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notjustjavierpena · 10 months

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The Making of Ellie - Part I

A/N: This DILF!Joel piece has rotted my brain for 24 hours straight. I have had absolutely no break from thinking about this, and it’s never been easier to write something.

Summary: A look into how you and Joel’s relationship is going two years in. Joel’s POV on his never-ending love for you and his extreme baby fever.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel’s POV, domesticated Joel Miller, Sarah makes an appearance!!!, tooth-rotting love and fluff, they’re crazy about each other, talk about birth control and ovulation, pussy eating (joel is a cunning linguist), fingering, bit of praise kink, dirty talk, bit of body worship, breeding kink, daddy kink (if you squint real hard), slow and sensual piv sex, intense orgasms, creampie, God they are in love

Word count: 4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051

Song inspiration(!!!): Too Lost In You by Sugababes

Baby-Making

Joel comes home from work around the same time each day now — and it’s never after dinner time. He has made it his mission to make time for Sarah and you, cut down work since you moved in, because two working adults living in the house means that he can slow things down.

His health has improved, his mood too, his fatigue has practically gone and Sarah has had more time to just be a kid, started playing soccer again, and has even taken up coaching the little league team now that she’s 16. It’s good for him. You are good for him. For both of them.

He loves it. He takes the afternoon post-work ritual very seriously. Always texts if he should pick something up from the grocery store. Sometimes brings you flowers too, remembering that one time you’d said that you didn’t actually mind the cheap cellophane-wrapped bouquets.

It’s interesting to him how natural it feels for him to slip right into domestic bliss with you because he never thought that he would get there again after Sarah’s mother. On top of it, he never considered himself a gentle thing, but after you, it’s like you kiss the calluses of him away. He is nothing but gentle now, even in his roughness.

He throws the keys onto the side table by the front door after arriving home, shrugs off his jacket, and bends down to take off his boots. The sound makes you appear in the doorway. Joel notices that you’ve changed into gray sweatpants and a tank top with a strawberry on it since arriving home, basically removed anything from you that is professional and uncomfortable. Joel loves you like this because he is the only one who gets to enjoy you like this; relaxed and beautiful, hair in a messy bun on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your always-cold feet. He smiles at your radiance, then pads across the floor to kiss you hello.

There’s something in your eyes; a flicker of mischief as you grab his wrist to look at his watch. With a grin that nearly sets his heart into overdrive, you hold his hand up so he can look at the time too.

“It’s five minutes past,” you tut.

“Right, but I got ya something,” he says, reluctantly turning away from you to rummage through his jacket pocket. He fishes out a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and you immediately snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest.

“Gremlin,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him, “No needa hide it. ‘S too sweet for me anyway.”

“I shall save it for later then,” you walk to the kitchen and open the top cabinet that holds the mugs. You stand on your toes to reach into the very back, shirt riding up just a little, and stash the chocolate cup for later consumption.

“Hidden from Sa-rah, the candy thief,” you purposely pronounce her name wrong for dramatic purposes. Then you lower yourself onto the soles of your feet again, not bothering to pull your top down again. Joel watches the slight reveal of the dimples on your back.

“Right,” he chuckles.

Dear Lord, he loves you so much that it is ridiculous. In a way that makes the future look better than it ever has because it’s no longer filled with uncertainty. He knows what’s going to happen; he’ll build a house for the three of you, he’ll marry you in the Texan spring and he’ll give you as many babies as you want. He’d do it all today if he could.

“How was work?” You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your soft hands around the nape of his neck, resting them there. You have rosy cheeks, feel warm against his skin, with love radiating from your fingertips.

“Good, told Tommy to handle the next few clients. Some hotshot guy comin’ into the office tomorrow,” Joel tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. He thinks that you don’t actually care about any of this, but there’s no indication of boredom on your face.

“He building a castle or something?” You ask.

“Somethin’ like that. Guy’s filthy rich but not from his own doin’, looking at blueprints at the end of the week. Should be interesting,” he continues, “Not that you care about that.”

“I do actually like hearing about your job,” you kiss him on the lips, peck them repeatedly until he cannot help himself and lifts you up to hug you tight. His arms rest along your back and his hands on your sides, fingers sprawled out underneath where your bra had been in the morning. You must’ve taken it off too. He loves you comfortable.

“You just love my hands,” he retorts, nose against your cheek, “Don’t deny it. I see right through ya.”

“It’s definitely not completely wrong,” you admit when he sets you down again.

You walk back to the kitchen, too tempted by the knowledge of what is in your kitchen cabinet. You only take half, proclaiming some bullshit that you have to watch out for your blood sugar since one can never know when it’s going to get you.

Joel rolls his eyes, following you, “I can give ya some sugar.”

“Joel Miller!” You pretend to look shocked. He tastes the peanut butter in your mouth, pushes you against the counter.

“Gross,” a teenage girl’s voice says.

“Oh right, Sarah’s home,” you announce sheepishly.

Joel pulls away to look at his daughter, “Hey kiddo. How was school?”

“You don’t care about that,” she smirks, “But if you must know, it was fine. No homework.”

“That don’t sound like Mrs. uhhh…”

“Green, it’s Ms. Green, Dad,” Sarah says dramatically as she moves across the floor to put on shoes. Her tone turns taunting, “Go ahead and make out with your girlfriend. I’m going to soccer practice.”

“Have fun, Sarah! We’ll have dinner ready,” you chime in.

“See ya, honey.”

The door closes behind her. The house grows quiet for a moment, but then the mischief is back in your eyes, “She’s seeing a boy.”

Joel nearly gets whiplash, not sure why his pulse spikes. He trusts his daughter to make good decisions and has taught her how since she was just a baby, “Nah, she ain’t. Just said she’s going to soccer practice.”

“Joel,” you sigh loudly, “It’s Tuesday.”

“So?”

“She has practice on Thursdays.”

“Christ,” he runs a hand over his stubble, tries to keep his composure, and ignores the urge to send her a text.

“But you know what?” You’re back in his personal space, tugging at his arms to make him hold you close again, “Such a fun coincidence. I’m also seeing a boy.”

Joel can feel the tension seeping out of him in an instant.

“Really? ‘Cause I’m seein’ a girl. She’s real pretty,” he wishes that he could show his past self how tooth-rottingly sweet he is being with you because he’d hate it. Though if past-Joel found out who he was treating like this, he’d instantly become a goner just like present-Joel is now.

“‘S her sweet tooth, unhinged behavior that I love the most though,” he continues.

You whine in his arms, lean your head back and it earns you a kiss on your neck, “Don’t be like that. Not when I’m ovulating. I’ll climb you like a tree.”

Oh.

It may seem innocent but Joel knows this is how you play dirty. It suddenly explains a lot. The sweatpants, the rosy cheeks, the way you glow, no bra, the cravings, why Joel wants you so bad.

Joel wouldn’t say that he is controlled by biology, and he hates the men trying to argue their way out of acting like cavemen. But looking at you right now in your stupid strawberry tank top, knowing that you’re horny and ready because your body wants to make him a daddy... Joel’s head swims.

Something shifts in the air. You can see it on him, but Joel assumes that you wait for him to act on whatever is bubbling up in his chest and below his belt.

And act, he does. He distracts you with deep, long kisses until he can snatch you up from the ground and carry you upstairs. You squeak out a giggle but don’t fight back, enjoying the freedom of being alone with him.

“That’s why you’re so fucking sexy,” Joel says after placing you on your shared bed. He is already shedding himself of his shirt, undressing hurriedly to get close to your skin with his own as quickly as possible.

You crawl back on the bed, untying the strings of your sweatpants and yanking them down your legs. You match his urgency, but still decide to tease him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut your mouth,” he yanks the rest of your pants off as soon as he is naked in front of you. He throws them in the pile of his own clothes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, dirty girl.”

You’re just about to take your top off before Joel stops you with a hand curled around the hem. He knows you’re sensitive at this point in your cycle, but it’s not why he wants to keep it on, “I love how cute you are in this shirt. Keep it on like this.”

He crawls properly onto the bed to demonstrate and tugs the shirt up over your tits so he can still see the stupid animated fruit on the front. Afterward, he tugs your panties down your legs and off your feet. He will swear to a higher power that he can even smell it on you, sweet like strawberries and honey between your legs and it makes him feel like an animal.

He has had baby fever for a while now, even told you his plans on giving you a whole bunch of babies and you’ve merely giggled at him, especially when he told you that twins don’t run in his family, but he is sure that nature will give him a whole litter with you.

“Want me to eat you out?” He asks to which you whimper and nod. He doesn’t give you what you want right then and there, instead climbs up to cradle your head in his hands and gives you a long, slow kiss. He sucks on your tongue, hums into your mouth, and gets you worked up and wet before he’ll treat you right.

“Tell me,” he says when he breaks the kiss, nosing along the bunched-up fabric of his new favorite top of yours. He sucks at the skin between your breasts, places open-mouthed kisses along the swell of the left whilst cupping the right.

“I want you to eat my pussy,” you moan softly, running a hand over his hair as he licks a nipple. You slide your fingers into it, but you don’t tug at it unless you feel like you need to hold onto it for dear life.

“God, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls before going further down your body, his spit leaving a shine where his mouth has been, “Can’t believe I own these tits.”

He goes further down, lets out a satisfied noise when he can see between your legs, “—and this pussy.”

“Yes, it’s yours, fuck, baby,” you sound delirious already, happy and eager to be touched, on the verge of a giggle even, “Joel, need your mou—“

You gasp loudly into the quiet bedroom. Joel has covered you with his mouth, eyes almost rolling back into his skull at the taste of your ripe cunt. He is too lost in you, a complete idiot with how head over heels he is for you, and he shows it by devouring you like he is starved.

“Baby!” You cry out, sensitive, “Fuuuck— just like that!”

He watches your thighs twitch in his peripheral, holds you down by placing a strong hand just below your belly button, and uses his thumb on said hand to pull the hood of your clit back. He sucks the little now-hard nub into his mouth, sending you into a state where he is unsure if you can even sense the sheets underneath you. If you had superpowers, he surely would’ve made you lift off the bed as if you were possessed.

He bobs his head a little, probably looking obscene as he hums against your clit and wiggles his head too. He looks up at you through his lashes, sees the red flush on your chest, and knows that you are close. Christ, he hasn’t been this into someone before.

“I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ you say like always, announcing your departure from reality. He keeps going, feeling your stomach jump in a stuttering manner underneath his palm with how uneven your breathing has become.

“Fuck, I’m coming!” You sob with a yank of Joel’s hair and suddenly your thighs are shaking violently without your control. Joel can feel you coming before you announce it, your cunt clenching rapidly against his lips and your clit pulsing in his mouth as he sucks your folds into his mouth. You taste so good as a gush on slick smears his lips and chin even more. He laps it up.

You push him away when he gets too much, and he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh. You finally release the giggle that you’ve been suppressing, drunk on dopamine and Joel falls in love with you a bit more.

“You’re fucking incredible,” you say. The hand in his hair slides down so you can affectionately run your knuckles over his cheek. He responds by gently rubbing your thighs, soothing you on top of putting such strain on your heart and your breath. You hum, “I love you so much.”

Without warning, he smacks your thigh and you sit up straight. He grins, “Love ya too, sweetheart. Think you can give me one more before I fuck ya?”

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” You ask genuinely as you lower onto your back again.

“Wanna fuck a baby into you,” he replies, voice an octave lower than normal. He senses your shiver without having to look at your face, “Please. Wanna get her red and puffy so it fucking sticks.”

You let out an involuntary moan at the idea. You want this as much as him, he hopes, and he slides two fingers into your neglected pussy whilst he waits for the green light to fill you up. He crooks them upwards, fingers the spongy spot that only seems to have been discovered by him, “Lemme in. Lemme come in you.”

You’ve been off the pill for a while with the reasoning that it wasn’t doing any good for your body. Joel had stocked up on condoms since then, actually filled the top drawer of his nightstand to the brim because honey, we’re young and healthy, red-blooded Americans. But it had planted the idea in his mind that he could potentially knock you up, and suddenly the stash of condoms was being used rapidly.

“Okay,” you say with a half-moan, “Fuck, okay.”

Joel immediately sits up on his knees, still fucking you open on his hand. You squirm underneath his touch, trying to get a hold of your breathing this time, holding eye contact with him as he drags another orgasm from you.

It is much less hurried and a lot more intense, muscles clamping down on his digits rhythmically as you bite your lip and close your eyes with a soft gasp. He can’t decide if he finds this more sexy.

“Did you mean it?” He asks as he trails kisses up your belly. He kneels between your legs and places an elbow on either side of your chest so he can hold both your breasts in his hands. He squeezes them together, sucks on a nipple until you sigh deeply, and then watches them bounce back into place.

“Yes,” you say and your voice doesn’t sound unsure at all, “Fuck yes, I want your babies. Wanted them since I saw you. Want you to make me a mommy.”

“The prettiest momma out there,” he says, euphoria evident on his face. He slides his arms underneath you, rests his head on your breasts, and hugs you close to his chest, “Wanna fuck ya.”

“Please,” you say softly, spreading your legs open for him but he has other plans. He releases you from his arms to sit up again, spreading his knees a little. His hands wrap around your ankles to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, your feet behind his ears. He leans over you afterward and bends your flexible legs backward until the front of his thighs are against the back of yours. He can go deep like this, fill you up with his come how he has wanted to for months.

He takes hold of his cock, eases it inside of your spent and warm cunt inch by inch. You feel incredible around his dick without a piece of rubber separating the two of you. He can feel the head of his dick nudge at your cervix, moaning quietly as he is engulfed by your wet, pulsating heat.

“How are you still so fucking tight?” He groans, resting his forehead against your calf as he gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch. He knows he is big, gets a thrill out of how well you take him each time as if you were made specifically for him. There had been one time where he’d called you a trooper, and you had laughed so hard with his dick inside you that it had made him come.

“You feel so big like this,” you say as you look down between the two of you, already sounding out of breath. Joel kisses your calf repeatedly and softly, trying to soothe your overwhelmed body.

“Goddamn. You’re so sexy,” he praises, placing both hands on the sides of your head so he is hovering above you. He finds your hazy eyes, “Look at you.”

He gives an experimental roll of his hips that makes you whimper, both hands reaching for the backs of his knees. You hold onto him, staring up into his eyes with that siren-like look in them, and then you moan softly.

Joel starts fucking you desperately at that. He doesn’t hurry though, keeps his hips’ movements slow and sensual to have you moaning and gasping ever so slightly at the intensity. He knows he could just give in and fuck you rough and fast, but the heavy-lidded gaze that you are giving him with your mouth hanging open is too good to spoil.

“Joel,” you cry but it’s barely audible compared to what he sometimes drags from you. He can feel your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his thighs, creating half-moon shapes in the flesh. He switches to a rocking motion, and it sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You moan with your bottom lip between your teeth, “Mhm—“

“I know, baby, let it out,” he can see your pulse jumping wildly underneath the sensitive skin of your neck, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool at the base of his spine. He needs to be closer to you.

“Lift your legs down to the sides,” he tells you gently, thrusts coming to a halt and him realizing that you’ve heard absolutely nothing. He repeats himself, waits for you to follow his instructions, and then hooks his arms underneath your knees.

Joel gets closer to you by resting his weight on his elbows, his own body on top of your slightly contorted one. You reach for him, grabby hands in the air until he allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. You cradle his face, make him feel safe in your arms.

“I love you, baby,” he breathes deeply. The new position gives him an opportunity to reach deeper inside of you, and it’s accompanied by each upward snap of his pelvis causing his cockhead to push into your g-spot. It makes it difficult for you to continue kissing him, eventually simply breathing into his mouth as he has you speared on his dick. Never once do you let go of his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, and tip of your nose against his.

“I love you,” you whisper, unable to catch your breath. Joel can feel your walls flutter around his dick, threatening to pull his own climax from him too soon. You pant, eyes burning, “You— baby, shit… you’re gonna make me come.”

“Yeah?” He speeds up a little, carding a hand through your hair and gently tugging on the bun. He coaxes you, “Gonna milk my cock into you? Make me a daddy?”

“Yeah,” you whimper wantonly, tightening your legs into his sides as you try moving with him, “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you a daddy! Fuckfuckfuck. Ah— I’m, I—“

Joel doesn’t know if he’s ever made you come like this; without all the muscle and rough touches, without the fast-paced snaps of his hips and the foul taunting from his mouth of how dirty you are. But come you do, with your brows furrowed, gaze on his and a controlled breathing that suddenly becomes erratic and uneven after you let out a high-pitched cry.

“That’s it,” he admires you, “So good f’me.”

You clamp down on his cock so hard that he sees stars, fucks you through each convulsion of your cunt. His mouth drips with filth as he works himself toward his own pleasure, “You make me so fucking horny, baby. Wanna knock— ngh, wanna knock this pretty pussy up all the time. Give ya a whole fuckin’ litter.”

He tips over the edge not long after, heart pounding in his chest and the sensation in his balls tightening. He releases with a groan, settles deep inside of you to make sure he doesn’t waste a single drop. His orgasm pulses through his cock, swirls in his belly, and warms the small of his back.

“Fuuuck,” he pants. He carefully removes his arms from underneath your legs before he collapses, allowing you to stretch out underneath him. You look completely fucked out, gasping feebly as he teasingly gives you another thrust before pulling out.

You wrap your arms around him as he falls onto you, nose against the shell of his ear. He can barely lift his head when you speak, humming into your neck that vibrates as you talk, “You think other people have sex this good?”

“Nah, ‘s why everyone is so fuckin’ miserable, why they gotta build mansions with their parents’ money,” he murmurs.

“Stop thinking about the hotshot client in bed,” you tease as you cradle his head in your arms, lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. It seems you cannot get close enough, “You should only think about sticky, sweaty me.”

Joel finds that he doesn’t care about sticky, sweaty skin and you feeling like a furnace after three orgasms. He lays with you like this for a while, sure that you’ve drifted off to sleep at one point, until you push at his shoulder, voice back to your normal pitch as the post-orgasmic bliss has faded slowly, “Gotta pee.”

“Sure,” he rolls off of you. The sight of your waddle to the bathroom makes him smile, eyes following the way the fleshiest part of your ass and thighs jiggle with each step.

When you’ve closed the door behind you, Joel finds the strength to rid the bed of the dirty sheets and start dressing again. He’ll have a shower before bed, he decides, ignoring the sensitivity of sliding on boxers and jeans again.

Hurriedly, he bounces down the stairs to the kitchen. He gets the rest of your peanut butter cup, places it on the nightstand with your clothes right beside it.

He checks the time. There’s no point in trying to cook something up for dinner if Sarah is home from ‘practice’ soon, so he goes down into the kitchen to order pizza, heart thrumming in his chest as he hears you shout a thank you from upstairs at the discovery of the other half of your favorite snack. He is happy. So so happy.

Especially as he writes ‘pregnancy test’ into his Notes app shopping list.

@elissaaa @queerponcho @casa-boiardi @gracieispunk @hiddenbabynyc @hopelessromantic727 @livingdeadmaria @its-nebuleuse @milly-louise @cool-iguana @pawnshopbluess222 @joeldjarin @queenbrownie18 @scarletsloveletter @ladyburberry @swiftsgirlfriend @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sunnywithachanceofjavi @strang3lov3 @hellishjoel @toxicanonymity

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boldlyvoid · 2 years

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Employee of the Month

eddie munson x reader

Summary: To make some extra cash before Christmas, Y/N takes a job stocking the grocery store shelves at midnight, unbeknownst to her that her high school crush also works there

Warnings: mutual pining, partial slow burn, parental death, mentions of Eddie's murder charges (now dropped), being ostracized by the town, teasing, flirting, sick Eddie, hurt/comfort, falling in love, first kiss, first times, virgin Eddie, virgin reader, making out, grinding, dry humping, cumming in pants. they're really horny touch starved adults

word count: 9k

In a last-ditch effort to make some more money this Christmas, she takes a job at the local grocery store to stock the shelves at midnight. It’s not too bad, there are only 16 shelves and about 30 feet of freezer to restock, she gets to bring a walkman and headphones and wear whatever she wants. As long as the shelves look nice come morning, the boss didn’t really care.

From the first night she worked there she knew it was going to be a good fit, mainly because the other stock person she’s been partnered with is the same guy she had a massive crush on in high school. Eddie Munson had one hell of a year while she was trying to graduate, he was getting accused of murdering her classmates. He disappeared mostly after that, the school gave him a pass and his diploma so they didn’t have to see him again, the town pretended they didn’t try and murder him in revenge for an entire week and she didn’t see him again for a while.

“Hey,” she waves at him with her lips pressed together in a tight smile, “I’m—

“Y/N,” he points at her name tag with a matching smile. “I take it you’re my new buddy?”

She nods, “yeah… um, what are we doing tonight?”

“The snacks and chips aisle, the milk fridge and the cheeses,” he recites the list as he pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to her.

While she is just in jeans and a sweater, nothing too fancy, he’s in a navy blue jumpsuit with his name embroidered on the left breast, and just under it, the grocery store logo. He was in uniform… “why don’t I have to wear one of those?”

“Oh, I got this for being the employee of the month,” he shrugs it off, not meaning to brag in the slightest. “You like it?”

“Yeah,” she smiles like a fool, nodding quickly and looking at the list he handed her to avoid his eye contact.

She liked him so much in high school, and he was still so cute, it was all coming back to her. He’s much more laid back and reserved now, it has been over a year since she’s seen him in person, too. It made her wonder if he was still that same loud, opinionated nerd that she admired from a distance.

He’s super nice about teaching her the right way to restock everything, bringing the old stuff to the front and the new things get pushed to the back of each shelf. They split up the aisles and met in the middle, trying to beat each other each time. He sang along to the radio playing over the speakers, and he danced when he thought she wasn’t looking… he was just as cute as he was in high school.

They end up making a good team, they finish their list and pick up a few extra chores. They change a lightbulb in the guest bathroom, take inventory of the magazines and run disinfectant over every surface they could until their shift ends. It feels like it takes forever, they’re awkward when talking to each other but it’s kinda easy to hang out with him. This was going to be a good job for her.

“You need a ride home?” He asks in the staff room after work, both of them putting on their coats and scarves. The November chill in Hawkins was not nice.

She shakes her head and starts to point, “no, I just live—

“You can’t walk home in the middle of the night,” he cuts her off. “There’s too many creeps and animals out there. I don’t mind where it is?”

“Okay,” she gives in easily.

She gives him her address as they walk out to his van, he opens the door for her and lets her hop in before closing it for her too. He asks her about how long she’s lived there, trying his best to make conversation but it hurts.

“Uh, we’ve always lived in Hawkins, my house is still a mess from the earthquake but the insurance is fixing it soon,” she assures, nervous for him to see the state of the place when he pulls up. “If my dad was still here he’d probably have it done by now, but it’s just me and my mom.”

“God, I’m sorry,” he felt so bad for asking. “That was the worst fucking week ever.”

“yeah… it sucked for everyone,” she doesn’t even know how to touch upon what he went through. “Glad it’s over.”

“More than you know,” he sighs, turning onto her road finally.

He doesn’t want to come in for coffee or anything, he gives her a smile and a wave and watches to make sure she gets inside her house safely before driving away.

She thinks about him well into the morning when she should be sleeping. It’s easy to get sucked into an imaginary life where he asks her out after a shift and they hang out and fall in love and she finally gets to kiss that smile off his beautiful face… it’s not easy to make it come true. She would go to her grave with the fact she thinks he’s handsome and nice and funny and cute. She’s not big on sharing feelings, having no one to ever really share them with, in the first place.

—

She doesn’t see him unless she’s working, which was only 3 nights a week, Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

She uses those 3 nights wisely. She wears something nice but not too suspicious, and she always smells nice and does the best she can with her hair and makeup… she wants him to think she’s pretty. She wants to catch him staring at her instead of how many times he caught her looking at him as a teenager.

He tells her that she looks nice every day in many different ways.

“Did you come straight from the ball, princess?”

“You know this is a grocery store, not a fashion show, right?”

And her personal favourite… “It's too cold out there for you to come in looking so hot.” With a wink. A fucking wink. It almost made her pass out.

He does it just to bug her, he likes to make her squirm and lose every thought in her head. He laughs when she stutters through a response and he always pats her shoulder gently and says, “I just mean you look nice today.”

She has a hard time reaching the top shelves sometimes and he has no problem coming over and standing real close to her. “Here, I got that,” he says in such a low voice it felt like a whisper. He reaches up and takes everything down for her, “do you want me to put them up for you too?”

“Sure,” she doesn’t mind, she works on the second highest shelf instead, still close to him, she watches him reach and extend his long arms and puff out his chest and ugh he’s so hot it makes her stare like an idiot.

“You’re drooling,” he teases her.

She wipes her face quickly, “what? No, shut up.”

He just giggles and finishes shoving the new stock toward the back of the shelf. She bumps shoulders with him right before he heads back to his stack of things, he had boxes of croutons to unpack. She was now moving on to salad dressings and other condiments.

She doesn’t dare start up any conversations, overthinking everything that comes into her head too much. She didn’t feel like he’d find anything she had to say interesting.

They’re in the soup aisle when he finally speaks again. “Can I ask you something?”

She’s a bit shocked cause he’s been silent for so long, but she nods.

“When you dream is there ever a specific topic you dream about the most?”

“Tornados,” she can answer without batting an eye. “I had one the other night actually… I don’t know why but there’s always a tornado.”

“That is an interesting one… did you just watch a lot of the wizard of oz growing up?” He teases.

She can’t help but smile, “no, I’ve actually never watched it.”

“You get more interesting every time you talk,” he means it as a compliment.

“Yeah? Well, why’d you even ask about dreams? Do you have a good one?” She turns the conversation back to him, taking a handful of soups and shoving them into the shelf.

“I keep having dreams in high school where I’m failing again and none of the teachers will pass me,” he explains. “And I had one last night cause I guess seeing you again so much is reminding me of being back in school.”

“Wait,” she turns to him full of shock and awe, “you remember me?”

“Of course,” he doesn't see it as a big deal. “Your lunch table was beside ours, I saw you every day?”

He saw me looking at him often…

She wants to turn inside out with embarrassment. “Oh, I uh, I didn’t think you paid attention to that.”

“How could I not? You always reacted the best when I did something stupid,” he reminisces, stepping in closer to her. “And I remember your laugh was cute.”

She’s too nervous to even giggle awkwardly, he’s in her personal space and he smells good and his eyes are so inviting, “thanks…” all the air in her chest leaves as she melts in front of him.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do all that shit just for your attention,” he admits, licking his lips as he stares at hers.

It’s like time stops, her brain can’t process all the information so she just blinks a few times and stares back at him with a furrowed brow. “Really?”

He nods with a laugh, pulling away and returning to the stack of boxes they had to put away. “Yeah, I uh, I should probably feel a little stupid telling you this now after all this time, but uh, you bring the stupid out of me… I kinda had a huge crush on you back then.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” he teases. “You act like thats a total surprise? You’re so pretty and you were never mean to me, it was bound to happen.”

She’s completely dumbfounded, “oh… that’s— I’m nice to everyone? At least I try to be.”

But then she realizes what he really said, he used to have a crush on her, but that’s long gone. He wouldn’t tell her if he still had one, would he? Guys weren’t that open about feelings, it was always a game with them… right?

“Sorry,” he realizes he fucked up by telling her. “I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just weird for me. I’ve never been told straight up that someone had a crush on me,” she’s really taken aback. “Thanks… really.”

“Anytime,” he blushes slightly, dropping it there.

He drives her home again like he does every night that she works cause he really can’t stand the idea of her walking home past midnight as the temperature drops. He has tried to offer to pick her up beforehand, but she doesn’t want to put him out, and her mom doesn’t mind dropping her off every night… but he asks again, anyway.

Parked outside of her house, he turns to her. “Can I please come pick you up before your next shift?” He all but begs.

“I guess,” she gives in, “why?”

He shrugs, “I like spending time with you.”

“Then why don’t you ever want to come in for a coffee?” She combats, really wanting him to come in. “I also have tea and hot chocolate…”

“Okay,” he gives in right back. “I’ll come in with you, tonight.”

“Really?” She lights right up and throws off her seatbelt, reaching for the door.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He panics, rushing out first and coming around to her side to open it up for her, “you’re gonna make me look bad, walking you to the front door and not getting the door for you is a crime.”

“If you say so,” she laughs at him as she hops out beside him.

He slams her door closed and with a hand on her back, he leads her toward the front door. “You sure you’re mom's okay with me being in her house?”

“Yeah, why not?” She honestly forgets.

“Well, I’m me?” He awkwardly laughs, feeling incredibly nervous about his reputation. “It’s honestly why I’ve not said yes yet, I don’t know who hates me still…”

“Oh god, no, she doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t hate anyone,” she puts up both hands in a sort of surrender that made him smile. She meant it. “She’s also asleep so you won’t have to talk to her at all.”

“Okay,” he assures her, rubbing his hand over her shoulder with a smile.

Every time he looks at her like that she wants to melt right into him, to swim around in the chocolate pools of his eyes for hours on end. He’s so beautiful, she’s never going to get over it.

He leans in closer, looking at her through his lashes, “Are we going inside soon, it’s cold out here?”

“Sure, yeah,” she remembers what they were doing, digging her keys out of her pocket. She unlocks the door and pushes it open, slipping in first and letting him follow.

Inside he kicks off his shoes and hangs up his jacket beside hers before following her all the way into the kitchen. He’s as quiet as a mouse, respecting that her mom is asleep somewhere in the house.

“So what’ll it be?” She asks, opening up the fridge to take a look while he sits down at the kitchen counter.

“Oh, I’m good, I just wanted to come in with you,” he admits but by the look on her face, she doesn’t believe him. “Seriously, I’m just going to go home and sleep anyway, it’s fine.”

“You’ve gotta have something… come on?” She stares him down, “Pepsi? Ginger ale? Water? What about a snack?”

“I’m fine,” he means it. “What do you normally have when you come home?”

“It’s always different, sometimes my mom makes something for us for dinner and other nights I just have like a pop tart,” she shares, opening the cupboard and taking out a box.

“I could actually go for a pop tart,” he admits, eyes up the box in her hands.

She laughs and opens up one of the silver, crinkly packets and hands him one. He takes a big bite and dramatically throws his head back with a groan, “fuck, I forgot how good these are.”

“And you would’ve kept forgetting if you didn’t come in with me, so I guess you have to from now on,” she teases, feeling a lot more confident with him suddenly… she felt like things could be fun between them. If he wasn’t going to fall in love with her, she might as well try for being his best friend.

“You’re too cute to say no to,” he can’t help but smile at her.

“Again, you’re the only one to think so,” she rolls her eyes, not believing him. He was just a flirt, it wasn’t the truth… right?

“More for me, then,” he shrugs, taking another bite from his pop tart and dropping it there.

—

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?” Her mom asks from the kitchen.

“I’m fine,” she calls back, staring out the front window, watching the street for Eddie’s van. “My co-worker offered to pick me up.”

“Oh, which one?”

“Um, Eddie…” she turns around slowly to see her mom standing in the doorway now. “Eddie Munson.”

“Oh,” she is a little shocked to hear that name after so long. “I didn’t know he was still in Hawkins?”

“He works nights so no one has to see him,” she explains, “cause people are mean… he was really scared to come in last night after work cause he didn’t want to upset you by coming into your house.”

“Poor boy,” she feels so bad, never wanting her home to strike fear in someone. “I knew you wouldn’t have a crush on a monster, and the police cleared him, this town owes him an apology too.”

“I know,” she agrees but she doubts it’ll ever happen.

Sometime during their chat, Eddie pulled up outside and made his way to her front door where he laid a few knocks. She opens the door with a huge smile, “hi, sorry you didn’t have to come all the way to the door.”

“I wanted to,” he assures her, seeing her mom peeking over her shoulder. “Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Hello,” she gives him a little wave. “Have fun at work you two, I’ll see you, tomorrow sweetheart.”

“Bye mom,” she slips outside with Eddie, knowing her mom was going to watch them walk back to his van.

He extends his hand and holds hers as they walk down the few steps of her porch, he drops her hand only to place it on her back as he leads her toward the passenger door. He opens for her, like always. He runs around the van, sends a wave to her mom at the door and then hops inside, “ready?”

“Ready,” she can’t bite back her smile anymore, she was so giddy about holding his hand that it made her feel like a little girl again.

He pauses for a moment and looks her up and down, “did you get all dolled up 'cause I’m driving you?”

She tilts her head to the side, annoyed cause he always asks, “I always look like this.”

“Beautiful, you mean?”

She walked right into that one.

“Fine, I’ll let you have it this time,” she gives in.

“Good,” he throws the van in drive and heads out of her little neighbourhood towards town.

He’s quiet for a bit, she looks around at the street lights and the businesses still open, as well as all the houses with their Christmas lights up already. “I miss it was still kinda sunny out at 8pm,” she sighs, staring out the window at the full moon rising over Hawkins.

“I like the dark,” he shares. “Less people are out.”

“Why don’t you move? Not that I want you to leave, but wouldn’t it be more freeing to have no one know who you are? You deserve a real life,” she lets her feelings fall right out. “You’re not a bad person, you never have been.”

“Thanks,” he reaches out his hand and rests it on her thigh. “But it’s ‘cause everyone I love is here, I can’t leave.”

“Right, so are you still in your band then?”

He lets out a very surprised chuckle, “yeah, I still have my band, we still play Tuesday nights, it's the only night I don’t work.”

She wouldn’t know that cause she didn’t work that night either, “I’ll have to come see you play sometime, I don’t have any classes that night.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were in school still?”

“Community college,” she doesn’t feel so ashamed telling him. “Most my friends went off to real schools but it’s the only place I could go to for free, so.”

“Hey, at least you got in,” he celebrates the bare minimum. “I couldn’t even dream of it with my GPA. I was thinking I’d wait a few years and get some kind of degree when I’m considered a mature student, and when people forget about me.”

She wants to tell him that she’ll never forget about him, she never did. She thought about him all the time. She couldn’t hear Metallica on the radio without thinking about him. Every jean jacket patch made her think about him. She took a double take when she saw a man with long hair hoping it was him. She thought about him before she went to bed, in her dreams and as soon as her eyes opened in the morning.

She was completely in love with him.

—

She was only going to work for the holidays, and now that Christmas was only a few days away, she was worried that she only has a few more weeks left with Eddie. And for some reason that makes her want to get him a Christmas present, almost as a way to buy a place in his heart so he doesn’t forget about her when she’s not his buddy anymore.

And then he doesn’t show up for work… she’s been waiting to see him all week, and he’s a no-show.

So she asks her shift manager who says Eddie called out earlier in the day really, really sick. It makes her heart hurt knowing he wasn’t feeling good.

So she pushes through her shift. It’s weird without him, but she does it. She walks home for the first time and it’s a lot colder than she expected. The wind on her face and the snow in her hair, melt as the heat from her body escapes from her head. She gets home finally and she’s shivering, she wants to wrap herself up in a blanket and sleep for days, instead goes right to the kitchen. She searches through her cupboards for a couple cans of chicken noodle soup and some crackers, she grabs a few cans of ginger ale and takes her mom's keys. There’s no way she’s going back out there

She drives right into the trailer park and follows the road slowly, scanning the driveways for eddies van until she finally finds it. She parks outside the blue and white trailer and carefully heads towards his door, not wanting to slip with a handful of cans.

She knocks carefully, the lights are all still on so it’s not like she’s waking him up… and then another man she doesn’t know answers. “Yes?”

“Hi, I’m so sorry but is this Eddie’s trailer?” She panics.

“It is.”

“I brought him some soup, I heard he was sick and that’s why he couldn’t make it to work tonight…”

“Oh, that’s sweet, come on in out of the cold,” he ushers her right inside the tiny trailer. “Sorry for the mess, we’ve both been battling this random cold, I got it at the plant and he finally got it from me yesterday.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” she sympathizes as she lays everything down on his kitchen counter. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Wayne, Eddies uncle,” he introduces himself. “He’s talked a lot about you, I was wondering when I’d get to meet ya.”

“Oh, really?” She can’t believe it.

“yeah… you know, I can put that soup on, you can go down the hall there and see him, he’s just reading in bed, I think?” He points.

“Oh, okay sure,” she doesn’t mind, she was honestly expecting Eddie to live alone and have an empty kitchen, not an uncle who loved him dearly there to take care of him.

She shrugs off her coat and takes off her boots first and then she heads down the hallways carefully, she knocks on his closed door, waiting for the all-clear to enter… and his “yeah?” Comes out so sad and sickly that it makes her heart hurt.

She pushes the door open carefully, “hey… I heard you were sick?”

“Y/N?” He sits right up, fixing his hair and wiping his nose. “I didn’t think you knew where I lived?”

“I just looked for the van, I think everyone knows you live in the trailer park,” she realizes how weird that sounds.

“True, still I can’t believe you’re here?”

She comes in and takes a seat on the edge of his bed, putting out her hand to hold the back of it to his forehead, “you’re all fevered, oh no… have you taken anything?”

