing get on his way when it came to being with her.

Everything would turn out well for the two of them. They needed to think that way.

✸ ✸ ✸

They both spent the day outside, like it was planned. His hand held tight on hers as they walked, followed by two of his guards from afar. From outside, it seemed like a normal couple on an average day, but they both knew it was far from average. There was nothing relaxing about it, there was nothing to enjoy that day.

His phone buzzed in his pocket with a message that warned him Yejun had been spotted in the area where they were, and it was like he had been waiting to feel the vibration the whole morning -or since the plan started to work. It was the last warning he needed to get the chain of events to start off.

His lips gave her the most tender kiss, almost as if he was really thinking he'd never kiss her again. It was one last taste of what happiness felt like, before he had to give up on it -even if it was only for a few weeks. There were many ways the plan could go wrong, and he just needed one last motivation to step out and put an end to everything that had been hurting the two of them.

—I'll see you in Seoul in three weeks —he caressed her cheek.

—Don't do anything stupid until I get there.

Jungkook raised his eyebrows, hinting at what he was about to do.

—I mean aside from this.

Jungkook kissed her forehead for one last time, before he patted his head. His expression changed as he started making his way to the car, the same one where Yejun was caught moving away from and the same one where one of his bodyguards was trying to keep him next to. There was only one place for traitors, and Jungkook was willing to show him a burning taste of it.

—Is there a problem? —he asked, once he reached the two men.

—I was telling Yejun that you wanted him to go in the same car as you.

Jungkook nodded, poking his hands inside his pockets before his eyes landed on the young boy in front of him. While he tried to show himself calm, his eyes were radiating a panic he wasn't able to control.

He wasn't supposed to know he was there. Jungho assured him no one would know, and no eyes would be on him. He only needed to do one last thing to get Bangtan to be the family he knew before Jungkook took over it, but what he was aiming to do turned upside down when he was told to join the boss in the car.

—It's better if I go in a different car —he stuttered.

—I told you to get in the fucking car —Jungkook stepped ahead, standing just centimeters away from him—. Is there any reason why you can't?

Yejun gulped thickly, taking a quick look at the black Audi next to him. Giving one look to the tall man standing at their left, he gave one last order without having to speak up.

It was the beginning of the end for all the games and twisted acts everyone around him had pulled.

The young boy held onto his jeans tight when Jungkook sat next to him. He was caught, and he was trapped in the same coffin he had prepared for him, and there was no way out.

—For how long?

—What?

Jungkook sighed, twisting his head before he turned to look at Yejun. He understood the question perfectly, and the intention behind it , there was no point in repeating it, yet he did.

—For how long have you known my father was alive? Or, better, for how long have you been in contact with him?

There was a heavy silence, where the only thing that was heard were the drowned voices from the people in the street.

—Since the beginning —he sighed—. He knew you wouldn't be able to keep up with the leadership.

—So he faked his death to put me on a test? —his pierced eyebrow raised with his question.

The attack never made sense for him. Because, even after looking into it, there was no reason for the other families to put that type of attack on Bangtan. The idea of him being so twisted to put him through all of that, at such a young age, only because he wanted to test him like a rat in a lab just reinforced the kind of man Jungkook knew his father was.

—I told you having Y/n around wasn't a good idea.

He scoffed at that comment, not allowing him to react before he grabbed some of his locks by the scalp and smacked his head against the panel of the door.

—I'll tell you what's not a good idea —he sneered, picking him up by the hair, to see the trail of blood falling from his forehead—: thinking I'd allow any of you two to do any harm to her. You seriously thought you could set a bomb in my car and I wouldn't notice? Don't worry though, you'll comply with your mission. I'll die today, but you're dying with me.

—Jungkook, please...

But he didn't listen. Giving two knocks on his window, he ordered the man outside to take the driver's spot.

From afar, Y/n's calmness was suddenly interrupted by a huge explosion and several screams from the people that came from the area. The ground trembled for four seconds, but she lost touch with reality when she saw the smoke rising from behind one of the buildings. She was urged to run to the place, to check whether Jungkook was okay or not, but her movements were stopped by one of the bodyguards that had been looking after them during their morning. She tried to fight against him, but ended up giving up and falling to the ground when she knew it was of no help. Life stopped having any sound, she wasn't even able to hear her own voice when she screamed, still fighting the man that was just trying to make sure she'd be alright.

She expected anything to happen. When Jungkook told her he'd try to play with Yejun's attempt to kill him in his favor, she expected a fight, gunfire... anything.

—Please —she begged in between sobs—. Please, tell me he's alright. Please —her voice cracked with desperation.

She was wondering how he'd be able to escape the trap he settled himself in.

✸ ✸ ✸

3 weeks later

She heard the sound of her heels cracking the wooden floor she walked over, stopping in front of a grayish door that led to the basement.

—Is it here? —she asked, turning her serious expression to the Asian man next to her.

After that long trip she took to Seoul, after all the headaches she went through with the police during his funeral, there was only one thing she needed to fully recharge and gain strength to go on. She was sure she wouldn't be able to make it that way any longer.

—Yeah —Namjoon nodded, patting her back—. Good luck there. He's been here for three weeks, almost. He's probably a bit deranged at this point.

—I'll handle him —she assured him.

Raising his arms up in the air, he left it all in her hands. She just smiled, suddenly feeling nervous when her hand reached the knob. She was struggling to control her emotions just by the idea of seeing him, she knew she'd turn into a complete mess the second she stepped inside the room he was in.

She filled her lungs after a deep breath when the door clicked ahead of her, pushing it further to step inside the small room. The lightning was poor, barely illuminating anything inside of it despite there being plenty of daylight outside -and it made sense for her when she was aware there were no windows there.

—Hey, boss —she called him.

Her voice, along with that playful tone, worked like a siren voice on a pirate, making his head turn to her with a smile slowly forming on his face.

Taglist: @kaiparkerwifes @sheylamc @amy2006jones @allamericanuniverse @00frenchfries00 @massivelyfullenthusiast

#fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #mafia!au #The Only One #reader insert #armpirate

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thelovelylolly · 1 year

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Hii im new too is blog but first of all i really enjoy reading is posts and you for taking the time to write <33

TW; abuse

Could you maybe do a platonic hellfire/eddie munson x reader where she's a member of the club and they all view her as a little sister but she is billy's biological little sister and he used to protect her against neil (lets say he never left hawkings) but since he died she's became the main target of his abuse, so they begin too notice and maybe eddie and the guys beat the shit out of neil when they onetime come to pick her up for a game while neil and her are having a bad fight.

I was in a situation like this a year ago and i wish i had friends like that

Sorry of this is a triggering subject!!

Stick Together

Summary : After the death of your brother, your father's abuse is redirected towards you and your brother isn't there to protect you anymore, but Eddie and the rest of Hellfire are. Warnings : physical and verbal abuse, mentions of death, violence. this is one of my heavier fics so please read with caution! (let me know if ive missed any warnings) Notes : thank you for the kind words and the request <3 i hope i did it justice and im sorry you had to go through something like this.

You missed Billy. You wished he didn't die because then your dad wouldn't divorce your step-mom and separate you and Max. Then you wouldn't be alone. You wouldn't be forced to deal with your dad's abuse.

It didn't start right away. The first time was a few days after the funeral. He had a bit too much to drink and hit you when you tried to clean up the beer bottles scattered around the house. Your step-mom and Max had already moved out and it was just you and your dad. You didn't have anyone to call out for anymore.

You tried to fight back the first time, but he just got more angry. You don't remember much from that day. All you do remember is your dad hit you, you had bruises and you cried yourself to sleep.

It would only get worse as time went on.

You tried to spend most of your time at school or somewhere else, but your dad would get pissed off for you not being home on time. You went home right after school like he asked, but he would find little reasons to get mad and yell at you. Sometimes he wouldn't touch you, just point out every little imperfection you had.

