#fic: cruel summer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blairrwaldorfs · 1 month

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Cruel Summer

Aaron Warner x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Aaron Warner have been secretly seeing each other since the beginning of Spring. The problem is that your parents are part of Omega Point, the rebel group of The Reestablishment. While Aaron’s father runs The Reestablishment along with other leaders from other continent. From secret meetings to I love yous, you start questioning if all of this is worth taking the risk.

Author's Note: Hello, here's my first Aaron series. First off, I ctrl+delete Juliette in this AU. Second, Aaron is in his late twenties in this story and so is the reader. I try to make everything as accurate as possible but it has been a while since I read the first three books for the series, so I might forget certain details. Anyway, comments are welcome! Let me know if you want to be tagged. Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: 18+, mention of violence, smut, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 5.8K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

It was raining.

It was always raining these days. If not, the sky was dark and gloomy. You didn’t know how long since the last time you saw the sun. Since The Reestablishment had taken over and wars had broken out all around the world, the sky was just blanketed by dark gray skies. You remembered your childhood and how the world was back then. Sunny skies, pink sunsets, children on the playground. You would hear the ice cream truck around the neighborhood during summer. You remember spending Christmas and Thanksgiving with your family. It was your favorite time of the year.

Autumn and Winter.

Now, it was just cold, gloomy and rainy most days. The weather was pretty much unpredictable. Broken buildings, fires breaking out, civilians lost around the streets outside or getting shot if they didn’t follow The Reestablishment’s rules. You have seen the brutal things the government had done to those civilians, and it hurts to see them suffer and it hurts even more knowing you couldn’t do anything about it. Your parents had warned you to stay away from trouble. To always stay alert because you never know what The Reestablishment would do next.

Your parents were part of a secret organization called Omega Point. They ran it along with their friend Castle. The group took in people who have some sort of supernatural abilities and aimed to destroy The Reestablishment. You, however, didn’t have any special abilities. You were only part of the group because of your parents.

Castle was always alert, and he seemed to know more than what he led on. You couldn’t help but wonder if your parents also knew more than what they usually would tell you. You were always good at spying and sneaking out. That was your talent and most of the time, you were always successful in your own little personal agendas. Your parents knew that too. So, you figured they wouldn’t lie to you, knowing that you would eventually find out anyway.

There was that one time that your parents had caught you sneaking out of the Omega Point base back in the Spring. They were furious over it that you were stuck for two weeks in your room because they didn’t want you going anywhere. You didn’t care though because you had an interesting time that night. You had sneaked out and pretended that you were part of the little gathering of The Reestablishment’s leaders. You were always so curious as to what they did. Curious how great their life must be in that part of Sector 45.

And you were right.

Because you saw everything. They had everything they wanted as if the world didn’t burn down and everyone was living in this hell. Most civilians could barely find any food to feed themselves and here they were living like Kings and Queens.

“Are you lost?”

His voice made you jump. You were at the back of the building, looking through the window and trying to see what was happening inside. You never had anyone caught you before. Ever. Not even your parents when you were spying or sneaking out and here he was, standing over you. As you looked over your shoulder, you saw a man with blond hair and piercing green eyes. He was staring at you with some sort of curiosity. Some trespasser, he probably thought. You were, but that didn’t matter because you were supposed to act like you were part of this gathering. He was in uniform and on his uniform it said, “Sector 45 CCR, A. Warner.” Your eyes shifted at the name, and you knew then that you had to make up some excuse to convince him that you belong in this little gathering.

“Um… no.” You shook your head, straightening your clothes. “Just trying to get some air.”

His emerald eyes studied you as you stood there with your back straight, acting like there was confidence radiating out of you. However, you could feel your heart beating out of your chest. It was running a million miles per hour, and you were terrified that he would be able to hear it. He furrowed his brows and looked over his shoulder to see the dark clouds blanketing the city. You knew he was wondering what you meant by that because it had been a while since the world had an actual fresh air. It made you even terrified that he probably realized that you weren’t part of this little party.

“Hm…” His eyes studied you from top to bottom. “Which continent are you from? I’ve never seen you before.”

Your heart was gone. You couldn’t feel it anymore as you tried to make up some excuse but thankfully, he was called by another soldier from a distance. You immediately hid behind the post, so you wouldn’t be seen and just like that, he walked away. A sigh of relief washed over you as you watched him enter the building with the soldier.

Sneaking inside the building, you made sure everyone else was busy and made your way up the stairs. You didn’t bother taking the elevator since you might bump into some more people and then, you were met with a long hallway, bright fluorescent lights illuminating it.

It made you feel like you were in a hospital.

Walking down the hall, you found the Supreme Commander’s office. The name Anderson was on the door and quietly, you turned the knob and peered your head behind the door. It was empty and dark. You looked around the office and went around the desk to find some sort of evidence to prove that The Reestablishment was doing something wrong.

Something that could help Omega Point take down The Reestablishment once and for all.

Letting out a sigh, you pulled one of the drawers, but it was locked. All of them needed a key. Looking through all the files on his desk, you couldn’t find anything interesting nor the key to open up one of the drawers. You figured maybe he kept it safe with him. Hearing footsteps coming from down the hall, you walked out of the office and rapidly walked back to the fire escape staircase only to be met with the same man again.

He furrowed his brows and tilted his head at you. “What are you doing here?”

You sighed, “Can’t find the bathroom. Where is it?”

He turned his head to the side and gave you a side eye before walking back down the stairs and led you down onto another long hallway.

“Thanks.” You murmured and entered the restroom.

You waited a few minutes until you saw the shadow of his footsteps disappear. Unlocking the door, you looked both ways before finding the exit and out the back of the building again. You quietly hid from the soldiers that were on the lookout until you felt a hand cover your mouth, and you were pulled into a dark alley.

Your fight and flight mode immediately turned on as you struggled in the person’s grip. You tried to reach for your knife in your back pocket, but the person was pulling you in their arms too quickly. Using your elbow, you jabbed the person right on their stomach as they groaned softly from the pain. You told your legs to start running as fast as you could, but you felt their hand grab your wrist and immediately, all you felt was the stinging pain on your back by the brick wall.

The light from the post illuminated his face, and you saw that it was the same man you met earlier. He pinned you against the wall, his hand clamped over your mouth, and his green eyes were wide. He quietly held up his index finger in front of his lips to let you know to be quiet as you both heard footsteps from a soldier from a distance.

He pulled you away from the light and hid you from the dark corner until the soldier had disappeared.

“Who are you?!” You whispered, anger in your voice. “Why do you keep following me?!”

An amused soft laugh escaped from him as his face leaned closer to yours.

“I should be asking you that, love.” He whispered. “Who are you, and why are you sneaking around the building?”

You swallowed every emotion that was washing over you right now. Your heart was beating a thousand miles as you stared into his eyes. They were icy pale green. His features were sharp, and he looked sort of beautiful. Almost unreal.

“You could answer me or I could get one of the soldiers to throw you out or worse.” He added, his voice was cold and stern, his spare hand finding his gun on his holster.

Your eyes followed where his hand was, and you kept your mouth shut. You couldn’t say a word. You couldn’t risk putting your parents and all your friends in danger because of one mistake that you made. Maybe you should have listened to your parents. Maybe you should have stayed back in the base and all of this wouldn’t have happened. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes studied you and his brows furrowed.

“I’m a nobody.” You finally replied, your voice stuttering. “J..Just lost.”

His eyes kept studying you until he took a step back and finally let go of you. You exhaled a sharp breath and looked at him for a moment. He looked distressed. He looked lonely. You didn’t really understand how you knew that, but you could see it in his eyes.

“Go before someone sees you.” He said, his head hung low.

You were ready to run because you should be, right? So, how come your legs weren’t moving? How come you couldn’t bear to leave him like that?

“Y… You’re just gonna let me go?” You asked.

He lifted his head, his eyes boring into yours. It made your heart beat faster again as he said, “Be glad I’m irritated tonight. I don’t have the energy to take you into a prison cell or kill you and make a whole scene.”

Taking a few steps back, you looked over your shoulder one more time before running off. That was when you were met with your parents when you arrived back at the base. They were furious. Asking you a bunch of different questions as to where you were and how dare you leave the base without letting anyone know. Your best friend, Kenji, was standing behind them. A disappointed look in his eyes as they sent you to your room and told you that you were going to be watched for the next two weeks to make sure you weren’t going to make any more reckless decisions.

Then, after two weeks passed, you found yourself outside the Omega Point base. You were walking near the water, your thoughts pinwheeling and wondering how long were you all going to hide? You kept asking if this was how the world was going to be until you died. Kept wondering how much more damage The Reestablishment would do until everything would fall apart even more. Wondering what else they did underneath all those metal tall buildings. What decisions and plans were they planning?

Then, you felt that familiar touch grab you by the wrist. You let out a small shriek as you were pulled in the nearby forest—at least what was left of it—

“You.” Your eyes widened.

You looked around for soldiers but there was no sign of them. You had told Kenji what happened that night. You described the soldier as someone who looked unreal, beautiful and part of you thought you were dreaming that night.

“I don’t know, maybe there’s something in the air at their base.” You lightly teased.

“You said his uniform said CCR A. Warner?” Kenji’s eyes widened.

“Yes, why?”

You saw the worry that washed over Kenji’s face as he said, “That’s Anderson’s son. Warner is the most brutal and heartless Chief Commander in Sector 45. Jesus Christ, Princess!”

Anderson’s son? You knew about him, but you hadn't realized it was him, especially with the fact that his name was Warner, not Anderson.

“Brutal and heartless?” You tilted your head. “Then… Then why’d he let me go that easily?”

“I don’t know but there’s something wrong about it. You need to be more careful! You don't know his agenda, and you might end up dead next time.”

Warner.

Kenji’s words echoed in your head as you shook your wrist from his grip. You didn’t know what it was but there was something in his eyes today. Some concern he was feeling. If he was so heartless like Kenji said then why could you see the human inside him?

The son of the Supreme Commander of Sector 45. Warner was the Chief Commander and Regent. The man that the soldiers were afraid of because of how cold he was. He could kill someone in a heartbeat and not have an emotion over it. How much of a robot he was as Kenji told you. You still couldn’t understand why he let you go unharmed. How he didn’t kill you for spying. You didn’t understand one bit of it.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice was low and ice cold. “Are you here to kill me? If so, just do it now—”

“No.” He shook his head, his eyes stared at the ground. “I know who you are.”

He took your hand and dragged you further in the forest until you both saw the lake. He dropped your hand and pinched the bridge of his nose and paced back and forth in front of you. He whispered your name, and you wondered how he knew that. Although, knowing that he was the son of the Supreme Commander, you realized they probably kept files of everyone.

“You’re part of Omega Point.” He stated, his tracks stopped and he stood in front of you.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. If he knew about you, then he probably would have known all the members of Omega Point. Kenji, Castle, you… your parents.

Maybe you knew nothing of this world after all. Knew nothing about what The Reestablishment did nor what Castle and your parents knew about the new world.

“H…How did you—” You shook your head.

“Doesn’t matter.” He took a step closer. “My father…” He took a deep breath. “I think…he’s killing… children. Killing certain people.”

You didn’t say a word. That revelation was a shock to you, but you knew there was something going on. You knew it was more than just taking over the world. More than just building up a new world, new rules and destroying every bit of history from the past.

“That was why you were there, weren’t you?” Warner asked, his voice was stern. “You knew about this?”

“No.” You said. “I… I knew there’s something more going on. I was there to find evidence, but I wasn’t able to.”

“Well, I did.” Warner replied, his head shaking. “I think…”

“I…I’m sorry.” That was all you could manage.

You didn’t exactly understand why he was here. Why was he telling you all of this? What did he want from you? Why did he risk coming out here to talk to you?

“I’m not.” He said. “I knew my father was vile… A psychopath.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want to help take him down.” His green eyes went dark as it met yours. “I want to kill him.”

A small gasp escaped your lips as he took another step forward towards you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as Warner looked up and stared at something behind you.

“Meet me in that cabin at night.” He murmured. “I will look for more information and evidence that could help.”

You followed his eyes and saw the cabin just not too far. It was behind the tall redwood trees. This forest was the only thing left of this broken world, and you didn’t even realize there was a cabin right there. It was too hidden.

“But—”

But before you could say anything Warner had already left. You were left in the middle of the woods with your thoughts again. In the beginning, you were terrified to actually go through and believe what Warner said. You didn’t know him and he was part of The Reestablishment. How would you know that you could trust him? How do you know that he wasn’t playing a double agent?

When you had sneaked out that night to the cabin, you brought yourself a few weapons in your pocket just in case you needed them. You couldn't bear to let Kenji know what you were doing. At least until you were sure about all of this.

Looking around the forest, you saw no sign of other soldiers, but you couldn’t help but wonder if they were just hiding. Entering the cabin quietly, you found Warner sitting by the fireplace. He had documents laid out all over the coffee table and wooden floors. You closed the door behind you and studied the image in front of you. For a moment, you slowly started to believe what he told you. He did brought the evidence. He brought every document he could find in his father’s office.

“What are these?” You asked, settling yourself on the floor next to him.

You couldn’t help but notice that he was in his suit. Did this man ever wore anything else other than his uniform and suits? Your eyes then studied his blond hair, his long golden lashes and his eyes that were focused on the papers in front of him.

“Records of the children that mysteriously disappeared.” He said, gazing up at you. “But there was no evidence why they disappeared.”

He gazed up at you, green eyes staring into yours. It was almost enchanting that you had to look away and focus your attention on the papers in front of you. Both of you spent the night looking through the documents, but you both couldn’t seem to find anything. They were all just records saying that they either died from an accident or they disappeared out of nowhere. No hard evidence at all.

Then, another night came and another and another. Kenji started noticing your late night routine until you finally told him the truth.

“Are you insane?!” He whisper-yelled in the middle of the hall. “This is not a good idea, Princess.”

“Just please trust me?” You pleaded. “Just please cover for me if my parents or Castle look for me.”

“Nuh uh!” Kenji shook his head. “I’m not going to agree with your little suicidal plan with Warner.”

“Kenji, he could be the key to finding all these records. I’ve seen it. Please just give us more time.”

Kenji stared at you for a moment before exhaling a sharp breath and said, “I hope you realized who you are talking to every night in that secluded cabin.”

A smile creeped up on your face as you pulled your best friend into a hug and thanked him. Then, a week of meeting with Warner had become two weeks then one month. Then, two months until Spring ended and Summer finally came. Not that it mattered since the weather stayed the same. It was rainy, dark and gloomy.

The more you spent with Warner, the more you saw a different side of him. His walls were slowly unraveling in front of you, but it wasn’t to the point where you knew his personal secrets. His personal life. You have never seen him smile, he was always so serious. But he had told you about his father and how his mother died. That was the closest personal thing you have known about him.

It was awful.

His father tortured her and gave her drugs until she turned into almost like a wild animal. Warner mentioned how his mother’s ability was that no one could touch her, but her power was so strong that she could feel the pain of her own skin and suffered until she died from it. You were slowly understanding why he hated his father and why he was rebelling against him.

At least you thought you understood all of it until that one night…

“Here.” He handed you a box..

“What is this?” You furrowed your brows and opened up the box.

Inside, there was wrapping paper and once you had ripped it open, you found a green dress, almost the same color as his eyes. You held up the dress in front of you and then stared at him, confused.

“What is this for?” You asked.

“You don’t like it?” He grabbed the dress from your hands. “I’ll change it. I don’t know your favorite color.”

He couldn’t even look at you. He was staring at the dress in his hands and then, you realized something. The dress was the most obvious one out of all the things he brought every time you met up with him. It was food at the beginning. Then, a nice blanket. Told you that it gets cold at night in the cabin, and it annoyed him to see you shivering all night. Then, you found some fancy soaps in the bathroom, which you never understood because you never took a shower in the cabin. Then, the cabin was slowly being decorated nicely. You thought maybe he was trying to make it a lot cozier.

But no.

He was doing all of this for you. He was giving you gifts, but why?

“No,” you took the dress back from his hands. “I like it. Thanks.”

You studied the dress in your hands for a moment then, you felt his presence in front of you. Suddenly, you felt the air between the two of you shift. His fingers found a strand of hair from your face as he tucked it behind your ear. You gazed up at him through your lashes and found his face inches from yours.

You couldn’t breathe.

His fingers brushed gently against your cheek, and a small gasp escaped your lips. He never touched you. He was always distant even when he was sitting next to you. It was almost like there was a wall between the two of you but the moment you felt his touch, all of a sudden, you saw that wall crack.

“You’d look beautiful in that dress.” He whispered.

The air in your lungs suddenly gave out. The wall he had put up between the two of you had split open.

“Warner, I… I don’t understand what’s happening.” Your words stuttered, you could barely find your voice.

His hands then cupped your face as his green eyes were staring deep into yours. His eyes sparkled, and you were a glass almost breaking into pieces. His touch was the only thing that was keeping you glued together for a moment. He held your face like you were something so delicate that he was afraid he'd break you if he wasn’t careful.

“Do you know how much it’s killing me that I can’t hold you?” He murmured. “How much it’s killing me that I can’t stop thinking about you every second of the day?”

“Y…You can’t stop thinking about me?”

His thumb traced the outline of your lips before his nose grazed against yours. You held your breath as you closed your eyes. You could feel the heat radiating off your body and all of a sudden, you couldn’t think straight anymore.

“I can’t stop thinking about your eyes, these lips…” his thumb softly touched your lips, almost like a feather-like touch. “...your voice—god, your voice.”

His hand slipped at the back of your head before he said, “I don’t want to scare you away.”

Your breath hitched, “You’re not.”

His sharp features were right in front of you, and his eyes studied each detail of you. You forgot what it was like to breathe. Time has stopped. Time froze the moment he pressed his lips against yours, and you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. He tasted so sweet. He tasted like peppermint. He kissed you hungrily and desperately like he has been waiting for this for a long time. He pulled you close and pressed your body against his. Your hands slid on his chest, and you could feel his chest heaving as he let his lips trailed down your jawline and down your neck.

You were gone.

You didn’t know how you were still alive because you had stopped breathing a long time ago. His kisses sent shivers down your body. It was something you never experienced before. Never felt before. It was so soft and at the same time, it was something so special. A luxury that you never tasted before.

Warner scooped you up in his arms and carried you towards the bedroom, setting you gently on the bed. For a moment, he pulled away from the kiss. Both of you were breathless, and his fingers were caressing your face softly.

“I…I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” He whispered.

You gazed up at him, breathless. “Then, kiss me again.” You murmured before pulling him close to you again.

His lips kissed down your neck and down to your collarbone as he tugged on your shirt and pulled it over your head. You couldn’t breathe. You weren’t here anymore. His lips trailed down to your chest, and his hand gripped your hips as you ran your fingers through his hair. A jar of butterflies exploded in your stomach and fluttered all over your body.

“Warner.” You whispered.

“Yes, love?” He gazed up at you.

“Are… Are you sure about this?”

Your heart was drumming hard in your chest and you swore, he could hear it. There was nothing more you wanted than this, but you knew how complicated the situation was. You didn’t want to wake up tomorrow and find him gone. You didn’t want to wake up and find out that he regretted it. Most of all, you wanted to trust him. Believe him that this was real.

“I’ve never wanted anything more than this, love.” He said. “You’re consuming every part of my soul, and I can’t explain why.”

You slid your hand behind his head and pulled him down to kiss him deeply. Your heart was pounding hard, and you felt the world stopped around you.

It was just you and him.

You fumbled through the buttons of his shirt and immediately slid it over his broad shoulders. Pulling away from the kiss, you gazed down at his body, your fingers ran down his bare skin and you heard a breathless gasp escape his lips. Your fingers ran through the hills and curves of his muscles on his stomach. Then, you saw his tattoo that sits right on the bottom of his torso. Just below his hip bone.

Hell is empty and all the devils are here.

Your fingers grazed over the words, and you saw Warner’s chest went up and down as you continued to touch him.

“So… beautiful.” You whispered.

However, you didn’t know what happened or what you said to him because you saw something shifted inside him. His eyes had gone dimmed and he immediately pulled away from you. You furrowed your brows and questions started running in your mind.

“What is it?” You asked.

“I…” He shook his head.

You were confused. You watched as he repeatedly shook his head. He looked embarrassed. He got up from the bed and so did you. He kept taking a step back, and he looked jittery.

You never saw him like this before.

“Warner…” You took a step forward.

You wanted to reach for him, but he was pulling away from you, and you didn’t understand why. You thought this was what he wanted.

“I’m not…” His voice stuttered.

Then, when he bent down to pick up his shirt from the floor, a gasp escaped your lips. Immediately, you walked towards him. You hesitated to touch him, but you saw it. You saw all of it.

Scars.

His back was covered with them. Right on his upper back, just between his shoulder blades, there was also a tattoo that said:

IGNITE.

“W—What happened?” You asked, your fingers finally grazing over the scarred skin of his back.

He winced from your touch as he turned around to face you. His face looked like he was in pain as he stared at you for a moment.

“It’s repulsive, I know.” He said, sliding his shirt back in his body. “They’re birthday gifts from my father from when I was five until I was eighteen.”

You couldn’t help but clamped over a hand on your mouth, another gasp escaping from you. You felt the tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head. Warner couldn’t even look at you. He turned his head to the side and stared at the wall.

“I’m not beautiful, love.” He murmured. “I’m repulsive, and I’ve killed people before. Tortured them…”

You were frozen for a moment. Trying to comprehend everything that you just learned. You knew his father was vile and a psychopath but the thought of Aaron having to go through that kind of abuse? The thought of him being trained by his father to kill people? Anger washed over you. Turning to face him, you walked across the room and cupped his face in your hands, letting his green eyes find yours.

“You’re not repulsive, and I’m not redacting my statement.” You said sternly.

There wasn’t anything else that you needed to say to convince him to believe you because he was now cupping your face in his hands, his emerald eyes sparkling. You could hear your heart drumming in your ears as he pulled you in for another kiss. A hungry and desperate one but at the same time, it was all so soft like cotton candy. You slid his shirt away from his shoulders again as he carried you to the bed and towered over you. He was breathless as he kissed down your body, and you swore the room started to spin.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was what heaven was like. If this was it. If you finally died and went to heaven. If you did, it was peaceful. Quiet. The only one that was looking at you was this man with piercing green eyes and leaving you soft feathered kisses all over your body like you were something new. Like he had never had something like this in his life, and he was afraid that he'd lose it if he didn’t hold on to it tightly.

Your thoughts were gone as soon as you felt him unzipping your pants. The rest of your clothes were on the floor, and you were lying naked in front of him. You felt the blood rushed to your face as he studied you, a small smile lingering on his lips.

“So enchanting.” He whispered before pressing his face on your neck and leaving soft kisses on your skin.

“I think…” He breathed heavily. “...my heart has exploded a million times.”

You smiled softly and cupped his face, looking right at him. You have never known this kind of look before. You have never seen anyone look at you like this before. Repeating the words that Warner just told you, you couldn’t help but think about how your heart also exploded a million times because this…

This was everything.

Being with him was like a safe bubble that you wished you never wanted to leave. If you were asked, you would stay in this cabin forever. You didn’t care about anything else. You just wanted to be with him everyday and that was how it went for the next few weeks. You sneaked out of the base and saw Warner almost every night. It was an escape from this cruel world. A happiness you never knew existed but time was never enough.

