#how did it make its way here; where she thought it couldn't reach her? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gyuzgrl · 14 days

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her //kmg//

summary- with your marriage in shambles, you find yourself at your wits end when Mingyu's infidelity comes to light. heated discussions ensue.

PLEASE WAIT FOR PT 2 I'M NOT LETTING HIM OFF THAT EASY !!!!

Mingyu never thought he'd end up here. As tears brim over your cheeks, hurt evident in your eyes, he feels his world collapse.

Sure, he'd only married you because his father arranged it, but as your relationship comes up on its first year, he's developed certain feelings towards you. Feelings you can never know of. Feelings he thought you'd never return.

Your marriage has never been a point of envy for those around you. It's common knowledge that you and Mingyu hate each other's guts. You've made your peace with this- or at least you thought you did, until this morning, when your breakfast was interrupted by an unexpected voice message.

'hi, it's me- um I think you left your tie at my place last night... d'you wanna come get it? I've uh, I've bought that set you told me to get last week. call me back, kay? see ya'

The words ring clear as day in your head, even now, as you sob into your palms, hunched over in bed.

Filled with dread, you waited for your husband to leave the house, heading to work. You knew he would've heard the message- her message- sometime during the day, and so, you waited.

Waited for the call-

"I'll be home late today- there's an issue that came up last minute. don't wait up."

There. That same excuse you've heard night after night, for months on end. Your heart breaks when you realise that Mingyu's probably gone to see her everytime he had to 'stay late at the office'.

Although you knew going into this marriage that there would be no love, no romance, you couldn't help but hope. Hope that one day your husband would wake up and realise that he's been in love with you all along. Hope that one day the fighting and screaming would cease. Hope that one day he'd look at you like you matter to him.

Hearing the practiced ease with which Mingyu lied to you, you felt your last straw snap. No love, you could deal with. No intimacy, you could self satisfy. But no respect? Taking you for a fool, playing around behind your back, lying? You've reached a new low.

What's worse is, despite knowing that he's in the wrong here, you can't help but wonder what she has that you don't. What can you do to make him love you? How can you make him want you?

Mingyu's neglect has done permanent damage to your self esteem, and now you find yourself caught in an endless loop of obsession.

Evening rolls around and you're alone, in your big apartment, surrounded by cold, white furniture. Your house is spotless. It's clean and neat and unfamiliar. You can't call this place home. Not when nobody really lives in it.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as your mind fills with thoughts of your husband's infidelity. He's smiled at her, undressed her, touched her. Fuck, he probably looks at her and sees the ghost of what could've been.

No, you tell yourself. You cannot possibly be crying over a man who doesn't care about you. Where is the self respecting woman you once knew? The one that would stand up tall, make her presence felt.

Hours pass by like this, and the house grows dark. You haven't moved from your position in bed- scrunched up, hugging your knees close. You haven't eaten all day. You haven't thought of anything but Mingyu's betrayal.

There's a sharp jangle of keys sticking into the door, and you know he's here. You can't bring yourself to move, can't be bothered to greet him like you usually do.

His bag lands on the couch outside with a dull thunk, and he makes his way to the bedroom.

You should move- pretend to be asleep so he doesn't try to say anything, turn to the side so he doesn't notice your pain- but you don't. You can't, rather.

Mingyu walks in, head hanging low. He notices your frame, hunched up on the mattress, and his shoulders tense.

"you're up" he says to you, as if to confirm.

You stay silent.

"y/n?"

More silence.

Flicking the lights on now, Mingyu takes a step towards the bed, now noticing the red hot flush of tears streaming down your face.

"hey what's-" he draws closer, arm reaching out to thumb away your tears, "you're crying,"

So you did end up crying.

All the mental pep talks you gave yourself about self respect and how he doesn't deserve your tears, clearly didn't do much.

You lift a hand to your cheeks, feeling the wetness of your tears.

"oh", is all you can manage, wondering when you started crying, sitting dumbly as if under some sort of spell. Your eyes, unfocused, stare blankly at the wall in front of you, and your lips begin to quiver.

"what's wrong? oh my g- please don't cry" Mingyu panics, reaching out to grab your face, but your words have him freeze.

"don't. don't touch me."

Your voice is a whisper, trembling like a leaf, but it carries a dangerous certainty.

He backs away instantly- "is everything oka-"

This time you turn to the side, facing him properly, and something within him just knows that you know.

"oh." he breathes, eyes flashing with guilt.

"when were you going to tell me?"

When he fails to respond, you push further, voice laced with a dangerous mix of hurt and rage.

"how long have you been seeing her for? goddammit Mingyu I know you don't love me- I know you aren't happy but god how could you do this to me? to us? you have to remember, I'm just a woman at the end of the day. I'm only human- fuck" you break off into a sob, letting your words, your emotions free. It was reckless- being so raw- but there's nothing to lose anymore...

You've already lost what little you thought you had.

Your watery, blank eyes tremble upwards to meet his, and you see his face contort with an unrecognizable kind of pain. You've never seen him like this before.

"whatever you wanted, whatever you needed- you could've taken it from me, I'm your wife Mingyu. god, I feel so fucking stupid waiting for you all this while to just love me- and you've been crawling into someone else's sheets? Do I disgust you so much that you won't even touch me to satisfy yourself? Do you hate me so mu-"

"don't you dare." Mingyu interrupts, jaw tensing, "you can call me a liar, a cheat, an asshole I don't care but don't you dare try and tell me how I feel- not when you don't fucking know anything."

Your brows pinch together, an insurmountable rage boiling inside you, and you rise to your feet, standing as you face your husband.

"oh, I, don't know anything? What about you then, Mingyu? What do you know that I don't? I'm telling you how I feel 'cause I fucking see it. I see the way you look at me with that unamused, tired look in your eyes, I see how you don't talk to me, I see how you leave your stupid fucking ties at some girl's house 'cause you'd rather fuck her than touch m-"

You can't bring yourself to finish your sentence. Somehow, saying what you already know, makes if feeler so much more real. You can't bear the thought of him not loving you, not wanting you.

"you think this is what I wanted? you think I wanted to look for someone else instead of touching you? fuck y/n after all the screaming and fighting, you think I didn't wanna reach out and hold you? everyday when I get home you think I don't wan- fuck do you really think I don't wanna talk to you and hear your voice and feel you?"

You shake your head, slightly afraid of how Mingyu's eyes have darkened, taking on a crazed hue.

"my arms would never have comforted you, y/n. You thought me a stranger. How could I touch you, knowing damn well you don't want me like I want you?" He stops, chest heaving with bottled emotions, and his words ring in your head.

'you don't want me like I want you'

Trembling hands ball into fists, punching his chest as tears stream down your face. How dare he? How dare he assume that you didn't want him- that you didn't love him?

"you fucking idiot" you sob, fat tears rolling down your cheek.

There's a short pause as Mingyu derives meaning from your words, and his eyes widen.

"y-you mean to say that you lo-" he chokes back a shudder when your hands grip at the fabric of his shirt in wordless confirmation. A hand wraps around your fist, pulling you closer, and your eyes widen.

"what are you doing-"

"what I should've done a long time ago."

A swift tug has you stumbling forward, right into him, and your lips meet. Mingyu's free hand splays against your lower back, dragging you nearer- as close as physically possible- while he devours you like a prisoner on death row receiving his last meal.

It's a messy, desperate kiss, but the sparks it sends flying over your body has your knees growing weaker and weaker. His lips cradle yours, sucking, tugging, pushing, as he holds you like there's no tomorrow. Tears prick your eyes once more, but this time it's different.

Now you can feel his emotions, feel his love.

The longing, the yearning he's felt all this while, comes pouring out into the points where your bodies connect. His touch sends fire burning all over you, chasing away your despair and replacing it instead with red-hot desire.

Mingyu's tongue pushes into you, licking at the seam of your mouth, circling your tongue as he discovers you in a way he never has before. You can't help but whimper at his actions, and you find yourself getting lost in him. No sound- other than your heartbeat, thudding in your ears- is audible to you. Nothing. It's as though you're underwater, and your hearing is muffled- except this time, it's him you're drowning in.

Aching lungs remind you that air is a necessity, and you both pull away, a string of saliva connecting your crimson lips to his. The rapid rise and fall of your chest tells Mingyu to give you time, but his body doesn't listen.

The taste of you is addictive.

He pulls you in once again, ignoring the helpless gasp you let out in response. Trailing up your back, Mingyu tangles his hand into your hair, letting his palm cradle the nape of your neck. The plush surface of his lips feel sinful against yours- leaving you in desperate need of more. His tongue swipes at the seam of your mouth and you let him in, giving him access once again.

The hand holding your wrist crawls up to your palm, interlacing his fingers with yours, and squeezing tight, as if to reassure you, as if to say- 'I'm right here, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere'

"Mingyu," you breathe against his lips, "do you reall-"

You feel his lips quirk up into a smile, letting his canines show ever so slightly, and he moves down to your neck, right below your ear.

Sucking harsh, wet love bites into the sensitive skin, he whispers-

"I love you more than words could even begin to describe"

His breath ghosts over your ear, spreading goosebumps all around your body and you shudder at the sudden stimulation. Pulling back, you look him in the eye, lust and love brewing in your own.

"so show me"

It's as though you've awoken something within him- something he's been trying to tame, to control. There's a fire burning in his eyes, dancing with danger, with desire. Without warning, Mingyu pushes into you, closing the space between your bodies, and you let out a pitiful whimper.

"will you let me?" he takes in a sharp breath, feeling your body against his.

You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and nod. Mingyu taps at your thighs, and you jump right away, trusting him blindly to catch you.

"good girl-" he rasps as his hand travels down to squeeze the curve of your ass.

Mingyu sucks bruises into your skin- neck, chest, jaw- wherever he can, and you let him, not caring about who sees them. You tip your head down to do the same, but something stops you.

A bruise.

He tugs you back, searching your eyes.

"what's wrong?"

"she's kissed you here"

He sighs.

"we don't have to do this- I've j-"

"no! no I want to- I want this god I want this I just- can I do something first?"

He nods.

"anything you want, my love"

Mingyu places you back down and lets you push him onto the bed, laying him down on his back as you crawl on top of him. Stradling his waist, you begin to unbutton his shirt, letting the crisp white fabric fall slack against your fingers.

"you're mine now, you got that?"

"all yours baby, only yours" he breathes as you part his shirt.

Your eyes skim over the hickeys painted over his chest and your heart twists painfully in your chest. Unshed tears sting at your eyes, and immediately Mingyu sits up against the headboard, holding your face.

"I'm so sorry- I- fuck we shouldn't-"

"no."

"baby..."

"no- I want these-" you motion to the bruises on his chest, "I want these off of you"

Mingyu nods silently, leaning back against the headboard, and you continue your actions. Lowering your face to his throat, you find a red-ish splotch, and attach your lips to it, sucking into the tender skin so hard it breaks, leaving a purple bruise behind.

He winces as you move to the next one, sucking harder and harder each time, desperately trying to erase the past. Observing this, Mingyu's face softens. A gentle, guilty smile stretches past his lips and he brings a hand to pat the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair to pull you closer- flush against his bare chest.

A yelp escapes you as you lose your balance, falling forward into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you still as he says-

"I'm yours," He squeezes around you, nuzzling into your neck, "I can't change the past, and I'm sorry for everything I've done- sorry for hurting you the way I did"

You can feel how rapidly his heart thuds against his chest, beating on the door of his ribcage as if it wants to be let out, as if it wants to jump out of his chest, into your hands.

"it hurts," you sniffle, "it really hurts"

His fingers rub soothing circles into your skin, trying to melt away your pain, feeling his own heart shatter into a million pieces. This is of his own doing, though. Only he is to blame.

"lemme make you feel good, hm? let me show you how much you really mean to me,"

You nod, letting him move you as he pleases, until you're under him, nestled comfortably between the pillows, with him hovering over you. The veins of his forearms tense deliciously as they hold his weight, and you feel your body grow hot.

Soft moans slip out of your mouth when he lowers his face into the crook of your neck, sucking red marks into you- gentle, yet firm. His lips suction your skin, teeth nipping at the chosen spot until your skin breaks, before letting his tongue soothe over the crimson bruise.

Like this, he carves a path down your neck to the collar of your shirt, stopping right at your cleavage.

"this okay, my love?" he stares up at you, one hand shifting to tickle the hem of your shirt

"mhm"

Gently, like you're made of glass, he undresses you, gasping when he realises that you're bare underneath.

Your skin catches him off-guard, and Mingyu finds himself transfixed. Like an anchorite discovering the face of God, he stares at you in wonder, in awe, finally feeling complete.

The intensity of his stare has you nervous, and you lift your arms to cover yourself.

"do-don't stare," you mumble, cheeks growing hot as his eyes burn holes into your skin.

"can't help myself- you're so beautiful,"

"Mingyu please," you whimper, feeling wetness pool between your legs, "I need you"

Feverish hands roam over you, and his head dips into the valley of your breasts, pressing soft, wet kisses to your skin. Mingyu closes in on your breast, letting his teeth nip gently at your hardened nipple, and you gasp, feeling your body light up at the motion.

He grins against you, repeating the action and you let out a trembling whimper.

"don't tease" you plead, threading your fingers through his hair, "need you so bad Gyu,"

"I could kiss you all my life and never get enough,"

Enough said. You tug him up, pushing your lips together once again in a messy kiss. Mingyu grinds into you, and you gasp at the prominent bulge poking out of his trousers. He uses this to his advantage, pushing his tongue into you, letting the wet muscle trace over the corners of your mouth as if to memorise every texture, every taste.

You chest flutters, and you whimper into his mouth, almost losing your composure when he begins to carve a path from your lips to your stomach, leaving gentle kisses down your collarbones, chest, tummy.

Stopping at the waistband of your shorts, Mingyu looks up at you, eyes practically begging that you allow him to undress you.

"please" you whisper, head tipping back into the pillows when his hands smooth down your sides, hooking under your shorts to pull them off. Keeping his eyes trained on yours, he tugs the fabric down, tantalisingly slow.

The sensuality, the intimacy of this act finally becomes known to you, when your eyes stay stitched together, as if connected by string.

Once you're left completely bare, at his mercy, he kneels.

At the foot of the bed, as if it is your alter, Mingyu kneels, letting your ankles rest on his broad shoulders. He presses tender kisses to your limbs; ankles, calves, thighs, making his way up to his very own pot of gold.

Liquid gold.

"baby you're dripping-" he groans, almost frustrated with how stunning you look, splayed out and wet, all for him.

His kisses inch closer and closer, moving from your thighs to the tender flesh right next to your sex.

You know what comes next.

"oh"

Your lips part, settling into an 'o' shape, when Mingyu licks a long, fat stripe up your slit, stopping at your clit to prod gentle circles with the tip of his tongue.

For a man who's hasn't as much as kissed you before, he sure knows how to work your body.

Perhaps you were just made for one another.

You feel the thick trickle of arousal seeping out of your hole, and Mingyu laps it up, letting his tongue dip into you slightly, curling up to cup every last drop.

"fuck you taste divine," he groans, voice low and gruff, "better than everything I've imagined-"

Your heart swells.

"you thought abou- f-fuck Mingyu right there"

He smirks against your cunt, humming a quick affirmation that sends a jolt up your spine.

"thought of you every night, wanted to hold you, feel you-"

You gasp, gulping thickly at his words, and your mind grows fuzzy, filled with cotton as you feel your body beginning to float away.

Mingyu brings his lips around your clit, suctioning the sensitive bud out of its hiding as his tongue laps at it. Your grip on his hair tightens, and your mouth hangs open- whimpers slipping out, beyond your control.

Without warning, Mingyu slips a finger into you, pushing his way in. Your back arches off the bed, and your hips snap up, but he holds you down, basking in the long drawn moan he manages to rip from your throat.

The stretch of your walls around his digit has you whimpering and writhing under him, and you can't help but wonder how big his cock is, how it would split you open for good if his fingers are already almost too much.

As if he read your thoughts, Mingyu winces at the way you suck him in.

"so fuckin' tight-" he gasps, jaw dropping in awe at how your tiny little cunt stretches to accomodate a single finger.

With the way Mingyu worked his tongue against you, and his finger into you, it's no wonder your orgasm begins to build. You feel your body tense, on the verge of release, limbs and stomach tightening as he works against you.

"please- don't sto- oh" you shudder when his tongue presses harder.

The great wave of pleasure rises, up and up, higher and higher, ready to come crashing down any moment now, when suddenly, he plunges a second finger into you, ripping your orgasm out of you with such force, your legs tremble as a string of moans and profanities leave your parted lips.

Mingyu scissors into you, fucking you through your orgasm, as your arousal drips down his fingers, down his wrist. Your legs shake uncontrollably as he pistons in and out of you, and you shudder.

"w-wait I'm still-"

"sensitive? mm I can tell" he smirks, lowering his face back to your cunt, tongue lapping at your juices eagerly.

He prods the muscle into you, bullying it's way beside his fingers to collect the remnants of your orgasm.

"fu-" you gasp, feeling your body convulse.

Cupping his tongue, Mingyu drags your wetness up your folds, spreading it over your clit before licking firm circles around the sensitive bud.

You moan, helplessly, and your body is ablaze, nerves standing on edge from the intensity of your previous orgasm.

As he continues his assault on your overstimulated sex, you feel another orgasm build at record speed.

Feeling you clench up around his fingers, Mingyu pushes harder, licking tighter circles into your clit, and you come undone within seconds- shocking both yourself and him.

"that's it, that's my good girl," he sighs, secretly in awe of how responsive you are to his touch.

He pulls his fingers out of you, and you whimper at the sudden loss.

"patience," he soothes, tongue trailing up his wrist to the tip of his finger, taking in your arousal.

Your breath hitches at his actions.

"you taste too fucking good to waste any of this"

Rising off the floor, he licks his lips, staring down at you with adoration painted plain as day on his handsome face.

His knee presses between your legs, and you feel the bed dip under his weight. Swift hands unbuckle his belt, undoing the clasp with one hand while the other works at his buttons.

Before you know it, Mingyu's pants are off, leaving him in plain black boxers and an opened shirt. He peels his top off, tossing it to the side, staring into your eyes.

"you can touch," he rasps, tugging you up to sit before his naked torso.

Your body listens before your brain can comprehend his words, and you let his hand pull your wrist up, placing your palm flush against his abs.

Your jaw drops.

He's rock solid. Years of hard work and dedication have defined the ridges of his muscles, and your mouth waters at the sight. You trace over each contour, each ridge, before turning your attention to his arms.

Those were another story altogether...

The thick, sturdy flesh of his biceps tense under your touch, rippling as your fingers pushing into them, testing how firm they really are.

answer: very.

Your nails rake down his arm, drawing over his veins, and he sucks in a sharp breath, feeling his cock grow painfully hard.

You notice, and tug his boxers off, gasping when you see his cock spring free.

It's huge. It's long and thick and veiny, flushed red at the tip with pent up energy. You bring your hand to stroke it as gently as possible, and he hisses, hips startling when you make contact with his dick

"baby," he pleads, using one hand to cup your jaw, tilting your head up to face him, "say it again"

You're confused for a moment before realisation hits.

He wanted you to say that you-

"I love you," you state, loud and clear.

His eyes darken, jaw tensing as he grits out, "again."

Mingyu pushes you down, laying you on your back, and you speak, voice meeker than before.

"I love you,"

He let's out a shaky breath.

"again"

"I love y-"your voice is a whisper now, cutting off into a stunned gasp when he pushes into you.

"oh my god," you tremble, your voice small and frail.

The girth of his cock is nothing like you've ever felt before- not with other men, not even with the toys you use. He eases himself into your tight cunt, going as slowly as his body let's him, and your eyes screw shut.

"uh uh, eyes on me,"

You look up at him, eyes wide as your brows scrunch up. Your jaw falls slack, and you can't stop your throat from opening up to release the filthiest sounds known to man.

"that's it, shh- takin' me so good," he shudders, eyes honed in on the way your face contorts in pleasure.

With each inch his pushes further, your thoughts disappear one by one, until all that's left is him.

"Mingyu" you choke out, nails clawing at his exposed back, "I love you"

Whatever seemed to have been holding him back snaps for good, and he bottoms out in one swift motion, earning a loud moan in response.

You feel your lungs burn as he pulls all the air out of you, feel how deep he is inside you.

Mingyu pulls out, leaving only the head of his cock inside you, before slamming back in, one hand on your hip, pulling your body closer, harder.

His head drops to the spot below your ear and he let's his teeth graze the delicate cartilage.

"I love you," he whispers, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "I love you so much,"

Angling his hips, he pulls your thighs up over his back, and his cock burrows deeper inside you, hitting a spot no one ever has before.

"Mingy- oh my godd" you drawl, voice shaking as he thrusts into you with force enough to power a tiny village.

The sheer girth of his cock has your walls pressing into him, squeezing so tight you can feel each ridge and furrow of his veins.

"so fuckin' perfect- m-made just for me-" His voice is a whisper. He pants into your ear, groaning everytime you squeeze around him.