You were so tired of it, you wished for Billy to come back and protect you. You just wanted to feel some sense of normalcy and happiness in your life.

You found that happiness and normalcy in the Hellfire Club.

You had joined the club a month or so after you moved to Hawkins and you were quickly accepted by the group of outcasts. You were happy that you got to escape from real life for a bit. The leader of the club, Eddie, became one of your closest friends. You two spent time together outside of the club, but you never told him about your home life. You didn't tell anyone in the club about your home life and you didn't want them to find out.

It was a Saturday and you were waiting for Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire club to pick you up for another session. You stayed in your room, to yourself, while your dad recovered from a hangover. You had your comics to keep you company. Your headphones were on and your music was blasting in your ears, so you didn't hear your dad yelling your name.

You did hear the aggressive banging on your door though. You immediately stopped your music, tossed your headphones and comic to the side, and grabbed your bag before opening the door.

"Did you not hear me screaming your name?" He spat.

"Sorry, I had my headphones on."

"I don't care, you're making my headache worse."

You stayed quiet, trying to slip by him but he blocked you from leaving your room.

"Did I say you could leave?"

"Please, dad, my friends are on their way to pick me up-"

"You didn't tell me you had plans."

"I do. Now, please let me go."

"I didn't say you could leave!" He yelled, causing you to flinch away. He noticed your flinch and dryly laughed. "You're just like Billy, you're weak."

"You don't get to talk about him like that!"

He slapped you across the face. It stung and you froze in shock, letting him grab you and shove you against your wall.

Eddie tapped his wheel impatiently. He had the rest of the club in his van, they were just waiting for you. He hit his horn a few times but you still hadn't come out yet. Eddie glanced at his watch then sighed.

"I'm gonna go get her," he said, unbuckling and turning off the van. He got out and started up the short pathway to the front door.

Eddie knocked once, waited only to get no answer, then knocked again. He tried to look inside the windows but couldn't see anyone. He twisted the door knob, just to see if it was unlocked, and it was. He slowly cracked open the door, calling your name.

Then he heard you scream.

Eddie swung the door open and raced inside, running down the hall. He quickly found you cornered by who he assumed was your dad. You had a red mark on your cheek and a few bruises on your face and arms. Your teary eyes met Eddie's and your dad spun around to see who you were looking at.

"Who the hell are you?!" You dad yelled, taking a step towards Eddie.

"Eddie, please leave," you said quietly, taking shaky breaths. Eddie just stood there, looking between you and your dad.

"Why are you in my house?!" Your dad yelled before grabbing Eddie's shirt.

Eddie swung and punched your dad in the cheek, his rings cutting your dad. You were frozen, watching your dad try to hit Eddie back but Eddie was quicker. He kept hitting your dad until he was down on the ground and a bloody mess. And you just watched him go down.

"Get to the van!" Eddie yelled amongst grunts from him and your dad.

You hesitated for a second before stumbling out of your room. A sob escaped your lips as you ran out of your home and to Eddie's van. You tugged the door open and quickly got inside.

You friends kept calling your name but you couldn't hear them. You were just trying to control your breathing and calm down. You don't know how long it took, but by the time you did, Eddie was in the van and driving off.

You saw the blood on his knuckles and rings as he gripped the steering wheel. He looked back at you through the rearview mirror.

"Are you okay?"

You looked at everyone else in the van, the little family you had found, and you knew you were safe. You took a deep yet shaky breath.

"I'll be okay."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

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poisonedfate · 2 months

Text

arthur is the king, and, really, there should be no surprise that others have his best interest at heart. it should be no surprise they tell him to be careful, be safe, stay on the good side of things. it’s not like this is the first time it’s happened. though, usually, the sentiments aren’t so fractured, full with abrupt sentences and changed minds, always buzzing past the him’s. it was as if everyone had the same person in mind, but no one was willing to spell it out.

he wanted to ignore it, he did. arthur had other things to worry about, but there was something, somewhere in his head that couldn’t quite let it go. and so he asked. he inquired from servants, though they only shook their heads and whispered quiet apologies. a knight it was then. he had planned to seek out leon, but before he could make that happen, the day changed course and suddenly lancelot practically offered himself up.

the knight began his regards just like the others had, with well wishes. for a second arthur thought maybe, just maybe, lancelot would escape his brewing fate, wouldn’t mention the him that everyone else had. where the others had looked away at least thrice, lancelot kept his eyes steady, no tangible nervousness or stutter of a blink. but alas, there it came.

“just don’t allow for him to stay this way,” lancelot said, continuing on as if arthur would understand.

and well, maybe he would have, but arthur had stopped listening. he retreated into his head, attempting to explain away the confusion on his own.

“lancelot,” he said, not sure if the other had finished speaking or not, “who is everyone referring to?”

he could see lancelot hold back what seemed like a sigh.

“just talk to him,” he replied unhelpfully.

arthur wasn’t about to let him off like that, but as lancelot’s gaze flickered away for a mere second, returning back to arthur quickly, as quickly as his expression had changed to reflect a pointed look in his eyes. arthur looked back, and there he was.

of course this was about merlin. wasn’t it always?

“do you have something to say?” he asked merlin later that day, the two of them alone in his chambers.

“me? no, not all,” merlin replied quickly, without even looking at him, as he continued with his task.

arthur wished he could remain ignorant for longer, coaxing merlin to answer his questions honestly without having to lay it all out for him. but arthur was set to leave early next morning, and there was simply no time for it.

“then why is everyone suddenly so worried about me on your accord?” he let the annoyance bleed into his voice, but only slightly.

“you’re blaming me for people’s worries? oh, don’t be so modest,” the other replied with a defiant smile.

“merlin, i need you to not…do you not trust me?” he was staring at merlin now, trying to read whatever the other was trying to hide.

“of course i trust you, i have done so until now, why would that suddenly change?” something short of offended played in the way he spoke, though arthur was quite sure it was an act.

they continued the back and forth for a little while, the familiarity of it distracting arthur. he knew he could be quite unaware sometimes, but even better than he knew that - he knew merlin. he recognised how the smiles didn’t feel the same, how his eyes had almost fallen to a darker shade of blue lately.

he got up from the table, walking closer to merlin, not wanting him to slip away somehow.

“it’s going to be alright, merlin,” he said, eyes locked pointedly on merlin’s own.

the other glared back, not saying a word, a shine appearing as he blinked.

#i’m gonna finish this tomorrow #maybe #i’m falling asleep #will i remember what my idea was?#who knows #i could keep this in my drafts but hey #LOVE talking about eyes #anyways #bbc merlin #merthur #ficlet #?#unfinished #just a little idea

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seraphinitegames · 2 years

Note

Hi. A few years back i left a message here, stating my gratefulness- TWC has helped me come to terms with my gender identity. You may not remember it, but your response has made me incredibly validated and helped me accept myself.

Ive been having a hard time lately, and because nothing was helping, i tried to think back to things that brought me comfort before. I remembered your books. The past month i spent doing different routes, sometimes even redoing ones ive already gone through (specifically Adam's, because gotta love a good slowburn) and it feels like home. Like im supposed to be there.

I admire you so much. Your work is one of the greatest things Ive come across, and im not even exaggerating. Ive followed your social media for quite a while, and Would see your posts occasionally, and honestly... Your dedication to this book is inspirational. The Way you love your work so much makes reading ten- no, a hundred times better, because you know that the author put care into every single Word.

Its something that made me feel immense respect, your motivation, dedication and Discipline are, by my estimation, insane (In the Best Way possible.)

Im so sorry for any spelling/grammar/punctuation mistakes, im writing this on a tiny, laggy Phone, but i really felt i needed to share my feelings.

