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#and my old friend angst strikes again!
enkas-illusion · 4 months
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A Good Daddy
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Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Gojo Satoru x f!reader
Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Genre/Theme: Established relationship/marriage; non-sorcery au
Content warning: fluff, light angst, smut, oral (f.receiving), piv sex, bondage, dom!gojo, sub!reader, brat taming, overstimulation, pregnancy kink, unprotected sex, explicit sexual content, language.
Summary: Husband!Gojo with a pregnancy kink. When he sees you babysitting your close friend’s baby and can’t get the idea of seeing you with a baby bump, carrying his child, out of his head.
Author's Note: Satoru would be such a great dad and you can’t convince me otherwise! The kids are sure to be his exact clones, trusting him with their life cause they know their daddy is just that great 🥹🥹🥹. Daddy Gojo has taken over my brain and is manspreading on my thoughts! As always, I hope you enjoy this one shot. Thank you for reading! 
~ Eren’s Birdie
Song Dedication: Married Life (from UP) by Michael Giacchino / Daddy’s Home by USHER (aka Gojo theme™)
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“Sup, how's it hanging? Long time no see,” you say coolly as you see your husband walking out of the kitchen towards you.
You have your knitting kit in hand, body nestling into the soft cushions of the sofa, belly feeling like it’s about to burst after the delicious dinner you just had. 
Satoru lifts your feet up before resting them on his lap as he sits on the opposite end of the sofa. He's massaging your feet with utmost care.
“Where do I even begin?! A lot has happened since we last saw each other about 10 minutes ago. I washed the dishes!” He sighs, raising his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner while his palm presses flat on the bottom of your foot to stretch your achilles tendon, melting the stiffness away, “And what about you? How have you been, stranger?”
You hold the half knitted lavender patch up to show it to him, “I am making a beanie for Hina. It's getting colder so I figured she'd have a cute little warm beanie to go on her cute little head.” 
Satoru crinkles his nose at this before confessing, “Cute. Do we need to babysit her anytime soon again? I miss the little devil.”
“‘Toru, I doubt Rin and Kento go out without their baby that often,” you let out a breathy laugh when he massages the top of your foot with a soothing firmness.
“Maybe we should make one of our own then I'll miss her less,” Satoru pouts, trying to test the waters carefully to see if it was the right chance to bring up the topic. Afterall, it's what he had been thinking about the entire week.
The baby in question was 8 months old Hina, your best friend's baby. The couple rarely went out ever since they had the baby – so the handful of times that Rin and her husband Kento needed a babysitter, you’d happily volunteered, not minding it ruining your Saturday night plans.
And although Satoru would pout at this each time, he secretly didn’t mind taking care of the toddler with you. It almost felt like a ‘trial’ run for when you’d have your own kids in the future – mini versions of you and him. And so he looked forward to babysitting little Hina as he got glimpses of the motherly side of you.
Your husband knew that you wanted to wait a while before you made the huge decision of bringing a child into this world and he was on the same page… until recently. He knew he was having a change of heart on the matter when his daydreams of seeing you with a baby bump started to spiral out of control over the last month.
What broke the camel’s back was an incident from a week ago – when he’d rushed out of the room to tell you he’d won a game of Counter-Strike against Suguru, you’d gently motioned him to be quiet, cradling the sleeping baby in your lap. He silently made his way to you when he saw the baby was clutching a strand of your hair in her sleep. Since you couldn’t move, he took it on himself to free your hair from the toddler’s strong grip. But just as he did that, Hina wrapped her tiny fingers around his thumb, holding it tightly in her sleep. When he looked up at you, you smiled at him with your loving eyes – it was when he’d decided that he wanted to impregnate you asap.
He had trouble falling asleep that night. You, on the other hand, were sleeping peacefully, after fulfilling your duty as the babysitter diligently. You’d wished Satoru goodnight right after handing Hina over to her parents, who’d returned from their date well into the night, leaving no opportunity for your husband to bring up the topic. 
With much difficulty when he did manage to fall asleep, he’d woken up sweating profusely at the wet dream he had where he came inside you instead of pulling out as per usual. He turned to his side trying his best to control his urges to recreate his dream as he slid his hand up under your tshirt to play with your soft nipples, making you stir in your sleep.
“Wifey… let’s make a baby,” he’d whispered, peppering your neck with soft kisses. You mumbled something incoherent as you turned to wrap your arm around his waist, still deep asleep. He sighed as he pulled his hand away, forcing himself to fall asleep, convincing himself that it was just his horny fantasies talking.
Oh how wrong he was! Here he was, a week later, baby fever running higher than ever. 
You look up from the knitting hooks, before giggling, “Yeah, right…”
“Love, I’m serious,” he mumbles, bringing your left leg up to his face to kiss your foot.
“‘Toru, why are you springing this on me so suddenly? You agreed we'd wait a while…” you sigh as you begin, sitting up as you pull your feet away from his hold.
“Yes but–”
“Satoru… we just got married. We need to get used to our married life first. We need to be with each other before we decide to bring a whole new being into this world,” you explain softly, telling him things he already knew.
“But technically, we've been together for almost 6 years now, I say we're beyond ready,” he protests.
“No, I doubt we're mature enough for the responsibility,” you retort.
“But imagine mini versions of us two running around the house,” he places his hands on your feet once again, pleading with a twinkle in his eyes akin to a kid begging for candy at a store.
“Please! My genes won't even fight, our baby will look like you,” you laugh.
“Then we can just make another one,” he says in a playful tone.
“Well… I have a feeling both of our babies will end up looking like you,” you roll your eyes at him.
“Then what about the next 2?” he says hopefully.
“Next 2? ONLY 2!” you scold him softly. He raises an eyebrow at you and you give him a calculated reasoning, “Just so that they have someone they share an unbreakable bond with and aren't lonely while growing up.”
“Exactly! I say the more the merrier!” he squeezes your feet in excitement.
“Satoru, I'm not a baby machine!” you slide your leg to his lap to nudge his thigh jokingly, “Besides, counting you I'd have 3 babies anyway.”
“Now you're just coming up with whatever excuses,” he snickers, slapping your foot away before shuffling to sit closer to you.
“Oh really?” you furrow your eyebrows as you sit up completely in front of him, sensing the conversation taking a serious turn. You place the knitting yarn and hook to the side on the coffee table.
“Yes really,” he kisses your temple to dissolve the wrinkle there. He always does that whenever you seem annoyed at him as he knows it never fails to make you giggle instantly. However, you simply fold your arms over your chest and give him a stern look.
“No… don’t do this. Talk to me Satoru, I’m serious…” you speak and he drops the playful act, nodding and signalling you to put your point across before he gets his chance to speak.
You sigh as you begin, “You’re the love of my life and I don't doubt for a second that you'd be an amazing father with time but I also believe you don't have the attention span or patience that taking care of a newborn requires, at least for now.”
“Are you being serious right now?” he folds his hands over his chest, sitting up straight.
The crinkle on your forehead fades as you try to find the best words to explain your point to your husband without seeming too harsh, “I'm sorry love, I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just saying… for example, when I was trying to get Hina to sleep, you were screaming at your xbox each time something happened. It made her wake up a few times before she finally fell asleep–”
“You should’ve told me, I would’ve tried to be quiet,” he pouts, slumping and leaning back on the sofa.
“‘Toru… I literally called your phone since I couldn’t yell at you but you were too busy with your game to notice.”
“You know I don't play everyday– okay, if it’s just that, I don’t see a problem. I can change that habit,” he says with a determined look on his face.
“Baby, I'm not trying to change you. But you have to realise that things change drastically when there’s a baby involved, whether you want them to or not,” you explain and he can tell you’re tired by the way your voice sounds. You bring your hand up to rub your temple, letting out a deep exhale.
He dips his head low, mumbling something along the lines of ‘but I'd be a good dad.’
“You tried to feed her chocolate saying she loved the taste! You're not supposed to feed them stuff like that till they're like… one! I don’t think you’re ready for such a huge responsibility just yet,” The tone of your voice is strict, a little louder than you’d like it to be and you already feel guilty at raising your voice at him.
He opens his mouth as if to say something but then shuts it back again. “What is it?” you urge him to speak.
“Nothing… it’s alright, I get it. You don't want me to be the father of your babies,” He mutters as he tries getting up. You grab his wrist to stop him from leaving, giving him a ‘you know that's not true’ look.
He sighs as he sits back down, “Okay maybe what you're saying is kinda true. I don't know much about babies besides the fact that they're like cute mini humans. But I can learn, you know? No one has a manual on how to be the best father but I know I will give it my 100%”
When he sees a faint smile return to your face, it encourages him to continue to convince you, “Maybe I might surprise you. Remember when you first thought I wasn't the type to take aftercare seriously but then you told me how surprised you were when I made you feel good during and after our first time?”
“Yeah,” you blush at him, rolling your eyes playfully, “You are good at that.”
“So let me show you baby… I’ll prove it to you, I'll be the best daddy,” He leans his weight on your body, trapping you between the cushions to kiss you. You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning into his mouth when his hands play with your breasts from over your t-shirt. 
When he dips his face down to your neck, sucking you where he knows will have you putty in his hand, you take a shaky breath, biting your lip at the sensation.
“Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum– gonna make your pretty belly swell,” he whispers as his head moves down, lifting up your t-shirt along with your bra to expose your chest before latching his mouth onto one of your hardened buds.
You bring your hands down to place them firmly on his chest as you push him away lightly, letting out a heavy sigh. Satoru stops as he moves back up to look into your eyes, eyebrows knitted.
You simply let out another sigh as you break eye contact to look to the side. He waits for you to speak but when the moment passes, he pulls away completely. You pull your t-shirt down and fix your bra quietly, actively avoiding his gaze.
“I'm going to bed, night,” he mumbles, getting up off the sofa to retire to the bedroom without waiting for your reply. He didn't kiss you good night, he almost never does that unless he's really upset. But why can't he understand where you're coming from?
Can't you understand where he’s coming from?
You close your eyes briefly as you slump onto the sofa. You rest one arm on your forehead as your head starts going into overthinking mode. However, your train of thought is broken before it can reach a destination when your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out lazily as you open the text you’d just received from Rin.
You download the picture and your heart flutters when you see that it’s a photo of Satoru holding baby Hina in a loving embrace. It’s a picture taken on your wedding day, your husband’s crisp white shirt wrinkled by the way he’s holding the baby and smiling at her lovingly. She must’ve been barely 2 months old at the wedding. You can’t help but smile at the photo, your heart aching when you remember that the same man is sleeping in the other room, upset with you. You’re pulled out of your thoughts once again when your phone rings.
Rin:
Look how cute this is! I never knew I had this in my phone!
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“Did you see the picture? Aren’t they the cutest? I was just telling Kento about how I wish you guys should have a baby soon. It’d make Hina a big sister,” your friend squeals. You laugh back at her but it’s due to the absurdity of her timing.
“Seriously, I’d love to see Satoru being a dad,” she adds when you don’t say anything.
You laugh again, “Right, that makes it the two of you.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“I mean that Satoru and I just had a small disagreement about this,” you press your hand to your temple, massaging it. 
Rin stays quiet for a moment before you hear her speak again, “Do you remember that day? He had taken off his suit coat, not because he was worried Hina would spoil it, but because he thought the fabric of his shirt was softer for her to rest her head on.”
You nod, not realising she can’t see you, before you reply with a quiet ‘hmm’.
“All I’m saying is that I know you fear him being too easy going, but Satoru is a serious guy, he knows when to take responsibility diligently,” your friend continues, reminding you of the things you already know and adore about your man. 
You almost tear up – you'd been overthinking this so much that you forgot to acknowledge Satoru for the man that he is. Of course he'd be a great dad!
Even if Rin hears you sniff, she doesn’t comment on it. Instead she asks, “Oh by the way, do you have her blue binky?”
“Huh?”
“It must be at your place. I can't find it here and Hina’s been raising hell cause it's one of her favourites,” Rin explains.
“Oh, just a min–” You look around the sofa, digging your hands into the creases and corners in hopes of finding it. 
“It's here!” you exclaim but your smile fades as you observe the tiny object in your hand, a realisation hitting you with the speed of lightning.
You had been projecting. Sure, having a baby was going to be hard but you were worried about being a bad mother more than Satoru being a bad father. Taking care of a growing life, who’s primarily dependent on you for everything, requires a lot of patience. Making sure your tiny human receives everything it deserves isn’t an easy task at all times. 
Yet, despite all of this, if there’s one thing you knew without a speck of doubt, it was that you wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else but the love of your life, Gojo Satoru. You're brought back to reality, breaking from your ruminations when you hear your friend’s voice calling your name once again.
“Sorry… hey– let me call you back?” you mumble.
“Sure, take care. Good night. See you tomorrow,” your friend speaks softly before hanging up. 
You drop your phone on the sofa as you get up to make your way to the bedroom. When you walk in, you find Satoru sleeping on his side, his back turned to you.
“Baby, are you asleep?” you speak softly. He doesn't respond but you know he's awake – he can never fall asleep when he's lying on his right side.
Shit, he’s really mad.
You quietly strip off your sweatpants and t-shirt, leaving you only in your bra and underwear before hopping on the bed to get closer to your husband.
“‘Toru, my love,” you coo softly as you kiss his cheek from behind. He turns to look at you, poker face on. You catch his eyes wandering down to your cleavage briefly but he doesn’t break his composure nonetheless.
You lean forward to press your chest against his, kissing him on the lips but he's annoyingly stiff. You sit back up as you pout at him.
“Please don't be mad at me baby,” you murmur as your fingers draw lazy circles over the expanse of his chest. Just as you move your hand down his torso, dangerously closer to his crotch, he grabs your wrist and flips your bodies so that you’re trapped under him.
Your giggles come to an abrupt halt and you bite your lip when you feel his hips press against you, fully aware of his evidently erect bulge.
“And why shouldn't I be mad at you?” He mocks, bringing his right hand up to your neck, his long fingers gripping the sides firmly.
“Because you love me?” You pout as you bat your eyelashes at him. He lets out a dry chuckle as his fingers choke you lightly.
“Not enough. Gotta try harder than that baby.”
“I'm sorry, ‘Toru… maybe you can forgive the mother of your future children,” you bring a hand up to caress his cheek.
“Hmm… should I?” He says, adding a bit more pressure. When you let out a quiet gasp, he dips his head down to kiss your parted lips hungrily. Your breathing gets heavier as his tongue explores your mouth, the sloppy wetness of your salivas mixing together making your pussy throb in excitement. Your hands move up to his hair, tugging at his blonde locks.
You whimper into his mouth when he bites your lower lip, pulling it out before releasing it with a soft plop. His grip on your throat releases as his hand slides underneath to unclasp your bra before hastily taking it off and tossing it aside.
You cup his face so that he’s looking into your eyes when you speak. His demeanour almost collapses at what you say next.
“Satoru… don’t pull out. Please fuck a baby into me,” you say timidly, the heat in your cheeks rising. He knows that you know just how much your words get to him and use it to your advantage often – usually he’d let you but this time, he doesn't want to let you have your way with him just yet. He wants to toy with you for a bit first.
“Maybe I've changed my mind?” he says with a smug look on his face. Your hands move down to his hips, hooking into the band of his sweatpants to push them down along with his underwear to his thighs, freeing his dick from its restraints. You lift your hips up to feel his hard on against your core. 
“I doubt,” you bite back, deceitful innocence in your eyes, “...but I could just go to sleep if you're not up for it.”
Your husband lets out a low chuckle as he grabs your jaw firmly, shaking his head at you, “You're not going anywhere until I'm done with you.”
In an attempt to rile him up further, you decide to mock him as you repeat his words in a condescending tone, “You're not going anywhere until– AHH!”
Big mistake.
Within a second Satoru flips you over till you're lying on your stomach, caging you in place with his knees dipping into the mattress on either side of you. He leans back to pull your underwear off and your heart picks up its pace when he grabs both your wrists to tie them behind your back with the flimsy fabric in a tight, makeshift knot.
He pushes your head into the pillow before landing a rough slap on your ass. He kneads the skin right after to soothe the stinging sensation.
“‘Toru–” you whimper. He ignores your pleading voice, simply tapping two fingers over your ass. You know what he wants and you obey immediately, lifting your hips up off the mattress. He folds your thighs further in till your back is arched with your ass up in the air, on display for him.
“You know what happens when you act bratty,” he kneads your asscheeks with both of his hands before clawing at the flesh. You push back in response and he laughs, “... or maybe you’re just a masochist.”
He lands another sharp spank, causing you to let out a tiny sob into the pillow. 
“Tell me what you want baby,” he teases. Your head turns to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face behind you but your movement’s restricted, rendering your attempts useless.
If there’s one thing that Satoru claims to lose his mind over is the look in your eyes. He often calls your eyes his ‘weakness’, confessing he’d do anything you ask of him when you look at him with those fucked out eyes during sex. So for him to take away his weakness, typically with a blindfold, is when you know you’re really fucked.
“Didn’t you have a lot to say just now, love?” he mocks and you feel two fingers glide over your exposed cunt. You sigh at the sensation, letting out soft moans when his fingers begin to play with your folds.
“‘Toru– more,” you beg and he slides two fingers inside you. You hum in pleasure but huff when you’re reminded of the annoyance of being restricted each time you try to move your arms.
His movements are excruciatingly slow and it’s making you lose your mind and patience. You try to chase his touch, failing miserably at getting him to push his fingers deeper inside you. Satoru lets out a condescending chuckle at your poor attempt, “Are you really that desperate for me baby?”
You huff and you’re about to complain but it turns into broken moans when he starts pumping his fingers into you – the squelching sound of your pussy blending with drawn out cries of his name.
“Aww, does my wife like it when I do this?” he teases, curving his fingers inside to rub your walls, massaging a particular spot that has you begging him for more. Your thighs tremble and your pussy flutters around his fingers. “Guess she really does!” you hear him squeal before he pulls his fingers out completely, depriving you of all contact within a second.
“Satoru! S– stop being so mean!” you scold him with shallow breaths.
“Satoru! Stop being so mean!” he laughs as he mocks you, his fingers lightly grazing over your folds.
“Baby… pl–please, I’m sorry,” you cry, desperate for his touch.
“What for, baby?” he nudges further, his finger inching towards your clit.
“For teasing you– mmh,” you whimper when he rubs over the bundle of nerves.
“But that’s not why I’m mad…”
“‘Toru please–”
“Yes?” he sings.
“Fuc– I’m sorry… I was wrong, you’ll be a great dad– ahh,” you squeeze your eyes shut when he pinches your clit.
“That’s it,” he coos softly and you feel him come up behind you to kiss your shoulder, “was that so hard, baby?” he moves down to bite one of your tied wrists, moving further down to kiss the skin over your tailbone. You feel his fingers dig into your ass, pulling the flesh apart before diving his face down as he begins lapping at your cunt with a brutal pace. 
Your ass jerks up at the sudden touch and he continues his ministrations, alternating between sucking your clit and licking down till his tongue’s dipping inside your hole, wiggling it in. You twist your wrists, feeling the urge to grab at something, anything to steady yourself, yet it’s a futile attempt.
“Toru– too much,” your tears wetting the pillow as you feel your legs shake, threatening to collapse at any moment. Satoru is quick to sit up straight and you feel his shuffling movement behind you and see him toss the bundle of his clothes to the side before settling behind you once again, wedging his knees between yours to spread them wider. He taps his swollen tip over your folds, rubbing it back and forth to coat it with your wet slick. 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel him push the tip in, splitting your walls to adjust to his length. Once he’s completely buried inside you, he grips the side of your hips to support you, “Gonna fill you up so good baby.”
“Oh god– Sa–toru–” you howl when he pulls almost his entire length out before thrusting back into you. When his pace builds up, your body jerks slightly forward due to the force of his thrusts. His grip on your sides tightens as he pulls your hips back to slam you back against him.
The sound of your skin slapping fills the air along with both of your moans and groans. When you wiggle your wrists again in a desperate attempt, the knot loosens just enough for you to wring your wrist free. You bring one hand down to support your weight while the other moves behind you to claw at his forearm.
Satoru hisses at the sudden contact as he twists your wrist, holding it against your lower back while his other hand snakes around your throat, pulling you back till you’re sitting up flush against his chest. His other hand hooks around your waist as he starts bouncing your torso up and down on his dick at the same time he slams up into you.
You free the hand behind your back to pull his face closer while twisting your neck to look back, kissing him frantically, the wet trail of your tears smudging and transferring onto his skin. 
At a particularly rough thrust, Satoru’s knee slides slightly, making his balance stumble a bit. He lets out a breathy ‘fuck’ as he pulls out abruptly. 
“‘Toru?”
“Shhh–” he orders as he grips your waist tightly to pull you down till you both are lying down on your left side, his chest pressed against your back. He adjusts his position to hook your legs around his, opening you up wider for him as he brings his hand down to guide his dick back near your entrance to shove it in your swollen hole. 
His hand is shaky as he brings it to your clit to rub circles as he resumes thrusting into you ruthlessly once again. You cry his name out loud at how good this new motion hits and he bites your shoulder. You know he’s close by how erratic his thrusts get.
His other arm that is placed beneath you comes up to pinch your nipples, the added stimulation is too intense for you as you feel the muscles in your stomach tighten more than they already have. His nose buries in the crook of your neck as his lips bite your skin harshly. When he starts sucking on your favourite spot behind your ear, it causes goosebumps to rise all over your body.
You claw at his biceps as you turn your head back to look at him. He looks so fucked out and the fact that he gets this way only for you is what overwhelms your senses even further.
“Fuck–” his eyebrows knit as he leans down to kiss you. You feel your body twitch as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter before letting go completely, causing your walls to pulse around his cock as you reach your orgasm.
Your moans are swallowed by his kisses and your grip on his locks loosens. When you break away from the kiss to catch your breath, you stare at his face and your eyebrows knit when you see the way a string of saliva connects your lips with his. Your chest heaves as you look into his eyes and you can tell he’s close. 
“Fuck– fuck– shi–” he grunts as he shuts his eyes, biting your shoulder once again and you feel him shoot his load inside, painting your walls. With broken thrusts, he slows down before stopping completely. He stays inside you for a few seconds before pulling out and shutting your legs close to keep his cum from spilling out.
You let out a tired laugh at this as you close your eyes, suddenly feeling hyper aware of everything that had just transpired, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. He readjusts your position so that you’re lying flat on your back, while he moves on top of you till his head is resting on the valley of your breasts. 
You open your eyes when you feel him tug at your wrist and you see him free it from your underwear that was still hanging limply there. As he holds the fabric up, you see that the elasticity of its band had been completely destroyed. You see red marks on your wrist where it was secured tightly. Satoru pulls your hand down to kiss your wrist, mumbling a ‘sorry’ and turning his head to kiss your other wrist.
You simply hum as you close your eyes again, calming your breathing and nerves. You feel him rub circles over your stomach before moving down to kiss you over your belly button. He brings both his hands up to intertwine his fingers with yours, peppering soft kisses all over your stomach.
“So… care to explain what changed your mind so quickly?” he asks.
You nod as you slowly open your eyes, gulping as you look down to meet his gaze. He moves up till he’s at your eye level, expectantly waiting for your answer, pinning your hands to the sides of your head.