The solid, steady snap of his hips into you has your head spinning. His size has you losing your mind, and soon enough, you're thoughts are limited to him.

"Mingyu Mingyu Mingyu-" you sob, tears streaming down your face at how he abuses your cunt, how he makes you feel so fucking good.

"I know, pretty, I know," he soothes, pressing a kiss to the spot under your ear, before pulling himself up to look at you again.

The sight before him has his eyes widening. It's as if his world stops. Hair fluttering around your face, skin glistening with a thin film of sweat, lips red and parted as you moan his name through thick sobs and teary, glistening eyes- fuck, how could a person be this beautiful?

"I love you," he shudders, looking you in the eye as his hand trails down to fiddle with your clit, rubbing lazy circles into the flesh.

Your head falls back, tipping into the pillows, and you choke out a strangled- "I love y- m'all yours Mingyu"

Gaining newfound access to your throat, Mingyu kisses greedily at the exposed skin, groaning as your cunt clenches down around him.

Your sounds- nothing short of pure sin- echo around the room, bouncing off the walls. The air is heavy, steaming up with the heat emanating off of your bodies. After all this time, the wait is over. He's finally yours.

As your moans turn shrill, increasing in volume and pitch, Mingyu's own voice grows breathier, and you know you're both close.

On the verge of falling deep into the cool black embrace of pleasure, you clutch desperately at each other, rutting into one another as if there was no tomorrow.

His thrusts grow sloppy as your cunt clamps down on him, and you feel your orgasms rip out of you like a whirlwind. You claw at his back as your body shakes under him, releasing your third orgasm, and he groans deeply into, riding through his own high.

Hot spurts of cum dribble out of you, forming a frothy white ring around the base of his cock- still thrusting into you.

"f-fuck Ming- please," you blubber, tears staining your cheeks, "s'too much-"

His hips halt their reckless movement, and he pulls out of you, watching as your combined orgasms trickle out of your hole.

"too much?" he asks, bringing a hand up to stroke you cheek so lovingly your heart melts.

"mhm," You nuzzle into his palm, "but it was perfect."

For a moment he stares into your eyes, guilt panging in his chest at how you look at him with so much love, despite all that he's done.

"we'll talk over breakfast tomorrow, hm? let's just- let's just stay like this for now"

You nod, letting your eyes flutter closed, and he shuffles beside you, pulling your limp frame into his chest.

The haphazard thudding of his heart tells you how nervous he is, how he's afraid to lose you, and you smile.

"hey," he mumbles, sleep taking over.

You hum and it reverberate in his chest.

"I love you"

"I love you too, Gyu"

"I'll spend the rest of my life making up for how we started," he places a soft kiss to your forehead and you mumble something incomprehensible, already drifting off to sleep.

A fond smile takes over his lips, and he sighs.

You're the best thing to have happened to him.

#seventeen #seventeen smut #svt smut #smut #kim mingyu #anon ask #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu #mingyu is an asshole but he feels bad #kpop writers #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #seventeen mingyu

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lvrdrafts · 10 months

Text

No Time To Lose

Summary: Bucky is going to confront you for why you have been avoiding him but when he comes home he finds out you have been kidnapped

Warning: Mentions of kidnapping and torture

Part 1 Part 3

Bucky couldn't bear the growing distance between you any longer. He knew he had to talk to you and stop the tension that had been building. The constant absence of your touch, your laughter, and your presence had made him realize just how much he needed you.

One evening, as he mustered up the courage to have the conversation, he decided to surprise you at home. He wanted to show you that whatever he did wrong he deeply regrets it and stop whatever had caused this sudden change in your behavior.

However, when Bucky entered the apartment, he found it eerily quiet. The atmosphere felt heavy, and his heart clenched with a sense of foreboding. He called out your name, but there was no response.

Panic surged through his veins as he quickly searched every room, hoping to find you. It was then that he noticed something off—a broken vase on the floor, shattered glass scattered across the room.

Bucky's hands trembled as he desperately dialed your number, hoping against hope that you would answer. But each ring went unanswered, intensifying his anxiety. Fear gnawed at his heart as he realized something was terribly wrong. Where were you? Why weren't you picking up?

Unable to waste any more time, Bucky quickly dialed Sam's number, his voice filled with urgency. "Sam, it's Y/N. She's in trouble. I can't reach her, and I don't know where she is. I need your help."

Sam's voice conveyed his concern as he responded, "Don't worry, Bucky. I'm on my way. We'll find her together. Just hold on."

Bucky's mind replayed every moment, every conversation, searching for any signs he might have missed. Anything that could show what had happen to you. Bucky's mind raced with worry as they searched for any sign of your whereabouts. Doubt gnawed at his thoughts, questioning every decision he had made leading up to this moment. Did I miss any signs that something was wrong? Should I have noticed your distress sooner?

But as the minutes ticked by, Bucky's conviction grew stronger. Deep down, he knew you would never willingly leave him without a word. Your love had been genuine, your connection real. It didn't make sense that you would simply disappear without a trace. His gut told him that something was terribly wrong.

That is when he saw Sam walk in with a computer in his hand. "Well I asked the landlord for the security cameras and he was happy to give it to Captain America." Sam says laughing trying to lighten the mood as he sits down, but no reaction from Bucky. "Well what did you find?" Bucky says eagerly. "I see that Y/N got captured while heading in, but its a little blurry to see the number plate." Sam says while showing Bucky "But I do know someone who can get it, wait here." Sam walks out to make a phone call.

The guilt intensified, a suffocating presence that threatened to consume him. He blamed himself for not being there, for not protecting you when you needed him the most. His mind raced with a barrage of "what ifs" and self-recrimination.

Sam comes back awhile later to inform Bucky he found where Y/N is held captive and they rush off to find you.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Y/N's heart raced as she found herself trapped, held captive by Brock. She knew Bucky would come for her, and she held onto that hope tightly. But the more Brock tortured he, she felt as if all that hope was slipping away.

"Poor, poor Y/N I really thought your boyfriend would save you" Brocks says putting a knife near your neck. "I can't believe he would let someone as precious as you thrown away"

"I don't give a fuck what you believe" you say spitting at brock

Brock punches you and you feel blood come out of your moth. "You need to learn to not be a bitch, before we can play". You can see the look Brock gave you and it didn't make you feel good. He starts to walk away and comes back with collar and puts it on you. You try moving your neck but you feel a sudden pain of electrical shocks.

He lifts your chin up "You better hope your boyfriend comes in time, because a few more shocks and your dead" he says with a smile while he walks outs.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

A few hours later you see the door open in but the tears in your eyes make it hard for you to make out the figure. There was so many of Brock's henchman here you couldn't tell which one was Brock or not.

That is when she caught a glimpse of Bucky hiding behind some crates. Bucky gave you a soft smile while he disapeared into the dark.

However, luck seemed to elude him as a creaking floorboard betrayed his presence. The sudden sound alerted Brock's henchmen, who immediately converged on Bucky, trapping him within their grasp. Bucky's heart raced as he found himself outnumbered, but he refused to back down.

As the first henchman lunged at him, Bucky swiftly dodged the attack. He retaliated with a powerful punch, sending his assailant crashing into a nearby wall. But there was no time to savor the victory as the others closed in, their fists flying.

Amidst the chaos, Bucky caught a glimpse of Sam swooping down from above. The familiar wings of his Falcon suit glinted in the darkness.

You saw while Bucky was fighting the henchman, Sam was taking you out of the facility and to the hospital. "You okay there, were almost to the hospital, then I'll go back for buck" Sam says holding you tightly as he brings you to the hospital. But you eyes start to close slowly, you didn't want to hold on for life anymore, you didn't want to be Bucky's burden, you just wanted some peace.

@vicmc624 @cjand10 @marygoddessofmischief @matchat3a @blue-chup @floralwsloki @kentokaze @internet-infuencer @666yourmomdotcom @zzziea @maddieislost @madi-is-kinda-lame @openup-yourmind @almosttoopizza @specialsnowflake-gabbi

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #james barnes x reader #james barnes x reader angst #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #lvrdrafts bucky barnes x reader #lvrdrafts bucky barnes x reader angst

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talaok · 9 months

Text

Our own

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: After spending the day with Tommy and Maria, you can’t help but notice how great Joel is with their baby, and a thought sparks your mind.

Listen I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I proofread this ok? I'm an honest woman. You may forgive me or not, either way, I'm going to sleep. Bye loves

The sun was high in the sky, birds were chirping, a soft breeze was flowing through your hair... and Tommy was taking his goddamn time opening the goddamn door.

"I told you you should have gone to the bathroom when we left" Joel chuckled by your side

"Now's really not the time Jo-"

Your next words got stuck in your throat as the sound of the lock opening caught your attention.

"Hey guys, I'm sorry the bab-"

"don't worry" you immediately stopped him, feeling your bladder about to burst "Could I use your bathroom?"

He did a poor job of concealing his surprise.

"Uh-Yea sure, it's right up there on the-"

You flew past him, only half minding where his finger was pointing.

"left" he mumbled, an amused smile creeping on his lips as he let his gaze travel to his brother

Joel shrugged, a similar grin tugging at his own lips "I told her to go before we went out"

__ __ __

You walked out of the bathroom feeling like a brand new woman, ready to face whatever life threw at you, which in this case... was following the sound of laughter coming from the backyard.

What appeared on the other side of the window, was a perfect portrait of a happy family.

Tommy and Maria's smiles were brighter than any star in the sky as they watched Eithan, their baby boy, cradled in Joel's arms, looking almost comically small next to his biceps.

And Joel... Joel had a look on his face you had never quite seen. It wasn't just joy, or adoration... there was something in his eyes, in the way his mouth twitched as the baby's small hands reached for his nose, as he caressed his cheek and willed his hands to act as if he were touching porcelain.

You could not put a finger on what it was, but you couldn't either understand what was happening to you.

A warmth had taken over your chest, cheeks... your entire body. And something was fluttering in your belly, it wasn't butterflies no, it was more like- like bunnies, countless little bunnies hopping in your stomach and twisting and turning your insides.

It was perhaps the first time in your life your body had understood something before you could.

A wave brought you back to reality, to life, to the portrait before your eyes.

It was Maria, Maria was waving at you to come out with them, so, of course, you did, begging your legs not to give up on you as the same strange sensation threatened your every step.

"hey" You managed "Sorry for before"

"don't even bother, I'm used to it by now" Tommy huffed out a laugh, nudging Maria by his side

She rolled her eyes dramatically, her mouth betraying her as its edges turned up.

"Ignore him," she said, "please sit, I've been dying to talk to another human being without having to use a baby voice"

You snorted, taking your place next to Joel at the round wooden table.

"That bad huh?"

"God you have no idea..."

Maria went on to talk, about Eithan about... something, but your attention had moved elsewhere by the time she was done with the first sentence.

You watched Joel softly rocking the baby, the smile on his face, the glint in his eyes, and you couldn't help but think

God, how I wish it was our own

__ __ __

"Are you ok darlin'?"

Joel's voice startled you enough to make you gasp.

You had been in your own head for so long that you hadn't even realized you had walked all the way home.

"yeah, why?"

"you've just been real quiet, 's all"

he shrugged, closing the front door behind him.

"I'm fine- Everything's fine," you said a bit too quickly, walking to the kitchen while purposely avoiding his eyes

The footsteps behind you told you he hadn't taken the hint, and was following you.

"what's going on?"

You reached for a glass and filled it up to the brim only to realize you weren't even a little bit thirsty.

"nothing" you mumbled, setting the glass on the counter and finally meeting his scrutinizing gaze "It's nothing" you shook your head

"sweetheart..." he walked until he stood in front of you "Whatever it is you can tell me, y'know?"

Your mouth opened and closed but no sound had come out.

"I just-" you bit your bottom lip "it's nothing, really, it's stupid"

A soft smirk rose from his lips "Now that I don't believe, nothing stupid has ever come out of that petty mouth" One of his rough fingers went to trace your cupid bow "C'mon now, darlin' what is it?"

"I-" you tried, before retracing immidately "You have to promise not to laugh, or freak out... or do anything that isn't reacting calmly"

He couldn't help the frown creasing his forehead "I promise" he swore nonetheless.

"Ok" you took a small breath.

This wasn't gonna be easy, not with his past, not with everything he had to endure, not with him.

"I-I watched you today with Eithan, and-well-I-" You shut your eyes, unable to take more of his big brown eyes boring into yours

"What, sugar?"

"Well, it- it made me think"

Something flashed behind his eyes

"About what?"

You swallowed the sand in your mouth "About how great of a dad you'd be" you murmured "to our own child"

Now was his turn to be at a loss for words.

He looked at you, so many thoughts, memories, and fears swirling in his mind that he could have fainted, if it wasn't of course, for you, for the expression on your face, for the hope and anxiety painting your every perfect inch.

It was a mess, his brain was a mess, everything was a mess, and yet he'd never felt more sure.

he should have been scared, terrified even, but all he could feel was joy.

"I know it's crazy" you spoke "With what's going on and everything... and I know we already have Ellie in a way... and I know it must be difficult because of what happened to Sarah, and it's completely ok if you don't want to, I understand, really, so please don't feel pressured to-"

"sweetheart"

one word was all it took for him to stop your rambling.

You looked up at him, catching your reflection in the hazel pool of his eyes.

"yes?"

"There is nothing more I'd love in this world than to have a baby with you"

"a-are you sure, b-because as I sai-"

He chuckled, his forehead falling to yours and his hands holding your face.

"darlin'" he paused, a smile on his lips "believe me, I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything in my life"

A breath got caught in your throat as fireworks went off somewhere in your brain.

"Yeah?" was all you could master

"yeah" he laughed, his lips meeting yours in a mess of tears, teeths and laughters "We're gonna have a baby"

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x fem reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x fem!reader #Pedro Pascal characters

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talkdutchtome · 6 months

Text

Glitch- chapter three

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

warning . . . tbd )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . it's been a while but chapter three is here, i'm so sorry for how long it took )

Things between Mason and Y/N only seemed to get worse after he found out that she had given her number to Max; to say she was confused about the whole situation would be putting it lightly. Mason had made it clear that he didn’t feel a thing for her, he was furious that she had feelings for him, so why would he have an issue if something happened between her and Max. His attitude was not simply aimed at Y/N either, he was just pissed off at Max. When Max inevitably qualified on pole and Mason had to present him with the pole award, he did so with a face like thunder and an attitude so bad that even the members of staff that had to deal with him clearly saw that something was wrong. And if Y/N thought his mood was bad during qualifying, it was nothing compared to how he acted during the race.

The group of four were sat watching the race in the Red Bull garage and whilst Y/N, Ben and Reece tried their best to immerse themselves in the excitement of the race; it was hard to do with Mason sat beside them in a brooding silence. His foul mood had extended beyond his interactions with Y/N too; even Ben and Reece, usually recipients of his lively banter, found themselves met with curt responses and icy glares. It was hard to shake off the tension, especially when Mason's frustration seemed palpable. Every attempt at conversation was met with monosyllabic responses or outright silence.

As the laps passed and the tension escalated, Reece, who could tell just how uncomfortable Y/N was, decided to break the ice. Leaning over to her, he spoke in a hushed tone, "Hey, Y/N, you alright? Mason seems like he's in a mood today."

She nodded, a small, forced smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I don't know what's gotten into him. He’s just so angry I don’t know what to do.”

Reece sighed sympathetically. "He'll come around. Just give him some time."

But as the race unfolded, tension in the garage reached its peak. When Max secured the victory, the cheers from everyone in the garage were met with a stark contrast from Mason. His jaw clenched, and he rolled his eyes in frustration, clearly annoyed that Max had won, a stark change from usual races where he cheered Red Bull along.

Y/N exchanged puzzled glances with Ben and Reece, who shared her confusion at Mason's sudden change of allegiance. The atmosphere was palpably strained, and Y/N needed to get away from it all, so she found herself wandering away from the group as they headed towards the podium.

However, the silence that followed her being away from her friends only spurred her frustration at Masons behavior, and soon she just couldn’t cope without knowing and understanding why he was acting the way he was. So, determined to find some answers, she made her way through the crowded paddock, navigating the sea of people in their vibrant team colors. Spotting Mason engrossed in conversation with Ben and Recce, Y/N hesitated for a moment before steeling herself to confront the issue head-on.

As she approached, the murmur of their conversation grew more audible, and her heart sank when she overheard Mason's words. "I don't know what Y/N sees in that guy. He's a real prick, and I can't stand him," Mason grumbled to Ben and Recce, his frustration evident.

Confusion and hurt etched across Y/N's face. She couldn't understand why Mason would harbor such strong feelings towards Max, especially when he had made it abundantly clear that he didn't reciprocate her feelings. Before she could muster the courage to address Mason, Max's voice unexpectedly cut through the tension.

"Hey, you guys! Great race, huh?" Max approached the group, a wide grin on his face, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents of tension. Y/N glanced at Mason, who had abruptly shifted his expression into a forced smile. The contrast between his earlier resentment and his current attempt at friendliness was jarring.

Max’s energy was contagious as he approached the group with a wide grin.

"I'm throwing a little after-party to celebrate the win. You guys should come.”

Caught off guard, Y/N's eyes flickered to Mason, who wore a scowl and crossed arms. "We can't, man. We got some stuff lined up," Mason interjected, his tone sharp, making it clear he had no interest in joining the celebration.

Y/N hesitated, torn between Mason's obvious displeasure and Max's expectant gaze. The unspoken tension in the air was as thick as fog. Max, sensing the underlying dynamics, looked directly at Y/N, seeking confirmation. "You in, Y/N?"

She bit her lip, glancing at Mason before meeting Max's gaze. "Yeah, sure, I'll be there," she replied tentatively, a slight quiver in her voice. The decision was made, but the uncertainty lingered.

Mason's scowl deepened, and the air became even heavier. Y/N, sensing the disapproval, fidgeted uncomfortably. She didn't want to escalate the tension, but at the same time, she couldn't let Mason dictate her every move; not when he made it abundantly clear he didn’t even seem to like her as a friend anymore.

As Max walked away to extend the invitation to others, Mason shot Y/N a stern look. "Really? You're going to his party?"

Y/N sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "Mason, it's just a party. It's not a big deal." Reece and Ben exchanged looks, clearly feeling baffled by the scene playing out in front of them.

Mason, however, wasn't convinced. "I don't get why you're so eager to hang out with him."

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Max seems nice, I like him”

Mason's expression remained hardened, but he didn't press the matter further. Instead choosing to just walk away from her, almost as if he couldn’t even bare to look at her

In the dimly lit hotel bar, Mason sat slouched on a barstool, nursing a drink between sips. Ben and Reece sat either side of him, exchanging concerned glances as they observed the weight on Mason's shoulders. The earlier anger that had etched lines on his face had given way to a profound sadness, leaving Mason looking like a shadow of his usual self.

Reece cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence that hung over the trio. "Mate, you've been quiet all night. Everything alright?"

Mason took a deep breath, staring into the amber depths of his drink. "I don't know, man. It's just... everything's a mess."

Ben chimed in, "Is this about Y/N and Max? Look, Mason, it might not be such a bad thing. If they get together, you won't have to worry about her having feelings for you anymore."

Mason's eyes flickered with a hint of conflict, but he nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's just..." He trailed off, his shoulders slumping.

Reece leaned in, genuine concern etched on his face. "Spill it, mate. Why are you so bothered that Y/N and Max are getting along? You've made it clear you don't see her that way."

Mason sighed, his guard momentarily slipping. "It's not about that. I'm worried about Max. He's got a bit of a reputation with women, and I don't want Y/N getting hurt."

Ben nodded in understanding, but Reece wasn't convinced. "Mate, I've known you for years. Something's not adding up. Are you sure that's all there is to it?"

Mason hesitated, his eyes betraying a depth of emotion he hadn't intended to reveal. "I just... It's complicated, okay? I don't want to see her get hurt, and I don't want things to get even messier than they already are."

Ben placed a reassuring hand on Mason's shoulder. "We get it, mate. Just look out for your friend. If you think Max is trouble, it's good that you're keeping an eye out."

As Mason nodded in agreement, a pang of conflicting emotions welled up within him. In the quiet recesses of his thoughts, he wondered if, perhaps, he wasn't as indifferent to Y/N's feelings as he had convinced himself.

Meanwhile, the after-party pulsed with vibrant energy as Max and Y/N found themselves in the heart of the celebration. The music thumped in harmony with the beats of their hearts, and the dimly lit venue became a backdrop to a night that seemed to be unfolding like a story.

The pair, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and a few well-timed drinks, found themselves drawn to each other, their conversation charged with a playful flirtation that danced on the edges of something more. Max's charm and Y/N's quick wit created a dynamic that was both intriguing and infectious.

As the night progressed, Y/N began to meet more and more of Max’s friends. The atmosphere was filled with laughter and animated chatter as Y/N navigated the introductions, each friend offering a unique glimpse into Max's life beyond the racetrack. The genuine warmth and camaraderie among Max's friends added a layer of connection to the night, making Y/N feel more at home in the bustling celebration.