He nods, “yeah, some Buckleys…”

“I brought you some soup, Wayne’s heating it up for you,” she explains with a soft smile. “He’s sweet.”

“Where’d you think I got my charm from?” He teases, still well enough to try and make her smile.

She brushes his hair off his face gently, “I’m glad you have him to take care of you.”

“I’d much prefer you as my nurse… would you give me a sponge bath?”

“No,” she holds back her laugh and just shakes her head with a smile. “But nice try.”

“Damn,” he sighs, tossing his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes. Turning on the dramatics, he looks at her with the sweetest puppy dog eyes, “will you at least keep me company while I have my soup?”

“Of course,” she planned to stay as long as he needed her. “I just have to bring my mom's car back before 8am cause she needs to go to work.”

“I promise I won’t keep you long,” he reaches out for her hand, holding them with both of his own. “I really appreciate you coming to check on me… and might I say you look very cute today, I’m glad I didn’t miss this one.”

She melts at his words, “you must not be too sick if you’re still trying to flirt with me.”

“I’m going to remind you that you’re beautiful until the day I die,” he’s very stern about that.

“Yeah, like you’ll know me that long,” she plays it off.

He gives her hands a little squeeze, “I like to think I will… I might just be high on cough syrup, but I like to think I’ll find you in every life I lead, you’re so special to me, Y/N.”

“You’re definitely high,” she teases, leaning in forward to kiss his forehead as she stands up. “I’m going to check on your soup… you sober up by the time I get back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he agrees but doesn’t drop her hands, he holds on as long as he can and then she slips away from him.

Wayne’s just putting the soup in a bowl as she walks back into the kitchen, she grabs a sleeve of soup crackers and a ginger ale, it's plated and then Wayne turns to her.

“You know he’s not kidding, right?”

“What?”

“He wouldn’t lie,” Wayne gives her those honest Munson eyes that she loves so much in his nephew. “And clearly you feel the same if you’ve come all the way out here at half midnight to make him soup.”

She feels the colour leave her face as she’s caught red-handed, she was doing this because she loved him so dearly she couldn’t stand spending a shift without seeing him. She wanted to always take care of him. She loved him. It was as simple as that. She just loves him.

“Life’s too short to not tell each other,” he adds some last words of wisdom and hands her the tray of her lover's dinner.

She’s extra quiet when she brings him his dinner, and when she sits on the end of his bed to accompany him while he eats. He has a book resting face down, cracked open to keep its page, resting beside him. She reaches for it, checking the cover, it’s the fellowship of the ring.

“I’ve never read The Lord of the Rings, is it good?”

“It’s the best book series there is,” he assures her while taking another spoonful of soup.

She keeps her thumb where Eddie was reading but skips back to the first few pages, reading it over quietly to see if she’d like it at all… it’s cute. “You can read it from the beginning if you want?”

“Out loud?” She wonders if he’d want to hear that too.

“As if you could get any better,” he manages to smile no matter how sick he feels. “Please, I’d really love that.”

“Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.”

He basks in the way her voice sounds alongside his favourite book, words he’s read so many times and heard in his own voice now being retold in hers. He listens ever so intently, enjoying it more than she’d ever know as she watches the page, trying her hardest not to stutter and to pronounce all the words right so he didn’t laugh at her… but even when she gets stuck he just affectionately corrects her and admires her as she continues.

She makes it through the prologue and the facts about hobbits and pipeweed and the shire by the time he’s done eating. He has enough energy to take his dishes out to the kitchen himself and returns with a smile. She made her way up to the pillows beside him and slipped under the covers so he could get in beside her, “come on, I’m reading you a chapter or two and then I’ve gotta go home.”

“Right,” he gets into the bed beside her and snuggles right up to her, he wraps himself around her arm with his cheek on her shoulder so he can watch the page as she reads on through chapter one.

He falls asleep like that, with a warm belly full of soup and a heart full of love, it pains her to get up and possibly disrupt him.

She does get up, slowly but surely, replacing herself with a pillow that he snuggles up to instead. She kisses him on the forehead, he’s not as fevered as before, hopefully he felt better tomorrow. She takes a look around for a scrap piece of paper, finding one on his dresser with a sharpie marker. She leaves her phone number and a little note.

Call me tomorrow, I want to know if you’re feeling better. Hopefully we can finish this sometime.

xx Y/N

She slips it into the book and leaves it on his night table and then she’s off. She says goodbye to Wayne who’s still awake because if he sleeps he’ll throw off his schedule when he goes back to work. He also did night shifts, so he wouldn’t be there next time she comes over after work… that’s good to know.

—

He takes the whole weekend off and it sucks, but she understands he needs the time to get better. He calls her to let her know that decision around 2pm on Saturday and they stay on the phone all the way up until she has to get ready for work.

Waynes gone back to work, leaving him completely alone in the trailer after they hang up the phone… and all he can think about is how she’s going to have to walk home again. It rattles around his brain most of the night, he paces the trailer, feeling like shit but his love for her is eating him alive and it hurts more than his congested nose. At 11:52 he finally says fuck it.

In his pyjamas and all, he throws on a coat and slips his feet into his boots, he snags his keys off the wall and he’s gone. He books it out of the trailer park, watching the clock on his dash to ensure midnight doesn’t sneak up on him. The streets are empty, so he doesn’t worry about racing through the yellow lights on his way to the store.

He pulls up with just a few minutes to spare, his heart racing, he just parks at the curb by the employee's only back door and he waits for her. He reaches over to the passenger door to roll down the window, wanting her to be able to see him… as if she wouldn’t notice that it’s his van. She knew his van.

She knew him.

And she liked him.

The heavy door slowly opens and he sees her, laughing with their co-worker as she buttons up the last few buttons on her jacket. She’s bundled up in a scarf and she has a hat on today, she planned to be warmer on tonight's walk home.

“Eddie?” She lights right up. “What are you doing here.”

“I may be on my death bed but I’m not letting you walk home in the dark, princess,” he assures her, pushing the door open so she can get in.

She waves goodbye to their co-worker, finishing their conversation before she hops in the van and closes the door. She rolls the window back up. “Burr, you’re you’re going to get sicker with this open.”

“I hope you don’t find it weird that I’m here?” He worries, “seriously, after everything that happened here, walking home alone at midnight isn’t smart… it killed me that you walked home yesterday and then still came to see me.”

“I know, it’s okay,” she reaches out to hold his gently in hers. “You can pick me up and drive me home all the time if it makes you feel better?”

“You’ve gotta want to spend time with me too,” he places his other hand on top of hers. “Don’t feel like you have to be nice to me, little miss I’m nice to everyone.”

“I am,” she feels offended. “I know you’re not stupid, you’ve gotta see I love spending time with you.”

“I like to hear you say it, sue me,” he smiles, his eyes flicking back and forth between her eyes and her lips. He’s so close to her already that he could kiss her.

But then he’d get her sick.

So he pulls back a bit and pats her hand as her grip loosens. “Let’s get you home.”

“Yeah,” she settles into her seat and puts on her seatbelt, he waits for the click and then he’s off, taking the familiar route back to her place.

He asks her about her day, what they did, and how they’re doing without him. She missed him, he can tell by the way she complains about being partnered with someone new. “They didn’t do anything the way you do, it felt so wrong.”

She thinks I do things the right way…

His heart soars the whole ride and then it ends too soon. He parks at the curb with a sigh, “I’m going to be up for a bit if you want to call me?”

“You don’t want to come in?”

He shakes his head, “I can’t get my germs all over your place.”

“Right, no I get it,” she understands, but she lingers. He stares at him for a sec, “walk me to my door at least?”

“Sure,” he can’t say no to her.

She stays put this time, he runs around to her door and opens it, expecting her to jump right out but she pulls him close, using her height in the seat to her advantage. She touches his forehead gently, “you’re not fevered today, that’s good at least… I’d hate to miss another week with you.”

“I’ll come get you tomorrow, but I’m not working,” he compromises, knowing he hates not getting to see her too.

She hops out of the van and takes his hand on the way up to her door, “I could get used to this treatment.”

“You should,” he agrees. “Cause I’m not giving up.”

In sickness and in health and all that jazz… he’d be there through it all if she wanted him.

At her door, she gives him those same eyes as in the van, and he wants to kiss her so goddamn bad but he can’t. He simply pulls her into a hug and holds her tight, cheek pressed to the top of her head. She holds him around the middle just as tightly, it's a beautiful goodbye for a couple of friends.

—

He comes to pick her up for her next shift once again, only this time he pulls her into a hug at the door and kisses the top of her head, “hey, sweetheart, ready for work?”

She can only nod against him, soaking in the hug as long as she can get. “What was that for?” She asks as he pulls back.

He shrugs, “just cause… I missed you, I guess.”

“I missed you, too,” she wraps her arm around his middle and holds him close as she joins him on the walk back to his van. “Which is funny 'cause we’ve been talking more than ever, lately.”

“I know,” he loved it and it was evident in his voice.

Every night that she’s not working they talk on the phone, from the time she’s done with her classwork until he has to leave for his night shifts. It was a lovely little tradition now, he loved to learn about all her projects and reports, and he even let her read things over for his opinion. More than once he’s called her a genius, but the best thing he’s ever said to her was “your future kiddos are going to love you.” In regard to the class of students, she was going to teach one day.

It’s a day like any other, they have little conversations on their way to work, clock in together and head right to the first aisle on their to-do list. He dances around to the music, they toss things at each other, he makes dirty jokes, and she shakes her head with so much love you could see hearts float around her head. It’s so completely normal.

And then she almost drops a whole shelf on herself, he’s quick to swoop in and catch it for her. They put it back in place and carefully let it go, making sure it stays put before she turns to thank him… only he’s about an inch, maybe two from her face.

“That was a close one,” he whispers, staring at her lips. “Would hate to lose you to the soup aisle.”

She can’t help staring back at his lips, wanting to kiss him so goddamn bad she forgets how to breathe for a moment. It’s like time stops while she stares at him and he stares back.

“I’d hate to lose you at all…”

“Why?” Even she’s surprised to hear it come out of her.

He doesn’t say anything, he simply leans in more, and so does she. Meeting him halfway, their lips touch slowly and then all at once. A hand of his cups her face, holding her in place while she holds his sides, pulling him closer so their chests are pressed together.

Breathing each other in deeply, she feels her soul intertwine with his at that moment. Everything makes sense. She was supposed to take this little job and spend all this time with him for this moment right here. It was always supposed to happen.

They were meant to happen.

They pull away with a matching smile, giggling as they come to terms with the fact that just happened… it finally happened.

“You understand what I mean, right?” He teases.

She nods, “yeah… I get it, but could you say it just one more time?”

“Here?” He teases, kissing her cheek. “Or here?” He kisses her jaw next and moves towards her ear, “I could say it all over you if you let me.”

“We’re still at work,” she reminds him, pushing him away slightly before he could kiss her neck and start something he couldn’t finish in the freaking soup aisle.

“Do you want to come over later? To kiss a bit and read more lord of the rings?” He offers, making it sound a lot more innocent than either of them wanted it to be.

“Only if you read the chapter this time,” she teases, heart racing in her chest at the prospect of being alone with him.

Him.

The one and the only crush she’s had for the last 6 years of her life.

He flirts with her more than ever after that, he steals kisses every time he passes her and even serenades the love songs on the speaker to her. She pokes his sides when she passes by him, learning that he’s ticklish and he yelps every time she does it.

In his van on the way home, after not being able to keep their hands off each other most of the night, they have to so he can focus on the road.

“Does this make us more than friends?” She wonders aloud, hoping he had the same worry.

He nods, “I’d hope so… but if you want me to ask, I can?”

He holds her hand in the middle of the centre console again, rubbing his thumb over her hand gently.

“What if I want to do it?” She teases. “I want to make you my boyfriend, I’ve thought about it for years.”

“That’s crazy,” he can’t believe it, shaking his head as he drives a bit faster, wanting to be home with her so bad.

“Why?” She sounds so defeated.

“I never thought you liked me, I thought you were just really smiley… you could’ve been mine this whole time,” he explains just how crazy it was for him. In a very good way.

“I can’t even imagine having a boyfriend in high school,” she admits.

He slows down when he enters the trailer park, follows the poorly plowed path towards his own trailer and parks. Finally turning to her again with a smile, “I’ve never had a girlfriend before either, it’s all really new to me too.”

“Was that your first kiss too?” She whispers, scared that it wasn’t.

She was right.

He shakes his head, “Cheryl Lenetti in grade 7… she liked to pet my head when we made out, she said my hair felt like a seal pup when it was shaved. So fuckin weird.”

It makes her laugh a bit, “I can’t imagine it short…”

“I’ve got pictures,” he assures her, “Wayne’s kept all my life well documented. He likes to tease me and say that he’ll sell the embarrassing ones to the tabloids when my band blows up.”

“I need to see them,” she agrees and lets go of his hand finally, reaching for her door but once again, Eddie rushes out to beat her to it like a bat out of hell.

She shakes her head with an affectionate smile, taking his hand again once outside and carefully treating through the lightly shovelled snow leading up to his trailer. He helps her out of her coat and hangs it up for her, leaving her to kick off her boots and awkwardly stand in his main room. It’s a lot more put together than the last time he visited. like he planned to invite her over, so it was clean this time.

“You want anything to eat?”

She shakes her head, “no… honestly I’m too nervous to eat anything right now.”

“Oh, why?” He moves into her space, hands on her shoulders, slipping down her arms while pulling her in closer.

“You’re handsome and you want to kiss me and I have no idea what I’m doing and— and,” she stops with a sigh and a shrug.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he says with so much affection his smile makes his cheeks hurt. His eyes glisten back at her, and he shakes his head ever so slightly, amazed that she likes him back this much. “You don’t need to be nervous, there’s nothing you could do that would make me stop liking you at this point.”

She takes the plunge this time, she presses her lips against his, holding his waist she wraps her arms around his back and holds him there. He’s shocked at first and then he settles, hand coming up to cup her face as he kisses back. She’s not completely sure what she’s doing, but she’s seen enough movies to imitate what she’s seen. He smiles into the 4th or 5th peck she presses to his lips and pulls back.

“Do you want to go sit down?”

“Like in your room?”

“If you want?”

She nods, cautious as ever but she wants to spend the whole night kissing him. He walks her down the hallway, into his dark room where he flicks on his side table lamp to show off his perfectly made bed and clean-ish room. “Welcome back,” he teases.

“You planned this,” she calls him out. “Did you know you were going to kiss me at work today?”

“Not at all,” he assures her, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. Legs spread so she could stand between them, and she brushes her hands through his hair while he looks up at her. “I was going to ask you to come over, yeah, but kissing you was a surprise to me too… I like you so much it’s fucking crazy.”

“I like you just as much,” she leans in, bumping their noses together with a smile. “You want to teach me how to make out?”

He laughs, scooting up to the head of the bed, resting against the headrest, “you want to lie down or sit in my lap, or what?”

“Um,” she bites her lip, deciding to be daring, she kneels on the bed and straddles his lap. “This is good, right?”

“Absolutely,” he rests his hands on her hips, smoothing his thumbs over the fabric of her pants. “I just want you to be comfortable, princess.”

She rests her forearms on his shoulders, hands in his hair, and she brushes his bangs out of his face to get a good look in his eyes. His big beautiful chocolate brown eyes that she loves so fucking much. “You’re so pretty,” she whispers. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

He shakes his head lightly, “no…”

“There,” she smiles. “You get my first kiss and I get to tell you how pretty you are—

“You can have all my other firsts too,” he whispers, selling his soul to her in the way he stares at her. She knows he’s giving all of himself to her at that moment. “You can have all of me.”

“I— I uh, I think we can start with kissing,” she frightens right up again.

“Sorry,” he runs his hands up her back gently, “I’m not expecting anything… I just wanted you to know there’s a lot I haven’t done with anyone either, I’m just as new to this. We’re on the same level.”

“Not yet,” she finally leans in for another kiss, holding his face in her hands to keep herself steady more than anything.

He licks at her bottom lip, it’s strange but she follows his lead, coming back in with an open mouth their tongues touch for a moment and then he sucks on her tongue. Again and again, they both come back in, exploring each other's mouths while his hands trail up and down her back and she plays with his hair once again.

She doesn’t mean to grind against him, but her hips take over like they have a mind of their own as the pace and rhythm are set with through tongues. He moans into her mouth, pulling back with a shade of embarrassment painted across his cheeks. “sorry…”

“It’s fine,” she’s a little breathless, so enamoured with him.

He stares back at her fondly, taking in how cute she looked with lust-blown eyes and swollen lips, he smiles, “you’re good at this…”

“Feels like it,” she teases, making him think she can feel how hard he’s getting under her and he panics.

“You don’t have to sit on me if it’s uncomfortable, I did’t mean to—

“To what?”

“Get hard…” he whispers, “it’s embarrassing.”

“Oh,” she hovers and looks down between them, more turned on, herself, than she realized, as well. “Oh.”

Maybe I am ready to do this…

She settles back down against him and shakes her head, “no, I’m not uncomfortable… it— it’s nice to know I did that, actually.”

“Can I just—“ he reaches between them and adjusts himself because it was a bit uncomfortable for him, he was hanging to the left and thats where her thigh was rested, and now he’s right under her… “sorry, it hurt a bit.”

“Sorry,” her cheeks heat up, she can feel his girth through his jeans, she has to fight every single urge not to grind down against him again, but she knows it would feel good.

For both of them.

“It’s okay, kiss me again?” He begs, pulling her closer.

Their lips collide again but with much more passion and need this time, knowing what she’s doing a bit better, she’s all over him this round. Biting his lip, making him whine, tugging on his hair, she grinds against him again, not so by accident because his hands on his hips help glide her over himself perfectly. She does it again this time, he gasps into the kiss and rests his forehead against hers as she does it again and again, dragging her hot core over his aching, clothed, cock. There’s so much friction from their jeans, they feel like total fucking teenagers dry humping in his bed like they can’t get enough of each other.

He kisses her jaw and down her neck, he sucks on her pulse point which makes her moan, it's so sweet and sexy that his cock twitches under his jeans in response. She feels it and whines, wanting more from him but not knowing what… it feels so fucking good she wants to just say fuck it and let him take her right here and now, but she’s still scared.

She grinds down a bit harder, the seam of her pants rubbing against her clit just right. “Oh my god,” she’s so out of breath, it feels too good.

“I’m gonna cum in my jeans if you keep this up,” he warns her, breathing against her neck between kisses.

“Me too,” she assures him, doing it again and again, she tugs on his hair to bring his mouth back to hers, wanting to be kissing him when it happens.

His hips come up to meet hers, his hands on her ass this time so he can help her press against him as hard as she can each time she grinds down against him. Her legs tremble a bit, his breathing sputters, and they’re a completely sweaty mess with too many clothes on.

She feels the all too familiar heat build in her stomach and spread throughout her body as she cums with a long drawn-out sigh, which ends more like a moan as he finishes underneath her. His grip on her ass tightens, and he groans deeply as his hips sputter under her, their foreheads resting together as they catch their breath, eyes still closed.

She feels so weightless and free, resting her head on his shoulder instead and cuddling into his chest. “Oh my god?”

His chest still rising and falling heavily, he laughs slightly, “wasn’t expecting that.”

“Me either…” she sighs, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “But I liked it.”

“Me too,” he can’t help but smile. His hands roam all over her back, holding her close and soaking up the moment as long as he can. “You wanna stay here tonight?”

She nods against him, not at all ready to leave his side. “I would love to.”

Slowly but surely, they get up, he lets her use the bathroom first, giving her some boxers of his and a t-shirt to wear when she comes back out. He changes quickly in his room, hiding all the evidence of what happened in his dirty laundry hamper. He matches her in a new pair of underwear and the same shirt from before, smiling when she comes back into his room with her things in her hands. She rests them on his dresser, she’d have to wear them again tomorrow when she goes home.

“You’re so cute in my things,” he compliments her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her forehead a few times.

“Thanks,” she giggles, completely blown away still that this is all real and he’s her’s and it’s happening.

They get into bed, and she snuggles into him the same way he did with her just last week with the lord of the rings. It’s cute, it feels right, and she feels at home in his arms. He runs his hands over her back. He kisses the top of her head a few times, she plays with the hem of his shirt in her hands and eventually slips her hands under his shirt to play with the slight dusting of hair on his tummy. They’re so content together it’s like they’ve always been this close.

And they always would be too.

part two

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Eddie

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itsmealaiah · 2 months

Text

TW: comfort angst, use of alcohol, drinking, p in v sex, protected sex, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, idk how to describe it so like make up sex?

Request: (by @il0vet0mk4ulitz) hopefully u write this on ur massive writing request rampage, can you write about tom and y/n being connected again by seeing each other at a bar after being broken up for 4 years. he's older now (2014 era) and they go back to his, catch up on things and then start to kiss which leads to sexy time tyyy love <33

Rating: mature themes ahead! mdni, please mind the tags!

WC: 2.3k

Not proofread!

The dim lighting of the bar made it difficult for Tom to make out any distinct features of the woman across the room, but he could tell it was you. Four years ago, you had been inseparable, but now, you were strangers. He hadn't seen you since you left him that day, and the pain had been unbearable. But tonight, as he watched you laugh and sip your drink, he couldn't help but feel a spark of hope. Maybe this was the moment he'd been waiting for, the moment when fate brought you back together.

He gathered his courage and made his way over to your table. As he slid into the booth next to you, you looked up at him, your eyes widening in recognition. "Tom?"

"Hi, y/n," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn't want to scare you off. "It's been a long time."

You nodded, still looking a little unsure. "It has," you agreed. There was an awkward silence as you both took each other in. Tom hadn't realized how much you'd grown up since he'd last seen you. You looked so confident and put together now. "How have you been?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"I've been alright," Tom replied, gesturing for the bartender to bring him a drink. "the band's been pretty busy. How about you?"

You told him about your new job, the apartment you'd moved into, and the trips you'd taken over the past four years. As you talked, Tom found himself lost in your eyes again, the pain of the past fading away. It felt like no time had passed at all. When the conversation began to flow more easily, he reached over and took your hand in his, giving it a light squeeze. You looked up at him, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips.

"So," you said, clearing your throat, "you still live around here?"

"Yeah," Tom replied, nodding. "I moved into a new place with bill when we broke up. It's nothing fancy, but it's close to everything."

You looked down at your hand, still intertwined with his. "I'm glad you've been doing alright," you said softly. "I've missed you."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with emotion. Tom leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I've missed you too, y/n." He could feel the tension building between you, and he knew that if he didn't make a move soon, he'd regret it.

Slowly, he traced his finger along your jawline, down the length of your neck, before pulling you closer. Your lips met in a tender, hesitant kiss. It was as if no time had passed since the last time you'd been together, the kisses still seemingly full of love.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel the tension begin to ease from your bodies. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your body against his, wanting to feel as close to him as possible. Tom let out a low groan, his hands sliding up under your shirt, tracing the outline of your back.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the feeling of being together again. The music around you faded away, the noise of the bar disappeared, and it was just the two of you. It felt right, so right, like nothing had ever changed.

Eventually, you pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily. Tom's eyes were still locked on yours, his expression a mixture of desire and tenderness. "Do you want to come back to my place?" he asked, his voice husky.

You smiled, feeling a shiver run down your spine. "I'd like that," you replied, a note of longing in your voice. "I'd really like that."

You finished your drink and stood up, allowing Tom to help you gather your things. As you walked out of the bar, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders, as if you were finally able to breathe again. The night air was cool against your skin, and you held onto tom's, drawing him closer. He wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand finding the small of your back as he led you to his car. The drive seemed to pass in a blur, your heart racing with anticipation of what was to come.

When you finally arrived at his place, Tom fumbled for his keys, unlocking the door and ushering you inside. The apartment was cozy and warm, with a comfortable couch and a well-lit kitchen. You followed him into the bedroom, your gaze sweeping over the familiar surroundings. The bed was unmade, the sheets tangled and inviting. You couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to lie there with Tom again.

He closed the door behind you and turned to face you, taking in your appearance. You could see the desire burning in his eyes, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "You're even more beautiful than I remember," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

Slowly, he reached up and cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. His eyes never left yours as he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, their softness molding against yours. Your bodies melted together, his strength holding you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands roamed down your back, feeling the smooth skin beneath his fingertips. You could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against you, and it sent a wave of desire coursing through you.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air as he trailed his lips down your neck, sucking gently on the soft skin there. His hands moved lower, sliding over your hips and then lower still, until they were cupping your ass. He squeezed gently, pulling you closer against his hard length. You moaned, arching your back as you felt the need for him grow more urgent.

He turned you around, pressing you against the wall, his body pinning you there. His kisses grew more urgent, his tongue dancing with yours as his hands found the buttons of your shirt. With shaking fingers, he undid them one by one, revealing your bare skin to his touch. He traced the outline of your breasts with his thumbs, causing them to peak through the lace of your bra. You arched your back, wanting more, needing him closer. He reached behind you, unclasping your bra with practiced ease, freeing your breasts from their confines.

He cupped them in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. You cried out, the sensation almost too much to bear. He leaned down, taking one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking gently at first and then harder as he flicked his tongue against the peak. You moaned, your head falling back against the wall, your body trembling with desire. He switched to the other breast, treating it to the same attentive love, teasing and pleasuring until you were lost in the sensation of his touch.

Finally, he released you, breathing heavily against your neck. You could feel the heat from his body, the hardness of his erection pressed against you. He unbuckled his belt, lowered his pants, and kicked them off, revealing his arousal. His hands went to the button of your jeans, and then with a gentle tug, he slid them down your hips, over your legs, until you were standing before him in only your underwear.

He stepped back, taking in the sight of you. You could feel a blush creep up your neck and onto your cheeks, but the desire in his eyes made you feel beautiful, desired. He moved forward again, his lips finding yours in a deep, hungry kiss. His hands moved up your sides, cupping your breasts once more, before sliding down to your hips, helping to guide you to the bed.

As you fell onto the mattress, he followed, his weight pressing you into the soft surface. His kisses trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, to your breast. He cupped your breast in his hand, his thumb circling your nipple as he lowered his head, taking the hardened peak into his mouth. You moaned, arching your back, the sensation almost too much to bear.

He moved lower, his tongue tracing the line of your ribs before reaching your navel. He teased it with his tongue, circling it before finally dipping inside. You gasped, your hips lifting off the bed as you felt the need for him grow more urgent. He slid his hand down between your legs, feeling the wetness of your arousal. He parted your folds, exposing your swollen clit, and began to tease it with his fingers.

You cried out, your body trembling as he brought you to the brink of orgasm. You felt the sensation building, growing more intense with each stroke of his fingers. You arched your back, your legs falling open wider, giving him better access. And then he pressed two fingers inside you, finding your g-spot, and began to thrust. You screamed, your body convulsing as the pleasure overtook you. You came hard, your inner walls squeezing around his fingers as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you.

He held you close, his lips moving over your neck and shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. You felt his erection pressed against your leg, and the thought of him being inside you for the first time in four years sent a shiver down your spine. He rolled off you, reaching for a condom from his bedside table, and rolled it on with practiced ease. Then he was back on top of you, his weight pinning you to the bed. He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes meeting yours in the darkness.

With one smooth thrust, he was inside you, filling you up in a way that had been achingly empty for so long. You cried out, arching your back as he buried himself to the hilt. The sensation of being connected to him again was overwhelming, and you felt a fresh wave of desire wash over you. He began to move, his hips slapping against yours in a rhythmic cadence that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

He held your gaze as he fucked you, his expression a mix of desire and tenderness that left you breathless. His fingers dug into your hips, urging you to meet his thrusts, and you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into the sensation. He was so big, so solid, and the feel of him moving inside you was almost too much to bear.

You moaned, arching your back as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. He growled, his hips snapping faster in response. You could feel the heat building between you, and with each passing second it grew more intense. You tried to match his pace, but found yourself unable to keep up with his strength.

His movements became rougher, more demanding. He slammed into you, over and over, their bodies slapping together in a rhythm that felt almost primal. You could feel the head of his cock brush against something deep inside you with each thrust, and it sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice raw with desire. "Let me feel you." He gripped your hips tighter, his thrusts harder, his pace more demanding. You arched your back, meeting his force with your own, unable to resist the urge to match him stroke for stroke.

His lips found your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin as he continued to thrust. You felt the pressure building inside you, the familiar tightness in your belly that signaled your impending release. You cried out, your body tensing as the sensation overwhelmed you.

"Yes, that's it," he groaned, feeling your body tensing around him. He slammed into you one final time, his cock throbbing as he came, filling the condom. You could feel him shudder above you, his weight bearing down on you as he rode out the wave of pleasure.

He collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His heavy breaths fanned your neck as he came down from his high. You lay there, feeling his weight, his warmth, his presence. You could feel the stickiness between your legs where he had been inside you, the residual ache of being filled. It was all so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. It had been four years since he'd been inside you, and the feeling was overwhelming in the best possible way.

You smiled to yourself, remembering how he used to tease you, make you moan. You could feel the heat in your cheeks as you recalled the way he would look at you with such desire, his eyes dark and intense. You traced your fingers over the skin where his had been, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your palm. It was then that you realized something: despite all the pain and hurt that had come between you, there was still a connection there. A connection that went deeper than words or time.

You felt a pang in your heart as you thought about the years that had passed, the fights you'd had, the hurt you'd caused each other. But in this moment, with his weight bearing down on you, you couldn't help but feel hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other. Maybe you could rediscover the love and passion that had brought you together in the first place.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You could feel his lips move against your skin, his breath warm and steady. He kissed your shoulder, his lips soft against your skin. "I've missed you, you know," he murmured.

You opened your eyes, looking up at him. His gaze met yours, and for a moment, you could see the vulnerability behind the familiar mask of strength. "I've missed you too," you whispered, reaching up to touch his face. "So much."

Taglist: @madzandmore @il0vet0mk4ulitz @20doozers

Requests are open! keep sending them in 💗

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #itsmealaiah #tokiohotel #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x y/n #evieskiesss #billskeis

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so-long-soldier-writes · 1 year

Text

Do You Believe in Soulmates, Darling?

poly!mikaelsons x reader

summary: after waiting a thousand years to find their soulmates, the mikaelsons find it in mystic falls. one thing though - they all share the same lover. | request

word count: 7k (I don’t know how this happened)

tags: soulmates, fluff, human!reader

It is Kol that sees you first. He is standing in the town square, observing how people are in the twenty-first century, and how much has changed since he’d last been undaggered. He hadn’t really planned on being out that day, but Klaus was getting unruly in the mansion, needing quiet time to paint. Kol wasn’t in the mood to be on the receiving end of his anger again, so he scurried out the door and decided to explore the town.

It’s peaceful and no one bothers him. No siblings, nor vampires, nor townspeople. For once, the inhabitants of Mystic Falls mind their own business.

By nearly three o’clock, he still occupies the square. Klaus was probably over his anger hours ago, but Kol finds he quite likes the scene. Despite enjoying the time away, though, he knows he should go home soon before a sibling catches up to him. One cannot escape the family for too long; that’s the blessing and curse of family. With a sigh, he stands up to leave, sparing one last glance to the park before him.

Thank god for that last look. Had he not taken it, he wouldn’t have noticed you. That would be a missed connection never known, but to secretly haunt him forever.

You, with your gentle smile as you look at the girl to your left. The way your eyes roll at something she says. The way you walk gracefully towards him, though he knows that’s not where you’re headed. Suddenly, something inside him wishes it were. Something fluttering in his chest; something that starts to beg for your attention. He stares at you as if his gaze would somehow attract yours.

“Are you daft? Kol! Hello?!” None of the words register to him. However, the swift hit to the head does.

Kol whips around to see his sister. Her hands open to him in frustration.

“I’ve been calling you for ages, standing right beside you. What are you even looking at?”

“Nothing,” he says, almost stutters.

“Certainly not nothing to have your attention like that.” Rebekah scoffs, then tries to follow his line of sight.

By then, you had dipped into a store. Kol secretly curses his sister for the distraction.

“That bird over there, you were seeing?” There’s a bluebird standing where you just were.

“No.”

“Then whatever in the name of-”

“Just a girl, Bekah. So like I said, nothing.”

“Oh? A girl’s caught your attention?” She snickers, “tell me, is she pretty?”

“Can you bugger off?”

“Why don’t you just answer?”

“Because I-” he stops upon seeing you again. You and Caroline tumble out of the store laughing, clutching onto each other’s shoulders. He listens to the words he sees leave your lips.

“That was so weird,” you mutter.

“People here are so strange sometimes,” Caroline agrees with your statement.

“Because you what?” Rebekah’s voice cuts back in. When Kol doesn’t answer, she follows his gaze again. “Caroline Forbes?”

“No, the girl beside her.”

A tease is prepared on the tip of her tongue, but upon seeing you, it’s gone. The two Mikaelsons are quiet for a moment as they watch you and Caroline continue to laugh.

“My, she is pretty,” the blonde finally admits. “Go talk to her.”

“Do you really think it’s wise for me to go over there with Caroline Forbes right there?”

“Well if you don’t now, you could lose her forever!”

“Or I could lose my life when her blonde friend rips my head from my neck!”

“You never know until you try.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea what will happen if I do that.”

“Caroline won’t kill you because then she’ll lose brownie points with our brother.”

“Fair point, Bekah, but-” He’s interrupted by two ringing phones. Specifically, his and his sister’s. “Bloody hell. Almost went all day without a summoning.”

“Who’s calling you?”

“Klaus.”

“Elijah’s got me. Guess we have to go back now. Wish your pretty girl farewell.”

Kol rolls his eyes at her words. He steals one last glance at you before following his sister to what he hopes isn’t some new brand of chaos.

◇◇◇◇

“So is it true?” You turn to your best friend.

“What?”

“That Klaus has a thing for you?”

She slouches in her next few steps, “really?! Y/N! As if I hadn’t had this conversation so many times.”

“Well, is it?”

“Ugh. I don’t know! I think he does, but trust me, I don’t feel anything for him back!”

“Aw,” you joke, “why not give him a chance? He could be your soulmate for all you know?”

She lets out a sharp laugh, “no way! In fact, Klaus has no soulmate, and do you know why?” She doesn’t give you a chance to answer before saying, “because I don’t think he even has a soul.”

“Caroline!”

“Am I wrong?”

“I- I don’t know, I’ve never met the guy!”

“Well good. Avoid him. He can be charming, I’ll give him that, but it doesn’t take away the fact that he’s a killer.”

“He can’t be that bad. We’ve all killed once or twice.”

“First of all, yes, he is. Second, no, we haven’t. I have. You have not, and that will stay that way.”

“Maybe I have, you don’t know that.”

She snorts, “You’re too sweet for that. And besides, even if you have, you’d tell me right away with your guilty conscience.”

“I do not have a-”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Fine, I might. But don’t mistake that for me not having fire, because I can assure you, I do.”

“Oh I know you do. That’s what makes us such good friends. But you need to remember that you’re human, so you still need to be careful.”

“I know, I know!”

“Which includes talking about Klaus, because he could be listening.”

“Sorry,” you try to hide your smirk, “I won’t ask about the big bad vampire again.”

“Good.” Caroline’s not at all convinced that this’ll be your last question about them, but at least it’ll be the last for today.

Ever since the Mikaelsons have arrived in Mystic Falls, you’ve been curious about them. It’s hard enough keeping you out of the Salvatore drama, but that difficulty increased tenfold when the original family came into play. With you and Matt being the only two humans left in the friend group, they’re very protective of you. You, even more-so than Matt. Matt’s met most of them by working at the grill, but the girls do their best to hide your existence from the four siblings. They all swear that if they ever find you, nothing good would happen.

◇◇◇◇

“You two have been out all day, where could you have possibly gone?” Elijah questions as soon as he sees his two youngest siblings enter the mansion.

Kol already has his answer ready, “well seeing as Klaus was about ready to kill us all this morning, I decided it would be in my best interest to get away from him.”

“He’s been steady since one. It’s past three now.”

“Lost track of time, I guess. Tell me, what is it you wanted?”

“Why? Have something to get back to you?”

Rebekah, who had left to fetch a glass of bourbon, replies, “yes, actually. I was quite occupied before you called.”

“You two? Together? Sounds like a recipe for disaster,” the eldest raises his eyebrows. “Hopefully not planning a kill in the square?”

“On the contrary, dear brother. But unfortunately for you, it’s none of your business. So again, what is it for which you called?”

“Ever so fiesty, Rebekah. Worry not, we just wanted to make sure you weren't starting anything."

"What? That's it?"

"What kind of older brother would I be if I don't check up on my younger, more troublesome siblings?"

"You called us both home for that?"

"What’s got you so bitter, sister? Mystic Falls isn't so interesting that you should be so upset."

"Not to you, but this time, we actually did find something interesting, thank you!"

"Oh, do tell, Rebekah," her other brother asks as he fetches his own drink.

"Doesn't matter now that we'll never see her again," Kol mutters, sharing an annoyed look with the blonde.

"Her?"