You bite your lip nervously as you begin, “Sorry for insinuating that you’d be a bad father. It wasn’t my intention – I just got scared. I know you’ll be a great papa, I don’t doubt it for a second…” you look away to avoid his gaze, “... sorry for projecting my insecurities onto you– I’m just worried if I’d be able to be a good mom.”
“Baby… you’re so smart, yet sometimes you say the dumbest shit,” he chuckles softly as he brings one hand up to cup your face, “I’ve seen the way you take care of Hina… seeing you be so kind and loving is what made me go crazy about wanting our own babies. I want kids because I’d get to be a parent with you… so that you can be the mother of my children. Don’t go thinking about crazy hypotheticals like that!”
“Hmm, thank you baby. But taking care of Hina is easy when it’s only for a couple of hours at a time. Having our own baby will be like a full time job. I listen to the way Rin sometimes jokes that she doesn’t even have time alone with Kento cause she’s so tired oft–”
“Hey, hey… breathe,” Satoru interrupts you, resting his forehead against yours and your face relaxes as you close your eyes, taking deep breaths. “Even if all of that is true, you have me with you. I’m not leaving your side even for a second, my love. We’re in this together. Taking care of our baby and his pretty mommy is my responsibility and I’m gonna do it right.”
You feel the tears well up in your eyes as you look up at him and he smiles softly at you, “I love you.”
You tilt your head slightly to kiss him before speaking, “I love you so much Satoru. I wouldn’t want to have anyone else’s baby.”
“Oh thank goodness! Wanting a baby only with your husband is the ideal thing after all,” he laughs breathily and you slap his chest lightly. 
“Besides, I think we’ll be ready by the time I actually conceive. I’ve heard that it takes a few months for some couples, so who knows, right?” you think out loud.
“Please,” he snickers, “I’ve got the best swimmers, there’s no way in hell you won’t be pregnant after tonight…”
You giggle as you pull him down till he’s lying on top of you completely like your own personal weighted blanket.
He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, “... but just to be sure, let’s go another round… make it certain.”
“‘Toru! I’m tired” you laugh as you try to pull him off of you but he continues kissing down your neck. You close your eyes at how sensitive your skin feels against his kisses.
“Then just lie down. I’ll do all the work, princess,” your husband winks at you before circling his tongue around one of your already hardened nipples. 
You hum contentedly as you rest your head back down, melting into the pillow and accepting your fate – you were going to have to run on very little sleep tomorrow.
~fin~
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delulujuls · 6 months
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navy fury | mv33
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im a redbull stan and max's girlie till i die (but my heart is papaya shaped) so please enjoy this one as well!
summary: max is struggling with asking for help, reader is trying her best to let him know that she always got his back
warnings: negative emotions, angst, max struggling with his demons, jos verstappen (he is the biggest warning lol)
pairing: max verstappen x fem!mclarendriver
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Max would often get angry.
More often than he would like it to be. More often than he would want a consuming wave of anger to wash over him, for fury to engulf him and inject its burning venom into his veins. He would get angry over trivial things, get angry over bigger issues either. Anger would truly eat him up every time something didn't go as planned.
However, he tried to fight with his anger and negative emotions at all costs. Instead of processing them, letting go and moving on, he would bottle them up, allowing them to fester and poison his entire being. He preferred to get angry in solitude, where he knew nothing wrong would happen and even if it did, he would be the only one harmed.
Unfortunately, Max found a kind of satisfaction and comfort in hurting others. Emotions dissipated much faster when he could engage in an argument with someone rather than sitting in silence with only his own screams shattering his head.
If Max could have any control over himself and his emotions, he would unplug the anger outburst responsible for explosions of anger like this one.
He didn't hear the insults that left his mouth, didn't hear Christian's shouts telling him to calm down. He didn't feel the strong arms of the mechanics holding him back and pulling him away from Lance Stroll, who sat on the ground with a bleeding nose. In moments like this, Max was guided by nothing but emotions, desperately trying to find any way out.
In moments like this Max knew that to feel relief he had to destroy something. It didn't matter if it was a glass, his shattered fists or the bleeding nose of that Aston Martin dickhead who ruined his entire race.
Many people in his immediate surroundings distinguished the Dutchman before the anger storm and after it. Before it was Max, after it, there was only Verstappen.
Just as Max was the friendly, smiling guy who joyfully congratulated his rivals, willingly gave interviews and joked with team members, Verstappen was a walking hailstorm from which lightning could strike at any moment.
"Fucking idiot."
He growled one last time and walked deeper into the garage, where everyone he encountered averted their gaze and moved out of his way. It was always best to simply get out of Max's way and let him cool down. But no one knew that the fire of anger was just beginning to burn and the epicenter was yet to come.
"What the hell was that, Max?"
Cold water. The hiss of an extinguished fire.
He felt a tightness in his chest upon hearing his father's voice. Jos Verstappen was the only person who could instantly turn his anger into pure, filtered fear.
Max unzipped his racing suit, unable to look his father in the face. He didn't even know what to say. What was there to say either, he had just let his father down. Not for the first time though.
"I asked you a question."
His father's cold, gruff tone cut Max to the core and once again, Max was six years old, stuttering as he explained to his dad why he crashed his go-kart into his friend's. Apologizing and making excuses, saying it wasn't his fault that another seven-year-old cut him off. In his eyes, Max wasn't a grown man with an amazing track record, he was just a brat who needed discipline because he made idiotic mistakes.
His father was about to thunder over him again when the whole stormy situation was suddenly illuminated by a ray of sunshine. Quite literally, as it was Y/N still dressed in her bright McLaren suit, who upon hearing about the commotion in the Aston Martin garage hastily went out to found her friend.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Verstappen, but Max is needed in the studio," she said quickly, grabbing Max's hand "Come on, Max, we need to go."
"We'll come back to this conversation."
His father mumbled under his breath, watching them go.
The girl squeezed her friend's hand tighter and started pulling him in the opposite direction, wanting to get him away from his father as quickly as possible.
"I'm not in the mood for interviews."
"There's no interview; I had to come up with something quickly to get you out of there."
Max stopped, causing Y/N to be pulled back as well. Surprised by his sudden decision, she turned to him with a questioning expression.
"I want to be alone right now, without anyone."
He let go of her hand but she still stubbornly held onto his fingers.
"We both know you don't want to be alone."
Max shook his head in denial. The last thing he wanted was to be in her company right now. He knew that when the commotion and the crowd disappeared, all the emotions would flood over him like a toxic wave.
"You don't understand."
"Yes, I don't understand because you don't give me the chance."
The girl approached him, their bodies only a few inches apart.
"Everything is fine between us only when you're in a good mood. We are really close, we spend time together and we are acting like actual friends. But as soon as something doesn't go your way and your behavior changes, you build a thick wall between us." Y/N looked into his eyes, shaking her head. "Friends don't do that, Max."
"That's what the best friends do," he replied, looking into her eyes. As they were always in the colour of the clear sky, in that moment they were having a storm inside. "The best friends won't drown you in the shit that's swirling through their lives, they won't drag you into their inner conflicts. The best friends won't be a burden to you, you know why? Because they'll just spare you that!"
Y/N embraced him without a word. She hugged him with such force that someone would need chains to pull her away. She had no intention of leaving Max's side, no matter what he was struggling with. She wanted to help him, to be his support and to be the light in his darkest nights. She had no intention of letting him continue to deceive himself with assurances that everything was always perfect. Because life never looks that way.
Adult Max didn't return her embrace, knowing that it was for the best. Adult Max closed his eyes and tilted his head, not wanting to let a single tear escape. He hoped that by remaining distant, by hurting the girl with his indifference, she would let go of him. But Little Max didn't want to make her sad; he wanted to hug his friend and not let her go until everything will be okay again.
"I won't leave you with this, Maxie. If you like it or not."
Maxie.
Lighter.
Explosion.
He exploded in tears without any warning. He sank to his knees and tightly embraced his friend, burying his face in her stomach. Y/N stroked his hair, holding him close. She didn't try to calm him, knowing full well that he just needed to cry. He needed to let out all the sadness, anger, and bitterness that had accumulated in his veins and poisoned him for years.
When the girl kissed his wet cheek, she could swear that it left a bitter taste on her lips.
And it was exactly the venom finally letting him go.
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cherrygukki · 1 year
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after last night (m)
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➸ pairing: rich fuckboy! jungkook x f. reader ➸ word count: 4.3k ➸ genres: acquaintances to fwb, smut, unreciprocated love, mild angst if you squint, and a sprinkle of fluff ➸ summary: After last night, Jungkook doesn't know what to do. You got to tell him when he's gonna see you again before he drives himself crazy. ➸ warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, protected sex, whiny jk, rough, making out in public for like a minute, grinding, lots of kissing, hickeys, dirty talk, praise kink, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting (once), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, he's WHIPPED for reader's pussy, i almost forgot to say that jk also finishes early but that's okay he makes up for it🤭🤭 ➸ author's note: As what the title suggests, this short series (maybe) is inspired by After Last Night by Bruno Mars. I'm literally OBSESSED with this song so I couldn't help but write something dedicated to it. As always, enjoy reading!
Wishin' on a shootin' star, say a prayer for me
And hope it comes true
Jungkook can't help but heave a sigh, twirling the almost empty wine glass around in his hand while looking at the night sky with such loneliness in his eyes.
The sight above him is beautiful, but to him, there's nothing more beautiful than the image of your face in front of him right now. He craves you by his side, appreciating the view outside his window as you spend the most loving time in your lives.
So, when his eyes spot the phenomenal shooting star that swiftly passes through his home, his mind screams your name right away, praying to whoever's listening to him in the sky to have you here with him.
It's foolish, but he'll just about do anything to see you again, hoping that his wishes will eventually come true someday.
Throw my phone out the window, there's no player in me
Those days are through
When he said that he's willing to do anything for you, he meant it with every fiber of his being. Hence, it doesn't take Jungkook any second thought to pull his phone out of his pocket only to throw it out the window. He lets it fall freely from the high level of his penthouse without a care. Perhaps it's the alcohol seeping into his veins, putting him under the influence, but there still remains a part of him where he doesn't regret what he just did. After all, he only wants to prove you one thing by the end of the day —
He's more than willing to enter a new chapter in his life, and the title of that chapter is you.
You put it on me like I never felt before
That gushy, gushy good, girl, I want some more
While Jungkook continues to appreciate the mesmerizing city landscape beyond him, his mind couldn't help but drift off to the moment you met each other for the first time.
He had only intended to have a great time with his old friends during that highschool reunion of your batch. If only you hadn't attended that party like the gorgeous goddess you were to his eyes, then perhaps he wouldn't be so crazy like he is now.
Back then, Jungkook merely thought of you as the smart student who had a few admirers here and there, only ever getting the chance to talk with you every time you're paired up on a project, but he never thought of batting an eye towards your direction. However, the clearer view of your beauty in the present is in no doubt, indeed a present to him.
Without hesitation, he strikes up a conversation with you right away, leaving everyone else in the ditch as his entire attention was now directed on you, and you only.
It took hours for the party to end, thus it doesn't surprise you to see Jungkook impatient to get the both of you out of the venue, for you already knew where this night was about to end the moment he greeted you.
You haven't even gotten the opportunity to jump inside his car, but you're already making out on his hood like horny teenagers all over again. He kisses you with a spark of fire, spreading flames all over your body like a wildfire. You moan when he bites your bottom lip before pulling away, extending his warmth down to your exposed neck where he marks you like his personal treasure. You throw your head back in no shame whatsoever, disregarding the environment around you when you begin to grind your crotch against his thigh. The moans you let out our wanton, especially when he easily locates that sensitive spot on your neck to lick, suck, and bite on it that already has you reeling for the man.
You're certain there's a wet splotch in your underwear by now, already aroused from merely grinding away on Jungkook's thick thigh as well as him leaving dark spots all over your neck as if tomorrow will never come.
He slithers a tattooed hand beneath your dress to rub your clothed folds. You gasp loudly at the abrupt intrusion, letting him do whatever he desires at the moment while you relax at the sensational touches he leaves on you.
Whimpering, you grip tightly on his shoulder to urge him to go on. "Don't stop," you whine, "Please don't stop, fuck—"
"I won't, sweetheart." He licks at the fresh hickey he's just made while whispering. "I won't."
Before anyone could even catch up to what was going on, Jungkook hides the both of you from out in the open, hastily fishing his car keys from his pocket to unlock the Black Mercedes he's about to drag you in. He opens the backdoor, and soon enough, he's messily falling along with you on the leather seats where you continue to explore each other's bodies.
He locks the car again before hunching your dress around your waist to take a look at the sopping mess you've done with your panties, pushing them to the side when he finally gets to touch your bare pussy for the first time tonight.
Growling, he leans down to your ear only to send you a hot wave of shivers with the raspy whisper he lets out. "Gonna make you cum so hard tonight, sweetheart." He chuckles, "So fucking hard."
Jungkook wasn't expecting to receive exactly the same treatment he intends to give you tonight.
The moment you arrive at his penthouse, the two of you are already sticking to each other immediately like opposite poles of a magnet until you eventually navigate yourselves to the large couch in his living room. He settles you comfortably on his lap, hands traveling down to your clothed ass where he kneads them as you continue to lap each other out. You're the first one to pull away after a few more seconds, for he's already sucking the breath out of you with his plush lips alone.
You impatiently begin to unbutton his dress shirt, admiring the bulky figure that's hidden underneath the flimsy layer of fabric. He does the same to you, wrapping an arm around your back to unzip the tight outfit refraining his eyes from indulging in your gorgeous figure. The straps fall loosely around your shoulders, and soon enough, your dress is already messily hunched around your waist, exposing the entirety of your body to Jungkook's lust-hungry gaze.
By the time you get rid of his top, you don't hesitate to lean down and place kitten licks on his nipple. He quietly gasps at your bold move, resisting the temptation to have his eyes rolling back when you lick a fat stripe on his chest. He shivers underneath you, falling victim for your presence as he tightens the hold he has on your waist. Your pussy is gushing your arousal like a waterfall, and Jungkook doesn't fail to notice how desperate your whimpers get when you pick up the motion of your hips on his thigh.
Pulling away, you attack his lips ferociously, moaning oh-so wantonly that it has the tent in Jungkook's pants growing angrier by the minute. "I wanna ride your face."
"Fuck yeah, baby." Jungkook almost whines when you hastily settle yourself on his face, having your panties already ridden off earlier from the steamy car ride on the way home. You pant heavily, sensing his warm breath knocking right on your entrance, steadily aligning your core above his pillowy lips until he takes matters in his own hands — becoming more desirous for the sweet nectar leaking over him.
"Oh! Fuck, Jungkook—" You draw out a long mewl when he laps at your pussy like an oasis, leaving no drop of your juices out of his mouth as he dances his tongue around your sopping folds.
Nothing left could be heard in the spacious room aside from your lewd moans and the obscene noises of your wet pussy being eaten out by Jungkook.
You desperately grind on his face, searching for more friction, repeatedly nudging the tip of his nose with your clit which only has you throwing your head back in bliss.
Jungkook, on the other hand, feels more than euphoric seeing your fucked out expression from below. He wiggles his tongue in every spot he deemed fit to have you toppling near the edge. Your taste alone is enough to get him off, bucking his hips in the air to seek for a release himself. Swallowing every drop you offered him only has him going crazier by the second, only urging him to fuck you with his tongue this instant, and that's what he exactly did.
The abrupt intrusion of his tongue between your folds elicited a loud whimper from you. He fucks you with his tongue like how he would with his cock — messy and fast.
Breathy chants of his name and a messy mantra of moans and whimpers come tumbling off your tongue. You bounce on his face like the desperate one you were, chasing that orgasm that's merely boiling from deep within your core.
He simply couldn't get enough of your essence, akin to getting intoxicated by the best form of addiction in the world. He continues to lap on your dripping cunt as if he's the next one in line on a death row, moaning every now and then which sends vibrations reverberating up your spine. Your mind blacks out, and now the only thing you can think of is Jungkook's skilled and wet tongue bringing you to an intense orgasm.
You don't hold back from leaving your mouth ajar to spill out the most sinful, yet heavenly noises Jungkook has ever heard, provoking him to add up to your pleasure by encouraging you to swivel your hips around his face.
Your pending orgasm is peeking around the corner, and the knot that's about to blow up inside you is about to make a mess on Jungkook's swollen lips. "Fuck, Jungkook, I'm cumming—" you whine, thighs shaking profusely until the knot snaps.
Gasping, Jungkook doesn't leave any of your juices unwelcome, for he's greedily drinking your juices up in pure gluttony. Your pussy keeps gushing out new waves of your orgasm for Jungkook to consume, and he can never get sick of it. If anything, it leaves him wanting more of that gushy sweetness you provide him, never ever being stunned from the way you do it.
Sweet, sticky, thick and pretty
You changed the game
At this point, Jungkook wants nothing more than to shove his cock in the prettiest pussy he's seen in his life, similar to a messy abstract painting that always succeeds in enticing the people's eyes — that's how beautiful Jungkook saw you.
Slowly lifting your hips off his panting face, you finally take a glimpse for the first time on how fucked out he already seemed. His lips are absolutely smeared with your essence, and perhaps a few of it even landed on his chin and his nose. However, your appreciation session on the man's features are cut short when he rips open the condom hiding in his pocket, swiftly stripping himself off his pants until his dick is finally sprang out in the open; tall and leaking with pre-cum.
He rolls the condom around his shaft, and before you know it, he's already forcing you down on his lap where your soft walls gain contact with the tip of his cock.
"Gonna fuck your pretty little pussy with my cock, baby. You want that?"
You mewl in response, eagerly nodding as you visibly bite your lower lip. Spreading your slick all over his tip, you steadily sink yourself around his girth, eliciting a guttural groan between the two of you. For a moment, you can feel the wind knock out of your lungs from how full you felt. Your walls kept themselves snug around Jungkook's veiny shaft, and he swears, he's losing his composure faster by the second.
"Fuck," he lowly whimpers when you finally bottom out, large hands settling on your hips to slowly drag you up again. Your pussy already leaves a trail of dribbling slick down the length of his cock, and it definitely earns a hiss to come out between Jungkook's teeth.
He helps you in riding him, a lewd yelp falling off your pretty lips when your hips crash down on his thick thighs, causing his tip to kiss the top of your cervix inside. Soon enough, your pace becomes increasingly desperate, as what seemed to be mildly moderate a few seconds back turns to a merciless wrath of Jungkook's cock roughly fucking into your dripping cunt.
"Jungkook!" You cry his name in utter bliss before the weight of your head gives in, leaning on his shoulder for support as you unknowingly drool on the taut muscle. He growls animalistically, fucking you with full force and great speed which leaves the air humid, and the sound of skin slapping and wet squelches of your pussy fill the quiet space of his penthouse.
A staccato of breathy moans spill out from your lips like a waterfall. His cock was covered in your slick, shimmering in your thick arousal which only heightened Jungkook's stimulation.
"God, look at you—your cunt is drooling all over my cock, baby. Wettest pussy in the fucking world, shit—"
Your walls clench from his words, another wave of your juices gushing out from your pussy. No one else can make you hornier than the man fucking you right at this very moment. His brows are furrowed in concentration, mind unable to think of anything else aside from his cock rearranging your guts. He's practically pierced everywhere, and the fact that he has a full-sleeve tattoo covering the whole of his right arm only aids on to your arousal.
He catches you momentarily staring at him, and he only simpers at you. "Fuck, like what you see, baby?" The clench you do confirms your thought. "Yeah, I know you do, baby. Your cunt is so fucking wet for me, isn't it? Such a good fucking cunt, taking dick so obediently, yeah?"
"S-So good," you mewled on his shoulder, breathing becoming labored when his tip repeatedly nudges your sweet spot. The obscene noises increase in volume, which encourages Jungkook to remain consistent with his thrusts.
Everything feels messy and sticky down below where your arousal has certainly reached Jungkook's balls, covering them in white as some of it land on your ass where they clap in motion of his rough thrusts.
Jungkook swears to God that he's losing it every minute, feeling his climax build up faster than usual, too lost in the incredible sensation of your tight walls clinging onto his length for dear life. Oh, and was he extremely whipped for the way you keep creaming around the base of his cock as if you're marking him as your own. He tries to hold back the fighting orgasm bubbling within his gut, but you just had to keep him snug against your warm folds for one last time until he's eventually reaching his breaking point.
"Shit, baby, your cunt's so fucking good I think I'm gonna cum soon—" He draws out one last whine before he's filling up the thin latex material. He breathes heavily, knowing that he's never been the one to cum first during sex. Feeling his dick immediately soften, he pushes you off his cock and pulls the condom off his shaft, hastily flipping you around so he's the one on top of you this time. He grips your knees to force your legs wide, kneeling down so his face is directly in front of your dribbling cunt.
"You haven't cum yet, haven't you, angel?"
"N-No," you stutter, sensing the proximity of his face between your folds.
"Sad you didn't get to cum on my cock, but my fingers will do the trick for now."
Before you could even fully react to his statement, he's already plunging three long digits in your warm cunt, plunging them inside and out at a swift rate that has your eyes rolling to the back of your skull in an instant.
"Holy shit, pussy still so fucking tight even after getting split open with my cock." He bites his lip, pleased with the wet noises your cunt makes whenever he digs them deep within your cavern. You throw your head back as if you're floating on clouds, eyes giving in as you surrender to Jungkook's fingers finishing you off.
"Such a good girl," he coos, "taking my fingers like your pussy's made for them."
You can feel your high lingering in your lower abdomen, that familiar knot beginning to form and Jungkook detects it right away. You almost lost it when he began to increase the speed of his fingers, but what has you screaming in such a pornographic manner is his mouth sucking your clit ferociously.
He laps on your clit like a madman, desperate to reach your climax. Your legs begin to profusely shake, and your screams morph into pleasurable sobs that have Jungkook smiling against your heat. You're flooding more and more juices on his hand, his tongue aiding to your fast-approaching orgasm.
"Don't stop, don't stop, pleeeaasseeee, don't fucking stop!" You pant wildly as your hands fly to his soft locks, gripping on them for dear life to lock his mouth in place of your clit. Jungkook was absolutely shameless for loudly slurping on your wetness, flicking your clit with his tongue simultaneously which brought the cherry on top for your orgasm.
"So good, I'm cumming, shit—"
He temporarily pulls away from your cunt. "Go on and make a mess all over my face, pretty girl. You did so, so fucking well for me."
With that, he sucks on your clit for one last time before your vision fades to black. A large wave of your wetness gushes out of your pussy, forcing his fingers to pull out which has him aiming for your clit right away. He rapidly rubs your clit, groaning in satisfaction with the mess he caused.
"Damn, angel, you just fucking squirted all over me."
You're panting heavily, unable to register anything that Jungkook's saying to you, for the recent orgasm you experienced has just hit you in the head like a truck. Your body is still twitching due to the overstimulation, but Jungkook didn't seem to care at all.
Jungkook appreciates how your pussy appears to be more glossy from how much you squirted, licking his lips in temptation before leaning in to swipe a fat stripe of his tongue from the bottom of your folds to your gorging clit. You shiver from the overstimulation, taking the pleasure nonetheless.