Later in the evening, Max and Y/N found a quieter corner of the venue, away from the pulsating beats and the lively crowd. The chemistry between them lingered in the air, and the flirtation that had been bubbling beneath the surface finally came to the forefront.

Max, his gaze unwavering, leaned in with a playful grin. "You know, you're making it hard to focus on anything but you tonight."

Y/N chuckled, her cheeks flushed from the mix of excitement and a few drinks. "Is that so? I could say the same about you, Max."

Their banter continued, creating a bubble of intimacy that shielded them from the surrounding festivities. As the night wore on, Max's friends occasionally joined their conversation, seamlessly weaving Y/N into the fabric of their tight-knit group.

Amidst the laughter and shared stories, Max's gaze turned more sincere. "You're different, Y/N. I really like being around you. Can I see you again?”

Y/N, a mix of surprise and contemplation on her face, considered the question. "I'd like that, Max, but I don’t exactly live local, do I?” she said with a chuckle, still slightly taken aback by his forwardness.

Max nodded, his eyes reflecting determination. "Well, I'm in the UK quite a bit for factory work. It could work out."

After a moment's pause, Y/N agreed, a smile playing on her lips. "Alright then, yeah. Let me know when you're in town, and we'll take it from there."

The vibrant energy of the after-party gradually faded as Y/N decided it was time to call it a night. The music softened, and the laughter in the venue became a distant echo as she made her way back to the hotel. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, the events of the night playing out in her head like a movie reel.

As she entered her hotel room, she noticed a text message from Mason. "Are you back at the hotel?" it read. She sighed, typing a quick "Yes" in response. Truthfully, she couldn’t deal with anymore of Mason’s childish tantrums today, but she just couldn’t find it in herself to ignore him. A few minutes later, there was a knock at her door. Y/N hesitated before opening it, finding Mason standing there, a complicated mix of emotions written across his face.

She let him in, the tension palpable in the air. Mason's eyes avoided hers as he walked past her and took a seat on her bed, he seemed unable to find the right words. Minutes passed, but Mason remained silent, the awkwardness growing with each passing second. The atmosphere in the room became thick with unspoken words, and Y/N could no longer contain her frustration.

"What is your problem?" she burst out, her voice a mix of anger and hurt. "First, you completely ice me out, then you get pissed at me for giving my number to Max, and now you've come into my room in the middle of the night and you're just sitting there in silence. What the fuck do you want from me? I'm sorry for how I feel; I know it makes things awkward, but I never expected you to feel the same way or to want me. I just don't understand why it means you have to treat me like shit. You’re supposed to be my best friend."

Mason, still avoiding eye contact, took a deep breath before finally speaking. "You are my best friend, the person in the world I'm closest to, and I was scared that because of how you feel, we couldn't be friends anymore."

The raw honesty in his words caught Y/N off guard. She took a step back, studying his face, and saw a vulnerability she hadn't expected. The room fell silent again as they both grappled with the weight of their unspoken feelings.

Y/N took a deep breath, the intensity of the moment hanging between them. "Mason, you can't just shut me out when things get complicated. We've been through too much for that."

Mason nodded, the weight of his actions evident in the lines on his face. "I know, and I'm sorry. I should have talked to you instead of pushing you away."

"Why did you get so upset about Max?" Y/N asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and frustration.

Mason hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I guess I was worried. Max has a bit of a reputation, and I didn't want to see you get hurt."

Y/N's expression softened, understanding the concern beneath Mason's actions. "You could have just told me that instead of treating me like I did something wrong."

Mason nodded again, acknowledging her point. "I messed up, Y/N, and I'm sorry for that."

The room fell into a heavy silence as Y/N processed Mason's apology. After a moment, she sighed, a mix of emotions playing across her face. "I appreciate the apology, Mason, but you need to trust me. I can handle my own feelings, and I value our friendship too much to let it be ruined by something like this."

Mason nodded once more, a genuine sense of regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry for acting out. I don't want to lose you as a friend."

Y/N felt a sense of closure in his words. "Let's just put this behind us. We can figure things out, but you can't shut me out like that again, okay?"

As the weight of their conversation lifted, Y/N and Mason found themselves in an uncertain but hopeful truce. Y/N, moved by Mason's apology, decided to bridge the lingering gap between them. She reached out for a hug, an unspoken acknowledgment of forgiveness and a desire to move forward.

Mason hesitated for a moment before reciprocating, his arms enveloping Y/N in a tentative embrace. The hug was warm, a silent reassurance that their friendship could weather the storms that had momentarily shaken its foundation. Y/N could feel the tension dissipating as they held each other, and for a moment, everything seemed to be okay.

However, as they lingered in the embrace, Mason's mind was in turmoil. A wave of conflicting emotions swept over him, and an unsettling realization settled in the pit of his stomach. He started to question the nature of his feelings for Y/N, wondering if there was more to their connection than just friendship.

Internally, Mason panicked. This wasn't a revelation he was prepared for, and the timing seemed utterly inconvenient. He tried his best to maintain the facade of casual friendship during the hug, desperately suppressing any hint of the internal storm raging within him.

Y/N pulled away, smiling warmly. "Thank you for apologizing, Mason. I really appreciate it."

Mason managed a tight-lipped smile in return, the internal turmoil hidden behind his eyes. "Yeah, of course. Friends, right?"

"Friends," Y/N affirmed, her expression one of genuine warmth.

Tag list-

@nightlockcornucopia @jaydensluv @girlytots19 @formula1mount @alwaysclassyeagle @aundercover @sofifiia @dessxoxsworld @lpab @lorarri @thelovehypothesis @torrie421 @ironmaiden1313 @celesteblack08 @glow-ish @urfavouritef1girly @alwaysclassyeagle @barnestatic @simxican @formula1mount @charli123456789 @mac-daddy-210 @lazybot @imguce @azxulaa @mehrmonga @sunny44 @skepvids @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @chimchimjiminie16 @tyna-19 @hoely-maria @stevesworld9 @f1lov3r @elliegrey2803 @heyyhelloohii @landosgirlxoxo @skepvids @aundercover @andydrysdalerogers @illicitverstappen @bbygrlllllll @kageyamama-hinatatata @imagandom @bibissparkles @sofifiia @dark-night-sky-99 @viennakarma

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #football x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fics #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

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mo0nfairy · 5 months

Text

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ A HOUSE IN NEBRASKA !

summary :: mike schmidt did not realize the weight of his mistake before it was too late. when he had first met you, his baby sister's beloved teacher, he couldn't imagine ever leaving you. with his aunt's demands to see her niece, however, he had no choice. now, a year later and two states over, everyday is spent suffocating on misery and memories. mike does not know how much more of this he can endure before he breaks.

word count :: 9.2k.

content warnings :: obsessive!mike, yandere!mike, fnaf movie spoilers, drugging, kidnapping, violence, stalking, & insinuations of s3x.

mike schmidt's yandere traits are . . .

obsessive, paranoid, & nervous

──── Everything is hazy.

Fuzzy. Blurry. Serenity in its sheerest form. The absolute definition of tranquility.

That April morning in Nebraska. The scent of sugar and crayons, the sounds of children playing outside, the scattered toys left on rainbow carpets. You're sat at the desk in your classroom. Warm light bleeding through the window behind you, framing you with flowering leaves and sunshine.

Across the room, Abby Schmidt sits on the floor. Her small fingers tap the glass enclosure where the class pet is. Mr. Cupcake, your iguana. Or, as you like to refer to him, your teaching assistant. His claws plunge into his food dish, copper-colored eyes scrutinizing his surroundings. Abby watches as the reptile chows on the fruit and foliage left for breakfast.

Sitting in the chair opposite your desk is Mike Schmidt. Sweat beads on his forehead, ineluctably distressed beneath your gaze. The suit he wore for this occasion juts uncomfortably into his skin. His fingers fidget with the trim of his tie. He looks at the woven basket of exotic butters sitting on your desk, wondering why he had gotten you such an aimless gift.

Mike is quiet, as usual. Austere, his permanent disposition. Despite his tireless efforts to express his thoughts to you, the words remain nestled in his throat. Conjuring any syllable in your presence is impossible.

You, however, do not have any wavering confidence. You reiterate the legal documents obligatory for Abby's complete transition to a new school. Noting how all necessities are now in your possession (albeit languidly, as Mike has been painfully trying to buy more time here), the relocation was complete. The obvious insinuation of your words, however, brings crippling dread like no other.

The last time you would ever see one another. Your goodbye.

Standing to your feet, you make your way to Abby and bend down beside her. You will miss your star student, as you have a soft spot for all the children in your classroom. In the process, you do not take notice of the way Mike instinctively reaches out to you. He's sure your touch would kill him, but it does not stop him from wishing for it. Even just a sliver of the precious rarity.

"I think Mr. Cupcake is going to miss you." Abby looks at you with wide, curious eyes.

"Don't tell the others, but you're definitely his favorite." That earns you a smile before she averts her attention back to the iguana.

When you stand, you find Mike breathing down your neck. Horrifically, as this memory still haunts him, he thought it'd be a good idea to hug you. And he practically throws his entire body weight on top of you. When you reject him by placing your hand on his chest, offering a handshake instead, fire spreads with your touch. Knowing he will never know what it feels like to hold you close to him is more excruciating than he is willing to admit.

Abby skips out of the classroom, an adorable pep in her step. At the same time, every step Mike takes from you feels like walking through an avalanche. Dragging him backward, begging to return to you. Almost as if it were his instinct, his body is trying to reject his advances of leaving you.

"Why do you always look at them like that? Like... Like they're a dinosaur or something?"

Abby's question causes Mike's brows to furrow. His feelings for you were certainly discernible. Even his young sister had taken notice of the odd behavior. Had he made it that obvious? He answers her with a weak, affirmative grunt. Too emotionally fatigued to find words to speak.

A sudden flare of biliousness deluges through his body. The hallway walls adorned with children's paintings have morphed into a colorful blur of vertigo. The floors disturbingly stretch in size, making the journey away from you all the more torturous. The suit he had tried to wear confidently sticks to his hot skin. Nausea squirms in his stomach like a dying cockroach. The room begins to spin, lights sway in his vision, and his knees fight for balance.

Mike hears his sister shriek his name before he falls to the ground.

One year later, Mike wakes from this same dream, once again.

Every night of this past year, he has dreamt the same thing. Your final goodbye and the sheer impact it took on him. It is a gut-wrenching memory, but he welcomes the echo of you with open arms. To feel your hand on his chest, see your eyes looking into his. This yearning heartache is the only thing keeping him alive.

For the umpteenth time, Mike faces the harsh, violent reality of his current life. Now, he is somewhere in Utah. Praying straight to God he'll somehow wake up back in Nebraska. Where he could see you again, where he could be happy again.

Tearing the headphones of his Walkman off, the song he had played on repeat comes to an end. He rubs his sleepy eyes. With newfound clarity, Mike shifts his gaze upwards. Taped to the ceiling is a drawing Abby drew. It's of you and him beneath a flowery altar, Mr. Cupcake as your marriage officiant. The picture aids him in his efforts to feel closer to you.

Mike doesn't even know how he survived seeing the drawing for the first time. Someone else validating his feelings for you and the realness of your nonexistent relationship was too much for him to handle. Even if it is a child doing so through a frivolous drawing.

When Mike shuffles over to place his Walkman on the bedside table, he skims over the assortment of clutter left there. Several bottles of sleeping medication had been indolently thrown onto the surface. The pills help his dreams feel more real, as though he were at your side once again.

A glance over, Mike's heart wrenches at the sight of the picture frame. Beside the mess of pills is a photograph of you he had torn from Abby's yearbook. As if you were watching over him while he slept, reaching out to him in the presence of his dreams. It's a comforting thought of his, to imagine you watching over him. Like his personal guardian angel.

Surely, he would prefer to have you physically with him, instead of just relying on these fantasies to hold him over. His stomach flutters at the mere idea of you being in his bed with him. Mike feels empty without your warm weight beside him.

Laying against his chest, huddling up to him for an early-morning cuddle before the day starts. He would ensnare his blanket around your still-sleeping form. He'd press ardent kisses to the top of your head and inhale the aromatic scent of your signature soap. Massaging his hands across your back. Caressing the balmy flesh of your body. It is the physical manifestation of nirvana brought directly into his palms.

Mike shakes the thoughts out as quickly as they come. So cheesy... What on Earth is he doing?

Although he has tossed around the idea of giving in and leaving Abby in their aunt's care, what kind of man would you think him as if he abandoned his family? And if he were to take Abby back to Nebraska, Social Services would surely hunt him down. The mere idea of being locked behind a prison cell is terrifying, but the prospect of never seeing you again provokes terror like no other.

Mike's head pounds as these thoughts haunt him. Reveries of brighter days in your presence, trepidation of being separate from you forever — this is how every morning usually begins. His dreams nestled in a nightmare. The chaos in his head brings him to where this story had begun altogether.

February. Two months before the last time he would ever see you.

Jane had demanded Abby live with her in Utah, threatening legal action in the process. Mike had no other choice but to succumb to her orders. It had begun as a minor inconvenience, considering his life in Nebraska was futile to begin with. However, it would soon become the worst decision he has ever made. He knows he should have fought harder, but Mike hadn't met you until after he verified their relocation. It wasn't until he had stepped foot into your classroom for the very first time had he realized the weight of his mistake.

With the start of his shift at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza approaching, he struggled to bring these rampant thoughts to rest. Resentfully, Mike rises from his bed. The sun has begun to set and his unsatisfactory power nap has come to an end. He trudges over to the foot of his bed and begins his usual set of push-ups. Triggering adrenaline through his body is essential to his daily routine. It helps ease his brain from all the chaos. An area he is in dire need of assistance.

For a moment, his thoughts are blank. It is such an oddity, that Mike is left stunned. Having a silent mind is a privilege that is unknown to him.

And just when he thought he had found coherence, the memory of you comes sprinting at him from the shadows. Mere seconds of emptiness pass before thoughts of you invade his mind.

A week after your final goodbye.

His disposition has suffered from a harsh descent since then. Mike is now irritable and aggressive to anyone who even faintly nudges his buttons. Snapping like a feral dog. Rough like a calloused hand.

Acknowledging weakness has never been his strong suit, but Mike is not a fool when it comes to how he feels around you. The overwhelming nerves stirred together with unwavering devotion make for a sugary-sweet, poisonous concoction. Something he could get drunk off for years to come.

Although his mind is stained in consideration, he cannot storm through the school doors and take you with him to Utah. Merely standing in your presence is enough to make him stop breathing. Contriving an abduction, one that includes you, no less, would fail miserably. And as he stated before, the prospect of being stuck behind bars and never seeing you again provokes terror like no other.

So, he gives in. He resentfully gives in to what his Aunt Jane wants and goes about his life.

There was only two more weeks before he'd leave his job as security at the mall forever. Mike meanders through the large expanse, actively averting his gaze from all the happy couples. Hands held together, eyes brimming with adoration, feeding each other ice cream. It never fails to make him bitter, which he prefers to assume it is because of how sappy the sight is.

He wonders what flavor of ice cream is your favorite, the look in your eye as he feeds you a spoonful. What kind of sweet words you'd give him and the way you'd blush when he drowns you in adoration. Within the safety of his mind, he has molded himself into the man of your dreams. You will just have to look past all the sweat and nerves to find him.

A flicker of movement captures his attention. Something strangely familiar in his peripheral. When he turns, his breath gets caught in his chest.

His wide eyes stare at you. Standing alone across the mall.

All Mike can do is gawk. Like a newly-born fawn, staring goggle-eyed and weak-kneed as he takes in the sight of the world for the very first time. A gasp of your name parts from his lips. He sways in his stance like a boat on the sea, his body melts like snow beneath the sunlight. Stood still in place, he feels that familiar sense of light-headedness return. He embraces the dizziness as a comfort, this time around.

Mike could almost laugh at this. At the same time, he could cry his heart out.

Of course, your roads would intersect. Of course, you would find each other in the end. Even when he had fully accepted he would never see you again, you return to him. Like a cloud of happier days, here to hide the torment for all.

And then, he's interrupted.

Walking uninvited into the scene is a stranger. A man approaches you, daring to drape his arm around your shoulder. Mike's eye twitches as he watches. The stranger then plants a kiss on your cheek, something Mike has wished to do since the first time he stepped foot in your classroom. With this man's hands all over you, the two of you begin to walk away.

The word "heartbroken" was something Mike had never felt before. It was something he never understood. He only heard of the word through brainless movies, where he swore he'd never let himself fall apart like the dumb characters do. At this moment, however, that term is stamped all over him in thick ink. A vivid exhibition of all the good and bad you have done to him.

Without another thought, Mike takes a step. Then another. Before he is breaking into a full sprint toward the love of his life and the parasite latched onto them. It's as if a puppeteer was controlling him, grasping hold of his spine and snatching a fistful of nerves. He shoves past any shoppers in his way, a few losing balance and falling to the floor. His speed accelerates with every hastening step, growing closer and closer.

The stranger looks over his shoulder a second too late before he is tackled. The two fall into an adjacent fountain with a loud clamor. Mike's fist clenches, before it surges down into his face. Then, he does it again and again and again.

Again. Again. Again.

And again.

Grunting like an animal, Mike can't stop himself.

Fuck you. Fuck you.

Fuck you.

Don't you ever fucking touch them.

It is blinding, how enraged he is. In a mess of blood and water. The mere thought of someone laying a finger on you boils red-hot rage like he has never felt before.

Someone ensnares their arms around him and drags him away from the mess he created. When the splashing water eases down to calm ripples, he finally looks over to you to ensure your safety and- who is that? A different person is standing there, utter horror plastered on their face as they watch the scene play out.

They have the same height, the same clothes, almost the same everything. But, now that Mike is able to scrutinize who he thought to be you, he realizes he was completely wrong. He had only formed a desperate personification of you from memory. What has he done?

The dread is soul-crushing as the weight of his mistake crushes him. Other bystanders watch in shock. Mike's fists are bruised red, his clothes are wet and stained with blood. What on Earth was he thinking!? All he ever wanted was to protect you! To protect you from men like that!

Mike's vision doubles and his body shivers. All he ever wanted was to protect you. The only thing he can think about is you and the sheer devastation you have rained down into his life.

This memory playing through his head is abruptly cut short. Mike is then forcefully shoved back into reality when his hand slips during his set of push-ups. He falls face-first into the carpet, grumbling from the harsh contact.

It is a vile memory to have, as it is the reason he lost his job at the mall and truly eradicated any chance of staying in Nebraska. However, it showed him how irrevocably devoted he is to you. How the feelings he has for you are completely and utterly real. Someone like him, who prides himself in being aloof and controlled, was capable of causing such calamity. All for your safety.

It was a terrifying revelation, but it soothed him in a way he had never felt before.

Michael Schmidt needs you.

And unfortunately, his feelings are not powerful enough to stretch into physical reality. Even though it feels as though they are capable of doing so, they cannot mold the world to bring him back to you. They cannot protect him from the inevitability of leaving his home and being dragged to Utah.

Now, he stands at the entrance of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Ivy grows amongst the bricked walls. Bright paint fades from years of neglect. Mike breathes in the scent of midnight brume as he unlocks the doors, trying once more to rid his brain of the thought of you.

The flashlight in his hands illuminates the inside of the pizzeria. Specks of dust permeate the air. Flashy arcade games are riddled with age. Toys on the prize shelf are covered in a blanket of cobwebs. The once gaudy carpets are caked with dirt. And those God-awful animatronics still stand on that rickety stage. Mike takes note of all these little things with a sigh. If this place was still alive today, he knows you'd adore taking your students here.

As his nights have been spent for the last year, he walks through the dilapidated establishment as usual. On the desk is a stack of chunky monitors displaying several angles of the pizzeria. The "CELEBRATE!" poster on the wall mocks him. He plops down on the adjacent swivel chair. The old fabric peels and the wheels whine from his weight.

Unzipping his ragged backpack, he grasps hold of the book he had taken with him, Dream Theory. Adjusting the headphones of his Walkman on his head, Mike then flicks the dog-ear over and resumes his reading.

God only knows how many times he has read this damned book. And every time he rereads it, he prays he can somehow find an anecdote for this torment. A magic step-by-step guide that will bring him back to you.

Despite perusing this book from front to back, he still searches for more. He hates being awake. He'd much rather be asleep, where he can return to you. Any second not spent with you, even if the moment is not tangible, is a second gone to waste. No matter what the circumstances are, he could only ever wish to be with you.

Lethargy hits Mike like a slap across the face. The book in his hands is now reminiscent of a brick. The song that plays on repeat in his Walkman soothes him like a mother's lullaby. All of these sensations embrace Mike; they pacify his brain and body of any unease. And with a few more leveled breaths, Dream Theory falls from his hands and he drifts off.

With a beat, he's woken up with a sharp gasp. This time, however, he does not awaken in the same dingy pizzeria. He finds himself sitting at a picnic table. Located in the very same forest he had lost his brother years ago.