I genuinely wish you all the Best. The Wayhaven Chronicles has brought me, and many others, im sure, the warmth nothing else Could provide at the worst moments, and im grateful for every scene, for all the moments i got to live through while reading.

I love your work and i love you, as an author. I wish you all the time and patience in the world. Thank you for every thing.

Wayhaven was always meant to be an escape. A safe haven for people to enjoy and just immerse themselves in to be somewhere else with characters who care for as long as they need.

Myself included!

One of the reasons I want the characters to be so reactive to personality and choices and things is because I want people to be able to play as themselves if they want! Why play as someone else when you’re already so awesome?

But there is always the option of exploring different characters too and seeing how that goes. I have soooo many MCs just because I am addicted to seeing how different personality and skills interact, hehe! :D

Wayhaven is my life and my love. I pour my entire soul and being into this series. But knowing there are people who value that and appreciate that brings even more meaning to it.

This is such an incredible message, thank you so much for taking the time to stick with me throughout all this time as well as getting in contact again. It really does mean the world to me, even though I can't express it anywhere near enough in mere words! <3

#the wayhaven chronicles #interactive fiction #asks #personal

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itsahotminuteinbetween · 5 months

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do we get to kiss the narnia au blorbos 👀 how does our relationship with them develop throughout the course of the story? how does it start with both sun and moon and how does it end up? any significant trouble spots you can hint at without spoilers (unless you dont care abt spoiling!!)

and also i forgot if you already pointed this out somewhere but is there an aslan character? if so, who?

*inhales*

THANK YOU

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME TALK ABT THIS

okay. SO:

Yes, you probably will get to kiss the narnia blorbos...probably. Thing is, I'm not really good at developing romance plots (mostly cuz my brain never actually goes that far in planning and I always get caught up in leading events), but yes, I'm hoping I can actually get that far.

In terms of development...? Definitely Sun first, simply because he falls hard the second he meets you. Unfortunately, it's less because of you and more because of his past with humans and how scarce they are. You're the first human he's ever actually been able to talk to, you're there and you're real, and he doesn't want to let go of that. And it gets even better when he realizes that you like him too; after all, why else would you keep coming back to this dull and dreary world? He hasn't talked to anyone in a long time, and he doesn't want to give that up so soon, and of course, he has to protect what's his, doesn't he? Yes yes yes,especially in a world as dangerous as this one! He feels a strong need to protect you, especially after you meet Moon, who has a...slightly less pure love for you.

(Keep in mind, by the way, that Sun can be just as dangerous as Moon should he choose to be.)

Moon is definitely interested in you upon meeting you, but for...other reasons. He hasn't seen a human around in a long time either, or at least, not one who's lasted so long without his notice. Sun's lucky that Moon looks out for him, or the White Witch would surely punish them both for not handing them over. Thankfully, Moon is there to correct Sun's grave error by collecting the human himself! He hasn't had a new charge to tend to in a while, after all.

The Stone Garden is quiet up on the hill.

Moon does find you sweet and charming in your own little way, and he likes you, but like Sun, he wants to keep you for himself, and so he tries to convince you to take up his offer on visiting the Stone Garden and stopping by sometime, he's sure you'd like it, and he could protect you so well, just like all his other silent charges. You're so fragile, and fragile things need to be protected, yes yes, that's his job, the silent protector. And you're on board with it, too! Sure, he hasn't specified how long your visit would be, but you didn't seem to mind, none of his charges did in the end, or else they would surely say something about it. Every time he tries to take you, though, something pops up, and you leave him behind. Someday, he thinks, someday he'll have you all to himself.

Anything that could get you in trouble...? Well, a lot of things, actually, not that you really seem to mind. You find a good deal of interest in this world and its inhabitants, and they're all so friendly. Fortunately enough for everyone keeping a lookout for you, your obliviousness keeps you blissfully ignorant of all that goes on in the woods, and everyone is free to conspire as they wish. A few words of advice Moon's charges could have given you if they could voice them, however:

Trust no one.

Do not test the Dark Moon.

Beware the White Rabbit.

Avoid caves.

Don't eat anything offered.

Leave while you still can.

As for Aslan....

*laughs nervously*

weeeeelllll, someone suggested it being Michael, but the image of Freddy as a literal god was just to hilarious not to include, so I left it at that. Unfortunately I don't know much game lore regarding Michael (I really gotta do some research when I have the time), but I'd probably include him in Aslan's army as one of the people who escaped before Afton rose to power. After that, none of Aslan's followers were able to leave on account of being trapped in ice, and most of them were swiftly dealt with.

#asks #narnia au #THANK YOU FOR THE QUESTIONS #I REALLY APPRECIATE IT #also no the image of freddy as a god is too perfect i can't #it's all i can think of whenever this au comes up #but anyways yeah!#unfortunately this y/n has never heard of self-preservation #and the bois use that to their advantage #hope I answered your questions well enough :)

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hide-in-imagination · 5 months

Text

"Roads That Cross... with Distance"

You can read the previous chapters here: (1),(2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21), (22), (23), (24), (25), (26), (27), (28), (29)

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

Ever since that day, Ámbar started working from home.

What she told Simón was that there was too much noise in the Roller, and with everything she had to prepare for the Día de los Muertos Roller Jam, she would rather be somewhere quieter. If she had told him that a week ago, Simón would’ve believed her without question. After all, he’d often times wondered how she managed to concentrate with all the music and people moving about. After the visit from that unknown woman though, Simón had his suspicions.

He asked Ámbar straight out if her decision had anything to do with the accountant associated with Sharon. It was too much of a coincidence, and Ámbar was clearly upset after that woman left the Roller, but upon his question, Ámbar just assured him it wasn’t about that and put the topic to rest.

To tell the truth, it gave Simón whiplash, this back and forth. One moment he felt like he and Ámbar were closer than ever, like she was even making decisions thinking of the two of them, and then something like this happened, and she raised walls so high around herself that he sensed that if he even dared to go near them, she would shoot cannons at him.

Of course, Ámbar apologized for what happened after that woman left, and Simón knew Ámbar well enough by now to understand that it was nothing personal against him, that she just found herself overwhelmed by the situation.

That didn’t mean it was right, or that Simón liked the way she pushed him away. All he wanted was for her to trust him.

“Love,” he cradled her hands in his the night she told him she’d be working from the mansion, “you know you can tell me anything, right? I know that it’s hard sometimes, but if anything’s bothering you, I’m here to listen. If there’s anything I can do, I would love to help. Truly.”

For a second, that look had crossed Ámbar’s face, and something inside Simón screamed.

What is it? What’s wrong? I know there’s something; just tell me.

But Ámbar had just smiled, looking at him with affection, and squeezed his hands in hers. “Thank you. But I’m really not escaping from anything. I just really think that this is the best decision, at least for now.”

Simón had no other choice but to let it go then. If Ámbar was going to be more at ease at her house, for whatever reason, then that was what she should do, and he had to support her.

He missed her though, now that she no longer went to the Roller. Her presence used to be comforting, calling to him like a beacon each time he passed by her work table. Even if both of them were busy doing something else, he could see her, and she could see him, and it was nice. Now he found his eyes straying to her table many times throughout the day only to remember she wasn’t there.

They started texting more as a way to compensate for it. Not a lot either, but that was to be expected— they were both busy. Simón guessed he had to get used to this. After all, most couples couldn’t spend the whole day together— They had just been an exception.

It wasn’t really the physical distance that worried him though. He felt like there was a barrier he couldn’t break through. First this weird look in Ámbar’s eyes she got from time to time, then this thing with the accountant, then the sudden idea to stay at the mansion.

Simón had promised to wait, but he was starting to get anxious.

He just wished he knew what that look meant, at least. He’d been seeing it on her a lot lately. They could be just lying in bed, talking and holding hands, and then Ámbar’s eyes would turn… sad, almost. It was always gone in a second, but not quickly enough for Simón not to notice. He had asked her, more than once now, if something was the matter. But each time, Ámbar just smiled and told him everything was okay.