How can you ever make him stop when this man is an absolute fucking sex god?
"Fuck, your pussy's so sweet, baby," he whines on your folds before proceeding to flick his tongue left and right at a rapid pace. Your eyes struggle to keep themselves open, for the only sensation you yearn to keep is his mouth working wonders on you. Your moans increase in both volume and pitch, and you swear the man eating you out like a whole buffet is about to pull another mind-boggling orgasm out of you.
He only adds on to your rapture when he inserts three of his slender digits inside you again. You gasp loudly, legs profusely spasming to the point where you can't keep them open anymore. You attempt to squeeze your thighs between Jungkook's face, which causes him to forcefully pry them open when he growls on your pussy.
"This cunt will be the fucking death of me, angel," he chuckles, planting a soft peck on your clit contrary to the merciless motion of his fingers. "Make a mess one more time for me, sweetheart, hm?"
"I-I can't," you sob, nails clawing on the fabric of the couch as you feel your climax flying to its peak. "Too much..!"
"You can and you fucking will," he growls again, and the vibrations felt on your heat is what triggers another mind-shattering orgasm to crash down on you. Your legs wail around from the strong intensity, but Jungkook held you still. His mouth remains unbothered when you spill your juices all over his lips, happily lapping up on your remains.
The overstimulation makes you shudder, and your cunt at this point is overly sensitive from the continuous motions of his wet tongue. "T-Too much." You use all of your remaining strength to push his head away, and you're thankful he did, only to land a wad of spit onto your sensitive cunt, anyway. He rubs the small bundle of nerves in slow, circular motions, which makes you whine.
"Jungkook, I really c-can't anymore," you whine, and he finally separates himself away from your cunt despite the addiction coursing in his veins. He leans down on your face to pull you in one last tender kiss. Your taste has definitely made its mark on Jungkook's lips, evident when he tangles his tongue with yours.
He's the first to pull away before things become more heated again, abruptly carrying you in the air with his taut arms to bring you to his bedroom. "You should look at yourself, pretty," he snickers, "You look fucking adorable in my arms like this."
You blush at his comment, shying yourself away from his gaze which Jungkook merely chuckled to. He brings you to his bedroom where he provides you with the most tender care you've experienced in your life, gently cleaning you up here and there with a wet tissue as well as giving you a generous donation with one of his shirts to keep you warm.
Jungkook was never a big fan of aftercare, preferring to keep things casual by letting whoever he hooked up with leave right away. However, seeing you laying there, exhausted from everything, gave him this strong urge to cradle you in his arms in an instant, which makes him exactly do that.
In tangled sheets, you and Jungkook sleep through the night with your limbs intertwining one another. He couldn't exactly place the blossoming sensation in his chest, but he decides to brush it off, thinking it'll all wither away in the morning.
Boy, was he wrong.
After last night
After last night, I think I'm in love with you
The next day, Jungkook wakes up next to the large empty space of his bed. At first, he could hardly remember everything that occurred last night, until the memories all came crashing down at him at once when the image of your face appeared in his brain.
His heart hammers the moment he thought about the long, yet ephemeral night he spent with you. His first instinct is to get up from bed and call out your name, thinking you're still somewhere within his residence.
"___?" He's been chanting your name like a broken toy, searching for every part of his penthouse. To no avail, though, it seems you have left Jungkook alone without bidding him a proper farewell. The only trace of you he has is the small note you wrote placed on top of the counter. It merely stated about you leaving extra early for personal reasons, saying you enjoyed the night with him nonetheless.
However, Jungkook feels himself pouting when you didn't bother leaving a number for him nor any sort of connection that'll have him talk to you again. He reminisces about the valuable time he cherished with you last night, remembering even the smallest details of you. His favorite feature of yours is definitely your smile, following the sound of your giggles echoing through his ears. You possess the plumpest lips that are worth dying for, and definitely the belle of the party last night.
To top it all off, you also had the sweetest pussy he's ever laid his hands on.
He didn't realize that he's been staring into empty space for the past few minutes, immediately blinking away any thoughts of you before deciding to proceed with his daily routine.
A lingering sensation of longing for you still remains in his chest, though. And it's slowly driving him to madness.
After last night, he's probably in love with you for all he knows.
Woke up and I can't get you out of my head
After last night, I don't know what to do
Jungkook has never seen himself be this crazy for a woman, let alone it being after a supposed one night stand.
Did you perhaps cast a hex on him? Your face haunts him even during the middle of daylight. You're like an addiction he can't get rid of no matter how hard he tries. You come to him like you were meant for him, and he can't help but be simultaneously overwhelmed and amused from how much he's thinking about you.
He can't think straight from how much you've been conquering his mind throughout the day, spacing out every minute and so to cling onto the last traces of you by solely remembering you.
Jeon Jungkook is absolutely head over heels for you.
(Baby, you've got to tell me)
When I'm gon' see you again
On the couch is Jungkook endlessly scrolling through his phone, checking out every social media app possible to possibly find you and gain contact with you for the sake of his remaining sanity. It seems like fate has been on the wrong side with him when he's unable to find a hint of you no matter how thorough he searches.
He can only sigh when his hope begins to plummet. Perhaps you were only meant to be another mere one night stand that'll add on to Jungkook's promiscuous history and nothing more. After all, you were aware from the very beginning that a man like Jungkook can't be trusted, thus making you leave before you could possibly get attached to the man.
However, after last night, he doesn't bat a single eye to any other woman whenever he's out with his friends.
After last night, you're all that takes up most of Jungkook's mind.
After last night, he began doing the craziest shit all because of you.
After last night, Jungkook only clings onto one question for the following weeks of his life: When is he going to see you again?
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after last night (two)
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sunkissed-zegras · 12 hours
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𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 / 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐄 / 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ─ JH⁸⁶
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TRACK 18 ─── IMGONNAGETYOUBACK
TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !
౨ৎ ─ summary | almost a year ago, your whole was shattered by the one person you'd never thought would hurt you. and now you were back in the city where it all started with one simple mission ─ get him back.
─ word count | 2.5k
─ warnings | oof where do i begin, angst? obviously second-chance romance, slightly suggestive, mention of drinking/getting tipsy, jack being a cocky ass, slightly fluffy? idk just a lot of word vomit but yeah!
─ taglist |
─ ev's notes | yaya! first ttpd celly fic is out!! hoorayyeeee!!! also i've been listening to this album like on fucking repeat since friday and holy shit, this is probably my third fav now (sorry speak now). i also literally can't choose a fav but according to my music app, i've listened to so high school 72 times since it came out!!!!!!!!
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YOU SWORE YOU'D NEVER COME back to New Jersey ─ but, here you were.
How you ended up here, tipsy and alone in this bar? You're not exactly sure. What you do know is that the night started in your childhood home with your parent's very expensive bottle of wine. And now you were here, in downtown Jersey in one of your old high school dresses that fits a little tighter than it did almost 5 years ago.
Your lips were stained red as you ordered another glass of Blueberry Gin & Tonic. You didn't know when you had started drinking Gin & Tonic but a lot had changed in the last couple of months. You didn't even know who you really were anymore, it was blurry.
And you could blame all of that on your high-school sweetheart ─ the person you'd thought you'd spend the rest of your life with. Key word: thought, as in past-tense.
As you swirled the ice in your glass, memories flooded back like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your mind. The late-night drives down highway roads, the whispered promises of forever, and the way your heart used to skip a beat at the sight of his smile. But somewhere along the way, those promises faded into echoes, and the smiles became almost bitter memories.
It all came crashing down a few months ago. The pain was like a dagger through your heart, leaving you gasping for air in a world suddenly devoid of color. You lost the one person in your life who made you, you. You had to relearn who you really were without him.
And in the aftermath, you tried to pick up the pieces of your shattered and almost confusing life, but the wounds were too deep, the scars too raw. So you ran, running from the memories that now haunted you, seeking solace in the anonymity of far-away cities and unfamiliar faces.
But no matter how far you ran, you couldn't outrun the ghosts of your past. They followed you like shadows, lurking in the corners of your mind, waiting for a moment of weakness to strike.
And tonight was no different.
When your eyes locked with his familiar blue ones, a particular ghost of your past appeared. And you didn't miss the way you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw his now grown-out hair (you'd never let him grow it out when you were together) and his soft stubble that you always made him shave. But it suited him, he looked more mature.
But you weren't surprised, it almost seemed like fate. Almost. If it weren't for the fact that you knew, in the back of your mind, he always liked spending his Saturdays playing pool with his friends, in this exact bar. You pretended like you hadn't planned this entire thing.
And so you feigned ignorance, pretending as if you hadn't noticed him at all. You kept gazing at him, taking him in. You felt the anger rise in your body as your nose flared, beginning to think sober up again. You took another swig of your drink and turned away from him, you could practically hear the wheels turning inside his head as he analyzed you right back.
A few moments pass and as you predicted, you felt a tap on your shoulder. "Y/N?"
You met his gaze and it felt so much different from the last time he'd looked at you. He looked... surprised? Is that even the right word? You felt his eyes scan you up and down, the tight dress fitting you perfectly in his mind.
You, too, had changed since the last time he'd saw you. Your hair was slightly shorter and more put together, you looked healthier and more mature. Less like a teenager and more like an adult now, but that's just how aging works, right? Not only did your looks change, but the way you carried yourself.
God, you were sexy. Jack always knew you were beautiful, it was undeniable. But after not seeing you for months now, you looked like a dream ─ a hauntingly beautiful vision that stirred something deep within him. He couldn't help but be mesmerized by the way you carried yourself, with a newfound confidence and poise that spoke of strength.
He was at a loss of words. But it was Jack, of course he didn't let it show. He plastered on his award-winning smirk and let his gaze fall back on to your face. "I didn't know you were back in Jersey, you shoulda texted."
Your face contorted into surprise. Was he really trying to pretend like nothing happened? Oh, two can play that game. "I was just visiting family." Your red lips turned into a tipsy smile. "But you're right, I should've texted. How have you been?"
"Awesome. Is this seat taken?" Jack didn't wait for an answer, he just pulled out a chair and sat down. He glanced down at your drink, the smirk still very much evident in face.
God, how much you wanted to just smash his face in. But you swallowed the anger with your drink, letting him study you for a few more moments.
"Since when do you drink?" His tone was amused as he watched you swallow the liquid so effortlessly, like it was water.
Since you left, you wanted to shout. "Not until recently."
You watched as he leaned back in his chair, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. "And what brought about this newfound appreciation for alcohol?" He asked, his tone still but the underlying curiosity evident in his eyes.
"Life." you said simply, your voice barely above a whisper. "Life has a funny way of changing things."
He nodded, as if he understood, but you could see the doubt flickering behind his eyes. He didn't know the half of it, didn't know the pain and the heartache you had endured in his absence. And part of you wanted to keep it that way, wanted to shield him from the truth of how much he had hurt you.
But another part of you, a smaller part buried deep within all the hurt and bitterness, wanted him to know. Wanted him to see the scars he had left on your soul, to feel the weight of the words left unsaid between you. But not to burden him, to somehow reverse all the pain he'd caused you.
"So, what have you been up to?" you asked, deflecting the conversation away from yourself. "Anything exciting?" By anything, you really meant anyone.
You saw the way Jack's smirk faltered as he shook his head. "Nope, nothin' new." But he knew that you knew the real answer.
Two months, it took him two months to move on from a 4 year relationship. "Really?" you asked, your voice laced with skepticism. "No new hobbies, no new friends, no new... interests?"
Jack chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer to you, his gaze locking with yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. "Well, I might have picked up a few new hobbies," he admitted, his voice low. "But nothing as exciting as running into you here, that's for sure."
Despite yourself, you felt a small, genuine smile tug at the corners of your lips at his charming response. He had always had a way with words, a charisma that could disarm even the most guarded of hearts.
"There she is," his voice was soft as he watched the curves of your lips turn upward. "I missed that."
His words sent a warm flutter through your chest, a mixture of nostalgia and longing swirling within you like a whirlpool. Despite everything that had happened between you, there was still a part of you that missed the comfort of his presence, the familiarity of his smile.
"Well, don't let it get to your head," you teased, although the playful tone of your voice couldn't mask the vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. "I wouldn't want you thinking you can charm your way out of everything."
"I'm not trying to, trust me. I can't help it." Jack smirked as he shrugged. "And for the record, I did miss it. I don't remember the last time I've seen your genuine smile."
Your smile faltered as your stomach squeezed in anxiety. The last couple of months of your relationship was spent only arguing, and the smiles had become a rarity, buried beneath layers of resentment and hurt. You swallowed hard, the memories of those final days weighing heavy on your heart like a rock.
"Yeah, well, it's been a while," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you fought to push aside the memories threatening to overwhelm you. "A lot has changed since then."
"I can tell," his eyes scanned your body and you felt your heart jump. He wet his lips as his blue eyes met yours again, a grin playing on his lips. "I remember this dress. You wore it at my draft party, I remember."
Your breath caught in your throat at his words, memories of that night flooding back with a rush of emotions. You remembered the excitement in the air, the pride shining in his family's eyes as he celebrated the culmination of years of hard work and dedication.
"Yeah, I remember," you said softly, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "It feels like so long ago."
Jack nodded, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his lips as he reached across the table to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I never forgot that night," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Or how beautiful you looked in this dress."
Your heart skipped a beat and you felt like the air was knocked out of you at his words. Goddamn him, his smooth-talk, and that damned cologne that made you feel high off of him. "Shut up," was all you could muster as Jack chuckled.
"Let's go take a walk."
And like always, Jack didn't wait for an answer. He just grabbed your hand and began walking toward the exit. Your mind raced as Jack's touch sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. And despite your inner turmoil and the warning bells ringing in your head, there was a part of you that couldn't resist the pull of his charm, the familiarity of his touch.
You hated how he still had this effect on you and how confident he was, he always made decisions for you. You're not sure if it's really a bad thing, because how can something so bad feel so insanely good?
"Okay," you said softly more to yourself than him, your voice barely above a whisper. You allowed him to lead you away from the dimly lit bar and out into the cool night air.
As you walked side by side, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension, you couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu wash over you. It was like stepping back in time, back to a simpler era when the world was young and full of promise.
Jack pulled you into his chest as you walked, his arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders as you leaned into him, seeking solace in his familiar warmth.
Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, a part of you still longed for the comfort of his embrace, for the reassurance of his presence by your side.
"The dress still fits you so well," Jack finally spoke up. You could feel practically hear the grin on his face as you rolled your eyes, a smile tugging on your lips.
"Yeah, well, it's a good thing I haven't outgrown it," you replied, your voice light and teasing as you leaned into his embrace subconsciously.
Jack chuckled, his arm tightening around you. "You'd look in a garbage bag, princess. You can never outgrow anything."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Jack." You quipped.
"It's gotten me this fair, huh?" Jack's tone was amused as you felt yourself roll your eyes at his cockiness. He let out a laugh as he squeezed your arms, the way he knew you liked.
You wanted to slap the smirk off his face but instead, you just shook your head at his teasing. He still knew you so well, even after so long. As much as you wanted to resist his charm, there was a small part of you that couldn't help but be swept away by it. Jack had always had a way of getting under your skin, of finding the cracks in your armor and worming his way into your heart.
"You're insufferable," you said, though the teasing lilt in your voice betrayed the fondness you couldn't quite suppress.
Jack chuckled, his laughter warm and infectious as he leaned in closer to press a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary.
"But you love me anyway," he said, his voice soft as he met your gaze with a knowing smile.
You couldn't deny the truth of his words, no matter how much you wanted to. Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, a part of you still loved him ─ had always loved him. Would you always love him?
You gazed back at him, his grin even bigger as his hand squeezed your arms again. The more you stared, the more you slipped back right where he wanted. Fuck, you were back.
Your hands came up to touch his soft stubble, one of the many new things about him. Something you never thought you'd like, you swore his clean-face was your favorite but he proved you wrong.
"You like it?" Jack asked, his voice low and husky as he watched you trace your fingers along his stubbled jawline. There was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the power he still held over you.
"Yeah," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you met his gaze, your fingers lingering against his stubble. "It suits you. You look... different, but in a good way."
A smile tugged at the corners of Jack's lips, his eyes sparkling with gratitude as he reached up to gently cup your cheek in his hand, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
"Thank you," he said, his voice warm with sincerity. "I'm glad you think so."
You smiled genuinely, the anger slowly dissipating as you looked into the eyes of the man you'd once loved, wholeheartedly. His face may have changed but his gaze was still the same, the same blue eyes you'd been drawn to from the beginning.
"Let's head back to the car, yeah?" His voice came out hoarse and low, you could hear practically hear the need in his voice. And again, you let him lead you back to his car and eventually, to his home.
Your lips curved into a smirk, you'd had gotten exactly what you'd sought out to do. You'd gotten him back, but who ever doubted you?
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alloftheimagines · 1 year
Text
joel miller | survive
masterlist | taglist | ko-fi
words: 4.7k
warnings: 18+! not for minors! please please please read the warnings and skip this one if you're uncomfortable with the subject matter.
episode eight reimagining with the same hard-hitting themes: blood, violence, cannibalism, sexual assault, killing, abduction, vomit. reader takes the place of ellie. angst. hurt/comfort. no happy ending as requested because i wasn't sure that could exist in these circumstances, but there is now a part two where joel takes care of reader and the fic ends on a lighter note.
prompt: Hi! Would love to request something for Joel Miller 🥰 Angst but with a happy ending, after seeing episode 8 I thought maybe reader is with Joel and Ellie, but this time Ellie stays back to keep an eye on Joel so reader gets kidnapped and is the one Joel basically comes back from the dead to save? hahshxdjfbf I just imagine them reuniting and UGH 🥹❤️ Feel free to ignore this if inspiration doesn’t strike!
tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld
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You’re terrified of losing Joel. So terrified that instead of watching him shiver and sweat on an old, bloodied mattress as his infection spreads, you opt to go out and hunt. It isn’t solely selfish. You need food, and Ellie needs to rest. At least this way you’re doing something productive rather than waiting for a miracle. 
Still, it’s difficult to concentrate on anything but the knot in your stomach, the one that keeps asking “what if?” What if Joel doesn’t make it? How will you survive past that grief for long enough to keep Ellie safe? How will you go back to Jackson and tell Tommy that his brother is gone?
You’re lost in those thoughts when you hear the crunching of snow, and you try to shake them away, readying Joel’s shotgun as you search for the source. 
A deer. It’s so beautiful that for a second, you forget that it’s supposed to be your next meal. You’d forgotten beauty still existed in a world so broken, forgotten that nature can still be kind. 
But humans can’t. Not if you want to survive; not if you want Joel to survive. 
You take a deep breath. Adjust your posture. Shoot. 
The bullet doesn’t hit where you want it to; where you know you should have been aiming if only you weren’t so distracted. The deer darts away. Whispering a curse, you follow the trail of blood —
And find more than you bargained for. Two men wait with the dying deer at their feet. They look… clean. Comfortable. Not people struggling to find food or clothing. You raise your gun again immediately, and theirs point back at you. 
“Put your guns down,” you order, trying to sound braver than you feel. You did alright before Joel came into your life, but it’s been a while since you’ve been alone and it’s hard to summon the strength that used to come so easy. 
“You first,” the darker-haired man says, narrowing his gaze. 
The fairer man glances warily before slowly lowering his. Good. At least one of them is smart. 
“Not going to happen. On the ground. Kick it away.” You shift on your feet, gripping your gun tightly and readying your finger on the trigger. You don’t enjoy killing people, but you will if you have to. If it means getting back to Joel and Ellie. 
“James,” the unarmed man says, calm authority firm in his voice. The one in charge, then. “Do as she says.” He holds up his hands in surrender as his friend, James, finally puts his gun away. “We mean no trouble. We’d just like to talk.”
“So talk,” you bite out, making no move to lower your own gun. 
“Alright.” His breath is visible in the cool air, nose pink and runny. “My name is David. This is James. We’re from a town just south of here.”
“Good for you. Maybe you should go back now.”
An amused smirk twitches at his mouth. “Thing is, we have a lot of mouths to feed down there, and this deer… it would keep us going for a week. Maybe two.”
“Shame it isn’t yours,” you say.
A short sigh escapes him. “Right. It is a shame. But if I could offer you warm shelter and good food, a welcoming community, why couldn’t we share?” 
You raise your eyebrows. “I’m not interested in negotiating.”
“With all due respect, ma’am… as far as I can tell, you’re all alone in these woods. There’s no reason why you have to be.”
It’s clear the other man, James, isn’t in on David’s kind offer. His mouth is pursed in a thin line, jaw grinding as though he’s holding back from saying something. Welcoming community, my ass. 
Still, an idea strikes. You need something else more than you need the deer, and if this town has supplies… “You have medicine in this town of yours?”
David hesitates before dipping his head. “We do.”
“Antibiotics?”
“Yes…”
Hope swells in you for the first time since Joel was injured. 
“If you put the gun down, we’d be much more open to discussing what it is you need,” he continues. “Please?”
Gulping, you slowly lower your gun — but you keep it in your hand just in case, stomach still filled with unease. Not every settlement will be like Jackson, and there’s something… off about these two. 
“If you get me that medicine, you can have the deer.”
“We can do you one better. We have a nurse down in the village who can help you with your injury. If you just come with us…”
“No,” you say. “You’ll bring the medicine here, to me.”
Another strange smile. “You’ll be much more likely to survive the winter if you let us help you.”
Impatient, you raise your gun again. “Bring it or stop wasting my damn time.”
David lifts his hands again. “Okay. Alright. James, go and fetch what the lady needs.” 
“David—” James begins to protest, but is quickly cut off. 
“Go on now.” 
Reluctantly, he does, and then it’s just the two of you. 
“I know a place you can get warm,” he offers. “It’s just through the trees. An old greenhouse. No need to wait out here in the cold.”
It makes your gut twist, how he seems to be determined to get you moving, to take you out of these woods. And there’s a glint in his eye, something untrustworthy there — even his right-hand man seemed to see it. Nobody follows orders like that with pure reasons. He’s… scared, or at least threatened. 
“I’m fine just here.”
“Okay. What’s your name?”
“I’m the one holding a gun, which means I’ll be the one asking questions. How many people are there in this town of yours?”
“Forty. Like I said, there’s room for one more. Perhaps it was God’s will, us meeting today.”
Oh, good, you think. He’s a God botherer. You didn’t particularly subscribe to religion before the world turned to shit, and you sure as hell have better things to do than pray now. 
“Unless you’re not alone.” His voice seems to lower as though he knows something, and you stiffen instinctively. “Is the injury yours?”
“It’s none of your business.”
He no longer seems to be staring down the barrel of your gun, but right into you. “Because a few of our men had some trouble a few days ago. A man, a woman, and a young girl. Man was thought to be badly injured, you see. If he lived… well, I’d imagine that kinda wound would be susceptible to a nasty infection.”
He knows. He always knew. The raiders you crossed paths with, the ones who hurt Joel… 
You no longer feel like the one holding the gun. You feel like the deer bleeding on the snow between you. Prey. Still, you set your chin. “I don’t know what you mean. I travel alone.”