Rebekah glares, "yes, a girl. But Kol's right, doesn't matter." She swallows down the rest of the liquor in one gulp.

The two eldest brothers are too confused to question further. Kol takes this as a chance to retreat to his room, while Rebekah, after one more look at Elijah, leaves to hers.

"What girl could have stolen the attention of our two siblings so quickly?"

"Doubt there is one at all. They just wanted a reason to get away," Klaus snaps with a tone full of anger.

Elijah detects a hint of jealousy, but says nothing. Nor does he share about his curiosity for this supposed girl that infatuated them both.

◇◇◇◇

Two days later, you’re spotted in the square again, this time, by Elijah himself. At first glance, he makes no connection between you and whomever his siblings saw, but rather takes in the sight of you. You are sitting by the fountain, legs crossed on the cement, and a hand reaching into the water. A stack of books are in front of you, the one on top open, and a notebook to your left. You pay no attention to them, though, and keep your eyes trained on the small waterfall. The sight of a human so seemingly relaxed in such a busy and perilous town has him unable to draw away his attention. He watches you carefully from the square’s metal bench, far enough that you could not catch his eye.

Only a mere five minutes pass before you have company. A girl Elijah recognizes - April Young - touches your shoulder lightly. You turn to her with a smile as she starts to speak. Curiosity kills him, so Elijah tunes in to listen.

“If someone finds you out here, they’re not going to be happy.”

“I don’t care, April, I’m so bored. I can’t be inside all day just because they’re scared I’m going to encounter vampires.”

“Shh! You know they could overhear you, right?”

“It’s fine! They have no reason to hurt me, I’m just minding my own business.”

“They don’t need a reason to hurt anyone, Y/N, they just do. They drink blood, remember?”

“Okay, sure, point taken. But since I apparently have a team of protectors, I should be fine, right?”

“Yeah, but-”

“And, hey, you’re human. Why are you allowed to talk to them? Who’s the girl again? Rebekah?”

“Y/N, be quiet! Yes, I talk to them, but it’s because they found me first and dragged me into all this. And Matt’s been dragged in almost since day one. You haven’t been discovered by them yet, and we all need to keep it that way.”

“So boring! I want to be in on the fun.”

“It’s not fun, Y/N. I’m serious. None of them will be gentle if they find you; they’re all dangerous.”

You sigh, giving up on arguing with the girl.

“You know what they say, ‘curiosity killed the cat’,” April says.

“Okay, but they also say, ‘satisfaction brought it back’,” you finish, eyebrows raised.

April rolls her eyes, “stay out of it. In fact, I’m texting Caroline right now that you left your house if you don’t go back right now.”

“I’m not going back, I’m studying here.”

“Study at home.”

“No.”

Immediately, she starts to dial Caroline. In an instant, you pack your books back into your bag. “See you later, buzzkill.”

The girl hangs up, but doesn’t leave until you do. You know better than to try and win a fight against both of them, so you head home, missing the square already.

Elijah knows he shouldn’t follow you. Caroline could be on her way; April’s in the distance. Yet, he can’t watch you walk away, either. He must at least know your name, or else it might kill him. At the very least, he could compel the conversation out of your mind as soon as he hears it.

He waits until you’re alone to approach. Probably not the best way to do it, but he doesn’t know how many there are keeping you hidden in your supposed “team of protectors”. And this way, it would be easier to compel, should it come to that. So, as you travel down the sidewalk, humming to yourself, he suddenly calls out to you,

“Excuse me, miss.”

You turn quickly towards the voice. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the handsome stranger. “Um, hi.”

“I mean you no harm, but I saw you in the square just a little bit ago, and I have to know your name.”

You hesitate, unsure if you should give it.

He continues, “I know this is quite random, but I truly do not wish to frighten you. I saw you by the fountain, unbothered by the world around you. The screams of children, the barking of dogs, but nothing disrupted your focus from the gentle flow of water. I could tell it brought you peace, and I could see the secret you harbored to jump in and enjoy it. It was beautiful, not to mention the beauty that you are, yourself. So, apologies if I am crossing a line, but I can’t help but wonder what name to put on this delicate soul that has imprinted on my own.”

You stare at him, speechless from his words. Never has anyone said such beautiful things to you, and in such an alluring accent, no less.

“My apologies, love. I fear I have said too much.”

“N-no! Forgive me, I’ve just never had a man tell me I’m beautiful before.”

“That is quite a shame. Sure they just have never told you out loud.” He walks closer to you, feeling a bit more confident that you’re not afraid.

A blush rises to your cheeks, but you’re still unable to form a response. “I-I, um… Y/N. My name.”

He repeats your name, tasting it on his tongue. “Lovely name. Lovely name for a lovely girl.”

“Thank you. And what’s yours, may I ask?”

Elijah hesitates. It hurts his heart knowing he’ll have to compel this conversation from your mind, but at least, he can give you his name before he does. “Elijah Mikaelson.”

“You- you’re a Mikaelson?”

“Afraid I am.” He scans your face for fear, which he wholeheartedly expected. However, nothing.

“You’re the first I’ve gotten the pleasure to meet. I’ve been curious, I’ll admit, but my friends tell me to stay away,” you pause, “which you probably found out from my conversation with April a few minutes ago. Oops.”

“It’s alright, love. I won’t tell a soul of your secret.”

“Thanks,” you smile, “I hate being cooped up in the house all day. You were right - I did want to jump in that fountain.”

“You should’ve. I bet the joy on your face would have been unmatched.”

You swallow hard. You’ve never been good at taking compliments. Especially not those given to you by a handsome man who has lived long enough to see thousands of beautiful things. Never would you have expected to be one of those things. “I think I should’ve, too.”

Suddenly, you get a text. In a brief glance, you see it’s Caroline. “Oh crap.”

“Is everything alright?”

You sigh, “it’s Caroline, asking me to send a picture of myself in my kitchen, with an egg in my hand, and a spoon on my head. I guess I have to go.”

“Such an odd request,” he wonders out loud.

“She likes to put me up to things like this to prove I’m at home. It’s something I won’t have in my pictures already, and have to do that instant. If I don’t get it done in five minutes, she comes over.”

“Well I guess I better let you leave, then.”

“Unfortunately, yes. But I liked meeting you, Elijah.”

He smiles, “you too, Miss Y/N.” He steps forward and takes your palm to kiss it. In a deep breath before he starts to compel you, you suddenly interrupt him.

“Wait! I’m way more than five minutes away. Crap! She’s gonna catch me.”

He shouldn’t offer. He shouldn’t know where you live. Yet, the idea of you getting caught out of your house worries him. He may never see you again if that happens. “I could, perhaps, take you home? Could get you there much quicker than if you were to walk.”

“You would do that?”

“I owe you that little, being the reason you might get caught otherwise.”

You blush at the thought of him picking you up, but try to force it away. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” He picks you up bridal style, and before you know it, you’re on your porch.

“Thank you.” You smile, then check your phone. “Oh, shoot! Two minutes left.” You’re quick to unlock your door and throw it open. “Come in and help me find an egg!”

Surely you know the rules about those words pertaining to vampires and one’s home, yet you said them without hesitation. You didn’t stick around for him to question you, either, and instead ran to complete the quest. Slowly, he tests the entryway, and enters with no resistance. He then finds you in your kitchen digging through the fridge, then pulling out an egg. As quickly as you can, you take a selfie and send it to Caroline.

“Whew!” You breathe out, then notice him, “hi.”

“You completed your challenge?”

“Hopefully! But she might still come by because it was April that called her.”

“So I should probably leave.”

You bite your lip, not wanting him to go.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you invite me inside?”

“Because I needed you to find an egg. Which I found myself, so thanks,” you joke.

He smiles, but only for a second, “I’m serious.”

“I don’t know, I trust you.”

“Why? I’m a Mikaelson. The very family that your friends told you to avoid.”

“Well maybe I don’t like being told what to do. And maybe you don’t seem so bad to me.”

“I would like to prove your feelings right. I wish I could.” He says truthfully, catching your eyes.

You start to look back, but then his words hit you. I wish I could. You straighten, then look away from his gaze. “Don’t compel me.”

“What?”

“Don’t you dare compel me to forget this. I don’t want to forget this. I don’t want to forget you. You, or your smile, or the things you’ve said. Please don’t take it away from me.”

“Y/N-”

“Please.”

He takes a deep breath. It must be done, but he hates it. He doesn’t want you to forget. In fact, he wants to know you deeper. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t. I won’t tell, I promise. If anything, compel me to never forget.”

“Y/N-”

“‘Lijah, don’t.”

The nickname you’ve already given him weakens him. It renders him unable to finish the task; there’s no way he can force himself to compel you now. “Alright.”

“Wait, really?”

“If you’re sure you want to remember, but you’re sure you’ll never tell.”

“I promise. And I won’t say that I invited in a Mikaelson, either.”

He chuckles, “that would be wise.” He kisses your hand again. “I hope to see you again, Y/N.”

“You too. And thanks for taking me home.”

“Of course, love.”

After he leaves, you collapse on your couch, head swirling with thoughts of him. The words he said: how he described your time at the fountain, the beauty he saw in you. His own appearance: kind eyes, small wrinkles under them from a lack of sleep or hundreds of lifetimes lived, or both, a perfectly neat suit, the dark blue ring fitted on his finger. The way he watched you take Caroline’s picture with a smile on the edge of his lips. How he kissed your hand gently as a parting.

Your cheeks are hot with blush, not to mention the heat you feel throughout your body. Butterflies are alive in your stomach. It all makes you feel so silly, but some part of you whispers that it’s love at first sight.

◇◇◇◇

The minute Klaus hears the door open, he’s already yelling, “another sibling spending hours out and about in Mystic Falls. Where in the bloody hell have you been all day, Elijah?”

Elijah enters the room to find Klaus standing beside another painting, while the two other siblings sit on the couch. All three have glasses of bourbon and are sipping carefully. “What’s going on?”

“For once? Nothing. We all just happen to be here.”

“Where have you been, Elijah?” Rebekah turns around in her seat to question him.

Before he can answer, Klaus chuckles, “let me guess! Out with a girl. You only wear that smile when you’ve found a girl to fancy.”

“Niklaus, I have not-”

“Oh don’t try, I’ve known you for a thousand years!”

“Better not be my girl, mate,” Kol mutters, though his tone isn’t rough like Klaus’.

“Your girl is my girl, too, Kol. Remember that.”

“Heaven’s sake, you all are idiots.” Klaus turns back to his work, ignoring the three.

Elijah ignores him right back, and instead looks down to the others. “Describe this girl you saw. Everything you remember.”

So, Kol and Rebekah do. Everything from your appearance, to the sound of your voice, and to the way you walked. The more they described, the more it sounded like the ‘you’ Elijah was with all day. When he admits this, their faces pale.

“There’s no way all three of you idiots have fallen in love with the same girl,” Klaus mutters, still listening despite his annoyance.

“It’s happened before, brother. Remember Mary?”

“I remember, Bekah, but that doesn't mean it’s plausible to happen again.”

“I think it is entirely plausible,” Kol admits, “in fact, I think this goes deeper than it did with Mary.”

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“Something draws me to her. And it’s like I know her, yet I don’t at the same time. Do you guys feel this too, or is it just me?”

“No, I definitely feel it,” Elijah says, “and spending time with her today felt so natural. Like it was something I could never tire of.”

“You three sound so stupid. Talking like this girl, that two of you have never actually met, is your soulmate or something.”

“Well maybe you need to see her, Klaus. You’ll be in love instantly, I promise.”

Klaus rolls his eyes one more time at his youngest brother before going back to his painting. He refuses to admit the curiosity he feels towards you, and instead plays on animosity. His siblings don’t give up, though, and continue talking about their feelings for you until they all part to go to bed.

The following day, Elijah, Kol, and Rebekah actively seek you out in hopes of inviting you to dinner. They spent the morning planning that they’d find you and convince you to come over, where they could all gain your trust and get to know you better. The difficult part of this was getting you alone to talk. Elijah had warned his siblings about what you had said and told them to keep a close eye on their surroundings. He did also mention how excited you were to meet a Mikaelson, though, and said to use this to their advantage if one of them finds you instead of himself.

So, in three different parts of the city, the siblings fan out and keep their eyes peeled for your presence. Shouldn’t be that hard to find; they’ll just follow the pull of their hearts.

◇◇◇◇

For ten minutes, you’re able to sneak away, just long enough to visit your favorite store on the street corner. After meeting Elijah yesterday, the thought of being stuck in your house all day sounds miserable, and you are prepared to risk your friends’ wrath to see him again. Granted, inside the little shop is probably not the place you’d find him, but being out in the open at least makes it seem possible.

You are looking at a row of necklaces when a man comes up beside you. You don’t see his face, yet he doesn’t seem threatening to you, so you’re not too worried.

“That color would look beautiful on you,” he says aloud.

“Me?” You glance around to see if he’s talking to someone else.

“Yes, darling. I mean you.”

You blush instantly. “Thank you.”

“Let me get it for you.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t. It must be expensive!”

“Not a problem for me. I happen to come from a well-off line.”

“Oh do you now?” You turn to face him fully. “And what line would that be?”

He smiles at you, then plucks the necklace from its place and brings it to the counter. Immediately after buying it, he’s fastening it around your neck. “As expected, you look beautiful.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“How could I not? It was made for you.”

“You’re too kind.” You reach your hand out for him to shake, “Y/N L/N.”

Instead of shaking it, he presses a kiss to the back, “Kol Mikaelson.”

He watches your eyes light up, just as Elijah said they would. “Mikaelson?”

“So you’ve heard of me?”

“Heard of you? Definitely.”

“And I heard you met my brother yesterday. God, he would not stop talking about how beautiful you are.”

You blush deeper at the thought of Elijah talking about you to his family. Either that, or it’s because Kol’s still holding your hand gently. You’re not sure.

“Say, Y/N, would it be possible I could invite you to dinner? I would love to get to know you better, and I know Elijah would love to see you again. Bekah, too, has a curiosity.”

“I, um…” you so desperately want to, but fear your friends finding out. “I want to, but I don’t know if I can.”

“If it’s Caroline Forbes you’re worried about, I bet we could fake an alibi.”

“It’s not just Caroline, it’s all of them. But, if we could think of a good enough alibi, I bet I could escape for a little bit.”

“Perfect, I will let my siblings know. This is our address, but if you need one of us to pick you up, my number’s on there, too.” He slips you a piece of paper. “I look forward to seeing you again, darling.”

“I do, too, Kol,” you smile.

With one last kiss to your hand, he disappears from sight.

You show up on the Mikaelsons’ porch at seven in one of your best outfits, playing with your hair nervously after ringing the doorbell. When the door swings open, the girl - Rebekah - is on the other side.

Before you can greet her, she looks you up and down, “wow… you are gorgeous.”

The redness rises back to your cheeks, “thank you.”

“No wonder my brothers are smitten with you.”

“Don’t lie, Rebekah,” Kol’s voice rings through the house, “you know you are too.”

She rolls her eyes, “come inside, dear. We promise we won’t bite.”

You follow her into the house, smiling as you pass the threshold into the mansion. “It’s beautiful in here.”

“Not as beautiful as you, darling.”

You’re starting to pick up on the affectionate nicknames that each gives you. Elijah calls you ‘love’; Kol calls you ‘darling’; and Rebekah just used ‘dear’. It’s one thing that they’ve all called you beautiful, but they all have nicknames for you, too. If they get any more romantic, your heart will flutter right out of your chest.

Just as you think that, they do. Elijah and Kol both kiss your hands as they greet you, making you weak in the knees.

“Thank you for coming, love. I’m glad you could join us.”

“Thank you for inviting me. About that alibi, Kol, I’m gonna need it tomorrow. No doubt I’ll get some kind of spoon-on-head, one-nail-painted-black kind of challenge that I’ll fail, and have to find an excuse for.”

The boy laughs, having been told by Elijah about Caroline’s antics. “We will certainly come up with something. But for now, are you hungry?”

“Yes, actually. And I’m excited to know what you guys eat when you’re not drinking blood,” you joke. The giggle fades out once you see the kitchen table, though. From end to end, it’s covered in dishes. “Holy crap.”

“Only the best for a woman such as yourself,” Kol sends you a wink.

Rebekah pulls a chair out for you. “Stick around, and you’ll find we actually have quite the appetite for more than blood.”

“Oh that was just a joke,” you say, afraid you’ve offended her.

“No worries. I know it was.”

Soon, you’re all seated, except for the head of the table. “Um. Don’t you guys have another brother?”

“Niklaus, yes,” Elijah smiles at you, “he’s painting at the moment, but he should be here shortly. I apologize for his absence.”

“It’s okay! I was just curious.”

Speak of the devil, Klaus enters the room not a minute later. Elijah gestures to you immediately, introducing you. Klaus, still skeptical as to why his siblings are so obsessed with you, has a threat prepared that sits on his tongue. The three wait for it to come out, expecting it, and ready to defend. However, as soon as he looks at you, his mind is wiped of all things foul and offensive.

“Hello, love,” he says instead.

All four of you are caught off guard. The tension in the room was thick; you were expecting an insult, too. Not to mention how Caroline speaks so poorly of the man.

“Hi,” you respond, voice smaller than you’d like, “nice to meet you.”

“You as well.” He sits down with a newfound attitude towards you. “Tell me, how do you like Mystic Falls?”

After you answer his question, the five of you talk for the next two hours, sharing every bit about yourselves. They learn how you’ve lived in Mystic Falls your whole life, and have barely traveled out of the town. You discover they were born in Norway, but were turned in this very town, some thousand years ago. You find common ground in the parents’ department, none of you having the best relationships with your parents, especially your fathers. Though you get a glimpse into the abuse that they all faced from their father, and feel an indescribable rage towards the man you’ve never met. This part of the conversation helps you understand each of them better, including how that fear and anger has made them into one of the most dangerous families - a term they admit describes them well.

“Dangerous,” Rebekah says, “but fiercely protective over those we love.”

“Quite exactly the reason we are so dangerous,” Elijah adds to her statement, “we will do anything to protect whomever we love.”

Hearing the word from their lips makes your body shiver. A thought passes through your head wondering if you’d ever be someone that they’d protect that much. Something deep in your soul tells you that you already are.

After the childhood topic, conversation moves onto lighter subjects. Everyone’s favorite foods, shows, and pastimes are shared. You learn the birth order of the four siblings in front of you, and discover that there’s three others not present. One of them, alive, but so disgusted that they’re vampires that he refuses to associate with them. This, in turn, gets a truth out of you,

“Well you don’t have to worry about me, I think vampires are sexy,” you say before covering your mouth. Too much wine, you suppose. “I mean, I just think they’re cool. There’s a reason the gang tries to keep me in the dark about everything that goes on in the town.”

Eyes go wide, but maybe for the sake of your embarrassed gesture, the topic moves onto the so-called perfect group of miscreants. After, it shifts to your alibi that will be used to explain your disappearance.

“You were bored and went to a restaurant to study. Lost track of time,” Kol tries his best.

“Ran to the store for a much needed grocery trip,” Klaus provides after his brother’s failed idea.

“Or,” Rebekah rolls her eyes, “you just fell asleep.”

“Watching a movie and falling asleep,” Elijah finishes, “so that you have about an hour to be engrossed in the movie, but then you nod off into a deep sleep.”

“I think Caroline would buy that. She always does get after me for not answering immediately.”

“Perfect,” Klaus concedes, “now I would like to know more about what you think makes vampires so sexy,” he says, smirking at you.

You blush for a second, but then can’t help spilling the truths stacked on your tongue.

◇◇◇◇

After that night, you stay in contact with the Mikaelsons, and even visit their mansion for several more dinners. In time, you find yourself getting close with each one. Most nights, Rebekah walks you home, and always kisses your cheek before leaving. Sometimes, too, she’s in your kitchen, making coffee or tea when you wake up. Kol visits you everytime Caroline puts you on “house arrest”, and tries to help you study to the best of his ability. That, or he distracts you completely, begging you to watch a movie with him instead. You almost always give into him. Elijah keeps up his charms of kind words and gentle touches. The moment he learns what your favorite flower is, he brings you one every time he sees you.

Between the siblings, Klaus is the least trusting and the last to give into his desire to know you. Though the more he sees you with the others, the more jealous he becomes, and eventually, he cracks. His first gesture towards you is a painting of you standing in the Mikaelsons’ ballroom. He says he could picture you dancing in it, someday, in a beautiful dress made tailored just for you. After that, he’s now just as smitten as his siblings.

You love being with all of them, separately and together. One thing though - you find your heart being torn in four different ways, and it scares you. You can’t break one of their hearts, nor do you want to, but there’s no way you could be with all of them. Look how that went for Elena and the Salvatores.

Oh, and speaking of Elena… you still haven’t even told your friends that you’re even hanging out with the Mikaelsons, much less that you’re in love with them. You feel bad keeping secrets from them, but you know how they’ll react if they find out. Even if you can prove the family has been nothing but kind, they’ll be overprotective and most likely try to ban you from seeing them entirely.

“Maybe I can just tell one of them,” you wonder out loud one night. Tonight was easy to get out of your house; everyone went to the grill to drink and you played the ‘too tired’ card. Little did they know what you were actually going back to the family’s mansion.

“Who would you start with?” Rebekah asks from behind as she plays with your hair.

“Caroline, maybe? I’m closest to her. But with Elena, I could use the excuse that she’s dating a vampire who’s almost just as dangerous.”

Klaus scoffs playfully, “almost as? Love, he doesn’t come close.”

“Well I know that, but some people think he’s pretty dangerous.”

“Oh he certainly is. But when it comes down to it, my family will always come out on top.”

You remember the conversation from your first night meeting them. How you wondered if you’d ever be one they’d fight to the death to protect. Klaus answers this for you now. “Like we said before, we protect those we love. That includes you, little one.”

Your eyes snap up to him. “Me?”

“Isn’t it obvious? We open our home to you; share our deepest and darkest secrets. We don’t do that with just anyone. There’s something different about you.”

“He’s right,” Kol comes beside you on the couch to sit down, “you’re one of us now.”

Elijah clears his throat, a little worried the two will scare you away, “if you’re comfortable with that, of course. Do not feel pressured in any way. We will not be upset.”

As he’s talking, you reach your hands out for Kol to lean against you. The youngest boy does, putting his head on your shoulder, while you wrap your arms around his neck. “Pressure? No, I don’t feel pressured. I love hanging out with you guys. I love-” you pause, blinking. You’re not sure what to say.

“Y/N?” Elijah starts.

“I’m… I don’t know… I’m confused, and I feel awful for it, but I… I don’t even know what to say.”

“What’s wrong, girlie?” Rebekah kisses the top of your head gently. The boys focus their attention on you fully. “I promise, whatever you say, you don’t have to feel awful.”

“Bekah’s right, you can tell us anything.”

“I just… I love you guys. I love being with you all as a family, but then, I don’t know, I love you all separately, too.” They say nothing, so you continue. “And it’s not just a friendly thing, either. It’s like blushing, butterflies in the stomach, wanting to be with you kind of love. Which would be okay if I fell for only one of you - well, actually, it wouldn’t, because then I’d hurt the rest of you - but it’s not just one. I love all of you like that.”

Elijah’s first to speak. “Why do you think that would be wrong?”

“What?”

“Why is that a bad thing to you?”

You stare at him, “I can’t have a thing with four different siblings. That’s crazy, right?”

You can’t see her face, but Rebekah’s smiling wide. “Are there any rules when it comes to love?”

And before you can answer her, Klaus follows up, “crazy pretty much defines this family, I don’t know what you’re worried about.”

“Hold on,” you put up a finger, even more confused, but now for a different reason. “You are all okay with this?”

“We may have had a talk,” Elijah says, sitting down, “the night after you first came here. You see, we’ve all shared lovers before, so this is nothing new to us. However, usually they rotate. Start with Klaus, move onto Kol, have a fling with Bekah, start something with me, and then they go. But, as you’ve heard us say plenty a time, you’re much different.”

You nod, “so what was the talk?”

“Well, dear Y/N, none of us can quite keep our feelings about you to ourselves. Nor do we ever think we could tire of loving you.” Elijah’s slow and cryptic talk is making you antsy. Apparently, it’s frustrating Kol, too.

“Do you believe in soulmates, darling?”

“Soulmates? Um, ish? I mean, Caroline and I used to entertain the idea as kids.”

“Would it be absolutely crazy to entertain the possibility that you’ve met yours? And perhaps it to be in the form of four siblings to whom you’ve just admitted your love?”

“I-” slowly, it hits you. His words sink into your head and your heart at the same time. A fire burns, heating your palms, reddening your cheeks.

“Because polyamory was a thing with the Ancient Greeks, though it’s not too common anymore. But then again, here you have four siblings who love you just as dearly. In that same ‘butterflies and a warm feeling’ that you described.”

“I, um…”

“If you had let me explain it, you wouldn’t have scared her,” Elijah chides his brother.

“You were taking too long. I’ve been waiting a thousand years to tell this girl I love her.”

Hearing the three words finally broke the dam. Whatever fear you did have melts away instantly. “It’s okay,” you mutter. “It’s clear to me now. I do love you. All of you. As crazy as it sounds, I can’t deny my feelings; I don’t want to. I love you.”

Immediately, Kol spins around so he can kiss you properly. You kiss him back, relaxing into his hands which hold onto your face. As soon as he breaks it off, Rebekah mutters that he needs to move, and then she kisses you, too.

“I just have one question,” you pant, out of breath from the excitement.

“And what is that?”

“How do I know this isn’t going to end terribly, like how Stefan and Elena’s relationship did ever since she fell in love with his brother?”

“Because,” Klaus zips across the room to put less distance between you two, “we all love you and are quite capable of sharing. We’ve lived thousands of years together, and have been looking for you for thousands more.”

“Besides, there’s this cool thing called communication that we do that the Salvatores like to ignore. Take it from someone who’s slept with both,” Rebekah adds.

You crinkle your nose at the information, “no more sleeping with Salvatores.” You pull her back in for another kiss, “you’re mine now.”

When you let go of Bex, Klaus steals his turn, and then Elijah. It’s a little overwhelming, but your worries are overpowered by how much love you feel from them, and by how much you want to give them in return.

After you all settle down, you let out a giggle. “I had nearly given up on the idea of finding my soulmate. Little did I know I’d be so lucky to have four.”

“Not as lucky as us,” Elijah claims the last word, “to have found our girl after thousands of years of searching.”

#poly!mikaelsons #mikaelson siblings #mikaelsons x reader #tvd fanfiction #requested #i hope this is okay!

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hvnnibvni · 1 year

Text

Together Again | JJK *part 1*

Pairings: Jungkook/Reader

Genre: Mature themes. Romance. Angst. Arranged marriage AU. Childhood best friends to lovers AU.

Warnings: cheating, reader is a rope bunny (ALLEGEDLY), hard!dom JK, switch!reader, reader likes to be slutted out, drunken sex, unplanned pregnancy(this is in the end dw😅), cunnilingus, oral (both receiving), fighting (talk shit get hit) daddy!kink, praise!kink, dirty talk, spanking, hair pulling. Just all around nasty y’all.

Summary: After reader finds her long-term boyfriend in bed with their mutual friend. She moves back into her family home, but under one condition. She has to marry her childhood friend that has been arranged since their childhood. For a wedding gift they go to a mountainous getaway with a group of friends, reader is told that ex and mutual friend get invited, so reader and jk decide to pretend not to know each other to avoid any confusion or miscommunication.

Authors note: Hi! Sorry it’s so late but here it is. I hope you guys enjoy. I’m making this into a series. I feel like it’s a little unprofessional not to have a masterlist but I’m working on that too. Just bare with me please in new to this lol. Also feel free to ask me any questions, or express your honest opinions Im all ears good or bad. Should I make a tag list?

——————————————————————

‘How the fuck did I get here’

You thought as you sat in you car, filled with you things. You had just left the home YOU bought after catching your boyfriend Yunwoo cheating one you.. With your supposedly best friend. Sitting there thinking, you should’ve saw the signs. They were there right in front of your face. You felt like a fool. Luckily you’ve always kept a cool head, or else you would’ve done something you’d regret. You honestly wished you did. You wanted them to hurt just as much as they hurt you, but you knew if wouldn’t change anything so why stress yourself out about it. But silence is the best way to get under someone’s skin isn’t it. No matter how much he cried and apologized. You didn’t turn back, you’ll never go back to him. That a promise you made to yourself on you journey back home.

Earlier that day:

“Hey y/n what can I get you” the barista, you’ve gotten to know over the years asks, “Let me have my usual please Janine, oh! And can you serve it really hot please, thank you.” You were making you your normal daily rounds that day, which normally started out with a hot coffee at your favorite cafe when you realized you forgot you wallet back at the house. “Ah actually scratch that. I seem to have left my wallet at home.” You say, making the sudden realization. “You know what don’t walruses about it it’s on the house,” Janine says with a smile. “That you so much I appreciate the generosity, but I have to go back home anyway. I’ll come back and pay for the coffee.” You just couldn’t shake this strange feeling telling you to go back home. Your boyfriend of 5 years seemed was acting strange this morning. Being overly sweet all of a sudden, waking you up, making you breakfast. It just seemed like he was trying to get you out of the house.

when you pull into the driveway you see his car still out front, but you didn’t find that as strange as you best friend, Cristal car along side his. “Strange,” you say to yourself as you pull into the driveway. She never texted that she was coming over, but you check you phone to be safe. But you still can’t shake the uneasy feeling you have in your gut that something fishy is going on inside your home without you knowing. The calm rational you is telling you to just walk in your home as if it’s nothing, but the bad bitch part of you is telling you to unlock your fence and sneak in though the back door. So that’s just what you do. As you’re sneaking inside your house you notice clothes spread all across you living room floor training up the stairs to your bedroom. “Oh hell nah I know these motherfuckers ain’t- okay.” You whisper to yourself as you tiptoe up the stairs.

As you reach your bedroom you hear the faint sound of laughter behind the door. You decide to listen in on the conversation before letting your presence known. “Why don’t you just leave her already. She can’t make you happy the way I do.” You hear Cristal say. “I’m just waiting for the right time Cristal you know how she can be. She so clingy, she acts like she can’t live without me,” Yunwoo explains to Cristal. You scoff to yourself as head this. “Mmcht yeah right like this isn’t my house you’re freeloading it.” You number to yourself as you lean in closer to get a better listen. No one knew that you were he one that made all the money between you two. Yunwoo didn’t have a job and was too embarrée to move back in with his parents after he dropped out of college. So you bought this home for the both of you to stay in. You on the other hand were and heiress to one of the most biggest, prestigious designing companies in the world. In other words you’re the 1 percent of the q percent. But you’ve always kept it a secret, because it is taboo to mention your wealth in front of other people who are less fortunate.

“well I just don’t see how it’s right to keep pretending and leading her on like this. Im starting to get annoyed just looking at her. She’s so pathetic.” At this point you e already opened the door. They look at you in shock to see you home this early. “Y/n-“ you hold up your hand. Not trying to hear a single word coming out of yunwoo’s mouth, already disgusted. You don’t speak of give them the time of day. Of course you have lots to say, say you listened to their conversation you realized that these people were below you. These people betrayed your trust, and defiled your home. They’re worth less than the dirt on a dog’s paw. And what do you look like speaking to those who aren’t even worthy enough to lick the dirt off of your dogs feet? “Y/n please let’s talk about this like adults.” Yunwoo pleads. All you can do is scoff ass you go around the room and gather your things.

“Yunwoo baby just let her go. You don’t need something like that anyways. She’s not worth the time,” Cristal says picking through her nails. “You know what Cristal you’re right. I don’t need this. I deserve better and y/n baby you can’t give that to me. I’m on to better things in life. While you’re going to be stuck a sad, lonely, bitter, insignificant, bitch no one can stand. So go on. Leave.” Yunwoo, who has more than audacity says to you. You, the classy person you are smile at him, gather your clothes, jewelry, and dog walk away. Leaving everything behind.

#bts jk #bts ff #btsedit #jung hoseok #kim najoon #kim soekjin #kim taehyung #park jimjn #bts army #jungkook x reader #cheating au #childhood friends au #jungkook fanfic #fanfic #friends to lovers #bts au #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut

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ereardon · 2 years

Text

You Again [Hangman x Reader]

Summary: It’s been five years since you last saw your childhood best friend and first love Jake Seresin. But fate, or coincidence, has you back in Jake’s life and he’s desperate not to lose you again.

WC: 4K+

Warning: Pining, alcohol, cursing

Miniseries masterlist; part 2 here; part 3 here

The last person you expected to see that night was Jake Seresin.

Just off the back of a 24-hour shift, you plopped down on a bar stool and ordered a burger and a beer, not caring that it was eleven o’clock or that the crowd was filled with ruckus Navy men proudly puffing their chests in their almost-too-tight uniforms. You rolled your eyes as not one, not two, but three separate men hit on you using opening lines around how much they like a woman who eats.

The final one, a tall redhead who smelled of jet fuel and desperation, loomed so close to you that he was nearly touching the food before it entered your mouth.

“Wow, gotta say, I love a girl who really eats.”

You rolled your eyes. “And what, do all of the twits that you date survive off of photosynthesis alone?”

A barking laugh came from behind your left shoulder and you saw the ginger visibly stiffen.

“Lieutenant Seresin,” the ginger said, standing straighter before rushing off, and the name alone nearly left you gasping for breath.

Jake.

A tanned arm came down on the bar to your left and before you could even see him you heard his voice. “Witty. About time a girl like you came around.”

You turned to see him in all of his glory. Green flight suit unzipped just enough to show off his tanned, glistening chest, dog tags swinging from his impossibly taunt neck. His mouth turned up in a brilliant smile that immediately faltered when he realized who you were.

“Y/N,” he breathed.

You set the burger down and wiped your fingers with a napkin. “Hangman.” He winced at your use of his call sign. “Been a long time.”

“Five years,” he said, without missing a beat. He looked you up and down, not in a leering way but like he genuinely was trying to memorize every change in your body that had happened since the night he left. You wondered if you looked different when he wasn’t looking at you in the rearview mirror. “You look good.”

You crossed your legs, suddenly feeling silly for still wearing scrubs at a Navy bar but you had been too tired and too hungry to change after the shift change started. “I’d say you too, but any ego boost might just make you combust and I heard the Navy doesn’t like it when they waste money on performative assholes.” It came out sharper than you anticipated, but he chuckled.

“It’s nice to see you, too,” he said softly. In that moment it was Jake, not Hangman speaking. Jake, the boy who had been riding shotgun the day you got your driver's license and subsequently crashed into a neighbor’s mailbox. Jake, who had taught your little sister how to fish. Jake, who had held your hand the day they buried your mother. Jake, who had walked out of your life five years before with no regard for how you felt. Jake, who’s name you cursed at night when you couldn’t sleep. It had always been Jake. Until it wasn’t.

“I’d say the same, but I have a date with this burger, so if you wouldn’t mind leaving us alone that’d be great.”

He inched closer until his lips were brushing the hair behind your ear. “Y/N, don’t be like this. Can we talk?”

You frowned and your hands shook as you lifted the burger again and took a wide bite. He pulled back to look at you and you took your sweet time chewing and taking a swig of beer to wash it down. Finally, “Nothing to talk about, Hangman. I’m sure your friends over there are wondering where you’ve gone off to, and I have a shower at home calling my name.”

His face, those beautiful Adonis-like features, drooped. “Bunny.” The pet name stung rolling off of his lips.

You held up a hand. “Don’t even. You lost the right to call me that a long time ago.”

He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He paused. And then, “It’s good to see you, Y/N.”

Jake gave you his best puppy eyes, and it took everything you had to turn away. “See you later, Jake.”

He hesitated, and just as you thought he was going to leave you felt his lips press softly to your cheek. “Proud of you, baby,” he whispered, pinching the fabric of your scrub top on the upper arm where you had it layered over a tight white long-sleeve shirt. He smelled the same and even though the bar was crowded and reeked of stale fries and spilled beer you could still identify every note of him within seconds. You hated it, but his proximity, his smell, flooded every nerve ending in your body. And a part of you wanted nothing more than to reach up and press your lips to his before he could pull away. Taste him to see if he still tasted the same as when you were sixteen and drinking his dad’s beer on the roof. If he tasted the same as the adrenaline rush from the first time you two went skinny dipping in the creek. If he still tasted like the dirty vodka martinis you would drink in college while visiting him on break, pretending to be adults but still very much two sheltered kids with no real world experience.

And then he was gone, back to his group near the corner of the room. You saw a few of the other aviators look at you for a second too long as Hangman made his reappearance. One, a dark-haired woman, sized you up for so long you got goosebumps before finally turning away.

“I see you’ve met Hangman.” The woman behind the bar set a fresh beer down in front of you.

You sighed. “Yes, I have.”

She gave him a long look before turning back to you. “He’s not as bad as you think.”

You shook your head. “He’s not. And that’s the problem.”

The bartender flicked her eyes over you and then back to Jake. “I’m Penny, by the way” she said, taking your credit card from where you had laid it on the wood bar. “Let me close you out.”