If she said so then he guessed he shouldn’t worry. She really looked fine most of the time— it wasn’t like last year when one could tell from miles away she wasn’t okay. If something was really wrong, Ámbar would tell him. He still wished he could help her with whatever was behind that look though. Little by little, Ámbar had been opening up to him: about her childhood, about Sharon, about her struggles… Maybe there was something she still didn’t feel comfortable sharing with him and that was what was causing the look. Maybe that was the ‘things she couldn’t tell.’

And so, Simón had to do his best to ensure she felt safe with him. That she felt loved, and cared for… It was all he could do. He hoped that, if he kept doing his part, she’d eventually trust him enough to let him in. In the meantime, he would be there for her.

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

It seemed like each day for Ámbar was a battle against Sharon’s shadow.

She guessed it made sense— She had learned everything from her godmother, spent her whole life trying to please her, and now fighting to not be like her.

She was losing that fight.

What other explanation was there for doing to Simón exactly what Sharon used to do to her? How many times had she tried to hold a conversation with her godmother only for her to push her away complaining about a headache or whatever other excuse? Ámbar knew what that felt like. Ámbar shouldn’t have done the same thing.

She apologized to him after he came back from the Roller. Ámbar didn’t expect him to come into her room at all after what happened, but he did. He greeted her like always, although more subdued than usual. He forgave her, even though there probably weren’t many reasons to.

Maybe that was what their whole relationship revolved around. Ámbar not deserving him and Simón accepting her anyway.

To make matters worse, her period came the very next day, which meant losing the biggest form of connection she had with Simón and the best way to compensate him for being mean to him. Of course, it was better to get her period than not getting it, but the timing was awful.

At least she got to make sure her birth control pills were effective. It wasn’t like they had ever failed her before, but Ámbar had also never had this much sex before, so she had to admit she’d been a little worried.

She feared her condition might make things more awkward between them, but to her surprise, Simón was more attentive instead— offering to bring her some tea to her room, warm up the blankets, or whatever else she needed. It was a little amusing, to be honest, but endearing too.

(“My love, I’m not sick, just menstruating.”

“Well, I don’t know, my sisters always complained a lot during those days.”)

Long story short, things were fine between them, unbelievably, undeservingly, but that was just one of her problems.

In retrospect, maybe it had been naïve of Ámbar to believe Silvana would never try to approach her again. After all, the woman knew where she lived, where she spent most of her time— There was nothing stopping her from trying to talk to Ámbar again. Ámbar should’ve been prepared for that eventuality, maybe then she would’ve reacted better to the whole thing, but really, how did anyone prepare themselves for a situation like that?

There was no manual for this. Faced with the woman that gave her up, and the one that crushed her world last year by telling her the truth, Ámbar didn’t know what to do. Should she have said thank you for letting her know she was being deceived? It was hard to be grateful for something that caused her so much pain, and she wasn’t certain Silvana told her that because it was the right thing to do or just for her own satisfaction. Ámbar never would’ve been deceived in the first place if Silvana had talked to her before. Even if Sharon didn’t allow her to, as she said, she had eighteen years to try. It didn’t seem likely that it was completely impossible.

In the end, all Ámbar knew was what she told Silvana— That she had enough problems to deal with one more. And why should she? Why should she even think about that woman when she was never a part of her life? Just because she suddenly wanted to be a part of it?

Ámbar was sick of doing what others wanted from her.

She decided not to go to the Roller the next day, just in case. She wanted to believe that Silvana wouldn’t come back until at least some months later, but she had no way of knowing that, so she preferred to be safe than sorry. Resting the first day of her period wasn’t bad either (Simón even encouraged it, the cutie pie). It was supposed to be only one day, but that notion changed when Ámbar noticed something.

She was working at the living room’s table when Rey stopped by her side.

“What are you doing here?”

Ámbar blinked up at him and put on her best fake smile. “Ow, Rey, are you getting senile already? I live here, did you forget?”

Rey’s lips ticked up, his eyes screaming murder. “I remember perfectly. Just like I remember you had a job now as manager of the Jam & Roller. Unless you were fired already. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Ámbar’s smile widened dryly. Always so pleasant to be around. “I’m still the manager,” she clarified to him. “And if I’m needed for any reason, the guys can call me and I’ll be right there to fix it, but I’m perfectly capable of working from here, as you can see.”

Rey looked at the documents and laptop on the table, observing them almost suspiciously before bringing his gaze back to her. His voice came out slow and measured. “And what would be the reason for this change, if I may ask?”

That Ámbar wasn’t expecting.

She tilted her head to the side. “Wow, Rey. I didn’t know you were so interested in my life. Or— No, wait.” She raised one hand. “I know.” She leaned back in her seat with a smirk, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Could it be that you’re worried, perhaps, of what I might see here while I’m working at the mansion?”

Rey tensed immediately. His face turned into a mask, blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, miss.”

Ámbar raised her brows. “No? Oh, so you’re not working for Sharon anymore? Is that it?”

Rey threw a quick glance around, no doubt checking that neither Alfredo nor the Valentes were close by. Then he took a step toward Ámbar, leaning to speak quieter to her. “I thought we agreed I stayed out of your business if you stayed out of mine.”

“And I’m not sticking my nose into anything, Rey,” she said with saccharine simplicity. “My only intention for being here is to work.”

After a quick stare down, Rey stepped back and straightened his suit jacket. “Okay. I’ll carry on with my own work then. After all, I’m sure you’re aware of the consequences if you do something out of line.”

Rey left her side after that thinly veiled threat, and didn’t so much as look at her for the rest of the afternoon, but that short interaction was enough to open Ámbar’s eyes.

This is something I can do.

Maybe she couldn’t give Sharon away, no matter how much her godmother probably deserved it, but she could do something to hinder her plans, to help stop her schemes before they had a chance to happen.

That very night, she told Simón she would be working at the mansion for a while.

He met her decision with suspicion, as was to be expected. He believed she was hiding away from Silvana, which, she did at first, but this was bigger than that, and much more important. If she could help the people who’d been nice to her, she had to do it. It was the right thing to do, and they deserved it, and then, maybe, Ámbar wouldn’t feel so guilty about the secret.

It was so genius she couldn’t believe it hadn’t occurred to her earlier. Throughout the week, Ámbar made a point of working either at the dinner table, specifically positioned for an ample view of the house’s lobby, or directly on the living room couch. She hoped her presence would work as a deterrent, or, alternatively, that she could hear something or maybe see something that would help her find out what Sharon was going to do next.

And then what? Her mind questioned. Are you going to stop it?

“They have turned you against me,” she heard Sharon’s voice.

Ámbar’s heart constricted. She shouldn’t feel so bad about doing the right thing. There shouldn’t be a lump in her throat every time she imagined her godmother calling her a traitor.

But she still remembered the words she’d told Sharon before she went on the run.

‘I want you to know that, whenever you go, I’m always going to be on your side. You’re not alone.’

She’d meant it when she said it. Meant it with all her heart.

But Ámbar was the one left alone. Who got ignored, used, thrown aside. No matter how much companionship she tried to give her godmother, companionship was a two-way street, and Ámbar got tired of giving and never getting anything in return.

She didn’t have the strength to hand Sharon over to the Valentes, or to the police, she just didn’t. But after everything she had experienced this year, after getting to know what it was like to feel loved and cared for by the exact same people Sharon wanted to destroy, Ámbar knew she could never be on her godmother’s side again, not like this.

But it’s not too late yet, I can still convince her, Ámbar clung, rather desperately, to hope. Sharon was not going to give up, but if Ámbar could just convince her that there was nothing to give up, that all of this made no sense, then maybe, the war front she’d been unwillingly put in the middle of would finally come to an end.