“See, I believe you, but the thing is… my friend, James… he’s not so certain. I’d imagine that once he comes back with that medicine, he’ll be rounding up a few men to go hunting for these people. If what you’re saying is true, I wouldn’t want you to be caught in the middle of that. That’s why it’s much safer you just come with me now, see?” 
Your upper lip curls into a warning snarl, finger twitching on the gun’s trigger. But if you kill him, you won’t get Joel’s medicine. You’ll lose him. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” 
“Hmm.” He debates this. “There’s a third option.”
“Not interested.”
“I think you are,” he pushes. “I think you’re one of them, and I think you’re trying to help your man. Very noble, but strange. You don’t seem a good match. You’re so… young, so calm, and from what I hear, he’s dangerous. Ruthless, even. A cold-blooded killer. Maybe if you come into town with me now, we can arrange for that medicine to be delivered without my brigade charging in and doing some damage. There’s a place for you. Your daughter, too. You don’t need to be tied to him anymore.”
You want to scoff, or else laugh in his face. Does he believe you’re that simple, that stupid? Does he believe you’re a fucking damsel in need of saving?
Anger simmers in you at the thought. “I think it’s about time you shut up.” You point the barrel at his head now, right between his brows.
He doesn’t balk, doesn’t tremble, doesn’t so much as blink, and you’re beginning to understand. He’s the type of man who uses religion to veil whatever monster lies beneath. He isn’t some small-town do-gooder, though he might believe it. 
You dread to think what he might be capable of. 
“I think it’s about time you drop your weapon.” The voice doesn’t belong to David. It comes from behind along with the feeling of cold metal against the back of your skull. You risk a glance over your shoulder to see the man from before, James. You should have heard him creep up, should have seen, but you were so focused on the one in front of you.
Your heart thunders as you realise you might not get out of it this time. 
“We only want you to come with us,” David says, eyes round with feigned innocence. “That’s all. We don’t want to hurt you.”
“The gun to my head says otherwise. What would God say about this?” you retort, dripping venom because it’s all you have left. 
A strange sadness crosses David’s face. “It didn’t have to be this way.”
Before you can pull the trigger, something heavy slams into your skull, and then darkness swallows you whole. 
***
You wake in a cage, the taste of blood on your tongue and your wrists bound by rope. David is on the other side of the bars in what looks to be a kitchen, utensils hanging on the wall. Great butchers’ knives and cleavers wink at you in the watery daylight. You go cold with fear, crawling to the furthest corner of the cage. 
“Let me go,” you say. “Let me go!” 
“I’m sorry. It’s for your own good,” he says. “You were corrupted, but I can help you see the light again.”
“Why are you doing this?” You’re choking on a sob, thoughts of Joel and Ellie running through your mind. What if they found them? Joel is in and out of consciousness and Ellie can’t fight on her own. 
David curls his fingers around the bars. “It’s God’s will. I was meant to meet you today. This is where you’re supposed to be.”
“In a fucking cage?” you spit, voice echoing around the kitchen. You pull at the rope until your skin splits, crying out when you realise this is it. There’s no way out. You’re trapped, and you have no idea what this man truly wants with you. 
“This is merely a precaution,” he says. “I was wrong about you before. You are dangerous too. You have a dark heart, just like me. If you would just surrender, you could be part of this community.”
You squeeze your eyes closed, clamping down on a plea. You doubt it will do any good. Still, tears roll down your cheeks. “Fuck you,” you whisper. 
“You don’t understand yet. You will.” David takes a step back, and somehow the prospect of him leaving you here causes your stomach to turn to water. 
“Don’t do this,” you say. But he walks away with a glint in his eye that promises he will be back, and you’re left alone. 
Dizziness rattles through you as you pull yourself onto your feet, testing the sturdiness of the bars in hopes you’ll find a weak spot. But it’s padlocked closed and the screws are in tightly —
Something catches your eye, pale and fleshy on the kitchen tiles. 
An ear. 
In the kitchen. 
You vomit without warning as it all comes together. You wonder if the community even knows that their leader feeds them people. Wonder who was last in this cage and how long it took for them to become a meal. 
You scramble against the ropes again and pray — not to whatever fucked up God David worships, but someone — that you find a way out. 
***
“Joel!” Ellie shakes him frantically and finally he comes to. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his face drawn and pale, but he finally ate something earlier and she’s been keeping him hydrated as he drifts in and out of sleep.
Now, he frowns and hums in question.
“Y/N isn’t back. She didn’t come back, and now people are here.”
The sound of shuffling outside is only growing louder, and she keeps her voice to a whisper as fear grips her. It’s not like you to go more than two hours without checking in, even if you haven’t caught anything for dinner yet. That four hours have passed means something is wrong, and Ellie doesn’t know what to do, how to find you. She needs Joel. She needs you. 
“What?” Joel struggles to sit up, the mattress groaning under his weight as he clutches his injured stomach. But he’s alert, awake, and that’s better than he’s been in days. 
“She isn’t back,” Ellie says again, voice trembling now. “Someone’s here, Joel. They know about us.” 
Understanding clears through the fog in his eyes slowly, and he looks up as he hears the floorboards creak above. “Shit,” he curses, dragging himself slowly to his knees. Ellie watches, pulling out her own gun. “Hide somewhere. Let me deal with it.”
He’s in no fit state to deal with anything, but when Ellie protests, he shushes her and orders her to do as he says, so she does. And as he readies himself for a fight he can’t win, panic rushes through him. You’re not back. Somebody is here. 
He’s failed again, or at least is about to, and this time it’s you he’s afraid to lose. 
He summons that anger when the silhouette slowly stalks down the stairs. Summons it a lot more when he’s throwing an arm around the idiot’s neck to squeeze the life out of him. 
***
Joel has forgotten his injury. He’s forgotten anything but you; the thought of you alone, in danger, afraid. His fingers curl into fists at his side, and when the attacker finally rouses, he orders Ellie to leave the room. He doesn’t want her to see what comes next; who he becomes when he’s trying to protect the people he loves. 
Nausea twists through him, but it mingles with anticipation. Some sick excitement. He’s good at being violent. Better at being vengeful. 
“Where is she?” he asks, voice just steady enough to be assertive. 
The attacker mumbles something, and Joel’s patience quickly dwindles. 
“Who are you?” he asks, louder now. 
The attacker shakes his head. Doesn’t want to play. 
Joel brandishes his knife. 
The attacker’s eyes widen in fear as he presses the point into his finger, ignoring the throbbing in his stomach. “You want to do this the hard way?”
“I'm not telling you anything.”
Joel tilts his head and clenches his jaw. Then in one swift motion, he’s gripping the arms of the chair the attacker is tied to, quivering with anger as he towers over him. “Last chance.”
The attacker purses his lips, and Joel steps back, watching him sink in relief — relishing in that false sense of security. Then he throws the first punch, the impact of fist to jaw singing through his bones. He shakes out his hand, punches again. Blood splatters, but he goes again twice more just for good measure, growing weaker with every blow. He stops when he realises that, knowing he needs to conserve his energy to get to you. 
“Where the fuck is she?” he bellows.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” 
He plunges the knife into the attackers knee, the sound of bone crunching and flesh squelching as blood dribbles down his jeans and the attacker cries out. That’s when he begins to beg. That’s when Joel knows he’ll tell him anything. 
“Alright!” he’s whimpering. “Alright, please!” 
“Tell me where she is or I swear to god, I’ll pop you’re fucking kneecap off.” Joel drives the blade deeper, thirsty now. Desperate. He can’t do this without you. He needs you safe. If he finds out you’re hurt…
“With David!” he blubbers. “She’s with David in town!” 
“What tooooown?” (oh, you thought I wouldn’t?)
“Silver Lake!” 
“Who the fuck is David and what does he want with her?” 
“He…” the man chokes on his own sobs again, and Joel tugs on the knife, earning a piercing scream. “I don’t know what he wants, okay? He’s the leader! He… he took to her, I don’t know!” 
A chill crawls down Joel’s spine and his vision blurs as he pauses. His blood-drenched fingers tremble, and he doesn’t know how to make them stop. “What do you mean, he took to her?” 
The man spits out blood. “He likes her. Wants her to join him. I don’t know, man. I don’t know. I told you everything.” 
Joel wants to tear him apart then and there, but he pulls out his map, yanking the knife from the man’s knee to put the hilt in his mouth. The attacker howls, tears streaking down his cheeks. Joel wants to tell him he’ll do a lot fucking worse if he finds you harmed. He wants to say a lot of things, but cotton fills his mouth and he needs to find you. He needs to stop wasting time. “Point it out to me.”
“It’s not a real town. It’s just a fucking community. I don’t know.”
Joel grips the man’s collar, and his voice falls deathly low. “Point it out to me or I’ll make sure your other knee matches.”
It’s enough motivation for the attacker to pinpoint a spot. His blood stains the map, highlighting a small valley between the forest and mountains. 
Joel puts the map in his back pocket and slits the man’s throat before he can beg for his life. He’s not feeling merciful today. 
***
David comes back for you an hour later. “Have you reconsidered?” 
You only glare at him, your wrists bloody and your eyes gritty from so many shed tears. To your surprise, he unlocks the cage. Despite your better instinct, you stay seated, stay calm. You won’t get out of this if you try to run now. He has the upper hand, and you’ll let him have it, hoping his arrogance, his underestimation of you, will be his downfall. 
“You must be hungry,” he says. “Come. Let me show you what I can offer.”
Shakily, you rise from the ground. “Will you at least untie me?”
“I’ll think about it.”
He leads you out of your kitchen. When he’s not looking, you lean your back to the table and snatch an abandoned knife, slipping it up your sleeve. 
The front of the building is laid out like an old, cheap restaurant and bar, candles burning and booths lining the windows. 
“I’m glad you’ve calmed down,” he says. “Now we’ll get a chance to know each other properly.”
Slowly, you begin to saw at the rope with the knife as he leads you to a booth. Two plates are set at the table, a candle lit in the middle, and you think about the ear on the floor. Wonder if the meat in the stew is not animal, not your deer. You want to throw up again, but you swallow down the bile in favour of relief: the rope has snapped. You keep your hands behind your back as you shuffle in your seat, trying to avoid looking at the meal. The smell of it makes your stomach turn. 
“What do you want from me?” you ask finally. 
David places a napkin on his lap. “I’m showing you hospitality. Hospitality you haven’t earned, might I add. Where is your gratitude?”
“Where the fuck is my medicine?”
Without warning, he stands and slaps you, and you can’t control your anger as the sting prickles along your cheekbone. You throw your plate at him, the food splattering his face and staining his shirt, and then you run. 
A mistake. He hauls you back quickly, and the two of you topple to the floor as he slams your wrist down, forcing the knife away. He pins your hands and then straddles you, and you know what comes next. You know, and you shouldn’t, and this isn’t happening. 
“You need to be taught some manners,” he croons, taking your chin in his hands. “A girl like you… you need to learn how to submit. Especially when we’re married. But don’t worry.” He leans down as you squirm, whispering into your ear, “We have time for that.”
“No!” You shout, slapping him away and doing your best to wriggle away. But he’s heavy on top of you, and he’s reaching for his belt, and there’s no way out. No hope. Nothing. “Get the fuck off me, you sick bastard!” 
He slaps you again, lash twice as hard this time, and you taste blood. 
You refuse to let it end like this. You refuse to let him destroy you. You let your body go slack as he unbuckles his belt, reaching out a hand and scrambling for the knife again. It’s under a chair not far from you — you just have to wriggle a little further. 
“It’s sad that you can’t accept that this is how it’s supposed to be. This is God’s will. You and me… we’re the same, underneath. We have the same violent heart,” David is muttering, and there, your fingertips brush the hilt. Determination renewed, you extend yourself again and this time the knife falls into your hand. 
You don’t have time to think; he’s unbuttoning his jeans, and like hell are you going to spend another moment beneath him. You drive the knife straight into his neck, and his eyes bulge as he gurgles on his own blood. As he goes limp, you push him off you — and stab again, again, again, spitting every bit of revenge into your movements as his blood covers his skin and your clothes. 
“You twisted fucker!” you’re yelling, tears rolling down your face as the shock draws in, the disgust. He’d been so close to taking you. So close to making you a victim after so long spent fighting to be a survivor. “Go to fucking hell!” 
You only stop when the fear numbs and you realise he’s no longer moving. Blood soaks both his shirt and yours, and you push yourself off him. His dead, milky eyes stare at you. When you catch a candle guttering in your periphery, you grab it. Crouch with it in your hand. Light him on fire. The flames spread along his clothes, and that’s how you leave him. 
Ashes. Bloodied, dead ashes. 
***
Joel and Ellie have fought their way through a blizzard. He’s surprised he’s still upright, but he saw bodies hanging in the stable and he can’t collapse now. Not for Ellie, and not for you. This community is built on something worse than infected or fascism, and when he found your jacket, your backpack, in that same room as the corpses… 
He can’t see anything but red and white. 
Ellie stops behind him suddenly. “Did you hear that?”
“What?” He catches his breath, looking around. There’s a long building close by, but he hasn’t seen any movement yet. 
A scream rents through the air, and he knows it’s you. His heart picks up, stomach plummeting as he runs around to find the entrance. And there you are, collapsing out of the doorway. 
He says your name as he catches your wrist, and you instantly cower away, screaming. “Please, no! Please, don’t!” 
He’s never heard you beg for anything before, and his world tilts on its axis. What the fuck have they done to you?
“Baby, it’s me!” He draws you close, cupping your jaw with his palms. Your eyes are haunted, face pale, and there’s blood. So much blood. You’re still fighting him, pushing on his chest, and he stumbles back. “It’s me. Look at me. It’s me, darlin’. It’s Joel!”
Your breaths are ragged as realisation finally dawns across your features. “Joel,” you whisper. 
“It’s me,” he says again, eyes filling with tears.
Your gaze moves to Ellie, and only then do you crumple. He catches you just before you fall to your knees, straining against his injury. “Oh, baby. Oh, baby girl,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m here now. I’m here now. You’re okay.”
Sobs wrack through you and he wraps his arms around you, holding on so tight he worries he might hurt you. But you clutch his shoulders just as hard, fingernails digging through his coat. You shake beneath him, and his own tears drip onto his cheeks. He pulls away quickly to look you up and down. Blood streaks through your hair.
“Where are you hurt, baby? Tell me where it hurts.”
You shake your head. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know, Joel. I don’t…”
It’s like you’re not even here with him, and he wants to break. But he has to stay upright for you. He has to be strong for you. He shrugs his coat off quickly and puts it around you, catching sight of your reddened wrists as you adjust the collar. Those bastards tied you up. Hatred drowns him, and he looks at the building you emerged from only to find orange flames flickering in the window. It must have been you, he knows, and he can at least feel proud of you for that, but still, the thought of what they might have done...
“Alright. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He pulls you to his chest, offering his other hand out for Elllie. She takes it, looking shaky as she carries both her bag and yours. 
“They were… They were eating people, Joel,” you say, voice thick and unrecognisable. “I just wanted to get medicine, and they took me. They took me. They were eating people and he was going to… He wanted…” 
“I know,” he murmurs, holding you tighter. “I know.”
You stop without warning. “They said they had medicine. You… We have to go back.”
“No, no, hey.” He laces his fingers through yours. “We ain’t going back there for anything.”
“The infection—” you protest.
“Look at me. I’m here. I’m okay. I just needed to rest is all. We don’t need any medicine now. We just need to get you somewhere safe.” His heart pangs. The fact you’ve been through hell and are still willing to go back to help him… sometimes he wishes you weren’t so damn selfless. He should have been the one protecting you today. It’s his fault you’re here. His fault you’re hurt. 
You scrape your hair back and then, looking at your shaky fingers, seem to finally see all the blood. “His blood is in my hair.”
He can at least be relieved it isn’t your own, but the look on your face… he’s never seen so many scars written in one expression. 
“I need to get it out. I need…”
“We’re gonna. We’re gonna help you clean up soon, okay?” He tucks your hair away, lost, because he doesn’t know how to do anything else. Doesn’t know how to make it all go away. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His voice cracks.
Your chest heaves with a stifled sob as you rub your hands and look out towards the lake. “Oh, god.”
Joel closes his eyes, wrought with regret. At his side, Ellie turns her gaze to the floor. It’s his worst fear come true. The reason he’d tried to get Tommy on board with taking Ellie the rest of the way. 
He’d failed again. Was always failing. 
All he can do is hold you close as you fall apart.
2K notes · View notes
peterparkersnose · 1 year
Text
Feeling You
pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
word count: 3.6k
warnings: david’s episode and themes along with that, reader is chained up, david is literally creepy and disgusting, reader kills a person, description of death, angst, joel cannot physically feel anything, trauma description, ellie’s aftermath of david, religious trauma, mentions of weapons
a/n hi season finale my life is over at least we got mando still 💪
summary Y/N confesses something to Joel she shouldn’t have when she saw him awake for the first time in weeks after his accident
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read time: 13 mins 10 seconds
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The feeling of panic woke you up. The strange dream you couldn’t remember faded as your senses came back to you. It was cold and your head was pounding. The cold air nipped your nose. Your clothes felt like there was space between the fabric and your skin, you could feel the stinging cold prick your skin. You lay flat on what you could only imagine was a bed. It wasn’t comfortable whatsoever and only made your back stiff. Joel’s flannel from the night before had kept you warm enough to survive. Gaining the muster to move, you tried to yank your feet on the floor. Your right leg was cuffed to the bed pole.
“She’s awake,” you heard someone call, and commotion started around you. Blinking your eyes and trying to adjust to what was happening, the noise of a padlock being opened distracted you. “Good morning,”
You recognized that voice. The man that you and Ellie encountered in the woods. What was his name…David? How did you even get here?
“I’m glad to see your up.”
You scuffled on your hands, propping yourself up in bed. “Where is she?” you shivered, moving your free leg up to your chest. The only other thought that consumed your brain was the little girl you were protecting.
“You must be cold. Here,” David said, snapping his fingers. One of his friends fed a blanket through the bars that were currently entrapping you. He draped the blanket over you. You hated it, but had no choice but to accept it.
“Where is she?” you reiterated. “She’s fine.” David ensured to you. “All comfy like you.”
“This is far from comfortable.” you hissed at him. “Just, tell me a few things and I can make you feel real comfortable.” David said. His tone made your stomach drop.
“Where is he?” David asked, mimicking your insistent question.
You knew he meant Joel. That’s all they wanted. Joel. You and Ellie were just the sad accessories that came along with him. “With the rest of the group.” you lied. David sucked his teeth. “Tell the truth,” he said, standing up over you. Scooting over in the small bed, you tried to put as much distance between you and the man.
“God doesn’t look down well on liars,”
‘What a freak’ you thought to yourself. You remembered reading old stories about cults that mimicked his teachings, or what he had preached at you the night he found you and Ellie.
“What kind of god makes our world a living hell?” you taunted. “Why would you believe in some shit cause? Have you seen what is out there?”
A subtle but dark smile came to David’s face. He brought up his hand and promptly slapped you on the cheek. Hard. The all too familiar needle like feeling seeped in on your cheek. The taste of blood slowly began to form in your mouth.
“We all need a father. We all need some guidance.” David said, bringing his hand up to your face again. You winced, hoping he wouldn’t strike you again. Instead, his fingers grabbed your chin. “There’s always time to repent,”
He inspected your face, forcing it to turn in whichever angle he would like. Blood filled your gums and began to dribble down your face as he squeezed your cheeks together. “Such a pretty thing,” he sighed. You spat in his face. He sighed and wiped the blood and spit mixture from his forehead with his sleeve.
He let go and stepped back. “I see your confidence, I see your leadership, I see myself in you.” he explained, taking another step back. “We could lead, you know. Bring greatness to this group. I could give you a future. A future with me.”
A new kind of fear began as you slowly began to realize what he truly wanted from you. The only thing you were good for in his eyes, maybe besides your flesh. His eyes seemed to undress you under the few layers of clothes you had on. They had taken your coat the previous night and you were left in your jeans and one of Joel’s flannels you stole from his pack to stay warm.
“Just give him up and I’ll give you the world.”
You sat silently. It was obvious that David was getting annoyed. “He’s just your old dad. It’s probably better if my guys get to him before the-”
“He’s not my dad.” you said harshly. “Well,” David laughed. “My apologies.”
He dragged the stool from the corner of the cell to the side of the bed. He straddled the stool and got a little too close for comfort. “Is he her dad?” he asked. You shook your head no. “Uncle, brother, cousin…? I’m trying to understand the relationship so I don’t hurt the little girl too much.”
You looked away and focused on the painted white brick wall. He was searching for leverage, an advantage you were not about to give him. The breathing exercises were not working when you could smell David’s rancid breath on you. “Oh,” he said with a smirk. “I get it.”
“Your with him.”
Closing your eyes, you moved your hand over your face. “Aren’t you a little young for such an old geezer?” he asked. You shook your head no. What a fucking narcissist. This man had to be Joel’s age, and from the looks of how much hair he had left I would say, maybe, older.
The age gap was the one thing keeping you from going the extra step and pursuing Joel. The mutual attraction had been present for a while, but you both were too afraid to face the facts. And now that he was as good as dead, the mere thought of what could have been stung harder than it should have.
“If your not gonna talk, then I’m just going to move to your little friend.” David sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get what he wanted out of you without some sort of leverage. His original plan hadn’t worked.
“No,” you called out, wanting to swallow your words back down. David’s back turned around again. “Then tell me pretty girl,” he said, each step echoing in the jail cell as he got closer to you. “Are you fucking him?” he asked, his nose almost touching yours. With lips pursed and your eyes tightly closed, you shook your head no. Your face rose with heat at the mere implication. 
“Liar.” he spit at you. He left you once again and sat outside your cage with his friends.
You began to doze off. Caged to the bed like a dog and freezing wasn’t the best headspace to stay in. You tried to imagine the penicillin Ellie came back with had some sort of super power and resurrected Joel so he could come kill this red headed motherfucker that wouldn’t stop staring you down. So that he could rescue you and Ellie and you could return to Jackson to get proper treatment and then take Ellie to the lab that was supposedly in Salt Lake City. So Joel could return to you and just be there and be alive. You missed Joel endlessly, even though you were just with him hours prior. And the last time you saw him, he was as good as gone.
As you were dreaming about the unlikely future, the men began to stir. One left, and another followed. There was muffled arguing down the hallway. David was getting angry about all the commotion and went to see what was happening.
“She what?” you heard him yell down the hall. “You mean to tell me she’s escaped?”
Your lungs caught your breath too hard when you heard him say that. She’s escaped? Ellie?
“Watch her.” David commanded, poking his head in the room and yelling at a man who you believed to be named James. He sat down in David’s stool and stared at you. You slowly began to get up, your leg chain dangling off the bed. James didn't say a word. 
Suddenly, two gunshots rang out. You grabbed for the white painted bars blocking you from leaving, and tripping on your leg chain. “No!” you screamed, pulling yourself back up. “No,” you said quieter, the reality of Ellie’s death started to become a little too real for your comfort. 