Looking down, Mike finds he is dressed in the same hunter-green sweater and jeans stained with grass. His eyes scan around the expanse, searching for the faces of his family. He cannot find his mother, his father, nor Garrett. No one. Everything is to no avail.

There's a shuffle from behind him. He looks, only to find swaying trees and fluttering birds. And then, a voice.

"I'm sad to see you both go." The familiar cadence has Mike's head snapping back forward. He is struck with desperation.

There you are, sat across from him at the picnic table.

If it weren't for the campgrounds you were both at, this moment would be identical to when he first met you. In that same classroom, on that same day. Every mannerism and timbre of your voice is a picture-perfect copy of that moment. Same look in your eye, wearing the same clothes and bead bracelets your students made for you. Same everything.

It is a precious memory. To sit here with you feels so real, as though the heavens had answered Mike's prayers and brought him back to you.

"Abigail has always been a stellar student. I have no doubt she'll flourish in her new school."

Your smile makes his heart sink. Everyone always looks at him with anger. Not you, though. You're different.

"She does have a tendency to keep to herself. But, I think she'll adapt well to the new environment." He remembers every word from your mouth.

The emotions he was struck with when he first met you come back in a near-fatal rush. Irrepressible tension and rapture plunge through the barrier of his flesh. Practically a duplicate of the exact memory.

Going to a standard school meeting for his sister was an event Mike intended to do briefly. Getting it over as quickly as possible is his standard approach to most if not all, aspects of his life. This day, however, he was thrown in a whirlpool when he found himself wishing to stay with you. Leaving you felt like something he could not bear to endure.

Mike is abnormally pale, drenched in sweat, and mere seconds from passing out. You place your hand on his arm, inquiring him about if he was feeling alright. Hook, line, and sinker. Your mere touch sent him charging away from any perceived sanity he once possessed.

The strictly platonic concern you had for his well-being is addicting. To a point where Mike abandons all morals to indulge in these newfound feelings you give him. Once a poised man has now been reduced to a gooey puddle of sheer fervor.

All he can do is nod in response, completely entranced by the sight before him. You take his assurance hesitantly, before reaching into a basket of children's toys beside your desk. As this memory usually plays out, you retrieve a bear plushie. You then tell him of how it is Abby's favorite to play with and how you wish to gift it to her before your final goodbye. He agrees, of course. Nodding once more to compensate for his inability to speak.

In these woods, however, you show him that orange toy plane his brother treasured. His gaze remains latched to you as stand from the picnic table and walk away. To his utmost surprise, you then bend down beside Garrett. When you present him with the plane, he accepts your gift with childlike elation. He is quick to abandon his recent endeavors in favor of playing with his new toy.

You stand on foot, watching with an adoring smile as the young boy takes off. Mike watches you. An emotional, muddled intensity in his eyes.

"This isn't... This isn't how it happened... This isn't real." In his state of confusion, Mike has found the ability to speak.

He captures your attention and your gaze reverts to him. In response, his mouth goes dry and all coherent thought vanishes. Just one look from you and his entire capacity to speak is robbed, once again.

"But, it could be... It's what you want, isn't it?"

You are correct. You have always been veracious and that attitude does not fail now.

So despairingly, Mike wants this with you. To raise Abby and Garrett together, he can only imagine the wonderful people they'd become under your care. Maybe you and him could even bring a few more beautiful lives into this world. He can only imagine how exultant his own life would become if this dream turned into reality.

The rest of his life would be spent with you in Nebraska, just like this. Mornings and nights spent together at the dining table, all delicious laughter and nourishing meals. He'll even let you bring that lizard, too!

Playing frivolous games in the backyard until the sun sets, dressing in ridiculous costumes to take the kids trick-or-treating, and helping them blow out the candles for every birthday cake. Hell, he'll endure the sweltering temperatures and screaming kids at Disneyland. Only if you're there with him.

And maybe after the bedtime stories and last tuck-ins goodnight, you and him can occupy yourselves with other activities. Mike is no stranger to these kinds of fantasies, after all.

You wouldn't fail Abby and Garrett. Not like he did. You could all be a family. Exactly like he has always wanted.

For a moment, Mike had forgotten how his life had inevitably turned out. He was so warped in the domestic bliss he could have with you, that he didn't anticipate how the next chapter of his life would manifest in this dream.

You are tackled to the ground. You fight, you kick, you scream — you do everything in your strength to get the man off of you. The very same man who took Garrett all those years ago.

Not a picosecond passes before Mike picks himself up, rushing to your safety. He intends to beat the man to a bloody pulp. His sole purpose on Earth is to protect you and ensure your safety, after all. In his efforts, his foot gets caught against the legs of the picnic table, sending him to the dirt floor. Mike is quick to scramble to his feet. His heart races a mile a minute; his eyes are blown wide in crazed worry.

When he stands, he finds that somehow within the few seconds spent on the ground, you had been shoved into the back of a car. You bang your fists against the rear window, pleading for him to rescue you. And that, Mike desperately tries to do.

He sprints after you in a blind, blurred panic. The sudden, swift movement of his body is painful, as though needles poke and prod at his skin. It is all he can see, hear, feel, think of. Losing you and the gut-wrenching devastation that would inevitably follow.

The car begins to accelerate faster and faster. His running pace gets slower with every step forward. Mike tries, God, he fucking tries, but you slip away from him like sand between his fingers. Just the same as it was when he lost his brother.

With his speed receding, his body loses all mobility and he cannot bear to run anymore. The harsh punt of his body falling to the ground pulls a grunt out of his throat. Mike whispers mantras of "I'm sorry," hoping that you can somehow hear his pleas. He prays that by some miracle, the man who took you will have a change of heart and bring you back. Sobs plunge through his chest. The misery seeps in like water leaking through a weak dam.

Consciousness comes back to him all too suddenly. A loud yell of your name erupts from him and echoes through the security room. Mike plummets from his desk chair and splats against the ground. His mind is still plagued by that scene, he is still racing to save your life.

Cold sweat drips from his head. His hands shake with a terrified tremor. He hyperventilates, as though he had escaped the depths of the ocean and were inhaling fresh air for the first time. Mike weakly props himself up against the desk, trying to calm himself.

An entire year of agony. Over 365 days of absolute Hell. Living without you has tortured him in ways he never thought was possible.

Sitting here on the filthy floor of this old pizzeria, Mike finally waves his white flag. He has given up. He cannot do this anymore. It is more than he can handle.

And without so much as another breath, Mike springs into action.

Max is surprised to see him back home so early. Flustered and ridden with sweat, Mike explains how there is an emergency at work and he needs her to watch Abby longer. She obliges and accepts the hefty pay he shoves into her hands. He is driving away before she can process what has just occurred.

The song he plays every night in his Walkman blares from the car radio. Your song. The idea brings him ephemeral ease. A dash of excitement.

This is what his life is supposed to be and if all goes well, it's what it will be in mere hours. Mike's foot slams harder against the gas, doing what he should have done long ago.

All he has to do is explain himself. Surely, you will listen and understand this is for the better. You will see through all his stuttered words and irrepressible nerves. You will taste the sickeningly sweet devotion dripping from his mushy, candied heart. Surely, you will understand this is all for you. And of course, you will love him, too.

Hours pass like gusts of wind. The welcome sign of Nebraska passes in a flash. Mike remembers the route like the back of his hand. He'd never forget the roads that lead back to you, after all.

Dawn is moments from rising. The sky is a dark blue, covered in blotches of dark, orange sunshine. Mike pulls into the parking lot of your school where only one car is present. Yours. And of course, he parks directly beside you. The prospect of being close to you, even with something as negligible as this, sends a hot shiver coursing through his body.

Mike tries to soothe himself as he lets out a shaky breath. A heavy trepidation is nestled in his stomach, still mixed with that crisp excitement. Sweat cascades down his face. His dark, curly hair sticks to his forehead. Nothing can stop these feelings. He may try, but his scattered heartstrings stubbornly remain ensnared around his throat.

When he stands, he has to latch onto the roof of his car to catch his balance. Any passerby would think he was drunk. Being at an elementary school would certainly not help his case, either. Fortunately, the only people here are you and him. No one else. Just the way it is supposed to be.

The path leading to you is familiar. The trees blossoming, the chalk drawings on the sidewalk, and the scent of the early-morning breeze. It reminds Mike even more of how much he missed you.

His wet palms grasp the handles of the front entrance. He pulls, only for the door to remain locked in place. A few more desperate tugs and he watches as his ploy peels apart from the seams. The consideration of breaking down the door is only present momentarily, before any and all function of his is cut short.

The door is unlocked and opened. Stood at the threshold is you.

And with more intensity than Mike had anticipated, the euphoria only you are capable of conjuring comes rushing back.

"Good morning!" is all you say. Your expression is cheerful. Kind. Gorgeous, as you always are. Exactly the way he remembered.

Now that you are finally here, Mike cannot fathom how he had survived so long without you. The pieces of you sprinkled throughout his life are brought to revelation. Your name carved into his bones, your warmth threaded through his veins, your breath stirred with his every word. It is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. The fact he had not collapsed upon making mere eye contact with you is a miracle in of itself.

"Oh! Are you the new security guard? I wasn't aware we were getting a new hire." You break the silence, referring to the yellow "SECURITY" stamped on his vest.

You...

You don't remember me?

The words don't manage to escape him. Instead, you send him into a state of stupor.

The impact your words have on him is nothing short of surreal. When Mike had memorized every sliver of you down to the tilt of your jaw and the curve of your spine, you had forgotten him entirely. For the year he spent longing for you, he was merely a bystander in the background. An apparition within your mind. You do not remember him. And no words in the English language could express the lethal heartbreak.

It has rendered Mike speechless and his inability to speak fills you with unease.

"Please, come in." Opening the door further, you try and usher him inside. All you wish to do is escape this conversation and the fervid eyes of this stranger.

Gaze still glued to you, he grasps hold of the door handles. His unconscious brain still decides to take the weight off of you. Mike has no choice now, he must convince you to stay with him. To beg you to choose him, to remind you of everything you once had with each other. To show you what losing you has done to him.

When you turn and walk away, he tries to find his voice. Mike wants to express all of this to you, but his efforts are futile. He is frozen and can only watch as you leave him again. The opposite direction of your classroom, this time. Towards the office. Most likely to ensure he was actually in the system.

Mike does not take this choice of yours for granted. Gathering up whatever morsel of strength is still left in him, he takes a few wobbly steps. He stumbles through the dark hallways, clutching his hand over his heart as he walks. His rampant heartbeat does not calm itself, no matter his attempts to soothe it.

Upon practically collapsing into your classroom, a flare of fleeting ease envelops Mike. To be surrounded by you is absolute ecstasy. Paradise is personified through flamboyant decorations and the scent of strawberries and books.

He scans every detail of your classroom. The new drawings on the wall, the jumble of recently purchased toys. He sees the new changes you have made in the past year and is shattered to know you were not thinking of him at all. As opposed to every second of his life being enmeshed with you.

Mike soon finds your desk. The first and last place he had ever truly felt happiness. On the surface, some of your clutter had been left behind. Too cute. A colorful planner had been left open to this exact date. A few papers are sat to the side, where students' assessments are in the process of being graded. Most important of all, your thermal scattered with stickers sits on a pained coaster.

Mike knows he should not consider it, no less think about it. You just need to be reminded, that's all.

With a paranoid glance at the door, he takes the orange bottle of sleeping pills from his backpack. He swiftly pours out several onto the desk. Then, he takes a stapler you had left out of reach from children's sticky fingers, crushing the thin white circles into a chunky powder. Your thermal opens with a quiet pop! and Mike pours the residue into your drink. He uses the straw to stir it around for effective measure, trying to ignore the incessant urge to take your straw for... personal use.

A storage closet resides right behind him. Mike leaves everything on your desk as it once was and is swift to hide inside. He leaves the door open a mere creak, within perfect distance to watch his plan unfold.

The minute without you feels torturous, as though it had lasted a millennia. When the aching sound of silence is filled by a creaking door, his heart practically plummets. Through the small peep, you enter his field of vision. You trot over to the iguana enclosure. Saying a quick hello to Mr. Cupcake, before making your way to your desk. Oblivious to the uninvited guest just inches away.

You take a sip from your thermal. Mike cannot find air to breathe or the ability to function.

You take another. This is actually happening.

One more sip. Your pen scribbles on your planner.

You take a sip. It is a blessing straight from God you cannot hear the hyperventilated breaths behind you.

Then, another sip. Holy shit, this is actually happening.

As you work, you reach over to grab some sticky notes. Your elbow accidentally nudges your pen, causing it to fall from your desk and roll across the floor. You stand to retrieve it with a grumble before a sudden wave of lethargy envelops you. It is all too sudden and acute. You have to lean on the edge of your desk to stable yourself.

Before you can question the sudden fatigue, your body fails you. When you inevitably fall, Mike is quick to catch you. Hell, his arms were around you before your legs even wobbled. Slowly, and with loving attentiveness, he guides your limp body to the ground. The adrenaline inside him is so penetrating, that he does not have a moment to process the fact he is touching you.

With you fully unconscious, Mike knows exactly where he'll be heading next. Only now, he'll have an additional passenger with him.

He secures your unconscious form into the back seat of his car. Fastening your seatbelt and triple-checking they are in proper function. Mr. Cookie, or whatever his name is, is in the front seat within his cage. Moving his enclosure and necessities from your classroom was a hassle, as told by the bite mark on Mike's hand. For you, though, he would endure far worse.

With the birds beginning to sing, there is little time before the world wakes up and his intentions are jeopardized. Mike drives off before anyone can see what he has done. Not even he has fully processed what he has done.

Leaving your car, your home, and your life behind, he begins the treacherous and exciting journey back to Utah.

Every car that passes has him gripping the wheel tighter, foot reader to slam harder on the gas. He had already lost you once, he cannot lose you again. Mike does not play music, either. The sounds of your breathing is his new favorite harmony.

He casts a glance in the rear-view mirror every now and then. You're draped among the back of the car, cocooned in the numerous blankets he brought for this trip. Beneath the windows, your head is rested against a fluffy pillow. He even snuggled a few plushies into your arms. The sight is so gut-wrenchingly adorable, Mike nearly crashes the car with how painfully distracting the sight of you is.

This was the state he stayed in for the first several hours of the drive. Mindless driving on freeways, checking on you (as well as continuously cooing over your cuteness), and holding his breath whenever he passes through busy areas or cops. Then, he gets knocked off course.

With blurred vision, you can barely discern where you are.

Sunlight makes you squint. Your mind is messy. You can hear the rumble of a car engine, feel the vibration against your form. The blankets wrapped around you are suffocating. You peel them off from your body, a few random stuffed animals fall to the car floor when you do so.

Mike nearly snaps his neck with how fast he turns around. His efforts to take you away were frivolous, yes, but he was sure he had given you enough pills to sleep through the trip.

"Hey, you're okay. Y-You're okay. Everything's gonna be okay. Okay? Just don't freak out... Please don't freak out."

You do the opposite of what he advised. Little by little, the pieces begin to click together. Panic settles in your stomach like a fresh sheet of snow. Hyperventilating breaths leave your shaking body, accentuated by your frightened whimpers. Who is this man? What the fuck is going on? Tears stream down your face with every question that litters your mind. And every cracked sob you let out is a fatal strike to your assailant's fragile heart.

Mike is quick to comfort you, as you can always count on him to do such. And how badly he wishes to climb into the back seat himself and hold you close. Everything he is doing is for the better, you must know that. As scary as this all may seem for you, he will do whatever it takes to convince you of this truth.

He reaches his hand back to soothe you, only succeeding in the opposite when you cower away from his touch. Mike cannot hide how poignant your rejection is, he is shocked he hadn't broken down into tears alongside you.

"... Are you going to hurt me-?"

"I would never."

He answers without a sliver of hesitation. Your shattered, sugar-sweet voice absolutely destroys him.

The weight of his declaration is so immense that you could almost believe him. You should believe him, as he only tells the utter truth. The fact you have been drugged and shoved into the backseat of a stranger's car, however, convinces you otherwise.

Looking through the window, you take note of the rural area you're in. Nothing but miles of trees to comfort you. No distinct landmarks to help you navigate your location.

Mike oscillates between looking at you and the road. While he's occupied with the road ahead, you take action before thinking thoroughly. Sweltering blankets torn off of your body, you unfasten your seatbelt as silently as you can. You mentally prepare yourself for the turmoil up ahead. Then, within a matter of a single second, you unlock the car door and jump.

Debris slices into you as you fall deeper into the forest. The world becomes a blurred frenzy of trees and cloudy skies. Your frail body is drowsy from the drugs still pumping through your system. Your ribs ache, your ears ring, and you are covered in gashes. Still, survival is the only prospect present in your brain. You pick yourself up from the dirt and dash forward. Never looking back.

April puddles and fallen pinecones ruin your expensive work shoes. Fresh flowers are squished beneath your steps. There is no path you intend to take, you only wish to get as far as you can from that man. Poison ivy and low-hanging branches slash at your skin. You do not think, you only push and push and push. Anywhere away from him.

The second you had opened that car door, Mike slammed down on the brakes. The scream of your name hurts his throat from the sheer volume. To see you jump, leaving him again, sparked fear like no other. He does not even bother to turn off the car or close the door before he is racing after you. He cannot lose you again. He can't, he can't, he can't.

Mike barrels into the forest like a feral animal. He is met with a terrifying sense of déjà-vu. He's seen this movie before, he's heard this song a million times. This dream has haunted him forever. Just when he is inches from touching salvation, you will be snatched away from him. And he will have to watch as his life crumbles before his very eyes.

His legs grow heavier with every step. He screams for you until his voice goes raw. His lungs feel as though they may collapse into themselves. Still, his efforts to find you do not falter. You would have to kill him if you wished to keep him away from you.

A tree branch crunches.

Mike stops dead in his tracks. Listening.

There's a pained whimper. Quiet amongst the soft winds.

He dashes toward the sound. Swift in surging through the steep hills and overgrown forestry in his path.

While you were running, you failed to notice a protruding tree root. When your foot hooks beneath it and sends you tumbling to the ground, you try and scramble to your feet. However, the burst of adrenaline that had gotten you this far could not combat the lethargy still in your body. You lay on your back, exasperated with debility. Entirely paralyzed.

"Y/N! Oh, thank God!" Mike collapses beside you, all while you stare at the stranger in utter terror.

Dirt and sweat paint his body. Eyes blown wide and crazed, his hands reach for you. Fearfully searching for any wounds. One hand cradles your face, caressing your skin with his thumb. The other rests against your hairline, petting the expanse with tender intent. Cries of both relief and terror fill the empty silence. To lose you all over again is a horrifying prospect he cannot fathom the weight of.

"N-... No..." Your voice is weak. Barely able to crawl out of your mouth.

Fingers latched into the mud, you try to drag your body away from this maniac. Mike brings your attempts to a halt, hands still latched onto your body.

"I'll be good, Y/N, I will... Just-Just stay with me!"

Your assailant does not listen to your feeble demands. Instead, Mike wraps his arms around your torso. Further ensnaring you in his locked embrace. He buries his face into your neck and rocks your body back and forth. Trying to soothe you into another slumber. His sniffles are overpowered by his sharp inhales of breath. Consuming your scent.

"You're not leaving me. You're not fucking leaving me!" Mike bawls out.

He is now a complete mess. Face twisted with ugly sobs. All hot tears and running snot.

"Just sleep now, okay? I'm right here..."

Blunt nails dig into your shoulder blades. His weight on top of you is suffocating. Please just love him and never leave him. That is all he could ever ask for, all he could ever want. He has spent so long without the one he loves most, he cannot bear to ever part from them ever again.

With a choked groan, Mike lifts your limp body from the ground. Sniffling reassurances echo as you reach a state of unconsciousness. He lifts you over his shoulder and your body loses all mobility. As he takes you away, your mind fades into a peaceful rest. Escaping is now a pipe dream.

Faint sounds of shuffling are what you're next awoken to. Pipes bang and thump. It is far more quiet than your last conscious encounter.

Darkness pervades your vision. Your body feels weightless, as though you are floating through a dream. You cannot move, no matter your efforts to try. As if your limbs had been glued to the fluffy expanse you've been laid upon. All you are capable of doing is releasing a guttural moan of disdain from the back of your throat.

"Easy, cub. Easy now."

No.

The voice is fluffy and easy. Horrifyingly familiar.

This can't be real; this can't be reality. This cannot be what your life becomes: rotting away in this stranger's embrace.

You were granted several mere seconds of solitude before hands were on your body, once again. The grasp lifts your body, to where your assailant sits behind you and rests your back against his chest. His efforts are gentle. Comforting. Though, the movement still has you wincing in discomfort. You hadn't anticipated how many injuries you had given yourself.

Speckles of your sight return in short spurts. There is light against the darkness, everything is gold. Drowned in the hues of candlelight scattered around the room. The glow is cast against a fuzzy expanse, to where you could almost convince yourself you were in a dream. And my God, do you wish it was.