It was always never enough.

You always found yourself going back to the base in the early mornings, hoping you wouldn’t be caught by anyone. It was the perfect time since everyone would be asleep and the streets were empty during those hours.

“You’re late.”

You stopped in your tracks right before entering your room and turned around to find Kenji standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Sometimes you hated the fact that his power was invisibility because this man always appeared out of nowhere.

“Only five minutes late.” You corrected him.

“I don’t like this, Princess.” Kenji said.

You looked around to make sure no one was around before pulling Kenji inside your room and let out a sigh.

“Please, Kenji.” You murmured. “I do appreciate you covering for me every night but please understand that this is important to me.”

“Important?” Kenji raised his brow. “You’re meeting up with Warner. Anderson’s son. You know, the one who made this whole shit show of a world in the first place? The one we’re trying to take down?”

“I know, I know.” You raised a hand up to stop him. “But he isn’t like that. He understands what we do, and he wants to help.”

Kenji let out a scoff. “How sure are you that he can be trusted?”

“Because I know.” Your eyes were pleading for him to understand.

“How sure are you that he isn’t using you just to get information about us too?”

“Because he also hates his father and besides, we haven’t talked about that in a while.” You felt your cheeks heat up as you remembered Warner for a moment.

Kenji was suddenly all scrunched up in disgust as he shook his head. “Ew. That’s gross. Don’t ever say that again to me.”

“Just please, trust me? We will figure this all out soon. He’s trying.”

Kenji let out a sigh and nodded his head. “Just be careful out there. It’s dangerous and honestly, I don’t like the fact that you are running around late at night out there.”

“Please,” You said, holding back from rolling your eyes. “I can handle myself, Kenji.”

“I know you can but still.”

You laughed softly. You were grateful for Kenji and besides the fact that you knew he wasn’t really agreeing with this whole thing, you were still glad that he always understood you and never doubted you.

“Whatever you say, Princess.” Kenji said before walking out the door.

Flopping yourself on the bed, you exhaled sharply and stared at the ceiling. You couldn’t help but wonder if Kenji was right. Warner was Anderson’s son and even if he gotten pretty good at sneaking out of the base, you were terrified that one day his father might find out. Then, what was going to happen? It would risk everything.

Everyone.

***********

Taglist:

@gracie-221 @his-littlefox @hannahmarie71 @ecliphttlunar @indythefandomhoarder @reminiscentreader @hrtsbecca @soulaires @shattermelyhfmlblog @wildesqdreams @pookiebearnancy @ant-thebooknerd @boliviajane

#Aaron Warner #Aaron Warner x Reader #Aaron Warner x You #Aaron Warner x Fem!Reader #Aaron Warner Imagines #Aaron Warner Fics #Aaron Warner Fanfics #Shatter Me #Shatter Me Fics #Shatter Me Fanfics #Kenji Kishimoto #Tahereh Mafi #Kenji Kishimoto Fics #blairrwaldorfs #cruel summer

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proxima-writes · 1 year

Text

Title: cruel summer | chapter 6

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Pairing: No outbreak!Joel Miller/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Chapters: 6/6

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Summary: Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Author’s Note: This is the end! Thank you all so much for enjoying this little fic that I have loved writing. Requests are open if you have anything you wanna see in the future 🥰

Additional Tags/Warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age gap (23F and 38M), mild/moderate angst (resolved!), alcohol consumption, discussions of family dynamics, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), slight fem dom?, dirty talk, pet names. Let me know if any are missing!

You don’t hear from Joel the next two days, save for the text he’d sent the night he dropped you off at your apartment with a broken heart. He said he’d fix this and god, you want to believe him. But silence doesn’t feel promising.

Your dad has called no less than twenty times since that night. You’ve let them all rot away in your voicemail graveyard. You don’t have the motivation to do much besides sit on the couch for your daytime crying and move back to your bed for your nighttime crying before exhaustion finally wins and you fall asleep.

There’s a knock at your door on the third day, but you don’t make any move to answer it. You hear the key turn in the lock and your mom enters the apartment.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says gently, setting down an armful of groceries in the kitchen before sitting beside you on the couch, smoothing your unwashed hair from your face with a gentle hand. “I’d ask how you’re doing, but I think I know the answer.”

Tears prick at your eyes. “It hurts, mama.”

“I know, baby,” she murmurs. She pulls your head to her chest. “Have you heard from Joel? Or your daddy?”

“No, I haven’t heard anything from Joel. Dad’s called a bunch, but I…I don’t wanna talk to him, mama. He was so mean.”

“You gotta think about where he’s coming from. You’re his only baby, his little girl. He’s having a hard time separating the baby he used to rock to sleep from the woman who can make her own choices. And he reacted with the heart of a dad, not the brain of a logical man.”

You sniff. “That doesn’t make it any better.”

“I know. You don’t have to forgive him. I’m spittin’ mad at the man myself. But I just wanted you to know.” She presses a kiss to your head. “Now, help me put those groceries away. I have somewhere I gotta be in an hour.”

________

Joel nervously scrapes at the paper label on his beer bottle as he waits for his lunch guest to arrive. He’s been a wreck the past couple of days, trying to keep it together in front of Sarah while his mind wanders to you, your last words to him ringing in his ears.

I love you, Joel Miller. I hope you find it in you to not be a coward and love me back.

That’s exactly what he intends to do. He just needs someone on his side.

Which is why he texted your mom a few nights ago, asking if he could talk to her.

The woman in question approaches the table and Joel stands to greet her, holding an arm out for a handshake. She only rolls her eyes, pulling him into a hug that surprises him. When she seats herself, the waiter swings by and takes her order for a glass of Chardonnay before leaving the two of them to stare at each other.

“So. Joel Miller. You love my daughter, huh?” She asks. He swallows nervously.

“Yes, m’am.”

“And my husband was an asshole to you about it?”

He considers his response. “It..uh..could have gone better.”

She nods. The waiter drops off her wine glass and she takes a dainty sip. “Well. Tell me the whole story.”

So he does. He leaves out the more salacious bits, because your mom doesn’t need to know about what happened in her kitchen, instead focusing on how you drew him in with your sweet disposition and he was helpless to avoid falling in love with you. He tells her about bringing Sarah over and how you played with his little girl like she was the only thing that mattered in that moment. He talks about the trip to the aquarium. He mentions his stupid attempt at pushing you away.

“And I can’t do that again, m’am. I don’t want to. I told your husband that she’s the best thing that’s happened to me since Sarah was born, and I meant every word.”

The whole time, she stays quiet, sipping her wine. Occasionally, a small smile will pass across her lips.

“You know, my own daddy didn’t like my husband when he first met him. Thought he was a no good troublemaker. I think my husband forgets that he’s just as in love with someone’s daughter as you are with mine. And one day someone will love your little girl, and you’ll think they’re not good enough for her, too. It’s the curse of being a father.”

Joel nods, unsure of what to say. Your mom finishes her glass of wine before continuing.

“I think you should join us for dinner tonight, Joel. And I promise to change the gun safe code before you get there.”

________

Joel shows up at your parents house with a bottle of wine and enough nervous energy to power a small city. He feels like he might throw up as he waits for someone to answer the door.

Thankfully, it’s your mom. He hands over the bottle of Chardonnay he brought and she gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“Chin up. You got this,” she says, patting him on the shoulder and guiding him to the living room.

Your dad is sitting on the couch, a glass of whiskey in hand as he staunchly refuses to meet Joel’s eyes. He takes a seat in one of the accent chairs.

“My wife says I owe you an apology,” your dad says. “And that I need to get my head out of my ass before I lose it up there for good.”

Joel has to fight back his laugh, biting his lip hard.

“I just want my daughter to be happy. And she’s right, she’s an adult now. I forget, sometimes,” he continues. “She used to ask me to check for monsters under her bed and in her closet. Hard to believe that same girl is about to graduate college. Become a doctor. Save the world. All the best things I always wished for her. And I also used to wish she’d find someone to love her. And I can’t begrudge you for being that person. So, I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Your mom shouts from the kitchen. Your dad rolls his eyes.

“For being an asshole. And ruining your date,” he grumbles. He drains the rest of his drink.

“Thank you, sir,” Joel replies. Your mom enters the living room.

“Excellent. Now, come on, Joel. Let’s talk New Year’s Eve plans.”

________

It’s New Year's Eve and your mom showed up at your apartment just after dinner with a garment bag and a stern expression.

“You are coming to the party, young lady,” she insists. “Now get in the shower.”

You do what she asks with heavy limbs. You still haven’t heard from Joel. Your dad’s phone calls have stopped. You’re not exactly looking forward to seeing him tonight.

When you get out of the shower, your mom is wielding your blow dryer like a weapon. You sit at your desk while she styles your hair for you. You do your makeup under her watchful eye, then slip into the shiny silver dress she brought for you.

“Gorgeous. Come on. Let’s go.”

She hustles you into the passenger seat of her car and drives to her house. There’s a whole line of cars parked along the curb, and you groan at the idea of having to mingle with their friends.

“Alright, in you go, chop chop,” your mom says, shooing you from the vehicle. You enter the bustling house, forcing a smile as some of your dad’s business colleagues and your mom’s friends say hello, pulling you into hugs and cheek kisses.

Your mom brings you a glass of champagne, pulling you along at her side as she talks with her guests. When the doorbell rings, your mom politely asks you to answer the door.

When you do, you feel like you’re hallucinating. Standing on the front porch is Joel, dressed in a suit, his wild curly hair slicked back and his face clean shaven.

Christ, the man can wear a suit.

“Hey, baby,” he says.

Seemingly out of nowhere, your dad appears beside you. “Hey, Joel! Come on in, can I get you anything to drink?”

You look between the two men, feeling like you’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone. Have you missed something?

Your dad shakes Joel’s hand, all smiles, and your questions only multiply. Joel squeezes your hip as he passes by, following your dad to the kitchen for a drink. You trail behind them, confused as hell as you watch them chat like they’re old friends and your dad pours him a glass of whiskey.

“Uh, Joel?” You ask. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” he replies. He excused himself with your dad and you lead him upstairs to your childhood bedroom, his palm hot on your lower back.

In your room, you shut the door and take a deep breath. “Joel, what’s happening?”

“I fixed it,” he says, setting his glass down on your old dresser.

“You fixed it,” you repeat incredulously. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he says, stepping closer and slipping an arm around your waist, “I’m all in. No more runnin’. No more secrets. No more bein’ a coward. It means I’m yours, and you’re mine, and nothin’ is gonna change that.”

You blink at him. “But…my dad—“

“Met with him and your mom. Had some good talks. He just wants you to be happy, baby. He did threaten that he knew a good place to hide a body if I hurt you, though.”

“Why didn’t you call me? Or text me?”

“Because when I came back to you on my knees beggin’ for forgiveness, I wanted to have everythin’ squared away.” He drops down to one knee, then the other, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his as his hands grip your hips. “So, can you forgive me, baby?”

You smirk. “I could probably be persuaded.”

“Naughty girl,” he murmurs, trailing a hand up your calf. “You want me to earn it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, voice already breathy and your core clenching in anticipation. “I think you owe me a real thorough apology, Joel.”

He grins at you as his fingers reach the hem of your dress, urging it up your thighs until it’s bunched around your waist, exposing your panties underneath. He gently pulls them down your legs, eyes glued to your face as he does. He urges you to step out of them once they’re around your ankles.

Tossing them to the side, he lifts one of your legs and situates it on his shoulder, opening you up to his hungry gaze.

“Missed you so much, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. “Was goin’ crazy without you.”

“Less talking, more apologizing,” you demand, breathing already labored.

He huffs a laugh against your skin before angling his face toward your center, his nose brushing your needy clit as he licks a broad stripe through your folds, his tongue dipping into your entrance. Your head drops back against the door with a groan.

“You gotta be quiet, can’t have all those nice people downstairs knowin’ you’re gettin’ your pussy devoured, huh, baby?”

You bite your lip to hold your noises as he returns to his apology, licking and sucking and biting at you until you’re a writhing mess.

“Joel!” You whisper-shout, tugging on his hair. “Want your cock, baby, please?”

His lips are shiny with your essence as he stands, hands working his belt and fly open in quick succession. He presses a messy kiss to your lips as he frees his cock, an arm wrapping around your waist to lift you up, your legs automatically circling his hips. His hot length slides against your clit and you moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed in his kiss.

He presses you against the wall so that he can use one hand to position his cock at your dripping entrance, pressing his hips forward to drive himself inside you. Your arms cling to his shoulders as you gasp at the stretch.

“Christ, darlin’,” he whispers against your neck. “I’m not gonna last long like this.”

“Don’t care,” you reply, swiveling your hips in an attempt to get him to move. “Come on, baby, you’re not gonna make me cum standing still.”

Joel chuckles darkly, drawing back and slamming harshly up into you, the power of it knocking the breath from your lungs. He pounds into you harshly, his hands sure to leave fingertip shaped bruises on the skin of your hips and ass where he holds you to drag you over his length.

“Touch yourself, pretty girl, I need you to cum with me,” he demands. You slip a hand between your bodies, fingers circling your clit with little finesse as you work in tandem with Joel to reach your release.

It shatters over you in a consuming wave, your legs going tight around his waist as you lean forward to bite your scream into his shoulder. You feel his cock pulse inside of you as he presses in deep, his release warm as it fills you to the brim.

You slump against him, boneless in the aftermath. He presses a sweet kiss to your shoulder before gently lowering you to the ground, an arm looped around your waist to support you as you try to stand on shaky legs.

He tucks his softening cock away into his boxers, pulling his pants up. He locates your panties on the brown and kneels down to help you step back into them.

“Not gonna steal this pair?” You tease. He nips the inside of your knee in retaliation.

“Only because I’m not about to send you out in your parents house with my cum dripping down your thighs,” he replies, situating the fabric on your hips before pulling your dress back down over your thighs. When he stands, he pulls you into a deep kiss, his palms framing your cheeks. “I love you,” he says as he pulls back.

You grin at him, smoothing your fingers through his mussed hair. “I love you, too.”

________

You rejoin the party, your hand in Joel’s as he leads you to the kitchen for a drink refill. It’s nearing midnight, and your dad has turned on the TV in the living room to the ball drop in anticipation.

The man in question is in the kitchen with your mom, the two of them flushed from their drinks and the heat of the full house. Your dad gives you a tentative smile.

“Hi,” he says as the two of you approach. You release Joel’s hand to pull him into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers.

“I know. Thank you, dad,” you reply. You don’t miss the shine in his eyes when you pull back and kiss him on the cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he tells you.

The noise in the house starts to grow as the ball begins to drop, the countdown echoed in chorus by the party goers. Joel hands you a glass of champagne, pulling you into his side as he starts to join in.

“3…2…1! Happy New Year!!”

Joel tilts your face to his, planting a kiss to your lips, in front of everyone. When you pull away, your mom tugs you into a hug and your dad shakes Joel’s hand, both men smiling.

And you can’t help but think how amazing it is that one summer can change your whole world.

Tag list: @huffle-punk @telepathay @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @caatheeriinee07 @leeeesahhh @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @lovebandrry @str84pedro @daddy-din @missgurrl @paleidiot @mattmurdock1021

#no use of y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #joel x reader #cruel summer #complete fic #complete

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fruitbythefoot7 · 8 months

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that moment when u get caught making out w ur not bf instead of doing the chore u signed up for bc of said not bf

#anatomy doesn’t exist but we’ve established that #mikes arms are v interesting #it’s ok tho this is just a dumb lil doodle #anyways read the fic if u haven’t #a cruel summer with miwi #acswy #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #lucas sinclair #stranger things #my art

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laracrofted · 5 months

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cruel summer bradley in the woods with an axe as gale has the worst day of her entire life

#i can’t reblog with a video #so here we are #cruel summer spoilers #fic: cruel summer

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bizaar · 8 months

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Endless Summer ✧

Part 1: Our Lips Are Sealed

Cruel Summer Masterlist

- Next

pairing: eddie munson x afab!reader

warnings: sexual content (18+ minors dni), virgin!reader, mentions of drug usage, swearing, bullying, self-deprecation, masturbation (f)

word count: 10k

a/n: so I may or may not have been writing a few chapters of a semi-raunchy little prequel to Cruel Summer, this is the same babysitter!reader at the beginning of her relationship w/ Eddie - reader is hopelessly obsessed in a totally uncool, sweaty palms sort of way and Carol Perkins is the meanest girl in school.

Carol Perkins has been talking endlessly about … something, for the better part of the ten minutes it’s been since you sat down with your lunch tray.

You aren’t exactly sure what about, because you’re not listening, you’re just sitting there watching her lips flap.

You might have felt bad about that even as recently as last week, but somehow you can’t seem to muster the feeling today.

Maybe it has to do with the recent events that have more or less soured your opinion of your so-called friend, or maybe it’s just that her conversations these days are not exactly the stuff of edge-of-your-seat intrigue, especially considering you can be fairly certain in the knowledge that whatever she is saying probably has something to do with her stupid boyfriend, Tommy Hagan.

Tommy said this, Tommy did that, oh my god Tommy is so funny, Tommy Tommy Tommy, who has been Carol’s singular topic of conversation for going on two years now, much to your agonizing boredom.

Tommy is fine, if you like snot nosed bullies who never matured past age twelve and whose idea of trying to divert attention away from the fact that he’s more into Steve Harrington than he is his own girlfriend is by feigning some kind of bullshit interest in you — decidedly not your type, especially when his idea of flirting is giving you a hard shove in the back and calling you Princess while Carol is sitting there in the crook of his arm.

Yeah… so not your type.

Then again, you never would have thought that was Carol’s type, considering her interests have always swayed more Han Solo than anything else — (read: The Empire Strikes Back poster she has secretly taped to the inside of her closet door) — but you know she would deny that to her dying breath if you dared to remind her of it, so you keep your mouth shut and do your best to focus on moving the watery canned green beans around your tray with a plastic spork while she talks and talks and endlessly talks.

You’re on probation with Carol after last week’s debacle in the quad, anyway, so you’re not sure she would even allow you to speak if you tried. You’re supposed to just sit there and listen to whatever it is she has to say and nod along dutifully without interrupting.

That’s your whole job here, nothing more, nothing less.

You wonder idly if she would even notice if you slipped away, whether she would keep on talking until someone worth noticing, like Tina or Nicole, arrived at the table and finally implored her to shut the fuck up. Once upon a time you might have done so yourself, but you haven’t been brave enough to speak so directly to Carol since the eighth grade.

One too many times getting your head bitten off has conditioned you to wire your jaw shut and tune it out, for the sake of self-preservation, which is exactly why you’d just stood there and took every bit of vitriol Carol had to give you that morning last week.

Rumors spread like a disease in this town.

Nicole said something about hearing Tommy talking big in homeroom about something that happened over the weekend at a party you didn’t attend, which Carol knows because she gave you such shit over it, but facts aren’t important to her when it comes to things like this.

Someone suggested that you’d tried to grab his dick or something, and worst still, that he was into it, and Carol went nuclear.

Never mind that Tommy was the one spreading the rumor around, all that mattered to Carol was that it was you he was trying so desperately to incriminate.

Literally anyone else, and it wouldn’t have been such a big deal. If somebody had said that it was Vicki Carmichael or Tammy Thompson, Carol wouldn’t give a shit. She’d throw her weight around, make a show of girlie dominance, and that would be that. But no, it had to be you.

Why oh why did it have to be you? You imagine she’s asking herself the same question.

You’re fairly certain she would be less angry if she thought Tommy liked boys than she is at the mere suggestion that he might be interested in you and you’re not sure if your ears are ever going to stop ringing after the way she’d shouted at you, in front of God and practically everyone in school.

Tommy just stood there, smirking, of course, everyone just stood there, even you stood helplessly staring at your sneakers, just waiting for it to end until you noticed another pair of dingy reeboks appear beside your own.

“Good God!” A voice as familiar as childhood rang out, loud enough to cut the air and silence her mid-stream, startling you into snapping your head to attention.

Suddenly, there stood Eddie Munson, like a knight in leather and denim, sidled up beside you like you were old friends or something and it was the most natural thing in the world, like this wasn’t the first time something like this had ever happened in the history of cool kids and losers interacting at Hawkins High.

Tommy and Carol were speechless, you were speechless — Eddie was not.

“What on God’s green Earth is making that awful racket?” He said loudly – theatrically – and then he turned his blinding attention to you, “Sounds like someone’s skinning a cat out here,” he mused, giving you a gentle nudge with his elbow, like it was some kind of an inside joke between you, as if you were supposed to have any idea what that meant.

You stared back at him, wide-eyed and still too stunned to speak — you don’t know what you said following that if you even said anything at all.

You can’t remember, you don’t even remember what Carol said, what kind of vicious back and forth was volleyed between them before a staff member eventually arrived to break up the huddle and cart Eddie off.

Carol was pissed that you didn’t defend her, of course, and you’re still paying for that imagined slight with a concentrated cold shoulder from most everyone you know, but you can hardly make yourself care about being so summarily iced out like that.

Because Eddie Munson stood up for you.

You still can’t wrap your head around that. Nobody’s ever stood up for you like that before, nobody over the age of twelve, that is, but Eddie did.

That’s twice now he’s stepped in and saved you like that, and you have to resist the urge to shake the thought loose before it can take root in your mind – you can’t think about that right now, not with Carol sitting right there, but thankfully, she has not noticed the way your attention has begun to stray.

She’s too busy talking.

Deep down, somewhere in your subconscious, you know you ought to try and put a little more effort into listening to her, because she’s your best friend, even though she regularly puts you on probation like this for imagined slights.

Even though your friendship has conditions and stipulations that only seem to apply to you.

Even though you have nothing in common anymore except for the fact that you’ve been best friends since you were eight years old.

So, perhaps the better phrasing is you know you ought to try and put a little more effort into listening to her, because you used to be best friends.

Nostalgia is the ancient, flaking paste keeping the walls of your friendship standing, but the wallpaper has long since begun to peel to reveal the rot beneath.

Carol is still going on about who said what and who is dating who and all the latest gossip, talking at you more than talking to you, talking just to fill the air and you’re doing your best to at least try to pretend to look interested – really, you are – but there’s not much you can do to stop the way your gaze has begun to wander…

Because Eddie Munson has entered your periphery, Eddie Munson has suddenly jumped up onto his lunch table, Eddie Munson stood up for you.

Good God, indeed.

He’s standing on his table and violently demanding your undivided attention – not yours specifically, but rather the attention of anyone who just so happens to be bored enough to get caught watching his frenetic display … which is to say, you.

But you’re happy enough to let him have your attention, whatever he’s up to is bound to be vastly more enticing than anything Carol has to say. You’re not sure you’d be able to resist giving it to him even if you didn’t feel that way, if you were being honest – because you’ve had your eye on him from the moment you’d stepped in the lunchroom.

Not because you’re minorly obsessed with him or anything as uncool as that. Certainly not because you’re harboring a bizarre gargantuan little crush on him or that when you tune everything else out and let your brain switch tracks, it’s him your mind shifts to.

No, nothing so embarrassing as that.

He’s a rebel with entirely too much cause, standing tall on the flattop, talking big and proselytizing to his minions about something with all the fire and charisma of a bible belt preacher – you’re hopelessly lost on context, but you’re all but ready to convert to the church of Eddie Munson.