James had arisen, his hand rested on his gun in it’s holster as he anxiously stared at the door. He took a step back, contemplating what he was going to do. His back was turned to you. Another shot rang out, and James jumped backwards. In the hassle, the keychain holding your key to freedom was conveniently sticking out of his back pocket and was accessible to you. Without hesitation, you grabbed the keys and along fell out his knife. 
James was quick to react, grabbing your hand with the keys interlocked in your fingers. He grunted as your other hand met the set of keys and started to pry his cold, lanky fingers off the keys. James was hesitant to drop his gun, it would have been in reach for you. He was clueless that his knife was in reach where he couldn't see. 
“Fine,” he said, giving up. He let go and let you have the keys. “The second you try anything…” 
He looked over at his gun. He was still level with you on the ground. Sliding the keys behind you, you quickly grabbed the knife from behind him. Panic flashed in his eyes as you grabbed his neck and swiftly impaled his neck with the knife. He began to choke, and you pushed it in once again. His gun fell from his hand as he uselessly pawed at his neck. 
After a few tries with the various keys, you finally unlocked your leg from the chain that had been wrapped around your ankle all night. Quickly, you escaped your jail cell. You grabbed James’s knife from his neck and wiped it off on your jeans. Also, you stole his gun. 
You were shaking. Freezing and adrenaline wasn't the best combination at the moment. You were unsure of where to go. Where was Ellie? Where would Ellie go? You were all she had left. The cold hallway with a door with light pouring out under it seemed like the smart choice. 
When you opened the door, you were hit like a brick wall with a gust of wind blowing snow in your direction. Your arm immediately came to cover your eyes as you hastily made your way through the snow cloud. Just as it was about to clear, two arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you out in to the open. 
After grunting and fighting what you prayed wasn’t David or one of his associates, your hands were held behind your back tightly. Screaming and wriggling, you couldn’t hear the voice of your new partner in crime trying to calm you. 
“Y/N!” you finally heard. The haze around you seemed to settle. “Hey! It’s me,” 
You opened your eyes from the struggle and thought you were hallucinating from the evident dehydration and starvation. His hands now rested on your shoulders as he looked at you with the first inkling of real fear you had ever seen behind his eyes. 
“Are you alright?” Joel asked in a gutted tone, staring at the formation of a red handprint on your face. The fear turned into rage behind his eyes. All you could do was stare in to his face and enjoy the safe feeling once again. An unintentional sob came from you. Joel quickly embraced you. 
His hand shook as he cradled your head in his hand. “I got you,” he whispered, holding your body tight against his. “T-they still have her.” you whispered in his ear. 
Joel’s body stiffened. 
“Where?” he asked, letting you go. He reached for his coat, sliding it off his arms. “I don’t know I was trying to find her and—”
Joel noticed your hands and grabbed for them. They were covered in fresh blood. “Fuck,” he whimpered. “Go find her.” you said, pulling your hands away from his. “But—”
“Go,” you trembled. 
Joel’s longing look was one you were never going to forget. He saw the gun tucked in your pants and gave you a nod. “Hide,” he said in a hushed voice. 
As he was about to leave, you called out his name. He turned to you with a hurtful sigh. He was limping. Swallowing, you spit out the words to the man you had fallen for across this journey across the country. “I love you,” 
He was taken aback. It was definitely sudden and unexpected. His lips parted slightly in shock. Joel’s need to protect Ellie was strong at the moment. He didn’t have time to give in to these childish antics at the moment.
“I…”
His feelings for you wanted to stay, but his duty to Ellie, his duty to Sarah was more important than a silly crush on a silly girl. This whole time he thought he was just being delusional. All the little things, little moments the two of you shared he thought was just out of pure alliance and survival. 
Nausea filled you as you as you realized he had to go. He wasn’t going to say it back; from everything you knew about Joel Miller, you should have expected this exact reaction. He was unable to love, unable to just say it back to someone who was significantly younger than him and was a stranger just six months ago. Joel would regret this moment for the rest of his life. He stared at you in disbelief, unsure of what to do. He watched as your lips pursed and your hands wrap around your stomach, trying to keep yourself warm. 
“I’m sorry.” he muttered, turning away from you. 
You watched as you zipped his coat up as another gust of wind threw snow around the open space and he was gone.
Quickly, your eyes darted for a hiding spot. The survival instinct came in and tried its best to shut out the hurt you had just caused yourself. An old heat radiator stood a few feet to your left, in the direction Joel was. A produce crate covered in snow was another foot away and you picked it up, placing it next to the radiator. You sat on the freezing ground, clutching the gun and praying for something to go right today. 
A terrible scream erupted in the town’s square. You recognized that scream anywhere. Ellie, the little girl you had been with practically since her birth was in trouble. Your heart pounded in your chest as you jumped from your hiding space and ran towards the screaming. When you arrived, you stopped a few feet behind them. Joel was holding Ellie just as he was holding you moments before, moments before you had just fucked everything up. A lump rose in your throat as you feared the worst. 
“Ellie!” you yelled loudly and clear, catching the little girl’s attention. She looked up at you and wailed, her face was covered in blood. Almost falling on your knees mid run to her, she left Joel’s arms and collapsed in to yours. 
“Oh, baby.” you murmured, brushing her hair our of her face. She held on to you and sobbed in to your chest. You offered soft words of assurance, unaware of what monstrosities Ellie had just survived. Slowly rocking her back and forth, your hand intertwined with hers as you tried to calm her down. Brief words through the sobs Ellie let out broke your heart. 
“Y/N-” Joel said with a raspy voice. You shot him a look of hurt as you rested your chin on Ellie’s head. You slowly shook your head in disappointment. “It’s okay, Ellie.” you whispered in her ear. “Your safe now.”
“We really should go,” Joel urged, anxiously looking around. You closed your eyes, ignoring him. Ellie’s wails had subsided, but her grip on your waist hadn’t let up. 
“Let’s go,” you whispered to her, using the sleeves of Joel’s coat to wipe some of the blood off of her face. Joel was right. You all were heavily exposed at the moment. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
--
It was now night. The horse was gone, and Joel was barely able to keep upright for long. You had found a cave while trying to hunt down a rabbit. The three of you were going to rest there for the night. 
Ellie hadn’t left your side. Her hand was in yours as you made your way up the cold mountainside. Slowly, the three of you trudged upward. 
The rabbit you had caught for dinner was average. Joel was hurt, but still useful. He made a fire and helped Ellie get comfortable. She was in dire need for a good night of sleep. Hell, you all were in dire need for a good night of sleep. No words had been spoken between you and Joel since the small town. 
Ellie’s head rested in your lap. You sat against the wall of the cave and watched Ellie as she slowly took in breaths. Joel was fixated on the flames, making sure they were still roaring strong. 
“You should get some sleep,” Joel said, breaking the tension. You shrugged. “I-I can take first watch,” he offered. “No.” you said back bitterly. 
“Y/N,” Joel sighed, adjusting his tone to yours. “Are you going to be bitter the rest of this trip?” he asked bluntly. Your head snapped to look up at him. Joel raised an eyebrow. 
“I just need some time, Joel.” 
“Well, you kinda said it at the worst time possible.” he muttered, using the ground to stand up and fetch another log of wood for the fire. “Well,” you seethed. “I thought you were dead. When I saw you…I had to.” 
You sighed and closed your eyes as you heard him toss the wood on the fire. 
Joel’s shoulders slumped as he slid down back against the wall. “Yeah, I know.” he said heavily. “It’s just hard for me to hear things like that.”
You nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have been more… considerate.” you apologized, searching for the right word. Joel was right; wrong time and wrong place. Stretching your legs out towards the fire, Ellie stirred in her sleep. You and Joel stared at the girl, waiting for her to calm. Her grasp on your hand tightened, but she seemed to fall back into her hazy state.
“I failed her,” Joel said, a tinge of sadness backed up his tone. “Joel, no.” you sighed. “I-I should have been there. I should have been more careful and…”
His face scrunched as he placed his hand on his forehead, shielding his eyes. Was he… no. Was he?
Slowly, you moved Ellie off your lap. She let out a few grunts of protest, but you placed your backpack under her head. You scuffled next to Joel. He seemed to jump at your touch. “Joel,” you whispered, grabbing his hand in yours. Tears welled in his eyes. “I failed her Y/N.” 
The definition of her was falling on a fine line between Ellie and Sarah. 
“No you didn’t. You saved us, Joel. You saved her.” 
The two of you stared at Ellie. She was sound asleep. Ellie was now clean, you had helped her clean up in a freezing stream. It almost felt like a proud parent moment in some odd, fucked up way. The two of you staring at your miracle kid. She had survived and endured so much for her age. It was almost odd to see her resting so peacefully. The knowledge that the two of you got her there safely was enough to keep the hope flowing.
Your other hand fell over the one you had holding on to his, and your head rested on his shoulder. 
“I love that kid so fucking much,” Joel blurted out, his free hand moving to wipe a tear out of his face. “I know.” you said, feeling the emotions in you begin to rise. “I love her too,” you whispered, your eyebrows falling soft. Joel tried to keep it in, but a sudden gasp for air made it evident that he was crying. 
Sitting with him was the best thing you could do. Your hand rubbed over his knuckles that had healed from the events of leaving the Boston QZ. Slowly, testing your limits, your arm wrapped around his shoulders. He moved his head in to the nape of your neck and sighed. He was hiding behind you from his feelings and the world. You were his metaphorical escape. 
Joel’s mind wandered to all the previous moments the two of you had shared. Awkward, brief stares at each other in the Boston QZ periodically before you two actually knew each other. When you bandaged him up after a bullet graze. Your hands were so soft and you worked so carefully, making sure the process was as painless as you could make it. Or when you shared your last meal with him. You ripped the disgusting piece of jerky up and insisted he ate it. The two of you were sitting in what used to be a park and was watching Ellie play on the fragile equipment when it happened. One of the few moments she actually got to live like a kid. 
“Y/N?” Joel whispered in your ear. Turning to look at him, his eyes were red and puffy. “I do love you, you know.” 
A thin lipped smile rose to your face. You nodded. “I’m not very good at these kinds of things… I’m sorry.” he sighed.
You rejected his apology and rested your head back on his shoulder. “I know. Me too,” you managed to say, with a slight chuckle at the end. Your hand wrapping over his slowly turned in to his hand intertwining with yours. “We’ll get through this. Together.” you assured him. Joel nodded, leaning in to kiss you softly on the forehead. You felt a rush of happiness fill you at this small gesture. 
Joel was a hard man to crack, you had known that since the first day you met him. His stubbornness was relentless. This meant the world to you. 
Now as the two of you lay side by side, you felt him wrap his arms around you. Joel was so warm, it was comforting. He pulled you close, not caring what Ellie would think when she awoke. You both closed their eyes, praying this remote cave was safe enough to not stay up and watch for any danger. And it was. 
Joel was healing physically, but the shattered man inside began repairs as the night moved on. He knew he could do anything, feel anything, and try to be even an inkling of the man he used to be with you at his side.
tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy
2K notes · View notes
kanene-yaaay · 2 months
Text
The Benefits of a Restful Sleep (and other things that a friend can help you with)
Kanene's notes: In my defense, Dogday is way too cute and kind. That was his mistake. Now I just HAD to make an entire story where he is alive and the Player is both the most stubborn bean ever and the biggest softie to set a foot in the factory. That is it. That is the entire story. Warnings: Mentioned death as a form of reset, angst and mention of injury and blood. It's discussed but not too deeply and isn't the main plot of the story. Raspberries, nibbles, lots of teasing, hurt/comfort and roothing fluff. Reader is adressed with they/them. Around 9.500 words. Heavily inspired by @fluffymary 's wonderful, incredible stories. Take a look at them too :D
[~*~]
You were exhausted.
That was a problem.
Sure, tiredness wasn’t really a new feeling in your life when you looked at the big scheme of things. Even before you went back to your old workplace, it used to cling on your bones, to fill your mind with memories and to pull your spirits down at any time of the day when a kid’s laughter or flowers would remind you of everything you tried so hard to leave behind.
(And look where you are now.)
The constant ‘fighting for your life’ thing also hasn't been helping a lot lately. Adrenaline and the will to keep on living were perfect for the battles but could only get you so far when the feeling of danger and fear scrutinized all of your steps, stalking in any and every corner, waiting for the right moment to strike. Days and hours became a total mess and the longer you spent on exploring and surviving, the more and more things that were once important started to fade to a background thought in your head.
Food was one of them. Water. Sleep. The debris and destruction brought a lot of memories and enemies but hardly a safezone where you could actually sit down, breathe and rest for a bit. It was fine, though. The solution was simple and quick. 
Dying.
Sounded harsh when you thought about it in that way, to be honest. 
Resetting. 
Or something like that.
Not during a fight, of course. After the first couple of times, it quickly became annoying and no fun at all to have to experience all the chase and… other things more than once. However, on other occasions, missteps into an abyss happen and sometimes a bad calculation using the grabpack could be fatal (and more frequent than you should admit.) 
You couldn’t deny its convenience. In a blink you would wake up, not hungry, thirsty or exhausted, a few meters behind your previous location and then you would be ready to go until the pain of hunger or the feeling of being in a brick of passing out appeared once again.
It was not the best, you knew, but it was a good enough solution. 
It was fine.
(It was fine.) 
Especially now, when you have someone else depending on you to survive. Saving Dogday had been tricky and much, much harder than the alternative. Keeping him alive after that, during the smiling critters chase and the aftermath, even more so. None of this didn’t really matter, though. It was worth it. 
The beginning had been tougher. With all the emotions, the changes, pain (and how to keep going after all of that), going back to Home Sweet Home and getting into more trouble trying to turn on all the generators. The fact that, not very longer after getting into the Daycare, you found a new, clean fabric and a set of tools to take care of Dogday’s injuries was the perfect help, even if the coincidence of that encounter had bordered on a miracle that made your skin prickle in discomfort as you had stared at the sewing kit localized (placed) just a few meters away from you two. There was no way that this could have been accidental. 
(Ever since you set a foot in this factory not a single encounter, voice, tape or battle seemed a coincidence and the fear of the image that this puzzle was creating haunted your every choice.)
Nevertheless, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Even though Dogday stayed unusually quiet for a really long time after his injuries were taken care of, he still insisted on using it despite both of your strong suspicions, not wanting to be a ‘burden’, anymore.
You disagreed strongly with that word, of course. Not only because his knowledge of the place and the little shortcuts or hidden spaces had been essential both to escape from the hungry toys and to make your path confusing enough to mislead any pursuers you had was essential to your survival, but also because… 
Damn. 
You just really missed this.
Chatting. Having someone truly by your side. No second intentions or guesses or working around to earn a couple of moments of dialogue. Just a companionship and a fighter if needed, someone bright who could, just with their presence and company, help to keep your focus and your objectives in mind. 
Dogday’s voice was raspy and rough but his words were light and kind. He would insist on calling you ‘angel’ and gesture excitedly around when he was talking, pulling your attention back when you began losing yourself in your thoughts. He would help solving the complicated puzzles spread through the factory and hold your hand tight to hide the tremble of his own paws when you both went through somewhere too dark. He would joke and hold and help and you wished you could put in words how no trouble in the world could make his presence here not worth it. 
That is why you couldn’t afford passing out right now. That is why you kept pulling one foot after the other and continued your path to the end of this hell.
Unfortunately, the very reason that kept you moving forward was the same one blocking you from actually managing to reset your body and get over that tiredness.
The fact that Dogday cared.
He was smart and quite smooth too. That was clear after all the times he would ‘accidentally’ get in front of you when you managed to step a bit too close from a deepless hole or how he would suddenly remember a shortcut that would have you to deviate from the giant abyss you had been eyeing for a few moments ago or when he distracted you as he followed another direction, a light pull on your wrist and a inviting conversation on the tip of his tongue, the pit getting farther and farther away.
It was a bit endearing, you couldn’t lie.
However, when a badly placed hand of your grabpack successfully made you slip from a fatal high and you only had time to listen to a surprised yelp (or more like a ‘yap’?) before a giant orange arm held you close to a fluffy chest you were actually torn between hitting something in frustration and melting in the warmth.
Dogday smiled, looking down. 
“Ops, you almost fell in there, angel.” His eyebrow was crooked and his expression filled with tension and confusion. Yep. He definitely realized what was going on. That kind of sucks.
He started heading the other direction, taking a different path to where you were going. “You‘re really tired, aren’t you? Saving everyone must cost a lot of energy.” His eyes softened. You struggled to keep yours open, body inevitably relaxing with his voice and kind touch. “And, well, I don’t think you had a lot of opportunities to rest since you got here too, right? Ehehe. That is… a bit worrisome. Humans need plenty of sleep and we have been walking for a long time already!”
You have survived longer without it. It was fine. There were more generators that had to be turned on before anything else. Those were your priorities.
Dogday acknowledged the end of your sentence before shaking his head vehemently, his ears flopping around in an endearing way. 
“The generators have been turned off for a long time now, a few more hours won’t hurt. You are our priority, angel.” Dogday tried to not let his tail wag in adorableness when he pulled you closer to his chest and you let your head and eyelids fall with a really tiny, quiet sound for a moment too long before opening them and watching him in a stubborn manner. “And I think I know somewhere where we can hide for long enough before continuing.” 
He watched as you deviated your gaze, thoughtful. Almost there.
“Besides, my kind angel” he let his posture go, just a little. The exhaustion from… everything showing from the light of his eyes to the darkness of his mouth. Trusting had been what got him stuck but also what freed him. He could offer this human a bit more of it. “I-I really think I need time to recover. Sometimes it just… hurts.”
He looked down and you didn’t need to follow his gaze to get what he was saying.
Oh.
Oh.
That was what settled it. You nodded. But he had to put you on the ground. 
You kept your expression firm and ignored his playful chuckle and the way he only pulled you closer with your words, because if he kept holding you, there was no way you would not fall asleep instantly and you both couldn’t afford that until he got to that safe place.
With a huff and a beginning of a pout he acquiesced and put you on the cracked floor, getting your point. He had to hide his snickers with his paw when you wobbled on the same spot for a second before eventually gathering your strength back, feeling a million times more tired. 
Urg. Relaxing was a mistake.
“Don’t worry, it’s not too far from here. We will get there in no time!” 
(...)
Took longer than he expected for you to finally lay down, but it was worth it. The place was one of the old dorms so there were a lot of pillows and mattresses thrown around, a few somewhat still holding a good condition for use. With the help of some furniture and moving around, you managed to barricade the door and build a sort of nest hidden in a farther corner so that it would be really difficult to notice through any window. 
The human seemed ready to pass out at any moment, yawning and giving the door a last look, watching every creek and tear on the walls for anything that could be dangerous, even after all their previous care to make this place as safe as possible. Silly dear.
Dogday has always prided himself in being perceptive. Both because of the kids he once needed to watch and take care of and also because it’s important to notice and understand the details around your teammates so he would know when to help them.
(Old habits die hard, as it seems.)
And, yeah, maybe it had something to do with how long he spent without seeing a human or how he missed having someone (anyone-) who cared so much around. But he couldn’t really help to watch, prod and pick every little detail and gesture of yours around as if he was collecting flowers in a garden. Humans were so… expressive, and this one wasn’t different at all. 
Angel was fierce and determined, going silently and non stop through the facility and all their objectives with a focused mind and precise movements. Their senses and general environmental awareness were good, too, catching hints and dangers just a second or two after Dogday himself caught them, which, considering their small ears and eyes, was an incredible feat. 
Still, like a true angel, strength and kindness walked side by side with them. Dogday didn’t say that only because that person was the literal reason he was alive today, but simply because it was clear as water how much of a true softie you were inside. It was in the way they fired only around the small smile critters, avoiding to actually burn and kill them (even though he didn’t really know how he should feel about it), on how they carried and treated his wounds and how all their features - tensed, anxious and angry - softened everytime they looked at him. 
It was on the way that they walked slower to accompany him, amusing his rambles with pokes of fun and interesting additions and in how each touch or word was filled with tenderness and respect. He didn’t feel like a toy with them like some old employers had made him feel before or a failure as… others made him believe.
So, his companionship was extremely captivating and maybe that was why it hadn’t been really hard to notice how the little tiny hints and actions came together to form a quite worrisome image of how disregarding about their own safety they were. Jumping into fights, crawling into dangerous, small spaces without thinking twice (he couldn’t get them there, if he needed he couldn’t get them there-), following strangers’ orders and running over cliffs as if their life wasn’t the thing that mattered the most and Dogday would always be there to catch them when they fell.
(What did they use to do when he wasn’t?)
Even now, he huffed as the human slowly took off the grabpack while still not even lowering themselves on the mattress or trying to get comfortable even though they seemed ready to slip into unconsciousness at any time now. Alert to the very last second.
It felt a bit nostalgic, if he was being honest. At least helping someone to go to sleep was a kind of problem that he knew how to solve. 
With no further ado, he let himself fall on the soft pile with a ‘oof’, slowly rolling around the cleanest pillows they found and hugging the mattress as a loud, relaxed sighing fled from his mouth. His entire body seemed to untense with the unexpected comfortable feeling. How long had it been since he could just enjoy being surrounded by softness and safety like this?
His tail began contently thumping on the pile, another sigh leaving his mouth and making him forget for a moment his objective as he rolled more and more on the spot, the pure feeling of bliss taking over his senses until the sound of amused chuckles brought him back to reality.
He opened his eyes only to find an incredibly fond gaze looking right back at him. The absurd weight that haunted his friend’s shoulders seemed to have disappeared for a moment and, if he really concentrated enough on those kind eyes, it was like the rest of the world became unfocused. That is right! Dogday shook his head, as if cleaning it from his distracting thoughts. He had a mission to accomplish! Get the human to rest! No more fooling around!
“Hmmmm, It’s so, so, sooo comfy here!” Dogday controlled his voice so his playful tune wouldn’t show too much and give away his plan. He got a pillow and shoved his face on it just to highlight his words. “Like a kingdom made of clouds, where all the citizens get to lay down and rest all day, everyday and their favorite hobby is to cuddle and snuggle. Sounds like a nice place, don’t you think?” 
You agreed, snorting when two expectanting lights turned around and Dogday patted the spot right beside him, only smiling bigger when you pretended to roll your eyes and finally, finally, laid down, barely touching the pile before your body crumbled the rest of the way.
It was… really soft. Even more than you expected from such old furniture but that could be the exhaustion talking. A relieved groan filled the place and before you could process that it came from your lips two arms came and carefully pulled you to a bunch of even softer fluff, which automatically made you snuggle closer, hugging the pillow (friend?) and relaxing, body aching with how much tension flew away from it so quickly.
A sweet voice said something in the background, but all of your senses melted together with your muscles when a hand began rubbing your back, drawing light circles on your spine and following it to your neck, briefly massaging it before going back to the back rubs.
That nice voice kept talking and you could briefly distinguish the words ‘deserve’, ‘rest’ and ‘good’ before the hand got a bit too close to your side and you giggled. The hand stilled but it was okay, it just tickled, that is all. No need to stop. 
This was really nice, you kind of missed it. 
You snuggled more.
All of it. It’s been a while.
As the darkness of the unconsciousness started taking you away, an amused, fond ‘aww’ was the last thing you heard.
(...)
You woke up with a scare.