You miss the rich, headache-inducing colors of your classroom. The judging stares of other parents who drowned their homes in beige decor never felt more comforting. You miss the screeching children with their constant need for attention. Their dramatic tears and obnoxious attitude would bring you peace like no other.

Mike plants his chin against your shoulder and all you can think about is the beautiful life you have lived until this point. His arm slithers across your torso, tightening with vehement need. It is loving in the most suffocating manner. You then hear a bottle unscrew through static noise. shushes you as he presses the lid against your lips. Water cascades into your mouth and down your dry throat, all while Mike presses impassioned kisses to your temple.

"There you go. Very good... You're perfect..." His tone is cordial as he ushers you to drink.

As much as you had tried to fight his attempts to give you water, it has fortunately provided you more clarity. The environment surrounding you fades into something more lucid.

You've been swaddled in a thick comforter. Soft and floral-scented, fresh out of the dryer. The king-size bed is at the end of the room and provides you with a clear view of everything. The lack of windows and decrepit staircase tucked in the corner tell you this is a basement. Soundproofed and locked up, your chances of escape are minimal. He does not want to let you go, that much is for certain.

Across the room is a chunky television. Movie cassettes sit in the cabinet supporting the television, where a newly purchased GameCube is left beside, as well. There's a bookshelf to your left, which is filled with old novels and children's books. Nothing was bought recently. Is there a child in this house? Lego sets and puzzle boxes are stacked next to the shelf. You come to the chilling assumption that it is intended to be something for you to occupy yourself with when he's gone.

Much to your satisfaction, Mike leaves from his spot behind you. He guides you back onto the pillow with romantic, loving ease. A gentle caress to your cheek before he goes. As if he was your doting husband taking care of you while you are ill.

When you look to your right, your heart accelerates when you find your iguana enclosure on top of a rickety table. Thank God he is alright! You do not know what you would do if this man had harmed Mr. Cupcake.

As words have failed you consistently, you whine out like a baby to express your wants. Your assailant's attention is back on you at record speed. The persistent need he has to ensure your comfort is almost pathetic. Teary-eyed and pouty, you reach for the enclosure holding your iguana.

Mike's body goes rigid. A gentle gasp emanates from him.

Are you... Are you reaching for him?

He practically throws himself back onto the bed. Sat beside your laying form, he almost can't bring himself to believe it. His deluded fantasies have bloomed into existence.

"Yes? What do you need, cub?" Please say him. Please say you need him like he needs you.

Mike looks at you and his eyes melt into candy. A gentle smile plastered on his face, he brings his finger up and boops you on the nose. Affectionate is his natural disposition. You're too fucking cute.

Mike had wasted an entire year without you. Too much time spent neglecting you of his love. Oh, you must have been so lonely without him. This is all he has wanted, after all. To take care of you. To take the weight off your shoulders and bring you ease like no other. He will spend the rest of his lifetime making up for the lost time. He would spend forever for you, slaving away to earn your forgiveness.

When you firmly establish what it is you actually want, no amount of sleeping pills in your thermal cup could stop you from seeing how defeated he is. Your rejection cuts like a dagger. Anyone can see this genuine fact. Still, Mike abides by your request. He'd tear mountains asunder for your happiness, after all.

Begrudgingly, he leaves your side. He opens the enclosure with struggle. Too many notches and slots. When he takes Mr. Cupcake into his hands, the iguana squirms and twists. Almost as if the reptile grasped what was happening. He propels his tail like a whip, reaching for the hands around him with his sharp teeth. His nails dig into whatever part of this stranger he can find.

When Mike plops him into your lap, Mr. Cupcake relaxes instantaneously. You snuggle him into your arms and are provided comfort from him, as well. His scaly flesh and jagged spine abrade your face, but you have never known a more soothing embrace. You plant a myriad of kisses and adoring nuzzles on Mr. Cupcake's skin. At the same time, you ignore the third wheel standing there.

Mike watches this and is nearly sick with want. Never in his life had he ever thought he'd wish to be an iguana this bad. The things he would give and the things he would take to be on the receiving end of your affections bridges off insanity.

Averting his gaze, he cannot watch the scene anymore. He had never expected to be so envious of a goddamn reptile. Mike grants you the time you want with that prickly bastard and leaves the basement. You hear the tumultuous clatter of all the locks and bolts being put into place once he is gone.

The time without Mike is something you do not take for granted. Silence is precious, solitude even more so. During his absence, you reel through the supercut of your life. You cannot find this man in any of your memories. You do not remember that face no matter how hard you try. He is the bad guy, the villain. The very definition of 'stranger-danger' you teach your students about.

When Mike returns, all of that disturbed turbulence comes with him.

In his hands is a cracked dinner plate with spaghetti and meatballs splat on top. The closer he gets, the faster your heart pumps. Setting the plate down on the bedside table, he takes your iguana from your tight hold. Mr. Cupcake still thrashes in his grasp, trying to bite and hit wherever he can. Good boy.

When the beast is locked away, Mike is idyllic to be alone with you again. He acts as though the current circumstances were romantic, where you and him are enjoying an amorous vacation. He then places the meal carefully in your lap, wary of the hot plate burning your precious skin.

"You need to eat, cub. You've been through so much. Too much." Mike's hand finds your face again, thumb caressing your cheek.

His mere words make you want to vomit your breakfast all over what is supposed to be your dinner. Still, you obey and begin eating. The dish is mediocre, at best. You've tasted better from the kitchen play set where your students wear chef hats and cook plastic food. Kidnapped and trapped in a basement, however, you'll take whatever scraps you can get.

Eyes glued to your plate, you do not watch as Mike takes a movie from the cabinet and pops it into the VCR. "The Immortal and the Restless" whirs to life as he returns to where you sit. Mike lays down beside you and joins you beneath the warm comforter. He takes the fork from your hands. A shiver cascades up his arm upon the faint contact made by your fingers touching. Oh, it is love. He then begins to feed you. There is nothing but sugary madness in his eyes.

Bite by bite, you are forced to watch soap operas and listen to nauseating love declarations.

"I was so alone out there without you, baby."

If only you hadn't been so fooled by a security vest and pretty brown eyes, you could be with your students right now. You could be free right now.

If only.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

❝ PRAYING STRAIGHT TO GOD THAT

MAYBE YOU'LL COME BACK AROUND . . . ❞

no one asked for this but idc hehe.

gif creds :: mike.

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mikobeautifulheart · 29 days

Note

What would megumi do when he finds you crying over him❤

Uh YES.

you know what? I think ily. And its unedited sorry!

Crying over Megumi

TW: none.

"Has anyone seen y/n?" Megumi asked glancing up from his phone.

The sister school event ended and you were urgently called onto a mission.

You were supposed to be back from your mission 30 minutes ago.

"No...what's the time now, she can't be to far away." Nobora said swinging in her chair.

"She's late." He mumbled

"It happens" Yuji said sensing Megumis unease.

"Wait here for her, I'm going searching." Megumis said shoving his phone in his pocket and walking out the door before anyone responded.

Megumi started to worry, you weren't weak, sure you were sweet. And kind. And innocent. And perfect. And everything he was looking for... But if anything you were fully capable of taking care of yourself.

It's just before you left that day, you seemed off.

There was something about the missing smile on your face that put Megumi off.

"Y/n? Are you in there?" He knocks on every door for every room in the school but you weren't there.

Where could you be?

He thought back on the day, nothing weird. Except...

You were talking to the Kyoto Jujutsu students when he could see your eyes twitch. Really he brushed it off thinking it was nothing.

But you didn't go on your mission alone, they called in one of the female students from Kyoto to back you up. As you said your goodbyes he watched as your hands balled into fists and you left.

That was strange, it wasn't easy to make you mad, even Sukuna couldn't make you as angery as you were then.

He walked over to the dormitory and knocked on your door.

"Y/n, are you in there?"

He heard shuffles but no response.

"Y/n I know your in there."

"Go...away" you said.

"I'm coming in" he said pushing the door open.

He poked his head through first to see you sitting on the floor, holding a pillow to your face.

"I said leave me alone" you mumbled behind the pillow.

"No, you said go away." He said now standing in your dorm, shutting the door behind him.

You were a mess, in the nicest way possible.

You were clearly done for the day sitting on the floor with an over sized shirt on, ends of your hair still sightly dripping some water from your shower.

"...are you okay?" He asked standing frozen.

Megumi didn't plan for this, all he really thought was finding you and going to a nearby vending machine, you ramble on about your mission and he just admires your lips.

"y...yeah, I'm just tiered." You said still refusing to look at him.

His heart is thumping out of his chest right now. Usually this would be great but he could clearly tell that something was off.

"Move the pillow." he said

"no."

"Y/n"

"No"

He reached forward and grabbed a side of the pillow pulling it out of your arms, leaving you defenceless.

"are you-crying?"

Your red cheeks were exposed and your moist eye lids were glimmering. Noticing that your sheild was missing, you pull your shirt over your head.

Megumi sifts down Infront of you now filled with concern. "What happened y/n? Did somebody hurt you? Tell me who and ill go set the record straight. What did they do?" The concern turned into anger, who upset such a perfect person? They were in for it now.

"Its okay Megumi, don't worry about it." You said

"I'm happy for you..."

"What? y/n I need to know what's going on, just tell me please, ill do whatever you want, if you want me to beat them I will, if you want me to leave them alone...ill try but I need to know what's going on."

Your head slowly comes out the top of your shirt again, now looking at him in the eyes.

"Megumi *sniff* do you have a girl friend?" You said. Your eyes were gilmering in hope and dispair. Megumi's on the other hand were...confused

"Huh?" He blinked

"So she was right! How could I have been so stupid!" You said hitting your head with your fist.

"wa-wai-wait what? No Y/n, I don't have a girlfriend." He sighed.

"REALLY! ?" You said in shock and excitement.

"I swear if Nobora told you i-"

"No, it was the girl from Kyoto" You sighed in relief.

"The girl from the Kyoto school? That was here today?"

"Yeah, she told me that I should stay to close to you because you already had a girlfriend. Like I get the message but she was being such a butch about it-"

"But you cried, why?"

You looked to your side as your face turned red. Little did you notice Megumi's ears were turning red to.

"Because I like you. But not as a friend? I like like you...alot." You said slowly turning to face him to see his reaction.

His face was turned to.

"Uh."

"but I totally get if you don't feel the same way, I just, I had to tell you." You said looking down wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

"No, I like you to. Probably more then I should but I do." Megumi said. As the atmosphere warmed up he couldn't help but let is eyes wander. That shirt was just hanging so loosely.

"really?" You said awkwardly, before you even looked up properly you felt him lean in and something take your breath away.

A confession and now straight into a kiss? God he was getting bold, Megumi thought.

You melted right into it to.

"If that doesn't answer the question, I have 10 other ways that can give you a pretty straight answer." He said pulling back sightly before capturing your lips again.

THANKS FOR READINGGG ♡

AUTHORS NOTE: Teheheeh oh you anons, making me feel like I'm the singles person on the planet, you sillys.

ANYWAYS Guys I'm running low on requests. I've nearly finished all my drafts (which I'll publish this week). HELP ME PLEASE AUGH. Have a good whatever time and reblogs r OK.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fluff #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk fushiguro #megumi x you #megumi fluff #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fanfic

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dr-qian · 3 months

Text

break in pt.3 // m.l

burglar!mark x rich!reader

pt.1 , pt.2

mark didn't expect himself to be back again in this familiar mansion, in the middle of the night.

he promised himself to never return there ever since that "accidental" kiss you both shared, but oh well, you found a way on how to make him close to you by taking his favorite wallet.

his wallet literally has his money in it, his old school ID and the family photo he only has that he cherishes the most after leaving their home.

he actually never told anyone why he left his own home though, not even haechan. all that haechan knows was that mark has good pickpocketing skills, that's why they became best friends.

mark, with his burglar skills, entered the mansion through the window without even breaking stuff.

all he needs to do is to locate his wallet and then escape immediately, and maybe steal a few jewelries he could find there.

mark opened all the drawers and cabinets inside the kitchen, thinking that maybe you hid his wallet somewhere around there.

"shit, where is it..." mark cursed as he failed to find it after all the scavenging.

"where did she even put it?" he asked himself, thinking while scratching his temple as he slowly looked up the stairs.

right, her bedroom.

mark palmed his face, before he climbs up the stairs to locate your room.

he first went to the door of your parents' bedroom to check it if it was yours, he turned the knob slowly and quietly to peek.

he saw two people on the bed sleeping peacefully, it must be your parents. he moved his head back and closed the door slowly.

somehow, the door made some noise as it clicked when he closed it.

"huh? what was that?" your father's groggy voice was heard by mark, so he quickly moved away from the door.

"oh just go to sleep honey, it's probably just a squirrel outside" your mother sleepily said to your father before they went back to sleep.

mark let out a sigh of relief, happy that they did not bother to come out of their bedroom.

after a short rest, mark is on his way to find your room again. and he's glad it didn't take hours for him to find it.

like he did with your parent's bedroom, he turned the knob slowly and opened it to peek inside. and he saw you.

you looked like you were having a great sleep due to the random position you were in.

he also can't ignore the fact that your shorts was riding up your thighs and your stomach is peeking under your oversized shirt, but that's not important right now.

mark entered quietly, focusing on the cabinets and drawers inside your bedroom, pulling them quietly and moving your stuff around to find his wallet.

but he still couldn't find it.

"what? it's not even in here?" mark said as he became frustrated for not finding his wallet immediately.

mark turned to look at your sleeping figure, still sleeping heavily.

mark started to wonder where you placed or what you even done to his wallet, he maybe thought you destroyed it or threw it away.

or maybe, you didn't actually steal it.

mark was about to leave your room until he noticed you moving. he turned to look at you again, your arms unconsciously wrapping around the pillow underneath your head.

wait...

mark came close to your bed, walking over to the left side where your face is looking.

mark then quietly reaches his hand under your head to lift it, and tried to lift the pillow up but oh boy, you grumbled in your sleep as you felt some movement.

he quickly withdraw his hands away from you.

your face turned to the other direction and your body changes its position.

he waited for a minute to make sure you were sleeping heavily again like a baby before he continues what he's doing.

and when that happened, it was now his time to make a move. he moved one of his hands to carefully lift up your pillow instead before dragging his other hand under it.

mark had his eyes furrowed when he still couldn't feel it.

maybe it's hidden on the other side of the pillow?

mark switched his hands to the other side of your pillow instead of walking over to the side of the bed, unconsciously getting his knees up there as he reached his hand further underneath it.

then mark knew he made the biggest mistake when his left arm accidentally brushed your nose.

your brows furrowed from that action, but you still have your eyes closed. mark thought he was gonna get caught in that moment until you wrapped your arms around his left arm.

"mmh mark..." you sighed dreamily, smiling in your sleep.

what?

mark froze when he heard you sighed his name.

he watched your eyes flutter open, still frozen on top of you as you process what's happening right now.

"what the? AH-- hmmph!" mark is too damn quick to shut you up again.

"no no no, be quiet, it's just me, mark" mark said to you, his hand covering your mouth as he begs you to be quiet.

you followed what mark said and signalled him to put his hand away now.

you immediately backed away from mark and lifted your blanket up closer to your body.

he lets you back away from him, but he was still kneeling on the bed.

"look, i didn't mean to break in your bedroom, i'm just-"

"are you taking advantage of me?" you cut him off his words, which made mark stood up from your bed immediately.

"what? no! i'm not- i'm not that kind of person you think i am!" mark says, almost on the verge of yelling. you let go of your blanket as you could tell that he is not really doing that to you.

"i'm here to look for my wallet, and i think you took it" mark said straightforwardly.

you, on the other hand stayed quiet, as you suddenly turned to your bedside table and pulled out mark's brown wallet from its drawers.

how come he did not see that when he was searching in all your drawers?

"you're looking for this?" you asked as you showed him it.

"yes! thank you, now give it to me" mark stepped closer to you to claim it but you backed your hand away from him.

"hey, what are you doing? give it to me" mark said, attempting to grab it again but you hid his wallet behind your back, still remaining quiet before you spoke.

"but mark, if i gave you this wallet, there's a chance i won't see you ever again..." you reasoned to him.

mark sighed, looking around the bedroom as he tries to find the words to say.

"uhh look, that kiss we had before, it was an accident, i didn't mean to do that"

"that was my first kiss" you quickly rebutted.

"i-i'm sorry, i didn't know"

"so now you pay the consequence of staying here with me" you said to him, with your arms crossed on your chest. keeping the wallet behind your back.

what the hell is up with this girl?

"uhh look, uhm..." mark trailed off, realizing he doesn't even know your name yet.

"y/n" you said blatantly.

"y/n, uhmm i know that we shared your first kiss together in an accidental way but, i know there are some other guys better than me out there that could be giving you everything you want in a way that i couldn't. i'm sorry that i couldn't be that guy for you..." mark said to you in the most sincere way he could ever do. so poetic.

...

"okay" you shrugged while staring at him.

"can i have my wallet back now?" he asked.

"nope"

"what? dude, i just told you that-"

"and? you're still not gonna have your wallet back..." you told him.

"okay, what do you want me to do?" mark asked, repeating back the words he asked again before the accident.

"hmmm..." you looked around the room to think of what he could do for you.

i know!

"how about...you, take me out on a date on saturday?" you asked him.

"i can't do that, i'm sorry...just give me my wallet back!" mark says before reaching his hands behind your back to get his wallet.

"no! i'm going to scream!" you said, trying to prevent his prying hands from your back but it won't budge him.

"just give me back my wallet" mark said as he continues to get his wallet.

"no!" you quickly hid his wallet underneath your blanket and between your thighs.

"what are you gonna do now?" you taunted him.

"geez fuck! you're so difficult..." mark mumbled underneath his hands that was planted on his face due to the frustration.

on the other hand, you just giggled at his actions.

"okay, you win, i'll take you out on a date tomorrow" mark told you.

you let out a squeak of victory.

"now please, let me have my wallet back?" mark asked you, trying to make himself calm.

"nuh uh, how would i know you're true to your words?" you asked him.

fuck, what a smart girl

"okay, just bring that damn wallet tomorrow on our date" mark said, before backing away from you.

"give me your number so i could text you where we'll meet up" he told you, and so you happily brought out your notepad and scribbled your number on it before ripping it and giving it to mark.

"here you go" mark accepted the note in his hand and looked at it.

"i'm going to leave now, make sure you show up" mark said, heading to your door.

"i will, just also make sure that you show up" you smirked at your words, making mark shake his head out of disbelief.

mark finally exited your bedroom, going back to haechan's basement carrying a piece of paper with your number on it instead of his precious wallet.

mark realized on his way home that he really really messed with the wrong girl.

and now you're one of his problems.

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hellwantfuckme · 4 months

Text

her warmth

summary: Azriel returns injured from a mission, he could have visited Madja, who would make quick work of healing his wounds, he prefers to stay with her, even if it will hurt a little more, as long as the solitary wound lodged in his chest also heals.

warnings: injuries, blood

author's note: Azriel has my heart.

Eclipse's face twisted into a minuscule expression of disgust as she looked at the brutal wound, fifteen centimeters long on Azriel's muscular back, just below his shoulder, a generous space between the gash and his shoulder blades where his wings began. The expression on her face increased, her eyebrows furrowing into a frown.

"Do you still insist on not going to a healer?" Eclipse asked, her voice weak as she saw the blood. A small knot lodged in her throat.

She had had wounds like that on her body a thousand times, and had treated them on her own, miraculously, only one or two had become infected. Eclipse was thankful that Azriel was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking forward, unable to see the slight disgust on her face. She was on her knees just behind him, keeping a reckless distance from his wings. The left wing comfortably stretched across the length of her bed, the other, somewhat more uncomfortable, reaching the headboard. But both were down, relaxed, perhaps. Or maybe he was just so tired that keeping them firm, as he normally did, was heavy. Eclipse had seen him sprawled out on a sofa, totally drunk, and still his wings didn't touch the ground. She had seen him sit on his bed other times, with his wings well tucked against his back.

Eclipse didn't know how to process that information. What it meant. She took a deep breath, cleared her mind. That was something for another time, to think about his body language and analyze it until reaching a thousand conclusions, she would do it later, when the Illyrian was not sitting on her bed. When there were only remnants of his scent left.

"Is it really bad?" Azriel asked, his hoarse voice sending a shiver through her spine and making her heart race. He remained downcast, bone-tired.

She hated seeing him like this, her frown only deepened. She didn't want to acknowledge that the feeling that ran through her veins was raw concern. Eclipse looked at the wound again.

"W-well, yes, it looks pretty bad. When did you get it? A day ago, two?" Eclipse inquired, although by the way the wound looked, it was clear to her that it had been more than 24 hours. She spoke without letting Azriel answer. "From Windhaven to here is two hours, flown two hours and it still hasn't healed on its own, it will need stitches. It looks deep," Eclipse said, voicing what had been going through her mind since Azriel had taken off the leathers covering the upper part of his body and sat on the bed.

The blue-gray light from the faelights gave her perfect illumination, the wing membranes appearing more of a light pink than the usual red.