She’ll see reason, I’ll make her see reason.

Her godmother was a rational person— Surely she would eventually realize that the winnings weren’t worth the losses.

Whether she was winning or losing, Ámbar had no idea, because as the days went by, neither Rey nor Maggie did anything that looked out of the ordinary. By the fifth day, Ámbar realized her idea wasn’t as genius as she first believed it to be. Even if her being there made Sharon’s plans harder to carry out, wasn’t that just delaying the inevitable? And, for all she knew, the reason why she hadn’t seen anything suspicious lately was not because nothing was happening but because they had simply moved their criminal activities to the nightly hours when Ámbar was sleeping, rendering all her efforts meaningless.

Maybe there’s no point to any of this after all.

The sound of the doorbell brought her out of her laments. Except then Mónica opened the front door, and with it, brought forward a whole other problem Ámbar had been fearing to face.

Ana.

The woman walked into the mansion and greeted Mónica with a hug. She was dressed in one of her well-pressed suits, work bag and folder in hand, which meant she was probably here to give Luna’s parents more legal advice.

Mónica invited her to have a seat in the living room, which of course, meant Ana immediately caught sight of Ámbar, who was working there.

“Oh, hey, Ámbar!” She said, mildly surprised. “I didn’t expect to see you here at these hours, I thought you’d be at the Roller.”

Ámbar had to force herself to return her gaze, afraid of what she might find. At least outwardly Ana didn’t seem upset. Ámbar drew from that to put a small smile on her lips. “I decided to work from here for a couple of days. Too much noise over there, too many people always going back and forth…”

“Oh, yeah, I get you.”

Mónica asked her if she wanted some tea, and after Ana accepted the offer, she walked away towards the kitchen to prepare it, leaving the two of them alone.

Time to face the music, Ámbar thought grimly, folding her hands on her lap and turning slightly to face the woman. She didn’t even know where to start, what to say. How much had Silvana told her already? There was no way they hadn’t talked if they were friends. Except, Ana clearly didn’t know about the connection between she and Ámbar, so they probably weren’t close. Ámbar didn’t want to tell her about the connection either— but would she have to? Would that be the only way to explain how Ana had tried to help her and Ámbar so vehemently threw that help into the trash?

“Look, Ana, about the other day…” It wasn’t my intention? Sorry for kicking out your friend? It’s all Silvana’s fault, she tricked us both, I didn’t—

“Oh, yeah, Silvana already told me,” Ana said, confirming Ámbar’s fears.

Except her expression wasn’t one of annoyance, discomfort, or sadness. She was simply… smiling.

…What?

Ana kept talking. “She told me you managed to get the finances in order for the event,” she said enthusiastically. “I’m so happy she could help you.”

Ámbar was paralyzed. “She… She told you that?” She asked her, trying to hide the confusion and shock that battled inside of her.

“Yeah. She said you had understood everything after she explained it, so you’d be fine on your own. Or would you like me to call her again?”

Ámbar’s eyes widened. “Nonono, that’s alright, Ana, thank you,” she said immediately. “She was very thorough in her explanation, I got everything, I won’t be needing her anymore.”

Ana smiled. “That’s good, I’m glad to hear it.”

Mónica came back with a cup of tea for Ana and they got to talking about the fake paintings, so Ámbar quietly made herself scarce, moving all her stuff to the dinner table.

She couldn’t get anything done for almost an hour. Her mind wouldn’t stop spinning one thought after another. Silvana had lied to Ana. She had specifically made it seem like everything went perfectly so that Ana wouldn’t try to make them meet anymore.

It was perfect. Ana wouldn’t suspect anything this way and Silvana would stay away from her life. Ámbar didn’t even have to think about what lie to feed her to make that happen.

But why? What did she gain from this? Did she want me to be grateful? Did she think with this I would want to talk to her?

Ámbar was divided between relief and anger. It was a good outcome, but she hated that that woman had something to do with it. She didn’t want to owe her anything, she didn’t want Silvana to expect anything from her, because she wasn’t going to give her anything— She deserved nothing, and not even a thousand good deeds would change her mind about that.

Thank you and goodbye, Ámbar thought, crossing out Silvana’s name in her head. So she had listened to what Ámbar wanted and taken herself out of her life— Good. Great. Fantastic. She was capable of one decent thing at least.

Chapter closed. From here on out, Ámbar would pretend she didn’t exist.

Just like she did with me.

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

“Ugh. Do we really have to do this?”

Luna looked just as enthusiastic as when her mother used to make her eat broccoli when she was little— That being, not at all. She looked even more unwilling, actually.

Not that Simón could blame her. “Trust me,” he said, “I don’t like this just as much as you, but I guess it’s fair.”

“When has she been fair?” Luna complained immediately.

Never. But it was better not to say that now.

“Look, we’re only doing this to not be like her,” he reasoned. “Besides, she’s going to say no, so don’t worry.”

Luna sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Butyou talk to her, I don’t want to.”

That was Simón’s plan all along.

Together, they made their way to another table in the Roller, one currently occupied by only one person, quietly nursing a glass of juice as she looked at her phone.

Well, time to bite the bullet.

“Hey, Emilia?”

The girl turned her head toward Simón. Seeing him standing next to Luna, both of them looking at her, her expression rapidly soured. “What do you want?”

Simón was expecting her unfriendly glare so he just carried on with what he’d practiced. “Well, you know the Día de los Muertos Roller Jam is going to be next week. Luna and I are gonna open the event with a song that reminds us of Mexico. We were wondering if maybe you’d like to sing it with us.”

A beat.

Two beats.

Emilia snorted. “Is that a joke?”

Simón and Luna shared a glance. “No…?” He replied, not very confidently since he wasn’t very convinced of the idea either. “You’re from Mexico too, so, well…”

Emilia was looking at them like they had grown two heads. Simón understood completely— By all definitions, it sounded weird.

“Thank you for the kind offer but, no, thanks, I’m not interested,” she finally said in a dismissive tone. “Plus, I’m pretty sure you can’t just invite me. It’s Ámbar’s event and I very much doubt the little princess would give her permission.”

“Actually,” Simón said, “she was the one who told us to ask you.”

Emilia’s ironic smile faded from her face. “…Really?”

To tell the truth, Simón had been surprised as well when Ámbar mentioned it. Maybe they’d been friends once, but Emilia was still angry at Ámbar for ‘betraying them’ or whatever, and the girl enjoyed being antagonistic to everyone in the Roller. Simón had questioned it, asked Ámbar why she wanted them to invite Emilia of all people when she would surely say no.

Ámbar had held his hands and slid her fingers in the spaces between his.

‘A wise person once said that, in order for someone to do the right thing, the people around them have to give them a chance to do so.’

Even just remembering it now, Simón’s heart wanted to burst at the seams.

“Yeah,” he said, trying to keep the pride out of his mind so he wouldn’t grin like a lovesick fool in front of Emilia. “She’s busy now handling a lot of things but, she said that, since you’re also from Mexico, Día de los Muertos must be important for you too and, well… I don’t know, we thought, maybe…”

There was an awkward pause in the conversation again, but surprisingly, there was no hostility present this time. Emilia’s face was blank, if not more mellow than Simón had ever seen in her.

She sighed. “Okay, let’s be honest here.” She turned on her seat to fully face them. “You don’t wanna sing with me and I don’t wanna sing with you two.” She looked to the side, focusing her gaze on the glass in her hand. “But… thanks, I guess. For taking me into account.”

Simón’s brows lifted a little. Wow. That was a better response than he ever thought he’d receive from Emilia.

The girl left her empty glass on the table and got up from her seat.

“I’m gonna be there watching you two, so make sure you don’t make us all look bad,” she told them. She placed two bills on the table, “For the juice,” and walked away.

Yeah, that sounds more like her.