You smiled and told her your name, and she disappeared with your card and a knowing smile. You sighed, pushing away the plate of food and guzzling down the second beer.

Just your luck. You had vaguely kept track of where Jake was stationed all these years. Your grandmother had mentioned he was at Top Gun out on North Island, but it hadn’t clicked until you heard his sweet Texas accent creeping into every single one of your pores earlier that night. Of course out of all the hospitals you landed a residency at UCSD, not ten miles from Jake.

The air was warm but not swampy as you expected. The headlights on your car sprung to life, and you were just about to open the door when you heard him.

“BUNNY!”

Closing your eyes briefly, you turned to see what mess Jake had made. He stumbled out of the bar, giddy with liquor, followed by a cohort of aviators in matching jumpsuits.

“Hangman,” you said sharply. “Go home. You’re drunk and smell like shit.”

A few of the aviators in the back hollered and you watched Jake’s dopey smile tilt. “Hey, that’s not very nice, baby.” “I’m not your baby and I’m not your Bunny,” you replied as the group edged closer. “Not anymore.”

The raven haired female from earlier had her hand on Jake, holding him upright. “I’m sorry about him, I don’t know what happened. We looked away for a minute.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. That’s his problem, not yours.”

Jake lurched forward and the brunette pulled him back, with the help of a handsome, bespeckled aviator. “Come on, Y/N, just one drink.”

You laughed. “I think you’ve had enough drinks to get the whole Navy drunk, all by yourself.”

“I’m Phoenix,” the brunette said and you nodded.

“Y/N.”

“I gathered.” She looked down at Jake who was still being supported by Phoenix and the guy with glasses. “That’s Bob,” she nodded toward glasses. “Fanboy, Payback, Coyote, Rooster.”

“Hey guys,” you said. “Do you need help with him, or what?”

“He got up and started running out the door when he saw you leave,” Rooster said. “We were worried he’d knock himself out trying to get to you, so thought it would be best if he got escorted out.”

You sighed and ran your hand through the front pieces of your hair. “Listen, Jake,” you whispered and he perked up hearing his name falling out of your mouth. “It’s been a long night, OK? For both of us. Just go home. Please”

“Not before we talk,” he slurred, leaning forward and slipping past Phoenix and Bob. You stepped forward and caught him, stumbling a bit at his weight. He towered over you by at least eight inches, and he smelled like the bottom of a barrel.

“You need to shower and sleep,” you said and you felt his hands, those familiar hands, melt into your back. Your fingers pressed tightly against his rock hard abdomen. “Doctor’s orders.”

He chuckled lightly and you pressed him away from you until he was standing unsupported, Bob and Rooster hovering behind him in case he fell. “Doctor. You fucking did it.”

You nodded with a small blush on your cheeks. “So did you.” He looked down at his olive jumpsuit as if seeing it for the first time.

“I fucking did,” he bellowed and the group gave a laugh.

“Night, guys,” you said, unlocking the door again. “Goodnight, Hangman.”

“Don’t go,” he begged. You sighed again. You knew Jake. He wouldn’t give up. You could see it in Rooster’s eyes too. They all knew Jake got what he wanted, one way or another.

“Does anyone know where he lives?” you asked.

Bob nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I can send it to you if you’d like.”

You took the phone that he offered and typed in your number, and a moment later a text popped up with a dropped pin.

“Alright, let’s get you home Hangman,” you said as Bob and Rooster guided Jake to the passenger side of your car and tucked him into the seat. The group hovered around while Jake immediately lolled his head against the window. “Thanks, guys. Appreciate it.”

“Not to pry,” Phoenix said, but that was indeed what she was doing and she knew it. “But how do you know Bagman?”

You grimaced. “It’s a long story.”

“We got time,” Rooster said, crossing his arms over his chest. For the first time you noticed he was the only one out of uniform, in a pair of low strung jeans and a God awful Hawaiian shirt open a little too far for your taste.

You laughed. “Let’s just say we’ve known each other since we were kids. He’s just Jake to me. This,” you swept your arm toward the car where he was passed out, “is a new asshole that I am not so familiar with.”

“Have to say, we’ve never seen him act like this before,” Phoenix said, giving Jake a look that for a second almost had tenderness running through it. And in a moment it was gone. “You two must have some serious history.”

Your hand was on the door handle to the car. “That’s one way to say it. Goodnight.”

There was a chorus of goodbyes as you ducked into the driver’s seat and started the car, a new BMW 5 series convertible you bought yourself as a reward for finishing your intern year. Once the match came through for the residency at UC you immediately started to daydream about flying down the PCH in a little white convertible. It was only a few days old, but now it would be forever tainted with the knowledge that Jake Seresin was the first person to sit in the passenger seat.

“Mmm,” he muttered and you shushed him before tapping on the GPS coordinates Bob had sent you. It was only a ten minute drive, but you took the roads slow, fearing Jake would get sick in his drunken stupor and even further christen your brand new car.

You pulled up to the house, a small white rambler with perfectly mowed grass, and cut the engine. It was a sweet little house, and you wondered briefly if he lived alone. Or if you’d find a girlfriend, angry, red in the face, on the other side of the door.

“Come on big boy,” you said quietly, pulling open the door and nudging Jake awake. You had to tug on his arm to get him to stand, and when you dug your hand into his pocket for his keys he reached up and grabbed your chin with his hand.

“Looking for something?” he asked seductively.

“Shut up,” you grunted, pushing his palm away and fussing with the keyring. The first two didn’t fit, but the third slid easily into the chamber and you turned the lock with bated breath, waiting for an alarm or a girlfriend to scream at you.

Instead you were met with silence. It was obvious he lived alone. No second set of shoes at the door, no framed photos of him with women besides his mother and sisters. A fresh aroma flooded your senses, and you dragged Jake in by his collar. He stumbled in and you slammed the door, peering around to get your bearings. It was small, but quaint and neat, everything you expected from Jake. Even as kids he always made his bed, corners tucked, and his bathroom had been neater than yours. And later, in college, when you had lived off of instant coffee and ramen, organic chemistry books lined your shelves alongside tubes of dried mascara and half-drunk bottles of vodka in a mess that made his mind boggle. Jake had stepped into your junior year dorm with eyes wide at the disarray. Your visit to see him in Annapolis cleared up why: his sheets were pristine, his shoes lined up perfectly against the wall, his uniforms hung crisp in a closet that, unlike yours, did not have anything crumbled at the bottom in heaps so large they obstructured the hanging items.

You wandered down the hall, Jake at your heels, and found yourself in a kitchen with a round table in the middle. Jake immediately sat down, scraping a wooden chair back so he could collapse into it. You found two glasses and poured water into them, sliding one toward him. “Drink.”

He groaned and reached out for the cup. Just beyond the kitchen you saw a small hallway with a door ajar. When you pushed past it you saw Jake’s room, neat as always.

Back in the kitchen, Jake was more alert than in the car. He had one leg crossed over his opposite knee, and was trying fruitlessly to undo the tightly tied laces. You knelt down and pushed his hands away, deftly undoing the boot and pulling it off his large foot. The other shoe came off and you pulled him to standing.

“Alright, bud, time for bed.”

Jake reached out, both hands coming to the sides of your face. “Fuck, I missed you.”

“Not tonight, Jake,” you whispered. “Come on.”

To his credit, he followed you dutily to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. You sighed and stood in front of him, carefully unzipping his flight suit down his chest, sliding it off of his shoulders to reveal his undershirt that you peeled off. Once the suit was down to his waist you bent over and tugged it from around him until it was down his legs.

Jake sat in only a pair of dark boxers and socks on the bed, looking up at you. He looked better than before. Muscles rippling under glowy, tanned skin. Like an Abercrombie & Fitch model that you would have thirsted after in middle school. But he was still Jake and no matter how badly you wanted to smooth your hands over his skin, kiss a trail from his neck to where his boxers skimmed his hip bones, you didn’t. You knew the trouble that would lead to.

“I would say shower, but you don’t seem up for it.”

He shook his head. “Not tonight,” he echoed your words back to you. His hands reached up to grip your waist as you stood in front of him, and a chill ran down your spine. How could you feel him this plainly even with two layers of fabric between you?

“You’re here.” There was a thread of disbelief in his voice. Almost a stutter.

“It’s time for bed,” you said, peeling his hands off of you and forcing down the covers from their tight tuck near the pillows. “Come on, get in.”

Jake crawled under the covers and rolled onto his left side. You went to walk away, and he reached out to grab your wrist. “Thank you.”

It was uncharacteristic of Jake. He wasn’t a thank you or a please kind of guy. He knew what he wanted and he knew how to get it. But sometimes you saw the glimmer of the little boy he had been. It made your heart pang for someone you lost. Someone you had long ago convinced yourself no longer existed.

Instead, you brushed your hand over his hair and cheek and watched him melt into the bed. The clock on his nightstand said it was nearly two in the morning. You had been awake for almost thirty-six hours at that point, and the idea of driving back to your condo sounded like a nightmare. In Jake’s walk-in closet, you pulled out a large Naval Academy t-shirt and slipped it on. It hung to your knees, covering everything it needed to, and you stopped searching for a pair of bottoms. Tip toeing past him to the bathroom in the hall, you brushed your hair back into a sloppy bun and wiped away the mascara that had accumulated under your tired eyes.

By the time you exited the bathroom, you could hear Jake’s soft snores. In the kitchen, you emptied both cups of water and left them in the spotless sink. The living room was small but cozy, with a three-seater couch and a throw blanket slung over the back. A real fireplace against the far wall held a mantle littered with photos, and despite the tug of sleep against your eyes you wandered over to them. Several of Jake as a child at his grandparents’ ranch outside Austin. One of the full Seresin family smiling in matching Christmas sweaters. A photo of Jake and his mother Pearl smiling wide at his commencement ceremony from the Naval Academy. Your fingers aimlessly picked at the hem of the shirt you were wearing. Just as you were about to turn away, finally lie down, you spotted it. Slotted behind a few other frames so it was just barely visible, there was the photo of the two of you taken at the beach, spring break of your senior year of college. Jake’s parents had invited you two down to Kiawah Island to stay at their beach house, but at the last minute they had to stay back in Austin for work so it had just been the two of you all alone in the big house by yourselves. It was the first time you felt like a real couple, playing house for days on end. Waking up to the smell of fried eggs and bacon and Jake pulling you out of slumber by pressing his thumbs into the arches of your foot. Driving over the bridge to the nearby Harris Teeter for groceries and playfully swatting at him to drop two kinds of sugar cereal in favor of just one as a treat. How the sun had beat down on you until you felt like your skin would melt, and you’d go inside and mix together margaritas for the two of you to drink on the deck, your feet swinging in the pool. Those six days had felt like an eternity. Jake drove you out to the north end of the island that last night for drinks and dinner at The Beach Club. As the sun dipped below the watery lip of the horizon, you told him you had been accepted into medical school in Boston. You watched as his face crumpled, even as he tried to hide it. It meant another four years apart. He took your hands in his and smiled and ordered a celebratory dessert. Told you how proud he was.

Two months later, it all fell apart.

In the photo, Jake has his arms wrapped around you from behind and your head is tipped back to smile at him. The sun is glowing on your cheeks, the water behind you sparkling, the sand white and soft and if you closed your eyes you could almost feel it between your toes.

He has no idea, but you have the same photo framed. It’s the first item you unpack in every new apartment. It’s the last time you can remember being truly happy without a scalpel in your hand or without the beat of a heart thundering through a stethoscope into your ear.

The light streaming in on your face was worse than any beeper wakeup. You tried to roll over to stop the beam from landing right across your eyes, but the couch was too damn small and you ended up rolling off the side onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck!”

You were still on the ground when you heard footsteps and when you looked up there was Jake wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight shirt standing above you with the demonic rays of sun illuminating him from behind like an angel. “Come on, you klutz,” he said, holding out a hand. You flung it toward him and he pulled you up effortlessly.

It wasn’t fair that he looked perfect after drinking the entire bar under the table the night before. His hair was perfectly tousled and he smelled clean, like he had showered. Judging by the smell from the kitchen, he had made coffee too. You followed him wordlessly into the kitchen and slumped into the chair he had vacated only a few hours before as he slid a blue mug of coffee toward you, already topped with milk, exactly how you liked it. “Drink,” he said, smirking at the irony. You took a sip of the steaming coffee and sighed.

Jake sat down across from you at the small wooden table.

“Have to admit I’m surprised to see you stayed,” he said. “And also I’m sorry for being the world’s biggest ass last night.”

You smiled into the coffee cup. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was too damn tired to drive home. I can sleep anywhere after intern year. A couch is a hell of a lot better than some of the chairs I’ve fallen asleep in. Or worse, patient gurneys.”

He laughed and it rang out into the quiet house.

“Besides, I thought there was a high chance you’d choke on your own vomit and I don't want my medical license revoked for manslaughter.”

Jake put his hand over his heart. “I’m touched you think so highly of me.”

You shot him a glare and went back to sipping the coffee, crossing one leg over the other. It wasn’t until Jake’s eye line focused on your bare thigh that you realized how little clothes you were really wearing.

“I should get going,” you said, standing up and dumping out the rest of the coffee in the sink and rinsing the cup.

Jake rose from the table. “Let me drive you home.”

“I drove you here last night?” you said and that dawned on him slowly. He smacked a palm to his forehead.

“Shit,” he whispered.

“What?”

“My truck,” he sighed. “It’s still at the Hard Deck.”

You shook your head. “I asked Bob last night to bring it by.” Walking over to the window, you peered out across the driveway and saw Jake’s cherished black Wrangler sitting in the driveway. A short text on your phone from Bob confirmed the key was under the front mat.

“You always knew exactly what to do. I missed that about you.” He paused. “I miss everything about you.” You turned around quickly before he could cross the room and do something you’d both regret.

“Jake.” It came out in a plea. “Let’s not do this, OK? Not again. Last night was a coincidence.”

“Or fate.”

“It was a coincidence,” you repeated, starting down the hall to his room where you had left your scrubs. Jake watched in silence from the door frame as you pulled on your pants underneath the baggy t-shirt, scooping up the discarded scrub top and long sleeve shirt into your arms and breezing past him. “Let’s just pretend you never saw me.”

“That’s impossible,” he said, following you as you picked up your purse from where you had laid it near the coffee table. “Y/N.” His fingers reached out and brushed your arm and you were shocked that the electricity was still there.

“Jake.” He knew from your tone. His hand dropped and he watched as you took a step toward the front door. You opened the door and bent down, retrieving the Jeep key from under the mat and tossing it to him. He caught it in one hand. “I’ll drop your shirt off later.”

“Keep it.” Jake pressed both hands to either side of the open door frame, the bright light of the early sun blinding him a little. Beyond, he could see you rushing down the steps.

You paused before you got in your car. It felt like no time had passed since that day you watched him drive away. The same truck that had faded off into the Texas sun all those years ago sat fifteen feet away, and it felt like you were losing him all over again. The lump in your throat was back.

“Bunny.” His voice cracked on the nickname. He looked miserable, standing there on the doorstep. But this time you were leaving him behind. Maybe this time he would know what it was like to watch the person he loved leave without a care in the world. Except you did care. You just didn’t want to.

“Goodbye, Jake.”

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Read part 2 here and part 3 here

#top gun maverick imagine #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin #hangman top gun #hangman fanfiction #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x you #jake hangman imagine #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction

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teenytinyjimin · 1 month

Text

seventh heaven (k. taehyung & p. jimin)

minors dni. DO NOT INTERACT!

summary: in which taehyung and reader just want to have a little fun with their baby jimin

pairing: taehyung x reader x jimin

word count: 3.5k words

tags: smut, threesome (m/m/f), praise, dom!taehyung, switch!reader, sub!jimin, breeding kink sorta?, edging sorta?, hickeys, fellatio, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, feminine!jimin (let him be a lil girly if he wants), taehyung being good at aftercare, also a lot of consent, consent is important yall

warnings: …smut. no other warnings. i’m not a huge degradation/danger/trauma girlie so no need to worry about that

author’s note: thank u guys sm for the support recently i rly appreciate it <3 also i’m not a huge smut writer but i’m trying to work on writing more of it so pls be gentle with me, this is the first official smut work i’ve literally ever completed (i usually always stop midway through lol)

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Your relationship with Taehyung was nothing short of a dream from the moment it began.

When it came to you and him, everything was perfect. Sure, you had your typical couple arguments every once in a while, but that's what makes a relationship perfectly imperfect. You still go on dates like you did when you first started seeing each other, the flame is still very much alive, and you've built a lot of trust and communication.

So much so that you guys had agreed to open up the relationship not too long ago. Not in the sense that you guys have the freedom to see other people individually (you guys are entirely devoted to one another anyway), but in the sense that if the opportunity to spend the night with a third person arises, you'll both be open for it. You personally found it rather exciting, whereas Taehyung enjoyed seeing your enjoyment. That isn't to say he didn't enjoy it as well, but his priority is, and always will be, your happiness.

Unbeknownst to you, however, Taehyung had a secret weapon. One that he was admittedly a little nervous to use, but knew he had it in his back pocket if he ever wanted it. And that weapon was Park Jimin. His best friend since forever and the boy who secretly had a little crush on you.

It's not like Jimin straight-up told Taehyung that he was crazy for his girlfriend. He wouldn't do something like that knowing it could possibly jeopardize the relationship in question. But Taehyung knew by the way he acted around you and looked at you versus how he acted when you weren't around.

Jimin was a natural flirt, there was no question about that. Just because he loved flirting didn't mean that he wanted to get with someone though. And the one person he seems to never be able to flirt with, the one person he did want to get with, is you. He gets way too shy at the sight of you and he almost feels intimidated by your presence. Everyone has their weaknesses, and his seemed to be you.

The only reason Taehyung hasn't played his Jimin card yet is because he's concerned about their friendship. He doesn't really mind the idea of a threesome with his friend, it's just the fear that it'll change their friendship for the worse instead of for the better. He doesn't want to go through with something like this only for the relationship between them to crumble. We're talking about a friendship that has lasted for years and that has never even come close to dangerous waters. But whether he liked to admit it or not, Taehyung was a people pleaser, and something in the pit of his stomach really urged him to just go for it and see what happens.

And so he decided to go for it. Slowly and with caution, though. If at any time either of you decided to jump ship, he wasn't going to force it. All he wanted to do was see what would happen if you were posed with the opportunity.

So now, here you sat, the three of you cuddled up on your living room couch, a movie playing on the television. Platonic intimacy wasn't abnormal for you guys when it came to Jimin – he tended to be a touchy person around the people he cares about and it has nothing to do with romance or sex. You currently had your head in his lap and he had an arm draped around you, with his own head resting on Taehyung's shoulder. At the moment he seemed completely calm and collected, however neither you nor your boyfriend knew that his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest, simply because of you.

“Mm,” you suddenly hummed after an eternity of silence, causing Jimin’s eyes to nearly pop out of their sockets. Having your head close to such valuable parts was one thing, but to make noise that caused the whole area to vibrate was something otherworldly. With all of his might, the poor boy was trying to ignore what just happened for the sake of you not realizing that there was currently a growing hardness under your head. Biting his lip and gently pinching his arm, he attempted to focus on the movie on the television as a way to distract himself from the situation.

Alas, you didn’t shut up to his dismay. However, you did move, which was nothing short of a miracle to him. You lifted your head up from your lap to look over at your boyfriend, a pout on your face. “Love, this is boring,” you whined. Being laid down with your head craned upwards wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable thing in the world so you took a hand and rested it on Jimin’s thigh so that you were propped up with a little bit of support. While your hand held a little bit of weight to it considering the fact that it was helping you stay up, the fact that you once again were extremely close to his crotch nearly sent him to an early grave. His breath hitched ever so slightly and he closed his eyes, trying to shut out everything around him.

“Sorry, Angel,” Taehyung crossed his arms and frowned. “Couldn’t find anything else that was good.” While he looked as if he was entirely focused on you and your upset, he was well aware of the pain you were causing his friend. If his weird behaviors weren’t enough to convince him that he was struggling underneath you, Taehyung’s prior knowledge of Jimin’s attractive definitely was. Just your existence alone was enough to cause the man to be absolutely weak in the knees.

“Pfft,” You rolled your eyes, flopping your head back into Jimin’s lap. “You’re lame for that, Tae. Jimin wouldn’t treat me like that. He’d find something better to watch or do,” You looked up at the boy, who was doing everything he could to avoid eye contact. “Isn’t that right Minnie?”

Heart stopping at the sound of you speaking to him, Jimin shrugged and squeaked out a quick ‘yeah’, not wanting to further the conversation. Had he not known any better, he would’ve thought you were flirting with him and trying to suggest something. But you were in a relationship, that wasn’t possible.

“Well, don’t let me stop you then,” Taehyung looked at both you and Jimin with a smirk on his face as if he were challenging you with your own words. If he knew one thing about you, it was that you didn’t like being challenged and you would prove him wrong in any way possible in an attempt to piss him off. But you knew exactly where he was going with this. He wanted you to prove him wrong for his enjoyment as well as your own.

Reaching one of your arms upward, you gently wrapped your hand around the back of Jimin’s head and guided it down toward yours. When his face was only a few inches from your own you stopped to admire his features. He was a beautiful human, there was no doubt about it, but you never really got the chance to admire him so closely until now. His eyes, though wide with shock, were glimmering and you could almost see little hearts floating around in them. His lips, so big and plump, were the most kissable shade of pink. His skin, so soft and supple, gleamed in the low light of the living room.

Moving your hand to his cheek, you took your thumb and swiped it across his bottom lip gently and slowly. At this point his eyes were no longer wide in shock, but instead relaxed and shy. He looked at you through his eyelashes and if you were honest, you weren’t entirely sure what was going through his head. He was so difficult to read sometimes.

“Are you okay with this?” You whispered gently, keeping eye contact with him. The second he said ‘no’ you were ready to push yourself off of him and respect his boundaries, but you were just as ready to dive head-first into passion if he said ‘yes’. You watched as his eyes went from calm and collected to lusty and pleading, his lips parting slightly. “Yes, please, yes,” He whispered, his tone nearly resembling a whimper. As if his response was music to your ears, you let out a pleased hum as you closed the gap between you and locked your lips with his.

The kiss you shared with Jimin was an experience you had never felt before. Your kisses with Taehyung were otherworldly, incredible, perfect for lack of a better word. But this experience with Jimin was completely new. He was an incredibly soft kisser, his lips moving in perfect harmony with yours, and despite not being able to speak to you he was able to communicate exactly what he wanted and needed just through his kissing. He was needy while still being respectful, and hungry while still being reserved. Yet he matched your energy perfectly with no interest in heating things up unless you initiated it.

As you continued to kiss Jimin for what seemed like eons, you felt a familiar pair of hands slowly make their way from your thighs up to the hem of your pants. Taehyung's touch alone was enough to make you absolutely melt, your arousal going from high to insane within a matter of seconds. There was something about feeling his strong, warm hands trace the hem of your pants before gently unbuttoning them and pulling them down past your knees and then completely off. You let out a soft moan into Jimin's mouth as you felt Taehyung's lips make contact with your inner thighs, kissing them gently and lovingly.

"Mm," Taehyung hummed as he placed one final kiss on your upper thigh, a mere inch away from your throbbing heat. "Looks like my baby's ready for your touch, Minnie," He continued, swiping a thumb down your wet underwear. The feeling of his finger running down your most sensitive area sent a chill down your spine as you squirmed toward him, whining for more of him. Jimin broke the kiss as he looked over at Taehyung with lidded eyes. You could tell by his facial expression that he was in absolute heaven right now. After all, he was getting everything he wanted and more. "C'mere," Taehyung cooed, beckoning Jimin to switch places with him. Happy to oblige, the two swapped spots.

Uninterested in keeping you waiting, Taehyung attached his lips to yours. You were slightly taken aback by the change in pace considering your boyfriend was much more confident and aggressive about what he wanted, but once you were able to match his energy you were able to enjoy the fireworks you always felt when you were kissing him. After a moment of kissing, he pulled away from you so that he could start discarding some of his clothing before helping you pull your shirt over your head.

Jimin, who was now at your thighs, mirrored Taehyung's earlier actions and began peppering your thighs with kisses. As he trailed up from your knees to the hem of your underwear, he used gentle fingers to latch onto the waistband before looking up at you. "I-Is this okay?" He asked softly and shyly, wanting to make sure that he was allowed to go further and that this wasn't just some trick. Letting out a soft hum you ran a hand through his hair and pet his head. "Of course baby, go ahead and have what you want."

Once given the okay, the man didn't stop himself from quickly discarding your underwear and bringing a finger to circle your clit. Letting out a gasp of air, you threw your head back, trying to stop yourself from letting out perhaps the loudest moan you would have ever produced. Soon enough Taehyung's lips found their way back to yours as you continued to make out. You brought a hand down to his hip before slipping your hand down his boxers and feeling your way to his erection. Your boyfriend let out a gentle grunt into your mouth at your touch, his brain foggy with bliss.

As you continued to move your hand along Taehyung's dick, you felt a gentle finger slip into your entrance, and then a second. You let out a soft moan and instinctually pushed yourself down onto Jimin's fingers which began slowly moving in and out of you. They were different from Taehyung's, much smaller, but were able to get the job done very well. When his fingers were as deep as they could possibly go, he curled them, hitting all the right spots in all the right ways.

"Mmh," You whimpered into Taehyung's mouth as you felt your partner smile against your lips before pulling away. He went to go take his boxers off so that his dick could be free for you to do whatever you please to, but you beat him to the punch and immediately attached both hands to the waistband and yanked them down. With a smirk on his face, Taehyung leaned down to give you one more gentle kiss before taking his hand and giving his cock a couple of pumps. "Someone's a little impatient," he hummed, causing you to whimper once again.

As soon as he got close enough to you, you took your boyfriend's dick into one hand and ran your tongue along the tip, eliciting an impulsive moan of pleasure to come out of his mouth. You gave the tip just a couple more licks before beginning to take his length into your mouth. Just as you were doing so, however, you felt a new presence at your core. Not only was Jimin continuing to finger you, but he now attached his mouth to your clit, giving it the gentlest of kitten licks as a way to playfully tease at it. You let out an ecstatic moan which caused your entire mouth to vibrate and caused Taehyung to throw his head back in pleasure.

"You're doing... so good... baby... so good," Taehyung breathed out as he began to slowly thrust in and out of your mouth, bringing his hand to cup one of your breasts. As he moved in and out you continued to swirl your tongue around as best as you could, letting out the occasional moan when Jimin hit your clit in just the right way with his tongue. As he continued to double-stimulate you with both his tongue and his fingers, you brought a hand down to grab at his hair. He let out a soft moan in surprise, not expecting you to grab for him, which caused an even greater rush of pleasure to your clit. He let out a couple more moans and hums, knowing it was helping get you along, until you were seeing stars behind your eyelids and your orgasm came to you not just like a wave, but like a full-blown tsunami.

With your mouth still preoccupied with Taehyung, you attemped to look out of the corner of your eye to see Jimin come up for air. From what you could tell, he looked as beautiful as always, though with tousled hair and a face sheen from your wetness. You watched as, with pleading eyes, he looked up at your boyfriend "Please let me fuck her, Tae."

Taehyung, who was far too busy riding his own high, was snapped back to reality when he heard his friend beg. He pulled his dick from your mouth momentarily, somewhat edging himself, to reach over and swipe a hand over Jimin's sweat-beaded forehead before giving him a nod. "Be gentle with her, Minnie. Don't wanna hurt my angel now, do we?" The older boy gave an eager nod as he began stripping himself of his clothes. You admired his toned figure for a moment before Taehyung guided your chin with your hand to face him. You looked up at him, his hair ever-so-slightly damp with sweat, as reached down and gave you a tender kiss. "You look so beautiful, darling... so perfect," He mumbled, kissing you again before trailing down your jawline and neck. After every couple of kisses he would bite down and suck, leaving prominent hickeys all over the upper half of your body.

Completely forgetting about anything else for a moment, you get caught up in the pleasure of your boyfriend marking you and gasp at the feeling of the tip of Jimin's cock rubbing against your entrance. You feel it twitch slightly at the contact as you already hear a soft moan escape the boy's lips. Before you could even think about anything else he bucks his hips forward as he pushes himself into you, letting out a low whimper until he bottoms out. You throw your head back in pleasure, arching your back and gripping the couch below you. Taehyung comes up from kissing and marking you to look at your face, admiring the pleasure that was coursing through your features. He took a hand and caressed your cheek, murmuring sweet nothings to you while both you and Jimin adjusted to the contact.

Once Jimin was used to feeling you around him he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, going as deep as possible each time he thrusted back in. He was hitting all of the right places and it was driving you absolutely wild, causing you to let out uncontrolled moans each time he reached your g-spot. In an attempt to take advantage of your moans and to chase his own pleasure again, Taehyung returned his dick to your mouth, letting the tip touch the back of your throat so that it would get the most intense vibrations whenever you let out a sound.

At this point, the three of you were going crazy. All that could be heard throughout the house was a chorus of moans, whimpers, and grunts as the two boys thrust in and out of you and you consumed yourself with the pleasure that you were feeling. As Jimin's moans became more breathy and needy, they began to become straight up whines. "I'm..." He panted, unable to form a complete sentence as he began to ride his high. Taehyung, aware of what was happening, stopped momentarily. "On her stomach, Jimin," He snapped. He wasn't going to let his friend cum inside of you even if that meant grabbing him and pulling him out of you himself.

Fortunately able to respect Taehyung's wishes, Jimin pulled out just in time, his dick twitching as ropes of white coated your stomach. He pumped his cock with his hand a couple of times to make sure he got all of the cum out, but after doing so completely collapsed onto the couch, eyes glossed over as he was caught in a daze of euphoria. Your boyfriend pulled his own cock out of your mouth as he grabbed you and gently turned you so that he was able to enter your cunt himself, thrusting in and out of you with sporadic passion and energy.

As he continued Jimin's job of hitting your g-spot, he brought a hand to your clit and rubbed his thumb over it, causing you to twitch under his touch. You let out uncontrolled moans as Taehyung's own moans started to turn into whimpers as he got closer. You began to tighten around him as you rode your own orgasm and he released inside of you shortly after, painting your walls white. As he let every last drop of his cum enter you he continued to thrust sloppily, ensuring his seed was staying inside. Once it got overstimulating, however, he pulled out and flopped down onto the couch between you and Jimin.

"You did so well," Taehyung cooed, pulling you close to him and giving you a kiss on the forehead. He then turned to Jimin and caressed his face, pushing his sweat-dampened hair out of his eyes and rubbing his cheek gently. Jimin was still far too dazed to speak or react to Taehyung's words or actions. He was still in complete shock that this even happened in the first place, but he wasn't about to say that he wasn't thankful that it did.

You watched your boyfriend through lidded eyes as he got up to go retrieve a towel from the bathroom that he could use to wipe your stomach as well as between your legs. He knew that you would probably go take a shower anyway, which is what you should do, but he didn't really want you to be sitting there in that state anyway.

Once done cleaning you up, he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. The three of you eventually got redressed for the time being so that you could appropriately resume your boring movie and watch it to the end. Because let's be honest, even though the movie sucked, you loved each other's company and you didn't want the night to end.

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morganas-pendragons · 1 year

Text

Haven’t We Given Enough? | Joel Miller

Okay, so hear me out. I've known about this game for years but have been exclusively an Xbox kid since like 2004 so I've never had the opportunity to play it. I heard Pedro was cast as Joel and I was shocked that I actually knew the actors playing Joel and Ellie. Saw the trailer, watched the entire first game gameplay, and now I'm here.

Whoops.

I will say this though: I'm really bothered that I could find like nothing but hardcore smut in the tag for this character. I aim to change that. Enjoy some hurt/comfort!

@ironmandeficiency

This is meant for a fem!reader. There are themes of past pregnancy in this that may come back into play later (reader had and lost a child) so if that is something that makes you uncomfortable, read at your own risk.

***

It’s remarkable how similar he is to the very thing you’ve thought him to be since you met. While Ellie is like a summer fire burning across empty, barren fields, Joel is the vengeful, unrelenting snow storm that threatens to pull you apart.

He becomes increasingly good at it the longer you know him. Those dexterous, strong fingers wrap around the rungs of your ribs and pull them apart until the fragile beating thing you call a heart is exposed.

That fragile beating thing has simply endured too much. It’s endured heartbreak, and loss, and pain, and it’s somehow still keeping you alive despite having lived through the beginning of the Outbreak and twenty years into it.

Sheer determination has kept you alive. Not love, not your little sister, just a culmination of all the things you’ve endured that have turned into anger.

It’s not like his anger though. Yours is calm. Methodical. Purposeful.

Joel Miller’s anger is exactly like him: Vengeful, unrelenting, terrifying. It’s only once you meet that your anger begins to temper down into something he has never quite known. Not in this life anyway.

Gentless. Compassion.

Peace.

And well, Joel Miller finds that the longer he knows you, the more he aches to learn what that really means.

It’s weird. You know it’s a weird habit, but you’ve been doing it since you were a little girl and have a difficult time not falling back into old habits. People have often accused you of being aloof. Bashful.

At the very least, people-watching is resourceful and educational. It really teaches you about what to expect from the ones you don’t quite know yet.

People watching was how you found yourself drawn to Joel Miller.

It started whenever Marlene sent Tess and Joel to smuggle the two of you out of the city. You were Ellie’s older sister - born before the Outbreak, almost fifteen years her senior - and her solely remaining blood family since your parents deaths. Your mother’s dying wish had been whispered into your ear with her final breath: Look after your sister.

So you did.

“I will be damned if you even think I’m not going to follow that girl,” You snarled, jabbing your thumb into Marlene’s chest. “That’s my sister. My blood. My promise. You will not take that away from me.”

The Boston QZ was, as to be expected, a literal hell. The only way that you and Ellie were going to survive was if you joined the ranks of the Fireflies. You did. You did, and it ruined you. Any remaining semblance of innocence that you had died years before.

You didn’t want to think about that. It was past, it was gone, just like that part of who you’d been at that point.

All gone. Just like the rest of the world.

Marlene knew better then to argue with a Williams. Where you lacked, Ellie made up for it. It was comical how a fourteen year old girl, in certain situations, had more diplomacy then you did.

She was the one who talked when Joel came into the room for the first time.

“Be careful with that one,” You warned afterward. Marlene snorted as both Williams sisters simultaneously crossed their arms over their chests and leaned into the counter as Joel left the room to confer with his partner. “He’s a storm.”

Ellie knew of your comparisons. She knew of your uncanny ability to read people, to see people, and she’d never doubted you. Not once.

“Funny. First time you told me this, you said I was a fire. If he’s a storm...” She nudged her head uncertainly in the direction Joel had left in. “Then what kind of storm is he?”

Your eyes flutter closed. You’d been able to gauge a lot just from those few minutes of conversation. “Winter,” You reply quietly. “One of those blizzards we got caught in the winter you turned four. Mom and Dad had us hunker down. We didn’t leave the bank we were in for well over a week. Stayed in the safe.” You pause. “If we had even threatened to step into that storm, we would’ve been obliterated. That’s the kind of storm Joel is. Unyielding, vengeful.”

“Your comparisons never fail to amaze me, kid,” Marlene commented. “You’re right on the nose. Watch out for Joel Miller.”

He’s nothing if not ruthless.

***

For the first couple of months you’re forced to travel across the country with Joel, you hate him. You hate how dismissive he is of you and you hate how he continues to act like dragging Ellie to the Fireflies who will then make the cure is the worst inconvenience he can possibly experience.

You hate him. You hate him so much because he seems to be able to see right through you. No one has done that since-

Not since him.

Ellie knows who he is. Joel doesn’t. He doesn’t ask why you sometimes wake up with a cry bubbling in the back of your throat, or why your hands always subconsciously drift toward your ring finger when there’s nothing there.

He also doesn’t ask why your hand is almost always lingering on your stomach when he sees you through the cracks in the doors of the rooms you and Ellie sleep in.

He doesn’t ask.

So you don’t tell.

***

You remember the first time he ever saved you from a clicker on your way through Pittsburgh with Joel, Henry, Ellie and Sam. It’s another one of those instances where you can recall things most other people can't: the details people cannot be bothered to remember.

The smell of the tunnel. Damp. Dark. The smell of infected wafting through your nose, a familiar smell now just like the burnt bodies you so often found permeating the air in the QZ.

The click of the shotgun. The desperate shout of Joel’s voice as he tackled that creature to the ground before firing once, twice, three times into its face while you struggled to regain your breath.

The way that, afterward, he’d tossed the gun into Ellie’s arms to take your own into his hands and survey your skin for bites.

“You good, darlin’?” He’d asked, and your brain short-circuited because this was not the same man who'd spent the last several weeks showing you and your sister nothing but utter disdain and contempt.

“Yeah, yeah... I’m good.” You murmur. “Thanks Joel.”

The most memorable part of that particular day - aside from the sunlight and the way it reflected just right against the grey and white of Joel’s hair and his eyes - was the way you had learned that, underneath the rough exterior, he had the same bleeding heart you did.