Azriel stiffened, nerves attacking her, and she tried to keep them buried, push them down. She couldn't help but overanalyze every gesture, every change, to a conclusion that had as many opportunities to be correct as to be miles away from reality.

"Or so I think, I have no idea how Illyrians heal," Eclipse muttered doubtfully. She was no healer, just a twenty-two-year-old girl who had had to heal this kind of wounds more than once. "I don't even know how Faeries... do it. But from the times that..."

"No," Azriel interrupted. "It's... you're right. If it hasn't healed yet, it won't heal on its own."

"You said you've sewn wounds on yourself more than once, right?"

A conversation they had had months ago, Eclipse blinked, the only sign of surprise. She hadn't really thought he would remember it, it had been something she had only mentioned once, less than a minute.

"I could help you with the wound, it's not too late tho, we can still call Madja and..." Her doubts about herself grew denser.

"Can you do it?" Azriel interrupted again, his shoulders rigid.

Eclipse felt the tortured way the words came out of his lips, tense as well.

Eclipse sighed, not thinking too much about the fact that he was indirectly asking her to take care of his wounds, had a kind of meaning. The kind of meaning that Eclipse would spend hours thinking about, hours tossing and turning in her bed repeating every tiny interaction over and over again.

Her hand rested on Azriel's other shoulder, a mere sign of seeking balance as she got out of her bed and headed to the bathroom attached to her room. She didn't stop to think about the much-exposed skin she was showing with that barely thigh-length blue silk nightgown, or the discrete way his eyes roamed the length of her legs, to her exposed collarbones.

She entered and left the bathroom without taking too long, gathering everything she needed.

The House had provided her with a bowl of hot water and a clean cloth, as well as a sterilized needle and thread. And also, herbs that Eclipse knew very well. Yarrow leaves that would prevent bacteria in the wound, marigold flowers that would help with inflammation, and lavender, for the pain. She had prepared this mixture a thousand times, the smell of everything reminding her of all the times she had gotten into street fights, or bar fights, and especially, the scar along her forearm itched with the memory.

She banished the mental image of all the blood and panic she had felt back then. Now she knew what to do, although the fact that she would be treating someone who wasn't herself still sparked a slight panic in her chest. Eclipse filled her lungs with air for six seconds, held it for four, and released it for another six seconds.

«Calm down.»

She carefully left everything on her nightstand, with Azriel's gaze fixed on her, his usually stoic expression interrupted by a slight frown and a very slight pink shade on his cheeks. Eclipse must have imagined it.

She dipped the cloth tip in the hot water, then submerged the fabric a little more until half of it was wet and withdrew it, wringing it to remove the excess water.

Their eyes met for just a second while Eclipse stood up, there was a glimmer in his eyes that she could not decipher. It was incredible how, even without trying to hide his emotions, it was difficult to read him.

Eclipse turned the bed around, got on it, positioning herself just behind him. Her warm, somewhat wet hand from the cloth, touched his shoulder again to recompose properly. Eclipse felt him bristle. She didn't know if it was because of the contact or because she was too close to his wings, either way she backed off a little. Still close enough to easily reach his wound but maintaining a distance between her and his wings.

She cleared her throat.

"It might hurt a little," she said.

"I've dealt with worse," Azriel told her, his voice almost guttural and tense. Eclipse stopped for a second.

Was it the pain? Or perhaps, had he changed his mind about this and wanted to leave? Maybe he had seen her nerves. Maybe the pain clouded his judgment and he hadn't thought it through.

Eclipse heard a sigh escape his nose, and she looked at the wound again, unsure of how to proceed. The idea of reminding him that he could leave if he wasn't comfortable, that they could still call Madja, was a quick order to her vocal cords, and when she was about to speak, Azriel beat her to it.

"How did you learn to heal wounds like this?" he inquired. His voice notably less tense.

Eclipse took it as an invitation and gently placed the cloth over the beginning of his smooth, firm skin break.

"I used to get into fights," Eclipse murmured as the cloth gently crossed the wound, cleaning impurities.

The smell of blood reached her, the blood and the cedar and exhaustion. Eclipse still wasn't used to the fact that emotions gave off a smell, even though she had been Fae for three years, with countless years ahead of her.

"The friends I had were all from extremely questionable security neighborhoods. They solved everything with violence, the slightest offense, the smallest debt…"

Eclipse sighed.

"I've broken my thumb twice punching wrong, and I have thousands of small scars from learning to use a dagger properly. And I've had wounds like this more times than I care to remember," she explained.

She finished cleaning the wound without giving any further explanations, and Azriel didn't speak or make any sounds of pain, he just clenched his jaw so hard she thought a tooth would break. Eclipse remembered how she had screamed, they had made her bite a belt, the first time she had gotten a wound like this and they had simply cleaned it. Although there was also the fact that she had been infinitely gentler cleaning Azriel's wound than her friends had been cleaning hers.

Eclipse got out of bed, leaving the cloth on the nightstand.

The house conjured up another wooden bowl, right next to the herbs. She put each of the herbs in the bowl, poured some hot water over them, and crushed them as best as she could. It took her longer than she would have liked, Azriel's gaze, once again, fixed on her.

"You've broken your thumb twice?" Azriel asked, raising an eyebrow. She saw curiosity and a bit of fun on his face and snorted.

"At least you know how to throw a punch," she joked, halfheartedly.

"If I haven't, are you going to push me into the ring with Cassian and have him yell orders at me?" Eclipse joked.

"Cassian would be too soft for someone who has broken their thumb twice giving a punch, and done it wrong."

"I was fifteen!" Eclipse excused herself, her voice rising only slightly. The corners of his lips curved into a tiny smile. "But I do know how to throw a punch."

"I'd like to see that," Eclipse rolled her eyes; his smile grew slightly broader.

When the ointment was ready, Eclipse positioned herself behind him again. Every time Eclipse saw the wound it seemed to get larger, bloodier.

She applied the ointment carefully on the wound, Azriel let out a small groan of pain, almost imperceptible. Eclipse grimaced and swallowed.

"Sorry," she murmured. When she finished, she looked at the needle. "Could you pass me the needle?"

Azriel handed it over without objection.

"I imagine I don't need to tell you it's going to hurt," she murmured again.

Azriel closed his eyes when the needle pierced his skin, his fists tightened the sheets beneath him.

Eclipse sewed the wound with expert hands, a process that took long minutes until it was closed. Azriel let out a sigh, and she, as gently as she could, bandaged the wound.

"Go see Madja tomorrow morning, Azriel," she practically ordered. He just nodded. Eclipse got off the bed, then, standing in front of him. He straightened up, even when a grimace of pain settled on his face at doing so, just to be able to look at her better. For the first time, he had to lift his chin to look her in the eyes.

Eclipse noticed a few drops of blood staining his face, and her muscles moved without thinking. Azriel spread his knees wide enough to make room for Eclipse between them, while her hand cradled his face, her thumb tracing the dried drop of blood on his cheek.

Azriel inevitably closed his eyes, tilting his face to the incredibly soft touch of her hand.

Her chest filled with warmth.

"You have to rest, Az," she murmured, not breaking the chocolate gaze of the man who seemed so... vulnerable. "My bed is yours if you want it."

He opened his eyes, as if wanting to confirm that she had just said that. That he wasn't imagining it. He blinked.

"Where will you sleep?" he asked, barely more than a whisper.

Eclipse nodded towards the sofa in front of the windows, it was actually large enough for her to sleep well, although she knew she wouldn't. In reality, she didn't know why she had offered it. But she didn't have time to regret it.

"No, I..."

"If you want to stay, you will stay in bed," Eclipse said, her voice firm. Azriel blinked again, surprise disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

Azriel knew it would be tremendously selfish to let the kind woman who had healed him, and who was looking after him right now, sleep on a sofa. But he couldn't leave her warmth, her scent around him. He couldn't bear to return to his room, alone. Just as he had been for five hundred years, because he had discovered that she filled a heavy void in his chest. That there wasn't a corner that felt uncomfortable with her, he couldn't find a flaw in her. Not one.

So he simply nodded. And let himself be taken care of.

#acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x original character #azriel x reader #azriel fluff #azriel x reader fluff #azriel acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x oc

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roosterforme · 7 months

Text

Adult Education Part 5 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica knows she should just head home for the night, but Jake's sincerity keeps her at Chippy's. He tries to secure a second date and her still elusive phone number as he learns bit by bit just how sweet she can be.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, eventually 18+

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

There was a first time for everything. At least that's how the saying went. Jessica had never been stood up before. But it was the fact that she was completely blindsided by it that really got to her.

It was 7:34. Jake was more than thirty minutes late. He wasn't coming. She had been stringing him along for too long without giving him her phone number. Or maybe she really was just as dull as she thought she was. Regardless, she was going to have to stand up from her table and walk back past the bar and out the front door. Alone. She recognized two of her students sitting a few tables over, and she wanted to cry. Doing this pathetic walk of shame out of Chippy's would be enough to have her in tears on the drive home. She just knew it.

"Shit," she muttered to herself as she slid off of her stool so her heels clicked against the dirty floor. She adjusted her glasses with the backs of her fingers and then picked up the journals she brought with her along with her purse. Then she tried to keep her face neutral as she nodded at Chippy who looked extremely displeased behind the bar.

"Night, Reedy," he murmured as she walked past. She wished she could reach the big trash can from this side of the bar, because what sane woman keeps giving a hot man scientific journals all the time? She'd throw them away in the dumpster near where she parked. And then she would go home and reevaluate just how she managed to mess this whole thing up in the analytical way her mind wanted her to.

She skirted past her students and pushed the door open to the cool, evening air and the sounds of traffic. She managed to let out the breath she had been holding, but now the tears were right there, and she was hoping to get home before they spilled over.

"Jessica!"

She knew it was Jake. She knew his voice. She also knew she couldn't run to her car in high heels fast enough before he caught up with her. So she turned toward his voice and waited on the sidewalk as he rushed toward her.

He looked like a mess with grease stains on his jeans. His hair was disheveled, and he was all sweaty. "I'm sorry I'm late," he panted, out of breath with his hands on his hips and his head tipped back as he gasped for air.

She wasn't sure what to make of him like this. She didn't know if she even wanted to try. "I'm just going to head home," she replied softly, taking a step in the opposite direction. "It's already 7:40."

His eyes looked desperate when they met hers. "Fuck!" he grunted under his breath, broad chest rising and falling rapidly. "Stay? Please? Just let me get you one drink? And we can talk?" He was so handsome, she desperately wanted to cave and still spend the rest of the night drinking cheap beers and eating peanuts with him.

"Why are you late?" Jessica asked, adjusting her glasses. "I thought you were looking forward to Chippy's." She kind of shrugged like she was already expecting some stupid excuse, and then Jake brought his hand up to her cheek and brushed her hair back with his fingers.

"My truck was in the shop last week, and it appears to be having problems again. Once it stalled out and I couldn't get it started again, I just left it and ran here. Because I have absolutely been looking forward to Chippy's. And you look beautiful, by the way," he drawled softly, fingers tangled with her hair as his breathing evened out.

"Where did you leave your truck?" she asked, leaning slightly into his touch.

"By the Starbucks on Collier Avenue," he replied softly, green eyes fixed on hers.

Then Jessica gasped. "That's like five miles away!"

"Mmhmm," he hummed. "I should have just left it there as soon as it died, but I tried to mess with it first. That's why I'm so late. I'm sorry."

"Oh." She didn't know what else to say. He ran five miles to get here.

"Yeah. Oh," he said with an edge to his voice. "I emailed your university account, but I figured you don't check it after you're done working for the night. And I still don't have your phone number, or I would have called you immediately."

Jessica felt warmth in her cheeks as Jake closed the distance between them like he was going to kiss her. "If you give me another chance and your phone number, I'll buy a new car before our next date to guarantee I'm on time. Or I can just leave early enough to run the whole way."

She giggled softly. "You're funny, Jake."

He just shook his head and said, "I'm pretty serious right now, Reedy." Then his gaze dipped down to her lips, and Jessica could tell he wanted to kiss her. His fingertips were still gently tangled in some strands of her hair. His body was warm as he crowded her against the outside of the bar, and she was flattered that he ran to get to her.

"You must be thirsty after all that running," she whispered, tugging on the collar of his shirt.

He turned his head so his lips brushed along her knuckles, and she gasped as he said, "I'm thirsty for more than beer or water, Jess. But I'd still love to take you inside and get some drinks and some peanuts."

And then she found herself nodding and leading him toward the door.

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

The bartender was glaring at Jake as soon as he held the door open for Jessica, and it just intensified when he let his hand rest on her lower back. "Reedy?" the other man called out, absolutely scowling as he let his fist rest on the bartop.

"It's okay, Chippy," she replied, glancing up at Jake as she walked toward the only empty table in the dive bar.

"The bartender is actually Chippy himself? The man, the legend?" Jake asked softly as he pulled out one of the stools for Jessica and watched her set her journals and cute little purse on the table.

When she slid onto the seat and crossed her legs, she said, "Yes. Don't mess with Chippy. That man was nice to me when nobody else was."

Jake studied her pretty face as she adjusted her glasses. "Who in their right mind wouldn't be sweet to you?"

She looked down at the journals and pushed them aside like she was suddenly embarrassed. "It's been known to happen."

"Shouldn't though," he replied, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Now let me go mend fences with your main squeeze. I want to be able to show my face in this fine establishment again in the future."

Jessica was smiling brightly at him as he turned toward the bar where Chippy was wiping the same spot with a rag over and over again. "Good evening," Jake said to the older man who still looked like he wanted to snap Jake in half. "Could I get two pints of whichever beer is Reedy's favorite?"

"Sam Adams," he grunted, tossing the rag aside. "And sometimes I get the Sam seasonal kegs for her. When I can."

Jake just nodded. Chippy was a big fan of Jessica's. He really needed to make sure this guy liked him, and he was pretty sure leaving another massive tip was not the answer. "Right. Two Sam Adams pints then, please."

Without another word, Chippy pulled two beers from the tap for Jake, setting them down a little hard in front of him before he scooped a bowl of peanuts.

"Thank you," Jake told him as the bowl of peanuts came thudding down next to the beers.

While Jake dug a ten dollar bill out of his wallet, Chippy grunted again. "She waited a long time for you to show up." His voice was accusatory.

Jake smoothed the bill between his thumb and index finger, stealing a glance at Jessica a few tables away. She was playing with her hair and reading something with a soft smile on her lips. He turned back toward the bar and met Chippy's eyes. "It won't happen again."

"No. It won't. Because next time I'll kick you out permanently," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you can even manage to get a next time, that is."

"That's certainly the goal," Jake informed him.

"Well, a lot of men look, that's for sure. And I think she's oblivious to most of 'em. But not you, for some reason," Chippy said, scowling once again. "Handsome and annoying," he muttered. "Be nice to her or I'll kick you out once and for all." Then he reached for the rag again, completely ignoring Jake.

"Right." Jake picked up both glasses in one hand and grabbed the pretzels, and he headed back to the table and Jessica.

"Did you have a nice conversation?" she asked with an amused expression as Jake slid one of the beers in her direction and sat on the stool opposite her.

He leaned on the table and whispered, "Not particularly. Pretty sure he'd happily kick me out given the opportunity. I had to swear on my life I'd never be late again."

She laughed behind her pint before taking a sip. "His bark is worse than his bite. Mostly. But actually, the head of the chemistry department has a lifetime ban, so maybe not."

"Damn," Jake murmured, taking a sip of his own beer. "Was he late meeting you two times in a row?"

Jessica looked down into her beer, swirling the glass gently, a solemn look on her face. "Something like that...let's just say the fact that Brian Conley isn't allowed in here is just one of the reasons this is my preferred hangout."

"Okay," Jake said softly, wondering if this Conley character had anything to do with the rumors Bradshaw's wife had been telling him about. Regardless, he was going to side with Chippy on this one. Conley could eat shit if Jessica didn't like him. "We hate Brian Conley," Jake told her as they both reached for the peanuts.

For some reason this got Jessica laughing again. "We do," she said as she picked up a few peanuts and held her hand open to him. Jake rubbed his thumb along her palm before selecting one and cracking into it. "Now, did Chippy tell you I like Sam Adams? Or did you guess from last time we were here?"

Jake tossed the shell on the floor and said, "You think I'd leave that up to chance? I one hundred percent asked him just to be sure. And now I know what kind of beer to buy if you agree to come to my place and let me cook dinner for you."

Jessica froze with her hand in the air, ready to throw her peanut shell. "You know how to cook?"

"Yeah," he replied with a smile. "I love it, actually. I usually meal prep on Sundays after I buy all my groceries for the week."

She was gaping at him. "There are two of you with the uniforms and the kitchen skills?"

Jake laughed, realizing she must have been referring to Bradshaw as well. "First of all, he's married. I'm single." She finally tossed her peanut shell and rolled her eyes.

"I finally made a friend at work," she said, cracking another shell and throwing this one at him. "You think I'm going to risk that by even looking at her husband for a second too long? No."

Jake tried to keep a straight face as he said, "Nobody's gonna get mad if you look at me all day long, Reedy."

"Tempting," she said before sipping her drink without meeting his eye.

"And," he added, running his fingers along her palm as she handed him more peanuts, "the kitchen isn't the only room where I have skills."

She met his eyes and adjusted her glasses with a smirk. "Care to tell me more about that, Lieutenant Seresin?"

He nodded and said, "I'm really good in the living room, too. You should see how well I can lay on the couch and watch University of Texas football."

She laughed and said, "I almost forgot for a second that you're from Texas."

"How did you know I'm from Texas? And, oh shit... did all those A&M boys already ruin my chances for me? I almost never wear my boots and hats around, I swear."

Jake grinned as she threw more peanut shells at him. "Stop!" she whispered as she laughed, and Jake loved the sound of it. "The only thing they ruined for me is Lone Star beer and line dancing."

Now he was laughing, because yeah, that made sense. "You're a Yankee, obviously. Don't tell the Texans I've been visiting you at work. They won't stand for it."

"Oh, sounds like Romeo and Juliet," she replied. "Except without the balconies, old English, and hermits giving out free drugs to children."

"Wait," he said, now the one who was laughing too hard. "My condo has a balcony."

"Shiiit," she whispered, eyes wide in feigned shock. "I was hoping this was a comedy, not a tragedy."

"Oh, it's definitely a comedy, Jessica. The audience is in riotous laughter over the fact that I still don't have your phone number."

This time she had to cover her mouth with one hand as she laughed. And when Jake glanced toward the bar, Chippy looked decidedly less aggressive now when he met his gaze.

"You Yankee girls must have a very particular vetting process. You from New York?"

"Massachusetts," she replied, still giggling. "I went to MIT undergrad."

"That explains the Sam Adams. Also, I'm never getting your phone number, am I?" he asked playfully, reaching across the small table and tucking her pretty hair behind her ear again while she laughed. "You've got me showing up to see you at work and running five miles for dates."

"Don't count yourself out quite yet," she said as he stroked her cheek.

"And you got me reading physics journals on my couch while the college games are on," he added softly. "You brought some more for me to take home?" he asked, dropping his hand and tapping the stack on the table next to her elbow.

But now she had a dreamy look in her eyes. "You really read them instead of watching the game?"

"Mmhmm." He nodded and said, "Picked one up at halftime and realized I missed the entire third quarter before I was done reading it."

Her lips were softly parted as she blinked at him. "Yeah. I brought you some more. But you have to promise you'll read them all cover to cover."

"I always do."

"Good. You won't be disappointed."

Jake laughed and looked down at the peanut shell in his hand before he tossed it over his shoulder just to make her smile. "I doubt you could ever disappoint me, Jessica."

God, the way she looked at him when he dished out something sweet could probably bring him to his knees. And the thing was, it was never a line. He wasn't throwing out bullshit to see if landed. He meant every word of it. Her eyes were unguarded as they always seemed to be with him now, and he couldn't believe he almost completely blew this evening with his fucking truck.

It was getting a little late now, and he needed to try to secure the next date while she was still looking at him with those dreamy eyes. He just didn't want her to think he had any certain set of expectations but suggesting his place.

"You know," he started, "my couch is big enough for both of us to watch some football and read some journals together. I could buy some Sam Adams, and we could make dinner together on Saturday night."

He watched her front teeth sink into her lip. She was hesitating. And it was killing him a little bit. "I think I can make that work," she said slowly, sliding the journals across the table as his heart pounded.

"Gonna need your phone number so I can text you my address," he whispered, reaching for her hand before she pulled it away. "Please?"

He drew a little heart on her palm with the tip of his index finger, and a smile bloomed across her face. "You'll find it, Jake. I know you will." And then she slowly closed her hand and stood, leaving him to pick up the journals. "But it's getting late, and Thursdays are early for me."

"Right." He followed her past the bar and watched her wave to Chippy who looked at her with a very kind smile before giving Jake a look of warning. And maybe he needed that warning, because he was looking at the gorgeous swell of her ass and enjoying the way she walked in high heels a little too much. So he nodded at Chippy, and kept his eyes on her wavy hair instead.