Simón and Luna watched Emilia’s retreating back until she disappeared toward the rink.

Luna spoke first. “You know, for a little, tiny moment I thought she had a heart.”

“She must have one,” Simón theorized. “It’s just veeery, very buried.”

Luna made a noncommittal noise and then turned toward him. “Anyway, the important thing is that we get to sing just the two of us like we wanted,” she said with a grin.

“Yeah, I think it’s the best for everyone,” Simón said, relieved. “Do you want to rehearse tonight?”

“Not tonight, I made plans with the girls to study at the mansion,” Luna said with some regret. She had never liked studying. “I’ll head over there now to get everything ready for when they arrive. See you later!” She waved as she walked to the exit.

“See you!”

Well, Simón thought as he was left to himself, that went better than I thought it would.

He’d wanted to honor Ámbar’s well wishes— after what she told him, there was no way he couldn’t— but he wasn’t sure if Emilia deserved the second chances or if she was a lost cause. After all the hurt she’d caused Luna, Simón simply couldn’t like her, but he’d be a hypocrite if he turned his back to her for good when he was dating Ámbar, another person who had also hurt Luna. He could rationalize it all he wanted, tell himself that Ámbar was always a good person deep down and that he was right to believe in her, but then, who could say that wasn’t the case for Emilia as well? What if she only needed someone to believe in her too?

There was no way of knowing. As much as he’d love to believe everyone had the capacity for good, there were people out there in this world who day after day seemed to be striving to prove that wasn’t the case.

Back to work mode, Simón looked down at the items Emilia had left on the table and picked them up with a sigh. He went behind the bar and left the empty glass on the side along with the other dirty dishes he had to wash later. Then he went to the register to pay Emilia’s bill with the money she had left him. There were 10 pesos left of change. Simón considered going after Emilia to hand them over but ultimately decided to keep them. If she hadn't stayed to pay the bill it meant she didn't care about the money.

Thanks for the tip, fellow countrywoman.

Another table called him over to ask for their check. After handling that, Simón said goodbye to the couple with a nice smile and set about clearing their table. He had just placed one plate on the tray to bring it over to the bar when he heard a voice behind him.

“Hey, waiter!”

Ugh. Seriously?

To clarify, Simón did not hate to be called ‘waiter’— That was his job. What he hated was the way Benicio said it. More specifically, he hated when Benicio talked to him in general because it was never anything good. Especially lately. The boy seemed determined to make Simón’s life a living hell whenever the opportunity presented itself.

So it was very begrudgingly that Simón turned his head to look at him, because, again, he was a waiter, and if someone called him over, he had to answer.

Benicio came to stand beside him. “Have you seen Emilia?”

Not related to work then. It never was when it came to Benicio, Simón didn’t know why he expected any different. “Yeah, she was just here, I saw her going to the rink.”

Benicio put his hands on his hips, making a displeased face. “I told her to wait for me here,” he complained to himself.

“Well, maybe she got tired of waiting for you,” Simón countered, annoyed at Benicio’s ever-present entitlement. “If you ask someone to meet up with you, the least you can do is be on time.”

Benicio looked at him unconcerned. “How do you know I wasn’t?” He crossed his arms. “Maybe she was just early.”

Simón made a sound in his throat and got back to clearing the table. It wasn’t any of his business anyway.

“One last question, if you don’t mind,” Benicio added, right when Simón was about to leave with the tray. He tensed up. That cocky tone indicated he knew Simón would mind whatever he was going to say but he was going to say it anyway. “Have you seen Ámbar?”

Simón frowned.

He turned to look at Benicio. “We live together,” he enunciated, making it clear just how stupid his question was.

“Yes, but out of obligation, not because she wanted to,” Benicio replied. “I guess it just sparked my curiosity because I haven’t seen her around here lately,” he said in that fake innocent way of his. “What happened, Simón? Did she dump you already?”

I can’t believe this.

Simón reigned in his exasperation. He was working; he couldn’t let Benicio keep distracting him. “We’re still together,” he stated clearly. “And, for your information, we’re closer than ever, so stop spitting nonsense, alright? You’re just wasting your time.” And mine.

Benicio snorted. “Closer than ever? Is that why she chose to spend her days far away from you?” He said mockingly. “Although, it’s not like she went anywhere near you when she was here anyway.”

“It’s called working,” Simón countered. “I know you’re not very familiar with that concept since I’ve never seen you do anything but waste around here, but it means she’s got stuff to do, I have customers to serve— We have lives, Benicio. We don’t need to be stuck together all day.”

Why was he even having this conversation? Why was he defending his relationship in front of someone like him? Why did it bother him so much?

Simón turned and went to pick up the tray again. This was stupid. Benicio was stupid. He shouldn’t even be entertaining him.

“I just think it’s weird since, when we were together, she was always coming up to me and sitting on my lap.”

The used plates and silverware shook and rattled as Simón put the tray down forcefully.

“Okay, Benicio, I hate to break it up to you, but the only reason Ámbar was even with you to begin with was to make me jealous,” he told him mercilessly. “So, stop making a fool of yourself. It’s sad. Seriously.”

“Oh really?” Benicio raised his eyebrows. “So you’re saying that all the times we made out in the lockers, or the dressing room, or at my house, it was all just to make you jealous?” Simón clenched his fists. “I find it kind of weird considering you weren’t even there, but if you’re so sure… Oh!” Benicio snapped his fingers. “Maybe she ran to you right after to tell you all the dirty things we’d done? Did she tell you about that time we locked ourselves in the bathroom? God, the things she can do with that tongue—”

Simón’s hand flew out and grabbed him by the collar.

“You’re a fucking liar,” he hissed. Ámbar had told him that thing he was insinuating she’d only done it with him, and everything else couldn’t be true either.

Benicio smiled. “Whatever lets you sleep at night. Does she still like to be kissed right here on the neck?” He tapped on his own neck on the left side, right under his jaw.

Simón’s stomach plummeted to his feet.

That spot was—

“Hey! What’s going on here?”

Juliana came in between them, using her arms to separate the two boys.

“Seems like it’s okay to mistreat customers under the new administration,” Benicio calmly replied, not taking his eyes off Simón as he smiled mockingly. “Should I tell Vidia about this change?”

“You bring any trouble to Ámbar and I swear to god—”

Simón lunged at Benicio, every cell in his body demanding to sock this jerk right in the face, but Juliana pushed them apart again.

“Boys! Stop!” She turned her back to Simón, facing the other boy. “Benicio, you won’t say anything about anything to Vidia unless you want me to talk to them and your parents about your vandalism.” Benicio’s face fell. “Oh yeah, I haven’t forgotten about my Glass Skate, in case you were wondering,” Juliana pointed out. “If it were up to me, you wouldn’t even be allowed in this place, so don’t push your luck.”

Benicio looked from Simón to Juliana and seemed to decide not to risk anything further. He walked away without another word, and Simón spun around too, finally holding up the abandoned tray to bring it over to the bar.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Juliana put a hand on his chest, stopping him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to work,” Simón answered plainly.

Juliana expelled a sigh and placed her hands on her hips. “You can’t let those guys get to you, Simón,” she said with disapproval. “That’s what they want. You’re better than that, and I expect you to act like it.”

Simón’s fingers tightened around the tray’s edges. He bit his tongue and nodded. Juliana stared him down for a second longer and then nodded as well, meaning he was dismissed. Simón carried on his way to behind the bar.

He performed the actions that needed to be done— do the dishes, pat them dry, stock them with the rest— but inside, a ball of irritation kept boiling on high heat. So Benicio could be constantly trying to rile him up but it was his fault to react? How was that fair? Why was he supposed to just shut up and take it? Why did he always have to be the bigger person? He was getting real freaking tired of it.