***

Jackson is nice. It’s clearly the beginnings of what’s meant to become a larger, thriving civilization somewhere down the line, but it’s the first place you’ve been in the last twenty years that feels calm.

Joel’s entire demeanor changes upon arrival, and it’s not until the gates open that you realize why: The man who steps through - and is clearly one of the few in charge - bears a remarkable resemblance to him.

You and Ellie later find out that it’s Tommy. His younger brother.

The details of that newly made memory are astonishingly clear: The curve of Joel’s smile, the feeling of the sunlight, the laughter that echoes as the three of you are led inside.

For once in the last two decades, you have finally met someone who doesn’t have malicious intent.

“So who’s the older girl, Joel?”

“Kid’s sister,” Joel replied curtly. “That’s it.”

Tommy clucked his tongue and shook his head as they entered the water plant. “I know you better then that,” He argued. “Way you look at her? Not just her sister. You’ll figure it out sooner than later even though that thick skull of yours.”

The plant is attacked by the bandits who have been trying to infiltrate the compound for the last couple of months. Your illusion of peace is shattered as you again are forced to take, take, take, until there’s nothing left but bodies to deal with.

That’s when you find out Ellie is gone. You find out Ellie is gone and for the first time in quite a while, you are properly afraid.

And fear fuels you. Just like anger.

Joel knows anger, but he doesn’t know your anger until he has the gall to tell your little sister she doesn’t know what loss is. It’s unfortunate you manage to hear the entire conversation through the bedroom door while staking out the house to ensure you’re in the clear.

She’d run away from Jackson. Why, you don’t know, but you had been more panic then anything else because it was the first time Ellie had ever attempted to do something like that.

You really just wanted to know her reasoning.

“What do you want from me?!” Joel snaps, harsh and sharp, as he storms deeper into the room.

“Admit that you wanted to get rid of me the whole time! Admit that my sister has been nothing but an inconvenience to you and you’ve felt burdened by us both!”

You can’t see Joel’s face. You can’t see his face, but you see the way his body reacts to that statement. He’s trying really hard to keep himself under control. It’s admirable.

They argue for what feels like years. Ellie calls him out, again and again, only to be stonewalled by Joel’s incessant need to keep everyone at arms length and provide as little information about himself and his feelings as possible.

What causes you to storm into the room is the statement that makes the whole world grind to a stop.

“I’m sorry about your daughter, Joel... but I have lost people too.”

“You have no idea what loss is.”

Ellie’s entire aspect shifts into something akin to both horror and shock as you storm into the room, fury radiating from your features, to only then whip Joel Miller around and slap him in the face.

Your handprint burns against his cheek as he stares at you slack jawed, raising his own hand to cradle him jaw. Joel’s seen you do a lot of things. He’s seen you kill, and he’s seen you comfort, but he’s never bore witness to the heart of the storm itself.

He immediately regrets provoking the argument now.

“El,” You say quietly, fury dripping from your words as you grip his shirt with tight fingers. “Go downstairs and join Tommy. Now.”

Ellie doesn’t argue. She never has because she knows better. With a curt nod, your little sister evacuates the room like a flood has just fallen upon it to leave you - the gentle storm versus the vengeful one - alone with Joel.

“Sunshine-”

“Don’t.” You snarl. “Don’t you dare. You don’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to telling her she doesn’t know what loss is, you sanctimonious egotistical-” Your hands pound against his chest, once, twice, three times. Every hit makes you just a little more tired. “We all know what loss is, Joel! You’re not the only one who’s had to deal with the funerals!”

Funerals.

Huh.

Snatching your hands with his own, Joel’s response is quiet and extremely unnerving as he murmurs, “We didn’t have funerals. We just burned them.”

You don’t have time to reply. There’s people in the house, and you’re left to slip back into your mask as you remove your gun from its holster and flick the safety off.

You don’t spare Joel a second glance.

***

It’s another dead end. Another dead end full of questions and no answers that leave you asking more that no one seems to be able to give you. There might be nothing here but bodies and unanswered questions, but it does give you one thing that makes it memorable.

The way that Ellie has smiled more now than she has since your parents and Riley died. You don’t try to intervene, to make yourself apart of what are undoubtedly her memories to carry, so you watch.

It’s enough.

It’s pretty straight forward into the University - nothing, nothing, and more nothing - until you’re ambushed by another group that has you and Joel fighting hand to hand for the first time in a while.

You’ve only just managed to incapacitate yours when a resounding crash sounds from outside, and you just barely see the telltale salt-and-pepper hair go careening over the edge of the balcony.

Seeing Joel like that.. That’s the second time you’ve known the same fear in such a short amount of time: Fear of loss.

There’s me, the fool with the slow heart who dared to think I could love someone else again.

***

The storms feels like it’s dwindling now. Like it’s simply the kind you get in the early hours of the morning in December, where the clouds are thick and gray and cover the entire sky as snow slowly falls to stick upon the chilled earth.

Joel Miller has been this unyielding, fierce storm that threatens to tear everything apart from the moment you met him in Boston. He’s cold. Calculating. Sharp. You’ve seen what he’s capable of - and reacted quite violently the first time, you hadn’t realized the human body held that much blood - and have experienced the ramifications of what such things can do.

The nightmares, the abrasiveness, the need to push everyone away because it’s simply easier than allowing yourself to love something that death can touch.

You’ve always known Joel to be a storm, but since Ellie - and you, though you just don’t know it yet - have wormed into his heart, the storm has dwindled. It’s gentler. Softer. More willing to listen to reason, to fight for something other then himself.

The rough exterior that turns so many people away is slowly giving to show who’s under the surface.

You were almost positive that your heart was going to give out when you watched Joel fall from Ellie’s horse. You’d barely been able to do anything about the wound he’d obtained from the rebar at the university, using what meager means of medical supplies you had in your saddlebags to pack and dress it so the bleeding stopped.

Ellie had watched you from the top of Callus as you carried him to the horse and slowly eased him into her arms.

“Do you think he’s gonna make it?” She asked you later, long after you’d lost sight of the school over your shoulder.

“I hope so, El.” You reply quietly. “I don’t know what we’ll do if he doesn’t.” It’s half a truth with a confession hidden in between of your true feelings toward the matter. You’d spent so much time watching Joel - learning about the inner workings of a man your heart aches to know, to heal, to love - that you weren’t sure what you’d do if his steady, sure presence wasn’t around anymore.

The three of you have made your home inside a garage in an abandoned neighborhood when the snowfall hits. Ellie volunteers to take care of the horses while you situate yourself and Joel into a crude attempt of a sleeping situation inside, pushing two of the remaining mattresses together and scrounging up blankets for you to shield yourselves from the cold.

You don’t like how pale he is. His wound isn’t infected, which is good, but his heartbeat is too weak and you can’t help yourself from feeling somewhat responsible.

“Joel Miller,” You whisper, long after Ellie is gone and it’s just the sound of uneven breathing and the pounding of your heart from where you lay curled around him on the pair of mattresses. “You’ve gone and gotten yourself into my blood stream. You’re not allowed to give up on me. On us. Do you understand?”

Joel doesn’t answer. Of course he doesn’t answer. You don’t expect him to, but part of you wishes he’d open those dark brown eyes and gaze up at you with all the longing and desperation you’ve felt towards him since... since.

The bitter cold that settles in your bones is an alarming reminder that you need to curl around Joel to preserve body heat. Last thing you need is him dying of hyperthermia.

“Don’t leave us,” You whisper again, curling your fingers into his hair as you tuck your body around his own and press your chin against the top of his head. “Don’t leave us.”

We can’t take another funeral.

***

The first time Joel wakes up is the day before Ellie leaves for another hunting trip. She’s scrounged up a meager amount of supplies through the houses in the neighborhood, just enough for you to get by, but you can’t help but feel the weight of the guilt settling in your stomach when you hear Ellie’s stomach growl halfway through the night.

It’s not like you’re sleeping anyway.

Joel’s sudden state of awareness is brought upon by the fingers raking through his hair and the warmth that touches his skin from the body wrapped around him. It’s odd, foreign. After so many years of isolating himself from other people, he hadn’t realized how much he craved physical contact.

And the burn that follows is enough to make him groan.

“Joel?” Immediately your hands are at his sides, Ellie’s face just above his head as his vision swims. The pain is muted. Numb. He’s barely feeling is because he’s far too distracted by your hands. “Can you hear me? I’m going to check your wound again. If you stay awake enough, I want you to eat.”

Ellie has taken his head into her lap before he can protest. Joel is awake just enough to say your name, low and hoarse, before his vision swims with black spots and the last thing he can remember is the burn.

He can remember the burn, and he can remember how you made him feel in the midst of it. Peaceful. Safe.

Joel Miller has never known peaceful or safe. Not since her. Not since Sarah.

And as he succumbs to sleep, he finds that he wants to know it more.

***

Ellie’s been gone for too long. You know she’s been gone for too long, and you haven’t heard from her on the walkies the two of you had found a couple of weeks before.

She’s been gone too long. You need to go find her.

That’s the second and final time Joel wakes up.

You’re halfway through loading his shotgun when he finally comes to, wide eyed and alert as his hands scramble for purchase on the closest weapon to him. “Easy, Joel,” You chide gently. “It’s just me.”

Something settles in him. He seems at ease with your answer.

“Where’s-” Joel grunts as he sits up, pressing a hand to his side as he does so. You ease the shotgun to the side and kneel down to his level to meet the worry in his gaze. “Where’s Ellie?”

Your frown deepens. “She went out to hunt too long ago,” You reply. “I was just about to secure this place and then go look for her.”

“Why didn’t you?”

You fidget nervously with your hands as your gaze drops into your lap. “I didn’t want to leave you alone, Joel.”

He wants to scold you. Joel wants to chastise you for such a foolish decision when your sister’s life is on the line, but he can’t find it in him to do so because your gaze is so genuine. He’s not used to that.

Joel Miller is not used to real.

Pressing a gentle thumb to the divot in your chin, you’re captivated by the way the condescension and hostility in his demeanor is gone as he slowly moves his fingers to cup the curve of your jaw. “Thank you,” He murmurs gratefully. “But now we need to go find Ellie.” A pause. “Are you ready to do what we need to do, if it gets bad?”

He always asks you this. Right before he has to embrace the side of himself that scares you, that you’ve tried so hard to keep at bay, Joel warns you about it.

“Yeah. Yeah...” You pump the shotgun in response and press it against your hip. “Yeah, I am.”

It’s uncanny how quickly you’ve learned how to slip into your masks. The mask of the gentle, compassionate woman that Joel had only just gotten to know disappears in the face of the violence he’s so accustomed to - shifting into something darker, more apathetic, more willing to do what needs to be done.

Even for the sake of one life.

You don’t even flinch when he starts torturing two of the men patrolling the neighborhood you’ve called home for the last few days. Not when the screaming starts. not when the blood pours.

“Now, the girl. Is she alive?”

“What girl? I don’t know no girl!”

The poor idiot doesn’t start talking until Joel has driven his blade clear through his knee. According to his endless rambling, your kid sister has become the newest pet to someone named David.

And that makes you see red.

You don't blink twice when both bodies lay motionless on the ground.

“Hey Joel?”

“Yeah, sunshine.”

“When we find this David,” You drag your fingers across the expanse of his shoulders to rest them on the exposed skin of his neck. His pulse thrums steadily under your touch. “I’m going to be the one to put the bullet in his face.”

***

The storm has died down to a newly fallen December snow. The temper has eased, and the anger has dissipated - only to be directed toward the people who are most deserving of it - into something that searches, that yearns, for something.

Snow melts. Snow melts and reveals what lays beneath it.

You’re just inside of the Salt Lake City limits when it happens. You’re the one who volunteered to take watch while Joel and Ellie slept. The three of you were nearly in the endgame now being so close to the Firefly hospital. Once your sister was taken there, the world would finally be saved.

And you could finally settle. No more running, no more existing.

Chewing absently on the inside of your cheek, you fiddle with the edge of your rifle from your lookout point over your camp. You’re almost too deep into your thoughts to hear him scream.

But he doesn’t just scream. Joel screams Sarah’s name, and everything becomes astonishingly clear as to why he has been the way he is. Ellie had told you about Tommy trying to slip Joel the last photo of him and his daughter before the outbreak. How he’d refused it. How he, to this day, remained adamant that his departed little girl would never be a topic of conversation.

No one warns you about the loss of a child.

“Easy, Joel,” You warn, shouldering your rifle as you climb down from the tree to sit beside the bed. His shaking fingers are wrapped tightly around the hilt of his blade. “There’s just a couple of hours until the sun comes up. You thirsty?”

Dark eyes flicker to the next bedroll. Ellie is still sleeping.

“No,” He replies gruffly. “But thanks.”

There’s a long moment of companionable silence that passes as you sit beside him, finally feeling courageous enough to spill your heart at his feet, “For all those months when we started this, I hated you. I hated you because you clearly hated me-”

“First off,” Joel interjects sharply. “Never been a time in which I hated you. Don’t know what gave you that assumption.”

“So if it wasn’t hate, then what was it? I’m not an expert at reading Joel Miller,” You shrug. “At least not yet.”

The sun is just beginning to creep over the edges of the three line in front of you. The sky above is shifting from the deep black to a soft, gentle blue that will shift into the golds and oranges of dawn.

You’re running out of time.

Joel swallows the knot in his throat as he contemplates his answer. Giving the real answer means being real and vulnerable. He’s not sure if he’s ready for that yet.

He’s not sure if he’s ready for that but with the open, earnest way you’re looking at him? He’ll get there eventually.

“Sarah was my daughter,” Joel says quietly. He can’t look at you. If he looks at you while he says this he will come apart at the seams. “She died at the start of the epidemic. Longer that goes by, more I’m almost.. grateful.” The words are sour on his tongue. It sounds so wrong. “She was too good for a world like this one. Too pure. Any kind of innocence I had was gone a long time ago. I was made for this kind of life,” His eyes slowly shift to meet yours. You haven’t taken your gaze off of his face once. “You and Ellie weren’t.”

You smile. “That’s sweet, Joel. Really. But you could not know-”

“I do know. I know because you have something that doesn’t exist anymore.’’

You tip your head to the side in confusion. “Which is?”

“Goodness. Compassion. You’re real,” Joel pauses, running his tongue along his teeth. “That’s why it looked like I hated you. I hated you because I was afraid of how real you are. How gentle you are.”

“Why would that be something you’d fear?” You ask softly.

“Because I don’t deserve that kind of thing, Sunshine. Goodness? Compassion? All the soft things that died with my little girl?” He shakes his head. “Those aren’t something you give to someone like me.”

You’d noticed over the last couple of months that every time you touched Joel, he recoiled like he had been burned. You’d seen that before too. It was the look often accompanied by the quiet desire to seek more of something you’d been deprived of: The look of a touch starved man.

It was why you’d been more deliberate in starting slow. Cheek touches, chin touches, gentle fingers raking through his hair to scrape across his scalp and kisses to bloodied knuckles on the nights things were bad.

If he wanted real, if he wanted peace, you were more then willing to give it to him.

“I had a son,” You whisper. This is not something you are ready to divulge to Ellie. Not yet. “He was born around the same time she was, though she never knew it,” Something akin to realization flickers through his eyes before he’s opening his mouth to apologize, most likely, but you hush him with a raised hand as you continue. “He died before he ever turned one.”

You didn’t want to continue. It was still too fresh. Too raw. He would’ve been fifteen soon.

Joel took your hand into his own and spread your fingers apart, dragging the tips of his own fingers across the back of each of yours before lifting them to his lips to kiss all your fingertips.

“They have a word for someone who’s lost a spouse. What do you call someone who lost a child?”

And there it is, that quiet understanding you share that makes you ache to pull back what remains of his walls and finally reveal the man who lay underneath.

You hum thoughtfully as you then lean forward to just barely graze your lips against his cheek.

That’s also the same time Ellie decides to wake up. She sees the way your silhouettes cast across the grass as the rays of early morning light emerge from over the trees. She sees the way Joel leans into you like he’s seeking something, and she sees the way scarlet dusts your cheeks when you finally pull away.

Hm.

Seems like you’ve finally found what you’re looking for.

***

Everything finally feels right. You’ve finally started down a path that ends with Joel realizing that you love him, with Joel realizing that he’s deserving, and with you hopefully realizing that he’s been reciprocating for quite some time.

The three of you are at the hospital in Salt Lake after being caught in the flood. You’re the one who took the most damage. Battered and bruised, Joel is left to watch helplessly from your bedside as you sleep. He’d only just woken up himself in the same state.

Marlene comes in much, much later to tell you what’s going on with Ellie. What the real cure is, what it will do to her.

And suddenly, again, everything comes screeching to a halt.

This is the story of how, despite everything between you and Joel going right, everything begins to go wrong and you’re left with a decision that will inevitably cost you your sister.

All of those lives, for the sake of one.... is it worth it?

Haven’t I given enough?

part two??? :D

#The Last of Us #tlou #tlou1 #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel x Reader

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bakubunny · 10 months

Text

let me hear you

pairing: bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako

wc: 7.73k

tags: aged-up characters, dildos, dom/sub undertones, embarrassment, hair-pulling, masturbation, mutual pining, oneshot, praise kink, fluff and smut, texting, banter, vaginal fingering, orgasm delay, ochako is lowkey a size queen, bakugou is an asshole but also kind of soft, (slight) crackfic treated seriously, mina is sweet but has no filter and no chill

summary: Ochako moves back in with Mina after a busy five year contract abroad with a new hobby of collecting 'personal items,' i.e. fantasy sex toys. One day, Bakugou overhears her having some personal time on her day off. Stupidly, she invites him over to help when he won't leave her alone about it....

So Katsuki, the opportunist that he is, seizes an unconventional moment to try and show Ochako he’s changed since the last she knew him, at least a little… sort of.

preview:

“I can do that,” he said. “Sweet talk for a sweet girl….” Ochako snorted, finally freeing her face from his grasp. “You, sweet? Since when?” “I’m an asshole, not fuckin' stupid, Ochako. I can talk sweet for a pretty girl who wants to come,” he bristled as the intensity of his red eyes returned. “Could’ve fooled me,” she said playfully. “I’m not convinced.” “I think you are. You just want more of it,” he replied.

a/n: if you like this fic, i'm already working on a follow up, release date tbd. keep an eye out for it here or on my ao3, and thanks for reading!

“I don’t know if this is impressive or concerning,” Mina said.

Ochako turned around to see her friend and now roommate in front of an open box on her bed that was labeled DO NOT OPEN in multiple places while holding something very large, brightly colored, and phallic shaped.

“Mina, get out of there! What are you doing?” she said quietly. Red from her neck to her hairline, Ochako pulled the sex toy out of her friend’s hand and swiftly put it back where she’d found it. “I wrote ‘DO NOT OPEN’ in big letters all over the box for a reason.”

“Yeah, and that means it’s obviously the first box I’m gonna open when I see it,” Mina said.

“Or you could just, I don’t know, not open it,” Ochako said with exasperation.

Ochako loved Mina dearly. In fact, she was one of the few from UA she’d kept in contact with during her entire five year contract in the United States. But this was one of the moments she desperately wished Mina would utilize a little self control….

During her time overseas, Ochako had started a collection of ‘personal items,’ partly because she didn’t want a relationship or a hookup, and partly because they were all so pretty and enticing. Sure, fantasy sex toys from independent companies were pricey, but they were infinitely better than most of the generic, cheap ones she’d tried, and they looked beautiful. She didn’t really care as much for the ‘fantasy’ aspect as she did the feel of soft, smooth silicone and a wide variety of shapes, sizes, and textures, all custom poured into any color combination she could wish for. Beautiful marbles of pastels and fades of vibrant colors, ones that sparkled and others that glowed in the dark. Ochako knew from experience that they were worth every penny she paid, hence why she was unwilling to part with any of them when she moved back home.

“When the heck did you get so many dildos? And that one was massive! Is it even usable?” Mina asked way too loudly.

Ochako went red further.

“Shush, will you? Yes, they’re all usable. I started collecting when I went overseas,” Ochako replied.

“Why? There’s nothing wrong with it, and they’re pretty. But was it really that hard to get laid over there?” Mina said.

“No, I just… it’s easier. And I like them. That’s all there is to it,” she said.

Mina looked at her like she’d grown another head for indirectly suggesting her private ‘hobby’ was better than a hookup. (And truth be told, most of the time it was.)

“Where do you want the dresser, cheeks?” Bakugou said. He and Kirishima were carrying her dresser into her bedroom without drawers.

Ochako’s eyes shot wide open and she scrambled to close the box in front of her. She still hated when he called her that, and he knew it, too. After asking him to stop twice earlier that day, she gave up on it.

“Uh, the far wall should be fine!” she squeaked out as she shoved the box into her closet when the guys came in. She quickly closed the mirror doors behind her as Mina held back a snicker from the look on Ochako’s red face.

“To the far wall it goes,” Kirishima replied.

As they carried the dresser to the far side of the room, Ochako was silently cursing Mina for even suggesting she needed help moving to Kirishima, let alone insisting on it. She was Uravity. A bed frame, a dresser, and a few heavy boxes were nothing for her. It was just a thinly veiled excuse made by Mina to see her boyfriend in a cutoff shirt carrying heavy things. Kirishima, kindhearted and clueless as ever, agreed without a second thought about it, and he’d somehow roped Bakugou into helping, too.

Not that Ochako was complaining; he was still a hot tempered asshole that she wanted nothing to do with, but she wasn’t blind. Time had only gone in his favor, and he looked hotter than she’d ever remembered. He was slightly taller now and his muscular frame had filled out. Soft, baby faced features had started to fade, unlike hers. At twenty five, she still looked like a child, at least in her own eyes, with her mousy brown hair and round cheeks.

“Thanks again, I think that’s everything that goes in the bedroom. I should be able to take it from here,” she said with a bubbly smile when they’d set the dresser down.

“Drawers?” Bakugou said.

“Huh?”

“Don’t you want the drawers for your dresser, Ochako?” he replied with a cocked brow that only seemed to deepen when he saw the flush on her face.

Ochako.

It felt weird hearing her name come out of his mouth. Uncomfortable.

“Right. Of course,” she said. “Drawers in here, and then I think the last few boxes can go down the hall.”

With that, she nearly shoed everyone out of the room to get the drawers, making sure she was the last person out.

**** “I just can’t believe you genuinely think all of that would be better than the real thing,” Mina said as she took books out of a box and put them on the bookshelf near Ochako’s dresser. “I can hardly go two days without Eijiro.”

Ochako was unpacking her toy collection into proper closet storage; against the wall on the inside, she’d put a narrow, white bookcase where she could keep things easily accessible and visible but still tucked away from prying eyes. It was the only box left, and at this point Mina already knew about it and kept asking questions, so she had no reason to hide it. The most used ones were on a shelf at eye level; a variety of moderate to small sizes with different shapes. Smallest ones took up a portion of the top shelf, and larger toys were neatly arranged on the shelves below. Her collection wasn’t as massive as some she’d heard of and seen online, but it certainly wasn’t anything to scoff at either.

“I never said it was better. I said it was easier and I enjoy it,” Ochako replied.

“Okay but like. When was the last time you had a good fuck? You know I’ll happily be your wingwoman and we can solve that problem real quick,” she said.

Warmth bloomed in Ochako’s cheeks.

“I-It’s been a while. But you definitely don’t have to do that. I don’t want a hookup. Or a date,” she said with a laugh.

“How long, Ochako?”

“I told you, a while,” she replied.

“Weeks?… Months?…” Mina pressed.

Ochako was silent as the last item was set on the shelf. She started to pick at the tape on the cardboard box.

“Years?”

“…yeah,” Ochako admitted. She peeled off the tape and threw it away.

“Seriously, girl? Did you get laid at all while you were gone?” Mina said incredulously.

“I mean I tried at first. I just never found the time,” she said.

“In five years?”

“First it was the language barrier. Then after that, I was busy and tired from work. And when I did, it was so bad, Mina,” she said. Ochako flopped onto her bed.

“Yep, that’s what we’re doing. We’re fixing this like tomorrow,” Mina replied.

“Please, I don’t need anything fixed. And before you get so dramatic about it, it’s not like I haven’t done anything. I just haven’t…” she trailed off.

“Gotten dicked down?” Mina asked.

“Yeah…. The few times I tried, I somehow wound up with guys who couldn’t find my clit let alone get me off with a little guidance, and that just kinda ruined it for me. Either it didn’t go any further or I faked it before sex started. Then one year alone turned into two, and….” Ochako sighed.

The other part she didn’t say was that Mina had always been infinitely more comfortable talking about - and seeking out - sex than her. With her little hobby, every thought and desire stayed in her head. She didn’t have to tell a damn soul. And Ochako was more than okay with that.

“It’s okay, really. I’m satisfied now, so why mess it up? Plus, now that I’m home for good I’ll eventually start dating again…. Probably,” she said.

Ochako had longed for that for some time. Someone to be close to. Someone to care for who cared for her in return. But that was far more complicated than a simple hookup.

Mina stopped unpacking books and gave her a look between pity and horror.

“My god you’re worse than I thought,” Mina replied.

Ochako let out a laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I just know what I want. So I’m not itching to hook up with anyone.”

She could practically see the wheels of scheming and mischief turning in Mina’s head.

“Don’t go getting any wild ideas,” she said.

“It’s not a wild idea. Just one you’re not gonna like,” Mina replied.

Ochako raised an eyebrow in question.

“Didn’t you see the way Bakugou looked at you the other day?”

Heat flooded her cheeks. She shifted uncomfortably.

“Ohhh no. No. Absolutely not. You’re right, I hate that idea,” she replied.

“But he was practically eye fucking you any time you weren’t looking! And even when you were looking he still did half the time,” Mina said.

She snorted as her body grew hot. “Was that the weird look on his face? I just thought he was being moody.”

Okay, so maybe she’d noticed. He wasn’t exactly subtle. But Mina didn’t need to know.

“Chako. Really?”

“What? Yes, really,” she laughed. She was blushing so hard that she felt it creeping down her neck.

Mina shook her head.

“Okay, fine…. But just like you, he’s changed at least a little bit. Just think about it, okay?” she said.

“Sure, but my answer isn’t going to change,” Ochako said.

“Not if I have anything to do with it…” Mina mumbled.

“Mina!”

**** Three weeks later

Ochako held her breath as her hips rose and fell, hands pressed into the wood floor. She had to hold herself back from slamming down onto the soft, warm, deliciously full feeling sliding in and out of her cunt as she took it all the way to the base with each slow thrust. Try as she might, every now and then a whimper or moan would escape her throat.

Her phone buzzed, a text. She checked to make sure it wasn’t an emergency text from her agency. It was a number she didn’t recognize.

Unknown Number: what are you doing 9:33 PM

She put her phone down nearby assuming it was spam and went back to sating the desires of her body. Two texts came in shortly after.

Unknown Number: dont ignore me cheeks 9:35 PM

Unknown Number: i can hear you 9:35 PM

Ochako’s heart stopped when she saw the notifications. How was that even possible? Were the floors made of paper?

UO: Bakugou? I'm working on a project. 9:36 PM

UO: Put earbuds in or something. I'll be done soon. 9:36 PM

A stream of texts came back.

BK: thats me 9:36 PM

BK: must be some damn project 9:36 PM

BK: no if youre not gonna stop i wanna hear you finish 9:37 PM

BK: and dont be shy about it 9:37 PM

The blood drained from Ochako’s face as the text came in. She swallowed thickly trying to come up with a response, but ended up erasing every one as he watched her type.

BK: come on i know you want to 9:40 PM

BK: let me hear you angel face 9:41 PM

UO: I don’t know what you’re talking about. 9:41 PM

BK: you gonna keep going for me? 9:42 PM

BK: gonna be a sweet girl and make yourself cum? 9:42 PM

UO: Gross. When did you become such a perv? Get lost. 9:42 PM

Ochako could hear the teasing tone of voice he had through text. Palms sweating, she peeled the suction cup base off the floor with shaky hands and climbed onto her bed. She laid there for a minute undecided on whether to continue or not, heart racing with embarrassment and shame.

BK: thats ok i know youre gonna think of me anyways 9:43 PM

BK: have fun roundface 9:43 PM

UO: Ew. I’ll pass. 9:44 PM

She tried to ignore the thoughts swimming in her head as she started again, this time more to find release from what she’d started than because she really wanted it. But it wouldn’t leave her head. Thoughts of Bakugou listening to her through the floor. Of him blowing up her phone with those stupid texts. Of…. She pushed the thought away. Unfortunately, the thought of him was exactly what made her come, and hard. Miraculously she managed to do so in silence.

Ochako felt gross inside and out as she took a shower and went to bed.

**** Ochako had just started lunch when her phone buzzed. It was Bakugou. She sighed. Hesitantly, she opened the message. It was a photo of her bathroom. Specifically, it was a picture of one of her toys drying on the counter: a thick, smooth, gently curved S-shape that tapered into a slightly wider base, much bigger than any average person could logically be but not absurdly large, at least to her. It was a pretty color, too; a light lavender shade with glittering gold streaks and shimmering teal-blue marbled through it. Her newest one. She hadn’t even tried it yet.

BK: holy shit you need to get out more 12:02 PM

She nearly spit out her tea.

UO: What the hell are you doing in my bathroom?? 12:04 PM

BK: mina let me in 12:05 PM

BK: our waters turned off downstairs and i need a shower 12:05 PM

UO: I don’t care. There are two bathrooms. Use the other one. 12:06 PM

BK: no can do cheeks 12:07 PM

BK: kiri is in minas and i dont wanna wait 12:07 PM

BK: your toy is cute tho 12:08 PM

UO: GET OUT BAKUGOU. 12:08 PM

BK: makes me wonder where you keep the rest 12:09 PM

BK: is that the one you fucked on the floor last week? 12:11 PM

UO: OUT. NOW. 12:11 PM

BK: bet it fills you up good doesnt it 12:13 PM

UO: CREEP. 12:13 PM

She wished to melt into the floor or float herself all the way to space when a second picture came through. It was a quick, low effort selfie but it was enough to make Ochako nearly pass out in embarrassment. Bakugou was clearly naked in front of the mirror, the bottom edge of it stopping just above any improper places. Her sex toy was still openly visible in the corner.

BK: too late its shower time 12:19 PM

Ochako sent Mina a text. There’s no way she was innocent in this.

UO: Mina, what the fuck is Bakugou doing in my shower? 12:19 PM

UO: Did you look in the bathroom before letting him in? 12:20 PM

AM: Woah, calm down. Its okay, it'll only take a few minutes. 12:22 PM

UO: No, I will not calm down 12:22 PM

UO: Because it’s not okay 12:22 PM

UO: Okay is the last word I would use to describe anything right now 12:22 PM

AM: ??? 12:23 PM

After carefully deleting the text referencing last week, Ochako sent screenshots of the conversation she’d just had with Bakugou.

UO: I’m leaving Japan and never coming back 12:26 PM

UO: My life is over 12:26 PM

UO: Back to the land of the Free of Bakugou 12:26 PM

AM: OMG IM SO SORRY 12:26 PM

AM: RUNNING TO BR NOW 12:27 PM

AM: PLS DONT RUN AWAY ILYSM 12:27 PM

AM: WHERE DO I HIDE IT 12:28 PM

UO: I don’t care just get it out of the bathroom please 12:28 PM

UO: And for the love of all that is good make sure my closet is shut 12:29 PM

UO: And maybe just ask next time? 12:29 PM

She sighed and looked at the food in front of her, now having lost all appetite. This was not how she anticipated her return to Japan. Staring out the cafe window and onto the street, she observed the many passers by through the lens of Ochako instead of the vigilant eye of Uravity. It hit her just how much she’d missed home even though she suddenly had another anxious longing to leave.

Ochako had turned down a second lucrative five year contract in the US because she missed her family and friends back home. Luckily enough, all of her hard work was paying off. She was able to land a contract near home at almost the same salary with none of the extra living expenses or general barriers of life overseas on a working visa; now that she was home, she was being recognized for the hero she was. More than that, though, she was able to take care of her parents the way they had taken care of her for so long, especially now that her living costs were so much lower.

Being away from Japan had helped her grow tremendously; she was out of Deku’s shadow and able to come into her own, proving herself to be a strong and competent hero in both rescue and combat. No longer was she being offered sidekick roles for her peers. She was the one who could hire a sidekick now, if she wanted to, but it didn’t interest her.

Mina’s text tore her out of her thoughts. Ochako had fifteen minutes left before her lunch was over and she was back on patrol.

AM: Also like. This only confirms my theory that you basically have a good fuck staring you in the face and you’re gonna try to ignore it 12:45 PM

UO: I told you, being attractive doesn't mean anything. 12:46 PM

UO: He’s probably shit in bed like the rest of them. I think I’ll take solitude. 12:46 PM

AM: Oh come on Ochako he HAS changed some 12:47 PM

AM: He’s basically like my brother but I’m not above admitting he’s hot and a little less asshole-y than when we were younger 12:47PM

AM: And do you remember nothing about UA or the last time you lived with me?? 12:48 PM

Ochako remembered a lot about UA and the two years she’d lived with Mina before going to the US. She’d tried to simply forget that Bakugou even lived next door, the experience was so scarring. She ignored Mina’s question.

UO: You did this on purpose, didn’t you? 12:49 PM

AM: Okay maybe I did 12:53 PM

AM: But I’m only trying to helppp 12:53 PM

UO: Well stop. I don’t want help. 12:55 PM

AM: THATS ONLY WHAT LONELY PEOPLE SAY 12:56 PM

Ochako let out a sigh as she put her face in her hands.

**** This time, Ochako had a plan. It was her day off. She’d double and even triple checked for over a week that the apartment below her would be empty today with Mina and Kiri…. Mostly because she thought Mina might ‘conveniently’ not tell the truth. After preparing throughout the morning to make sure it wouldn’t hurt too much going in, she took her new lavender dildo and stuck it to the floor, checking to see that the suction cup base was secure.

Ochako felt a little more heat pooling between her legs as she generously applied lubricant. She hovered over it, slowly guiding it to her hot, wet core. Her eyes went wide as the head slid in easily, still much thicker than expected with a stinging feeling. She let out a moan that was louder and more lewd than she’d ever want to admit to herself or anyone else as she sank down about a quarter of the way and stopped to give her body time to adjust.

Leaning forward, she made herself comfortable realizing that even if this wasn’t the biggest one she had, this one was going to take work if she wanted a chance to use it at all. After several minutes of playing with her clit and gently moving her hips, she sunk down half way. Goosebumps ran across her skin when sparks of heat and electricity slid from her core to the rest of her body as she did. Her cunt clenched tightly in near protest as it wept with desire. It felt so unbelievably perfect. The sound it elicited from her lips almost felt wrong, how vulgar it was. The process of waiting and adjusting started again… and again… until her hips finally came close to reaching the base.

Ochako could have sobbed from the overwhelming fullness inside her once she’d taken the whole thing, and she all but did. Her breath was heavy and panting even as her hips remained still. Little groans left her mouth as she waited until she couldn’t take it any longer. Her hips slowly moved up to the head, then down slowly, slowly. She clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle a cry as she sank down a second time before a desperate sob bubbled up out of her chest.

She may not have gotten fucked in a long time, but even if the ‘real thing’ was better, there was no dick in existence that could give her this.

Ochako jumped when her phone buzzed with a text notification.

BK: fucking hell ochako keep it down 11:13 AM

BK: i know youre horny but have some decency 11:13 AM

Her stomach dropped as hot tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Of course. Of course. She was instantly mortified. Now her day was fucking ruined.

UO: ?????? 11:15 AM

UO: I thought you weren’t home?? 11:15 AM

BK: change of plans its my day off 11:16 AM

Tears spilled down her cheeks, quite possibly just from the overwhelming embarrassment and the growing heated need in her stomach she so badly wanted to relieve. She just wanted one day in solitude without having to worry about being overheard and promptly shamed for it. Ochako sat back and wiped her burning, flushed face, trying to shake it off.

UO: Well I planned today long in advance. 11:23 AM

UO: How about you be the one to have some decency for once and give me the privacy I planned on for an hour or two? 11:25 AM

BK: takes you that long to get off? 11:26 AM

BK: can you even find your fucking clit? 11:26 AM

UO: No. I’m going to edge myself and come until I can’t think if you really need to fucking know. 11:30 AM

UO: Now fuck off and let me have one day to myself. 11:31 AM

Ochako almost slammed her phone down onto the rug nearby and as she quietly sank back down, hips burying the achingly sweet fullness and let it sit inside her. Tears threatened to fall down her face again. She had to block it out. But he wouldn’t leave her alone and she was stupid enough (or horny enough) to entertain him.