Once they were outside, Jessica dragged the toe of one of her shoe a few inches along the sidewalk as she leaned against the building. "Thanks for the three dollar beer," she said with a smile.

"You know, I'm pretty sure Chippy would give them to you for free if you were alone."

Her smile turned into another pretty laugh. "You're not wrong. Do you need a ride back to your truck?"

"Wouldn't mind one since I need to get it towed," he murmured, not quite ready to move from this spot where her face looked so perfect in the dim light. "But I'd be more than happy to run the five miles back."

And then her right hand reached up to tug on his shirt collar, and she didn't look so hesitant now as he eased himself closer, letting his hand rest on the wall next to her. "You have a peanut shell in your hair," she whispered, releasing his collar and brushing her fingers along his temple.

Jake swallowed hard. His lips were just a few inches from hers as he softly said, "That's probably because a beautiful woman was throwing them at me."

Her laugh was quiet and breathy, and then the space between their lips was negligible. And then she was kissing him with her small hand wrapped gently around his neck. Jessica was smiling against his lips, and he wasn't used to it being this sweet. He didn't kiss the girls from the bar like this, and they never teased his cheek with the tip of their nose or ran their thumb delicately behind his ear.

Oh, he was going to crave this now. Soft, exploratory kisses that tasted like beer and peanuts. And the sound of her soft moan as he let his hand trail from the wall near her shoulder down along her side to her waist. Yeah, this was going to become a necessity for Jake.

She brushed her lips along his again before looking up at him with surprised eyes as he held her a little tighter. And then six more little kisses while her hand trailed down his neck. "I was really afraid you stood me up earlier," she whispered, trailing some kisses along his chin.

"I wouldn't do that, Baby. You have any idea how much I wanted tonight to happen?" Jake had one hand full of physics journals and one hand full of Jessica, and he was already thinking about what he might cook for dinner on Saturday night.

With a soft laugh, she started to lead him down the sidewalk to her car. And he got to do even more things he never really did. Like open her car door instead of call her a cab at two in the morning. And lean over from the passenger seat and kiss her cheek gently as she started the engine.

"What's your day looking like tomorrow, Dr. Reed?" he asked, linking his fingers loosly with hers for the short drive to his truck.

"Department meeting, lectures, more lectures, a lab, and then my office hours."

Jake's mind was already working on a plan. "I have a long day ahead of me, too. There's my truck," he said, pointing to the piece of shit he was afraid he was going to have to replace.

Jessica pulled up next to it and put her car in park, but when she reached for the key, he covered her hand with his. "Just leave me here. I'll get it towed to the garage again and then get Bradshaw to drive me home from there. I want you to go right home. It's late and it's dark out."

Jake wrapped her hand around the steering wheel again as she said, "Okay." But the single word was muffled by his lips crashing against hers. He kissed her long and hard one time, and her glasses were a little crooked when he was done. He straightened them out before he reached for the door handle.

"I had a great time tonight. I'm sorry I almost ruined it by being late."

"You made up for it by running five miles," she whispered. "Night, Jake."

And then he was watching her pull back into traffic as he called for a tow truck, keeping his eyes on her brake lights until they were out of sight. Just for good measure he looked up some new trucks for sale as he sat behind his steering wheel, but that got boring after a few minutes. And then he thought about the way Jessica told him she was confident he would find her number.

He lunged for the journals sitting on the seat next to him, and he spread them out to read all the covers. His eyes caught on an edition of Applied Physics from late last year that said Jessica Reed, PhD. on the cover under an article title about combustion in jets.

"It's gotta be," he whispered as the tow truck arrived, and he frantically flipped to the page where her article had been printed. He would read the whole thing later. He wanted to read the whole thing later. But right now his eyes settled on a small, handwritten note. He recognized her writing from the mini lecture he'd accidentally attended, and a smile crept along his lips.

Jake,

If you made it this far, you can call or text me anytime.

Her number was written beneath it, and he was entering her as a contact in his phone when he got out to talk to the tow truck driver. He felt like he just won the lottery as he added the picture of her he had saved from the San Diego State University website as her contact photo.

Jessica, I'm sending you my address for Saturday. You and me, my couch, physics journals, college football and dinner? Please say yes.

It was getting very late now, and maybe she wouldn't respond until tomorrow, but Jake felt like he was on cloud nine. He just kept thinking about how sweet Jessica was. About how he wouldn't mind wrapping her up in his arms for some more soft kisses on his couch.

Once the driver was unloading his truck at the garage, Jake opened a different contact on his phone and made a quick call.

"It's 10:30, Hangman. This better be important."

"Bradshaw. I need a ride home from the garage. My truck is acting up again," Jake replied, trying not to smile at how annoyed Rooster sounded.

An exasperated sigh carried through the phone, and then Jake could hear his wife in the background asking, "Who is it?"

"It's Hangman. He needs a ride."

"Oh, well we can always finish this later, Beer Boy." His wife sounded less annoyed than him, thankfully.

After a brief pause, Bradshaw said, "Give me twenty minutes. I need to get dressed."

"Thanks. Much appreciated," Jake replied. He dropped his keys into the overnight box with a note telling the mechanic he was having the same issues as last week. And then he waited for that blue Bronco to pull into the lot, and when Jake climbed in, Bradshaw looked pissed as hell.

"Do you have any idea what my wife was about to do to me when you called?" he growled, shifting into reverse before Jake even had the door closed.

"Come on, man. Your wife's hot, but I don't want to be imagining what the two of you get up to."

"She was about to reprimand me for turning in sloppy math homework," he said, completely disregarding Jake. "And I'm virtually sure she will no longer be in the mood for that when I get back at 11:30. So you owe me. I don't even know what you owe me yet, but it's going to be big. Because I'm assuming you expect me to give you a ride to work in the morning, too."

Jake cleared his throat and said, "If you wouldn't mind."

"Fuck," Rooster growled as he pulled up to Jake's condo building. "I'll pick you up at 7:30. Get the fuck out."

"Thanks," Jake said, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. Jessica had just texted him back, and he was all smiles even as the Bronco peeled away. He was in.

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

As Jessica undressed in her bedroom, she ran her fingers along her lace bra. She wondered what Jake's favorite color was, because she probably owned a pretty matching set that she would love to wear for him. She should have known this was going to happen; one kiss from him, and she was thinking about spending a lazy Sunday in bed with her fingers tangled in his hair.

"Stop," she told herself half heartedly with a dreamy smile in the mirror. She'd given him the journal with her number inside, and now she just had to wait. He'd probably find it by tomorrow. Maybe she would see him at her office hours again. Her whole body was tingling with excitement as she unclasped her bra, and then she heard the ping of her phone notifications.

She tossed her bra and bounded across the room in just her panties and saw a text from an unknown number.

Jessica, I'm sending you my address for Saturday. You and me, my couch, physics journals, college football and dinner? Please say yes.

She squealed as she flopped down onto her bed. He was good. It took him almost no time to find her phone number. She typed back a message as she thought about his big hands and his southern drawl. After she hit send, she closed her eyes and imagined everything she wanted to do to him in her office as she let her fingers glide along her body.

Don't forget the Sam Adams. See you on Saturday.

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

Yes! You run those five miles, Jake! Anyone else just love Chippy? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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munv · 3 months

Text

𝗜𝗠𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡 𝗘𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗬

𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗕𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗜𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗦𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗲𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂? 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗮𝗹𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼?

could you tell kaiser brain rot won? could you tell? could you tell?

September was just starting, but now looking back..you were already sick of it. Taking care of Sae was a journey in its own right, but your mother expecting a baby in possibly a few days? You needed some fresh air.

So that's exactly what you did.

At least..that is what you thought.

"Where are you going?" Sae's voice rang out through the living room. Staring at you with intent, trying to figure out what exactly was your game plan for today. Your Maine coon "Miko" was currently purring at your feet. She circled you in a way that made you feel caught. Which was scary in its own little way.

You shook a bit at the type of duo they both became, always seemingly to catch you in the act. "I'm going for a walk..I'll be back"

Sae gave you a stern glare in response "You said we'd play soccer this week" he stepped closer with each word before he was just inches in front of you. He looked up at you judgmentally. Miko let out a small 'meow' in agreement.

The sick little shit, you would have never picked her ass up from the street all those years ago if you knew she would pick sides. "I'm taking a walk Sae, and I said this week not today." You said stepping out of the circle Miko called home before putting on your shoes.

You ruffled his hair before opening the door, "I'll be back soon. Kay?"

"Hmph" Miko let out a dissatisfied mewl before trotting back on over to sae. "Alright love you!" You shut the door on him once again.. just like a particular chapter.

The small boy flushed before walking away from the door "Nee-San is so weird..isn't she miko?" The cat purred in content before making way to her corner of the house once again.

It was a random park, very random indeed. How you ended up in this neighborhood? Not even you have the answers to that question. You walked aimlessly, at truth. It was a little bit windy but nothing that couldn't be handled.

A few birds, a cat here and there, a small stall you picked up teriyaki from, nothing beats this type of routine. Which was the initial thought before your teriyaki was snatched out of your hands "HOLY-" The culprit? A soccer ball in all its glory. 'a soccer ball...just..took my teriyaki? am I finally reaching insanity?...oh my god, is this the world getting payback for not playing soccer with Sae?' what you failed to notice was that there was a voice calling out to you.

before you was a young boy, most likely around your age, with messy blonde hair almost completely spilled over his shoulders with a generous shade of blue to shade his eyes. He was only a little bit taller than you, but other than that he seemed worried at your downcast expression. If the boy didn't see what the soccer ball did to your teriyaki, he would have thought he hit your dog and killed it on the spot!

"Geht es dir gut? Oh Gott, habe ich dich irgendwo getroffen?!" at this rate he was shaking with despair and worry. Snapping out of your senses, you realized he wasn't exactly speaking Japanese, and by the time he finished spluttering, he probably had a self-realization he wasn't exactly speaking Japanese either. Now, you weren't any language on a star, but you were smart enough to know this kid was probably German or something.

But from the worry in his voice, you could at least pick up that he was probably asking if you were ok and a hint of extra sorry's in there. "uh.." you didn't have much to say, but being on your second life did have its benefits, for you studied a bit of french and german here and there. Though French was much easier you were grateful to have at least put a bit of effort into learning German. "Mir geht es gut, danke?"

The blonde boy looked surprised, which worried you by a hell tone. Did you say it right? oh shit, did you accidentally curse him out? he gave you a small smile before waving and picking up his soccer ball to run off to..wherever he was beforehand.

So, you lost your teriyaki, met a cute German boy, and almost got spiraled into the pearly white gates in the process by the same soccer ball that took your teriyaki; but..looking back that hit could have been a serious one, that kid had some serious potential to become a striker.

You've decided from the short encounter today that you've had about enough, and it's about time to start your mini trek home. Well, that was the old plan before you ended up looking at Google Maps. You weren't lost! no no, it was simply called..adapting to your new surroundings, you know. The little einsteins shit where they have a destination in mind but end up soaring somewhere weird. Maybe the magic school bus would explain this better, you know where you ended up where you wanted to go but got up in a small situation and lost. This was you we were talking about though! Not lost, just a little clueless.

You turned a corner and managed to spot the same little guy from earlier, you realized that you could've pulled out Google Translate but that would've been rude. So sucking in your ego, you approached the blonde boy and tapped his shoulder.

You weren't all too sure as to what he was doing, just holding the soccer ball and all but he seemed pretty lonely, and you were pretty clueless right now so it was a win-win situation. Not to assume he doesn't have friends or anything right?

He looked at you with surprise again, Jesus, it looked like he wanted to express himself so badly but just couldn't. I mean, if you were in Japan with little to no Japanese skills you don't think you would be able to speak German expecting almost anyone you meet to understand you.

quickly hoping to get this over with, you typed out something on your phone and showed it to him. Thank God your parents actually trusted younger you with a phone and an even bigger plus you knew how to use it properly this time. he looked back at the translation on your phone before looking back at you and nodding. He took it from and you carefully typed out a few responses, and to be frank with yourself, the boy you learned whos name is "Kaiser" suited him.

If only your Sae was this nice..you wouldn't have a stroke every now and then. he gave a small laugh to one of your snarky responses on google translate before finally leading you down a path, the more you two walked and talked (more like typed) the more fun it was.

something in the conversation went like "you have a little sibling?"

"yeah, i got another one on the way right now too."

"what's it like?"

"wouldn't you like to know?"

and some more that went into depth like

"it's ok to feel in the dumps yknow, but you should always carry some self-respect and discipline too"

"you sound a bit old, but..i'll think about it. thanks"

"i'll ignore the 'old' person comment and your welcome"

By the time you finished sharing your last laugh, you had arrived at your destination. Waving a small goodbye and a quick hug you made it inside your home with a small content sigh.

ITOSHI OMAKE "why."

Sae's face was adorned with a frown while staring at his mother, sometimes his eyes would stray down to the round belly she had, where his new sibling would soon come from. But that wasn't today's topic. His tone was demanding for someone of his age, and his father had to remind him sometimes of how he sounded, but he knew his son couldn't help it.

He was just naturally blunt he supposed.

He just needed to know why.

"sae, sweetheart..you're saying it as if your older sister isn't allowed to be happy?"

That's not what he was asking, and she knew that. He wanted to know the reason why you felt so off when he went to bother you earlier.

You weren't even gone for that long! Miko told him everything and those two have an inseparable bond, so he would know what she was saying, and she told him you met a male. Not a boy, whoever interacts with his nee-san is stripped of the same title as him. Therefore by default, he is above all those bone-picking fiends that have tried to come close to you so far.

With a huff he got up and marched his way upstairs with his cat companion, opening your door to little to no knocking whatsoever.

"who is it."

he questioned

you looked confused, of course, you'd be confused, whatever boy turned fiend it was, screwed up your perfectly healthy and beautiful brain that would help him with homework, and now you've taken a liking to it. He can't believe it! it was just a couple of days ago you rejected one of those things too!

Did they swarm you and infect you regardless by chance?

"Sae..what on God's infected earth are you talking about?"

"That's the exact problem. It's infected, and you've become one of them." he sighed.

what the fuck was he talking about?..

"miko, hold her down, we must bring her to her senses."

before you could react, a big white main coon had already jumped unto you and suffocated you in her fur as you wriggled for air. "WHAT THE HELL?"

Sae closed the door behind him as he approached your already struggling figure.

"don't worry nee-san..we'll fix you."

Your parents sat on the couch that day listening to screams and cries for the rest of the day.

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hi Bee🐝 I hope you’re having a nice weekend❣️

I had a Joel fic idea I wanted to send you in case you are looking for inspo? If not just ignore this lmao.

I thought it would be kind of cute to have a fic where r likes to read even after the world went to hell and whenever she goes with Joel somewhere and he luckily finds a book he knows she hasn’t read he picks it up for her as a gift😭 and r reads out loud for them when they’re camping, oblivious to Joel’s feelings until one day he gives r a book she mentioned she loved when she was younger and she’s like oh, you feel the same way 😭

AN | I love this, this is so soft and I love this concept! I hope you like it too 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Always buried in a book," his tease was accompanied by a warm chuckle as you looked up and found Joel strolling into the makeshift library. Your smile was beaming as you marked your page and set the book down to give him your full attention, "what are you readin' now?"

"Nothing terribly exciting," you confessed with a huff, nodding in the direction of your latest selection, "the Hobbit. I think I've read it a dozen times by now. As a matter of fact I think I've read all of these books at least twice."

"Hard to expand a library when people aren't writing anymore," Joel rubbed at his beard thoughtfully as you nodded sadly, "its a shame."

"I never thought I'd see the day when I couldn't go to the bookstore or library for a new book," you looked away, blinking back your tears. It wasn't just the book thing - it was everything, "but here we are. I like to write my own stories sometimes but it's not the same. I already know the beginning, middle, and end and all the plot twists when it's all in my head."

He hummed in understanding as you felt him study you intently. Your face warmed up under his intense gaze as tugged at a loose thread on the sleeve of your sweater, “is there a reason you read the same thing multiple times?”

“I’ve always read a lot,” you tucked your legs up and under yourself on the overstuffed chair. You focused on the fire that was crackling away merrily, knowing that you had his undivided attention, “it was always a good form of escapism when I was younger and turns out it also works these days with all of…this. I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, I always had a hard time fitting in. When things got bad, there was always a book to turn to.”

“Did you have a favorite?” you huffed in amusement as you turned to him with a no duh expression. The look on your face made him laugh as well, and he reached over to give your shoulder a gentle squeeze, “what was it?”

“You’re going to laugh…”

“I promise I won’t,” he insisted, accompanied by a silent shake of his shoulders which led you to raise your eyebrows at him, “I’ll do my best not to.”

“A true man of honor,” you rested your chin in your hand as you looked over at him, “prideandprejudice.”

“Come again?” he was teasing you, the question filled with tender affection, “didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart.”

“You’re the worst,” you groaned softly, hiding your face in your hands, “you heard me loud and clear - Pride and Prejudice. I know it’s silly but I’ve just always loved it.”

“I don’t think that’s silly at all,” he promised as you relaxed slightly. It wasn’t that you needed his approval or hoped he felt the same way, but there was something about his response and how tenderly he watched you that it made your tummy explode with butterflies, “it’s nice to have something familiar to hang onto - it’s nice to have a friend.”

“I agree,” oh. He really had to stop looking at you like that before you melted into a puddle on the floor, “I haven’t read it in forever.”

“Haven’t found a copy or just haven’t had the desire to read it?”

“Haven’t found it,” you sighed dramatically, before smiling back at him, “maybe one day I will, and if I do, I’m going to make you read it as well - I’ll even read it out loud for you.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Umm…I dunno,” you mused as he shook his head fondly, “both? Which one is worse?”

“I don’t think I’d ever feel threatened by you,” he began as you gave him a mock-hurt little expression, “you’re very tough, but I’m sorry sweetheart, you’re too soft. Which isn’t a bad thing. So, tell you what, you ever get your hands on a copy of Pride and Prejudice, I’d love to have you read it out loud for me.”

“Yeah?” you looked at him with soft doe eyes that made his heart constrict.

“Promise.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel liked your smile; it was pretty, even if you shied away from it at times. It always worked to make his heart constrict with emotion, and he’d long formed his own little plan to make you smile as often as he could. You weren’t privy to that just yet, but that was okay. As long as you were happy that was all that mattered.

His favorite way, as he’d found after that afternoon in the library, was surprising you with a new book. Realistically, it wasn’t much, but it was the meaning behind the gesture, and the fact that even though he was out in the big, bad outside, he was thinking about you.

Book after book he found for you, some almost new, perfectly preserved in time, and some already aged and loved before everything fell apart. But it never mattered, it was all about the face that he did just for you. The old, rickety bookcase in your small apartment was soon filled with new titles, some you’d already and others you’d never even heard of, all lovingly placed and organized. One of the many reasons you didn’t mind these small tokens of affection from Joel was the fact that it gave you more reasons to spend time with him.

As the months passed, you got to know Joel more and more, learning about his life from before the Outbreak to present. You shared just as much with him and in a way it felt like the two of you had always been friends, like two wandering souls that had found their way back to each other. You never would have thought that someone like him would ever even want to spend time with you, but you fit together like perfect puzzle pieces.

On this particular evening you found yourself in his backyard, along with Ellie and a few other friends that you’d made in Jackson. Some moonshine had been passed around, and lots of exciting stories had been exchanged. You were listening to everyone, mostly staying more on the quiet side when you realized you didn’t have much to contribute to the current conversation at hand.

“What about you?” Joel was sitting on your side and leaned into your space, gently nudging your leg with his. You blinked a few times, tearing your attention away from the fire and turning it to him with a confused look on your face, “what’s your best camping story?”

“Oh,” you grinned sheepishly as you looked around the circle and found nothing but friendly faces looking back at you. Your cheeks warmed up as you shrugged innocently, “I’ve never actually been camping. So I wouldn’t know….unfortunately.”

“What?” Joel seemed surprised but quickly caught himself and slipped into the soft tone that he often adopted for you, “I knew there had to be something wrong with you - there had to be a flaw somewhere.”

“And never having been camping is my flaw?” you teased right back, unaware of the knowing smiles that were being exchanged all around.

“That’s right,” he insisted, leaning in even closer, causing your heart to skip a few beats, “but don’t worry, there will still be time to fix that.”

“What a gentleman,” you down the rest of your drink, shaking your head in amusement.

“Would you look at the time…” Ellie almost jumped out of her seat, pointedly looking around the circle and motioning with her head that it was time to leave, “it’s late and we’re all tired, so we’re gonna…go.”

“All of you at once?” Joel raised an eyebrow as he looked at the girl, knowing better than anything by this point. She nodded with narrowed eyes as everyone said their goodbyes, leaving just the two of you. Joel let out a long sigh as he leaned back in his chair and smiled at you, “very subtle.”

Your mind started to reel with possibilities as to what he meant. You knew what you wanted him to mean, but you also weren’t about to flatter yourself like that. Joel wouldn’t ever like you as more than a friend, right? Right.