A shock of chills wracks your body as he raises his voice as the passion of whatever it is that’s got him going today seemingly overtakes him, and it’s almost enough to draw Carol’s attention, but considering this is not new behavior, most people tend to tune it out.

Normally you would lie to yourself and say you did too … normally, if it hadn’t been for the way you’d spent the night previous tossing and turning, restlessly caught in the throes of a decidedly raunchy REM cycle, the subject of which just so happens to be standing on a table across the room.

So what if you had a sex dream about him last night? So what if your skin is buzzing where you can still feel his hands pulling at you, the gentle fanning of his breath on the nape of your neck where it had felt so real...

“Sweet Girl,” he’d whispered to you in your dreams, on a wracked, heady exhale, voice thick and shot full of holes in a way you can only imagine it would sound – it sends a bolt of heat lancing through your core and forces you to shift in your seat and avert your gaze.

You are an island to your own fantasies, sitting there, feeling your heart throbbing between your legs, and trying to be subtle about the way you’re pinching your thighs together as you become a little hotter under the collar than you were a moment ago.

You wish you were still close enough with Carol to divulge the specificities of your dream in bowed heads and hushed sordid tones, but lately, you’ve started to feel like little more than an out-of-trend accessory, kept around simply for nostalgia’s sake.

Once upon a time, you might have been free to share, but you are entirely certain that were you to try that now, to lean across the table and whisper conspiratorially:

“Holy shit, you’ll never guess who I had the filthiest dream about last night,” you’d be immediately crucified, socially speaking.

Carol doesn’t care about the yearnings of your most secret self. Not anymore. Now she only cares about Tommy and who did what at Tina’s party and how embarrassing it was, and quietly sidling up to Steve Harrington.

She doesn’t have much use for you these days besides using you as a buffer to avoid submitting herself to the humiliation of doing things on her own.

You’re not friends, and your secrets are positively unsafe with her. You would cut ties if you had a little more self-respect, but high school is hard enough with bad friends, you know it would be that much worse with no friends.

The concept of starting fresh and trying to make new ones halfway through your sophomore year is a Sisyphean Hurdle you have no idea how to even begin to tackle, so you grin and bear it, and swallow any biblical yearnings you happen to harbor for the town pariah — besides, if you told her, all she would do is ask you what it is you think you know about anything raunchy before dutifully reminding you that you’re a virgin.

Actually, the technical term would be “still a virgin” and would be followed up with the demand to know “when you’re going to do something about it” — like somehow the untouched state of your being is a bad thing and that you are on a ticking clock.

You suppose it’s just one more patently uncool thing about you hampering her — her loser best friend doesn’t put out, has never had a boyfriend, never even been kissed.

You would remind her that it’s hard to put out when nobody knows you exist, but it would only be an exercise in her rattling off an endless list of names you’d so much rather eat glass than accompany anywhere socially.

So, you watch, fixated on the way Eddie stalks down the length of the table like a catwalk, very carefully picking his long-legged steps as he goes, and you might feel a little embarrassed about how poor a job you’re doing masking the blatant way you’re gawping at him, if it weren’t for the fact that you know you aren’t the only one watching.

Not that he would notice even if you were.

Who are you but Carol Perkins’s excessively boring beige shadow? Nobody notices you, because you’re not a real person. You're invisible. You don’t exist.

You don’t know when your stupid little crush began. Eddie’s always been there if you really think about it, a fixture in the background of the swirling miasma that is your social circle, suddenly much larger than it has ever been now that High School has become your habitat.

Hawkins is a small town, and Eddie’s lived here his whole life, same as you. He’s a year older, but that wouldn’t be enough distance to remove someone from your orbit under normal circumstances, let alone someone like him in a town like this.

Some part of you has always been mildly obsessed with him from a purely academic standpoint — forbidden knowledge is perhaps the most tantalizing thing to a young mind, and the mystery of Eddie Munson has always been completely off-limits to the likes of you.

You’ve known the Munson name since you were old enough to listen in on your parents’ conversations, same as anyone who has spent long enough in Hawkins to learn a thing or two about the local population.

Al Munson has always been something closer to a Universal Movie Monster than a real person in your mind, like Dracula or the Wolfman — the local boogeyman. Sure, he didn’t have a haunting playground nursery rhyme like Freddy Krueger, but the man was to be just as feared by schoolchildren and good Americans alike.

He was “bad news” — that’s what your parents always said — even now, you can still hear your father’s lecturing voice warning you that if you so much as spoke to a Munson you’d get instantly hooked on drugs, knocked up, and end up living out of a cardboard box by the time you are twenty.

Which is stupid, of course, because you’ve gone to school with Eddie since first grade and you’d seen him talk to plenty of people over the course of that time, none of whom had gone on to suffer such a dismal fate.

Still, there’s nothing so tempting as forbidden fruit – you’ve known that since you were old enough to recognize there was a difference between boys and girls.

Life went on as the notorious Munson patriarch finally went to prison, and with the streets safe again from the likes of the car-jacking drug-dealing town drunk, everyone was happy enough to force his son into the void he’d left in the zeitgeist.

People start to get bored when there are no local pariahs to blame all their misfortunes on. As far as the locals believe, Hawkins is not cursed by anything other than the Munsons.

You remember a time when it wasn’t like that, when your parents spoke about Eddie with a heavy dose of sympathy.

When you were little, it was “that poor kid,” but as you got older and Eddie started getting into more and more trouble, it became “stay away from that boy – he’s no good,” as if he was banging down the door for your attention.

You’re fairly certain he doesn’t even know you exist.

There wasn’t much danger in becoming corrupted by someone like Eddie Munson before Carol got popular, and that hasn’t changed just because you’ve won a golden ticket to the cool kid’s table… by proxy — you're more of an unwanted plus-one than anything else.

Not Charlie Bucket so much as Grandpa Joe.

But of course, you’ve never personally subscribed to the generalization that Eddie is evil or something.

He isn’t the boogeyman or Dracula or any of those things that go bump in the night, no matter what your raunchy little dreams might dictate.

As far as you’re concerned, Eddie isn’t even all that mean or scary, and maybe that’s just because he’d treated you so sweetly last autumn at Tina Burton’s Not-Quite-Halloween party….

You’re not supposed to be thinking about that, the first time Eddie came to your rescue. That memory is not safe within Carol’s proximity, but it is the ambrosia that has been singularly sustaining you for the better part of a year now. It is a shining jewel that you keep tucked safely in the spot behind your lungs, and you just can’t help but pull the curtain back to take a peek at it.

It was your first high school party.

You’d never partaken in anything before that night, never even been offered, but suddenly and unceremoniously finding yourself shoved up against Eddie in a game of puff-puff-pass, you let yourself be pressured into playing.

He must have realized you were nervous — maybe your fingers were trembling when he passed you the blunt, but suddenly, and for perhaps the first time in your life, he was speaking directly to you.

“Have you ever done this before?” Eddie asked you quietly, a heavy dose of concern shadowing the wry quirk of his brow.

It was startling, to realize the curse of your invisibility had so unceremoniously been lifted, leaving you suddenly exposed to a person you were never meant to speak to. You had to resist the urge to whip around and ask, “Who me?”.

Yes, you.

Eddie Munson was staring at you, asking you if you knew what you were doing.

Like something out of one of those anti-drug campaigns, you suddenly felt like you were caught in a situation you’d been preparing for your whole life: if Eddie Munson offers you drugs at a party, just say no kids.

Only you could not help but notice that he wasn’t nearly as scary or dangerous as McGruff the Crime Dog had led you to believe. In fact, he was entirely too enticing, and you were suddenly desperate to make a good impression.

You opened your mouth in the fanatical hope of saying something cool and casual — yeah, of course. You’ve done all kinds of shit — and were naturally horrified to hear the truth squeak out.

“No.”

Eddie’s brows crept toward one another forming a deep crease of concern between them, and suddenly you could read his mind - yeah, that’s what I thought, he seemed to say.

You watched as he stole a quick glance over his shoulder, and then licked his lips before leaning in, almost conspiratorially. Your heart was beating so aggressively in your chest that you were convinced he must have been able to hear it.

You still remember the way his lips brushed the shell of your ear when he whispered to you, how the fanning of his breath made you shiver with the tantalizing suggestion of nicotine and spearmint secrets.

“You don’t have to breathe it in if you don’t want to.” He mumbled, “Just puff it and pass — you’ll be fine.”

It was the last little bit that really did you in.

Not the overwhelming pressure of your peers insisting that just one hit won’t kill you, but the kind assurance from the person who provided the drugs that you didn’t have to partake if you didn’t want to.

It was the suggestion of a choice in your fate that ultimately lured you out of your field and into the underworld — sickly sweet pomegranate promises, dripping from his tongue to yours.

Just like your father and McGruff the Crime Dog and all those insufferable after-school specials had warned you, Eddie Munson turned his gaze upon you, and you were instantly hooked.

He passed you the blunt, and you tried not to get too stuck on the way his fingers brushed yours when you took it. You curled your lips in as you brought it to your mouth, and you puff puff puffed, holding your throat closed against any swirling wisps of smoke, subtly giving the impression that you knew how to handle your shit before you quickly handed it off to the next person.

It still burned in a funny sort of way, but nothing happened. You didn’t slip down the rabbit hole, and you didn’t burst into flames, though most importantly no one seemed to notice the wool being pulled over their eyes, and you dared to steal another cautious glance at Eddie.

His lips twitched in the faintest hint of a satisfied smile, and you bloomed under the approval of someone whose attention you never realized you so desperately craved.

Before you could think of something to say to extend that moment, even just a little bit, you watched your hopes get dashed to oblivion as he turned away from you, taking with him the bright light of his attention and leaving you shrouded in darkness.

Tragically, invisible again, just like that.

If only you could have been so lucky — trust Carol to call you out on faking it when you remained sober after three rounds of puffing and passing.

“You’re supposed to inhale, Dummy!” She shrieked, causing everyone in the circle to laugh at your blatant inexperience.

Everyone but Eddie, you would have noticed had you been able to look, but shame-faced as you were, you kept your gaze fixed firmly to the floor and you inhaled deeply on your next turn.

You coughed, of course, and choked on the musky smoke as it filled your lungs and seared them medium rare. It only took a handful of minutes before you quickly faded out of the room to the soundtrack of everyone laughing again.

The rest of that night remains a mystery to you to this day.

You don’t remember what happened after the game or how much longer the party lasted or even how you got home — you do remember how being under the influence set your mind to spinning, and how you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how long Eddie’s eyelashes were. How he wet his lips with a smooth pass of his pink tongue before he spoke and how good he smelled when he leaned in to whisper to you.

You also remember the way he looked at you every time he passed you the joint when your turn came around again, like he was actually seeing you instead of the person-shaped placeholder you’d become since bridging the gap from adolescence to adulthood, but you chalk that up to nothing more than a potent cocktail of narcotics and your ever-present desire to be perceived.

That’s not what stands out most about that night, however, because it’s not all you remember.

Somewhere, hidden back in the furthest reaches of your subconscious, you swear you can still feel the press of his body as he held you caged in the crook of his arm, with your head resting on his collarbone, tucked neatly beneath his chin.

You don’t know how, but you swear you know what his lips feel like, brushing the highest point of your cheekbone, and the long line of his nose bridge pressed flat against your temple with his breath gently fanning the side of your face.

You’re sure you can feel the deep rumble of his voice filling you with warmth, a low timber in his chest calling you Sweet Girl as he smoothes your hair back.

He told you everything was going to be okay, and you believe him to this day.

You don’t know how you know all that, but you do. You feel it with every fiber of your being in a way that is so goddamn real it can’t just be an effect of your stupid little crush and unchecked libido.

The things you remember from that night, and the things you don’t combined with a handful of particularly banal run-ins with him over the course of the last few weeks has left you itchy and starving for a fix, though not from anything he might be able to sell you.

That night at Tina’s party, academic fascination bloomed into something new, fueled entirely by teenage hormones and the need to be seen.

Like a door that once opened cannot be shut again, you find yourself more or less always thinking about Eddie.

Attention is the high you crave like nothing else, and you desperately want Eddie’s attention, his undivided, unfiltered, unwavering attention, fixed solely on you.

Selfishly, you want him to be as obsessed with you as you are with him, and it makes you feel like at any moment you’re going to implode on yourself like a dying star.

Your parents would be appalled.

Carol is still talking, and you’re still not listening, because Eddie is still going. And going. And going.

Eddie Eddie Eddie.

Your stomach does a cartoon flip-flop, and you hold a wheezy breath in your lungs when he vaults down from the end of his table furthest from his seat and closest to yours. Your eyes meet as he straightens up, and you avert your gaze immediately, feeling your face flush hot enough that you’re half surprised it doesn’t melt right off of your skull as you shift your focus back over to Carol.

Suddenly, Tommy Hagan is the most interesting person in the world, and you desperately want her to tell you everything about Tommy and Tina and who said what and how embarrassing it was.

You’ve changed your mind. Eddie’s attention is blinding – it makes you feel exposed, like he’s a spotlight shining straight through to your innermost self — your secret self, the one that thinks about him in the wee hours of the morning when sleep eludes you and deft fingers creep their way down your body, edging toward the wanting apex of your spread thighs and slipping past creamy slick barriers to pull soft, lilting breaths from your parted lips as Eddie calls you Sweet Girl … Sweet Girl...Sweet Girl until you’re going hot and cold, body wracked, seizing, and trembling and you have to clamp your jaw shut to stop the sordid sounds of your orgasm from escaping your lips…

Jesus Christ –

No, actually, you’re much more comfortable remaining a wallflower, letting someone else get wrapped up in that undivided, unwavering, fixed-solely-on-you attention.

Better to stand aside for someone made to withstand that kind of heat from someone like Eddie, someone edgy and cool, who gives the middle finger to the world and dresses the part — not some midwestern babysitter from a town no one has ever heard of.

He’s from that town that no one has ever heard of, too, you think watching Carol’s lips move and hearing nothing but your own heartbeat. You’re looking at him again before you’ve even realized your attention has begun to stray – your guts seize, because he’s looking too.

Your heart spasms in your chest and scrambles up into your throat, punching an airy breath out of you and flattening your lungs. Suddenly, you’re winded and desperately trying to catch your breath in a way that you hope is at least subtle.

Fuck.

There’s that blinding light, that feeling of indecent exposure — it’s like looking into the sun, and somehow you can’t bring yourself to look away.

You’re painfully aware of how you’re staring at him again, though this time it is because he has your eyes and he absolutely refuses to let go.

Somehow it doesn’t feel even the slightest bit aggressive, more like an understanding – he sees you.

He sees you.

Eddie Munson sees you, so that means you must be real, right?

You’re blushing, you know you’ve got to be bright crimson — beet red even. You’ve got no idea how Carol hasn’t already clocked your hormonal distress but thank God she’s too busy looking at her nails to look at you.

You dare to steal another glance, and when you do Eddie flashes you a brief, goofy smile, all crooked lips twisted up to one side, the faintest suggestion of teeth poking out. It’s contagious, that smile, and suddenly you feel the corners of your mouth twitching in response, daring you to try to resist.

“Hello? Ground control to Major Tom—”

Carol snaps her perfectly manicured fingers in your face, breaking the spell and bringing the quiet din of the lunchroom rushing back in on you.

It feels like getting swamped at the beach, swept off of your feet by the tide, and rolled in the undercurrent. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Are you even listening to me?” She snipes, scrunching her nose in aggravation.

You blink stupidly at her as she comes back into focus, but you don’t answer.

You very clearly hadn’t, and it feels foolish to try and lie about it because Carol loves to remind you that she always knows when you’re lying, and Eddie is still standing there.

You can’t stop yourself from looking, because of course you can’t, and he rewards you with that same big smile when you do. It makes your insides go tight and squirmy, and you have to clench your teeth to keep a straight face.

The change in your demeanor is unfortunately not lost on Carol.

She narrows her eyes, and you feel your heart seize with panic as she slowly begins to turn to see what could possibly be so important to hold your rapt attention. You have to grip the edges of your seat to stop yourself from reaching out across the table and pulling her back to face you.

And when she sees Eddie standing there, you brace yourself for the sky to come crashing down on your head.

Carol physically recoils - dramatically so - like she’s been suddenly doused in ice water.

It takes her a moment to recover, but when she does, she has nothing but vitriol for him, much to your chagrin.

“Take a picture, Freak, it’ll last longer.” She snaps.

Something indiscernible crosses Eddie’s features as his gaze flicks over to her from you and back again. His brows marry in the middle and he pulls a face that is tinged ever so slightly with something that looks a little too much like hurt than you're comfortable with and you’re suddenly possessed with a violent and desperate need to make him understand that you are not with her, despite how stridently untrue that is.

The flash of vulnerability makes your stomach go tight, especially when Carol continues.

“Seriously, what the fuck are you looking at?”

The hurt look is gone before it has time to even settle, and Eddie wrinkles his nose, quirking a disdainful brow as he stares poison daggers down at your friend.

She hates him and he hates her right back — circle of life. All you can do is desperately hope beyond hope that you’re not lumped into that circle by association.

“Nothing,” Eddie drolls, “Just wondering what Bulimia Barbie is doing wandering around without her Ken doll.”

Had she been facing you, you’re sure you would have seen her blanch.

He turns to make the stilted walk back to his seat at the head of his table, electing to take the floor rather than the table top this time.

Eddie gives you one last parting glance, and you pull a face that you hope looks at least halfway as apologetic as it feels.

It was a mean thing to say, if not entirely deserved.

There are a lot of ways to get under Carol’s skin, she’s never been exactly easygoing, but perhaps the quickest way to cut her deep is to do so by mentioning the eating disorder she’s been not-so-privately struggling with since the eighth grade.

She’d been devastated when word of it got out, and thoroughly convinced you were the snitch — you didn’t have the heart to tell her it was Tommy who’d let that information slip. Not that she would have believed you.

Carol makes a harsh sound of indignation in the back of her throat.

“Asshole!” She shouts, then twists back around just in time to see you watching Eddie go. “—and what the fuck are you looking at?” Carol bites.

You snap back to attention and do your best to curl in on yourself.

“Nothing.” You say quickly, only you don’t fool her for a moment.

“…Oh, gross —” she scoffs, “What, are you swapping eyes with the Freak?”

The adrenaline of being caught bursts in your midsection and fires lightning down to the tips of your fingers as she gapes at you, eyes as big as dinner plates and practically bugging out on stalks. She admonishes you with a disappointed utterance of your name, and your cheeks burn with shame.

“I was just being friendly.” You stress, averting your gaze and picking idly at your lunch despite how you’ve since lost your appetite.

“With Eddie Munson? Ugh — gag me!”

The unchecked disdain in her tone doesn’t sit right with you, because it’s not like she’s ever even said two words to Eddie that weren’t hurled as insults, and you can’t help yourself clicking your tongue.

“Oh, he’s not that bad,” you say.

Carol snorts out an undainty sound of disgust.

“He’s a freak.” She says flatly — so you keep saying, you think — “He worships the Devil or whatever — everybody knows that.”

There is nothing you can do to stifle the bitter snort of laughter from bubbling up out of you, a harsh sardonic sound that escapes before you can reign it in.

Carol gives you a hard look, almost like she’s daring you to disagree, and much to your own surprise, you evidently dare.

“No, he doesn’t,” you press, wrinkling your nose in a quiet defiance.

A brief flash of hatred colors her features, and you can’t help but feel that the curtain has been pulled back and you’re suddenly looking at her true self.

Suddenly, Carol is all but shouting at you as her eyes go bright and her skin flushes a blotchy crimson.

“Oh please, like you know any better, Little Miss Babysitter!”

She hurls it at you like a slur and you flinch as the intention strikes you.

You don’t know precisely when Carol became so mean, only that it happened sometime between the transition from seventh to eighth grade, right around the time she’d gotten her first training bra and started to notice how boys were noticing her — right around the time Tommy showed up.

Since that day, everything between the two of you has been a competition that she is determined to win, despite how clearly uninterested you are in participating.

Still, you feel the strangest sense of righteous indignation rising in you – she doesn’t know Eddie, never even bothered to try, and here she is condemning him right alongside everyone else just because it’s what’s currently on trend.

You want to ask her how that’s fair, how she would feel if the shoe were on the other foot, but you swallow the urge as you can suddenly hear the condescending tone of your mother asking you if you’d jump off of a cliff the same as everyone.

Because at the end of the day, you don’t know Eddie any better than she does, not with all your wishing and hoping and fantasizing, and certainly not after the way he’d looked at you at Tina’s party – Sweet Girl…

“Yeah okay, whatever,” You mumble, because there’s no point in arguing with Carol when she gets like this.

Only your submission doesn’t apparently sit right with Carol - her face twists into a displeased scowl as she snatches up the can of coke that is the entirety of her lunch and begins to raise it to her bubblegum pink lips before thinking better of it and setting it back down with a harsh sigh.

You don’t know what’s got her so flustered, or what you did to embarrass her so badly. All you did was smile at Eddie, it’s not like you invited him to come and sit at the table with you.

“Why do you care anyway?” She demands then, clearly not done fighting.

By now, you know the telltale signs of this game: she’s probing for a flaw, something you’re sensitive about that she can pick at until it’s raw and oozing and she feels better for having taken you down a notch.

All she needs is a scrap, something she can run with until it snowballs out of control.

But you won’t give her the satisfaction, not after the way she’d screamed at you so publicly last week.

“I don’t,” You say flatly, sitting up a little straighter.

“Then how come you’re defending him?” She posits.

You cross your arms.

“I’m not.”

“You are though.” She insists, like she’s caught the scent of something, and is trying her best to sniff it out. “You’ve got that stupid look on your face like you’re about to get all self-righteous or something. What’s the deal? Do you like him or something?”

Your heart seizes and suddenly you can feel color bleeding into your cheeks as your armor creaks under the stress of her accusation. How could she possibly know that?

Because she’s your best friend, she knows everything about you…

“No…” you say, though even you are not convinced by the quavering tone of your voice.

Carol stares at you, briefly uncomprehending before it dawns on her, and suddenly her eyes are blazing with malicious delight.

Shit.

“Oh, nasty!” She shouts, then gasps, mouth falling open in scandal, “You do! You totally do!”

“I don’t – I mean, I don’t even know him.” You stammer, kicking yourself for how your resolve has begun to waver.

“Doesn’t mean you’re not into him! Oh, that’s so gross!” Carol sneers, she is loving this all too much, “Oh, my God, look at you – you’re blushing!”

Your hands fly reflexively up to bracket your face, and you hate yourself for the heat you can feel billowing off of you, betraying you.

Carol squeals with malevolent glee and you know you must be sweating for the way she is looking at you, eyes bright, teeth bared, wet, and shining in a hungry grin like a predator getting ready to make a meal out of you.

“Oh-kay, that’s enough.” You say, trying and failing to be firm as you are suddenly unable to keep your voice from shaking as you speak.

She doesn’t hear you – that or she just plain ignores you because she is getting too much of a rise out of your misery.

“Jesus Christ, what are you, like, in love with him?”

“Carol – stop.”

“You are! You totally are!” She cackles, “Jesus Christ, you want to marry him and have a hundred of his freak babies!”