Nothing necessarily happened, but your body immediately tensed, in alert. Blurry eyes traveled with speed around the room in search for any kind of movement, the silence helping to amplify the sound of any enemy that could be closer. 
One second, two seconds…all you could pick up was the paused, calm snoring of Dogday still being deeply asleep.
Right. Safe. You were both safe.
You let go of a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, blinking rapidly to scare the sleep out of your sight as you looked up, mind finally getting time to grasp the memories from last… (night? hours? day? irrelevant). The quick beating of your heart started to slow down to a normal pace and you laid down again on the mattress, now wide awake.
Dogday was still sleeping. That was good. He deserved all the peaceful rest he could get after everything that happened.
And, to be honest, it was quite amusing to watch him sleep. Each time he snored his big ears flopped just the slightest bit around and from time to time those little muffled barks would appear on the back of his throat and his tail would wag a bit, not so different from a real dog.
(He truly was a marvel of science.)
At one time you could almost swear he said a name, but it was so low that you couldn’t quite catch it.
Beyond all of that, you couldn’t deny how right Dogday had been, resting really did wonders to your body and mood. You could feel your mind clearer and your muscles less stiff, even if still quite sore. Also, it was made in a rush, that is true, but the soft pillow pile really was comforting enough that it didn’t make it any easier to get up and go on about your day.
Still, as always, there was work to do. It really wouldn’t hurt to get up in the vents and walk around a bit to see if there was any murder toy wandering close so you could attract them away before they could interrupt Dog’s sleep. 
It wasn’t anything really that urgent, however,… It felt weird not doing anything in this place, to deliberately choose to stay instead of to move. Letting your guard down last night had been literally the only thing you could do with how exhausted you were and having a trustful friend close by your side, but now? When you were more rested and nowhere close to the exit? The jittery feeling was already catching up to you. 
You tried to get up, only to be stopped by an arm closing on your midriff, a nose being pressed on the top of of head and nuzzling it with care before a raspy voice - you really needed to find some kind of oil or toolbox to help with his voicebox, sometimes it felt like he was always with a sore throat - glitched for a half second before coming to life in a quiet, slurred “Angel?”
Good morning, sleepy beauty.
Dogday huffed in amusement. Silence washed over you both once again.
A while passed and no more words were exchanged. Uh, probably went back to sleep already. You tried to carefully extract yourself from his hold. 
“Mm? What happened?” Dogday yawned, sounding a bit more awake this time. “Do we have to go?” He propped himself in one elbow, using his enormous height to peak over the hiding place and watch the door and windows, ears perking up in a search of any strange sound. “I’m not listening to any danger. This is a good spot.”
You agreed, feeling a tad bad that you woke up your companionship unnecessarily with your unrelenting thoughts. Nothing really happened, you assured, he could go back to sleep if he wanted. You could stay with the guarding shift.
Rubbing his eyes and yawning more, the sentient toy then changed his focus to you, noticing the slight drop in your tune, mind becoming clearer as he added to that detail the stiffness that went back in your shoulders. His brain tried to connect the dots.
“Did you have a nightmare, sunshine?”
No, not really. 
“What happened?”
It’s all just… too much thoughts. You wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep like this, not without a distraction. It would be the best if you got something to do, so he could go back to his nap. It was fine, you would stay awake in guard.
“I see.”
He laid back down, however, instead of letting you go and immediately go back to sleep, as you expected, he began massaging your shoulders, mouth turning into a pout when that didn’t make you melt completely in blissful slumber like last night, but at least got some of the tension out. 
Even if it felt like the human continued to hold onto every last drop of stress for some reason, refusing to close their eyes or fully relax. Knowing their current situation, Dogday could understand. But still, his friend should be able to enjoy this little chance of a rest that they’ve got. They were both so tired and finally had a good place to spend some good old lazy time without being worried about running for their lives or seeing nightmares at each blink of eyelids. It was not the best spot that the factory could once offer, of course, yet nowadays it was like a piece of heaven.
He wished he could help his angel to enjoy it. Yesterday they seemed so happy. But unless he could think in a good distraction…
A sudden thought then popped in his head, a memory from what happened the previous night. An idea.
Hm.
“Sunshine, do you like games?”
Games? Like… hide and seek or catch? 
Dogday nodded, looking eager. 
Yeah, you did. Even so, you don’t think that making up some ruckus will be good to keep up their hidden spot, well, hidden.
“No, no! This one doesn’t involve running or anything that could give up our location. Actually, you won’t even need to move from where you are to play it.”
Really? Well, it was worth a shot, then. 
“Alright. Do you remember what happened when we found those old rags in one of the corridors a few days ago?”
Yes, you did.
You watched as Dogday chuckled, like he knew something you didn’t and, with a crooked eyebrow, you stared at him, trying to remember the mentioned moment better. 
Nowadays his fur was no longer the bright orange that it once was like the old cardboards and tv episodes showed, but at least it got a resemblance of a cleaned state after using some good-enough rags you found on the way to one of the generators. You both did the best to take out the debris, dust and blood from him. It took longer than it should because the taller toy kept squirming and wiggling around in an adorable inescapable fit of giggles, not really being a big help as, in between his laughter, he kept claiming that it really, really tickled. 
As a good friend, of course, you just grabbed the rag he let fall after a bit of lil cleaning on his poor ticklish tummy and racked both hands up and down his sides, scribbling away while he hid his smile behind hands, muffling his loud crackles. The cleaning didn’t stop there and hunted each tiny spot and slight hint of dust off him with plenty of scratches, prodding and drumming everywhere your hands could reach, catching all the titters, snickers and snorts that danced in the rhythm of your fingers. Your own giggles did not take much longer to follow them. 
Dogday’s paw continued to run in a light touch on your back and suddenly a bolt of electricity jolted you up when your mind connected the memory of his playful demisse to what he just said.
Your eyes widened and his expression opened into a smirk, sensing the very same moment you got to the conclusion that you were about to get absolutely and utterly destroyed with tickles.
You tried pushing him away, one hand twisting behind to catch his wrist as the other hand fought to snatch his free one, which kept flying away from yours in a game of mouse and cat. 
“Wait, angel!” He couldn’t help but laugh, especially as your movements got more and more uncoordinated the longer they kept this little game, even before he truly attempted to do anything. A wobbly smile was already taking over your face, only growing bigger when every swipe he did in your direction - only to be deflected by your hands - made your entire skin tingle and prickle in anticipation. Each adorable reaction only assisting in making Dogday more determined that he choose the right distraction. “Don’t you want to know about the game? I bet that you will love it! I used to play and win all the time so I can teach you every special trick of mine.”
No, no, no, no! You knew exactly what he was doing! There was no such thing as a game!
“Gasp!” You were sure that Dogday would be dramatically putting a hand on his chest if it wasn’t for the rough housing, but sudden noise was successful to break your concentration. He used his trapped hand to sneak a quick jab on your side, ripping out a delightful screech before you slammed your back again on the mattress, both hands now in front of you, no longer moving, yet still ready to defend and attack. “I would never lie to you, my beautiful, beautiful beacon of light, the only and one sunshine, my angel.”
He was not going to succeed in distracting you again with those sugary sweet nicknames! You knew exactly what he was doing and you wouldn’t let him get you.
“No, no, you got me wrong, angel.” Dogday booped your nose, seeming like he couldn’t control himself with excitement and a smug kind of joy that only grew the longer you both stared at each other, waiting for the moment to strike. His tail wagged and he pretended to lounge at your stomach, stopping inches before touching it and drinking the way that a squeal escaped from your mouth, body stuck into a position between laying down and curling on itself, giggles quickly filling the room. Actually, you could feel yourself getting giddier at each second, completely aware that there was no way for you to get out of this and no other option besides wait for the next attack.
The way that this thought only made butterflies go crazy on your belly should be illegal.
Dogday continued as if nothing happened. “This isn’t the game. The game only starts when I start to tickle you, silly! And it is called ‘Try To Not Laugh’.” He managed to waltz through your defenses, his index finger and thumb catching your side in a grip way too light to even be considered a pinch. It made you try to squirm with a snort to the other direction, as if he just had unleashed a ruthless attack of squeezes on the spot. 
His grin glimmered and he let you go, chuckling. You could feel the phantom touch still. 
(Why did his paws have to be so fuzzy!?) 
“It means that you can’t giggle, squeal, snicker, chuckle, snort, chortle, shriek or laugh! No matter how much it tickles, itches or ‘feels funny’.” Dogday counted each reaction pulling up a finger and you tried to not let your face melt as he just kept talking, looking more and more delighted with how each word seemed to make you twitch on the spot, his paws clawing in your direction when he was done. 
Before you could think, he went for your neck, fingertips barely, just the slightest bit, grazing the skin before you catched his wrists and pushed them away, scrunching your neck as tiny tickly sparks spread like fire across your nerves. A sound akin to a keysmash left your lips and Dogday looked like you had just given him the best news of his entire existence.
He tilted his head and watched his own captured paws for a piece of moment before shrugging. He continued on with his explanation.
“In turn I will try my true best to make you laugh. And that can mean anything! I can fill your entire cute neck with aaaaall the raspberries that it could ever want, wiggle my claws on your ticklish armpits, play your ribs like a very lovely piano, squeeze your sides non stop until you’re dancing around like a wiggly worm, maybe even give your tummy a few scratches and scribbles, or, or even better! I can play ‘This little piggy’ with your toes over and over again until your sweet laughter fills this entire room like the sweetest melody. And then we can do it all over but with you giggling and snickering ringing free the entire time! Doesn’t it sound like a fun idea, my angel?”
Oh, you were going to die. Whether he decided to tickle you right away or keep the teases for who knows how long, you don’t think that your face would survive being under so much heat for so long.
Besides, this is not fair at all! He will win it anyway, you couldn’t hold on your laughter forever while he t-, while he attacks you.
“Aww, but, sunshine, tickling is hardly an attack!” His face got closer and suddenly you realized that he did not need any free hand to accomplish his first promise of tickles. 
With wide eyes you tried to roll away, but to do so, you would have to let his paws go, and you knew very well that the moment this happened, it would be a game over for you. For the way that Dogday grinned in your direction, he reached the same conclusion as well. “Also, I can’t even touch you, right now! I think you can win this.” Dogday wiggled his paws in your hold, as if proving his point. 
With (an eager) trepidation, you watched as his face continued to get closer, prying a couple of titters when his floppy, fuzzy ears brushed your own ears. He chuckled at your reaction, a mix of fondness and playful, fake frustration painting his words. “Sunshine, you’re already giggling? I will have to take my last words back, then, I don’t think this game will last too long, anymore.” 
Oh ho ho, he should just wait, because when you get him back you then he was going to see who was-
Dogday shoved his face on the crook of your neck and immediately began nuzzling the spot without a worry in the world, successfully cutting your threat short.
Wait! Wait!
“Don’t mind me, angel, please continue.” He huffed and puffed on the spot, shivers running in a hilarious cacophony across your every sense, almost ripping a squeal from your lips. Actually, just like his words hitting the skin, you could feel the way that snickers began pooling in your throat, waiting for any tiny chance to escape. You clamped your mouth shut, a muffled snort taking over. You were going to at least try to hold them in and try your chances at winning this childish game, for your own pride, if nothing else. 
He didn’t have his paws to tickle, right? I mean, how bad could it really be?
Dogday hummed, each word vibrating on the skin in an almost unbearable manner, making you want to jump away and at the same time let yourself get lost in the sensations. “What were you saying, angel? Please, don’t stop because of me! You know I always love to hear what you have to say.”
You shook your head, partially in an attempt to somehow escape from the tickling and partially to dissipate the energy that was building up on your system. Anything to not focus on the snickers bouncing freely in your chest.
“No? Not a word? Aw.” You could feel the fake pout the sentient toy did right before letting his features go back to that dangerous, mischievous grin. “I have a question for you, then! Do you know what is the tickle puppy favorite’s fruit?”
You knew a trap when you saw one, so you kicked your legs, trying and failing to let out any protest because you were sure that if you stopped pressing your lips in a tight line for even half of a second, there would be no stopping from the waterfall of laughter.
“Raspberries!”
A shriek almost made you lose when he unleashed the first raspberry, more and more of them being quick to follow right after. On the base of your neck, your collarbone, under your chin and in every inch on the unprotected spot. There was nowhere safe from the awfully buzzing that made every other feeling disappear, seeing to tickle every nerve and making tingles to run crazy in absolutely everywhere. He even grazed the back of your ears with a couple of raspberries, cooing when you tried to shrink and hide the spot by pressing them on your shoulder, only succeeding to leave the other side of your neck completely free for more nuzzles and tickles, an opportunity that Dogday was fast to take, taking turns in bashing every side of your neck in a tickly attention. 
Another quiet, muffled squeak painted the air.
Dogday lifted his head again, entire demeanor completely melting for a piece of time when he saw you (oh my stars, look at this amazing smile!) before that joyful light was back in his eyes. Once more, he tried wiggling his paws out of your hold, but your grip continued to be as firm as ever, your wobbly smile shining in a challenge.
Oh, you’re just so fun!
“Gasp! It seems like I am stuck! Oh no, angel, what will I do now?” His gaze then traveled to your stomach, and all the hints that softness had ever been present in his features instantly evaporated as his face became something more playful, even a tad devilish, with a hint of hunger. 
“My, my,” you didn’t exactly know why, but his voicebox glitched, jumping between a light taunting tune and his usual lower one. “Is that a delicious tummy that I see? Poor thing, it must be so cold to be shaking like this. Well, and what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t offer any help, huh?”
Your friend was quite tall and kind of clumsy when he walked around, too. Now, how that clumsy toy was able to, in a span of less than a blink, take a gigantic breath and immediately attack your stomach with it was a true mystery that you didn’t had a lot of time to think about when your entire body took a screenshot for a long, long second, ticklish sensations exploding in a frenzy, before your entire torso instinctively beginning to trash, loud peals of laughter jumping freely on the tip of your tongue, begging to be free. They cheered in excitement and only grew stronger when other smaller raspberries took their turn to explore every spot, every sensitive creek or place of your stomach, breaking more and more of your barriers, little by little. It took every single ounce of strength to not lose the game right here and there.
Dogday didn’t even pretend to be holding back, anymore. Right as you survived another tiny raspberry that got way too close to your side to be an accident, a nibble appeared, catching you so out of guard that it made your arch your back, legs kicking with adrenaline. But the tickly, light nibbles weren’t diverted, intertwining with tiny raspberries in a mischievous dance that increased your internal laughing into a tenfold.
That was when one of them hit the spot closer to your bellybutton and you couldn’t take it anymore. Your hands let go of his wrists to push his stupid smiling - so proud and so bright - face away, body squirming and eyes crinkling on the corners with mirth.
“I am free!” He laughed, pretending to not hear the tiny low titters flying from your mouth as you regained your strength, taking the breather as what it was. His ears twitched with every cute little giggle and he kind of wanted to immediately go back to bash every sweet, soft spot in tickles you until that beautiful laughter was ringing loud and free across the entire room and that soft, relaxed state you were in became so much common that he wouldn’t see you stressed ever again.
But he was going to wait for you to rest a tadbit first, that was the main objective of their game, afterall.
Feeling calmer, you looked at your friend, who jolted in the same place, seeing to get out of a trance. He recovered quickly and lifted his paws, easily slipping into the tickle monster persona as he slowly clawed in your direction.
“Now that my hands are free, I wonder where I should attack next…” He looked thoughtful, slowly bringing his paws closer and closer to your torso, wiggly fingers softly scrapping the ticklish skin, but not really drumming on it, not yet. “Maybe I should try your armpits first? Aw, but you were so jumpy when I squeezed your side that one time! And you seemed really excited when I mentioned tickling your ribs… Ah! So many options, so many options… We will have to try every single one of them, of course. What do you think, my giggly angel? Which one do I tickle first?”   
None! Absolutely none of them!
“None?” He tilted his head, knowing very well how cute he looked like when he did that. “But then … Oh! I see!” Dogday snapped his fingers and you were pretty sure that if this was a cartoon a lamp would appear shining right above that absolute, silly, mean, goofball. “You want me to tickle your legs!” 
What!
At your wide stare and sputtering pretenses of protests his smirk turned sharp, which didn’t quite help the anticipatory bolts of electricity that suddenly left you feeling even more ticklish than usual, trying to curl and hide your legs but feeling him dig more on your torso every time you did so. He continued. “That is why you didn’t stop kicking and squirming the entire time I was tickling your neck and tummy, right? Aww, sunshine, if you wanted my attention so much, you could’ve just asked!”
That was literally not the reason at all! Dogday!!
He hummed in an answer, turning around and easily pinning your legs by holding your ankles down, his touch so gentle that you were pretty sure that if you really wanted and struggled you could escape from it.
(And if that didn’t make everything even more endearing, you honestly didn’t know what would.)
Without wasting any more time, Dogday started squeezing the sensitive spot right above your kneecap, skillfully jumping from one leg to another unexpectedly, digging on the skin and following your leg around with no problem as a new round of kicks started once again, keeping up with the tickling. The ticklish sensations made your head spin, tingles spreading across your muscles and teasing all the nearest tickle spots, leaving them prickling in anticipation and a funny kind of energy that made every nerve of your knees crazy as more and more squeezes and pinches continued unmercifully assaulting the spot non stop. 
A sudden move and you yelped when your legs were lifted, his curious hand worming its way under your knee to lightly scratch the sensitive skin there. The touch was so incredibly fuzzy, so adoringly soft that the sudden change from the rough to light technique almost ripped a series of snickers from your throat without permission, the hilarity and urge to laugh taking over your every thought. 
Dogday continued scribbling and drawing shapes, leaving a couple of pokes here and there just so he could listen to those delightful muffled snorts.
(He would really love to listen to them more clearly, though.) 
“You really love this, don’t you, angel?” 
You barely sputtered out an answer before being obligated to clamp your mouth shut, uncontrollable laughter making your shoulders bounce as he took the chance to crawl his fingers upwards to your thigh, skittering them there for a couple of seconds before spidering them right back to under your knees, repeating the cycle for a couple of times before mirroring them on the other leg. 
“When I tickle you.” He scratched under your knee. 
“When I tease you.” He squeezed your calf.
“When I fluster you.” He swiped at the space right under your toes.
“It’s really adorable!” His paw stopped right on your sole and he pressed it, firmly enough that it didn’t tickle, still, for some reason you couldn’t stop your smile from becoming even more wobblier, the giddiness growing stronger and spreading in your every cell just like the heat that seemed to take over your face. 
“Especially because I can’t wait to hear aaaaall those cute giggles and beautiful laughter that you have trapped right there.” Suddenly, he raked his fingers up, from your heel to under the toes. A squeal filled the air. Dogday’s eyes shone, like an arrow findings the target. His fingertips curled, kneading on the skin. “That is why I have to apologize, angel, because I lied to you. That is a game that I just have to win.”
He then attacked.
It was less than a half of a piece of time, but suddenly your soles were being overcomed with scribbles, scratches and wiggling everywhere they could reach. There were digging fingers under your toes and a spidering that followed them to the pads, tweaking and scritching them all while curious pokes payed attention to the entire path of your arches, even if shouldn’t be possible for him to be tickling both places at the same time. Nevertheless, Dogday’s paw was so big that he was able to torment both of your feet at once while still holding them through all the resulting kicks those created.
And the teasing… Of course there was also the teasing.
“There we go! Oh my, oh my, look at you! You just can’t help being so adorable, now, can you? Awww, angel, you always get this… sweet expression when you are happy, so I like to call it your happy face! It’s delightful. The corner of your eyes gets all crinkly and your face gets all soft and your smile… your smile is the best part, it’s so bright! No matter the size or the time, it really feels like we have our own special rays of sun down here.”
He found a rather sensitive spot right above your heel and immediately concentrated on it with all his might, drumming and prodding there as if the salvation of this entire factory depended on making you laugh.
“That is why it was so easy to see how much you love tickles, sunshine. First when you were tickling me a few days ago and now. Since we started that game… you didn’t even ask me to stop and all while you simply never ceased looking so adorably full of joy like this! I could really spend the entire day just here, you know? Tickling you silly over and over again.”
That did it. The barrier broke. Loud peals of laughter were fished from your lips. Every sound and reaction filled the air in a frantic, unrestrained melody of mirth. 
Now, with them flying freely in the room, there were uncontrollable, hysterical giggles when Dogday decided to knead your calves up and down, those only being taken down by an unstoppable crackling, painted with one or two snorts, as his paws wiggled away to squeeze right above your kneecaps, taking his sweet, sweet time to give the ticklish skin under it a few swipes before moving away.
Finally, he let your ankles go, both paws resting on your sides, unbothered by all the squirming and protests that this simple act created, drinking in every reaction with a so fond, so tender gaze that it bordered on dotingly as you got another break.
You tried to take big gulps of air, but everytime your gazes found each other, titters grew anew, distracting you and leaving you in a constant state of a silly, giggly kind of joy.
M-Maybe he should reconsider! You laughed already, he won the game! That should be the end of this, right!
Dogday chuckled, fingers tuttering in their spot, curling and uncurling slowly, content to feel the trembling on the skin under them. 
“The end? But we just started! And you still got so much beautiful laughter trapped right here to show.” With his index finger, he highlighted his word by tapping on your belly, right in your bellybutton, ears perking at the screech this brought. “So many cute snorts and melodious shrieks that I would love to meet. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help to let them out, huh?”
A flow of words, more unintelligible than anything, fell off your lips. A mix of pleas,  threats, high pitched giggles and some indistinguishable sounds that could only be considered a true keysmash rather than a sentence. Dogday hummed in agreement and nodded his head as if it was all a well constructed and understandable sentence.
“I knew you would eventually see my point, angel. You’re such a delight, you know, that?”
He smiled, so kindly and caring, and then he digged.
His paws, big enough to cover your entire midriff drummed non stop, squeezing the lower part of your stomach while scratching everywhere they could reach. He stayed there for a while before his wiggling fingers crawled up, scribbling and pinching your sides unmercifully. They looked for any weak spot, any lovely place that would make you snort and squirm away and latched there with pinches and kneading until your back arched, only then moving back to tickle your stomach until you went back to try to curl yourself in a ball, starting the cycle over and over again. 
You felt almost high with laughter, the thought that it tickled, it tickled so so much and more than anything ever taking over your brain in sync with the loud, high pitched squeals and belly laughter (ha- Dogday would love that pun if you could say it to him) that chased after each other. After so much teasing, every tickle seemed to be accompanied by the brush of thousand of tiny phantom feathers that still tormented your stomach even when he moved away to your ribs, carefully pressing down on the bones and quickly scribbling with so much skill that it should be illegal the actual, loud crackle such a simple action created.
Your hands flied to hold his wrists, caught between pushing them away and pulling them close and, at seeing that, the sentient toy couldn’t help but feel himself melt and snicker fondly, barely controlling the urge to shove his face back on your neck and nuzzle and nibble the daylights out of it in a pure attack of cuteness. His tail was wagging so much that it dislodged a few pillows from where they were.