BK: no wonder mina practically begged me to fuck you 11:32 AM

UO: I already told her I’m not interested. I said you were probably shit in bed anyways. 11:33 AM

BK: only one way to find out huh 11:33 AM

BK: let me hear you cheeks 11:35 AM

UO: No. I’m not here to fuel your wank session. 11:35 AM

UO: I’m sure you’re already stroking your dick. You have zero self control or decency. 11:36 AM

BK: quit being such a brat 11:36 AM

BK: youre the one that cant keep your fucking mouth shut for five seconds and im the one who has no self control? 11:37 AM

UO: I’m not a brat. You’re a presumptuous asshole. 11:37 AM

BK: get the hell over yourself and keep going 11:39 AM

BK: i know you dont wanna stop 11:40 AM

BK: let me fucking hear you damn it 11:44 AM

BK: or do i need to come up there and watch? 11:47 AM

Heat radiated out of her chest and down her spine as she stared at the blinking cursor. Ochako wasn’t sure if she was turned on or angry or nervous. He wasn’t even near her but she could hear the words in his voice. It might have been playful, but it wasn’t a question. It was a threat.

BK: come on stop staring at the screen and fuck yourself 11:53 AM

Heart pounding hard, desperation won and Ochako gave in. Just a little, that’s all she needed. Just enough to sate the ache of desire…. She gasped at the initial movement. Ochako slowly let her hips rise and fall once more. Her moans were soft and whining at the start, but they quickly devolved into something that was low and needy and impossible to hold back as she gradually increased her pace.

Ochako's phone was going off periodically. It went ignored until a call came through. She stopped and answered.

“What?” she said.

“I’m gonna help you, cheeks. I wanna fuckin' hear you for the slut you are.” Bakugou’s voice was heated and rough.

Ochako went weak and she started riding again.

“Then why did you call? And don’t call me that,” she said breathlessly. She moaned as another wave of pleasure hit her body. “Use the spare key before I change my mind.”

Ochako hung up.

**** Katsuki walked down the hall to her room and as he got close, he could hear her. Moans that were needy and lustful. The sound of her ass kissing the floor. Shit, he needed this so much. Don’t fuck this up, Katsuki.

The heady scent of her arousal hit his nose as the door opened and he swallowed a groan. Fear struck her eyes as he looked down at her. Bare from the waist down, Katsuki noticed her soft thighs twitching slightly as she sat back. Her cheeks were flushed, both with what looked to be nervousness and lust. Fucking adorable, that’s what she was.

Ochako froze when she heard the doorknob turn and click. The door swung open. Bakugou’s crimson eyes were dark and ravenous the moment he saw her. Now that he was here, she was panicking, kicking her stupid, horny brain for picking up the phone at all. She hadn’t had a guy in her room for years and Bakugou was her choice? This was possibly the worst decision she’s made in a long time.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” she said quietly. Ochako smiled but swallowed hard. “You can come in I guess.”

Bakugou shut the door behind him as he walked in. She looked down and started playing with the hem of her t-shirt He knelt down in front of her but she didn’t look up. The warmth of his breath hit her face and the hair on her neck raised, a little shiver running down. Ochako was staring at his distressed black jeans where one knee met the floor in an attempt to find a focus point. Something about it, him kneeling to meet her gaze, filled her belly with warmth and made her blush. Even if she could pinpoint it, she wasn’t sure if she’d want to. Say something, Ochako, anything….

“I don’t know why I asked you over and I’m kind of regretting it,” she blurted awkwardly.

“’S okay. I won’t bite… unless you ask nicely,” he teased.

The heat and fullness between her legs was throbbing as he spoke. Ochako gripped the fabric in her hands so tightly her knuckles went white.

“And I don’t want to have sex or do anything like that. I… I just wanted you here, so don’t expect anything from me,” she said defensively.

“Never did. Just wanted to watch.” Bakugou lifted her chin, his face inches away from hers.

Ochako kept her eyes shut tight.

Oh god oh god this was absolutely a horrible idea, you dumb girl, she thought. The warmth of his fingers, his breath, the look she knew he likely had on his face, it made her ache for more of his touch and he hadn’t even done anything.

“Look at me, Ochako,” he demanded.

Fuck, her name sounded so good on his lips. She opened her eyes to find his full of heat, ready to devour her whole. He stared her down with crimson eyes in a cocky, hungry way that melted her fears into wanting.

“Gonna let me do that?” he said softly.

Ochako’s heart raced. She nodded.

Bakugou sat down with his back against her bed with his legs spread wide, one knee up. He patted the empty spot in front of him. She wasn’t sure how he made black jeans and a gray t-shirt look so damn good, but he only seemed to look better sitting that way with his eyes watching her intently, blond hair askew as always.

“Put that thing in front of the mirror and face me. I wanna see all of you,” he said.

With clammy hands and a wet sshhlick as she got up, Ochako did as he asked. Her cheeks burned hot. Now she was somehow more anxious, feeling so exposed as Bakugou intently watched her core meet the soft silicone as she slowly slid back down onto the brightly colored dildo stuck to the floor between her legs. The fullness of the head and then the shaft as it gently slipped in was dizzying, pulling another groan out of her body. Ochako gripped the hem of her shirt in one hand. Bakugou grabbed her hand and moved it to his leg, the fabric of his jeans smooth under her fingers.

“What the hell happened to you, cheeks? You’d fuckin think we were still in high school with how nervous you are. Relax,” he said.

That got a little laugh out of her.

“Get out of your damn head for once.”

“I don’t know how sometimes,” Ochako replied.

He scoffed and grabbed her face; his voice got darker.

“Yes you do. Don’t be shy. Do it,” Bakugou goaded.

Ochako flushed hard; the way he provoked her was so stupidly hot. Slowly, she lifted her hips and let them sink back down with a gasp and a quiet moan. “That’s it, keep going. Just like that…. So if you don’t wanna be a slut, what do you wanna be?”

Fresh heat crashed over Ochako’s face at the question. Little waves of tingling pleasure shot through her core and up her spine, drawing out a whine. She tried to pull away from his grip, but he didn’t let her.

“I-I don’t know,” she whispered, trying to escape his intense gaze. She did know; she had plenty of ideas. But all of it was going to stay in her head.

“Gonna have to find out together then, huh?” he said as he stroked her cheek.

“Y-yeah.”

“You’re doing a good job, angel. You look so pretty…. But I think you can do better for me, can’t you?” he said.

Ochako’s eyes got a little wider. She stopped. A shudder rolled down her spine. His voice was soft and low, almost sweet; it jumbled up her insides and scrambled her brain. This was not the Bakugou she remembered.

He grinned slightly. “You like that, huh? Want me to keep being a little sweet, princess?”

Ochako’s reply was instant.

“Y-yes, please,” she said sheepishly.

“I can do that,” he said. “Sweet talk for a sweet girl….”

…sweet girl…. Something in her mind went a little fuzzier when he said that….

Ochako snorted, finally freeing her face from his grasp. “You, sweet? Since when?”

“I’m an asshole, not fuckin' stupid, Ochako. I can talk sweet for a pretty girl who wants to come,” he bristled as the intensity of his red eyes returned.

“Could’ve fooled me,” she said playfully. “I’m not convinced.”

“I think you are. You just want more of it,” he replied.

The Bakugou she had in her head was grumpy and loud and aggressive. He was simultaneously full of himself and anxiously insecure. He was impatient and did what he wanted. And in the few weeks she’d been home, she’d seen that in many ways he still was all of those things… just less so than before. But this Bakugou almost had patience and a hint of softness and it made her thoughts sputter.

“Come on, angel face. Fuck yourself for me. Show me what you really want,” he said quietly.

Goosebumps washed over Ochako’s skin as he spoke and she whined, pushing herself down just a little harder and faster with each thrust. The thick and gentle curves of her toy teased every little tender spot in her cunt just right; shudders rippled down her back as the tension in her body grew. The needy moan that ripped out of her chest from the overwhelming sensation felt embarrassing as he stared at her face. She wanted to hide, but Bakugou only encouraged it; the look he had as his eyes went from her face to the mirror behind her and back was almost reverent.

“Fuck, you look so good, Ochako. You take that toy so well for me. I love the way it fills your pretty cunt and makes you so damn wet. Makes me wish I could be the one making you feel good. You’re perfect. Don’t stop sweet girl, I wanna watch you all fuckin' day,” Bakugou said.

Ochako moaned under his praise as heat slid over her body, causing her cunt to tighten and flutter. Every sensation was dialed up to ten with how achingly, wonderfully full she felt. Pleasure licked her back and legs with every movement she made.

“That’s it… just like that. Make yourself feel good for me. Your voice is so pretty when you moan, angel…. So damn cute,” he said.

The look of lust and flushed cheeks on Bakugou’s face only made her want him more. She broke her gaze from his and chanced a look down to his lap, gripping the fabric of his jeans tighter with wide eyes when she did. His cock was hard and it was big, but in that perfect way where it was thick and just long enough to make her ache for it. Ochako groaned with want and cursed at the sight.

“Katsuki…” she whimpered.

Bakugou smirked.

“Like seeing what you do to me, cheeks?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Good. ’S been that way for a long fuckin time,” he said.

Before she could process what he’d said, he took her face in both hands and kissed her hard and fast.

**** Katsuki was already really fucking impatient. He wanted to rip Ochako’s shirt off and run his hands and mouth over every part of her body, kiss her until she couldn’t breathe, make her look up at him with that little bit of fear mixed with desire, make her ride his face until she couldn’t fucking string words together, hold her down and fuck her until her mind went numb. But he could see that patience was what she needed, and that was the one thing he never fucking had. All of that would have to wait for another day, no matter how bad he wanted it. If there even was another day.

Somehow, watching Ochako gave him the patience he needed if it meant he got to see her like this…. The way her bottom lip quivered and her breath went shallow and quick before letting out a whining moan. The way she pushed her face into his hand when he stroked her cheek, yearning for his touch. How she flushed and got a little closer to coming when he said something she really liked. How she sobbed when his hand slid back, gathered a large fistful of hair, and gently pulled, and she begged, “harder, please Katsuki,” with her brown doe eyes staring back at him, full of want and desperate need. The sight of her thighs quivering a little every time the pleasure seemed to be overwhelming, and the feeling of her gripping tighter onto his thigh when it happened…. Hell, just the sight of her ass moving in the mirror, the lips of her dripping cunt gripping and swallowing her dildo whole with every thrust, getting filled and stretched so good would be enough to make him bust if his cock was out.

But not today. Today was for her, he’d decided, not just some girl who could get him off.

Maybe proving that he’d grown some amount of self restraint over the years would be enough.

Maybe then she would finally fucking get it.

**** If Ochako thought she needed to come before, it felt nothing like the need she had now. Every time she got close, he told her to stop. Whenever she tried to reach between her legs for that last little push, he grabbed her hand and pulled it away. And stupidly enough, she listened.

The look on Bakugou’s face grew more sadistic the more restless she got.

Ochako whined as he snatched her hand for the fourth time.

“You told me you were gonna edge yourself. Just trying to help, princess,” he said with a grin. “Can’t have you thinking I’d keep such a sweet girl from getting what she wants.”

“Katsuki, please,” she begged, “I need it.”

A thin film of sweat was on her back. She couldn’t think as she continued to thrust; everything inside her was so mixed up and horny and achy and needy. Her breath was heavy. Her clit throbbed. The down hairs on her skin raised as shudders and shivers danced across her skin only reminding her of what she wanted.

“But you’re doing so well, angel. You’re being such a good girl, making me so proud…” he purred.

Ochako groaned. He’s getting too good at that, and way too quickly… she thought, as a shiver slipped down her spine.

She took his hand and guided it to her wet cunt where her hips moved, eyes glossy and desperate as she looked back at him.

“Please, Katsuki,” she said softly.

Katsuki caved. Either he was some kind of weak little shit, or a fucking goner. It was her damn eyes that made him too soft; he would give her anything if she asked, at least right now.

“You want me to make you come, pretty girl?” he said.

“Yes, please,” she replied.

The heat of his rough, calloused hand met with her hot, slick skin where he rubbed firmly. Ochako cried out and grasped his wrist tightly.

“G-gently,” she stuttered.

His touch lightened and she felt her body relax a little. A wave of relief washed over her skin.

“Slower…”

“Like this?” he asked.

Bakugou’s movement slowed and Ochako moaned, her body beginning to tremble as he stroked her clit softly with the pads of his fingers. She leaned more of her weight into her hands to support herself as the tension in her body unraveled at his fingers; her legs quivered with weakness.

“Shit, yes, fuck,” she babbled. “That’s perfect, please don’t stop.”

“Good girl, you asked so nicely. That's exactly what I want,” he said.

Ochako’s climax built as her body unwound and she groaned. She looked at Bakugou to take in the lust on his face; his breathing was ragged, his eyes dark with want, his face and neck flushed. Seeing his desire for her drew a whine from her throat, her breath heavy and panting.

“You’re so damn gorgeous, you know that, Ochako? You’ve been so fucking good for me, listening so well. I love how wet and desperate you are,” he said, voice wrecked with desire.

Bakugou’s words made her moan as he stared back at her. The muscles in her core fluttered erratically as chills ran down her spine. Ochako clamped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to quiet herself, her moans increasingly wanton and unhindered as her mind slowed down to feel every little thread of pleasure radiating from her cunt, weaving itself across her skin.

Bakugou took his free hand and pulled hers away.

“No. Let me hear you.”

“There are other neighbors, Katsuki,” she said with a hint of anxiety.

“So? Who gives a fuck?” he replied. “You want me to make you come, and I wanna hear it. You gonna let me do that?”

Ochako went back and forth in her head for a moment before she gave in. “You better make it fucking worth it.”

“You’re damn right, I will,” he growled as his eyes flared.

Bakugou slid his fingers across her scalp through sweat-dampened hair to the back of her skull, gathering as much as he could and pulled her head back with a firm grip. Ochako’s mouth fell open and her eyes rolled, a deep, heated groan bubbling up out of her chest. His tone was low and rough as he spoke, the heat of his breath on her ear making her tremble as shivering goosebumps raced across her skin.

“You’ve been so fuckin' good, Ochako. I’m gonna make you come so hard you see stars. I can’t wait to see how perfect you look when you come. You’re gonna sound so pretty for me and I fuckin' love it,” he said.

The steady pace of his fingers on her clit pulled her deeper into ecstasy as each thrust of her hips sent toe curling pleasure radiating down her legs to the soles of her feet. Ochako moved harder and faster, chasing her impending release.

“Just like that, keep going. You’re so beautiful like this. Given in, let yourself feel good…. You’re doing so well,” he said.

The number of different pleasant sensations firing in her body was dizzying as she lost herself in it.

“Katsuki, I….” Her thoughts trailed off into a moan when another wave of mind numbing pleasure hit and her legs began to shake.

Bakugou gave her the final push she desperately craved. “That’s it, babygirl. You’re so fuckin' close, aren’t you? Don’t hold back, give it all to me. Come for me, angel….”

Ochako came with a loud cry, orgasm crashing down on her body as she shook. Her eyes went white and her mind blank; pleasure hit again with intensity that made her legs give out.

“Good fucking girl, fuck…. That’s it, princess. Don’t stop. Don’t stop coming for me. I want it all. You’re so pretty when you come.” Bakugou wrapped an arm around her and she braced herself against the support as his hand between her thighs carried her through the rest of her climax.

She reached down to grasp his hand when it became too intense and he stopped.

“Good girl…. That was perfect. I’m so fuckin proud of you, angel face,” he said.

Ochako whimpered in his arms, little shivers still coursing through her veins. As she came to, the weight of what had transpired hit her. Her eyes went wide. She froze, trying to think of what to say.

Bakugou interrupted her thoughts.

“Don’t overthink it, cheeks,” he said. “I sure as hell don’t regret it and neither should you.”

Her ears grew hot.

“Right. You’re right,” she said stiffly. “Um. I - have to shower and clean up. But you’re welcome to stay for a little while… i-if you want.”

He scoffed. “You think I’d just leave?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We’ve never been that close. I don’t know what kind of person you are outside of what I remember.”

He crossed his arms with a grumpy look. “Give me some credit, I’m… not like that,” he grumbled.

Ochako couldn’t help but grin a little at his attempt to display some modicum of kindness. Wincing slightly as she pulled off of the toy between her legs, her body quickly started to feel the aftermath of it all. She fumbled trying to peel the slippery dildo off the floor.

“Leave it. I’ll take care of it,” he said.

“You don’t have to-”

“I know,” Bakugou replied.

He was met with silence as Ochako processed her next thought.

“Okay. Um. There’s mild soap in the top right drawer in my bathroom. Wash with that and leave it to dry,” she said.

“Got it. Now go,” he said.

Ochako didn’t have to be told twice; her mind was reeling with a million thoughts after a decidedly strange day, unsure if she wanted it to happen again. With clean clothes in hand, she closed the bathroom door and turned on the shower.

**** Katsuki ruminated on the day while he laid in Ochako’s bed with her nodding off in his arms. The sweet, floral scent of her shampoo filled his nose as his fingers ran through her hair.

“This isn’t going to happen again,” she’d insisted when she got out of the shower.

“Didn’t plan on it,” he’d replied as he laid back on her duvet.

“You don’t have to stay to be polite,” she’d said.

“I’m not,” he’d said as he got under the covers. “Relax, cheeks. I’ll leave soon.”

He’d locked the bedroom door to keep out a nosey Mina, though with luck, he’d planned to be home before she or Kiri ever found out.

After several minutes, faint little snores filled the quiet space. Katsuki didn’t want to go, but he did want a chance of Ochako not being pissy with him later because he got caught in her room. Slowly and carefully, he got out of her bed and pulled up the covers.

Katsuki grabbed the spare key he’d left on her nightstand, slipped his sneakers on at the front door, and locked it behind him.

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eupheme · 1 year

Text

IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE | part iv: long road ahead

[masterlist]

joel miller x f!reader

Rated E - 4.6k

Tags: brief canon-divergence, reader is mid/late 30s+, soft!dom Joel, angst, references to anxiety, mentions of hunted food and meals, sort-of romanticization of a wound, manual restraints, unprotected PiV

A/N - this is it! Thank you to everyone who has read along and commented. I appreciate you so much! 💕

The days grow longer. And you find that all good things must come to an end.

The ground crunches under your steps, one after another.

He walks beside you now. Those worn leather gloves stuffed into pockets, the soft brushing of fingers and knuckles - never quite entwining.

Silence has been a third companion this morning. Along with the bright sun glinting off the melting snow that collapses under your steps. A rare, warm moment.

A good time to get from one place to the next, if there ever was one.

You wish it was like the time you went out before.

That walk from a few days ago, after those stolen moments in the barn. Steps taken afterwards, in a contented haze - even through the twinge of soreness between your thighs.

Over-enthusiastic, in his recompense.

You think you understand it now, after his words. Realizing there was nothing that could make him do anything. That maybe he had just been waiting all those weeks, like you had.

There's an inhale of breath, as his steps crunch alongside yours. Something weighing on his mind - enough to steal his voice, to hide it away.

You've picked up that much at least - the silence of thought looked different on his face than the silence of listening, of holding his tongue.

But on the next breath, he lets his thoughts free - flying straight like an arrow.

"You have a good thing goin'," His voice is low, as if he might be overheard. As if the trees around you can listen, as his tongue wets his lips.

A pause, "But it's only you out here."

You glance at him, steps slowing when you see how serious his eyes are. Examining you, as his jaw works - before they're dropping.

His tone changes, going lighter, "You could come with us."

The words sit heavy between you. Bringing you to a crashing stop as his offer curls inside your brain and your heart.

You can't pretend it's something you haven't thought about. Dismissed. Thought about again.

A never-ending loop of what-ifs that you have to force yourself not to dwell on - too painful to consider. Never thinking he would actually ask.

"I can't." There's a tremble in your voice that you shake away - a pain that pricks at your eyes, "This is all I have."

There's something like pity in the look he gives you.

A tension between his eyebrows as he coaxes, "What if I told you there was more out there? This place ain't going to last forever."

His hand flexes, as if to reach for you. Moving to grip onto the wire fence, instead - curling around the ice-cold metal.

"That generator has a year left on it. Two, tops."

Your eyes drop. Part of you knows this. That you've kept up the cabin the best you could. But it's been twenty years since the world ended. Some things you can't fix anymore.

"You can't live like this. All alone." He means it kindly. But it twists in your stomach, your sorrow turning into anger.

An acid souring your words, spitting them back his way, "At least it's livin’."

Neither one of you are the best at talking things out. Losing the craft when actions spoke louder.

His own anger flaring - unsheathing that sharp edge.

"They ain't coming back. The person you're waiting for. You know that, right?”

His words are like a slap, staggering you. Cruel, even if he doesn't mean them that way. Even if he only wants you to see what you've been ignoring, avoiding, for years now.

It steals your words, as you stare back at him. The twist of his mouth, the angry tilt of his eyebrows above those eyes that seem to pierce right through you.

It transforms him into someone you don't recognize.

Taking him back to the man he was, on that first night.

You turn on your heel, then - your boots sinking into the damp ground with the force of your steps. Leaving him standing at the fence, his arms now hanging at his sides.

It feels like an impossible choice. That tiny bit of hope eroding into a sliver of nothing. You've told yourself a hundred times that you wouldn't ask them to stay. That you couldn't.

That it wasn't fair.

But it's on the tip on your tongue, now - even in spite of your anger. Trying to force their way through your lips.

His voice comes first.

Low and soft, but still freezing you in place.

"Ellie is immune."

And slowly, you turn.

He stands where you left him, dark eyes solemnly searching yours. Wanting, needing you to understand what he is saying.

"What?"

You heard him, but it still doesn't make sense. Thoughts seem to buzz in your head - the words scooped up with the wind, taking them with it.

"Been bit twice and hasn't turned." He takes a step closer, and you find yourself doing the same.

Another, and then another - until you're in front of each other, again.

“I'm taking her to a group in Salt Lake City. Might be able to find a cure."

All you can do is stare, as his words sink in. Emotions flickering in your chest, like those old kodachrome slides - each breath changing the photo. Shock bleeds into worry, melting their way into sadness. And then, hope.

"Is she, really?" You breathe.

A mark still settled deep between your eyebrows, as you think. How Ellie must have felt, that first time. You can't imagine the fear of a bite - and to have experienced it twice? At her age?

So capable, but so young. She shouldn't have had to grow up like this. To have gone through that.

"I've seen the mark." His hand rakes through his hair, before bracing on his hips, "Made a promise I'd get her there safely."

You nod, automatically.

The unseen burden - their drive - making sense in a way you never understood until now. The weight of their journey replacing the heavy one in your heart. What a difference, this girl could make.

You see her in a new light.

Maybe she could prevent what happened to you from happening to anyone else.

His fingers brush yours, and you take them - his grip warm and familiar. Standing for a stolen moment, before you acknowledge the impossible impasse.

He can't ask you to go.

And you can't ask him to stay.

Your eyes burn.

You tell yourself it’s just from the wind.

———

As the days pass, you pick up on it.

The slow packing of things.

A spare zip-up jacket that’s taken up residence on the old wooden chair, now tucked away into a bag.

The small pile of tools - a swiss army knife, the skinny phillips head screwdriver.

Spending weeks cluttering the little side table. Sharing the space with an old iron lantern, so Joel could see when he tinkered on things in the evenings.

Now, swept away like they never existed. The pieces like magnets - slowly working their way back to each other, back to where they came from.

It makes your chest ache, but the days are getting a little warmer. The mark on his stomach starting to fade instead that raw, red splash.

Healing, with the time that has passed.

It has you wanting to withdraw, even though you should be blooming - sprouting up through the thawing soil.

Instead, you find yourself tucking yourself in your room a little more often. Leaving them alone.

Not every day - there’s moments when you forget. When you are just happy to be with them, spending time. Soaking it in.

It’s in the mornings, when your bed is empty. When there’s that flip in your stomach when he’s not there - when you remember that in the no-so-distant future, he won’t just be on the other side of the door.

That’s when you linger. Letting yourself press into the bed, softer than the floor.

You’ve never been good at goodbyes.

You’ve never gotten the chance to give them.

And when you finally have the chance, you don’t want to. You want it - them - to linger.

To be tethered, like you are, to this place. Moss growing over stone.

But you can’t ask for that. And with what you know now, you won’t let that happen.

There's a finality in the way you pluck things off the pantry shelf tonight. As you prepare the meal - passing things to Ellie to open, watch over for you as they begin to cook.

Giving Joel the best cuts of meat from the deer. It had taken him two days to track it down. It's become harder and harder to find food around these parts.

You should ration it. If he notices, he doesn't say anything. Letting you season it with an abundance of spices, almost too much, before he takes it to the fire.

Pulling as many comforting things as you have. Letting your mind wander back to your childhood, trying to adapt it to now.

Canned potatoes, a hearty chili, peanut butter sandwiches. Applesauce and and old packet of kool-aid.

In the past, you would have nibbled away at each one. Stretched them into days, wanting to save these small indulgences.

Tonight - you don't care.

It becomes a patchwork of flavors. You're not even sure if it will go together. But if it's good - you make it.

Wanting them to go to bed tonight, full and happy.

That you can do, at least.

The food fills most of your cookware, finishes dishes spilling across your counter. Plates piled high as the sun sets - the golden beams making the kitchen feel hazy. Softened in the evening glow.

It takes most of the afternoon, but it's worth it. To have that moment of sitting down together.

Of actual tableware set out, instead of standing at the counter - shoveling in a bite. Running off to finish what ever you'd been working on.

Tonight, metal clinks against ceramic. Steaming food and a swirl of red in wine glasses - a smattering of giggles with Ellie's exaggerated "pinkies out".

It feels - normal. In spite of everything.

It makes you wistful.

Like if you closed your eyes, it would be back then. That maybe you'd be home - still young and without all these unshakeable burdens and memories.

And if not that, then it makes you think of what could be.

What can't be.

A heaviness begins in your heart, stretching down to your fingers. Weighing down your fork - each bite slow.

But not because you're savoring it - when you look back, you won't remember the flavors.

Trying to soak the evening in. Every detail. Trying not to drag down the mood with your melancholy. Ignoring the way Joel's eyes sweep towards you, the pinching of his brow.

You don't want to make it weird. To cling on, even if your fingers itch to. It had been change and luck that had brought them your way, and hopefully that would follow them on the road ahead.

So instead, you throw yourself into conversations with Ellie. Really trying to listen, to remember all of it.

A smile, as you conceed that perhaps Batman wasn't a superhero, after all. A conversation you’ve touched on before, when Ellie found a stash of comic books on the shelf.

“I think his powers are his intellect, and disicpline. His humanity is his power, you know?"

“Bruce is just a rich dude in a suit. He's no different than Tony Stark."

"Iron Man is a hero. His suit gives him superpowers. Plus he's like, stupid-smart."

"How can he be both stupid and smart?"

"Joel, you don't even know who Iron Man is."

The dishes left in the sink, for you to tackle tomorrow. They will be welcome distraction, then.

Clearing the space for candles, as the streaks of purple and grey fill the rooms.

Cards flicking across the table. Throwing yourself into the Texas Hold'em that's been the favorite lately. Ellie catching on quickly, finding joy in calling out the bluffs.

Played for pennies, buttons, things found around the house. Carefully coveted when won, as if they actually held a value. It’s easy to throw yourself into it, getting caught up in the game.

It's late, when the round ends. When you're left looking at each other, the single candle not strong enough to keep away the creeping darkness.

You stand.

Still unwilling for things to end. Not yet. Just a few minutes longer.

So you find another candle instead. A thick one with three wicks - until the glow is warm and filling the space again. Washing over expressions that resemble your own.

"One more."

You play one more, and then another. As the minutes tick by, and the light burns low.

———

His thumb sweeps feather-light over the mark. Slightly faded with time that has passed - the angry slash fading to a swooped line.

You’ve spent nights mapping each other out in the dark, but not like this. The curtains drawn back to let the moonlight in, the candle from the kitchen moved to sit on the side table - making his skin glow in the golden light.

Touching you like he wants to remember, wants to actually know each scar and mark on your skin.

“This looks new.”

“It is,” You smile, a soft laugh. “That’s from the night we met.”

Joel’s head lifts, a question in his eyes.

“Ellie.” You tell him - a soothing brush through his curls when he frowns, “She’s one hell of a kid. Out of all of us, she’s the one that’s gonna be just fine.”

He makes a sound at that, a low acknowledgment. You wonder if he had more time, if he’d press for more information.

Head dipping as he presses his lips softly against the scar, instead.

“I’m sorry.”

It could be an apology just for this. For what he said before. Or - it just could be for all the things that has happened. To you, to him.

It’s too tender.

You’re not used to soft. Neither one of you are. Awkward and fumbling over words, trying to hold things back.

Knowing there’s not much time left.

You shake your head, “Don’t be. I don’t mind, it’s-“

It’s a reminder that the two of you existed. A memory, for when you’re gone. That it wasn’t just a dream.

It’s fucked up to think that way. But then again, what isn’t fucked up about the world, anymore?

“It’s fine. She was trying to help you.” You deflect, “Can’t fault her for that.”

He hums, his hand flattening against your stripped-bare skin. Drifting along the curve of your waist and hip, fingertips carefully dragging.

It makes your stomach flip, something bubbling up to burn in your chest.

You don’t want soft tonight. You don’t think you can take it.

Teeth gritting as you try to shift the weight. Trying to pull him on top of you, from where he rests on his side. A palm tucked under his cheek, his curls soft and tousled from a recent shower.

It’s domestic.

That bubbling feeling rises, choking you. Blinking back the sting of your eyes, as he resists for just a second - confused.

As if you could really move him, all on your own.

You second tug is softer, and he moves then. Rolling on top of you until his hips are cradling yours, elbows digging into the mattress on either side as he hovers.

Surrounding you, until he’s all you can see. A hand curving against your jaw, a thumb brushing against your cheek.

There’s a pinch between his brows. Something that’s been there since that morning walk, those days ago.

A permanent etching, above eyes that see too much.

Your own eyes close, to break that connection. A hand curling around the back of his neck to bring his mouth down to yours.

The groan sounds broken in your throat, when his body melds against yours. That weight pressing you into the bed, as you deepen the kiss.

Your thigh hooking around his waist, pulling him closer. The sound echoed when your teeth scrape his lip in your eagerness.

That look again, as he pulls back. You know he can read yours.

Desperate.

All but clinging to him, as his sharp look softens. You hope he knows what you need, because you don’t think you have the words tonight.

If you open your mouth, you’re afraid the rest will flow. That you’ll say something you’ll regret - all your feelings wrapped up so tightly, scrambling over each other to burst through first.

But, you think you can manage one. For him.

“Please.”

Those dark eyes flick back and forth between yours. You wonder if he needs the same thing because suddenly, his head is ducking back down.

The hand on your cheek sliding to cup the back of your neck. Thumb and forefinger pressing into the muscle, holding you in place as his hips start to slowly rock.

Grinding himself against you, as his tongue flicks at yours. Slowly swelling, growing hard against the soft curve of your thigh, your hip.

Leaving a sticky streak behind, as your fingers grip at his shoulder. As he swallows the moans that grow softer, as the neediness takes over.

Angling himself so he slides between your thighs. His hot length nudging against your core, shining from the way his mouth presses to yours. Slick now, as his other hand cups a breast.

Teasing, then pinching. The slight pain makes you gasp, the pleasure layering over it as he swallows the sound.

Your hips lift, seeking him. A frustrated hand snaking between you - wrapping around his length, lining him up.

His hips slow, to where he’s just pressing against you. Not nudging inside, not yet. Eyes open and dark as his head tilts back.

Watching. Observing your change of pace, a shift in what’s become the usual. A question in them, unspoken but you can read it as well as he can read you.

This what you want?

You need this?

Your lips are on his neck, as you shift. The tip parting and then splitting you as he starts to sink inside. Tasting the salt of his skin as your arms wrap around his strong shoulders, holding yourself against him.

Joel groans as he’s enveloped in your heat. The hand dropping to the curve of your waist and squeezing, as he drives into you.

It steals your breath, a soft gasp against his neck as his cock makes room for itself. A sharp stretch in the way he fills you.

Nails biting into the meat of his shoulder as his hips sit flush. Before his hand is moving - reaching for yours. Dragging one from his shoulder and pinning it against the mattress.

Pushing you back, bracing himself above you. That forearm still pressed into the bed, his fingers still cupping the back of your neck.

Head dropping, so he can nose against your cheek. His voice a low rasp, barely audible in the soft shell of your ear.

“If you want it, you’re gonna take what I give you.”

It sends a flickering thrill up your spine. How he has you held so firmly in place. Thumb pressing into the hollow under your ear - keeping your face tipped up towards him.

You do expect him to take. Bracing for it, a flutter of your eyelashes - waiting for the sharp, unyielding snap of his hips.

Instead, his hips rock. A lazy, slow drag as he nudges deep, and then deeper.

Your free hand clings to him, wrapping around a thick bicep. The heel of your foot pressing against the curve of his ass, urging.

But he keeps it up. Small thrusts into where you’re warm and wet and aching for him, tilting your hips up to meet him.

All while his eyes stay on yours. Rarely blinking - just taking you in.

You wonder if this is how you looked earlier, at the table. That greedy inhalation of anything you could.

Wanting to remember.

It has your jaw gritting. His tenderness would be something you’d marvel at, if it was another night.

But you want to forget. Everything that isn’t him, that isn’t just this moment.

There’s a pink flash of tongue as he wets his lips, framed by the peppered-grey strands of his beard.

“More?”

“More.” You parrot, a jerky nod to your head.

That sharper thrust comes, and then another. Each one pushes a thought from your head, replacing it with soft, hazy bliss.

The grind of his hips as he finds the angle that he knows well. The one that has you gasping, the coarse hair a much-needed friction against your clit.

Each thrust like a tooth on a gear, slowly winding you up. Twisting in your belly until you feel like it’s about to snap - your breath a ragged gasp with each harsh punch of his hips.

It’s almost enough. The fingers around your wrist tightening, as he hold himself back. Your thighs gripping around his hips as you clench, his own breath equally harsh.

His name, breathed out the feeling begins to overwhelm you.

“Joel. Joel, I’m-”

Those arms move, then. Releasing that tight grip, as his lips brush yours. His words an echo of that first night, when you had fallen in bed together.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Come on.” He coaxes - needing it as much as you do. “Come for me.”

Wrapping his arms around you, as you shatter.

———

He wakes her quietly. A hand on a sleepy shoulder, a gentle shake.

A finger raising to his lips as her eyes open. Bleary-eyed as she yawns, looking around the dark room. It's early - the morning light is just starting to crest over the mountains.

"It's time." Joel tells her quietly, no more than a whisper, "You got your things?"

Ellie frowns as she nods, foot pointing at the bag at the end of her bed.

"Alright then. Get dressed, we gotta head out."

A moment, her voice hoarse with sleep.

Almost sounding small, "Is she coming with us?"

He stares at her for a moment, before his head shakes, slowly.

Her voice drifts after him as he turns - not wanting to see the disappointment, "Then, aren't we going to say goodbye?"

"You know we did. Last night, that's what that was all about." He tells her, a bit of that old bite coming back, "We'll never leave if-"

We'll never leave if we see her again. We'll want to stay. We already do.

His jaw grits, "-if we don't get started now.”

She nods sullenly.

He gives her space.

Taking one last look around the small cabin. Flashes of the time that has passed - dinners by the little fireplace. How they all managed just to fit on that old worn couch.

How he hadn't seen Ellie laugh like that, not since Kansas City. Not since Sam.

He leaves it for her. Took him a while longer than he'd like to admit. Tucked into the book that rests by the window - the place where it all started. She'll find it there, he's sure.

Never been good at goodbyes. Not before, and not now. Not even when he's been afforded the extra time.

Hands shoved in his pockets so he doesn't touch anything else. Jacket already on, the rifle slung across his back. Itching to get out the door, because being stuck in this limbo is weighing him down.

Thoughts threatening to burst from the ground and wrap around his ankles, anchoring him until he has no choice but to stay.

But, they have a job to do.

Soon, the door opens. Ellie is staring - walking past him, to the kitchen counter.

Where some bundles had been left out. Cans of food and supplies wrapped in canvas bags. A bit of color peeking out of the top.

Those scarves she’s been working on. Finally finished, the ends weaved, neatly tasseled. She must have worked hard to finish them, putting this last bit of kindness together.

Ellie hesitates then, fingers tracing the woven pattern - glancing at the shut bedroom door, across the hall.

"Joel-" Ellie begins - but he's shaking his head.

"We gotta go."

"I know about it, that you-" She's protesting,

"Ellie, please."

The two words are quiet. Just a small, short thing.

She nods. Reaching for the smaller of the two bags, shoving it into her own backpack.

Trying to be quiet as she zips it up, fitting it back on her shoulders over the heavy, plum-colored coat.

Waiting at the door as he does the same, before the front door is opening. Letting her step out first, those scarves wrapped tight around their noses, still smelling like the cabin. Like her.

His fingers reach up - a quick brush against the steel horseshoe above the door. Like he’s watched her do. For luck, she said.

And then, he's shutting the door behind them.

"It's west, to Salt Lake City." Joel nods, as she follows behind, "Let's get Callus, and see how far we can get today."

And they start off together - again.

———

You wake alone.