She is practically shouting and you are this close to panicking about it, glancing anxiously across the room to the table where Eddie is sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, talking and laughing with his friends about something.

You have to force yourself to believe that they aren’t laughing at you because there’s no way they could possibly be clued into your conversation with Carol … who has started play-acting that she is you, moaning loud and wantonly.

It's shockingly apropos in the worst possible way, almost like somehow she’d found the time to steal away, slip back into your bedroom where she knows you keep your diary tucked safely beneath your mattress, and read the mad scribblings you’d left smeared across the pages that morning.

“Oh, God–!” She cries, igniting a burst of cold anxiety in the pit of your stomach like a firework going off. “Oh, Eddie! Don’t stop! Right there – Yes! YES! YES!”

You could die. You could literally die.

People have started to look over at you, stare at you, and all of that would almost be fine if it weren’t for the fact that you are currently imploding like that dying star.

You can’t be certain if its a result of your friend’s whorish display or just the nagging feeling of someone staring at him (because if you weren't watching him like a hawk before, you certainly are now) but you watch in horror as Eddie’s attention snaps back over to your table, to you.

Your heart spasms in a bright bolt of panic, and you’re on your feet with a loud squeak of chair legs on linoleum – much louder than anything Carol had just kicked up. If people weren’t staring before, they’re certainly staring now, watching you frantically attempt to gather your things and make a break for it before your brain can catch up with you.

"Seriously? You're leaving?"

“I gotta go,” you say quickly.

“Oh, come on, I was just kidding.” Carol sighs, still sitting there wrought with mean giggles, “Where are you going?”

You can hardly hear her over the blood rushing in your ears. Your heart is hammering so violently against your ribcage that you can barely catch your breath to try and stammer out an excuse.

“I just remembered,” You begin, aimlessly, “I have this… thing I have to do for class, I gotta go work on it.”

You shove the last of your belongings haphazardly into your backpack and slide your lunch tray into the nearest trashcan – the entire tray, hitting the bottom of the bin with a loud thump that has the lunch lady shouting indignantly at you from the other side of the room.

You don’t linger to rectify your mistake or apologize or do anything of the sort, because your frantic attempts to escape the lunchroom have drawn more attention.

One cursory glance reveals to you that, devastatingly, Eddie’s entire lunch table has turned to watch you go.

You nearly stumble over your feet.

“Liar.” Carol shouts after you, “Where are you really going?”

“I’ll see you later!”

You twist at the waist and wave when she calls your name again, and you can’t help but get stuck on the way you notice Eddie leaning back dangerously in his chair, craning his neck back to watch you go in a way that makes your heart seize against your ribs.

His eyes go wide when he sees you looking, and he lurches forward to right himself again, briefly losing his balance and just about toppling out of the chair as he does.

Jesus fucking Christ.

You twist back around and pick up your pace, desperate to get out of there before anyone gets the bright idea to follow you.

You move through the halls without really knowing where you intend to go, but before you realize it, you’re in the gymnasium, stalking across the empty floor to tuck yourself back beneath the bleachers.

It’s not the most covert hiding spot, plenty of people come down here to make out and the braver, hornier couples around campus have been known to steal away and engage in the odd session of heavy petting or dry humping back here where they can get their rocks off more or less removed from prying eyes.

You’ve got no such plans to follow suit, despite the ruined state of your panties, as you scramble to slip out of sight with a gentle squeak of Chucks on clear coat.

Your heart is pounding as you pull your knees up to your chest, face absolutely burning over the way Carol’s stupid play acting has left you slick and throbbing with the memory of your stupid, stupid dream, but you bite the inside of your cheek until it hurts and violently will yourself to get a grip.

You pull your bag into your lap and begin rifling through its haphazard contents, desperately searching for some kind of a distraction – something to take your mind off of the lingering sensation of full lips and scarred fingertips and hot fanning breath – Jesus Christ, get a hold of yourself.

You need your book, you need to lose yourself in thick text, hard science fiction, and worlds and histories and glossaries of outlandish names… only your book is not here.

Your well-loved, annotated copy of Dune, whose cover is hanging on by a thread with how many times it has been bent backward as you pour over the familiar text, whose pages are creased and dog-eared and littered with notes and doodles and all the little lines and themes you never want to forget.

It’s not here, even after you dig and dig and dig, even after you dump your bag on the gymnasium floor and spread all your things out in a neat fan in front of you. Your book is still missing.

Where the hell is your book?

You hardly get the time to stress about it much further than that before the school bell rings with a shrill, metallic clanging cry, startling your brain back into working action and sending you scrambling to shove all your things back into your bag.

You’re almost relieved. You’d been sitting there, just biding your time until Carol eventually sniffed you out and you would have to brace yourself for round two, but your schedules are thankfully far removed from one another.

She’s got Mrs. O’Donnell for fifth period, whose classroom lies mercifully on the other side of the school from your fifth-period chemistry class, and the ringing of the end of lunch bell is a Godsend, solidifying your escape and requisite safety from another bout of humiliation.

Your lab partner is a freshman, Gareth Emerson, who just so happens to be a newer addition to Eddie’s roving gang of minions. Somehow, that is much less terrifying than you’d half expected it to be when you first noticed him in the lunchroom, sitting tucked neatly into the chair at Eddie’s side and hanging on his every word.

It had just been nice to know that you’re not the only one so affected by him.

Still, you’d often wondered how Gareth was lucky enough to win such a coveted spot so early on in his tenure, considering Eddie Munson tends to be a particularly terrifying entity to the newest additions to the Hawkins High student body, but as you’d gotten to know him, you stopped wondering about that.

Gareth’s a sweetheart. He’s nice, funny, and reminds you a lot of your neighbor, Dustin Henderson, if he were a little older and just a little bit cooler, that is. It’s no wonder he’s so quickly found himself at a place of honor at Eddie’s side, how could anyone resist him?

You wish you could hang out with Gareth instead of Carol and the others.

You wish you could sit comfortably at lunch and talk about the things that actually held your interest, that you could make afterschool and weekend plans without a hint of dread, safe in the knowledge that a trip to the movies or to the arcade was simply that, with no ulterior motives or hidden agendas, no fear of being humiliated or abused for the amusement of the people who were supposed to be your friends.

You wish you could be real friends with Gareth, but Gareth hangs out with Eddie, and the thought of joining them at their lunch table is enough to send your insides twisting into acrobatics, so at the end of the day, you just have to settle with the friendship you have, limited to the confines of the classroom.

“Hey,” Gareth says, frowning quizzically at you as you unpack your things and hop up onto the metal stool beside him, “What happened to you at lunch? You looked like you were about to pop.”

Your insides clench with shame.

“You saw that, huh?” You mumble.

“Everybody saw that.” He scoffs, pulling a face.

Everybody. The word clangs around your ribs and you have to blink back the image of Eddie leaning so far back in his chair, watching you run from the lunchroom. Literally run, like some kind of scared little kid fleeing the monster that lives under their bed.

Great.

“What does she think you did this time? Sell her firstborn child for concert tickets or something?”

You sigh, slumping forward to prop your head up on your elbow and level Gareth with an unimpressed look.

“Nothing – I don’t want to talk about it.”

He takes the hint and offers you his hands in a show of surrender before turning back to the blackboard, where Mr. Kapz has stepped up and begun scribbling formulas with a hard squeak of chalk.

You watch without really seeing, trying to keep your mind from drifting too far with all your classmates sitting around you.

There is a cold lump in the pit of your stomach as a hundred different things whisk around your mind, all fighting tooth and nail for the limited real estate left in your brain with so much of Eddie stuffed up in there.

It’s always like that though, and it leaves you feeling particularly pathetic, thinking about yourself, sitting beneath the bleachers on your own, like the loser you are, hiding from your friends, wishing things were different, wishing you could be the person they wanted you to be, wishing you could be free of them.

You suck greedily on a sharp intake of air and shake your head to dislodge that line of thinking before it can take root and pivot to a much more pressing matter, for the sake of your own self-preservation.

“Hey, weird question,” You start, tilting your head down toward your shoulder and speaking in a loud whisper, “But have you seen my copy of Dune?”

Gareth’s brows are pulled tight over his eyes when you glance at him, and you are quick to elaborate,

“It’s all beat up and annotated…?”

“Yeah, no— I mean, sure I’ve seen it—”

You hardly let him finish.

“That’s great! Where is it?”

“...Eddie’s got it.”

It hits you like a fist to the gut, punching your lungs flat and forcing the air out. Your heart thumps a heavy beat like it always does when someone mentions Eddie and you feel your tongue go fat in your mouth.

“Ed-Eddie Munson?” You splutter, voice an embarrassing octave higher than normal, and barely manage to get the sound out over the way your throat is closing up.

You can feel your cheeks heating just from the sordid act of speaking his name aloud.

If Gareth takes any sort of hint from your bizarre reaction, he doesn’t let on.

“Yeah.” He says.

You blink back at him, waiting for him to elaborate and feeling your chest go tight when he doesn’t.

“…Why does he have my book?”

“He said you left it in the parking lot after you dumped your stuff last week—”

Oh, right…

In the wake of everything else that happened that day, you’d almost completely forgotten about that…

You’d been running late for school, having spectacularly slept through your alarm and been so rudely awakened by the thunderous hammering of two little fists, doing their best to bang down your bedroom door – Dustin, shouting at you to get your ass up out of bed.

You’d forgotten you were supposed to be carpooling that morning, and you're sure you must have broken some kind of a land speed record with how you burnt rubber to get the both of you to school on time. Gas pedal to the floor, you made the distance in five minutes flat.

You’d been too caught up in your sudden prospective future as a Formula One driver to notice how you were headed for disaster, jogging across the parking lot and trying to stuff your Walkman into your backpack as a wall of denim, patches, and studs stumbled haphazardly out of the open door of a semi-shitty beat-up panel van and directly into your path.

You barely had time to look up, let alone pivot to try and avoid the sudden six-foot obstacle before you, so naturally you collided, shoulder checking broad, leather-clad shoulder and knocking you sideways.

You managed to keep your feet and even catch your Walkman with an incredible feat of feline grace, but it came at the expense of your bag, which went tumbling topsy turvy, upchucking its contents all over the pavement at your feet.

Fantastic.

They stepped into your path, whoever they were, they crashed into you, but you still stammered out an apology, because how could they have been expected to look out for you when you’re running around under a cloak of invisibility.

Then, you dropped to your knees in an attempt to catch your pens and pencils before they could roll away. You fully expected to be ignored, to watch whoever it was that had just knocked your shit into the dirt skip off to class like you didn’t even exist, but when you looked up, there was Eddie Munson, crouched on the asphalt right alongside you with his head bowed toward yours, stacking your books and muttering his own apology.

It just about damn near knocked the wind out of you, suddenly finding yourself so close to him again after spending so long quietly yearning for his proximity.

You couldn’t help but breathe deep, trying to get a sense of him, refresh the waning memory you clung to – he still smelled the way you remember, like camels and spearmint gum standing out over the notes of whatever cheap cologne he’d obviously dusted himself in, and Old Spice.

It made your mouth water, and then go completely dry when he looked up at you, turning that honey-warm gaze on you and bathing you in his spotlight.

You weren’t invisible anymore, you were blushing, and you’d missed whatever it was he’d said to you – fuck.

You weren’t listening, you were staring into his eyes, at the faint dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose, at the plush spread of his lips, and the pink tip of his tongue darting out to swipe a slick sheen of moisture across them.

Somewhere, distantly, you could hear your Walkman still playing, Ann Wilson imploring you to get a little more lost in him than is rightly wise…

Oh, he’s a magic man, Mama…

And he was waiting for you to answer him.

Fuck. What the fuck did he just say?

“My fault…" Eddie mumbled thickly, "Didn’t see you there,”

Oh, thank God for that.

“Oh – God, are you kidding? It happens all the time.” You scoffed, dismissing the notion with a flippant wave.

It was almost a cool, collected thing to say, but then you just kept talking,

“Like. Way more than you would think,”

And talking.

“It’s actually kind of ridiculous how often people bump into me like that–”

And talking,

“Honestly, at this point, I feel like I should start wearing a bell.”

Shut up shut up shut up already! You screamed at yourself, but before you could well and truly condemn yourself for being such a goddamn awkward weirdo, Eddie’s face twisted up in amusement and he laughed out loud.

A little too loud for something that wasn’t even halfway to being a joke – he was obviously high, the whites of his eyes were tinged an angry swollen pink, hooded and nearly closed as he peered over at you with his face split up in that crooked smile of his, but it was still so wildly endearing you couldn’t help but giggle yourself.

You can’t believe you’d nearly forgotten that, that wonderful almost perfect moment of brushing fingers and traded looks and semi-meaningful silences.

If you really think about it, it makes perfect sense that he has your book. You haven’t seen your book since that day, haven’t even thought about it. It had been all but washed away under the bell clanging effect of what happened later that morning between classes, with Carol jumping down your throat and Eddie riding in to pull you out of her line of fire.

Good God! He shouts in your memory, and you can’t help but agree with him.

“Didn’t he give it back to you?” Gareth asks, brows marrying over his eyes.

You give your lab partner an incredulous look because never mind how this new information is ever so subtly breaking your brain, but why on Earth would you be asking after your copy of Dune if Eddie had already given it back to you?

The lack of logic there seems to dawn on Gareth just a tad too late to save face.

“Guess not, never mind,” he hums, twisting back in his seat to face the blackboard.

You sit, staring at nothing in particular as you try and fail to wrap your head around the concept of Eddie Munson carrying around your book.

There’s something incredibly personal about an annotated book, and you can’t decide if you ought to be embarrassed about that, hoping that he didn’t stop to take the time to read any of the inane things you’d written there.

Suddenly you’re wracking your brain to try and remember if you’d gone and scribbled anything too incriminating in the margins, whether you’d absently scribbled out a dopey “Mrs. – Munson” alongside all your little love notes to Paul Atreides. You imagine it written out in loopy script, replete with doodles of hearts and clouds and all the stupid cupid bullshit that is typically kept strictly within the pages of your diary.

You’re suddenly burning with hot, whorish shame as you think back to the pages you’d frantically scribbled on in the aftermath of the wet dream you’d woken from that morning, fingers trembling as you fought to get it down on paper before the vivid images and sensations slipped from your grasp and left you with nothing more than faint memories of calloused hands and full lips, burning your skin with the suggestion of phantom touches.

Yeah, you’re going to have to go back and revisit that when you get home this afternoon, thank God you’re not babysitting tonight.

You realize after a moment that in staring off into space, trying simultaneously to banish the feeling and relieve it, that you’ve actually been sitting, staring at Gareth, watching him wrestle with something like he’s trying to decide whether or not to let more information slip.

Truly, you’re not sure how much more truth you can stomach here in fifth period chemistry, sitting perched on your metal stool and trying oh-so-subtly to shift over to the edge and give yourself a little relief from the way that your heart is throbbing in your panties again.

Your guts seize like you’ve been caught red handed when Gareth twists back around to face you and ducks his head conspiratorially.

For lack of anything better to do, you mirror his movements and hope beyond hope that, if you’re blushing, he doesn’t notice.

“Okay, so…” he begins softly, “You didn’t hear it from me, but... he likes you,”

You do your best not to react as your heart leaps into your throat – you don’t dare to hope to know who he means.

“Who does?” You ask, playing dumb for the sake of your poor, nervous heart, because what if you’re wrong?

You’re probably wrong.

“Eddie does.”

Then again, maybe not… oh, shit.

Gareth continues.

“Like… a lot.”

OH SHIT.

Oh shit oh fuck oh sHIT be cool be cool be fucking cool!

It takes every fiber of your limited willpower not to react, because honestly, you could scream. This is what it feels like to have your wildest dreams come true.

Eddie Munson likes you, Gareth said, like a lot, he said.

Maybe it’s just the wrecked state you’ve been existing in from the moment you snapped into consciousness that morning, but suddenly you’re desperate, giddy, feeling the hard push of the urge to run and go find Eddie.

Find him and seize him by the shoulders and shake him and scream and shout and cheer and... and and and... and do what?

Confess your feelings?

Make some sort of grand declaration then drag him off somewhere to hop on his dick?

That’s what your ovaries are currently imploring you to do. Finally do something about that goddamn virginity of yours so Carol will climb down out of your ass.

But that’s ridiculous, right? And not at all practical, fantasizing about running off and trying to consummate what, as far as you can tell, is only a rumor before it can slip from your grasp.

Where would you even go?

Under the bleachers, where the braver, hornier couples go to rub up against each other and get their rocks off.

No, no that’s stupid… and yet?

You’ve heard the talk about Eddie, how he’s supposed to be easy or something — some part of you is pretty sure he’d be game to take you out to the back of his van if you went over and asked him nicely... just ask him nicely to lift your skirt and help you out with that pesky little virginal problem of yours, Christ, how embarrassing.

He’d probably laugh in your face if you did. How do you know for sure that he even really likes you? What makes you think that there’s even the slightest chance that your stupid crush on him could ever be reciprocated?

You’re not a real person, remember? You don’t put out because you don’t exist.

No, Eddie doesn’t like you, you decide in an instant, how could he? He doesn’t even know you.

Gareth is wrong, and worse still, he’s teasing you – he has to be. It is, after all, the opening line to the oldest joke in the Hawkins High popular kid book: so, Eddie Munson wants to take you to prom…what do you do?

It makes your chest hurt, and you have to pull your lips into a tight line to keep them from wobbling.

Ha-ha, real funny joke, tease the loser virgin for the big stupid crush she has on the local Freak.

“That’s mean, Gareth.” You say quietly.

“What is?”

You shake your head because you almost can’t bear to say it.

“Teasing like that. That’s not nice...”

He gives you a horrified look, like you’ve suddenly got bugs crawling out of your ears.

“What? No, Dude, it’s not like that at all!” Gareth stresses, “I promise I’m being so serious right now. Eddie likes you. He really likes you.”

It feels risky, but you can’t help yourself. Gareth’s a sweetheart, why would he lie to you?

“…Really?” You ask, ever so slightly embarrassed at how small and hopeful your voice suddenly sounds and trying so, so hard to play it cool.

“Yes… and it’s super goddamn annoying — no offense,”

You shake your head, because in the absence of the ability to form rational thought you rely on deep-seeded pleasantries.

“Oh, no, of course.” You say, “None taken … I think.”

You suddenly can’t make your brain work, it just sits there like a fat grey lumpy pile of worms in your skull. Part of you is suddenly so sure that you can smell the smoke wafting up off of it as it overheats in your attempt to jumpstart it again.

Eddie likes you. This is all really happening.

It takes you a moment too long to realize that Gareth is still talking, and a moment even longer to clue yourself back in to what he’s saying.

“— he’s been going around in circles trying to work up the courage to talk to you, but he’s chicken shit, so he won’t do it unless he has some bullshit excuse to make it all casual — giving you your book back was supposed to be his excuse, but that was clearly a bust,”

And then, “Also, he basically threatened to kill me if I said anything so just do me a favor and be cool, alright? Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“…So why tell me?” you ask, almost startled by the sound of your own voice and how far away it sounds.

You’re having an out-of-body experience, that’s what this has got to be, sitting there, floating, watching yourself have this conversation with Gareth.

Eddie Munson has your book, Eddie Munson stood up for you, Eddie Munson likes you...

“Because he freaked when he found out we were lab partners and he’s being a huge creep pressing me for information about you, like he expects me to spy on you or something... Anyway, I figured with how fucking weird he always acts around you that you probably already knew.”

You shake your head and hope to God the movement doesn’t cause your eyeballs to fall out of your sockets. You can’t remember if you’ve blinked over the course of the last five minutes.

“I didn’t.” You squeak.

His eyes go wide and you watch the color drain from his face.

“Oh. Shit,” He says, “— well, like I said, you didn’t hear it from me.”

You didn’t hear it from anybody. As far as you’re concerned, this conversation isn’t actually happening. Any moment now you’re going to snap out of whatever fugue state you’ve obviously just slipped into, and you’re going to find that this is all a dream – only your thigh is going raw from where you’ve been subtly pinching yourself.

Still, you still don’t completely believe Gareth isn’t teasing you – this feels like dangerous ground and suddenly your guts are churning because you don’t know what to do with this information.

You don’t know how to make yourself understand that the one person who has always been wholly off-limits to you could suddenly be within your grasp.

Possibility makes you ravenous and you have to fight to resist the urge to seize Gareth by the front of his torn flannel shirt and shake him, demanding more more more, that he tell you everything there is to know about Eddie and everything he’s ever said about you among the safety of friends.

With a sharp pang, you realize that you’re suddenly violently jealous about the confidence he has to freely speak about the objects of his affections – evidently, you.

The thought has warmth bleeding through your abdomen and filling up your chest cavity. You’re floating again, and you’re suddenly so, wickedly pleased.

Carol would shit her pants if she found out.

The rest of class comes and goes without incident, and you don’t hear a word of the lesson.

You’re far too busy fantasizing about all your wildest dreams coming true, planning your future with Eddie, picturing your wedding and your first home together, growing old together, and all the road trips and holidays and milestones you’ll hit in between.

By the last twenty minutes of the lesson, you’re even toying with naming your children.

You’re disgusting and pathetic and so far gone for him in such a stupid, irresponsible way. Only there’s one tiny little obstacle standing in the way of all of that.

Gareth says he’s not brave enough to talk to you, not without good reason, which is so painfully endearing, but a real problem because that makes two of you – you can barely even look at Eddie, let alone fathom trying to strike up a conversation.

So, therein lies the problem. How on Earth are you supposed to marry him and have a hundred of his babies, as Carol had so eloquently put it, if neither of you can manage to buck up the courage to have a normal conversation?

The bell is ringing before you can decide how to become a human being again, you’re still more cloud than girl when you catch Gareth as he begins packing up.

“Listen, tell Eddie…” You start, feeling suddenly too shy to have his name in your mouth – it feels heavy on your tongue, forbidden, and you chicken out, “Tell him… that I don’t bite. If he wants to talk to me … then he should just come talk to me, right?”

Gareth rolls his eyes,

“I told him that, like, a hundred times… but I’ll tell him again. I’ll say you said so this time.”

The promise pleases you immensely, only there is one glaring issue with that plan. He was never meant to tell you how Eddie supposedly feels about you. You’re not supposed to know he likes you.

You bite your lip and feel your brows creep toward one another, forming a deep crease of worry between them.

“Is that gonna get you in trouble?” You ask.

Gareth opens his mouth to speak, then snaps it shut again as the words fail to come, like he too had very conveniently forgotten that the information he’d just passed to you was decidedly not for you.

He hums thoughtfully, brows furrowed, and face pulled tight into a mask of displeased concentration.

What to do, what to do.

Finally, after a moment that feels like eternity, one you spend fidgeting with your fingers twisting them to the point of pain, holding a breath in your lungs almost like you’re afraid if you breathe he’ll take it all back.

Gareth shrugs.

“...well, I don’t see why he needs to know that I’m the one who told you… people talk.”

Truer words have never been spoken.

A hundred years and a short lifetime ago, you and Carol spent an evening trading secrets and the deepest desires of your heart, and you jumped up and down on her springy mattress, screaming along to the Go-Go's and promising one another that, just like the song said, your lips were sealed.

You can’t help but wonder if she ever really meant it, if she would have laughed and recoiled and teased you mercilessly if you trusted her with your secret feelings about Eddie Munson. Only you had made the same decision and elected not to tell her even back then, even when your secrets were still safe with her.