“Such a good friend. Such a cute, nice friend for me. For us.” The praises fell from his mouth naturally, your companionship too focused on keeping those happy reactions to really think too much about them. “You do so much to all of us, to me, and keep going above and beyond just to accomplish what you set your mind in. You’re brave and one of the strongest humans I’ve ever known. And there is so much kindness in you that I could talk the entire day about it! You saved me, you cared and tried and sometimes down here it feels like a nightmare but you… you make everything so much better, like a true angel. That is why I love this nickname so much. It really fits you.” 
You tried to answer, to say how much especial, strong and essential Dogday was for you as well, but every time a single coherent word slipped from your lips he immediately reinforced his attack, fully aware that if you said anything sweet he would inevitably let his guard down and you would be able to turn the tables, and he really needed to say all of that to you before that. 
His tickles were now focusing on keeping up the flow of starry laughter, watching them grow up to chortles and tune down into snickers as he scribbled in between each bone, keeping track of every special spot that pried a shriek from your lungs only to randomly attack it with prodding and poking, slowly fishing all kinds of joyful sounds that you could make.
He then buried his paws in your armpits, swirling the fingertips there for a few moments before digging energetically, fingers dancing and prodding every inch they could reach, which immediately made your arms come down with a loud chortle, head shaking and legs kicking at the sensation.
How was he so good at this?
Dogday gasped dramatically (not again-) and lightly pulled his paws in faux alarm, not really stopping his attack. “Oh no! Once more, you have trapped me!” Such a goofball. Such a silly, mean goofball and you could not wait to put your wiggly hands on and see how flustered you could make him be. “Dang, I really didn’t want to resort to this but I guess that I have no other option but to keep tickling and tickling and tickling on your poor ticklish pits forever and ever until the end of our days.” He then winked when he found your shining eyes. “But you would actually love that, wouldn’t you, my giggly sunshine?”
That was it. You were going to die. Right here and there. The playful tickles, the unrelenting teasing, the fond stares and gentle words… you could actually feel your entire body about to melt.
With a strength you didn’t even realize you had, you pulled your arms up to hide your flaming face, a pitched ‘eee’ sound mixing with the hysterical, absolutely uncontrollable laughter, your body rolling to the side and curling, shoulders bouncing with the force of each of your giggles.
Dogday let go of you, giggling together with your reactions, resting his hands on the ground and just observing, amusement and care clear as water in every trace of his features.
After a while, you felt a paw lay on your back, retracting for a bit when just that made you wiggle away, a new round of chuckles spilling, before it came back to rub your shoulders, touch kind and too firm to tickle. “Okay, okay, sunshine. I’m done. You can calm down for now.”
Laying down on the floor giggling yourself silly didn’t feel so embarrassing when Dogday’s own quiet snorts and snickers were quick to accompany you, especially since the rubbing really felt relaxing, making you melt on the touch bit by bit. 
After a few minutes, when a comfortable silence had fallen on you both, you rolled on your back, finally being able to stare at your companionship without feeling like you would explode. Dogday smiled bigger at your direction. He lifted a paw to gently wipe a tear from your cheek, not thinking too much about it.
“That was so fun! I didn’t know you were so ticklish, angel. You are almost as bad as m-” He stopped right in his tracks when a gasp and a new string of titters fell like a waterfall from your mouth and you pushed his paw away, fastly rubbing your cheek so the feeling of fuzzy tickles would go away. It was like the softest makeup brush had just touched your skin, and you had no idea that just this could tickle so much.
Dohohogday! You sahaid you werehe done! 
But your companionship didn’t answer. Astonished, he stared at his paw before looking at you again, gaze jumping from one to the other like he was watching a tennis match.
Suddenly his entire face brightened like the sun and he looked at you as if you had just said the funniest, most brilliant pun he had ever heard in his entire life.
“Aaaangel!” Every letter was bathed in pure, disbelieved delight.
No! You knew very well what that tune meant! No way! Nononono! Don’t you dare!
“Are your cheeks…”
Dohohogday! Don’t you come closer!
“Ticklish?”
Before you could push yourself from the mattress and jump away, there were two thumbs softly scratching on your cheeks, scribbling so lightly that it immediately made a giant smile take over your expression. Titters started to fill the air once more.
“Oh my… angel! This is adorable!” Dogday looked like he was about to bounce around the room with how much excited he was, his voice getting higher and glitching in excitement. “I can’t believe how fun and cute… You just… Ah, sunshine, I can’t help but!”
And before you could even blink, he shoved his smiley, stupidly fuzzy face right on your neck again, nuzzling there without a single worry in the world. His fingers kept  tickling your cheeks, sometimes even slipping to tease the back of your ears with a few scratches as he giggled in joy since he could literally feel the rumbling of your snickers. They twirled and spun in the air for much minutes more until his tickly attack from cuteness overload was finally finished and you both just kept layed down on the comfy pile, cuddling in between content sighs.
Dogday listened to your calm breath, saw how relaxed your entire body was and, according to the few sneaky peaks he had, saw that happy, full of mirth, smile was still in your face, leaving him melting in contentment, entire body relaxing as well. 
Perfect. His plan had worked.
Not that it was that big of a deal, but it had been such a long time since he had the opportunity to…
He was just glad that it worked. That he still got it in him. 
(Being playful. Happy. Helping the others. Being there when they needed him. Matter when it was necessary. Being silly and fun)
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t sense the hand coming until it laid on his head, playing with the fur there and scratching on that place right behind his left ear that never failed to make him embarrassingly become a mush of pleased hums and wagging tail. A low, sleepy voice crossed the air.
You said you would take him out of here. It’s a promise, Dogday.
How his angel knew exactly what to say was a mystery to him. And, it didn’t quite hurt, but his entire being ached at those words. His smile was sad and he was glad that the human couldn’t see as he blinked quickly, eyes suddenly moisty. “Alright.”
There would still be some revenge when you woke up, though. Be ready.
And that reminded him so much of others playful, sleepy conversations he had before everything happened that it ripped a surprised laugh from him. He tried to look up to see the very much likely mischievous glint in his friend’s eyes, but a few more purposeful scratches turned him right back to a content puddle. He nuzzled the human a bit more. “Sleep well, angel.”
You too, Dogday.
(And sleep well they did. Lost in a peaceful rest as the entire world outside left them be.)
[~*~]
Random fun facts!
-There is a parallel I made by mistake between CatNap and DogDay and the whole 'trusting and following the being that saved your life'. It's not too deep and Dogday isn't as bad as Catnap but that was an interesting thing I noticed :D
-Different from the reader, Dogday is more used to the time down there so he has a good grasp when day and nights happens in general.
-I am actively ignoring the plotholes here about food and water here. Ya know when you have to poke holes in a lid so the bugs in the container can breathe that is what I doing kjhgfdfghyhgfd
-Nothing to do with the fanfic but I kept listening to this song when I was writing it and I think it's cute.
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sebuckyverse · 1 year
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roommates [chapter 1]
modern!eddie munson x fem!reader
series summary: Eddie Munson broke your heart once. Now, you have no choice but to move in with him. warnings: 18+ cussing, angst, sort of enemies to lovers lol; lmk if i missed anything word count: 1,8k a/n: hello i'm back!! happy valentines day to all my besties and my wife of course! i'm celebrating my birthday today so as a gift to you, i give you a new series! i'm nervous about this bc i'm convinced this is trash lmao LET ME KNOW WHAT Y'ALL THINK babes ps! i originally didn't intend to give this an era, but due to some things that happen in future chapters this turned out modern again lol sorryy
masterlist ↡ askbox ↡ next chapter ↠
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chapter one ♫♪♩·.¸¸
''Absolutely not!''
''Come on, he's not that bad.''
''No, Steve. I'd rather sleep on the streets.''
''You'd rather be homeless then live with him?''
''Yes.''
Steve sighed, hands on his hips, striking his signature mom pose. ''What the hell happened between you two, anyway?''
''What, he hasn't told you?''
''He's told me his version of events. You on the other hand, never seem to want to talk about it.''
Sighing, you stared into the glass sat in front of you, filled with clear liquid with a greenish hue underneath, twirling the small paper umbrella Steve added as a joke.
''It doesn't matter. What Eddie Munson and I once had, or didn't have, theoretically, is in the past.''
''Then take the room. You're both working, you'll hardly ever see each other.''
Dragging your words, you nervously played with the ends of your hair. ''I don't know...''
''Look, I gotta open the doors. You can stay in the back office tonight if you want, there's an uncomfortable leather couch with your name on it. I'd let you crash at ours, but Nance has been... emotional.''
''She okay?'' you winced, hopping of the barstool you had been sitting on the last hour.
''She thinks she can feel the baby kicking but then she realizes that it's far too early for that and starts crying.''
''Oh,'' you cooed. ''She's just excited.''
''Yeah, I know. I'm excited, too.''
You closed the door to the office space that would be your bedroom for the night. It was small, but held a small desk with various papers scattered on it, a bookshelf half empty and as promised, a worn out brown leather couch. Dropping your purse on the desk, you retrieved your phone and sat down on the couch. You rested your head on the back of the couch, eyes closed, nearly falling asleep if it weren't for the sudden rock music booming outside. You'd almost forgotten you were at Steve's place of work, a bar downtown called the Black Room.
Staring at the bleak ceiling, you bit the inside of your cheek when you felt your eyes getting watery. For the past year, after graduating high school, you had been working your ass off at a local diner across town. You were saving money for college, and other things, since you didn't receive the scholarship you hoped would change your life. Every time you got a paycheck, you withdrew some of it and kept it aside. In the year since you started working, the saved amount wasn't big, but it was still significant to you and you were proud of yourself for keeping it and not spending the money like that little devil on your shoulder keeps suggesting sometimes.
But all of that was now gone, and all it took was a simple mistake of trusting the wrong person and all of your hopes and dreams came crashing down, taking your money with it. To save some money, you moved in with an old friend from high school, Jennie. What you didn't know, was that Jennie was also a pathological liar, who was in financial debt and to ease those debts, found the money you had kept hidden under your mattress (a dumb place to hide money, you know that) and stole it to pay off some of her debts.
Throwing Jennie out was not an option unfortunately, the apartment lease was under her name, so without much thought, you turned on your heel and marched right back out. Heading down the street, you had no idea where you were going. You made it two blocks from your home and nearly collided with a lamp post, when the sound of a bus horn somewhere behind you brought you back to reality. You hopped on the bus that stopped a few feet away from you and headed straight downtown to the Black Room, where you knew Steve would be working tonight.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
You must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing you knew, something was kicking at your feet.
''My, my... Look what the cat dragged in.''
You'd recognize that voice anywhere; deep, sometimes raspy from all the cigarettes he likes to smoke, or at least he used to. It's the voice you used to hear late at night, reading a book out loud when you couldn't sleep due to the thunder outside, or when that same voice used to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when you weren't feeling well. It's also the voice that, one day, in less than 12 hours, turned from sweet and caring to cold and distant.
Right, you forgot he worked here too.
You were laying on your side, feet hanging off the couch. You opened your eyes and the first thing you saw were pair of black jeans, ripped from the right knee and left thigh, one of his Converse clad foot was kicking your heels. A black Henley with the front tucked into his pants, the unforgettable handcuff belt on full display with the black leather more worn out than the last time you saw it, Eddie was looking down at you like a God above, the ceiling lamp above him casting a glow around his hair, still the same as it was in high school - at least some things never change.
''Edward.'' You pushed up from the couch, wincing at the tired muscles of your back. Steve was right, that couch was shit.
The use of his full name always used to irritate him, but if it bothered him now, he didn't show it. Instead, he clicked his tongue and took a few steps to his left and sat on the desk, his hands resting beside him, gripping the edge of the table. ''Whatcha doing here, sweetheart? Haven't seen you in years.''
''First of all, don't call me that,'' you sighed. ''Second, that's none of your business.''
Eddie smirked. ''You're at my place of work, it's kind of my business.''
''What time is it?'' you felt around for your phone, but didn't find it.
''Oh, it's uh...'' Eddie pulled a phone out of his back pocket, your phone. ''02:14 am.''
''Hey! Give me that,'' you held your palm up.
Eddie looked at your hand for a moment, before handing the phone back to you, the back of his knuckles grazing your palm. You swallowed down the spark you felt speed across your arm. The sleeves of his shirt were pulled up to his elbow, exposing tattoos you had never seen before as well as his toned arms. Doing a quick once over, you noticed his physique was fuller... everywhere. Does he work out? He was pretty tall and lanky back in high school, but now he looked like he had grown into his body; the jeans were hugging his thighs and his shoulders seemed more defined.
Clearing your throat, you asked, ''Why did you even have that? Is stealing your side hustle now?''
''It was laying on the floor, pardon me. Didn't want to step on it.''
''Fine. Thanks for not stepping on it, I guess,'' you mumbled, keeping your eyes trained on the bookshelf.
''Aren't you gonna ask me what I'm doing here?''
''Don't you work here?''
''Yeah, but not tonight.''
''Okay, I honestly don't care, so...''
''Oh, don't be like that. After all, I'm here to save you.''
You turned to look at him, and that turned Eddie's small smirk into a big Cheshire cat like grin. ''Save me?''
''Steve called me and told me about your predicament.''
Groaning, you threw your head back against the couch. ''God damn Steve.''
''Look, I know we have... history and everything, but I'm only here as a friend. Consider it an olive branch for how things ended back in high school.''
You gaped at him, your eyes bulging and your mouth hanging open. ''Wow. Okay. No, thank you.''
Eddie rolled his eyes. ''You have nowhere else to go.''
''Yes, I do,'' you lied, and very obviously so. You were never any good at it.
''Then why are you sleeping on this fucked up couch?''
Gritting your teeth, you rolled your eyes and looked away from him. Damn Steve and his loud mouth, you were going to hit him on the head. Eddie sighed and got up from the desk, coming closer and crouching next to the couch.
''The offer stands 'til the end of the week. You need a room and I need a roommate now that Steve's gone. I work here every Wednesday through Saturday and after that I usually sleep for two days to get ready for my next shift. We'll hardly ever see each other.''
''Tonight's Wednesday and you're not working.''
''I needed a personal day,'' he winked.
''You know, I've heard about your gigolo way of life.''
Eddie laughed, his eyes shining in the process. ''Gigolo?''
''You're a manwhore.''
Snorting, Eddie rested his hand on his palm, covering his mouth. ''Is that what Steve told you?''
''Are you denying it?'
''No,'' he mused, his voice muffled behind his fist.
''See, that's why I can't move in. I don't want to hear that every night.''
''You used to like hearing me moan in your ear.''
Eddie must have seen the hurt flash across your eyes, since he suddenly grew quiet himself.
His voice was lower now, more serious. What he said next, made you whip your head around and look at those big, chocolate brown eyes that you used to miss so much. ''I know you hate me, I understand that. Despite what happened back then, I still care about you. As a friend, of course. Yes, I sleep around and I am a man so the place is probably messier than you'd like, but I'm offering you a free place to stay. I know you don't have any money either, I'm good to cover us both for a while. Take it or leave it.''
''Why would you do this?'' you asked, looking deep into his eyes, like you were searching for his soul through them.
Sitting so close to him, your chest constricted at all the memories and what if's that have bombarded you throughout the years. Three years after you fled high school, never looking back, he still had a hold on you and you hated him for it. Hated the way he smelled exactly the same but new at the same time, the way he looked like he used to but more mature, the way you still felt your heart nearly burst out of your throat when he looked at you with those stupid brown eyes. You despised him, because after all this time, you still felt the same. If you do this, you had to keep your heart closed, lock it away and swallow the key. Eddie Munson broke your heart once, you won't let him do it again.
''Fine. I'll take it.''
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cobaltperun · 3 months
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Lost (18) - State of my head
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Tara Carpenter x female Reader
Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.
Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics
Word count: 3.1k
Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part
-The only way I'm leavin' is dead That's the state of my, state of my, state of my head-
You read about it a few times, just out of curiosity, just to explain the feeling you'd occasionally get when you completely relaxed and everything came easy and naturally when you just entered the flow and you didn't think about anything. Maybe it was the survival instinct kicking you into it, but you just began moving as the knife approached you from the left. It all seemed so slow to you in that moment.
You stepped back, letting Quinn's hand go past your head before you grabbed and twisted her wrist. The knife fell into your hand and you just slashed through her throat. The blood gushed from her throat and you saw life fading from her eyes before she even had the time to properly process what happened.
You lifted her body up just as Bailey raised his gun and began firing. Four shots later he stopped shooting and stepped back, looking horrified as you just tossed Quinn's body to the side.
You turned your attention to Thomas and saw him shaking his head with a smirk on his face. "Come on then, let's leave the families to their own conflict," he backed away toward the doors leading to the room you and Tara were in before all the while motioning for you to follow him.
"Y/N," Tara's worried voice reached you.
You didn't look at her. You didn't take your eyes off Thomas for a single moment. "Don't interfere or come after me. This is my battle," and then you took off, running after the former MMA fighter.
You ran into the room and couldn't see him anywhere. You still ducked, avoiding a high kick from behind just in time and spinning around to try and slam an uppercut into his jaw.
Thomas just barely regained his footing and leaned his head back, avoiding the punch. The abrupt move cost him his balance and you elbowed him on the cheek with your other arm. Taking the opportunity, you pulled him into a clinch and slammed your fist into his face repeatedly. After the fourth punch connected, he managed to put his forearms up to try and guard his face, but you switched to kneeing him in the guts, twice. His knees buckled and you smashed a haymaker into the side of his head.
Thomas stumbled to the side, eventually dropping to his knees as you went after him dropping a kick right on his back. He grunted, scrambling to his feet and avoiding a kick to the side of the head by less than an inch. Gasping for air he ran up the stairs.
You didn't run, feeling no need to rush this when he was already feeling the strikes you landed. You made your way up the stairs when he threw a chair at you. You just caught it and dropped it on top of him when he tried to attack you, probably thinking you'd dodge and leave yourself more open for an attack that could send you down the stairs. The old chair shattered, and the splinters made tiny cuts on his head and shoulders.
When your eyes met his you could see fear within them. Good. You raised your knee up, connecting it with his jaw, he stumbled back, spitting a tooth out and running away once again. He reached some ladder and began climbing up. You followed him and realized he brought you to the roof. For a moment you took your surroundings in. The inside of the theatre wasn't in the greatest condition, but the roof was way worse. There were rusty rebars sticking all over the roof and there was no fence or anything that would keep someone from falling.
You tilted your head to the side when he pulled out the knife.
"Do you want to know why I'm doing this?" he asked as he tried to catch his breath.
"Don't care," you replied evenly, not showing any signs of emotion to him at the moment. You looked at ease as you walked up to him, only to abruptly close the distance between you and land two quick hits to his face. Thomas dropped down, trying to grab your leg and bring you down, but you jumped back, using the same tactic he used in the bodega to gain advantage. You sidestepped him and kicked him guts, even lifting him off the ground for a moment.
He coughed as he came back down and his eyes widened as you grabbed his collar and slammed him into the room, thus knocking the wind out of his lungs. He managed to bring his arms up, shielding his face as you kept punching his forearms to break his guard. Punch after punch landed and finally you made him drop his guard. He took a hit to the face, just barely staying conscious as the back of his head collided with the concrete under him. Desperately, he moved his head to the side, evading the second punch. And in that same desperation he tried to stab you in the throat, but you easily caught his wrist.
He kept pushing though, and while you had the upper hand you still chose to step back from him.
He stumbled to his feet, gasping for air and spitting out blood. Out of the blue, he smirked and rushed at you, you didn't have any time to react in any other way but to try and go for his neck, but the moment he lifted you off the ground and pushed you a couple of feet back you screamed. He let you go and took several steps back, breathing heavily as you gasped for air.
You looked down, seeing a rusty rebar dripping with blood coming out of you, just beneath your chest. It went right through you, and you were barely able to reach the ground with your feet to keep it from messing you up even more.
"You are about to die anyway, and you did give me quite a thrill of battle just now, so let me tell you a secret," Thomas approached and stabbed the knife into the right side of your chest. He left it there as you just stood there, unable to even muster the energy to move due to the rebar piercing through you. "You were supposed to die right after your fight with Anya, but Bailey offered me lots of money to help him, so you got to live for almost another year."
He pressed against the rebar, forcing a blood-curdling scream out of you as you choked on the blood filling your lung.
"I became a bit of a hitman about five years ago, you know. And someone hired me to kill you. Someone who knew all about you and Zack, as well as Susan. Trust me, the fact that you are his half-sister makes this even better, Y/N. You can die knowing you'll be my favorite kill for a long, long time, maybe even for as long as I live," he twisted the rebar and slowly began pulling. "I have to admit though, I've been hired to kill someone's parent before, but I've never been hired by parents to kill their only child. They couldn’t let their reputation be tarnished by their own daughter being caught up in barbaric conflicts," he yanked the broken rebar out of your body and you dropped down on your side, a pool of blood already forming beneath you.
You were on the verge of losing consciousness as you stared at the rebar that was tossed to the side. He knelt down next to you and pulled the knife out of your chest. "Sorry, I have to make this look as Ghostface-like as possible," you weren't even sure where he was stabbing you, but you felt the cold steel entering your body several times before your fingers clenched around the blood-soaked rebar and you stabbed Thomas through the neck. He stumbled back, but he was still holding onto you, so he somehow pulled you to your feet and the two of you stumbled to the right, plummeting from the roof to the pavement below.
With what little consciousness you had left you saw the knife Thomas dropped next to you two. You fell on top of him, just barely cushioning your fall and letting you stay conscious. You grabbed the knife by the blade and just dropped your arm, hoping it would pierce his throat. You were vaguely aware of some resistance, so you pushed your left palm against the butt of the knife and felt a couple of drops of warm liquid hit your face. You dropped to the side, still holding the knife, and thus twisting it in his throat. If he somehow survived rebar to the neck and the fall you were sure this killed him.
You tried to get up, but your body wouldn't move, and the darkness consumed your consciousness.
~X~
Tara sat with Sam on the stairs in front of the mannequins. She killed Ethan, though he managed to stab her in the stomach. And she got shot in the left arm. Sam killed Bailey and was actually pretty much unharmed. Tara was so relieved Sam was okay, even if her own wound was hurting her like hell, but more importantly, something didn't feel right.
"Y/N is taking too long," she stood up, unable to shake off a bad feeling she had. She should have ignored you; she should have gone after you the moment she knew Sam was fine. You'd be fine though. You were much stronger than her or Sam. You'd come back through that door, and you'd be fine and you'd pick her up and hold her because you'd all make it out of this against all odds.
She and Sam raised their heads when Danny ran in with half a dozen police officers and paramedics.
"Tara! Get outside right now, it's Y/N!" her heart nearly stopped when she realized he had blood on his shirt and hands.
Tara ran past him, not caring if her wounds would start bleeding again, she rushed outside and saw an ambulance surrounded by pure chaos. Between all the paramedics she saw blood dripping to the floor of the van.
"The bleeding won't stop! We're losing her!" she had no idea how she didn't collapse right then and there as she stumbled forward and reached the van.
"Stay back, miss!" one of the paramedics warned her.
Tara didn't understand what they were telling her. She couldn’t comprehend what was happening in front of her eyes. This wasn’t true, this was… She watched you, your clothes soaked with blood, she watched the blood dripping down. "Y/N? Baby?" this couldn't be happening. This was a nightmare. She must have fallen asleep and was having the worst nightmare of her life. "Baby, please," she cried out, reaching in to grab your hand.