You were expecting it - it was the right call.

But it still hurts.

The spot next to you is cool, but there's still an indent in the pillow where he laid next to you. Last night and all those ones before.

The spot smelling like him, and you resist the urge to bury your face in it. To just stay in bed, all day. Maybe forever.

You can't be upset - you were the one who said no. The offer had been small, but it had been there.

But it was too complicated. Too dangerous.

You both knew that the world was like now.

These weeks had been a reprieve. A moment you never should have had, because the world doesn't work with kindness anymore.

Better to appreciate, remember fondly, and then - move on.

So you busy yourself, instead. Catching up on things put on hold for all those weeks.

Taking stock of what you'll need.

Trying not to think too much about the heavy mass in your stomach - to wonder if it’s grief, or if it’s regret.

So instead, you turn roll your sleeves up. Tackling the plates and pans and mess of shining, silvers forks and spoons.

The stack slowly dwindling, until everything is in its place again.

It's mid-afternoon when you finally sit. On the far left-side of the couch, though there's room for you to spread out, now. Looking out the window at the path that leads to the gate.

Wondering if footprints remain in the snow.

Wondering if the weather has been kind to them.

Wrapping a blanket around you as you reach for the book that you've only snatched small moments of, thinking you'll finally get a chance to finish it.

It falls open, to the middle. A folded piece of paper tucked between the pages, at a different spot than the scrap piece working as a bookmark.

Curiously, you unfold it.

Words scrawled neatly across the page. The handwriting you don't recognize, but you still know it, because it reminds you of him.

Taking a long second to memorize the way your name looks in his writing, before you read the rest.

I know what we talked about.

If you change your mind, I got a brother in Jackson.

It's good place, with good people. They'd take care of you.

Just mention my name to Tommy.

Might find our way back there, when all this is over.

Yours,

Joel

You read it, again and again. Something twisting in your stomach, curling into knots. Catching in your chest.

Thinking about everything. About all the years you’ve spent here - a prison and a sanctuary. About that walk in the woods. His words.

They ain’t coming back.

What if there was more?

A long while passes, before you slowly unfold yourself.

Crouching down by the old bookcase. Looking past the spines of books and comics - the briefest of smiles at the memory, before you're reaching for that stack of old maps.

Dragging one out onto the kitchen table.

Unfolding the creased, worn pages.

Your finger dips over the valleys. Finding your home, nestled in the woods and mountains.

Then, dragging it slowly - finding the roads, the highways.

Tracing a path towards Jackson.

Would love to know what you thought of this series / this ending! 💕 thank you again for reading! edit: okay, not quite the end! There is an epilogue up now, linked on the masterlist.

#the end! 💖#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction

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stevetonyisendgame · 1 year

Text

It's the first day of work reveals for A Second Chance: A Steve/Tony Endgame Mini-Exchange and we have 8 fics and 1 artwork today!

Thank you to all participants - we’re so excited to share all these beautiful gifts with you! Enjoy and remember to leave kudos/comments for our hardworking creators to show your appreciation!! ❤️

A reminder to our dear creators that you can change the publication date of your works now that they have been revealed, so that they appear on the first page of the tags!

1. as easy as breathing for purpleicedteas | ART - T

things aren't easy after thanos but steve and tony have each other.

2. In Our Hands for CapBlondette | FIC - 1.6k, T

Memories slowly appeared in his mind. The battle. The way he’d taken the gauntlet from Thanos. Peter who was suddenly by his side. And Steve. The snap. But not much after. He only remembered the blinding light and the power in his hand, as well as the pain.

3. I Tell You That I Think I'm Falling (Back in Love with You) for tinystark616 | FIC - 6.3k, E

When Tony said “I have to get it out of the garage before Morgan takes it sledding.” as he gave the shield back to Steve, not in a million years the thought it would actually happen. Yet there it was, right in front of him, ‘the one that got away’ playing with his daughter in the snow, shield by their side dutifully waiting for them to get back on top of it.

4. Endgame, Not Checkmate for Herogers | FIC - 8.6k, T

“Tony?” Steve asks as Tony immediately taps his screen to life, calling up the specs for what looks like a new set of his nanite armour. “Um… aren’t you going to take it easy for a while?” Tony frowns at Steve over the top of the screen. “Ah, no? Why would I do that?” “Maybe because you almost died?” Steve blurts out. “I mean, just yesterday you were—!” “Yeah, you're right,” Tony cuts in. “But that was yesterday. And since now it’s today, and, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine, then I need to get back to working on some stuff.” He shoots Steve a grin, like that somehow makes it okay. “You're welcome to stay and watch if you want.” Against all odds, the Avengers have beaten Thanos. But when Tony fails to see that victory for what it is, Steve decides the only way to get him to see reason is to confess the secret he’s been harbouring for way too long.

5. the things we held on to for ishipallthings | FIC - 790, G

Tony finds out that Steve still has his flip-phone when they're preparing for the time-heist

6. Remember What I Said. for enragedbisexual | FIC - 2.4k, M

Tony and Steve have had to be quiet for more than one reason over the years. Maybe they will get some privacy now the Universe is saved?

7. Real Life for xWinterDreamsx | FIC - 1k, T

“Are we going to talk about that kiss?” Of course it’s Tony who is brave enough to bring it up. --- Tony and Steve both retire after the events of endgame, but they have some unfinished business to take care of.

8. No Lies From The Trusted for navaan | FIC - 17.8k, M

Finding himself in a world where Iron Man has just emerged Steve discovers the unexpected consequences to time travel. Stuck with a new identity, a new life, and an unexpected relationship, some consequences are more complicated than others.

9. hold fast for VenomousSoliloquy | FIC - 1.3k, T

“What?” Steve asks finally, putting down his pencil and staring right back at Tony. “Nothing,” Tony says. Then he reaches out and thumbs at the corner of Steve’s mouth, eyes crinkling when Steve’s eyes go very wide. “So serious, you.”

#stevetony #stony #superhusbands #steve x tony #steve rogers x tony stark #endgame event #announcement #endgame event reveals day 1

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idolatrybarbie · 5 months

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pairing: santa!francisco "frankie" morales x fem!reader

word count & rating: 2.4k words | explicit - minors dni

summary: more santa frankie porn anyone?

tags: santa kink???, free use, spreader bar, creampie, come eating, facefucking, throatpie, anal sex, degradation, cum, pet names (honey, little girl, sweet girl, baby), praise, CUM AGAIN GUYS LIKE IDK WHAT HAPPENED HERE.

notes: i have had too much alcohol to edit this so take it as is. this is the part where i tell you i am actually gonna go on hiatus now, no posting from me. merry christmas, and to all a good night!!!!!

The spreader bar has your legs cramping, pulled tight against your body as your knees touch your bare chest. You’re wet, dripping and aching as you wait for him to get back. During the visit this morning, Santa saw to it that your pussy was put to good use, cumming inside you twice before he lapped at what dripped out. He’d left you with a swat on your thigh, promises of turning you into a toaster strudel later on something for you to hang onto.

It’s been hours since then, his cum still leaking from your used hole as you lay spread on this dark oak work bench. By your count, it’s been about a month and a half since the incident at the mall. True to his words, once the holiday season had wrapped, Santa whisked you away from the harsh reality of your real life back to the magical wonderland of Christmasville. Here, you have nothing to worry about—except, of course, swallowing Mr. Claus’ snowy load. Despite your efforts, you have yet to convince him that you’re a good girl. Luckily you’ve still got most of the year to get him to change his mind.

You can hear the soft metal thud of the unlatched security bar falling from its place within the metal frame. Before being turned into an elf’s workshop-slash-playroom, this had been a stable for Dasher, Dancer, and the rest of the fleet. Now, it was where you stayed, getting very little sleep between the raucous orgasms that Santa Claus brought you with the smooth glide of his sugary cane. Your favourite activity was sucking his cock, Santa’s cum settling on your tongue with a slow-rolling sweetness to it.

When the barn doors swing open, he’s there, eyes waiting to take you in.

“You been a good girl while I was gone?” he asks.

“Yes, Mr. Claus,” you say softly.

“Hmm. I don’t know about that, little girl.”

“Please, Santa. I’m a good girl, I promise. I don’t know how I can prove it to you.” The fine links of metal that connect the leather cuffs that bind you to the bar between your legs rattle when you huff.

“In what world do good little girls talk back?” Fra—Santa asks.

He stalks over to your body with pounding steps. Santa rounds the table towards the end closer to your head rather than your pussy. He hauls you to the edge of the work table, your head jutting out from the edge of the surface. Immediately, he begins unbuttoning the front of his striped long johns. Whipping out his stunningly long cock, he rubs the swollen head across the seam of your lips. Sticking your tongue out, you lap at the sugary precum beading at the very tip of him. He pulls it away and smacks the length of himself against your cheek.

“Gotta teach you a lesson about politeness then, huh?”

Santa digs the thumb of his right hand into the crook of your jaw, forcing your mouth open. As soon as your lips part, he’s shoving his cock inside. He blocks your airway with his dick, sliding all the way to the back of your throat. A short thatch of hair tickles your nose.

“That’s right, little girl. Nice and quiet, huh? That’s how I like you.”

He runs the rough pads of his fingers over the skin of your throat, poking it with a firm press to touch himself. The action has you gagging, breaths stuttering as they come out of your nose.a

“Swallow,” Santa instructs you. You do as your told, swallowing around his cock as he rests inside your throat. “Bet you like it when I keep my sleigh in the garage like this. Nestled deep inside of you while you keep my cock warm. S’all you need to do, honey. No need to get all fussy, alright?” he asks.

You try your best to nod, telling him you understand. Still, he isn’t convinced.

“See, you’re hearing me but I don’t think you quite get it. Gotta really—” He withdraws from your mouth the slightest bit, only to slam back in with force from his hips. You choke again. “—communicate the point. Drive it home.”

He sets a punishing pace fucking your face, using your mouth for all it’s worth. Every time your throat bobs with a swallow, he squeezes your neck. The diminished airflow keeps you hazy, lightheaded as your vision swims. The sight and smell of him taking you like this has you wetter than the Atlantic Ocean, slick dripping from you down the seam of your ass.

“My little baby think’s she knows what’s best, huh? Only I get to determine when you’ve been a good girl. I know you think you are, but trust—fuck—trust me. Santa knows.”

Those words have you moaning around him, drool gathering on your lips and at the corners of your mouth.

“Gonna give you a little treat, alright? See how you like it.”

With another few thrusts, he’s spilling his silky load down your throat. Santa grunts roughly as each stripe paints your gullet. When he’s finished, he gives your cheek a gentle slap.

“Good job, honey,” he says as he slips out of you.

Hauling air into your lungs, your throat feels clogged. Cheekily, you blow him a bubble with the remnants left in your mouth. This earns you a rare-sought smile as he pops it, sticking his thumb in your mouth to suck. You lave your tongue over the ridges of it slowly, watching as Santa tucks his balls and cock into his fleece pants once again.

“You’re learning,” he whispers. From down here, it almost sounds endearing.

Santa uses the leverage on your head to push you back onto the table fully, the back of your skull resting against the warm table. Then he moves to the other end of your body, unlocking the small locks along the cuffs to release your hands and feet. Instinctively, you curl into yourself, nursing the spasming pain in your muscles.

You’re shocked when Santa engulfs your body in his arms, picking you up from the table in a cradling position.

“How does a nice hot bath sound?” he asks.

“Good, Santa. I’d like that,” you say. “Please and thank you.”

“Aw, honey. Bein’ a good little whore teaching you some manners, is it?”

He carries you from the shed-workshop, shielding your body from the Christmasville cold with the fluffy fabric of his coat sleeve.

“That’s a fuckin’ good girl,” Santa groans. You’re on his knees for him, panting against the table as you crane your neck to get a look at him. His eyes are trained to your rear, watching as he feeds his cock past the tight rim of your ass.

Your pussy flutters at the alluring sight, Mr. Claus purely enraptured as you take him into your body. He settles in your hole, pausing to savour the restricting warmth around his already spent cock. He’s been out here for a while, fucking your throat to train you out of that pesky gagging habit. Then he’d moved onto your pussy, giving it some well-deserved attention (his words) and wringing two orgasms from you.

“You’ve got a cute little cookie,” he says. “But nothing can beat the feel of this tight ass, honey.”

“Please, Mr. Claus. I need it,” you whisper.

“You’ll get it, little girl. Gonna be leaking pure Christmas Claus from all of your sweet fuckholes in no time.”

When he moves, he starts off slow, the glide aided by a generous helping of your slick, his cum, and some sort of sparkling lubricant.

“Snowman tears, honey. This shit will keep you slicker than egg nog.”

Each slow thrust has you moaning softly, the new sensation of fullness almost too much for your brain to process. You can’t think straight—not that you do much of that too often anymore anyway. Santa keeps a solid grip on your hips as he spears you, moans growing louder with each slide in and out of your asshole.

“Anyone ever had a piece of this brownie back here, little girl?”

“N-no, Mr. Claus. Just you.”

“That’s very nice to hear,” Santa says. “Ho ho, baby. This might just be enough to get you off that naughty list.”

Another thrust has you muttering a curse.

“Or not,” he says. “Sometimes I think you wanna stay there, honey.”

God, yes. Absolutely. If being bad gets you all of this? You’ll stay naughty forever.

Santa picks up speed, hand slithering down your side to find your clit. He takes advantage of your soaking folds, swiping a finger between them before returning it to your swollen nub. He pinches and pulls at it for a moment, more painful than pleasurable, before swirling around it with his index in time with every thrust.

Your forehead wrinkles as you draw your brows together, focusing on the candied coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your low belly. Squeezing your ass around him earns you a drawn out moan and a harsh slap on your left cheek.

“Fuckin’ little whore, aren’t you baby? Born for this, eh? Shit, this hot little ass is gonna be full of me.”

“Please Santa. Mr. Claus, I need it.”

“How bad do you need me, little girl? How bad d’you need your Santa?” he asks.

Your Santa. Like Mrs. Claus isn’t his wife, like the world doesn’t turn on his holiday dial. If he’s yours right now, there’s no way you’ll ever get to keep him.

“So bad, Santa. I need it so, so bad. Need to take it. Feel it drip out of me.”

You gasp with a particularly harsh thrust, teeth set on the edge of your lip. He flops over your back, chest meeting your spine as he turns you into a festive twinkie. When he’s done emptying himself inside you, Santa pulls his cock out of you in one go. You can feel it dribble past your fucked out sphincter, leaving dots of icing at the edges of your pussy.

He runs a soothing hand down your spine, moving around the work table to take your face into his hands.

“Santa’s little girl,” he coos. You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or not. When he slips two fingers past your lips, you forget about it instantly.

He takes them away just as quickly, returning to your ass as Santa gathers his cum that’s spilled out of you and presses it back into your hole. Over-sensitivity rocks your body in waves, each gentle push of him of him cramming cum back inside giving you shivers.

You lay on the floor, thick blankets beneath you as you look up. Santa holds himself over you, inside of you, panting into the crux of your neck. You can still feel him pulsing, thick cock stretching you open as he grits his teeth through his orgasm. When he’s finished, he carefully pulls away from you to lay on his back beside you.

“You’re a good girl, honey,” he says. You can feel his cum start to leak back out of you.

“You think so?” you ask.

“I know so,” Santa says. “Don’t play coy. You know it too.”

You roll onto your side, hips parallel with the floor. Holding your head up with your arm, your eyes find his. “Then why am I still here?”

It’s been months. By now, it must be nearing the warmer months of the year in places unlike Christmasville—which stays bitterly cold all year long. If he knows that you’re good, if you’ve earned a spot on the nice list…why has he kept you?

“I’ve grown a little fond of you, I guess.” You give him a curious look. “Lonely out here for an old man.”

He doesn’t look that old, but you don’t comment on it. Instead, you say, “It gets lonely back home for me too.”

“I can’t imagine how that’s true,” Santa says.

You stretch your legs, toes bending as his sticky spend smears between your thighs. “I don’t know how to explain it. Kind of like a resounding emptiness. Everyone’s moving a little too fast to catch them in time. Here, it’s…slower. You’ve got a moment to appreciate the little things.”

The soft line of his jaw, the white-grey beard that he keeps trimmed shorter now than when you first met. The way his eyes roll back when you twirl your tongue in tricks around his cock, or the smile he gives you when a particular moan of yours spurs him on further. Not yours, not yours, not yours. Mr. Claus is not the present he promised you. He is a man and myth covered in red tape—do not touch. Even though that’s literally all the two of you ever do.

Santa Claus lets out a deep yawn, pulling at the white whiskers of his mustache above his lip. He’s only clothed from the waist up, his plush coat unbuttoned as it hangs loose by his hips.

He blinks a few times, eyes finding yours. “Come here, little girl.”

Santa motions you closer to him. You scoot across the soft fabric—had he said it was polar bear pelt?—and let him envelope you with his arms.

Your relationship has evolved much beyond the simple terms of Santa and his little toy. The sex is gentler, and he shows up more often now. Sometimes in the middle of the night, when you’re half asleep and drowsy. Your encounters don’t always start with sex now, either. Cuddling, gentle caresses to the skin of your throat and clavicle. He always holds you as he does now, a sense of dread crawling through your gut as you anticipate when Santa will take his leave.

You don’t love Santa Claus. That thought alone is insane. But then again, none of this makes a lot of sense in the first place. Sure, he’s married. Sure, he is the most prolific gift-giver of contemporary western culture, a holly jolly icon for children and corporations everywhere. He is already everyone else’s. Does that mean he can’t be yours, too?

Santa presses a kiss to your shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts. His cum is still seeping out of you, his cock wet and spent against the back of your thigh. These aren’t things to think about right now. Another time.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories #fic: dashing through the ho #triple frontier

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h-c-u · 1 year

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The kids are alright pt 4

Summary: Domestic life with Iceman and your daughter

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x reader

W/C: ~800

Rating: PG

TWs: None

A/N: This is going to be the last part of this series for a while now, but I might come back to it in the future :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | List of tags

- It's been a whole month since we brought you home, and if I'm being completely honest, I forgot that I wanted to make some homemade videos for you to watch when you grow up... Having you with us is honestly the best thing ever. Don't get me wrong, you're keeping us busy, but that's every newborn, so don't take it the wrong way. - you couldn't help but smile at the camera. You were sitting alone at your daughter's nursery while your husband was taking care of Astrea and letting you have a few moments just for yourself. - I know it sounds cheesy and corny, but I swear it's true - everyone loves you so much... Your grandparents, uncle Bradley, auntie Flo, uncle Slider, uncle Mav... I can't think of a time when we weren't alone, and you were in a crib... Everyone wants to hold you and play with you... Well, play is maybe too strong of a word just yet, but you developed a fascination with ripping paper and gods forbid if anyone leaves loose pages in your reach. - you laughed out loud. - Your tata found that out the hard way because you got your hands on some classified documents and started shredding them while he was on the phone. - you smiled, an echo of the laughter still audible in your voice.

- Anyways... I just wanted to tell you that no matter if in 15 years we'll be fighting about stupid things, or be mad as hell at each other for some reason or another, I'll still love you very much. I don't know if we'll ever watch those tapes together, or if you'll find them on your own somewhere in a closet and watch them in secret, I want you to know, that there is nothing you could do or say to change that, and even if we're at each other throats, you could still tell me what's troubling you, and I really hope that you will. - you smiled at the camera and turned it off. But after only a few seconds you turned it back off. - Oh, and if you find those tapes first, please just say "blueberries" next time we'll be talking, because we have a small bet with your dad about you being curious and a bit nosy, and I honestly want to win. And there might be ice cream and pizza for you in it if you will. Ok, that's it for now. Kocham cię... - you turned off the camera, but you still wanted to catch Astrea with Ice.

You started learning polish not long after you met Tom, and even though your accent was abysmal at times, you could carry on a conversation without much trouble, even with Tom's parents, and it was their native language. And when you were still pregnant, you two agreed to raise Astrea with both English and Polish present in her life. That's why both of you were already reading her stories in both languages and peppering in polish words while talking to her.

You quietly came down the stairs, because even though your amazing husband gave you time to rest, you preferred spending time with them.

You couldn't help but smile when you noticed what was happening in the living room. You turned the camera back on and pointed it at the two most important people in your life because they looked so adorable. Astrea was quietly napping on Tom's chest, still wrapped in a blanket you fed her in, and Tom just watched her with pure amazement and fascination painted all over his face, as if he still couldn't believe that she was actually here.

He caught you in a corner of his eye, turned toward the camera, and gave you a giant smile.

- Don't wake the child... She just fell asleep... - he whispered and you couldn't help but chuckle, because it just hit you how far he has grown from his callsign. You filmed them for just a few seconds longer, finally turned off the camera for good and placed it on the coffee table. You grabbed a book you were reading yesterday evening, gently moved the pillow from under Tom's head, and replaced it with your thighs.

- Go to sleep, baby... - you leaned and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. He was up almost all night working, with your daughter sleeping soundly in his arms, and you had to take over only a few times to feed her, but now... Now he could fall asleep without any worries...

If you didn't know any better, you might have proposed that he move to the bedroom, but you knew there was nothing that would convince him to move when there was even the slightest possibility that he could wake up Astrea. So instead, you started playing with his hair with your right hand, while you were holding the book in your left. You could see his face relaxing almost instantly, and his whole body melted deeper into the sofa while you were gently massaging his scalp.

#my writing #Top Gun Fanfiction #Tom Kazansky fic #Tom Kazansky x reader #Tom Iceman Kazansky x reader #Tom Iceman Kazansky fanfiction #iceman x reader #🖤#iceman fanfiction

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silverhairsimp · 2 years

Text

Hajime Iwaizumi x reader

Here's my submission for @hanmas When Nobody's Home Collab (I AM SO SORRY IT'S SO LATE).

CW: MINORS DO NOT ENTER! 18+ stepcest, panty sniffer!Iwa, panty thief!Iwa, noncon, somnophilia, vaginal fingering, oral (f.receiving), car sex, unprotected sex, creampie, jealous stepbro!iwa, alcohol consumption (all characters written are in their last year of college and over the age of 21). Let me know if I missed anything in the tags/warnings.

WC: 7.7k (AND IT IS GOOD TO BE BACK!)

ALMOST FORGOT. SHOUT OUT TO @weebaboobs for beta reading for me 🧡 ily bb

Summers home from college always mean the same thing: coming back and being forced to live with your step brother as if the two of you are in high school again, fighting over a shared bathroom and waking up every morning right across the hall from one another. It’s as if nothing’s changed since those first few weeks of living together after your mom and his dad decided to tie the knot. Tensions were high and neither of you thrilled about no longer being the only child. Never being able to shake the feeling as if you can’t escape each other’s presence no matter where you went in the house.

Except one thing has changed…

His friends treat you differently now. Before, you were just Iwaizumi’s little sister. Someone they loved to pick on, constantly snickering at the way you’d get upset over their incessant teasing, always talking about you behind their back.

But now? You’re no longer the wing-spiker’s little sister… you’re you.

A mature, young woman that grew very nicely into her body; filling out each and every curve perfectly.

So it’s no surprise that his friends are at the doorstep of your family’s shared home almost every day, suggesting beach trips or pool parties. Hell, even backyard movie nights - anything to see you in a swimsuit or those skimpy little sleep shorts you were notorious for wearing.

It was so annoying for your step brother, having all of his friends fawn over you like that. And Iwaizumi never understood… Oikawa has a parade of girls following him everywhere, so why is he so infatuated with you? Matsukawa’s no better - Iwaizumi was sure you had heard the rumors about him and all he has to offer, convinced the pretentious ass just wants to prove to you that they’re true.

So, when your mom and step dad texted that they’d be vacationing in Europe all summer, that meant two things: his friends adamantly trying to spend time with you, and an entire summer alone with your step brother.

There would be no one to mediate the fights the two of you were guaranteed to get into. No one to break the tension between you and your brother - something the two of you have ignored for as long as you can remember. No one to keep his friends in check when they think about getting a little too forward with you. And no one to run to when it all became too much, because no one else would be around.

Your brother returned home before you did, his University ending their semester two weeks before yours. So when you finally pulled up to the house, it was no surprise to see three familiar cars parked out front. You could hear the TV blaring from the driveway as you grabbed your backpack and suitcase and made your way to the front door.

“Unlocked. Of course.” You grumble to yourself and roll your eyes, letting out a deep sigh before pushing the heavy door open.

Their attention on the screen was hardly broken at the sound of the door opening, and it wasn’t until you slammed it shut that everyone turned to you. Well, almost everyone.

Oikawa was the first to jump over the couch: “y/n, nice to see you again. I could help you bring your stuff to your room, maybe help you unpack…?” He was always so forward and nonchalant.

Matsukawa sat with his arm draped over the back of the couch and did absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he was staring at your tits. You really should’ve known better than to wear a low cut crop top and high waisted jean shorts, which surely did nothing to keep your ass from hanging out.

“Thanks for the offer, but I can handle it myself.” You push past Oikawa, who mutters something about ‘gotta love an independent woman’. You nod your head to Matsukawa who brings his eyes up to meet yours only briefly before going back to checking you out.

Iwaizumi, on the other hand, was still holding the gaming controller and paying you absolutely no mind. You walk over and slap him in the back of the head, “thanks for the warm welcome, asshole.”

He snickers at you and curses, “Look! You fucking made me die!”

To which you respond with a wave of your hand over your shoulder and a “Boo hoo… you were gonna die anyways.”

It was always like this between the two of you: pushing each other's buttons and getting under each other's skin until neither of you could handle it anymore… it was only a matter of who would crack first.

You spend the afternoon taking trips out to your car and back inside, the summer heat getting to you more and more with each trek. Small droplets of sweat roll down your temple and the sinful thoughts that grace the minds of the men on the couch are anything but few and far between. Those thoughts only intensify when you bend over by the front door to take off your shoes, ass on display while you rearrange the ones already discarded there.

With the last bag inside, you head off to your bedroom to start unpacking. There's a bag full of dirty laundry that needs to be washed and a few suitcases that need to be put away. But, after the first one, you’re not sure how much more you have the energy for.

There will be plenty of time later, you think to yourself.

The day is still young, and it’ll be nice and sunny outside for at least a few more hours. You dig through your half unpacked suitcase and pull out a brand new bikini, quickly slipping it on even with your bedroom door cracked open.

You pull a towel out of the hall closet and throw it over your shoulder, purposefully walking in front of the TV and grabbing the attention of three pairs of eyes on your way out to the backyard.

“Gonna go for a swim,” you say, looking directly at Iwaizumi as you take long strides toward the back door, swaying your hips a little more than usual and waiting for at least two of the three men to jump out of their seats and join you.

Oikawa and Matsukawa are quick to follow. There’s not a second of hesitation before they’re shouting a quick “We wanna swim too!” and darting out the door, leaving Iwaizumi inside all alone.

He knew he should’ve waited to invite those two over.. now he’s never going to have any alone time with you. He can’t seem to wrap his head around what he's feeling. It doesn’t make sense: why he’s so irritated. Even with trying to focus on the game, he can’t help the way his eyes flit over his shoulder every time he hears your laugh and the warmth it brings to his chest.

Why is he so jealous of Matsukawa hovering behind you? And the way he takes far too long to rub the sunscreen into your shoulders. Why does he feel so possessive when Oikawa puts a hand on your knee? He shouldn’t be acting like this over his step sister… but, maybe that’s why… you’re his step sister. His. He can’t resist the urge anymore, he wants to be the one to put his hands all over you. He wants to be the one to rub the sunscreen into your smooth skin. He wants to be the one with his hand on your thigh, or perhaps pinning you down underneath him and holding you open by them instead.

Iwaizumi grumbles to himself, sick of his own self pity, and finally gets up, walking down the hall and stopping in front of his door. He reaches out for the door knob before looking over his shoulder. He shouldn’t be turning around and walking towards your room instead, but he is. He pokes his head inside to see the organized mess strewn across the floor. The different piles of clothes, the half folded ones still in your suitcase… but one thing really catches his eye: a light teal g-string sitting right on top of your laundry pile.

He can’t help but wonder if you wore it on your way home, and before he can stop himself, he’s opening your door even further, taking two strides in and picking them up in his hand. He starts to bring them to his face until the sound of the sliding back door pulls him out of his trance. He’s almost positive he hears Oikawa beg for you to stay and keep him company, but his distance from the back door makes it difficult to accurately hear.

Quickly, he shoves your panties into his pocket and makes sure to leave your door cracked the same amount as when he first went in.

He heads back into his own room and pulls out a pair of swim trunks, officially deciding that he wasn’t going to let his friends have all the fun with you. He pulls your panties out of his pocket and shoves them inside his pillow case for safekeeping and throws his comforter over the top. He tosses his shirt in the hamper just as soon as you appear in the doorway of his room:

“You really shouldn’t change with the door open, never know who could be watching…” His cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink at the insinuation behind your surprisingly seductive words and he turns around before his body gives too much away.

The way you lean against the door frame: arms crossed and wearing hardly anything, the curve of your hips and your smooth legs… it's like you’re begging for his touch. The idea of running his hands all over your body stirs something deep within him - something he’s not quite sure he’s ready to give in to and acknowledge yet. His brows furrow as he looks over to the secret he’s keeping under his pillow, and he can’t help but think how you’d look standing in the doorway in that same teal g-string. He clears his throat but refuses to turn back around to look at you, “thought you were going swimming.”

“I was, but then I thought about how boring it was without you there. Issei and Tooru can only keep me entertained for so long,” a heavy sigh leaves your lips, “just wanted you to come out and join us for some real fun.” And with that, you push off the door frame and make your way back outside, disappearing down the hall without another word.

Iwaizumi mutters those words back to himself, real fun…? What the hell could you mean by that?

The rest of the evening is spent by the poolside, laughing, drinking, exchanging stares with your step-brother that say so much, yet so little at the same time. By now, you’ve lost count of the numbers of beers that the four of you have gone through, as well as the number of pickup lines Oikawa has seemingly “blessed” you with. If you had to take a guess, the numbers are pretty evenly matched.

With your buzz starting to get to you, you head inside to get some food, thankful that there were plenty of leftovers still in the fridge. You pull out a dish, grab a plate and set it in the microwave to heat up. Your elbows rest on the cold surface of the counter as you aimlessly scroll through your phone, catching up with social media and responding to text threads letting your friends know you’re back home for the summer.

You wouldn’t’ve heard the sliding door being shut even if you were listening for it. Too encapsulated in that little device to notice that your step brother had come back inside to check on you.

And he is definitely checking on you.

Watching as the thong of your swimsuit rides up even higher with each sway of your hips. The way your legs and ass flex everytime you rock from your heels to your toes. He can’t bring himself to say anything, not when the only thoughts in his head are filthy ones of you.

He tries to mask the disappointment on his face when the timer goes off and you move to grab your plate out of the microwave. Out of the corner of your eye you finally notice him. “Oh, hey Haji, how long have you been standing there?” your eyes meet and you can’t help but notice the little red tint in his cheeks, wondering if it's from the alcohol or maybe something else…

“Just walked in actually, wanted to let you know the boys are staying the night.” He says as he rubs the back of his neck, squinting his eyes just a bit to try and get another peek at your hardly covered body without making it too obvious.

You laugh and shake your head, “I’ll make sure to lock my door tonight then.”

He laughs nervously along with you and asks himself, would you lock your door if it were just him? Would you purposefully leave it cracked in hopes he’d come in? He considers tampering with the lock, guaranteeing himself some sort of access if he ever wanted it… and fuck, does he want it. He supposes he’ll have to wait until the next time he gets to spend with you alone to find out.

Time seems to pass by exceptionally fast after the four of you had called it a night. Freshly showered and with the rest of your stuff put away, you poke your head out of your door once more.

Just across the hall, you can see the subtle glow of your brother's TV through the crack of his door. Muffled laughs and not-so-quiet gaming taunts reach your ears as your step brother and his friends continue their night away from you.

You chew on your cheek and shift your feet where you stand, debating whether or not you should actually lock your door tonight... It couldn’t hurt to leave it open, could it? Would it really be that bad if one of them were to come in during the night? Especially if there was a chance that the one was your step brother…

–

The next day went by much faster than you’d planned. The morning was spent with your face buried in the same text thread from last night, making plans with your friends to go out to a new club that had opened while all of you were away at school.

All of the boys kept to themselves until right before you were getting ready to go out. Since your step brother was so considerate to have company over, you invited your friends to get ready at your place.

He thought that a good nights sleep and some advil would be enough to sober up his thoughts of you, but he can’t fight off the sudden feeling of irritability he has. He doesn’t want you to go out with your friends and he doesn’t want his friends here. Having you alone is the only thing crossing his mind, and the fact that he can’t have that frustrates him even more. You don’t belong to him… he shouldn’t be so selfish as to not let you go out with your friends. But there’s a part of him that thinks you should belong to him.

He now sits on the couch with his knee bouncing and his shoulders raised to his ears in frustration at the music that’s playing far too loud in your room and the obvious amounts of alcohol you’re already consuming.

It was always the fucking same, he thinks to himself with the palms of his hands pressed to his eyes. You get way too drunk and call him in the middle of the night begging to be picked up. There’s no way he’d let it happen again - not this time. But when you finally reappear in the entryway of the door, all frustrations he had suddenly disappear when he sees you. Maybe he won’t let you leave at all.

Everything about you makes his head spin: the way your hair’s styled perfectly, and the fact that your dress is entirely too short for anyone's eyes but his. He can’t even consider tearing his gaze away from your smooth legs and how toned they look flexing in those heels you’re wearing.

But before he has any time to protest, you're already offering him one last smile as you walk out the door.

He flops back on the couch with a dramatic huff, staring at the ceiling as he thinks of all the ways this night could possibly go.

Even with his friends keeping him occupied at the house, he can’t help but check his phone every 5 minutes looking for updates from you. The occasional snap chat notification comes through, but it’s nothing personal to him.

It’s shameful, really, how many times he has to excuse himself to his room or the bathroom just to replay the video on your story. The way you hold your phone above you, getting the perfect angle to capture your body in that dress, showing off the sway of your hips for the camera.

Were you doing this for all your friends on social media? Maybe for yourself? Or was it for him?

He’s lost track of the number of times he’s swiped up to respond to what you’re posting. But nothing seems right to say. He can’t be too forward, unaware of what you want, or what you think of him… but most importantly, he’s your step brother! He shouldn’t be having any of these thoughts in the first place…

The minutes turn to hours and he comes to the realization that he really just needs to sleep it off. Whatever it is. He pads off to his room, leaving Oikawa and Matsukawa on the couch with their half eaten boxes of pizza and empty bottles of beer.

For the first few minutes, Iwaizumi lays on his back looking up at the ceiling, so many thoughts running through his mind, but he can’t decide on any to dissect. He wonders what you’re doing right now and who you’re with. Are you with your friends still? Or is someone else taking up all your time?

He picks up a pillow and smashes it against his face, holding it there for a second as he tries to figure out why he cares so much about anything you’re doing tonight. His eyes slowly start to drift shut, too tired and confused to think about this any further, until something else catches his attention.

He lifts the pillow off his face and digs inside the case, pulling out the little piece of clothing he took from your room yesterday. With all the time to himself, he brings your panties to his nose and inhales deeply. His eyes shouldn’t be rolling to the back of his head at your scent, but goddamnit, why did you have to smell so sweet?

He’s got half a mind to use them to get himself off, but he can’t ruin them. He’ll find something else to get off to later. Maybe you’ll even help him with it?

It’s almost 2 am when the sound of his phone vibrating against his night stand wakes him up. He rolls over, smirking at your panties he still had wrapped around his fist before reaching a hand out to flip his phone face up to see your caller ID. His first instinct is to answer, but he told himself he wouldn't do this again. He won’t come to your rescue, especially when he has all these thoughts to sort through.

He hits the decline button, flipping his phone face down until his room goes dark again. He pulls the covers over his head in an attempt to resist any further temptation, and that's when he hears it:

Ringing interrupted by a wave of text messages:

Haaaaaajiiiiiii

I know its late

I’m so so so ssorry

Can you pleeease come pick me up :((

By the time he actually answers the phone, he’s ready to tell you to quit bothering him and find your own ride home. But, those words are caught in his throat when he hears a voice on the other line. One that doesn’t belong to any of the friends you left with, or any one he knows.

“Just come home with me sweetheart… Y’don’t need anyone else t’come n’get’cha…”

He can’t believe he’s actually considering coming to get you. “Damn y/n, haven’t even been home a few days and already you’re planning on going home with strangers?” He huffs a laugh on the other line like his words were meant to prove something.

“Shut up! That’s why I called you…” your voice sounds desperate. So needy. He finds it cute.

Iwaizumi is too quiet for far too long on the other line, so you speak up again, “Would you prefer I call Tooru or Issei instead? I’m sure they’d come get me in a heartbeat… on second thought, maybe i will go home wi–”

He cuts you off before you can get another word out, “’m on my way.”

You hang up the phone with a grin on your face, not even sorry to be telling the stranger you won’t be joining him tonight.