Can you hear them? They talk about us, telling lies, well, that’s no surprise.

People talk, Gareth said.

“They certainly do.” You hum, shouldering your bag and following him out the door.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #joseph quinn eddie munson #stranger things fic #endless summer fic #cruel summer prequel

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alohastyles-x · 1 year

Note

Hi! I had a request for your cruel summer event if you don’t mind :)

Kate Bishop x fem!Reader, Wildest Dreams (like, all of it?), fluff/smut

Totally fine if you don’t want to!

“She said “let’s get out of this town, drive out from the city, away from the crowds” | “She’s so tall and handsome as hell, she’s so bad but she does it so well” | “You'll see me in hindsight Tangled up with you all night Burning it down Someday when you leave me I bet these memorie Follow you around | “Say you'll remember me Standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just pretend”

note: this is a part of my Cruel Summer (Marvel's Version) Project, running all summer long. "totally fine if you don't want to", nonnie how could i NOT?! I also was unaware how popular kate is for fics on here rn, so I will be hyperfixating hard thank youuuuu. Clearly I am using your ask nonnie to manifest tf out of some romance in my life that I am so lacking hahahah. anyways, I hope you enjoy bby! <3

wordcount: 1.7k

trope / pairing: kate bishop x Fem Reader , fluff&smut

warnings: smutty smut smut at the end, but like a sweet smut (still 18+ tho)

Materslist | Marvel Masterlist | Cruel Summer (Marvel's Version) Masterlist |

The full moon hung low in the sky, cascading the entire highway in a bath of moonlight. The sight was breathtaking, and Kate couldn’t decide which view she liked more- you sitting in the passenger seat, or the illuminated landscape before you two.

It had been her idea to leave the city in the dead of night and take a drive until you found a secluded spot for just the two of you. It had come to her when she saw you leaning on the balcony talking to Clint, overlooking the city. The sun was setting, casting a glow around you. You were so pretty, she knew she had to get you by yourself.

You were still in your attire from the charity event earlier, Kate in her sleek black suit, and you in your matching black dress. It was Kate’s favorite dress on you, as it hugged your curves in all her favorite ways. The two of you were still thriving off the energy of the charity event, unable to sleep, which is how the two of you ended up in Kate's car.

You instantly agreed, knowing damn well you’d follow her anywhere she wanted to go- especially in that suit. The way the dark material softened her pale skin made her look incredible. A sight before your eyes.

“Where are we even going?” You asked, a giggle following. If you knew Kate at all, you knew she had a plan. It may have been a loose one, but a plan none-the-less.

“Okay, so I remember seeing this cute little dinner a few towns over on my way back from the last mission, and I just knew I had to take you. So that’s what we're doing, were finding the diner.” Kate responded, looking to you hopeful. You stared at her, before busting out in laughter.

“Kate! It is the middle of the night!”

“It’s open 24 hours!” Kate defended herself, laughing with you.

“Do you remember anything else besides it being a ‘couple towns over’?”

“I remember it was pink and blue, like a ‘50’s themed diner, and that its open 24 hours. That is about it,” Kate responded.

“Alright, mission received, Hawkeye.” You saluted her, and turned your attention to the deserted highway.

There was nothing but trees in either direction, making it difficult to see far off in the distance. That didn’t stop you from trying though. The nearest exit was still five miles away, so you waited patiently for the signs showing local food spots off the exit, while trying to peer through the dark woods blanketing the highway.

Finally, a sign appeared, illuminated under some lights.

MCDONALDS 0.2 mi

DANS DINER o.3 mi

“Oh, look! There’s a dinner off this exit, should we try it?” You said, hopeful.

“Yeah, yeah lets do it!”

As the exit approached, Kate veered off, following the sign until the Diner appeared. It was decorated in browns and gold- clearly decorated by a man without a single interior design bone in his body. Kate grimaced as she looked it over. The parking lot was dark, with only a single, flickering street light on the property. The diner was empty, save for the cook who stared menacingly out the windows. You swallowed a gulp, afraid he’d hear it even through the glass.

“Definitely not this one,” she said, turning the car around.

“Oh, thank god,” you whispered. The diner did not look the friendliest, or the cleanest for that matter.

“There’s definitely at least one family of roaches in there,” you said, earning a laugh from Kate.

“Oh at least, but definitely more.”

The two of you drove for another hour, pulling off at any diner you spotted. None of them were even remotely close, all decorated horribly and didn’t look the least bit appealing. The search was becoming exhausting, and you were starving by this point. You were just about to ask Kate if you could turn back, maybe stop somewhere else, but she suddenly slammed on the breaks.

“Kate! What are you doing, you’re in the middle of the road, you can’t just stop like this!” You yelled, frantically looking behind you to make sure no cars were coming.

“I found it!” She squealed, pointing. Just ahead stood a tall sign, lit with neon that read “Callie’s Diner”. Below, sat a quaint little dinner, brightly lit with multiple guests eating there.

“Oh my god we found it!” You smiled. Your stomach rumbled just then, as if echoing your statement. With that, Kate began driving again, veering off at the exit.

She parked the car in the lot, and the two of you got out. It was just how Kate described it, like a time capsule from the 50’s. The booths were light blue and pink, matching the painted walls. Bright green plants sat in the corners, giving the place a lively feel to it. There was one waitress, who moved around on roller skates between the kitchen and the booths.

“Woah, this is so cool!” You said, as the two of you settled into an empty booth.

“Isn’t it? I knew you’d love it.” Seeing Kate enthusiastic about something she wanted to show you warmed your heart. The simple fact that she saw a place and instantly thought of you was enough to reassure any fears you may have had.

Kate was definitely the greatest thing to ever happen to you, and the feeling was mutual. She loved the way you could light up a room with just your smile, how contagious your laugh was. The way you drummed your fingers against any surface near you when you were bored. She loved every little thing about you, and couldn’t wait to spend the rest of her life with you.

The two of you ordered food and some milkshakes, and scarfed everything down in what should have been a record time. Driving and searching really exasperated the two of you. But no matter how tired or starving the two of you were, you couldn’t help but have fun, just enjoying being in each others company. Kate had stuck her finger in the whip cream of the milkshake, before bopping you on the nose, leaving remnants of whip cream on it. You scoffed, mocking offense, before attempting to do the same thing back. It just ended with Kate getting whip cream in her hair and on her suit- which just led to her laughing even harder.

Kate paid, and tipped the waitress, and the two of you walked back out to the car. It was still dark out, the kind of dark that is seemingly the darkest, just before the sun begins to rise. The parking lot was flooded in light from the street lamp, creating a perfect little haven out in the car. By now, the rest of the lot was empty, save for the employee cars on the side.

“What now?” You asked Kate.

“I have an idea,” Kate smiled sheepishly, before jumping in the backseat. You giggled, knowing exactly where her mind went. The two of you hadn’t had alone time in weeks, since Kate got sent on an extended mission across the country,

Kate folded the seats down with some effort, as the left one always loves to get stuck, and brought you close in her arms. Her soft lips found yours with urgency as she let her hands run all over your body. Your hands made your way into her hair, tugging ever so slightly as she deepened the kiss. A moan reverberated through your body as her tongue danced with yours.

Her hand slipped the straps of your dress off, moving to take it all the way off. A breath hitched in her throat at the lacy garments you wore underneath, anticipating this moment from the moment you got dressed earlier.

“So beautiful,” she whispered, moving to kiss down your neck, and then your chest. Another moan escaped you as you rolled your head back, her teeth nipping gently at your skin. You moved to straddle her lap, while taking her jacket off.

The two of you undressed each other fairly quickly, not wanting to waste a single second. As she tugged your lacy silk underwear to the side, she slipped a finger in between the folds of you, your wet slick coating your fingers.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” Kate praised, as she began to rub you gently. The feeling was euphoric as she worked around your clit, her fingers finding their way inside you. You shuddered out a gasp as she pushed another finger inside.

“Oh god,” you moaned.

“You feel so good,” Kate moaned back, her breath hot against your own. She pushed you down gently, moving slowly as she made her way down your chest, leaving a trail of soft kisses. Her mouth was soft against your skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. A blush crept up on your cheeks. No matter how many times she had seen you like this, you were always nervous.

Sensing your nervousness, she gave your hand a squeeze, before dipping her head between your thighs. The sight itself was almost enough to send you over the edge, as she looked up at you. Her tongue worked its way around your heat, as she lapped you up- the taste of you exquisite against her tongue.

“Oh, god Kate, that feels amazing,” you whispered, reaching out to try and grab anything to cling to. Of course, there was nothing in her car aside from supplies from past missions, so you reached down to grab her hair instead, pulling her even closer to you. She moaned against you, glancing up to see your reaction.

“Fuck, Kate, I’m going to -” You couldn’t finish, as the familiar euphoric feeling rushed over you, your body spasming underneath the grip Ktae had on your waist. She held you down firmly, determined to let you ride your high all the way, until you were left panting and numb on her face.

She grinned as she moved to be above you, kissing you passionately.

“Come back to me, baby,” she whispered, her palm resting softly on your cheek. You leaned into her touch, trying your hardest to smile. Exhaustion overcame you as you laid helplessly beneath her. She grinned, leaning down to kiss your lips once more before putting her shirt back on.

“We will definitely be finishing this in the morning after a good night's sleep,” she said, finding your dress. She helped slip it over your shoulders, and down your body, the ghost of her fingertips sending shivers down your spine.

#kate bishop smut #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop fuff #kate bishop #kate bishop fic #cruel summer project #<33333 #alohastylesx #alohastylesx works #kate bishop fluff #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop fic rec #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x fem!reader #marvel fic #marvel x taylor swift #kate bishop x taylor swift #taylor swift inspired #nonnie baby🦋

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jealousgirlao3 · 7 months

Text

Thinking about how when Greg asks Tom if he’s trying to seduce him, Tom says; “Yes I am,” jokingly at first, then he looks into Greg’s eyes and states: “Yes I am, Greg.”

#nero and sporus #tomgreg #i’d castrate and marry you in a heartbeat #gregory hirsch #tom wambsgans #succession #tomgreg nation arise??#tomgreg fic #tomgreg truthers unite #someone once said tomgreg revolves around tomshiv and i’ve never agreed more #can't make a tomlette without breaking some greggs #could we cruel summer edit our way out of this one? i think not

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cannibalsforbreakfast · 13 days

Text

Cruel Summer - Chapter 1

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: The "Eddie Munson is a speedway racer" high school AU no one asked for, but you're getting it anyways. Enemies to friends to lovers | No-Upsidedown AU | Fast cars, fast times | Reader moved from "the city" to Hawkins

Tags [will be updated as things progress]: swearing, underage drinking, dangerous driving, Jason sucks as usual, mentions of weed, light angst, misunderstandings, reader is afab, not sure if I'll have smut yet or not

A/N: Chapter 1 is already on Ao3 but here's the Tumblr version! New chapters will always be posted on Ao3 first, with a week or so delay to here.

CH1: 3,780w

-- -- --

“Hot summer streets and the pavements are burning, I sit around / Trying to smile, but the air is so heavy and dry”

If anyone had asked, you wouldn’t have said car racing was something you’d be interested in. Watching hunks of metal speeding around in circles always seemed pretty pointless to you. When combined with the auditory chaos of engines and screaming crowds, and nauseating smell of gasoline and burning rubber, it had never been high on your bucket list.

Then again, neither had moving to Hawkins, Indiana. And yet, here you were: stuck in small-town nowhere for (just, you hoped) the summer. But a summer practically felt like forever to you.

And so you were at the speedway car races with your cousin, Robin. Because apparently, she said, it would “be fun” and “social” and “lots of people went.”

You supposed you should be lucky Robin was pretty chill about hanging out with you. After all, having your city-slicker cousin practically dumped on your doorstep without so much as a “by your leave” by your parents — who had gone off to “rediscover themselves” and hopefully salvage five years of impending divorce — probably wasn’t high on HER bucket list, either. She and her parents had been more than welcoming, sticking you and your five overstuffed suitcases in the spare room on the second floor, just next door to Robin, without hesitation and urging you to make yourself at home.

If you saw Robin and her parents exchange some pointed and pitying glances, well, you’d just try and ignore them. Because they were right. Your parents clearly didn’t care enough about you to take you with them on their wild second-honeymoon or whatever, so they’d abandoned you without looking back, saying they’d pick you up in a couple months before school started up again. They thought. Maybe homeschooling had been implied as a possibility if they happened to return a bit later than assumed from…Panama? Costa Rica? Whatever warm, probably tropical, place they’d gone to. Without their only daughter.

Honestly, sometimes you just felt the truth of it in your bones when, at the height of their marital Cold War, they’d each called the other some variant of “frigid bitch.” Only the coldest of the cold would up and abandon their offspring like that, without any evident desire to really take responsibility for them ever again. If you just wandered off at the end of the summer, got a job waiting tables in the nearest big city, didn’t bother to send a forwarding address, you didn’t think they’d be too fussed. Depressing.

The frozen atmosphere at home had gone on so long, you’d practically adopted aloofness yourself as a survival mode. What you didn’t feel, couldn’t hurt. Didn’t help you with making any friends once you’d entered high school, but it kept anyone from really bothering you for three years. The summer before your senior year was supposed to be this golden eternity of afternoons at the pool, perfecting your tan, or giggling at the local mall while licking ice creams and debating who-liked-who-liked-who.

Not wasting away in Hawkins, a town small enough you bet you could count all of the stoplights on one hand.

You missed the city so much it ached . Missed the dizzying heights of the buildings towering above you, missed the way the very air seemed to thrum with an energy, a beat that got into your pulse and made you feel alive. Missed the hole-in-the-wall restaurants on every street and the used bookstores piled high with more volumes than you could read in a lifetime. Hawkins was…quaint, but inside you worried if you stayed here long enough it would drain the life out of you until you couldn’t make it anywhere else.

Not that you’d say any of that to Robin, who was babbling cheerfully away at your side as you strolled up to the local speedway just out of town. She was wearing a loose striped men’s shirt with the cuffs rolled up and jeans, despite the lingering heat of the evening. Robin, you’d come to learn, was pretty much always babbling about something or another, a natural condition that tended to get even worse whenever she was flustered or nervous. Given your tendency to listen, rather than speak, you actually balanced each other out rather well. With her, surprisingly, you felt you could be…yourself…that little bit more. Felt a bit of that icy shell melt away.

You tuned back in to hear her say, “We’re going to meet up with Steve, he’s gotten there early to stake us out a spot. You wouldn’t think it but it can get really crowded and picking the right spot out of the sun and the dust and on the right side of the track is, like, crucial to the enjoyment factor. Steve’s a boy, by the way. He’s not my boyfriend – well, he’s a boy who’s a friend, but we’re not like that, actually he’s more like an annoying brother. But he’s not annoying, I promise!”

You smiled to yourself as Robin rambled on. Truly, you found it more endearing than not.

“I’m sure he’s nice,” you said, cutting in so Robin could actually take a full breath. She smiled back at you.

“Yeah, he’s great. But don’t tell him I said that, I swear his hair grows an inch every time someone says something nice about him.”

You smiled and promised that, of course, you wouldn’t breathe a word.

The two of you step up to the bored-looking teenager taking tickets, and you passed over your paper stub, slightly sweaty from being clutched in your hand. Stepping through the entrance gate, you’re immediately assaulted with the smell of deep-fried foods mixed with beer, the raucous laughter of crowds of families and teens here for an evening out. A fine dust permeated the air, making your eyes water. The track, a packed dirt oval that was both bigger and smaller than you imagined, spread out before you, bordered by some haphazardly stacked rectangle bales of hay you assumed were there for the “safety” of the crowd, though they looked anything but. You imagined any car crashing into those at serious speed would take them out easily…as well as the onlookers setting up their camp chairs frighteningly close to the barrier.

Across the track, a small elevated building rigged with wires and a mounted loudspeaker was clearly where the announcers were situated. Tinny commentary was blaring from the PA system, but it was almost impossible to hear above the general din.

There were mullets and wife-beaters on display everywhere. As you looked around, you noted that everyone – and you mean everyone – seemed to be dressed in nothing more formal than jeans and a shirt. You hadn’t batted an eye when Robin left the house like that, because that’s what your cousin always wore. And she’d told you to dress casual but…

“Robin,” you asked, “am I overdressed?”

She’d been herding you along the track toward one end, but at your question she glanced over at you and winced, which you supposed was answer enough.

“Robinnnnn,” you whined.

“What?” she protested. “I said ‘casual,’ that’s what you came out in, so I figured it was fine!”

Up until you saw the sea of daisy dukes before you, you’d thought what you were wearing was casual. It certainly was back in the city. The simple, white-and-red polkadot dress you were wearing, cinched at the waist with a plain wide belt you’d dug out the bottom of your suitcase, cute frilly sleeves sitting just below your tanned shoulders, wouldn’t have been anything your classmates back home blinked at. You hadn’t even done your makeup, besides a swipe of lip gloss! But you were rapidly getting the sense you’d have to redefine your expectations here in Hawkins. And with the swirls of rust-colored dust almost constantly permeating the air, you could already tell white was a particularly bad choice.

Oh well, you’d just have to make the best of it. And get the dress in the wash sooner rather than later.

“It’s alright, Robin,” you reassured your cousin, who’d been worrying at her lip while you thought. “It’s just a dress. Plus, it’s not like I’ll be in any of the cars,” you joked.

“Steve’ll probably have a blanket or something you can use anyways,” she said. “He’s a dad like that. Oh look, there he is. Steve! Steeeeve! Ugh, he isn’t listening. OI, DINGUS!”

Robin waved frantically at a boy a bit ahead of you, who’d staked out a pretty prime spot on the hillside around the middle of the straightaway, complete with camping chairs, picnic blanket and cooler of what you desperately hoped was something cold. Now this is what you’d imagined when Robin said “races.” And it was comfortingly far away from the hay barrier.

The boy – Steve – raked his hands through his already artfully disheveled mop of hair and rolled his eyes at Robin.

“Could you shout any louder?” he grumbled. “Jesus, I think the whole crowd heard you.”

“Oh don’t be such a wuss. Hey, this is my cousin. She’s cool. Cousin, meet Steve. He’s a dweeb.”

“A dweeb with charm, also known as the best kind,” Steve said with a smile, reaching out to shake your hand. “I heard you’re in town for the summer. Welcome to Hawkins – guessing it’s a pretty big change from where you’re from.”

“Um, yeah, wasn’t sure what to expect, but it’s better than I thought. Lots of nice people,” you offered him a small smile in return, a bit taken aback by the easy way he folded you into the dynamic.

“I’ll bet,” he agreed. “First time at a speedway?”

“First time at any kind of races,” you admitted. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Not much too it really,” Robin said around a mouthful of beer. Clearly, she’d helped herself to Steve’s stash, but by the way he just shook his head, you got the sense this was basically normal. He silently offered you a bottle, but you shook your head – maybe in a bit. Steve did seem nice, but you weren’t quite ready to be under the influence under someone new just yet. Robin kept talking: “Cars go zoom zoom, and the one that goes zoom zoom the fastest wins. We mostly just come here to support Eddie.”

You cocked your head. “Who’s Eddie?”

“Friend from school. He’s been working extra shifts all summer, which is why you haven’t met him yet. He works down at the local body shop, races on the side. We’ll point his car out when he’s up.”

You nodded, sure he’d be nice too, if Robin’s taste in friends so far was anything to go by.

The three of you sat, chatting amiably for a few minutes, and you felt yourself relaxing into Robin and Steve’s easy, familiar banter. They traded well-worn jabs back and forth, but there’s no heat behind them. You settled yourself on the blanket between them, tucking your skirt beneath your legs and mostly enjoying the vibe, only chiming in when you had something to say, like when Steve started to say “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” was supposedly underrated (he was wrong, and both you and Robin soundly told him so).

As the sun finally started to go down – days were still long and hot, and all three of you were peevishly slapping at overly familiar mosquitos – the track lights finally flickered into life and it seemed like things were about to start. Robin let out a squeal, wiggling her knees in excitement.

You were all ready for – you didn’t know, monster trucks or something? – when, to your surprise, the first line of cars that raced onto the track looked more like glorified go karts than anything else. Seeing your confusion, Steve leaned over and murmured, “They do the kiddie stuff first,” and you then saw that the drivers did seem awfully young. Fortunately they were wearing helmets.

The announcer counted down the start, and at the waving of the first green flag they tore around the track, kicking up immense clouds of gasoline-scented dust that settled over everything – your hair, your clothes, you could even see it coating the fine hairs on your arm. Gross.

And these little kids were vicious. Not crashing directly into each other, but drifting aggressively around the turns and cutting each other off within what looked like inches to spare between bumpers. Everyone was cheering on individual numbers, and you, Steve and Robin got into it by picking your favorite car and rooting for them at the top of your lungs. After a few heats you felt your throat dry up, and gratefully accepted one of the cooling bottles of beer Steve offered.

Beer with friends on a Friday night. Weirdly, this felt more like how you thought summer was supposed to go than you figured you’d get in Hawkins. Or anywhere.

As the night wore on, the races of the small and mid-sized cars started to blur into each other, and you started idly wondering when you’d be able to go home. Well. To Robin’s home.

“And nowwwww, the event you’ve all been waiting forrrrr!” shrilled the announcer.

From the back paddock where all the cars were parked, there came a grunty rumble. A vibration that made its way into your bones, your veins, the thump-thump of your heart. This was the rhythm you’d been missing, filling you up from the inside out.

And then, the first line of proper-sized cars ripped their way onto the track, to a massive cheer from the crowd. But you weren’t even sure you could call them “cars.” Dinged, dented, and beaten back into shape, these were machines reduced to the essence of speed. Any extra baggage had clearly been ripped out – seats, radio, even the entire bottom half of the trunk was gone. What was left was the engines, the driver’s seat, and anything essential to make them go.

They ran a few menacing laps around the track, jostling for position on the grid.

“Look, there’s Eddie!” Robin pointed.

“Which one is he?” you asked.

“The black one, with the red bat on the hood.”

“Eddie’s always had a flair for the dramatic,” Steve clarified.

Your eyes traced the black car as Eddie maneuvered it into the inside of the track, on the front row – “That’s a good position,” Steve clarified again. Unlike most of the other cars, which had paint jobs in varying states of peeling off, Eddie clearly kept his car freshly painted despite the risk of damage – it gleamed, pitch blank, with just the blood red of the bat leaping out of the design. From what you could see of Eddie, as he was mostly shielded by a helmet, he was also in all black.

“I’m sensing a theme,” you muttered dryly.

Like horses jostling for position, the cars – there must have been a dozen or so – revved their engines just behind the starting line. There was an agonizing moment of tension, where everyone stared at the red stoplight holding them in place.

Then it winked green, the flag was waved, and the race began.

You watched as Eddie’s car and the one on his right, painted a chipped red-white-and-blue roared to the front like bats of out hell. They gunned it down the straightaway before whipping into a drift around the curve that was so aggressive, their cars yawing onto two wheels so hard, your hands flew to your mouth to swallow a gasp despite yourself, sure they’d tip over or spin out. Magically Eddie’s car righted itself as he came out of the turn and he gunned it down the next straight, neck and neck with the other vehicle.