He wiped the tables with more strength than he’d usually employ and expelled a frustrated sigh. He wanted to punch Benicio. He knew it wouldn’t solve anything, he knew violence wasn’t the answer, but at this moment, all he wanted was to beat those venomous words out of his stupid mouth.

‘She was always coming up to me and sitting on my lap.’

‘The things she can do with that tongue…’

Lying son of a bitch.

Simón threw the rag balled up into the sink. Most of all, what he wanted was for Benicio to never talk about Ámbar again, not even utter her name.

And with it came an unexpected thought—

I’m glad Ámbar’s not here.

That way she was far away from Benicio.

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

For about the eighth time in the last thirty minutes, Ámbar checked the time on her phone. Any moment now.

Simón usually came back from the Roller around this hour and Ámbar was so excited. She’d planned a surprise for him— nothing as elaborate as the surprises he’d thrown for her before, but she hoped he’d like it. She would make sure he liked it. In fact, she was so sure this was going to be good that she could no longer wait.

The doorknob made a noise as the door came open. Ámbar’s heart jumped, and she had to force herself to stay still in her bed as Simón walked into the room. She had to wait until he saw her first.

And so he did.

“I’m—” Simón did a double take “—back…”

His voice trailed off, his typical greeting falling into tongued-tied silence.

Ámbar smirked.

“Hello, my love.” She rose from her lying down position, leaving her phone on the nightstand, and crawled to the center of the bed, sitting on her knees in front of her boyfriend. “I was waiting for you.”

Simón’s eyes swept over her body. Ámbar imagined what she must look like to him, wearing nothing but one of his shirts, a red and black flannel one he’d worn the day prior. It was too big on her, of course. She’d left many buttons undone to show some cleavage, to show she wore no bra, and she didn’t have to wonder if he noticed because it showed on his gaze. She didn’t know if that was the most alluring part though. Maybe he preferred the way the shirt reached just to her upper thigh, and how she’d sat with her legs a little spread, her hands in between, holding the fabric down to show nothing.

“I hope you don’t mind I borrowed your shirt,” she purred. She tilted her head and let the material slip off one shoulder, looking up at him invitingly. “I just missed your smell so much.”

You see, as Ámbar saw it, she had two options prior to this: She could either make an awkward comment about how her period was over for the month in case he wanted to do anything about it— Or, she could send the same message in a much, much more fun way.

Thus far, she was not regretting her decision.

There was a thing about being looked at in the way Simón was looking at her now that she absolutely loved. Just having his eyes on her was always nice in and of itself, but this? Rendering such an opinionated guy speechless? It was exquisite. Ámbar would be lying if she said provoking him wasn’t one of her favorite activities precisely because of this rush. It was fun before, wickedly, to watch him fight with his morals because of how much he wanted her— he never could hide it well. Now it wasn’t only empowering but also comforting, to have the person she loved desire her just as much she did.

Simón hadn’t even moved an inch since he walked through the door. Ámbar didn’t know if he was still processing or just appreciating the view. What was clear was the predatory air around them.

She smiled and chose to tease him further just to be a little shit.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

Simón shook his head once.

“No.”

Very calmly, he took off his jacket and hung it on the back of her vanity’s chair.

Then he came over in a stride and claimed her lips like a man possessed.

Ámbar grabbed the back of his neck to bring him closer immediately— not that it was necessary, since it was only a few heated kisses in that Simón was pushing her onto her back, making her lay on the bed as he climbed on top of her.

Ámbar ran her hands through Simón’s hair as their mouths moved wildly. They had kissed these past few days, of course, but not like this, and it seemed Ámbar had developed an addiction to him because it wasn’t normal howamazing this felt now. She thought she could spend a whole day just kissing Simón, but her plans right now weren’t as innocent as that.

Simón pulled back for a moment. “You’re okay now? 100%?” He panted.

“300%” She replied, eager. “I’m all yours.”

Simón groaned and joined their lips again, instantly seeking her tongue with his as his hands roamed her body.

He seemed to be fascinated by the way his shirt swallowed her frame. For long moments he did nothing but touch her over the fabric, press the cotton to her skin, and test how well it felt when it rubbed against her nipples. The answer was very good. Ámbar’s breathing was coming out increasingly fast. It was insane how he could make her feel as if she’d run a marathon without taking any of their clothes off.

“Aah!”

Ámbar had to break the kiss when Simón pressed the shirt between her legs. He didn’t stop, moving his fingers up and down, rubbing her with the shirt. Ámbar tossed her head back and threw an arm over her eyes, gasping and moaning. Don’t do that, you’ll get your shirt dirty, she wanted to whine. But then she realized— it might very well be his goal.

Moans and whimpers babbled out of Ámbar’s mouth as Simón kept prodding between her lips through the shirt, completely soaking the material in her juices. A burning inferno had lighted up between her thighs, made even worse when Simón found a use for his mouth again, bringing it to her clothed nipple and stimulating it with his tongue, wetting the shirt with his saliva.

Ámbar had underestimated this plan. It seemed he liked her in his clothes too much.

Finally, when she was sure his shirt would smell like her even after he washed it, Simón seemed to get his fill and brought his hands to her bare legs instead, leaving her nipple too with one last suck. Warm skin met even warmer skin, and goosebumps rose underneath his fingers as he slid them up her thighs, further and further until his hands went beneath the shirt.

After some passes over her hips, Simón moaned loud and long.

Apparently, he hadn’t realized she wasn’t wearing any underwear until now.

Ámbar felt him pull back suddenly so she opened her eyes, right in time to see him lift the bottom of the shirt, as if he needed to visually confirm what he was feeling.

He moaned deep from his chest.

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

Before Ámbar could follow the impulse to close her legs and cover herself, Simón fell upon her again, kissing her as if he’d die if he didn’t, and pushing his way between her thighs until he was cradled between them. His hands grabbed her bare ass and Ámbar moaned against his mouth as he pushed her up to meet with his hips. She spread her legs further. She’d missed him so much.

Simón bit her lower lip and pulled it. Ámbar dug her nails into his shoulders and tried to keep a hold on her sanity. It was impossible though with how good every touch felt, every kiss, Simón’s scent and warmth all around her. He left her lips to go kiss her neck— Ámbar tilted her head to the side and offered all of it. Simón nibbled, licked, and sucked every inch of the sensitive skin, drawing needy little sounds from Ámbar’s throat. She couldn’t stop squirming at the pleasant sparks that ran through her body. Simón sucked on a particular spot near her jaw and she gasped, squeezed him with her legs.

Simón growled.

It was a brusque sound, one she had rarely ever heard from him. It sounded almost angry, and it almost gave her pause, but there was no time to. Simón grabbed her by the hips at the next instant and lifted her up, holding her against him. Ámbar only wasted a second feeling surprised that they were leaving the bed— Her arms and legs had already wrapped around him, willing to follow.

Their lips and tongues kept chasing each other until she heard the click of a door getting shut. Ámbar opened her eyes and saw he’d taken them to her private bathroom. Simón placed her down near the counter, promptly pressing her against it as he leaned down to ravish her mouth once more. Ámbar could feel his erection pressing on her abdomen, so close to where she wanted it that it made the throbbing between her legs almost unbearable. She let her enthusiasm show, touching him all over in the way she’d missed doing the past few days. She grabbed Simón’s t-shirt and pulled it up until she got rid of the offending layer. She wanted to bite Simón’s neck and run her nails over his skin. She didn’t get a chance to do either, because just as Simón’s t-shirt touched the floor, its owner went down to his knees.

A gasp burst out of Ámbar as Simón grasped one of her legs firmly and yanked it over his shoulder, spreading her open. She held onto the marble countertop as he began to nip and suck his way up her inner thigh, desperate not to fall as her knees grew weak.