The way you looked at him with such wide, gentle eyes made him want to pull you into his lap and kiss you until there was no mistaking what he was saying. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments before you cleared your throat softly.

"I guess I should get going too," you whispered, still unmoving, "it's late."

As soon as you stood up but before you could go, you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist as he gently held you back.

You turned around to face him, neither of you speaking, just studying each other. He had lovely eyes, soft despite all the years of hardness, his lips pulled into a soft smile.

Before you could stop yourself with too much logic, you leaned in and kissed him. You wondered if it was all a huge mistake, but to your surprise, he kissed you right back. His hands found purchase on your waist and yours on his shoulders as you let him kiss you

Until you came to your senses and realized what you were doing. You gasped in surprise and pulled back, looking at him worriedly as Joel dropped his hands from your waist. You blinked back the tears that had immediately threatened to well up, panicking that you had crossed any remaining boundaries that either of you had remaining.

"I-I am so sorry," you whispered, touching your lips without thinking about it, "I have to go. I'm sorry."

You were gone before Joel could even process what had just happened.

When he did, he hung his head and sighed heavily. He hoped he hadn't just fucked everything up.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

In the following week, you weren’t actively trying to avoid Joel…but you were definitely making sure you weren’t around whenever he was. You just had no idea how to broach the subject or if it even needed to be discussed. The idea of going up to him and saying anything made you want to curl up and wither away - it might have been dramatic but you were willing to allow yourself a little bit of theatrics.

But…you realized later on, Joel hadn’t fought off your advances. He’d actively kissed you back, and taken control. Maybe he’d wanted it just as much as you had. Or, or, you’d taken advantage of him, because you’d both been drinking. That made it all worse, and made your stomach churn.

Either way, your plan was to avoid him - if not forever - for as long as you could.

Unfortunately, Joel was a stubborn man and wasn’t about to let you go without any explanations. And you weren’t exactly particularly sneaky; he found you in your usual spot, perched on the window seat with a book open in your lap as you stared out the window.

“Hey,” you startled at the sound of his voice, but turned to him with a shy smile. He approached you slowly, almost as if he was afraid that he was going to scare you off like some sort of wild animal, “figured you’d be here.”

“Well,” you waved your hands around dismally before tucked your book away, “I’m not exactly hard to find if you know me. I’m a creature of habit.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with that,” he came over and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his broad chest, “I have a surprise for you.”

“O-oh, Joel,” you swallowed thickly and wondered what on earth he could possibly be referring to, “I-I don’t need anything…seriously.”

“I didn’t get you anything technically,” ah. Joel and his little technicalities, “more of a ‘we’re doing this,’ type of thing.”

“And what is it that we’re doing?”

“Camping,” he stated with a grin as you just blinked at him in shock.

“Pardon?”

“We - you, Ellie, and I - are going camping,” he stated again as if that would clear everything up, “just a little something I’ve been planning since you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I-I have not been avoiding you,” a lie. You both knew that much, “just…busy.”

“Whatever the reason,” he insisted, “we’re goin’ camping. We’re leaving bright and early in the morning so make sure your things are packed.”

“Joel-”

“We’ll be ‘round at eight,” he gave your leg a gentle pat before heading out, not letting you get a word in edgewise. This man.

You watched him go, feeling so alive and nervous at the same time, but more importantly, you were excited to go.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As it turned out, camping was a lot more fun than you thought it would be. You were pretty sure a lot of it had to do with your present company. Ellie and Joel were always fun to be around and this was no exception.

Joel had scouted out a remote but safe location near a river where you made camp. There was something rewarding about putting up your own tent and making a fire to cook your dinner on. It was definitely a welcome change; it almost made it seem like the world had never fallen apart.

One particular evening, Ellie had crashed early and was already in the tent sleeping. That felt you and Joel outside sitting next to the fire. When the conversation hit a natural lull, Joel stood up and walked over to his backpack. You watched him curiously, a smile dancing on your face.

"Close your eyes," he called back to you. You playfully closed your eyes and put your hands over him. He chuckled as he pulled something out of the pack before zipping it closed.

He made his way back over to you, gently placing something in your lap. You made a small sound of surprise but didn't dare to open your eyes. Instead, you waited for him to give you the go ahead.

He sat back down next to you, groaning slightly at his stiff bones. You felt him pull your hands away from your eyes, "alright, you can go ahead and open your eyes."

"Joel, you really didn't need to get me anything!" You gasped as you looked at the object in your lap, trying to hide back a squeal of delight, "Joel. This is amazing."

"You like it?" He asked, nervous as he watched you inspect the small object.

"Pride and Prejudice," you opened the cover and flicked through some of the gold leafed pages. It was still in impeccable condition, "oh my god, I can't believe you found this - you remembered."

“‘course I did,” any nerves he had remaining quickly dissipated when he saw the look of pure joy on your face, “I remember a lot of things.”

“I mentioned it like one time,” you flipped through some of the pages, touching your fingers over the worn but love pages, “I can’t…this is wonderful, a-and so kind. Thank you so much, Joel.”

“You mentioned how much you used to like it,” oh no. He felt like he could melt into a puddle at how sweet you were, “and I wanted you to have it again. So I’ve been keeping my eye out for it.”

“You’ve been looking for it?” alright, you were about ready to cry at that point. He nodded, trying to make it seem like less of a big deal than it actually was, “you’re amazing. I can’t…this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

“It’s not that big of a thing-”

“It’s everything,” you clutched the book to your chest, “this means everything to me.”

“You mean everything to me,” his voice was gentle. You gasp inwardly at the revelation, “I thought it was only fitting.”

You moved closer to him on the log, shifting your body so you could face him. Your eyes locked onto his; he could see the hesitation on your face and in your body language. He decided to answer your silent question by putting his hand on your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

Joel leaned in and kissed you, so quickly and delicately that you were almost convinced you might have imagined it. Judging from the expression on his face, you knew that it had definitely happened. You hadn’t just dreamed it last time - he wanted this too. You leaned into him and pressed a few more kisses to his lips, the two of you lingered but neither of you pushing.

“There’s something I have to ask you,” he tucked a few stray locks of hair behind your hair as you felt your face grow warm again. The effect he had on you was palpable.

“Anything.”

“Will you read to me?” the way the smile on your face was intoxicating and Joel was hooked, “I’ve never read Pride and Prejudice.”

“Shocker,” you teased softly, “are you sure though?”

“Positive,” he promised as he took your hand and led you over to the nest of warm blankets that were near the fire, “nothing would make me happier.”

“Okay,” you made yourself comfortable and pulled out the book, “get comfy and let’s get started.”

“Okay.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo

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endlessthxxghts · 3 months

Text

Liquid Gold

Frankie Morales x afab!reader || W/C: 2.7k (a oneshot)

Summary: Frankie gets turned on by your love for caramel. (Read a tiny continuation of these two here, titled Comfortable!)

Content/Warnings: Pics above are for aesthetic purposes only. No physical descriptions of reader, everything is neutral. I am in fact a nonbinary girly who describes their coochie with she/her pronouns LMFAO, and both you and Frankie do that here. Feminine pet names (querida, cariño, sweet girl). You also really love caramel - like a lot. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Inappropriate use of caramel. Food play. Kitchen sex. Hickey/marking kink. Lots of tongue action. Breast worship. Cunnilingus (He's Frankie the munch, what can I say?). Fingering/finger fucking. P in V unprotected sex. Creampie... hint of a breeding kink (I'll be tame with it.. for now..). Frankie, the aftercare KING!! (Please let me know if I've missed anything xoxo.)

A/N: I was eating caramel and apples, and I couldn't stop groaning at the sweetness LMFAOOO I really fucking love caramel. Then I got horny and started thinking about Frankie. Don't we love the ways inspiration strikes? Hope you enjoy my delulus. Much love, my babies.

MASTERLIST || NOTIFS BLOG

“Mmm,” you moan. “So fucking good,” you mutter to yourself, licking the tips of your fingers to clean the residue.

“...Querida?” Frankie calls out from the living room. “What are you, uh…” he pauses to take a deep breath in and out, his cock stirring at the faint lewd noises coming from the kitchen. “What are you doing, baby?”

“Mmm,” you hum again in delight before responding back to him. “Nothing, baby, just grabbing a snack, I’ll be right there,” you say.

Okay, his curiosity is definitely getting the better of him. He rises from his place on the couch, and nothing would prepare him for what his eyes were about to witness.

You’re leaning over the counter, a plate below you with neatly cut apple slices, and you have a bottle of caramel in one hand. Your other hand is placed underneath the spout as you squeeze a dollop onto your finger, the thick liquid running down your digit before you have a chance to stop it. You quickly bring your finger into your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut at the sweetness, another delicious vibration escaping your throat.

Frankie literally has to perch himself against the nearest wall to stop his knees from buckling. He knows how much you love your caramel, but he forgets just how much. The thud of his broad body against the wall is what forces your eyes open.

“Oh,” you gasp with a smile. “Hi, baby. Did you want some?” You ask him, sucking your finger once more for good measure, not wanting to make a mess at your impulse decision of practically drinking the sugary substance from its bottle.

You watch as his eyes track your finger’s movement, his gaze coming back up to linger on your lips for an extra moment. “N-no, that’s okay, querida,” he replies, distracted.

You tilt your head in response, trying to gauge where his thoughts are right now. Then, you look down.

Oh.

He’s thinking with his other head.

You break away from your side of the counter, caramel still in hand, and you make your way in front of him. Putting your body flush against his, you put your free hand on his chest, reaching for his chin with your thumb and forefinger. “You sure you don’t want any, baby?” You ask him, voice teasingly smooth. You nudge his mouth open; his tongue flattening out immediately for you. “Just give it a little try, it’s so sweet.”

You let the caramel dribble onto his tongue, and he retreats the muscle back inside when he thinks you’re done squeezing, but you don’t stop, letting it drip onto his pouty bottom lip. Your thumb is quick to run over it, not giving his tongue a chance to clean the mess you made.

Before he knows it, you’re pulling his mouth into yours, your tongue briefly darting around your thumb before you’re sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, nearly dropping the bottle of caramel with how addicting your senses are being consumed.

His response is just as quick, his arms snaking around your waist and backing you into the edge of the counter, pushing himself deeper into your mouth as your tongues overlap each other. The hand on his jaw is now wrapped tightly in his brown curls, keeping his mouth messily against yours.

You feel his hands tap against the bottom of your ass cheeks, and you take the hint. Settling the bottle down, you pull yourself up on the counter. Finally, the kiss breaks, but now he’s reaching for the hem of your top, flinging it over your head, letting it land only God knows where.

Frankie’s crowding your space, looking down at you, his chocolate brown eyes now pure black with lust. “Can I have another taste, querida?” He rasps into your mouth.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, your mind too turned on to register what he’s really asking. His hand is on the bottle instantly, squeezing a thick line of caramel across your naked chest. You choke on your breath at the sensation, your eyes fixated on the golden liquid starting to drip down, nearly reaching your nipples.

Frankie takes a step back to admire his work before he’s diving right in, the caramel bottle tossed back onto the counter as his hands find their home on your ass, pulling your hips into his as you lean back, giving him the space he needs to lick up his mess.

You feel his teeth softly graze the tops of your breasts, Frankie sucking with just the right amount of pressure for pretty little fireworks to ignite across your chest.

“Oh, fuck, Frankie-” you moan, eyes rolling back at the feeling. “Didn’t know- shit- didn’t know caramel is what does it for you,” you say with a weak smirk, your last few words higher in pitch than normal.

“It doesn’t,” he retorts, his tongue flicking across your nipple. “You do,” he growls, reaching for your other candy-glazed nipple.

Between your legs are fucking drenched, and fuck, he feels so good attached to your chest like this, but you need more—she needs more.

You’re yanking Frankie’s curls, pulling him off of you to look into his eyes—wild and desperate, he’s looking at you—his lips and chin glistening with a shine only sugar could provide. Fuck, you want that mouth somewhere else. You tell him as such. A cheeky grin spreads across his face. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he says leaning back in, kissing each breast for good luck before he reaches for the caramel once more, letting another thick drop fall down your sternum and belly, daring to drip in places it shouldn’t.

He follows the caramel’s path, open-mouthed kisses surfing down your torso, his tongue not letting any of it go to waste.

The lower he goes, the needier you become. “Please- please, baby- need you,” you heave, your head falling back between your shoulder blades at the overwhelming fire roaring between your legs.

“Paciencia, mi amor,” he whispers, kissing where the hem of your bottoms meets your tummy. “You’ve got me, cariño.”

His fingers reach for your bottoms, pulling them down swiftly as you raise yourself up to make it an easy removal.

Wasting no time, his mouth is kissing hotly on your mound, his tongue swirling your pubic area as your hips buck further into his face. He drags his mouth lower, a shiny trail of his sweet saliva coating every inch of you as he brings your throbbing bundle of nerves into his mouth and sucks—a near pornographic wail reverberates the kitchen walls, your back nearly giving way if it wasn’t for your other hand being planted onto the countertop.

“Jesus- Fuck, Frankie, oh my God, ohmyGod-” you pant, your chest rising and falling at an erratic rate as his mouth never stops its assault on your clit. One of his hands makes their way towards your entrance, Frankie’s two middle fingers surfing through your wetness before he prods inside with ease, his fingers always filling you up in a way your own fingers never could.

He curves his fingers just right, hitting your release button, forcing your floodgates open with absolutely no warning. “F-fuck, fuck! Fuck, baby, I’m cumming, oh, fuck, mmm just like that- shit-”

He pulls his mouth off of you, pulling away just enough to watch as you cream all over his fingers—your caramel dripping down his fingers as his mouth positively waters at the sight. “Jesus, hermosa,” Frankie breathes, his hot breaths fanning across your center sending an aftershock of shivers down your spine.

His fingers come to a halt, slowly slipping out of you as his eyes remain fixated at the sight. “Tan perfecta, mi amor,” he says mindlessly. You watch with bated breath to see what he does next.

He brings his fingers up to his mouth, eyes slowly rolling into the back of his head as he licks his fingers clean, practically purring at the way you taste. You whimper at the sight, an entire new wave of arousal leaks from your sex—crying again, for more.

“Frankie,” you whine.

For a second, Frankie genuinely got lost in your taste, forgetting everything around him but the way your flavor sits so addictingly across his taste buds. He could spend forever drinking from you if he could. “Lo siento, cariño, lo siento,” he says, truly apologetic. “You just taste so fucking good, I can’t help myself,” his inflection turning desperate in those last few words. He pulls you in for a kiss, a tinge of your own flavor melting onto your tongue. “How do you want me?” he says softly into your lips.

“Inside, Morales. Please,” you whine into his mouth as you reach for the bulge of his sweatpants, your legs spreading open impossibly more, begging him to end whatever coy teasing game you started. “You already made a mess on me,” you tell him. Bringing your mouth to his ear, you whisper: “Now you need to make another one inside.”

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Frankie groans, throwing his head back to contain himself. When he brings his gaze back down to you, you can see the determination behind his eyes. “That’s what you want, huh? Want me inside you? Want me dripping from you all day, huh, my sweet girl?” He’s yanking his sweats down. He steps closer to you, lips a hair’s width away from each other. “Wanna be filled up with my caramel?” He smirks.

That was the dumbest shit you have ever heard, and your facial expression reveals that, yet it has your pussy clenching on nothing. Of course, Frankie catches it. “Oh, yeah, she does,” he says, running his fingers along your seam before he’s guiding the head of his cock into you.

“Oh, God-” you moan, the girth of him is always a stretch no matter how many times he’s been inside you. “So fucking big- fuck-” your fingers digging into the nape of his neck as he pushes himself to the hilt.

His one arm is wrapped behind you, his hand planted on the counter right where your ass sits to keep you steady as he begins to move—pulling completely out with just the tip at your entrance before slamming back inside, sobs pouring from your lips at the pleasurable plain hitting all the right places. “Fuck- so fucking tight,” he grunts, his vein popping out of his neck with every exertion of his hips. “Feel so fucking good wrapped around me, hermosa, shit-”

“Frankie, p-please. T-touch me, k-kiss me, something, please, baby, I-” you plead, both hands reaching for his face now, grasping for his lips to be on yours.

His mouth slams into yours in a bruising embrace, his mouth immediately latching onto your tongue to lap up the sweetness still laced in your spit. He’s groaning into your mouth, hips moving faster, harder—the wet slick of your pussy getting louder with each thrust, putting you both in a lust-filled haze.

His hand snakes to your front, the pads of his fingers finding your clit, giving you the extra push you need to reach your high. “I feel her fluttering, baby, she’s close,” he mutters against you. “Cum for me, mamita, and I’ll fucking fill you up, baby, come on.”

“Oh, fuck- yes, baby, oh God-!” you’re screaming, eyes clamped shut and head thrown back as you soak his cock, nearly pushing him out of you with the force of your release.

“Mierda- just like that, fuck-” Frankie moans, his chest heaving as he struggles to keep himself from finishing just yet, reveling in the sight of you fall apart around him.

His hips have slowed, giving you a moment of breath, but you’re not having it. Your hips start to move on their own accord, wrapping your legs around Frankie’s waist as you buck your hips into him, whining for him to move, for him to fuck you, for him to-

“Fucking cum inside me, Fish.”

Fish.

That brings him to attention immediately—his hips that were once meeting your every push and pull, now stuttering as his release covers every inch of your walls. You smile wide at the full feeling inside of you even as he begins to soften and slip out of you.

The room is filled with both of your heavy breathing, your gaze stuck on your man as he watches his cum start to leak from your used hole.

“Christ, baby,” he breathes, his fingers collecting the spend dripping out of you only to bring it back to your opening, slowly pushing his fingers inside. Your body, now reaching oversensitivity, jerks at the feeling, a small whimper leaves your mouth. “Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “Just putting it back where it needs to be,” he tells you with a smirk, your tummy fluttering at his statement.

He’s helping slide you off the counter now, hands gripped tightly on your waist knowing your legs must be pure jelly. “Let’s get you cleaned up, mi amor,” he says softly. “You’re all sticky,” he says in a mock exasperation, as if he wasn’t the reason for this fucking mess.

You slap his chest, rolling your eyes as your feet hit the ground. “If I’m still sticky, it’s because you didn’t do your job properly,” you huff.

He meets your gaze once more, licking his bottom lip before he speaks. “Oh, yeah? Telling me I need to go in one more time?” He asks, leaning in with his tongue out to reach for your chest.

“AGH, NO,” you screech, holding your hands up to keep him away. “Last I checked, I was just trying to eat my apples-” you pause at the realization. “Oh my god, wait!!! My apples!!!” You break from Frankie’s hold, turning to see your plate of sweet, crisp apples—now brown and spoiled. “My apples,” you say softly, your lips jutting out into a frown.

Frankie chuckles behind you, grabbing ahold of your waist as he guides you to the bathroom. “I’ll cut you a new one, sweet girl. Let’s just clean my mess up, yeah?”

“Okay,” you submit.

He runs your favorite soft wash cloth under warm water, adding a drop of your favorite soap to get any stubborn sugar stains. “But, Frankie?”

“Sí, cariño?”

“Leave the mess between my legs.”

“Baby-” he says, slightly concerned not wanting you to get a UTI or anything.

“I’ll go pee,” you cut him off. “Just let me sit in the feeling of you for a little bit. Please?”

“Fine,” he says softly. “But we’re showering after I feed you your apple.”

“After you feed me?” You ask, your cheeks going hot at the tenderness of the gesture.

“Yeah, baby,” he says nonchalantly as he kisses your forehead, wiping around your sensitive center. He hangs the cloth to dry before putting it in the hamper. He grabs one of your favorite comfort shirts from your drawer, putting it on you, before he’s guiding you back to the kitchen.

In the midst of your rabid behavior, neither of you realized that caramel bottle toppled over, long enough for nearly a quarter of the bottle to make its way through.

“MY CARAMEL!” You cry, never wanting to let the universe’s best creation go to waste.

Frankie stifles a laugh, not wanting to upset you but finding your love for caramel so endearing. “Baby, it’s okay, we can buy more,” he comforts, rubbing your back as you freeze at the sight.

“I know,” you say. “I just hate to waste such- such yummy things. This is literally liquid fucking gold,” you add, gesturing to the spilt thick liquid blessing your countertop.

“I thought what was inside of you was your liquid gold?” He says with his soft chocolate puppy eyes, gesturing to your cum-filled pussy.

“Oh my god, Frankie, what-” you start, unsure of whether to laugh or be weirded out at what just came out of his mouth. “Please just cut my apple,” you say defeated, slapping your forehead as your body begins to shake with laughter.

As Frankie peels the skin off your fruit—he knows how much it makes your throat itchy—he mutters something that you couldn’t quite pick up.

“What was that?” You ask again.

“You know I’m right,” he says as he clears his throat, eyes focused on his task. “Your liquid gold isn’t the caramel,” he adds for an unnecessary confirmation.

“Francisco-”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

You stay silent for a moment.

“Shut up.”

He grins triumphantly, squeezing a generous amount of your second favorite liquid gold equivalent all over your juicy apple.

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