The laps went by in what felt to you like seconds, a frenetic dance conducted at speed. With the razor-thin margins the two cars took the turns, you knew that if Eddie lost concentration for a nanosecond, he’d be out of the race. You blinked dust out of your eyes furiously, loath to miss a single second. Next to you, Robin and Steve were yelling – you were pretty sure Robin was just repeating profanities at this point – but you could hardly make yourself breathe normally, let alone cheer.

There were only a few laps to go and the other car had stolen the lead from Eddie. Though Eddie was keeping the black monstrosity right on his tail, pushing himself right into the rear bumper to try and throw the other driver off.

They made another sharp drift around a corner and, as they came off the curve, Eddie made his move, pushing the throttle to take his car around the outside of the red-and-white leader. He took the turn, hard, trying to get his nose in front of the other car’s, and this time you did let out a whimper of concern. Your heart thumped in time with the roar of the crowd, and when Eddie made it, slipping in front of his rival to cross the finish line first, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

Steve and Robin were now jumping up and down and hugging each other, and you smiled at their infectious joy.

The other cars coasted to a stop in the middle of the track while Eddie took his victory lap, waving the checkered flag from out the driver’s window. He must have spotted the two maniacs next to you, because the car rolled to a stop on the track in front of you, and Eddie stepped out from the car.

You knew he drove like a devil, but you weren’t expecting him to look like a fallen angel.

A strange shiver ran through you as you watched him pull off his black helmet. Long, dark curls spilled out, framing his sharp, sculpted face. Even with his bangs sweat-soaked and disheveled, he was capital H-O-T. Dark hair, dark eyes, with a plush mouth you knew was made for sin. He was everything your parents would have warned you away from, and everything you – or your body, at least – immediately wanted.

“Be normal,” you thought to yourself. “This is Robin’s friend .”

Robin and Steve trotted down to the side of the track, and you trailed behind them, a little unsure. It was the last race of the evening, and with the entertainment over, the crowds were starting to melt away. It didn’t escape your notice that while all the other drivers were getting handshakes and back-slaps galore from their fellow racers and even some officials, no one had come over to congratulate the actual winner, Eddie, except for the three of you.

“Edieeeeee, you won!” Robin shrieked at her usual top-volume. “But also, ugh, you smell like fumes, ew no, don’t hug me.” She wiggled away from his playful attempt at a hug, wrinkling your nose.

“Comes with the territory, Robin, you’re just gonna have to get used to it. You certainly don’t mind when I’m fixing your car for free, again . Hey, Steve, nice of the King to make an appearance.” The two boys traded fist bumps, Steve rolling his eyes at his high school nickname. You broke into a wide smile at their antics.

Eddie’s eyes met yours, where you lingered behind, and he arched one eyebrow, his previously warm and open expression becoming more guarded, scanning you from the top of your windswept hair to the bottom of your now quite dusty flats. Your smile faded, and you resisted the urge to brush yourself off in the face of his gaze.

“Who’s this?” he asked. “Wasn’t aware we had a third cheerleader on the squad. Does little miss Dots like what she has to see so far?”

You find yourself bristling at his presumptuous tone. “I don’t quite take your meaning,” you respond stiffly.

Eddie laughed, an open, easy sound you could have loved – except for the sharp edge to his voice. He straddled the hay bale, spreading his hands open. You tried not to look at how his black racing uniform stretched tight over his thighs. Really, you tried.

“Come on, guys, this is a joke, right? Ha, ha, Eddie’s first race of the season, let’s get a cute little cupcake of a girl to come along, flirt a little, string lil ’ol Eddie along? Give the girl a ride to remember?”

He fixed his molten brown eyes on you. “Did someone put you up to it, Dots? Patrick? Jason? It’s the sort of shit thing Jason would do.”

By this point, both Steve and Robin were exchanging a confused glance that clearly conveyed their shared sense of, “uh, what?” But you knew exactly what.

Eddie had taken one look at you – at your too-much dress, too-much smile, maybe something else you didn’t even know in your demeanor – and concluded that the only possible explanation for your presence was that you were a…paid escort? Hooker? Someone bribed to come watch his race and flutter your eyelashes at him, spread her legs?

You felt the usual protection of your ice queen reputation from back home freezing off any earlier warmth from your expression.

“Someone clearly has a high opinion of himself. I’m not going to cream just because you’ve got half skills with half a car. Get over yourself. Robin,” you turn to your cousin, “I’m going back to the house.”

“It’s miles to the house,” Robin protested, nervous gaze flicking between you – fuming – and Eddie – nonchalantly picking at his cuticles, not sparing you another glance.

“I’ll walk.” It was only a mile or so to Robin’s, and you didn’t want to spend a single second more in his company, friends with your cousin or not. Eddie’d done a spectacular job of reminding you why you usually didn’t do things that were “fun” or “social” or that “lots of people” went to. You didn’t need another asshole man in your life, your father was doing a bang-up job of that by himself.

“I’d give you a ride, Dots, but as you can see,” Eddie gestured to the literally empty passenger seat in the stock car next to him, “I can’t.”

“Fuck you,” you hissed, whirling around and stomping off before reaching a hand up to swipe angrily at the tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

You heard Robin run after you. “She’s my cousin you MORON,” she called back to Eddie. When she caught up to you, you gave her a watery smile in thanks, and she reached over to squeeze your shoulders.

New item for your summer bucket list: Never, ever see Eddie again.

-- -- --

NEXT TIME: You and Robin go to a party.

#cruel summer #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #fanfic #fanfiction #eddie munson fic #enemies to friends to lovers #speedway au

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blairrwaldorfs · 30 days

Text

Cruel Summer

Aaron Warner x Fem!Reader

Author's Note: Okay, it's long, I know! I'm sorry. I keep yapping and yapping in this chapter. Anyway, there's a full on detailed smut in here so please take this as a warning. Anyway, this is the only fic I'm uploading this week because I'm going to be in Vegas. I'll be accepting requests in my box, while I'm gone. I'll be preparing two one shot fics when I come back. So, enjoy this for now! :)

Disclaimer: 18+, mention of violence, smut, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 6.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

You fluttered your eyes open and slowly adjusted your vision. You heard the soft patter of the rain outside and watched the raindrops slide down the window. The blue hue that blanketed outside meant the day was slowly starting. Your eyes shifted at the clock on the bedside table and saw that it was 5am. You knew you had to go. You were already an hour late, and Kenji was probably worrying about you already. Worse, he was probably irritated over the fact that you were late again.

However, you didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to go anywhere else. You just wanted to stay here. You and Warner had a long night last night, looking through all the documents again and still found nothing. It was the same every night. Just no evidence at all. Sometimes you both felt like giving up, but you both knew there was a missing piece of the puzzle that you both couldn’t seem to find.

Feeling the bed move, you felt Warner’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to his body. Your back pressed against his chest, and a soft approving hum escaped his lips as he buried his face on your hair. You looked over your shoulder and smiled before softly rubbing his arm that was around you.

He was warm and his skin was soft.

It made you feel safe.

“I have to go.” You whispered.

You felt Warner’s arm tightened around you. You chuckled softly and turned your body around to face him. He only pulled you closer in his arms. Your index finger softly poked his nose, and he gave you a sleepy sleepy smile. His eyes were still closed as you studied his facial features in front of you.

Beautiful. You couldn’t help but think.

So beautiful.

“Kenji is going to be furious.” You added.

Warner exhaled a deep breath before opening his eyes slowly. His green eyes stared at you as you tried poking his nose again. He tried to bite your finger, but you pulled it away just in time, making you giggle softly.

“You’re always worrying about Kenji, love.” His voice was tired and husky.

“He always covers for me and if Castle and my parents ever find out where I am, I don’t want him getting in trouble.”

Warner didn’t say a word as he pulled you in his arms tighter, your face pressed against his chest, and he tucked your head under his chin.

“Stay for a little longer.” Warner murmured.

If it was up to you, you would stay here forever with him. You didn’t know exactly what kind of relationship this was between the two of you but the more you spent time with him, you knew you were falling for him even more. You didn’t know what Warner felt about you. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was just a physical relationship to him. You wondered if he ever decided that he was tired of you, he would just leave. The thought of him leaving you made a knot in your stomach as you reminded yourself to not give in to your emotions. You knew falling for him would break you into a million pieces, and you already have risked a lot by sneaking out every night with him.

But it was worth it, right?

As the question lingered in your mind, you realized you didn’t even know the real answer to that question. This could just be a physical thing and you were risking everything just for a little summer hook up? Slightly pulling away from him, you gave him a small smile, pressed a soft kiss on his cheek before sliding yourself away from his arms. You picked up your clothes from the floor and put them on and when you turned around, you saw Warner watching you the whole time. A small smile tugging on his lips.

“What?” You asked.

Warner got up from the bed, put on his pants and walked around the bed before wrapping his arms around your waist. His emerald eyes studied you carefully. You felt the blood rushed to your cheeks as he studied each of your features and his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin gently.

“I can’t get over how stunning you are.” Warner whispered.

You felt your limbs almost giving out, the wind almost knocking out the oxygen in your lungs as you wrapped your arms around his waist. A whine caught in Warner’s throat as you left kisses on his bare chest. You looked up at him with half lidded eyes as he closed his green ones. You could feel the heat radiating between the two of you, and you couldn’t help but wonder just for a moment…

One moment.

Maybe all of this was worth it.

“Please…” Warner breathed heavily, his eyes fluttering open so carefully. “Don’t leave so soon.”

“I have to.” You finally pulled away but Warner pulled you back in his arms, his face nuzzling your neck.

“Okay, but I’ll see you tonight?” He murmured.

“Of course.” You grinned before finally pulling away completely from his arms.

You felt the hole in your chest as soon as you left the cabin. Warner’s absence made you feel empty. He was like a missing piece of puzzle in your life that you couldn’t seem to understand. He fits perfectly but somehow, whenever he wasn’t around, you felt that hollow emptiness inside of you.

As you carefully walked back to the base and shook out the thoughts from your mind, you held your knife tightly in your hand, ready to attack just in case. The walk back to the base was always hard, you could always feel yourself getting anxious that you might get caught but so far, you were okay.

You hoped.

“You know, one of these days, I don’t know what I’ll have to tell them.” Kenji said as soon as you arrived back at the base.

“It’s fine, Kenji. I will take the blame, I promise.” You said, entering your room. “I won’t let them get you in trouble for my mistakes.”

You sighed and flopped yourself at the edge of the bed. Kenji closed the door behind him and saw the melancholy in your eyes. He walked up and sat next to you. For a moment, there was a comfortable silence in the room and then you sighed and laid on your back, staring at the ceiling.

“What happened?” Kenji asked.

“Am I insane?” You asked, running your hands through your long hair. “I know this all started because I want to make sure Omega Point takes down The Reestablishment but how come…”

You shook your head, a heavy breath escaping from you. You closed your eyes and Kenji looked over his shoulder and studied your expression. Kenji technically didn’t really understand your feelings towards Warner. He didn’t understand why you would sneak out every night to see him even if you had mentioned that what you and Warner have was just a physical relationship. That you both probably just got too lonely in that cabin.

“You love him.” Kenji muttered.

Those three little words made your body stiff. You couldn’t move, your cheeks flushed as you stared at the ceiling. It was just a simple three little words, so how come it was making you feel like this? How could those three little words inject so much emotion through your veins? It was almost like a drug that made your head spin. The thought of Warner made everything spin.

“What?” You were finally able to move your body as you sat up. “No, I don’t.”

Kenji tilted his head and raised his brow at you. He wasn’t stupid. He was your best friend, and you have known him for years. He could tell when you were lying. You may be saying that, but your eyes were saying something else.

“If you say so, Princess. I, too, would be risking everything for someone that I’m not in love with.” A hint of sarcasm was in his voice.

Your face flushed even more. You bit your lower lip and sighed, laying on your bed again and grabbed your pillow, burying your face on it. Kenji chuckled softly and patted your knee before getting up.

“C’mon, Princess. We have lots to do today.” Kenji said.

“I’ll be there in a sec.” You murmured through your pillow.

“Okay, well, hurry up before Castle thinks there’s something wrong.”

You heard your door open and closed as Kenji walked out of your room, leaving you in your own thoughts. After a few minutes, you finally got up, changed into some fresh training clothes and met Kenji at the training room. The two of you had been training to fight. Castle had suggested for you two to learn just in case it would be needed in the future. That whole idea got your mind pinwheeling again, wondering if Castle and your parents knew something that they weren’t telling everyone else. You even noticed that Sonya and Sara had been spending too much time in their laboratory. You wonder what kind of medicine the twins have been trying to prepare for all of you.

“Do you know what’s going on?” You asked Kenji later that day.

“What do you mean?” Kenji was lifting some weights as you stood on the corner, watching him.

You were taking a break after finishing cardio, and you were sort of feeling lazy to do weights today. Setting the weight down, Kenji sat up and took a big gulp of his water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You know…” You shrugged. “What Castle and my parents are planning. I mean… It’s sort of obvious there’s something. You and me training? The twins stuck in their lab? They must be creating some type of medicine for everyone.”

“Sonya and Sara are always trying to create some type of medicine.” Kenji said, nonchalant.

“But no, Princess. Castle hasn’t told me anything. What about you and Warner? Besides the constant sex…anything?”

You threw your towel at him and rolled your eyes so hard, it almost fell off your head. “No, he can’t find a real record of why those kids are disappearing. There’s one thing though… they’re put in some kind of asylum? Some kind of prison?”

“Where’s the prison?”

You tilted your head, giving him a glare. “You really think I would withhold that information from you if I knew?”

“Maybe Warner knows.”

“No, he doesn’t.” You answered that too quickly and confidently.

A playful smile tugged on Kenji’s face as he started lifting weights again. You sat on the mat and sighed, your head hung low as you played with your fingers. You couldn’t get the thought of Warner out of your mind. You kept asking many questions that you didn’t have the answers to.

“You know, Princess.” Kenji said, sitting up again. “Sometimes it’s better not to overthink too much. You will make yourself crazy.”

“Yeah.” That was all you could manage before getting up from the mat and started weight lifting with Kenji.

The rest of the day was slow. You had taken a nap right after training. You were so exhausted that Kenji had to come knocking on your door to wake you up when it was time for dinner. However, you couldn’t manage to get up from your bed and eat dinner with everyone else. You couldn’t seem to face everyone and act like you haven’t been sneaking out every night and seeing Warner—the one person they probably thought was their number one enemy. You couldn’t face them and act like you haven’t been fucking their enemy.

You knew they would never understand.

So, you sneaked out of the base a little early. Kenji was going to be furious at you, but you needed to get out of there. Sometimes it felt suffocating just to be stuck at the base doing training and preparing to take down The Reestablishment. Sometimes you just need a different environment.

Your hand was in your jacket pocket as you walked towards the forest. You held the knife tightly inside your pocket, prepared for anything that could come up behind you. As you gazed up at the sky, you noticed that you could actually see the moon tonight. Sometimes the sky was so cloudy or was covered with a thick fog that you could barely see it.

Tonight though, it was bright and big.

You couldn’t help but stand on the front porch of the cabin and stared at it for a moment. It was a reminder that this world used to be so beautiful, so enchanting. Now, it was all left in ruins, and it was just the moon that was left that could remind you that there was still so much out there. So much you didn’t know and haven't seen. You wondered if anyone out there was looking at it too and thinking about the same thing. You wondered if people out there missed how this world used to be.

Were you ever going to see the other continents out there? Were they suffering the same as everyone was here in Sector 45 and North America? Was this going to be forever? How will Castle and your parents manage to rebuild everything if they were successful with their plan?

“Hey, love.”

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the cabin door creaked and opened. Looking over your shoulder was Warner standing in front of you, his hand held out for you. You couldn’t understand how he managed to look so beautiful all the time even with just the light inside the cabin illuminating from behind him. Every time you looked at him, he was so gorgeous. So beautiful. You couldn’t find the right words to really describe him because there were moments where you wonder if he was even real.

The heavy feeling that you were feeling in your stomach immediately faded as your hand touched his. He always managed to make your insides calm and peaceful. Just one touch. One kiss. All your fears would perish.

“What are you doing out here, love? It’s dangerous.” Warner whispered, pulling you into the cabin.

“I was admiring the moon.” You said. “We barely see it these days.”

You didn’t notice it then when you were outside because it was so dark but now that the soft light from the lamps that illuminated the cabin surrounded you, you noticed something in Warner’s eyes.

Fear.

“What is it?” You asked.

“I think my father is hiding something from me… besides the missing children.” Warner heavily sighed, walking closer to you.

“Why do you think that?”

“I mean, I’m not surprised that he is hiding something, but it’s the thought of him knowing about you.”

Warner’s concern for you made your heart swell a little bit. You saw the terror in his eyes as he gently brushed your hair away from your shoulder before cupping your face in his hands. His eyes stared deep into yours, his face inches away. Suddenly, the clock stopped. Your pulse was wild. Butterflies invaded your veins as he gently brushed his thumb on your cheek. You kept reminding yourself that this was just a physical relationship but how come, it felt like it was something else?

Something more.

“I’m—I’m fine.” You tried to find your voice. “I’m okay.”

“You don’t know the capability my father has,” Warner said. “If… he takes you away from me…”

He shook his head repeatedly, his eyes closing like he was in pain. Like he could feel the pain in his core from the image of you being taken away from him.

“Warner, I’m okay. I promise.” You reassured him. “No one followed me here.”

“I know, love.” He murmured. "I know you're always careful."

You reached your hand to touch his cheek gently, his face leaning against your touch. His chest was heaving as he pulled you in his arms for a tight embrace. You have never seen Warner like this before. The terror in his eyes and the way he held you. It was almost like if he would let you go right now, he would lose you forever, and you didn’t like that. You didn’t like how he was this terrified because you were okay.

Everything was fine.

You didn’t want him to worry about you at all.

“Do you want to go see the moon?” You asked, trying to make the subject lighter. Your cheek was pressed against his chest, and your arms were wrapped around his waist tightly.

“It’s gorgeous tonight.” You added, lifting your head up to look at him.

A soft approval hum escaped him as he buried his face on your neck, a soft kiss planted on your skin. His hands gripped your hips tightly, pressing your body against his. Then, his hand slipped under your shirt, caressing your sides softly and feeling your heated skin under his touch.

“Lift your arms up.” He whispered in your ear, kissing the line of your jaw.

You did what he told you to do as he pulled your shirt over your head and found its home on the wooden floor of the cabin. His hands roamed your body from your sides to your back and then, he found the hook of your bra.

“Take it off.” You whispered, kissing him deeply.

And just like that, your bra had joined your shirt on the floor. Your fingers fumbled on the buttons of his shirt and slipped them off his broad shoulders. Your hands studied every inch of his heated skin, sliding them on his chest, down the curves and valleys of his muscles on his stomach and then, you slid them on his back. You felt him slightly flinch under your touch, and you immediately pulled away.

“Sorry.” You breathlessly pulled away from the kiss.

Warner shook his head, gazing down at you. His eyes were dark and full of desire.

“Don’t apologize.” He said. “I’m just not used to it. I… I want you to be able to touch me with no limits.”

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You could never.” He murmured before pulling you in his arms again.

This time, he scooped you up and carried you towards the back door of the cabin. There, the moon illuminated the lake, and it looked so magical. Almost too unreal that the water was still fresh and untouched unlike the rest of the world around you. Warner smiled, setting you down in the water, making you shiver slightly from the cold soft breeze that was hitting your skin. Under the moonlight, Warner’s eyes glimmered. It made him even more beautiful through your eyes.

“I have never felt this much peace before.” Warner said, his hands finding your waist. “You’re the only one that understands me. I know I’m someone who really doesn’t know how to communicate well but with you, I feel… different.”

“Warner.” You whispered, your hands sliding up his chest.

“No,” He said. “It’s Aaron. I want you to call me by my name.”

“Aaron.” You whispered.

A smile lit up his face, dimples indenting his cheeks as he brushed your hair back, leaning down to press a soft kiss on the blade of your shoulder. You breathlessly gasp as you slide your hand at the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. Feeling his skin with yours was the kind of connection that you never had before. It made you feel closer to him.

“I love that.” He said.

Then, his green eyes went soft. His eyes studied your features, his whole expression turned into something so peaceful. You have never seen it before as he cupped your face between his hands. You gazed up at him, feeling your heart beating right out of your chest. There was something about the look on his face that made you nervous. Made you forget about the world around you and made you forget the running thoughts that have been occupying your mind lately.

“I love you.” He whispered, his voice full of emotion.

You heard yourself let out a gasp. Your limbs were petrified, and you couldn’t move an inch. Warner—Aaron just told you he loved you. You had to blink your eyes a few times to make sure that you weren’t dreaming. That you heard him correctly. You didn’t know how long you were paralyzed like that until you had noticed his soft eyes turned into worried ones.

“Love?” He murmured, brushing your cheek with his fingers.

“Aaron, I—”

“I mean it, love.” He breathed heavily, his whole face was full of emotion for you.

Then, he said the words again, carefully and word by word. “I love you.”

When you were finally able to feel your muscles move, you pulled away from him. You found everything so dizzying. It was happening so fast that you could barely find your footing as soon as you found yourself back on the rocky ground. Grabbing the towel, you wrapped it around your body as Aaron followed right behind you. Your back was turned to him, and you stared up at the night sky, holding in your tears that were welling up in your eyes. This was something you have been thinking about. Something that you wanted, but you were also too terrified that this was not going to work out.

Everything was too complicated.

Too dangerous.

“Love, I could feel your emotions towards me.” He said, carefully taking your hand in his and turning you to face him.

You could barely find time to get some air in your lungs when Aaron held you in his arms again. Every part of you was slowly cracking into pieces. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t adjust your vision clearly, and you wondered if this was it. You wondered if you were slowly dying, and if this was what it felt like to die. You stood in front of Aaron, you felt his embrace in yours, but your soul was suspended in the air. You were looking down at this moment from above, and you kept telling yourself to move.

To say something.

Anything.

You told yourself to go back down into your body.

“Aaron,” You finally were able to manage to find your voice.

“I know how you feel about me. How much you love and want me. I could feel that in every bone of my body, love. I could feel everything that you feel about me. Your fears, your love for me… The way you want me like the way I want you too.”

Your heart has fallen to the ground.

You couldn’t find the bandwidth to take in anymore of his words because if you heard one more word from him, you were sure you would completely break into pieces. You would collapse right here in front of him. Aaron took a step back from you, both his hands rubbing both of your arms softly. He could feel your body shiver from under his touch.

“Let’s go inside. You’re cold, love.” He said, wrapping his arm around you.

As soon as you arrived back inside, you picked up your clothes and slipped them on. Aaron slipped on his pants before wrapping a blanket around your shoulders to keep you warm. He could see you shivering from the cold, and you weren’t really sure if it was because of the cold or because of what just happened.

“Love—”

You shook your head, holding up one hand to stop him from continuing. You stood there and stared at him for a moment. He was in his grey sweatpants, no shirt on, and his eyes were staring into yours. Your lips trembled as you played with your fingers nervously. You could see the hesitation in Aaron’s eyes as he slowly and carefully took a step towards you.

“I… thought…” Aaron murmured. “...we have something.”

“We do.” You answered him too quickly. “Do you know how long I have been dreaming of this moment?”