“Fuck.” He reached his end goal and it was devastating— an earthquake of sensation that curled her toes and clouded her mind. His tongue was the best thing she had ever experienced, lapping at her parts as if they were his favorite meal. Ámbar cried out when he sucked on her clit, one hand flying instinctively to grab the back of his head buried between her legs. It was almost too much too fast— too good, too debilitating— but she moaned over and over to keep him going, to spur him on to wreck her. She needed this.

If Ámbar was fully honest, the first two times Simón pleasured her this way weren’t particularly good because of technique but because it was him. After desiring him for so long and coming to love him so much, the mere idea of having him between her legs was enough to almost make her finish, so it didn’t matter if he had a lack of experience— She did too.

Now though, after so many times, it was good because he knew her. Simón had learned every spot that made her quiver and every touch that made her moan like lyrics to a song, and he played her body like an instrument, as expertly as he did his guitar. He had the manual guide to make her come as he pleased, but oh, Simón loved to drag it out. He loved to ease her there, make her wait until her legs were shaking and she was dripping so much the sound of him slurping up her juices was obscene. Until she needed it so bad she felt like crying.

That was not the case today, apparently. Today he wanted it fast— was determined to knock the air out of her lungs. He’d already inserted two fingers and hadn’t even bothered to thrust them in and out— he was keeping them deep, grinding relentlessly against her G spot, forcing shudders and moans out of her body. His free hand had slid up to knead her breast, and all of that, added to the continued attention to her clit, had Ámbar stimulated from too many places at once, unraveling and wounding all up at the same time.

The tension broke with a well-placed suction and Ámbar saw fireworks behind her eyelids. She gasped and whined as the pleasure tore through her, holding onto Simón with both hands as he licked her up, drinking in the fruit of his labor.

She was breathless. Usually, it took a while to recover from an orgasm like that. Simón didn’t grant her that time. Before Ámbar knew what was happening, before her cunt even stopped pulsing, strong hands turned her around and bent her over, and it was all Ámbar could do to find purchase in the wall mirror before Simón was pushing his cock into her.

Ámbar’s moan was loud. Her eyes screwed shut, her body overwhelmed by the new pleasure mixing up with the previous one. This soon after coming, everything was so sensitive it felt like lightning in her veins, Simón’s hands like two embers branding her hips. He started moving, fucking her with deep, sharp thrusts, and it was almost too much. Every movement made her gasp. It was so intense that part of her wanted to squirm away. But Ámbar was no quitter, especially when her reward for taking it was a hard cock deep inside of her.

A yank on her hair made her eyes fly open with a cry. The sight of her face agape and saturated in sex greeted her in the mirror, followed by Simón’s eyes, dark and focused on her in a way that made her whimper and clench around him. Simón groaned when he felt it and fucked her with more vigor. He left kisses up her back, nibbled her ear between his teeth. His hand abandoned her golden strands in order to unbutton his shirt. Ámbar watched as her breasts came on display, bouncing with every buck of his hips, which were powerful enough to rock her whole body. Simón grabbed her breasts, making her moan needily. He squeezed them as he wanted, played with her nipples until they were red and swollen, and sucked hard on Ámbar’s neck, obliterating any rational thoughts, rendering her unable to speak. The slick sound of their bodies merging was pornographic. The reflection on the mirror of his cock pistoning in and out of her was even more so.

Ámbar could’ve been embarrassed by all of this if she weren’t being fucked beyond coherence. She was so aroused, so sensitive and responsive that she would’ve let Simón do whatever he wanted as long as he kept pumping pleasure into her every nerve. It’d been a good idea on his part to get them inside the bathroom, because otherwise, anyone who passed by her room would’ve heard her whining and moaning like a whore.

Simón planted one of his hands on top of hers on the mirror, swallowing her own, entwining their fingers. It did things to her that he had her in this state while half-clothed, the zipper of his jeans bumping against her ass. His heavy panting and strained grunts right next to her ear pushed her closer to the edge with each passing second. Everything felt so good— she was going to lose her mind. Simón brought the hand that’d been on her waist to between her thighs, right over where his cock was splitting her open. It was all Ámbar could take.

Her second climax hit her like thunder. Her lips parted wide, a plethora of punched-out mewls dripping from her throat, mindless, ecstatic. Her back arched and her toes curled. It was like her whole body exploded in electricity. Simón let out a loud groan, fucking her through it. He pulled her back, holding her spasming body against his chest, his arms around her. He shoved into her like that, frantically, until he, too, broke and spilled, moaning and grabbing her face to kiss her hard as he filled her up.

Ámbar broke the kiss first due to her need to breathe. They both stood panting for a long moment, Ámbar twitching and holding onto Simón’s forearms. Simón pulled out, gently and mindful now that the craze had gone over, and hugged Ámbar tighter when she shivered at the loss, pressing her thighs together. Warm, soft kisses were laid upon her neck and shoulder until Ámbar could open her eyes. She found Simón’s gaze down her body, staring at the mess dripping between her legs. Ámbar writhed, and his eyes met hers in the mirror.

“Shower?” He asked.

What Ámbar wanted the most right then was to curl up with him and sleep, but she nodded, not finding the mental capacity for words yet. Her brain felt like it had turned to mush. Her body felt weak in the most pleasant way possible and she was pretty sure she was only standing because she was leaning against Simón. She lifted one hand to reach for him, but ended up stopping midway, bringing her fingers to her neck instead. Three darkening hickeys adorned her skin now. Right, she remembered Simón tugging and sucking on her neck in the midst of it all— Of course that would leave a mark. She guessed it only surprised her because he’d never done that before.

Simón’s arms slackened around her frame. “Sorry,” he said almost guiltily. “I should’ve asked.”

She didn’t know if he meant the hickeys or everything entirely. Ámbar brought her hand back as she’d originally intended and ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, I liked it,” she answered for both. In fact, ‘like’ was an understatement. “It’s turtle-neck season anyway.”

Simón made a little, almost disappointed, noise in his throat. Again, that was new. Internally, Ámbar debated that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she let one of the love bites slightly show. It’d be worth it if it made him happy.

They stayed like that a little longer, until Simón kissed Ámbar’s cheek and helped her get into the tub for their shower.

Only then did he take the plaid shirt off.

…

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

For everyone who commented on Chapter 20 saying how a mirror should be involved… this chapter goes to you ;)

Okay, so, while most times I only have my full-time job and obsessive procrastination to blame for late updates, this time I unfortunately have worse reasons why this chapter took so long.

I’ll try not to get into too much detail but, basically, by the end of September my one-month-old phone got stolen while I was on my way to the office. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before (I had been very lucky in that regard) so I guess I’m not exaggerating when I say I had the worst days of my life following that event. My anxiety skyrocketed (these guys could have access to all my information!!), my boss was very insensitive to me (especially considering that I was going to the office OUT of my regular working hours just because he asked), and, overall, it just made me question a lot of things, and miserable. Long story short, I quit my job (my boss did eventually apologize to me, but his lack of consideration was a problem that came from years back, so I do not believe he will ever change and this was my final straw). It was my first job, so I left on the best terms possible for any future references I might need for future jobs, but still, it was very stressful just making that decision.

I’m okay now though! ♡ If you follow me on Tumblr, you’ll know I went to Taylor Swift’s concerts in Argentina (one of them got suspended bc of the rain, which led to a lot of changes for me to be able to stay, but I figured it out), and now I’m back in my own house and resting ♡ All’s well that ends well, as they say. I’ll eventually begin the search for a new job, but first I wanna take some time to relax, to focus on writing which I really couldn’t do when I was so busy, and I have savings so rest assured that I won’t die of hunger any time soon.

I thank you all for your support of this story throughout the years <3 It really means a lot. I hope you liked this chapter! I’m so glad that I FINALLY got to chapter 30. We’re finally close to the end!! Whooo!

See you next time <3

#simbar #simbar fic #simbar fanfic #soy luna fanfiction #soy luna #roads that cross #My Writing

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