The whole drive over he can’t help but think about what would’ve happened if he didn’t answer your call.

There was no way he was gonna let you, his sweet little step sister, go home with some asshole that only wanted one thing. And for fucks sake, his friends? If only you knew the things they said about you - the things they wanna do to you, he’d never admit it but, most of them he’d like to do to you himself…

Iwaizumi had every intention of ignoring you, but when you mentioned them, and when he thought about anyone else having you tonight, it made his stomach turn.

It was only about 20 minutes before Iwaizumi was pulling up to the curb outside the club. He opens the door to his truck with gritted teeth, trying to compose himself at the sight of some random guy's arm still slung around your shoulder and his face far too close for comfort.

He opens up the passenger side door, “y/n. Let’s go.”

You take a few steps toward the truck, only to be pulled back by your hand, “C’mon baby, you don’t gotta go with him.”

Quickly retracting your hand as you pick up the pace and make it to the door he’s holding open for you. As soon as you take that step up into the truck, Iwa makes sure to move behind you to block the view before you flash anyone still watching. Maybe he selfishly wanted that view all to himself.

Once he’s back in the car, the ride is quiet, neither of you saying much of anything. There’s a soft clattering of your heels being taken off and dropping to the floorboard. Your head is spinning, from both the alcohol and the unspoken tension that's filling the car right now.

Instead of saying anything, you lean your head against the cool glass of the window and pull your feet into the seat. Thankfully there’s just enough room to tuck them under the middle seat that’s folded down to separate you from your step brother.

You don’t remember being this tired, but after situating yourself, the quiet hum of the engine and the music playing in the background is enough to lull you to sleep.

Iwaizumi does his best to keep his eyes on the road, but as soon as he hears you take that deep breath and let out a little hum, he can’t help the way his focus shifts towards you.

He watches the slow rise and fall of your chest and the way your tits strain against your dress. His eyes follow down where your dress is cinched at the curve of your waist until his gaze lands on something else… something much more interesting than anything else on the road.

He’s sure you hadn’t realized it, but when you pulled your feet up you exposed a completely different part of your body. Something that he’s been dying to see for as long as he can remember… Peeking out of your short dress, is your pretty little pussy, covered in the thinnest lace he thinks he’s ever seen.

Without even thinking twice about it, he reaches for the folded seat in the middle and lifts, now creating a perfect bench in the front seat of his truck. He couldn’t bring himself to pull his eyes away.

It was no wonder you had some random guy hanging off of you all night. He’s not sure he would’ve been able to contain himself had he seen you like this earlier. This was exactly why he had to step in, no one else was, or is, going to have you.

It was wrong, he knew it was, but he almost didn't have control over the way his hand stretched out toward you. His thumb rests on the underside of your ass, gently spreading you apart as tries to get a better look at the outline of your puffy lips.

If it weren’t for the upcoming stop sign, he’s sure he would’ve kept his attention between your legs. Perhaps he should be thankful for the stop sign in the middle of the night with absolutely no one around…

With each second that passes, he can’t help but think about how you feel, how you taste… He knows your guys’ house is only a few more minutes away, but no matter what he does to distract himself and get the two of you home, he can’t pull his focus away from you.

He turns the air conditioner up just a little higher and the music up just a bit louder. Even tries to fidget with his phone, but he can’t. It’s no use, not when you’re here… like this.

Your legs begin to shift a little bit just as he passes the house and he doesn’t want this to end, so he keeps driving. Wanting to keep you asleep so he has time to sort out these thoughts in his head and the aching in his pants.

Once you’ve fallen back into a comfortable sleep, he reaches out to you again and settles a hand right on the side of your thigh. His thumb circles the bottom of your ass, each stroke threatening to go lower and lower until he reaches the edge of your panties. The closer he gets to your core, the more he can feel heat radiating from it.

Can you feel what he’s doing to you? Do you like it? He wishes he could bring himself to wake you up and ask you, but he can’t. Not yet.

He inhales deeply and grips the steering wheel impossible tight as he lets his thumb trace along the edge of the lace. His exhale comes out shaky, he's not sure if it’s because he’s nervous or because he knows how wrong this is. It’s probably a combination of both.

He drives like this for a bit: making slow turns down poorly lit roads, keeping his hand in place and working his way a bit lower every few miles. There’s not a single car in sight as he approaches another stop sign.

He presses gently on the breaks and rolls to a stop, his focus is right where his thumb rests against your skin. He puts his truck in park, but keeps the engine idling as he takes in another deep breath before moving his thumb across your slit.

The touch ghosts over you, hardly even there but he feels you. The growing wet spot starts to show, even with the darkness of night surrounding the two of you. He repeats the motion and adds more pressure with each deliberate drag of his thumb.

The slick building up on his thumb only makes him want more– more of this and more of you. He spreads the wetness up your slit and circles your clit through your panties.

“Hnngh– H-Haji-me…”

He freezes when he hears you mutter his name… but your eyes are still closed when he looks over at you. There’s no way his thoughts can be right, but there’s no other explanation. You think about him too, he convinces himself.

Part of him wants to wake you up so you can both enjoy this moment, and the other wants to see how much he can get away with while you're still asleep.

For the first time, he pulls the fabric between his fingers and lays his eyes on your bare cunt. Strings of slick still connect your lower lips to your thong as he pulls it away. He’s surprised you don’t wake up once the rush of cool air from the ac hits you, but he’s not complaining one bit.

His throat bobs as he swallows thickly at the sight of you, he mutters a soft fuck before he licks his lips. Wanting nothing more than to dive in and eat you out like he’s been wanting to for months– hell, years!

The temptation is hitting him full force as he spreads your lips open with two fingers. Your clenching little hole practically begging to be filled by him. He thinks of all the things he’d do to you: the way he’d take it nice and slow, starting off with one finger, then adding another, maybe one more after that. Maybe he’d prep you, but he’s living for the thought of stretching you open with his cock and as much resistance as possible with how tight you’d be.

He wonders how greedily you’d suck him in, how politely – or pathetically – you’d beg for more. His thoughts are short lived once you start to shuffle around again. Mindlessly rubbing your thighs together before you crack open your eyes and look at him.

Iwaizumi should be ashamed and embarrassed that he’d practically been caught touching you like this, but he's almost relieved. Relieved enough to finally see the way your eyes roll to the back of your head once he gets the chance to bury his fingers knuckle deep inside of you. Relieved to finally be able to hear that pretty voice telling him what makes you feel good and where you need his touch.

He starts to pull his hand away, thinking maybe the two of you should talk about this or at least acknowledge what he’s doing. To his surprise, and your own, you reach out to grab his wrist, keeping his hand in place.

“Haji… did you want something?” you’re clearly giving him a chance to answer honestly but he’s almost frozen. Unsure what to do or say until you pull his hand even closer.

He clears his throat and rubs a finger up and down your slit, just like he had before you woke up. “Yeah… I uh– you. I want you.”

“Mmm, me? What about me?” you’re teasing him and he’s almost getting impatient. He’s had a hard on since he first saw your thong peeking out from under your dress and the teasing is making him even more impatient.

“Why don’t you sit up and come over here for me? I’ll show you exactly what I want.” He's already this worked up, he can hold out for a bit longer…

You shift in your seat and spread open your legs before settling on your knees in the middle. A large hand grips your inner thigh as his fingers trail further up until his hand is cupping your pussy under your dress.

“Y’know how many conversations Oikawa and Matsukawa have had about you? How if they were your step brother… you’d technically not be related by blood so it wouldn’t be weird to fulfill all the fantasies they’ve had about you… I’m starting to think they’re onto something.” Rough fingers press even harder against you and by the way you pull your dress up even further, to a point where it's bunched around your waist, he can tell you’re on the same page.

“You think about touching me? Doing all sorts of dirty things to me, hm?” Your hands play with the shorts strands of hair right above his ears and his eyes start to close as he leans into your touch.

“Most of my thoughts are about you. It’s real fuckin’ annoying.” There's a smile on his lips when he says it. He knows that he’s more so annoyed with the fact that he hasn’t been able to do anything about it, but that’s all about to change right now. “You know, you were mumbling my name in your sleep… guess i’m not the only one who thinks about my step sibling.”

There's a wicked smirk on his face and your cheeks start to redden, he thinks it’s a good look on you and he wants to fluster you even more. “Want me to keep touching you like this?”

You nod your head in response, but that's not good enough. “Use your words, or else I stop.”

“Please… don’t stop. Want you to keep touching me.” You pull your hands away from his hair and bring them to your waist. Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your thong and willfully pull it off yourself.

You shift back in the passenger seat like you had before, pulling your knees to your chest and tugging your panties down until they’re hanging around your ankle. You raise your foot in front of his face, allowing him the honors to completely remove them from your body.

He takes them off with a smirk before looking at you and quickly shoves them into his pocket. “Oh, I know you took my panties before…” you smile at him and bend your knees before opening your legs. “The teal g-string… I used to wear that pain to all your games, y'know.”

There’s a redness in his cheeks that you hadn’t seen before. He starts to think about all the games you’d been to over the years, and each time you worse those. “Gonna keep these ones too then, start my own collection.”

“You’re such a pervert…” you say the words but you don’t mean them, not when you’re sitting in the front seat of his truck with your legs spread wide open. There’s a silence between the two of you as he tries not to look down at your perfectly spread legs and what lies between.

He can’t fight it off anymore when he sees your own fingers start to rub little circles around your clit. “I always thought your fingers would feel so much better than mine… wanna help me test that theory?” Now you’re the one with the smirk on your face.

He squares his body to face yours, shifting just enough to where his hip and forearms rest on the seat. “Happily, but I've always wondered something too… wanna taste you first.”

You don’t have anytime to process or oppose the offer before he’s finally diving in between your legs. The flat of his tongue dragging all the way up before his lips wrap around your clit. The sudden pressure forces your hands into his brown roots and you don’t hesitate to tug roughly. Eliciting a groan from him that makes your legs shake.

“’S so fuckin’ good” he growls into your pussy. You taste even better than he could’ve ever imagined.

If it wasn’t for his hands keeping your thighs in place, your legs would surely be threatening to close around his head.

Every whimper and moan of his name from your lips is a dream come true. He never thought he’d be able to hear it for himself, and now that he has, he never wants it to stop. He’ll sneak into your room every night from here on out just to bury his face in between your legs if it means getting to hear you, and taste you like this.

“H-hngh! Haji, your fingers.. Please…”

You certainly don’t have to ask twice before he’s burying one finger inside of you. Curling it expertly as if he’s known that sweet spot all his life.

He keeps his lips wrapped around your clit as his finger moves in and out of you in a slow drag. Pushing against your g-spot before pulling out and pushing back in again.

“More. Gimme more. Please…”

Fuck you sound so cute when you beg like this. He’s almost worried his words come out of his mouth instead of keeping them in his head. He wants to give you more, but not another finger. He wants you around him now. Your tight walls hugging his cock instead of his fingers.

He pulls back before shifting in the middle seat, his mouth is slick and glistening with you all over his face. “You want more? Come get it yourself.”

Even with all the tension, he’s still pushing you. Still playing into this little game, trying to see how far you’re willing to go.

Your eyes are glossy and your mouth hangs open, but you move. Getting exactly what you want as you straddle your legs over his lap. Needily rocking your hips against his.

He’s gotten himself so riled up that he’s not sure how much longer he can last. You steady yourself by holding on to his shoulders as you lower your lips to his neck. You can feel his jaw clench as he leans away from you, giving you all the access you want.

Little kisses are pressed along the column of his neck until you reach his jaw and move your way across. You hadn’t realized how badly you wanted to kiss your step brother until his lips were right in front of yours.

Your eyes meet for a brief second before there’s no longer any space between you. There’s a hum when you taste yourself on his lips and he thinks about how your lips really are as soft as they look.

His hands are on your hips before he hooks his thumbs into his own sweats, trying to tug them down until you get the hint. When your hands move in to replace his, he snickers against your lips, “greedly little thing aren’t’cha?” He puts his hands back on your hips and lifts you just enough for you to slide his sweats and his boxers down to the middle of his thighs.

“Fuck– if I woulda known you were so eager for my cock, I would’ve done this so much sooner.”

You don't offer any response, too focused on the leaking tip of his cock that's poking out between your legs.

You spit in your hand before lowering it to wrap around his length, stroking him a few times until you can feel the weight of it in your palm, “t’s big…” He smirks at you before slapping your ass roughly, grinning even harder when he can feel the skin ripple in his lap.

“You can take it… I know you can. You wanna be a good girl for your big brother, right?”

You nod your head before moving your hips to line him up at your entrance. His tip is angry and leaking, he’s really not sure how long he’ll last once he’s finally inside of you.

There’s a little resistance when his tip pushes inside of you and he throws his head back, internally telling himself that he made the right decision by only using one finger earlier. The feeling of your walls around him is suffocating in the best way, squeezing him tighter than he’s ever felt with anyone else before.

The only thing on his mind is molding you to the shape of his cock so it’s the only thing you know.

His head feels dizzy the lower you sink down and he moves a hand in between your bodies so his thumb can rub tight circles around your clit to ease the stretch. Little whines leave your lips with the added stimulation but it helps the last few inches slide right in and you’re fully seated on his lap.

Your breaths are shallow and shaky and he wants more, “Rock your hips back and forth for me… c’mon, you can do it.” and you do, without question. You’d do anything for your big brother, even ride his cock in the front seat of his truck in the dead of night.

He removes his hand and leaves a hot trail up your body with his fingers. Tracing the swell of your ass, over the curve of your hips to the dip under your breasts until he reaches your shoulders. He reaches for the thin straps still resting there and tugs them down.

You turn your face into his touch and shrug your shoulders, helping ease the strap even further down until your top half is no longer covered. Man is he thankful you weren’t wearing a bra. He’s not sure he wouldn’ve had the patience to take that off without ripping it to shreds.

“Fuckin’ perfect…” he whispers against your skin as he pushes your dress even further down so the whole thing bunches around your waist. He groans, finally able to fit both of your breasts in the palms of his hands.

With each roll of your hips, your clit rubs against a neatly trimmed patch of hair at the base and your back arches further into his touch. His hands are greedy, twisting and tugging at your nipples while his tongue licks a fat stripe between the valley of your breasts.

Your hands are just as desperate. Holding on to the hairs at his nape as if it was the only thing keeping you upright. The way you push his face even deeper into you doesn’t go unnoticed either.

“Haji.. want more, please I–”

He chuckles against your skin, he could get used to the sound of your voice when it’s so needy for him. “Gotta tell me what you want more of… or else I can’t give it to you.”

It’s so embarrassing, how much he’s making you beg for him. “Want you to go harder.. Need to feel it..” You try to lift your hips up and back down but he doesn’t allow you much room for any type of movement.

He pulls one of your tits into his mouth and sucks eagerly on your nipple, rolling it harshly between his teeth before circling his tongue around it. He keeps his mouth put before moving his hands to your waist and lifting you up just enough for half of his cock to come out.

He snaps his hips against yours and repeats the motion. A loud shriek fills the cabin of the truck before you're reaching behind him. Your hands find the back of the seat as you steady yourself while he bounces you on top of him, thrusting his own hips to meet yours and make his movements even more intense.

There’s an incoherent babbling falling from your lips and he's not sure if it’s from the alcohol you consumed tonight or if you’re just cock drunk from how he’s fucking you right now. He hasn’t had a drop of liquor and he feels his own vision start to blur onces your walls start clenching around him.

“F-fuck! You feel s-so good Haji–! More! More!”

His grip on your hips is impossibly tight and he feels as if he’s about to burst any second. He fucks you hard and fast, trying to get you to come undone before he does, but it’s too much. You’re hugging him too tightly and he can’t last another second.

He does everything he can to lift you off of him so he has time to pull out, but you fight against his hold and settle your full weight into his lap. Burying him to the hilt as he cums right inside of you. Rope after rope filling you up. There’s so much that it’s starting to leak out and fall into his lap.

You sit in his lap with your forehead pressed to his shoulder as you try to regain and steady your breath.

“You’re fuckin’ filthy… letting me fill you up like that…”

You laugh against his skin before pulling away to look at him. There are beads of sweat above his eyebrows and a few rolling down his temple. Your delicate fingers swipe over them, wiping them away before smiling.

“You woulda had a mess all over your truck… we wouldn’t want that. Plus, it would’ve been such a waste…”

All he can do is shake his head, trying to wrap his thoughts around everything that just happened. The internal battle he was having with himself earlier finally finds some revelation. He got to have you all to himself. Really have you.

He’s not sure where the two of you go from here, but he’s not willing to give up everything he’s just had a taste of. He’ll find a way to keep his little step sister taken care of.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you and he pulls your straps back up and over your shoulders before he taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to climb out of his lap. He checks the time on the dash and he knows the two of you need to get back home.

“Can you take me home and fuck me forreal?” If it weren’t for those big doe eyes you’re giving him, iwaizumi would have snapped back with some snarky comment or flipped you over in his front seat and taken you right there.

“If I fuck you forreal you’ll wake the whole block up. Not sure Issei and Tooru would tolerate you interrupting their beauty sleep,” he claps back at you.

“That’s fine, maybe they’ll wanna join too…”

“You’re really in for it now.” Who would’ve thought his step sister would be the fucking death of him.

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zozo-01 · 1 year

Text

And The Sunlight That Divides Them

After a extensive conversation in the Discord [brought to you by @sri-rachaa and @gingerbreadmonsters] got me thinking about an old idea of a conversation between Alexis and Darlin'. And then @autisticempathydaemon and @cascadiiing decided to add more fuel to that fire, so here we are!!!

[Also tagging @beemybella, @epsi-l0n, @daveyistheloml and @teasandcardigans because they are both gems and I adore them and Mads is the biggest Alexis fan I know!!! Plus, tagging the ever talented and lovely @spookybeandoodle for setting me off on this Alexis/Darlin' journey monthsss ago!!!]

CW: This is me writing about Alexis in a somewhat positive light, so if you're expecting bitchy Alexis (let's be honest, I can't blame you), this is not the fic you wanna read, that outta way, Suicide Attempt, talking about the events of Sam's turning, Darlin' bringing up their own past with Quinn

click here for the ao3 link!!!

Perhaps this was the greatest benefit of being a vampire.

The ability to choose to end your life.

A vampire does not age. They do not fall victim to mortal sickness and there aren’t natural predators that can efficiently hunt them. Should a vampire decide they had enough, that they have lived a fulfilling life, they can end their second lease on life. They can choose to live for a thousand years, or for a day in their new lives, but should they decide to move on, they can walk gracefully to the shore between life and death.

After 40 years, Alexis Solaire had decided she had enough.

She stared at the shadow's edge, looking at the light-filled kingdom she was banned from. How long had it been since she felt the warmth of… anything, let alone the sun’s warm rays? She longed for it, for the glow of the sunset reflecting her eyes, or the warm summer breeze. But alas, her choice had relegated her to the darkness, the only light in her life was the moon reflecting the sunshine.

There… there had been a time when she felt warm. When she was sharing a bed with a certain freelancer. He made her blood sing with every kiss and bruise he left behind. Those gestures had meant nothing to him, but for her? They were everything. He was proof that she wasn’t a hellion, a wildfire ready to burn anything to the ground. That she could feel love, true, authentic and heart-wrenching love.

It was a shame that no person could change her nature and that he was caught in her flames.

She shook her head. That relationship, him, was long ago. He even was moving on.

With a mate, no less.

She thought of the wolf that had walked into the Solaire Clan meeting. A snide remark was on the tip of her tongue, a comment about how pups shouldn’t be around such dangerous creatures, but the words lodged themselves in her throat. She noticed the soft, love-filled smile he gave them.

The same smile she would give Sam behind his back.

Of course in her dying thoughts, she was thinking about him. How could she not? She was the greatest mistake of his life, and she has to live with that guilt.

Well… Assuming she had to live longer…

Like a bride walking down the aisle, she walked toward the sunlight. With every step, she thought of how the people in her life would react to the news of her death, if they even cared at all.

Out of everyone, William would be the most upset. He was her maker, the reason for her second life, and here she was throwing it away. Would William invoke her to stop her from dying? A selfish part of her wanted to say that yes, William would defy her will to die to keep her here as an act of love. That she too was justified in saving Sam, even if he didn't want to be.

But no, William would never do that. He was too good for that. Instead, he’d hug her, tell her how much she means to him and let her walk to her doom.

Another step was taken and another name appeared in her mind.

Vincent? Would he miss her? She really couldn’t tell you. Some days they were bantering as if they were siblings. She was the older sister with a bad attitude and he was the little shit younger brother. On other days, they were at each other’s throats, fangs cutting the other’s skin and words cutting deeper wounds in their hearts. She let out a sigh. If Vincent misses her, it’s because of all the new responsibility he'd gain as the older progeny.

Yet again, Sam's name crossed her mind and made her stop midstep. Sam would never miss her. In fact, he’d throw the biggest celebration ever with his mate. She can picture his lovely, happy face aimed at them.

But he was happy and that's what she wants. She may not love him the same way, but she wants him happy.

God knows it’s the bare minimum he deserves from her for taking everything away.

She continued walking to her doom. With every step, she can feel the sun’s burn on her skin. It felt amazing to feel the sun’s warmth again.

As she neared the edge, she approached with a singular thought in her head.

‘Goodbye world, may you be less cruel now that I’m not in it.’

Alexis Solaire was dead.

“Hey! Watch out, there’s sunlight here!”

Or that’s what would have happened had a giant wolf not tackled her to the ground.

Instead of burning in the sun, she quickly changed course and accepted that her death would be at the hands of a shifter. Of course, what was she thinking? That she deserved to feel the sun’s warmth after everything she’s done? After taking away Sam’s ability to bask in its glow? Being mauled by a shifter is the only way her story can end. Bloody and painful, and with no one being able to recognize her.

The wolf shifted back into their human form and familiar stubborn-glint eyes looked down upon her.

How fucking poetic was it that Sam’s mate, his Darlin’, would be the one to send her to her second grave. This had to be the universe playing a cruel joke on her. You couldn’t make this up.

But… where was the pain? Why weren’t they mauling her? Were they feeding off their misery? Using it to power them to rip her till she’s unrecognizable?

Just end her pathetic life… please… if there was a mercy the universe can grant her, let it be to have this be her final memory.

“And they fucking call me reckless! Seriously, what self-respecting vampire walks into the sun? Didn't they teach you that shit in vampire school?” The shifter paused to ponder. “Are there even vampire schools?” There was no way her grim reaper in wolf fur was asking her about vampire schools. Where had they even gotten the idea they exist?

The only thing Alexis could do in her shock-filled state was answer truthfully.

“I- No, there aren’t vampire schools for newborns.” Is this a dream? Had she already died and this was… hell? She can reasonably accept that seeing the partner of the man she loved so much after she dies means that she’s in hell. Wait, is Sam’s mate a secret deathwalker? It’s the only explanation that she could fathom for why they of all people were here in her final moments.

The shifter chuckled and scoffed at her answer. “Maybe they should start,” they said while getting up off her. They held out their arm, a strange gesture Alexis was not used to. A gesture of pure kindness. “Tell you what, one of us can bring it up at the next meeting, yea?”

A second passed. They would understand she didn’t deserve their help. Maybe the sun was in their eye? They couldn’t see whom they saved. Yes, that had to be what happened. There was no way Sam’s mate would save her if they knew who she was.

A minute passed. Ok, this was getting weird. The shifter hadn’t moved an inch, their hand still offering to help her up. You could say that it's a sad fact that Alexis isn’t used to receiving anything devoid of any mal intentions, but in her defence, she is Alexis Solaire. She is no stranger to roses. The offerings may seem beautiful, but there were always thorns to be considered.

Perhaps you can call it a tragedy that the extended arm was the first time Alexis was offered a thornless rose.

“We don’t got all day and I gotta get home before a certain someone starts calling.” Their sharp features became soft and their eyes lightened at the mention of this other person. A lifetime ago, it was she who became gentle at the thought of him.

Does the wolf know how lucky they are to be allowed to think of Sam lovingly? To not hide their affection for the man? To outwardly express their love for him?

Do they know that Alexis of the past would kill to be in their place?

She already tried that, to kill for Sam’s love. You already know how that story ends.

She placed her hand in the wolf’s hand. Her tight grip is light enough to remove immediately, a show of her fear of their ulterior motives. Again, could you blame her? She is and forever will be the helion of the Solaire Clan. There were countless who want her dead, and she was sure that his Darlin’ wishes for her death for revenge.

She couldn’t exactly blame them. A life for a life and all that.

She shook the dirt and dust off her clothing. Clearing her throat, she asked the wolf in front of her a question she desperately needs the answer to.

“Do you know who I am?”

They furrowed their eyebrows and blink repeatedly. They seem to contemplate the question. From their face, you’d assume that Alexis spoke in a language foreign to them. Such a simple question should not cause them such confusion. Did she say something wrong? Had she fuck up a potential relationship with the one person who didn’t hate her immediately?

Typical Alexis to burn bridges before they can be built.

The wolf scoffed. “I’d be an idiot if I didn’t know who you are. You’re Alexis Solaire.”

So the wolf did know who she was? This… made things more complicated.

For who in their right mind would save a damned soul like hers?

“... You… you know who I am… and you still saved me?” Alexis tilted her head in confusion. There had to be a mistake. She needed to make absolutely sure that this wolf didn’t mistake her for someone else.

“Uh, of course? Did you expect to watch you walk into the sun?”

Maybe Alexis can be a little naive. Just for this moment. Maybe she can pretend that the wolf saved her, despite all logic saying otherwise.

For so long, Alexis longed for love. To be someone’s world.

Now? Alexis just wants a friend. Maybe they can be that…

No, she couldn’t do that to Sam. It’s cruel of her to take advantage of their ignorance. She hurt their lover, and she shouldn’t even be talking to them. She just has to figure out if Sam had told them the events of his turning without giving everything away. That was his story to tell, and for as much as she has taken from him, she will never take away his chance to tell his story.

“Well… if everything is done here, I should probably be back and,” they held her arm before continuing, “if you ever think about doing something stupid like that again, I’m sure William would be willing to listen. I mean, personally, I like talking to him because he has that calming voice.” They mumbled under their breath, something about it being a miracle they found a french accent soothing. Alexis would have to ask about that later, assuming later would ever happen.

The wolf turned and began to walk away. Closer and closer to the forbidden kingdom that she was banned from.

In an impulsive act, Alexis yelled out, “wait! Can I talk to you?”

The wolf stopped in their tracks and walked back towards the vampire princess. “You? Want to talk with me?” Confusion laced their town and shock was on their face. She can hear the thoughts running through their head. ‘What the hell does a vamp princess like her want to do with me?’

Alexis opened her mouth, but no words came out. Perhaps she was a bit in over her head, and maybe she should have written a script or some bullshit like that, but you know what? She is Alexis Goddamn Solaire. And she will speak her mind.

“Um- What Sam might have told you about me… I don’t know if he’s told you, but I just want to let you know-”

The wolf cut her off, and the warmth in their voice gave away to cold steel.

“Sam told me everything about that night.”

Oh. So they know about that night. And she just reminded them of her greatest mistake.

Well, there goes that. The one singular person whom she thought she could befriend knows about her worst night ever. And if they were willing to overlook that when they saved her, they certainly won’t now that she brought it up with her own mouth.

Dear, Sweet Alexis. Always burning bridges before they could be built.

“You knew all that, and you still saved me?” If all the deities in human history could spare kindness, it would be an answer to this question.

The wolf scoffed. “You know I hate saying the same thing over and over again, so I’ll say this one last time. I saved you because I saw you walking into the sun like you wanted a damn tan.” They crossed their arms, shifting their weight to their right leg. “Is there anything else you want from me?”

Alexis stuttered. It is always a bad situation when Alexis is stuttering. It meant she wasn’t prepared for an outcome, and Alexis always came prepared.

“I’m sorry- it’s just… it’s just that- I never thought you of all people would save me since I… I turned…” She fidgeted with the rings on her hands. “Besides it will be better for everyone, especially him, he probably wants me dead-” Once again the wolf granted her mercy by cutting her off.

“Look, whatever history you and Sam have with each other is between you two. I heard what you did to him, but it ain’t my business to inflict pain on you because of that.” Their steady voice went quiet and they looked at the ground. “And… don’t say it’ll be better if you’re dead. There are people who care for you and want you alive.”

There was nothing Alexis could do but laugh. At the absurd reality that she resides in a reality where the mate of the man whom she forcibly turned was telling her to stay alive. Between her dry laughs, she said, “I’m sorry, it’s just, I find it hard to believe that anyone would want me alive, especially Sam. Why would he or you or anyone care for a bitch like me?”

Once again, the sharp features of the wolf softened and their voice became comforting. “I don’t think Sam would care, whether you were alive or dead. It doesn’t matter, as long as you are out of his life, he’s content.”

“But just because he doesn’t care, doesn’t mean I don’t as well.”

With one single line, Alexis’s view of herself shattered.

She had thought- no, she knew that she was beyond help, beyond saving. She was content with burning herself alive if it meant she could remain the cold, callous bitch many think of her. Was it the most positive outlook of her? Absolutely not. But ignoring the fact that the perceptions of people are rooted in some fact (no matter how little), this helion version of Alexis keeps her safe.

She was no longer the scared girl trying to escape the unwanted marriage she was destined for. The one who begged William to give her a new life. The one who lay awake while Sam was going through his bloodlust, feeling the vitriol and hatred rightfully directed at her.

No, instead she was Alexis Solaire. Cold-hearted. Uncaring. Untouchable. Safe.

But this wolf, who she was still in shock was still talking to her, was making it hard to maintain her well-earned, yet perhaps not deserved, reputation.

Or maybe, they were teaching her that she could be more than that.

A sad smile bloomed on her face, tears building up in her eyes. Finally, she has met someone whom she can lower her guard around. She could just be her and not what people expected her to be. She couldn’t even do that around Sam. (She doubled back on that last thought. Was the wolf becoming more meaningful to her in the few minutes she has met them than Sam was during their relationship?)

“May I ask you one last question? And whatever your answer may be, please don’t sugar coat it, I need to know your truth.” The wolf furrowed their eyebrows and nodded hesitantly, prompting the princess to continue. “Since you know about that night… Was turning Sam a mistake?”

For a split second, the wolf’s eyes flared with anger. She could imagine that they were ready to unleash their fury over Sam onto her, and she was ready to take it all.

But the shifter had other plans.

Instead of burning Alexis alive like she has been doing to herself for years, they paused and composed themselves. What had made them rethink their answer, she doesn’t know, nor did she feel right asking them. And she was content with never knowing.

(What Alexis hadn’t known was that Darlin’ could see the guilt on her face, fresh as the day of the accident. They know that look and feeling all too well, and resorting to anger would only prove to themselves that they are their worst fear. So they give her the grace they were never granted as a child.)

They bit their lip and answered honestly. “If you’re asking me if I think you were right for turning Sam against his will, I’m sorry, but I can’t justify that.” They clenched their eyes shut, and Alexis thinks that they are holding back their own memories. She wonders who was in those memories, for what monster would dare hurt a kind soul such as theirs.

In any case, there was no need to keep Sam’s mate with her any longer. She waves a hand to dismiss the wolf. “I understand, it was the answer I was expecting anyways.” She turned to walk off like she hadn’t planned for that day to be her last, but the shifter had other plans.

“But I don’t blame you!”

She stopped, the words of the wolf echoing in her head. “But I don’t blame you.” How could they not blame them? She took away his agency from that night. She damned him to be confined to his house when the beautiful sun was out. If there was anyone to blame for that night, it was her.

“You’re wrong, I was the one who fucked it up like I always do! I should be the one to take the fall for my own actions!” She hadn’t realized that her voice had gotten higher, but the shock at the wolf’s kindness was leaving her spiralling.

“What you did that night was terrible, and I hope no one has to ever go through that again. But you were put between a rock and a hard place, and you made the decision that you thought was best.” They sighed and looked up to the sky. “I’m not that dumb to not consider what was going through your head.”

For the first time in a long time, Alexis was stunned and silent. She was expecting claws and teeth and anger to be thrown at her, it’s what she deserves and what she has gotten in the past. But the shifter had done something no one else had ever done for her. They considered her side of the story. Maybe- no, her side of the story wasn't the most important on the night of the accident, but they had still thought about her and what she went through her worst moments.

She wasn’t used to that level of thoughtfulness being granted to her. (Maybe the wolf had earned the nickname darlin’?)

They cleared their throat and continued. “The decision itself was never the moral one,” they said with an air of finality in their voice.

(It was a statement they truly believed with their whole heart. They had been on the wrong side of vampire fangs and thinking about Sam going through that made their heartache. But looking at the vampire princess’s guilty face made them feel uneasy. They could feel the familiar bubbles of sympathy in their soul. Damn their empathetic heart cursing them to quell her guilt, though it is an urge they’ll gladly fulfill.)

With a softer tone, they added, “but if all decisions were made with the “right” morality in mind, the world would be a better place.” Alexis looked puzzled at that statement, so the wolf clarified. “What I mean is… a perfect world cannot exist. Some mistakes must be made and they prove that this reality is real. Besides, who am I to judge you based on your past when I have one as well.”

“The only person who can judge you is the one you hurt from that night, and he has made his feelings clear.”

Didn’t she know that. She’s been feeling his loathe for her for the last thirteen years.

Oddly enough, Alexis had finally felt some closure over that night. Having someone acknowledging that yes she made a mistake, but there was no other option available alleviated some of the burdens. Who would have thought it would be Sam's lover releasing her from her emotional turmoil.

“If you don’t mind me asking a question,” they hesitantly inquired.

Alexis was sure that they were the politest person they have ever met, and she was convinced she doesn’t deserve half of it. She nodded. “Go on.”

“Do you still love Sam?”

“No.” It was an answer that sounded forced and rehearsed, like she was practicing it just for this exact moment, but it didn’t make it any less true. “You learn to let go after constant rejection.”

They tilted their head and furrowed their eyebrows in confusion. “You can tell me to fuck off if this is overstepping, but why hold on to the pain? Why not move on?”

She let out another forced laugh. “Because I’m the villain of this story? And when does the villain ever get the happy ending?” The intense stare of concern from the wolf had Alexis dropping her act again. “Sam was my first, true love. I may not love him anymore, but I don’t think I’m ever going to get over him.”

“Funny enough, I thought the same thing about Quinn.”

Alexis had almost doubled over that. Someone as caring as them? Being in love with Quinn? The thought was revolting, they deserved better than the sadistic vampire, but Alexis found it fitting that their bleeding heart would feel sorrow and care for a monster like him. She could use that same argument with her.

“Yea, I know I was dumb for thinking that, but I deadass thought I was gonna be with him forever.” They sighed. “But that wasn’t how shit went. I was distraught after we broke up and I was the one who ruined it-”

“You’re too good to be hung up over someone like him.” Alexis had cut them off with venom in her voice. “You gave him more love and attention than a monster like him deserves.”

They blinked a couple of times and laughed. “Oh you’re absolutely right he didn’t deserve shit from me. But the fact that I loved him and was able to move on doesn’t change.” They held her hands against their chest. “Alexis Solaire, if I can move on from Quinn, then you can move on from Sam.”

Before Alexis could voice her doubts, the shifter’s phone started ringing, and of course, it was their southern vampire. They picked up the phone and greeted him with a “hi baby.” How adorably cheesy and sweet, yet absolutely fitting for them.

She makes sure she doesn’t listen to their phone call, if only to respect Sam’s privacy. She made a hundred percent sure that Sam didn’t know she was there. What he didn’t know, didn’t kill them.

Hanging up, the wolf turned to Alexis with a rueful smile. “I’m sorry, but Sam wants me back and I know if I don’t show up soon, he’s gonna rip the forest apart trying to find me.” They fondly chuckle at Sam’s potential reaction. “Don’t let the past drag you down Alexis, and once you do that, you’ll be able to live again. Don’t pass through your own life like you’re a ghost.”

She nodded, eyes once again filling up with tears at the thought of someone believing in her. “Ok, I’ll try. Thank you, for saving me today.” They did it in more ways than one.

They waved their hand dismissively. “Ahhh, it was nothing! Just doing what any decent person would do!”

“There aren’t many people as kind as you are out there. Do not let this cruel world harden your heart.”

Their eyes widened and turned their head away, flustered at the kind words. “I’ll try. See you around Lexi!” And with that, they shifted into their animal form, a large white wolf, and ran back to the cabin where her progeny resides.

How on earth did a wolf manage to change her outlook on everything in such a short amount of time? Alexis understood why he fell for them. Their energy was addicting, and it nourished her in a way not even the most exquisite blood could.

Alexis had spent the last forty years in cold static, everlasting and never changing, content with having life pass her by. But the wolf had made her feel something she never expected to revel in again. Even the lovestruck days with her unwilling progeny hadn’t brought this sensation back to her.

The wolf’s kindness, their care, their genuine need to help her…

…It felt like sunlight.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted alexis #redacted darlin #remember! if you don't like alexis #you're under no obligations to read or like or reblog this post #zo writes tingz #this is zo speaking

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