You saw Aaron’s tensed shoulders dropped, his jaw unclenching as he crossed the room and cupped your face. His eyes were full of different emotions and as you whispered his name, he kissed you so softly. So soft and gentle and at the same time, it was desperate and hungry. You have been wanting this. You have been dreaming of this, and it was here. It was happening in front of your eyes. It was happening so fast, and everything was spinning.

Your legs were almost giving out, but Aaron was quick to catch you in his arms and pinned you against the wall. You couldn’t remember when the blanket had found its way to the floor, but you didn’t care. You only cared about this moment. A breathless gasp escaped from him as he parted from the kiss, pressed his forehead against yours and smiled.

“Aaron, I’m scared.” You whispered. “I’m so scared.”

“I’ll protect you with my life, love.” He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I can handle myself, you know?”

Aaron’s smile grew wider, his fingers softly stroking your cheek. “I know that. I know how strong you are, and I know how smart you are but that doesn’t mean I won’t do everything to make sure you’re safe.”

You exhaled a sharp breath, your arms wrapping around his neck. “We’re gonna die.”

“Let all hell break loose then.” He said before pressing your body against his and kissed you deeply.

You ran your fingers through his golden hair as Aaron tugged on your shirt lightly. Pulling it over your head, he pressed soft kisses on your neck. You threw your head back against the wall, closing your eyes as you felt your skin caught on fire from every spot that he kissed. A moan was caught in your throat as Aaron smiled through the kiss and trailed his lips down your collarbone. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as he slipped his hands under your thighs and lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his hips.

“God,” He whispered. “You’re so beautiful. So gorgeous.”

You felt your cheeks flushed as Aaron carried you towards the bedroom and set you down gently on the bed. He used his inner thigh to part your legs and set his knee between them, towering over you and leaning down to kiss you passionately. You could feel the heat that was washing over his body as you let your hands roam on his bare skin. Your lips were caught on his jawline and down his neck as Aaron breathed heavily, his fingers tangled through your hair. He pulled you close as you continued to kiss down his bare chest, your hands softly roaming the sharp muscles of his arms.

“Aaron…” You whispered, pulling away. “I love you.”

Something sparkled in Aaron’s eyes as soon as he heard those words from your lips. His hand slipped at the back of your head and kissed you deeply.

A soft moan escaped from you, and you felt his fingers tugging on your pants.

“Please… take them off.” You begged.

In one smooth motion, Aaron’s hands found the waistband of your pants and immediately pulled them down together with your underwear. You have been naked in front of him many times. Almost every night. But this time, it felt different. Like this was the first time you were intimate with him in a different way. Back then, you could care less how you would look in front of him but this time, you didn’t know why, but you sort of felt insecure. As if he was seeing the real you for the first time.

You felt your cheeks flushed along with the rest of your body as Aaron’s eyes studied every inch of you. It made you feel vulnerable, and you carefully covered your chest with your arms, looking away from him.

“Hey,” He smiled, gently taking your arms away from your chest. “Don’t hide from me, love. You’re so beautiful.”

You gazed up at him with half lidded eyes before you felt his lips kiss your chest. You bit your lower lip as he squeezed your breast softly with his hand, his mouth sucking on the other one that made you moan loudly. Your fingers had found his hair again as you arched your back, while his lips trailed down your stomach. Soft and gentle kisses covered your skin, his hands gently sliding down your sides before Aaron stopped right at the bottom of your torso. You were breathing heavily, and he could see your chest heaving when he looked up at you. One hand clutching the bedsheet in a fist, while the other in his hair.

“Aaron…” You whispered his name, and it made his eyes go darker with desire.

“Yes, love?”

“I… need you.” You opened your eyes and found him towering over you again.

A smile tugged on his lips as you flipped both of you over and you straddled his hips. He still had his pants on, and you couldn’t help but wonder how it was so unfair that you were completely naked in front of him already and there was this piece of fabric blocking you from touching him skin to skin. You tugged down on his pants and threw them on the floor with the rest of your clothes. You left heated kisses on his chest, your hands touching every inch of his body. Every curve and hills of his muscles. You kissed the tattoo that sat right on the bottom of his torso.

You kissed every word, every letter of it.

Every pain that he suffered through his life. Every dark thought. You wanted to kiss away all of it.

Your lips trailed down and kissed his inner thigh and smiled when you heard Aaron moaned softly from your touch.

“Come here.” He whispered, pulling you up and pressed your naked body against his.

He flipped the both of you over again, hovered over you, leaving heated kisses down your body and parted your legs before kissing your inner thighs. You gasped softly as his fingers found your wet clit and gently played with it.

“Aaron—” You whined, arching your back.

He moaned softly, kissing your other thigh before his mouth found you. You bit your lower lip to keep yourself from screaming his name as he licked and sucked you on the right spot that made your legs tremble. Aaron trailed his lips back up to your body before kissing you again, tasting yourself in his lips. His hands slipped under your thighs, letting your legs wrap around his hips. He trailed kisses down your neck and sucked on your skin lightly.

You breathlessly gasp at each kiss he left as you gripped on his shoulders.

“Aaron, please….”

“Tell me, love.” He whispered in your ear, kissing the spot just below it. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“You… I need you inside me.” You lifted his head, cupping his face in your hands.

His green eyes were full of want and desire. He set both his elbows on either side of your head and smiled softly at you. You have never seen him like this before even after the many nights you have spent with him in this bed. Tonight was different. Tonight, he was showing you every vulnerable part of him. Tonight, this man in front of you was different.

This was Aaron Warner.

The real Aaron Warner.

The one who has been hiding behind a cold façade. The one who suffered from his father’s violent behavior.

The one that loves you.

Taking his member, he carefully slipped himself inside of you, soft gasps escaped from the both of you. He slowly thrusted and kissed you deeply, your moans being muffled by his kiss. He buried his face on your neck as he continued to move, and his thrusts started to quicken. Your hands gripped tightly on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

You wonder if this was a good way to die.

This moment where everything was just you and him. This moment where you could drown in forever.

You wonder if you were now in heaven.

Because everything stopped. Everything was now all hazy as you felt him move deeper inside of you. You were feeling all the emotions that you haven’t felt before. You heard yourself make sounds that you haven’t heard before. You could barely open your eyelids as you pressed your forehead against the blade of his shoulder.

“God, Aaron.” You moaned loudly, and it only made him thrusts deeper and faster inside of you, hitting you at the right spot.

“Yes, yes—!” You whispered through his fiery skin.

Aaron groaned softly, his mouth finding your breast again as he sucked and licked on it and kept his thrusts at a pace. You arched your back, your eyes closing, and your head started spinning. You have forgotten everything around you. You have forgotten where you were or who you were. You have forgotten your name. All you knew was this.

This moment right here.

You felt your walls tightened around Aaron, feeling the pleasure building up inside of you. He reached up to you, kissing you deeply as he hit you on the right spot once more. His kiss muffled your screams. He moaned your name in your ear, feeling your walls tightened around him. Pleasure washing over the both of you.

Everything shattered into pieces. Everything unraveling, coming undone and coming together at the same time. Stars were twinkling in your vision as he kissed you once more and slowed his thrusts inside of you. Both of your bodies flushed and both of you were panting heavily. Your face pressed on his neck and your nails were still digging on his shoulders. You could feel your legs trembling as you slowly unwrapped them from his hips.

“I love you so much.” He whispered breathlessly.

He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, while you closed your eyes and enjoyed this peaceful moment with him. This was something you never thought you would ever have in your life. After everything that happened in this world, you never thought that someone could love you. Someone could care about you. You never thought you would experience love in this dark and shattered world. He gazed down at you, carefully pulling himself out. His absence inside of you already made you miss him.

“I never knew what life was like until you.” Aaron murmured, fingers brushing your cheek.

Then, he brushed a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead, still trying to catch his breath. You could see his face and body were all pink and flushed.

“You gave me a reason to keep going. To stay alive. A reason to fight something for.”

His voice cracked as he lightly grazed his nose against your cheek, breathing you in.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you turned and pressed a soft kiss on his lips before parting again. You knew about the struggles he has faced. The violent upbringing he had because of his father and hearing those words escape from his lips, you couldn’t help but feel all the emotions washed over you. You never wanted him to feel like that again. You never wanted him to experience that kind of violence again. You never wanted him to feel as if his life was nothing because to you?

He was everything.

Aaron furrowed his brows as soon as he saw the expression on your face.

“Hey, what’s wrong, love?” He asked, cupping your face, worry washed over him. “Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head as you took his face in your hands. You couldn’t really say anything. You couldn’t manage to find the right words as a tear rolled down your cheek. Aaron’s thumb gently brushed the tear away, his eyes still full of concern.

“You gotta tell me what’s wrong, love. I need to know if you’re hurt or not—”

“I—I’m not.” Your voice croaked.

You saw the muscles in Aaron’s body unclenched as he blinked his eyes for a moment. He settled himself next to you, pulling the covers over the both of you and reeled you in his arms.

“What is it, love? What’s on your mind?” He asked, his voice was almost a whisper, you barely missed it.

Your heart was still pounding hard in your chest, you could hear it drumming in your eyes as you let your nose softly grazed on the line of his jaw. Aaron’s one arm was around you, his hand softly rubbing your arm. You set a hand over his chest, just right above where his heart was, and you could feel it beating hard.

And you kept thinking that it was beating hard for you.

“Everything you went through…” You breathed him in, pressing your face on his neck. “You deserve so much more.”

You felt Aaron pulled you tighter in his arms. He didn’t say a word for about a minute before he set his index finger under your chin, lifted your head and gazed down at you.

“You’re the only one I care about now.” He whispered. “I’ll do anything to protect you. To be with you.”

Pulling him in, you kissed him deeply. Aaron cupped your face as he smiled through the kiss. At this moment, you didn’t want to think about anything else. You reminded yourself that you also deserved to be happy. You just wanted to enjoy this peaceful moment with him. This happy bubble that surrounded the both of you. You knew this was a breakable heaven, but with Aaron, you’d fight for anyone and anything now.

You’d fight to keep this.

You’d fight, not just for him, but for your friends and family too.

You’d fight for love.

**********

Taglist:

#Aaron Warner #Aaron Warner x Reader #Aaron Warner x You #Aaron Warner x Fem!Reader #Aaron Warner Imagines #Aaron Warner Fics #Aaron Warner Fanfics #kenji kishimoto x reader #kenji kishimoto #kenji kishimoto x you #kenji kishimoto fanfics #kenji kishimoto imagines #shatter me #shatter me series #shatter me fanfics #shatter me fics #shatter me trilogy #blairrwaldorfs #cruel summer

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chimivx · 2 months

Text

sleepovers ↠ txt

now playing ↠ love is embarrassing • olivia rodrigo

Sleepovers at Jungkooks are the best. But, what happens the night you stay after your weekend away with the boys? Not what you think.

This is not Part Two of Cruel Summer. Just a teeny little addition to Part One.

Read Cruel Summer Part One here!

Read 'Haven' and 'Taste' [hyunjin's story]

word count ↠ 3920 warnings ↠ MDNI, 18+, mentions of sex, drug use (weed), the step sibs warning applies always even though they are not, mentions of pregnancy, cursing, jungkook gets a warning for being hawt, anxiety if you squint, IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW! a/n ↠ i had to. important info in here, hints, and just simply more about jungkook because i absolutely love him. thank you for being here! again, if this is not your thing, please keep scrolling. xo posted ↠ 3/21/24 ~ 9:20 p. m. est.

~ july 4th, 2011 ~

A pizza box slid onto the table, the three of you nestled in the chairs around it, knees either pulled into your chest or underneath you. Beomgyu was to your left, Taehyun to your right. Soda cans littered the wood, open bags of chips scattered about. The three of you were heavy lidded and glassy eyed, snacks were essential.

“Someone gonna keep telling me what else you guys did down in ‘Mano?” Jungkook asked, flipping the box open, the smell of the cheesy, greasy deliciousness smacking you all across the face. Mouth watering in an instant, you dove in first, ripping a slice apart.

Beomgyu, licking his lips, watched you pop the slice in your mouth and went in next. “We told you everything.” He answered his brother without much interest, his mind on filling his growling stomach.

“I don’t think you did,” Jungkook smirked, leaning against the edge of the table, gripping the wood.

Taking another bite, the taste entirely overwhelming, the best pizza you’ve ever fucking eaten, you quirk a brow and glance at Taehyun, then Beomgyu, then Jungkook. “What have we already said?”

The eldest tried to hide his laugh, dropping his head for a moment. “Drinks, that’s about it,” he said, looking at you. His eyes were steady, holding yours with a purpose. “But something else is going on,” he looked around the table before he landed back on you, “Since y’all got here it’s been… off. What happened?”

You immediately turned to Taehyun with both eyebrows raised. His hand flew up fast, mid bite into his pizza. He wagged a finger and hummed.

“No,” he eventually mumbled. Swallowing, he shook his head. “No.”

“No?” Jungkook scanned over the three of you, curiosity eating him alive. “You guys used to tell me everything, you can totally tell me.”

Taehyun pointed a finger at Beomgyu. “He used to tell you everything.”

Following his point, Jungkook cocked his head. “Still does.”

The fire in his eyes when he glanced back at the two of you made your heartbeat stutter. Beneath the dark chocolate, the warm, inviting, lively eyes, he was taunting you. He was taunting both of you. A smile grew on his lips, the corners perking up as he saw it work out in your brain. You couldn’t even get a gasp out.

“Yup,” Jungkook said. “So? Lemme hear it.”

You aren’t sure what would’ve happened in this moment if you weren’t fried out of your mind. Imagining two possibilities, one a freak out, and another a panic attack, you suppose either would be aimed toward Beomgyu, the boy glaring at his brother. If he wasn’t fried out of his mind he’d definitely flip his shit.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” he mumbled instead with a slow blink before he housed the rest of the pizza in his hand. Yours had dropped to the table at some point.

A laugh came from your right. A quiet, breathy laugh laced in disbelief. Taehyun, with the biggest, toothiest grin with his head in hands leaned forward onto the table, shoulders bouncing as he laughed. Now there was a spark of panic within you, a small flame igniting in your gut. Looking over at Jungkook, who watched you with a new look, one that made him seem worried, though you couldn’t tell if you were reading too much into it, you gulped painfully, your throat like sandpaper.

“What are you talking about?” Your question came out of you in a whisper, Jungkook glancing between the boys, one who didn’t seem to care, and another who found it all too hilarious. Used to being on the outside of the joke, this was one you couldn’t stand, not when it threatened the safety of the happy little world you’ve secluded yourself into.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes, his composure steady as a rock. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“How do I know what you’re talking about?” Trying to throw him off, the muscle pig who’s been smoking since he was twelve, an expert at handling his high, he started to smile.

“Save it,” he said, shaking his head. “I know it’s true and so do you,” he pushed away from the table, pointing at the boys before turning to get another soda from the fridge. “So do these two.”

Looking at them both, Beomgyu grabbing another slice of pizza, and Taehyun laying on the wood laughing quietly to himself, you sighed. “What the hell, Gyu?”

“Don’t blame me,” he muttered, barely giving you a glance.

Jungkook spun around and came back to the table, sliding you the soda he grabbed, already opened. “Yeah, don’t blame him,” he said. “Y’all are messy when you aren’t home, you know that?”

Eyes shooting open wide, you scoffed and Taehyun lifted his head, his cheeks pink. Wearing that grin, he looked at you, then he looked at Jungkook.

“He knows,” Taehyun snickered, his voice quiet. He pointed at Jungkook, his hand merely leaving the table.

Tightening your fists where they laid over the wood, you furrowed your brows and shook your head. “No, no he doesn’t. He doesn’t.” You shot the eldest a look. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook said, taking his place back at the edge of the table, muscles buckling as he locked his elbows. Your shameless, traveling eyes ate him alive. You wondered if it was noticeable, you gawking at him, but you weren’t gawking, you were… admiring. Muscles, tattoos, a few piercings… God, he was hot. “Eyes up here,” he joked, gesturing upward. Shifting in your seat you glanced to your left, Beomgyu was already judging you with a glare. It was noticeable.

“Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong,” you said, clamping your arms around your body, blinking many times, moving straight past the way your cheeks flushed.

Jungkook was quiet, for longer than you’d like. Only his eyes seemed to move, interrogating each of you, waiting for someone to crack. Taehyun, already a flustered mess, couldn’t focus on anything. Beomgyu, balls deep in another slice of pizza, wasn’t interested anymore nor concerned with the fact he’d put you in some sort of danger.

Maybe danger was extreme, but it didn’t matter. It was still bad, very, very bad.

The heat of Jungkook's stare burning a hole in your face was too much to bear. The smoke took control. “Fine, he’s my boyfriend.”

Taehyun’s giggles vanished.

“Boyfriend?” Jungkook questioned, looking at his brother.

Beomgyu stopped chewing, eyes widening ever so slightly.

“Baby,” Taehyun whispered, leaning toward you in his seat.

Jungkook nearly broke his neck. “Baby?!”

“He said he knew,” you tossed your hands at your sides. “It’s Jungkook, you know how many times he’s probably heard us fuck?!”

“Oh my god,” Beomgyu muttered.

Jungkook pushed back from the table and drug his hands through his curls. Wandering back toward the counters you heard him take a deep breath, and then another. The air in the room grew cold, a chill settling over your skin. Gulping, the look on Taehyun’s face was detrimental to your heart. His hands were stretched out, toward you, limp. The shock stung. It stung you both.

“I thought it was you two,” Jungkook finally spoke after a minute of disgustingly thick silence, motioning toward you and Beomgyu. Taehyun’s eyes found the table.

Taking a peek at Beomgyu who now watched his brother, you said, “It is,” and Jungkook’s face screwed up in confusion.

“But, you just said it’s you two,” he narrowed his eyes, taking in how Taehyun didn’t move.

Taking an audible breath, you whispered, “It is.”

A sound mimicking the shock and pure terror you were feeling fell from Jungkook’s lips that had perked up into the tiniest smile. He propped himself up against the counters and crossed his arms. You didn’t let yourself look this time.

“You’re kidding me,” he said. Taehyun turned his chin to look at him, as did Beomgyu. “The three… All three of you.” All three of you nodded. Jungkook scoffed, his shock melting into amusement. Looking from Beomgyu to Taehyun, back to Beomgyu, Jungkook pointed his finger. “Do, uh… Do you two…?”

Beomgyu ran his tongue over his lips, raising a brow. “Sometimes.”

Taehyun dropped his head back into his hands with a heavy sigh, you couldn’t tell if out of shame or just pure embarrassment that this was a topic of conversation at the moment.

“Huh,” Jungkook nodded, drinking it all up, focused on his brother. “So it does run in the family.”

“I’m not gay,” Beomgyu spat.

Jungkook laughed. “Oh, no, no, Gyu,” he taunted. “You can’t keep your dick in your pants, you were wrong. You are one of us.” The softest snicker came out of where Taehyun hid his face. “Besides, even if you were gay you’d think I care?” He clicked his tongue, “Grow up. Suck as many dicks as you want.” Now the three of you were laughing, Taehyun picking up his head to show off his smile. “I wanna know what y’all are,” he said, then looked at you and Taehyun. “What’s this boyfriend business? Y’all are like, step-siblings, that’s… Oh,” he paused, tilting his chin, puffing out his bottom lip toward Taehyun, “Dude, I can find you other sites…”

Taehyun cut him off with a shout and swat of his hand while you and Beomgyu giggled, Jungkook laughing along with you. Thankfully Taehyun did as well, sitting backward in his chair, tipping his head backward with a groan, his cheeks unable to stop cheesing.

“Tell me. I wanna know, too.” Jungkook was smug, shaking his shoulders back and forth with the funniest smile. He used his elbow to point at each of you. “This whole time I thought you were fuckin’ my brother and you were watching.”

Taehyun furrowed his eyebrows. Memories of a few days prior popped into your head.

“Sometimes someone ends up watching,” Taehyun began, his smile calming down. “But, when it’s… God, this is weird to say to you… When it’s the three of us, we’re…”

“All involved…” you breathed, side eyeing him in hopes it was okay for you to step into his choppy explanation.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, facing his brother. “He fucks her, I fuck her, I fuck him, he fucks me, we all fucking fuck.”

Jungkook's heart shaped lips had parted, his star filled eyes wide. Beomgyu’s words made you want to curl up in a literal ball and pass away. All you could do was laugh. All Taehyun could do, was laugh. Beomgyu released a heavy, audible breath and slumped backward, shaking his head.

Covering your mouth, you turned toward him. “I can’t believe you just said all of that out loud.”

“Wasn’t the first time,” he mumbled under his breath, glaring at his brother. “Happy now?”

Jungkook snapped his mouth shut. A smirk tugged at his lips as he clapped his hands together. “Amazing,” he said. “Now it makes sense. You didn’t say yes,” he mocked the twang in his brother's deep voice and studied Taehyun. “What are you, the permission giver? The leader?” He shot you and his brother a look. “Brat tamer?” Beomgyu snickered with you.

Taehyun, rubbing a hand over his chest, took a breath to calm down and stared at the table. “I’m…” he glanced up at you and your heart stopped beating. “She’s… She’s my girlfriend.” Nerves erupted in your gut, your entire body going still. Taehyun offered you a smile, one you couldn’t return.

Paralyzed, you couldn’t even look at Jungkook. Frozen, you clenched your jaw, wondering why it didn’t feel good to hear him say the words.

He was still talking to Jungkook, the two continued on, discussing who knows what about your relationship. You heard mentions of your parents not knowing, about Yeonjun not knowing, about everyone not knowing, except him.

Between your lungs tightened, your ribs constricting your breath from the inside out. Averting your stare to the table, you tried to breathe, a short gasp of air that did nothing to ease the, you think, panic? Was it panic? Chest pain, shortness of breath, you couldn’t remember all the shit that came with it.

He was so calm about it, saying the words to Jungkook. She’s my girlfriend. They were words that were rarely spoken around others, even the boy to your left.

A hand found your arm, Beomgyu’s, wrapping around your wrist. Barely turning your chin, he was looking at you, his body facing you entirely, both of his feet on the floor. “It’s okay,” his voice quiet, the other boys laughing at something Jungkook had said. “You’re okay. It’s Jungkook, it’s okay.”

He could read it all within your eyes. Everything you were feeling, everything you wanted to say. There was little to nothing he could say to you in this moment that would make you feel any better about it.

Bobbing his head, agreeing to something he decided on himself inside his head, he turned toward his brother and crossed a foot over one of his knees. “JK,” he started, cutting the boys off, probably details deep in you and Taehyun. The eldest, mid sentence, used to his brother cutting into every conversation of his, shot him a look. “Sorry,” Beomgyu’s lazy smile made an appearance, your heart somewhat holding onto it. “Info goes both ways here.”

“So do you, apparently.” Jungkook smiled after you and Taehyun laughed. He looked toward your boyfriend briefly, “You do too, Alabama.” The giggles had finally found you again, Beomgyu hitting you with his smile, happy to see you squeeze your eyes shut as his brother spoke. “What info, Gyu?”

“They didn’t know you were having a kid,” Beomgyu said. You admired the way he gazed at his brother, evident that he looked up to him more than he liked to let on. Aside from Hyunjin, Jungkook was the only older male figure in his life, holding down the life they lived with Jihyo before he moved out.

“Yeah, what is that?” Taehyun asked. “When the hell did that happen? You said she’ll be here soon?”

“It’s a girl?” You spoke up, voice tiny, all the boys pointing their gazes toward you.

Jungkook smiled, a real smile. Proud.

“It’s a girl,” he said. Thinking to himself for a moment, eyes wandering the tiled floor, he nodded. “In two months she’ll be here. I was just with Chaeyoung this weekend, she had a doctor's appointment, we got to, uh, we got to see her.” Jungkook twisted his fingers together, looking away from the three of you as his smile faded into something small.

“You’re excited,” you said, and he met your eyes. Another nod from him warmed your heart. “Is Chae excited?”

His eyes dropped back to the floor. You were about to regret your question until he opened his mouth.

“She is.” He rolled his shoulders back and sighed, sharing a look with Beomgyu. “We just have to work some things out, that’s all.”

“What stuff?” Taehyun was focused on the tattooed boy, eyes grilling him, almost seeming like he was judging him.

Not judging, analyzing.

“Well,” Jungkook sighed again, “She only told me a month ago.” Gasping, Jungkook huffed a laugh toward you. “I know,” he raised his brows, the piercing catching the light as he tilted his chin. “She said she didn’t know how to tell me.”

“She had seven months,” you muttered.

Taehyun shot you a quick look before he asked Jungkook, “Is that not when you guys broke up?”

Jungkook thinned his lips. “It was right when we broke up.”

The two dated for four years, Chaeyoung and Jungkook, and she was the only one out of all his girlfriends that you absolutely adored. Aside from her stunning complexion, bright eyes, and fun hair, she was a sweetheart, and funny as fuck. Jungkook was already a trip himself, put the two together and you’d all be rolling for hours on end. She was a girls girl, she kept an eye on you when you were around, and always asked you if you were okay. She was the one to teach you that doing your hair and makeup didn’t matter if you didn’t want to wear it, and taught you how to perfect a messy bun. Sleepovers at Jungkooks were your favorite when she was around, she treated you all like her little siblings, not just Beomgyu.

“You remember when it happened?” Beomgyu snickered, one of his nails finding its way between his teeth. Leaning toward him you grabbed his wrist and threw his hand into his own lap. The look he gave you, you ignored.

“It’s not that weird,” Jungkook shrugged. “I didn’t wear a condom.” The sudden switch in his tone, from calm to literal older brother, straightened all of you out. He closed his eyes and sighed, a hand touching his forehead. “You guys are twenty, you need to be smarter. Feel like I’m talking to teenagers. You guys let anyone else in on this… this situation? Jesus, I don’t even know what the fuck to call it.”

“No.” The word loud, with emphasis, left the three of you at once.

“Okay,” Jungkook’s tone switched back to calm, collected. “Still, protect yourselves. You do not need to get sick and you do not need to be having kids.” He shared a look with his brother. “Especially you.” The boy rolled his eyes and hung his head, his fingers messing with each other. “I’m sure if you two do, your daddy will take care of it all, right Taehyun?” Jungkook’s smile made Taehyun scoff. “You take that job yet?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “I dunno if I can do all that. Numbers, money? I can barely tell colors apart.” Beomgyu just about snorted.

It was always in the cards for Taehyun to take a position below Jin at the company he worked for, at HGF, Han Guardian Finance. A prestigious bank that’s beginning to slowly inch its way around the country. At least that’s what Jin has told you, that’s their goal, him and the CEO’s son, Han Jisung. They want the company to go worldwide, and even Joy thinks that’s too ambitious. She’s always warned Jin that his now partner, Jisung, leaned into the greedier side of the work world, of life. That he should be cautious, that Jisung would take whatever he could get, throw away whatever was needed to make more, to have more.

Joy said that. Joy.

“That’s good money, dude,” Jungkook said. “He’s giving it to you, you don’t even have to interview or nothing. He’ll probably build you your own office once you say yes. You could move out to your own place after a month of working there, you realize that?” Taehyun listened, his head nodding more and more as Jungkook spoke, advising him like he was another little brother. “It’d be stupid of you not to take it. What else are you gonna do? College?”

“Never,” Taehyun breathed. He spared you a quick glance. “What if I hate it though?”

Jungkook tried his best to not roll his eyes, a smirk playing at his lips. “I’d rather be rich and hate my job than be living paycheck to paycheck, wondering how the fuck I’m gonna raise a daughter when I can barely keep what I have now in line.”

Beomgyu wiggled in his seat, his eyes pointed down. Jungkook peered toward him without him noticing, some type of compassion, or care within his look. The eldest adored him as much as the youngest respected him. Brothers, siblings, a bond you’ve never experienced, and never will. The two of them best friends, counting on one another, helping one another, being there, the two of them literally made for the other. Two extremely different beings, having come from the same place, not the same in the slightest, but with the same blood coursing through their veins.

It was beautiful, their relationship, something you’ve been envious of since the start. When Jungkook started to date Chaeyoung, that’s the closest you’ve felt to having someone fill the role of big sister. That is, until you met Dina. Still, a piece of you wished to know what it felt like, to have a sibling. To have someone belong to you, because they share a piece of you. They understand you, because, in some way, they are you.

You turned to Jungkook, the question eating you alive from the inside out, stopping each boy where he was. “Are you gonna marry her?”

Taehyuns eyes were hot on you. Beomgyu ogled his brother.

Jungkook bit his lip, taking the silver ring into his mouth. A gentle chuckle came out of him. “If she says yes.”

Beomgyu lurched forward in his seat, this clearly being the first he’s heard of it. “What are you talking about? You told me days ago you were-”

“Nope,” Jungkook cut him off. “I was pissed, don’t take that seriously.”

Beomgyu slumped back and groaned, folding his arms over his chest tight. “Then why say it if you don’t mean it?”

Jungkook gave him a look that told him to brush it off while apologizing at the same time. “We’re going to see Whitney tomorrow.”

“I hate her,” Beomgyu grumbled.

Jungkook sighed. “No you don’t.” The glare he got in return was lethal. “The answer is,” he focused back on you, “I want to. I’m ready to ask her. I love her. I love our daughter already. These months of being broken up were really stupid, and immature. We’ve got some shit to sort out, but who doesn’t. I’m about to be twenty four, I can be a dad, I can be a husband.” A laugh came from Beomgyu. Jungkook returned the glare he had gotten moments prior. “Shut up.”

“No, come on, I think it’s cute you wanna play daddy,” Beomgyu smirked. “Also think it's ridiculous you’re exactly like Hyunjin, ‘cept without the addict part. I’d like to see you be a house-husband, that should be fun.”

“I think it’s great,” you said, voice quiet, watching Jungkook as he moved to give you a smile. Now Beomgyu’s eyes were hot on you too, his neck nearly snapping toward you in shock. “I love Chae, too. I miss her. And I think you’ll be a really good dad.” Considering what had happened with his own, you know there was no need to bring up how much practice he’s gotten already. How you just know he would take the example he was given, and do the exact opposite. The action he’s taken already, how he’s dove head first into it, seeming with little resentment given he’s only just found out about his child.

“Thanks,” Jungkook said. “Chaeyoung was talking about you the last time I was with her.” A smile found your lips. “She misses you, too. She hopes… She hopes you’re okay.” He let his gaze drag over the three of you. “She’s so smart.” He laughed. “She guessed this before I even realized what was happening. You three.”

“She did?” you whispered.

Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, she knows. Figured it out herself.” He popped his brows and smiled at you. “Girl intuition is crazy.”

Swallowing hard, you blinked and glanced at your lap. Taking a deep breath, you tried to ease the nerves that crept up within you. You looked at Taehyun, who was now talking with Jungkook, and tightened your jaw.

Girl intuition is crazy.

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proxima-writes · 1 year

Text

Title: cruel summer | chapter 5

Pairing: No Outbreak!Joel Miller/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Join the tag list

Summary: Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Author’s Note: Thank you for all the love on this fic and any others you may have read! Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed 💕 There will be one more chapter to this story.

Reminder that I’m open to requests, esp Joel because he’s the source of my brain rot right now. 🫠

Additional Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age gap (38M and 23F), oral (f receiving), pet names, dirty talk, ANGST not resolved in chapter (i hurt my own feelings with this one). Let me know if any are missing!

At the start of November, you ask Joel about coming with you to your parent’s house for Thanksgiving.

The question stops him in his tracks. It makes sense, the next logical progression of your relationship would be meeting friends and family, and you’ve already met his brother and daughter. In any other relationship, it would only be fair that he meets your parents soon.

The problem is he’s met your parents, just under different circumstances. And he doesn’t have much faith in them being particularly receptive to the news that their hired contractor got in bed with their daughter.

“You look worried,” you comment. You’re reclined on his couch with a book, one of his sweatshirts engulfing your frame. You set the book aside as he enters the room and sits beside you, moving your feet to his lap and squeezing your shin.

“I am worried. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says gently. Your face drops and he feels his heart fracture at the sight.

“I don’t want to have to keep you a secret just to keep you,” you say, voice small. He gives you a tight smile.

“Just…give me a little more time, okay?” He leans over until his hands are planted in the cushions on either side of your head. He drops a kiss to your lips. Then another. And another.

The question is forgotten between the movement of your bodies.

________

The next time you ask is around Christmas. You’re lying in bed beside him, head resting on his chest, fingers drawing patterns over his bare skin.

“What do you think about coming to my parent’s Christmas Eve?” You ask quietly. If the hitch in his breath is any indication, you already prepare yourself for disappointment.

“I can’t, baby,” he says. “Goin’ to Tommy’s place that night.”

“Right,” you reply.

He doesn’t say anything more. Doesn’t offer an alternative. You recognize that it’s not fair of you to expect that as a response, but the hurt in your heart isn’t helping your sense of logic.

You just want to be completely open about your relationship, and your parents knowing about it is the last hurdle. Your best friend, Hannah, met him a couple months ago when he’d woken up at your apartment the morning after you’d screamed your confession of love at him in your hallway.

Things have been great since then. You spend the night at his place a couple times a week, trying to balance the visits with your study schedule. Together you take Sarah to the park or the zoo or back to the aquarium, spending the days wrapped around the little girl’s finger and the nights wrapped around each other.

But you want him in every facet of your life. You want him and his daughter and hell, even his brother, over for holidays with your family and you want them with you during big milestones like your graduation in the spring.

His breathing goes deep and slow beneath your head and you sigh, sinking into the disappointment.

________

To make up for not seeing you on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, Joel makes plans with you on December 26. You arrive at his house late in the morning to find him making breakfast while Sarah stands on a kitchen chair beside him, mixing a bowl of pancake batter with intense focus. She nearly drops it in excitement when she hears you come in, shouting your name and scrambling from her perch.

Her arms wrap around your legs and her eyes zero in on the brightly wrapped box balanced in your arms as you try to set your overnight bag down.

“Who’s that for?” She asks. “Is it for me?”

“Sarah,” Joel admonishes, taking over her abandoned mixing. The little girl is unfazed.

“It just so happens to be for you,” you tell her, handing over the present. She squeals, ripping into the wrapping paper and pulling out a new Barbie doll, one who’s curly hair looks just like hers. She gasps.

“Daddy, it’s a Barbie! And look at her hair!” She exclaims, shaking the box in Joel’s face. His eyes meet yours over her head, full of gratitude.

“What do you say?” Joel prompts gently. Sarah wraps her arms around your legs again.

“Thank you,” she says sweetly. “Can you help me open it?”

“Of course. Could you get me your scissors?”

She bolts from the room and Joel crosses the kitchen to grasp your face in his palms, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips that makes your knees go weak.

“Now where’s my present?” He asks with a sly grin, earning him a smack on the chest.

“You can unwrap it later,” you tell him, wiggling your eyebrows. Sarah returns to the room, carefully holding her craft scissors with the blades down like she learned in school.

You help free the Barbie from her cardboard confinement and Sarah plays with her through breakfast, alternating bites of pancake and pretend conversation with her new favorite toy. Towards the end of breakfast, the front door opens and Tommy yells out his hello.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he says to you with a wink. Joel glares at him. It’s been a running joke between you and Tommy the last couple of months.

“You’re gonna give yourself wrinkles glaring at your brother like that,” you tease.

Tommy’s come over to pick up Sarah because Joel has a whole day planned, starting with a trip to your favorite coffee shop.

“Get somethin’ hot, it’s cold where I’m takin’ you next,” Joel says while you’re in line, his hand around your hip to keep you pressed to his side.

________

The next stop Joel has planned for you is the ice skating rink. You mentioned briefly at the beginning of the month that you usually go every winter, digging the old pair of skates from your teenage years out from your closet for the occasion. Joel was lucky enough to find them the last time he’d stayed at your apartment, stashing them in the back of the truck for this moment. He holds the bag out to you and your face lights up.

“Joel! Seriously?” You ask, bouncing slightly in your seat.

“Yep. You ready to watch me fall on my ass?” He asks.

And fall on his ass he does. He grips the wall of the rink, inching along on shaky legs as you skate laps past him, the sound of your laughter making the suffering worth it.

You try to help him learn. He holds both your hands as you slowly skate backwards, his knees bent as he’s simply dragged along the ice. As soon as you let go of his hands, his feet slide out from under him and he goes tumbling down.

You stand over him, trying to hide a giggle behind your hand as he groans in pain, the cold seeping into his jeans.

“You think that’s funny, do you?” He asks with a grunt. “Help an old man up.”

“I will always lend a hand to a senior citizen in need,” you tease, holding a hand to him.

Once standing, Joel tugs you closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and looking down into your face. Christ, you’re so pretty, face all flushed and smile so wide it’s damn near blinding in its brightness.

“You ready for dinner yet?” He asks. You nod.

You try to pull away, but he keeps a tight hold around you. “Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you just holding on to me so that you don’t fall?”

“Is it that obvious?” You laugh, ducking until you’ve escaped his arms. He stands still, arms out at his sides as he tries to maintain his balance. “You gonna help me here?”

Your grin is mischievous as you skate away from him, the sound of his cursing drowned out by your delighted laughter.

________

Joel makes a quick stop at his house so that you can change into the outfit you’d been instructed to bring for dinner, a light blue dress with a low neckline that hugged your curves down to your knees. You did your hair and makeup in his bathroom before slipping the dress on, stepping out to request his help with the zipper.

“Shit, baby, I might have to cancel the reservations if you’re goin’ to walk around lookin’ good enough to eat,” he says with a whistle. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Then why don’t you?” You ask.

He blinks, staring at you with his mouth dropped open like he can’t believe you said that. But then his brain comes back online and he marches toward you, backing you up with the press of his body until your knees meet the edge of the mattress and he pushes you down gently.

He drops to his knees, hiking the dress up over your thighs until he’s exposed the lacy black panties you put on. He groans, looking up at you briefly before he turns his head and sinks his teeth into your inner thigh.

Your head drops back with a moan and you can feel his lips spread into a smile against your skin. His hands work to slide your panties down your thighs and off your legs, bunching them into a ball and stuffing them into his pocket.

“Dirty man,” you tease. He laughs, a dark low rumble that makes you impossibly wetter.

“Can’t help it when you look this good, sweetheart.”

There’s no more talking after that. He licks through your wet center, circling your clit with the flat of his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. Your back arches from the bed as you shout, fingers digging into his hair to pull him closer.

His tongue dips lower to explore inside your tight heat, his nose bumping your clit and his fingers pressed so tightly into your thighs you’re certain there will be bruises for you to admire in the morning.

“Joel,” you whimper, hips writhing beneath him. He releases his grip on one thigh to slide two fingers into you, curling them as he withdraws his hand and making you see stars.

He lifts his head, circling your clit with his thumb as he growls, “Come on, darlin’, wanna feel this pussy get drenched for me.”

With a shout of his name, your release washes over you, your legs tightening against his shoulders as you clench around his fingers. He works you through the waves of pleasure before slowly withdrawing his fingers.

Joel brings his fingers to his lips, sucking them into his mouth with a groan, eyes fluttering shut at the taste.

“Such a good girl, baby,” he says. You can’t help the little giggle that bubbles up.

“You gonna give me back my panties?” You ask.

“No chance in hell,” he replies with a wink.

________

Joel manages to get the two of you to the restaurant just in time for the reservation, despite the distraction of your sweet moans and delicious pussy.

He picked this restaurant because of two things. One, it had great reviews for their steak and he’s a sucker for a good hunk of meat. He’s a Texan man, after all.

Two, it was a bit more upscale and he wanted to treat you to something nice. He knows you’ve been disappointed that two holidays have come and gone now and he still hasn’t agreed to meet your parents and bring your relationship to the light. But he just can’t shake the feeling that telling them will pop this beautiful bubble that the two of you have created. This whole day has been as much of an apology as it has been a gift.

The restaurant is busy. Most of the tables are filled and there’s a private room that’s bustling with people as well. The hostess walks the two of you to a small table near the bar and he holds your chair out for you to take a seat. The table is set with a number of cutlery he’s not sure how to use on top of a pristine white tablecloth. There’s a candle and a small floral arrangement in the center, the flame throwing a pretty glow over your face.

“This is beautiful,” you comment once the hostess has stepped away with promises that your waiter will be there shortly. “Oh, they have duck!”

The waiter comes by with a wine list. Joel knows fuck all about wine, so he hands it to you, only for you to stare wide eyed at it.

“Joel, these prices are insane!” You hiss when the waiter steps away to let you make a choice. He grabs your hand.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby, but I don’t give a fuck. Pick whatever you want,” he says. You still look uncertain.

When the waiter returns, he takes matters into his own hands, slipping the list from your hands. “My girl wants the duck. What’s the best white wine to pair with it.” He listens to the options and raises an eyebrow at you to pick one. He keeps the list captive so that you don’t base the choice off the dollar amount.

When the food arrives, you chat about anything and everything while you eat. When you’ve set your silverware down, insisting you can’t eat another bite, Joel reaches across the table for your hand, thumb circling the smooth skin of your palm. You give him the softest smile that makes his heart beat triple time.

“You have fun today?” He asks.

“The most fun,” you confirm. You’re about to say something else, but you’re cut off by a loud voice from the other side of the restaurant.

“Joel Miller!” The voice calls. He looks up.

Right into your father’s smiling face.

________

Joel goes tense all over, the grip on your hand tightening as his eyes flick between you and your father approaching from behind you. You stare at Joel with wide eyes, unsure of what to do. If the earth opening up and swallowing you whole were an option, you’d gladly take it.

He stands as your dad reaches the edge of the table, shaking his hand with a strained smile.

“How have you been, Miller? The wife loves that bathroom, sometimes she’ll just stand in the doorway and stare at it lovingly,” he jokes.

“That’s great. That she loves it. Uh, I’ve been great,” he replies. He runs a hand nervously through his hair.

“I don’t want to interrupt your date—,” your dad starts, turning towards you. His smile immediately drops. Your name leaves his lips in surprise. “What are you doing here?” He asks. You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond, but as your dad’s eyes go between your surprised expression and Joel’s guilty one, his brain seems to make the connection. He turns to Joel.

“Joel. Why is my daughter here?” He asks, voice quietly controlled in the same way it is when he’s asking you something he already knows the answer to.

Joel straightens, throwing his shoulders back and keeping his head high as he looks your dad in the eye. “Because she’s my date.”

Your dad pinches the bridge of his nose. “What the fuck do you mean, she’s your date? She’s twenty-three!” He snaps.

“Dad—“

“No, I don’t want to hear anything from you right now.” You feel his words like a slap. “What is this, Miller? Spent all that time in my house and thought you could take advantage of my daughter?”

“Dad! ” You snap. “He didn’t take advantage of me, I’m an adult .”

“You’re still a kid,” your dad snaps back. “And he’s a goddamn adult who should have fuckin’ known better.”

“Dad, please. Stop. We can talk about this later, ” you plead desperately. Your dad gives you both one last derisive look before turning on his heel and storming off, heading into the private event room. “Shit. Fuck. His fucking company Christmas dinner. And it had to be here?!”

Joel stares blankly after your dad’s retreating figure. You place a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Joel?” You ask quietly.

“How about you go out to the truck and I’ll take care of the bill,” he says, eyes looking everywhere but at you. You swallow nervously.

“Why don’t we at least finish dinner?”

He snaps your name, making you flinch. “Please. Just…listen to me, alright? I’ll be out in a minute.”

You gather your purse and make your way out to the parking lot, fighting back tears with each step.

________

After paying the bill, Joel slips inside the private room, eyes scanning for your father. He finds him at a back corner table, head down as he types on his phone.

Joel approaches and takes the seat beside him. When your father looks up, his face drops from welcoming to downright frosty.

“Sir,” Joel starts. He swallows around the lump in his throat. “I just want you to know that I love your daughter. More than anythin’. This isn’t some sick game of me tryin’ to get my rocks off with some girl younger than me. It’s…she’s the best thing that’s happened to me since my own daughter was born. And I’d do anythin’ for her.”

The man doesn’t respond, but Joel sees the tick of his jaw.

“I just thought you should know,” Joel finishes. He waits a beat for the other man to respond. When he doesn’t, Joel stands with a sigh, heading to the truck with a nervous heart.

________

Joel’s quiet on the ride home. He keeps both hands on the wheel and the spot on your thigh where he usually rests his palm is especially cold.

You don’t know what to say. That whole scene in the restaurant was an absolute disaster, one that you were hoping could be avoided by telling your dad about your relationship, but Joel hadn’t been ready. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth, an “I told you so” threatening to escape your lips as you stare out the window.

When Joel pulls to a stop, it takes you a moment to realize that he’s outside of your apartment and not his house. Turning to face him, he’s staring out the windshield with his jaw clenched tight. He doesn’t look at you.

“Joel?” You ask. You hate how tiny your voice sounds. “Can…can we please talk? About this?”

His eyes slip shut and he rests his head back against the headrest with a sigh. “I’m not sure what there is to talk about, sweetheart.”

The tears burn as they slide down your cheeks. “Please?”

He turns his head to look at you. “Please what?”

“Please don’t shut me out again,” you beg, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his, resting your head against his shoulder as you shut your eyes tightly against the tears. You can feel him turn and press his lips to the crown of your head.

“Baby…I just need some time, okay? I love you, I swear it, but I just gotta take a breather and think about everythin’, okay?”

You can feel your heart fracture in your chest, your stomach aching as you try to come up with a reply.

“Don’t cry,” Joel whispers. He unbuckles his seatbelt. “Come on, baby, let’s get you inside.” You shake your head against his shoulder. “You’re breakin’ my heart.”

“You’re breaking mine, Joel!” You snap.

He doesn’t reply, and silence has never been quite as loud as this before.

You sit up straight, swiping at the tear stains on your cheeks before shoving the passenger door open. Before slamming it shut, you take one last look at him.

“I love you, Joel Miller. I hope you find it in you to not be a fucking coward and love me back,” you tell him before slamming the door shut.

A fresh wave of tears cascades down your cheeks as you let yourself into your apartment, collapsing against the door as soon as you have it shut.

________

In the truck, Joel sends a text to Tommy letting him know he’ll be home soon and that he can bring Sarah back over if she’s still awake.

He opens the chat thread with you, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He has so much to say, he doesn’t know where to start. He settles on one sentence.

I love you. I’ll fix this.

He opens a new chat thread and finds a contact he hasn’t used since the summer.

Can we talk?

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