You were cold and still. You didn't react to her touch.
"Her pulse is getting weaker!" someone yelled and all of a sudden all Tara could hear was intense buzzing, all she could feel was the blood, your blood, sticking to her hands, all she could see was dark red liquid and your unmoving body.
“Y/N!” she cried out, gasping for air, but not caring for a moment as her lungs struggled for oxygen. “Y/N!” you had to wake up, you had to open your eyes, to move, to give her any sign that you were going to be fine. “Don’t! Please wake up!” she began coughing, her body convulsing as she went into shock, just barely clutching onto the ambulance doors, the closest she could get to you. “Please don’t leave me, please, Y/N, please don’t,” she cried and screamed, and tried to shake off whoever was pulling her away from the ambulance, away from you. "Let go of me!" she screamed, breaking free just as the ambulance closed and drove off and Tara just dropped to her knees as some paramedic began checking on her.
It didn’t matter what was happening to her. It didn't matter how she was. They were taking you away from her! She looked to her side when Sam dropped to her knees next to her, Sam was crying. "They found a rusty rebar near her, it went through her."
Too much. It was too much.
Tara just lost consciousness.
~X~
When Tara woke up she was in the hospital, surrounded by Sam, Chad, Mindy, and Danny. She immediately sat up and tried to get up, but Sam stopped her. "Y/N?" she needed to know, her eyes frantically searching their faces for any sign or reaction to your name.
"She's alive!" Sam quickly reassured her, and Tara felt like she could breathe again, even if she began crying from relief.
"I need to go and see her," she tried to get up, but Sam was still holding her down.
"She's in a coma, Tara, she lost too much blood and they don't know if she'll wake up," Sam's voice shook as she said that.
Tara just felt like her whole world fell apart.
Later that day she found out that you were stabbed five times, one of which pierced your right lung, but luckily it didn’t collapse. Worse than that was the rusty rebar going through you, it went in through the small of your back and came out just below your chest. Then the fall from almost thirty feet caused internal bleeding and while you survived the surgery and they didn't find any brain damage, you were in a coma.
~X~
Two days later you were still in a coma, with no signs of waking up any time soon. Tara didn't even have any energy left to cry, she just sat by your side, afraid to leave you even for a second. What if you woke up and she wasn't there? What if something went wrong and she wasn't there.
"Please, wake up," she whispered, she needed you to wake up, to say anything, or even to just look at her. Anything would be fine. She felt cold and alone, and she did the only thing she was used to doing when she felt like that. She reached out for you, she lay down on the bed, curling into your side while taking extra care not to touch any of the wounds you had. She was barely touching you, but just for a moment she felt warm and safe again. It was a fleeting moment of happiness, though.
You didn't touch her. You didn't hold her. You didn't move. You couldn't do any of that and Tara began shaking, the cold seeping into her bones as tears she didn't even know she had left soaked the sleeve of your gown.
Sobs and loud cries wrecked her throat and her whole body, and even when Sam came in to comfort her, frantically trying to make up for the lack of your warmth, Tara still kept crying. Yet, even with her screams you didn't react.
~X~
On the sixth day, only Sam came by, since Chad and Mindy could no longer delay going back home and had to get ready to leave. Tara was still at the hospital 24/7. She would read to you, talk to you, tell you repeatedly how much she missed and how much she loved you, she would just as often apologize to you, for plenty of things. You still didn't wake up.
On the tenth day, not even Sam could come, she had to cover two shifts at work. Tara stayed, she stayed, this time telling you about the future she imagined, the future in which you were awake. She imagined a different life, one without Ghostface in it, a life she was spending with you and Sam and all the people she loved without trauma and fear of letting someone new in. She cried that day, overwhelmed by what could have been and what could be. Overwhelmed because you couldn’t respond, you couldn’t tell her if you wanted that exact future as well, or if you’d rather create that future somewhere else. Even with someone else, as long as you woke up that would be enough for Tara. You still didn’t wake up.
On the twelfth day, Sam tried to get her to leave your side. At least for a little bit. To take a walk, get some fresh air. Tara did walk, she walked around your room. She'd open the windows to keep the air fresh for you when you woke up. Tara knew what Sam wanted to tell her; Tara knew Sam was losing hope that you'd wake up. But Tara wasn’t losing hope. You’d wake up. You’d come back to her, like you always did, and you’d recover and stay by her side for the rest of Tara’s life. You didn't wake up that day either.
On the sixteenth day, Tara once again crawled into the bed next to you. For the first time since the second day. Once again, she felt the same freezing cold, she could barely breathe, she was wheezing and coughing next to you, crying her heart out after holding back the tears for the past six days. She needed her inhaler, but she didn't want to move from you, she needed to feel you next to her more than she needed air. And then her eyes widened, her breathing stopped, and her body stilled completely as the tears fell down her face freely. She felt it. The softest touch on her back. She looked at your face and saw you blinking slowly.
Tara just watched you, going as far as to forget how to breathe. You smiled softly, taking what little oxygen she had left away. You raised your hand, gently tapping her back. She realized you were telling her to breathe. So, she took a breath and continued breathing as she began crying once again, this time too happy to stop her tears.
"I love you, Y/N," she said as softly as she possibly could and pressed a kiss on your cheek.
She felt safe and warm once again, and you, as difficult as it must have been, wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer.
A/N: One chapter to go! Big thanks to Anon who indirectly gave me a bit of an epiphany for my nickname problem. Thanks to everyone reading and I'll see you next time! Updated: 30.03.2024.
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kingofbodyrolls · 6 months
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BTS fic recs: my 30th birthday special
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Shit. I’m turning 30 today (I still feel like I’m 18 lol) 😯 So I wanted to make this special recommendation list for you, as a birthday present from me 💜 This includes some of my all time favorites (no, I’ll never stop screaming about those!!!!) and also, some good old ones that I’ve never gotten around to rec at the time. 
I also have another birthday present for you (wish is also why I didn’t finish my reading list and why ‘Friendcation’ is on pause until after my birthday). I wrote a short one-shot, so if you’re in the mood for that, check it out → ‘Say that Again (I Dare You)’ [reader x jjk (ft. pjm)].
I actually didn’t get to finish my reading list for this special rec list, so I’ll add the rest of my recommendations as I read them (I’ll specify which I haven’t re-read yet) and the rest will be posted to this month’s regular rec list.
I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹
❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗ 
If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂
BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (💜) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |
Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻.
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Namjoon
⭐All Night by @luaspersona // knj x f.reader // college!au, brother’s best friend!au, s2l // 🥵
📝 When your brother bails on you, you have to find another way to entertain yourself for the night and Kim Namjoon just so happens to be a great company.
🗨️ This was the most perfect, pure masterpiece of fucking gold writing 🤌🏾🥵 it is insanely filthy, so deliciously smutty!! Like I think my soul has left my body 🥵 the writing, story and the characters were brilliant ✨ this is hands down one of my new favorites and I WILL read this again soon, I promise you! Don’t sleep on this sweet bad boy Namjoon, okay 🥵 such an easy recommendation for me to make - do yourself a favor and read it if you haven’t (and if you have, then read it again!) ♥️💯
⭐All Aboard! (the passion express) by @ve1vetyoongi // knj x f.reader // office worker!namjoon // 🥵
📝 There were not many things that got your blood boiling in the same way that two simple words could. Kim Namjoon. The name of your irritating and (unfortunately enough, as the universe would have it) incredibly handsome co-worker. Which is exactly why you never expected to find your self on your knees for him on the train home.
🗨️ Holy fuck, fuck, fuck this was so incredibly filthy (in the best way possible) 🥵 the tension between reader and Namjoon was perfect, the build up was so satisfying 🌟 what’s not to like ✨😍
⭐The Wedding Arrangement by @sugaurora // knj x f.reader // ‘enemies’ to friends to lovers, wedding!au // 🥵🥰🌩️
📝 Unfortunately, he’s just gotten engaged to someone who isn’t you. Even more unfortunately, he expects you to help plan the wedding alongside Kim Namjoon, his other best friend and, based on your first meeting, just another judgmental jerk. Putting aside your distaste for the sake of your friend’s happiness, you both set about giving Seokjin the wedding of his dreams. Following a rough and satisfying affair at the caterer’s, you strike an unusual deal: you and Namjoon will be enemies with benefits until the wedding is over. And after six months of wedding planning, you both just might learn that weddings aren’t usually the end, but a brand new beginning.
🗨️ This was so amazing 🥹 the characters had so much depth and ugh! It was just so, so good. It was a pleasure reading their love unfolding 🥰 aish, I’m soft! It’s filled with plenty of soft, slight heartbreaking angst at times, but oh so fluffy and smutty too! It was perfect 👌🏾 💯 please don’t sleep on this one, okay? 🥹
Yoongi
⭐Roommates by @automnesleaves [AO3] [119K] // myg x f.reader // roommates!au, covid!au, slice of life // 😂🥰🌩️
📝 February 2020: Your best friend Jimin’s roommate recommendation, IT guy Yoongi Min, moves in with you. March 2020: Covid Lockdown.
🗨️ This is really, really good! I remember being so hooked on this, that I stayed up multiple nights to finish chapters. It was hard to put down, and so interesting to read how readers luck slowly turned – also, the dynamic between reader and Yoongi is great and there’s just so much lovely slice of life in it 💜
⭐Three Tangerines [series; ongoing] by @kithtaehyung // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵
📝 Throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.
🗨️ Yes. This is here again. It is one of my all-time favorites and I will not stop screaming about how fucking good this is! You just have to join the 3tan party or you are severely missing out, Doll. 💖✨
⭐Oh, darling! [series; completed] by @yoongiofmine // myg x f.reader // university!au, non idol au, professor!yoongi, student!reader // 🥰🌩️🥵
📝 Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you’ve held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought? 
🗨️ Holy fucking shit 🥵🫣😳 This is just one of my favorites series, EVER 💜 This is in my top 10, no questions! ✨
Hoseok
⭐Fate Doesn’t Exist by @whenIseeUsmile [AO3] [47K] // jhs x myg (mxm) // pilot!au, formula1!au // 😂🌩️
📝 Yoongi is a pilot. Hoseok is a Formula 1 driver. Jungkook's a fanboy and Jimin is oblivious.
Yoongi hates people but likes one-night-stands. One in particular but he doesn't like the fact that he's famous. He really shouldn't get involved with Hoseok. He does it anyways.
🗨️ I’ve read this multiple times! And it will forever be one of my favorites! I just love how their personality compliments each other, and how they keep meeting each other (also can’t stay away from each other). Plus, the side couples, both Jungkook x Jimin and Namjoon x Seokjin are just fucking hilarious – everything about this is golden, so if you’re into mxm it’s a really good read! 👏
⭐Flight 18 by @noona-la-la-la [9.5K] // jhs x f. reader // flight!au, idol!au // 🥵😂
📝 Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul.  You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat.  Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.
🗨️ This was just really really amazing; utterly funny (like I was laughing at certain points), so much sexual tension that evolves into satisfying smut 😗
Jimin
⭐The Airport Couple: P[ass]anger from Hell + Drabble by @dovechim & @jimlingss [8K] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, frequent traveler jimin x tsa agent reader // 😂😂😂🥰
📝 As a TSA agent, you expect your job to be relatively easy, most passengers these days follow the rules to the T in order to avoid prolonging their custom checks. But not a certain Park Jimin, who seems to have a problem understanding what 100ml is, or the very simple fact that gadgets must be taken out of the bag, and bomb jokes are strictly off limits. Frequent traveller Park Jimin is your nemesis, but darn is he a cute one.
🗨️ This is just so fucking hilarious, don’t get me started. I laughed from beginning to end 😂 And it’s still as good as I remember, if not even better??? Like ✨ I’ve highlighted a few of my favorite parts from the fic. I don’t want to give too much away, but these lines are just so damn hilarious! Please go read it, it’s one of my faves 💯
⭐The Airport Couple: Park Jimin’s Cock[pit] by @jimlingss & @dovechim [12K] // pjm x f.reader // pilot!au, bf2l, coworkers!au // 😂🥰🥵
📝 Talk about Angry Birds, and most people would immediately think of the mobile game app. But within your circle of friends, it stands for something else. It’s synonymous with Park Jimin, one of the most talented pilots from your batch who also just happens to have anger issues, or in other words, air rage. He is your best friend, but when you get teamed up with him as his co-pilot, you can only pray that things don’t go south… literally. 
🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago, and I loved it then and I still do ✨ It is incredibly funny, has good banter and dialogue to match. The chemistry between reader and Jimin is just priceless, their friendship is just pure giggles 🥹 It’s also fluffy and will tug on your heartstrings in the best way possible. Just really, really good and definitely also one of my all-time favorites 💯💜
⭐Since We Met by @inkjam-moon [9.2K] // pjm x f.reader // roommate!au // 🥵🥰🌩️
📝 Your in love with your roommate, so you think maybe trying to date someone else will help you get over him, but when your roommate shows signs of jealousy, you begin to wonder; could he like you back?
🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).
⭐Turbulence by @yminie [9.3K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰
📝 On your first flight the cute boy next to you helps to sooth your nerves, and on the second flight he soothes something else.
🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).
⭐Accelerate by @yminie [8.9K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰
📝 Jimin comes to retrieve his jacket on the condition that you then accompany him for dinner, and you can bet he satiates every hunger.
🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).
⭐Beneath the Water by @jungshookz // pjm x reader // fantasy!au + mermaid!au // 🌩️🥵🥰😂
📝 His legs were sparkling. You looked up from his face slowly and towards his legs, your head tilting in confusion when you were met with the sight of… well, it certainly wasn’t a pair of legs. What the fuck?
🗨️ This is just perfect; a tiny bit angst, gold certified comedy and fluff (with a sprinkle of smut). There’s also a bullet point drabble of this, so please check that out too (here).
⭐Make Me by @jikookiekosmos // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰🌩️
📝 After a bad breakup, you decide to go out one night and drink your sorrows away - that is, until you see your now ex-boyfriend there with someone clinging to his arm. To get your mind off of things, you go back to your job after hours; what you don’t expect is for your boss and CEO of the company, Park Jimin, to show up and offer you help in ways you didn’t know you needed.
🗨️ It has heavy dom/sub themes (which I’m normally not into, but imma switch for this one!). It is incredibly hot and so, so damn perfect 🥵
⭐Pay Attention by @jikookiekosmos // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰
📝 You’d mentioned it in passing once before, your fantasy about blowing your boss - and now boyfriend - under his desk during one of his important CEO business meetings. So what happens when you want to turn that fantasy into a reality, and he wants it just as much?
🗨️ This is a sequel to ‘Make Me’ (but can be read as a stand-alone) - and it is just pure dirty smut. The dynamic between reader and Jimin is just so good ✨
Jungkook
⭐The Wedding Planners by @gukyi [28K] // jjk x f.reader // e2l, wedding!au // 😂🥰🌩️🥵
📝 Jeon jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. then your best friend hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly jeon jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding. 
🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it was just a very funny and pleasant reread 💜 What I love about this is one, is definitely the slow-burn and the enemies to lovers aspect too. The banter between reader and Jungkook is just so priceless and reading how their relationship slowly unfolds and develops through the months of the wedding planning was just everything 💯 Hoseok and Yoongi’s personality in this also makes this fic truly amazing.
⭐Secret Slut (1) by @jeonsweetpea [7.7K] // jjk x f.reader (ft. pjm) // office!au, pa!jungkook x ceo!reader // 😂🌩️🥵
📝 Jungkook accidentally gifts you, his boss, a sex toy for Secret Santa.
🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago and now I see that there’s even a part two to it, that I haven’t read! This one is really funny, like straight up hilarious – really made me laugh at times and then it got so freaking smutty 🥵 Really good!
⭐Secret Slut (2) by @jeonsweetpea [18.1K] // jjk x f.reader + pjm x f. reader // office!au, pa!jungkook, pa!jimin, ceo!reader // 🌩️🥵
📝 After being fired, Jungkook finds himself a new job only to realize he misses you too much. He comes back to discover you’ve hired a new personal assistant, Jimin. You offer him the only job position available, which was being the assistant’s assistant. Being demoted results in Jungkook feeling inadequate and he soon learns what it means to be jealous.
🗨️ I was so speechless after reading the last part of the series, like 🥵🥵🥵🥵 There’s so much smut in this, you’re like swimming in it, lol! And then something happens, that I won’t spoil because I actually didn’t expect that to happen (even though I should have seen it coming, because the build-up was there). So, a really good read! 
⭐Departure by @nomnomsik [6.2K] // jjk x f.reader (ft. jimin) // pilot!au, coworkers!au // 🥵🥰
📝 As a flight attendant for Korean Air, you’re scheduled for a thirteen-hour flight to Japan. However, things get intimate between you and your partner and co-pilot, Jeon Jungkook, when he realizes Park Jimin, the famous idol from Korea, broads the plane and blatantly flirts with you. 
🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).
⭐Something Like Love by @iamtaekooked [8.4K] // jjk x f.reader // cop!au, police office!au // 🥰
📝 It was meant to be a regular day at the hospital. That is until you get kidnapped in broad daylight. Meanwhile, the famous detective Jeon Jeongguk who also happens to be your best friend, just wanted a normal day free of world’s bullshit, but he couldn’t even have that.
🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).
⭐The Forgotten Spaces [completed series] by @oddinary4bts // jjk x reader // college!au, dancer!au + e2l // 🌩️🥵🥰
📝 you’ve been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?
🗨️ This is truly a masterpiece! The writing is perfect and the characters have so much soul, dimension, hurt and love. It is exceptional 👏🏾♥️ you just have to read this gem 💎
⭐Two point Five (2.5): pt2 + pt3 [series] by @bratkook // jjk x f.reader // handyman!jk, s2f2l // 🥵🥰
📝 Who would have thought booking a handyman from an app would lead to this. sure, you wish he’d mount you instead of just your television, but you could totally be friends. Right?
🗨️ This is also one of my all time favorites! 💎There is just something incredibly hot about handyman JK 🥵 It is so good, juicy, smutty and there's comedy in it too! Please don’t be sleeping on this one.
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Okay, okay, okay. So the list got out of hand! And I know I say “this is in my top 10” but I can’t even pick my top 10 because I have waaaay too many favorites 😂
I hope you have an awesome day, are happy and stay healthy! I’ll go and enjoy my birthday with a chill day, birthday dinner with my family, probably some reading and watching the finale of Loki  🥳 🎂 Thank you so much for liking, commenting or reblogging my rec lists, it means a lot to me – remember to reblog, comment and/or like the fics you like on the list to the the lovely authors know you love their stuff 💜
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atinystraynstay · 4 months
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I'd Wait For You - Joshua Hong
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Synopsis: Joshua was your best friend, the person who has witnessed you grow and blossom. That includes being front row to watching you fall in and out of love with people. Joshua was convinced he could treat you better. Could you find yourself to let him in?
Pairing: non-idol! Joshua Hong x fem reader
Genre: Angst, childhood friends to lovers, fluff here and there!
Word Count: 2.3k
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When Joshua thought of the person he was, it was because of you. You were the one who helped him pick out clothes so he found his style, you were the one who boosted his confidence he he doubted himself and pushed him to try new things, and you were the one who helped him made bad decisions sometimes in the hopes of making long-lasting memories. You were his person.
It was written by the universe that the two of you would be best friends. With your mothers being so close, there is no denying that you two will always have an important place in each other's lives.
Ever since you were younger, you two didn't go somewhere without the other. You attended the same schools, even the same college. Sure, college led you two to different friend groups, different activities, and different majors. But you always made time for each other even when life got busy. You two would study constantly and promised to have one meal together once a week. And you two never broke that promise.
Anyone who witnessed your friendship always commented there was something more. Joshua saw it too. He easily fell for you. How couldn't he? You accepted every version of himself and were the person who brought him an immense source of comfort. He couldn't imagine life without you.
Unfortunately, he had to imagine what it would be like to be with you.
"Do you think he's worth it?" You sighed.
The two of you were on FaceTime. It was a Tuesday night. While Joshua was at home, waiting for his food delivery, you were busy getting ready for a date.
Part of the reason why Joshua had to imagine what life would be like if you two were together is because you were seeing someone. For the past few months, you've been dating this guy named Ben. Now, Joshua didn't think much of Ben at first. He didn't seem like your type, so he thought he would come and go.
And he has to some extent. Ben and you had this awful habit of breaking up and getting back together. While it pained Joshua to see you with someone else, he loved the moments you confided him about your dating woes. He took mental notes of dos and donts for when you two (hopefully) get together. Ben was striking out left and right, mainly due to his poor communication. What Joshua didn't understand was why you always found yourself going back to him.
"Y/n, I don't know. You guys break up so much, I've lost count," he laughed. "It's only been 3 times," you groaned. "3 times what? This week?" "But he said he's changed this time. I mean, he even sent flowers to my apartment after our argument two nights again. That's got to mean something, right?" Joshua wanted to roll his eyes so much at your rationale. He adored you with every fiber in his being, and he didn't want to come across as dismissive, but he felt frustrated both because of you and for you. Ben was not worth it in his eyes. Nobody is worth it for you except for him. But he was your best friend. That was his role. "Maybe, angel. But there's only so much flowers can do to make up for how he treats you sometimes." Your smile had flattened by Joshua's words. And it pained him. He never wanted to be a source of sadness in your life. I guess that's why Joshua often pushed his feelings for you aside. He didn't want to be selfish and confess because that might cause a bigger mess. He loved you. He has since he was 8 years old. If you only saw him as a best friend, he would proudly take that role.
In a perfect world, you would confess to Joshua your feelings. He was ready to embrace those feelings head-on because he knew how he felt about you. What kept him back was not knowing how you felt towards him. You've always been so prominent in each other's lives. He didn't want to imagine a world without you. He was terrified that if he did ever confess, it would only push you away.
Joshua had found himself as the leading man in a tragic love story. "Just promise me something?" He requested. "Whatever you decide, follow your heart."
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You had to hang up the phone call in order to get ready for your date. Joshua sighed once you face vanished from his phone. He set the phone on the coffee table before driving his fingers through his hair.
How could this happen? You were supposed to be with him, not with some random guy you met who knows where? Not with someone who doesn't see your value.
The whole situation frustrated him beyond belief. On paper, you guys were a perfect match. You two knew each other like the back of your hand. Even when you did have a disagreement, you guys would not allow it to blow up. You spoke to each other with respect, even if you were both angry because you cared about each other. In some ways, you could say you loved each other. Joshua definitely was in love with you.
He has received relentless teasing from his friends about his lack of making a move on you. His friends thought even pushing might cause him to crack. And it almost did. Yet, he was still afraid of losing you and now he might actually be.
You always saw him as a friend, or at least that's what Joshua believed. You two were best friends, nothing more and nothing less. This wasn't some love story where the childhood best friends fall for each other, no matter how many times he prayed it would happen. This was his reality. If he had to let you go to keep you in his life, he would. And he would be there to pick up the pieces each time.
Suddenly, a buzz brought Joshua out of his mind and back to the present moment. He sat up a little straighter, looking towards the door of his apartment. Did he hear that correctly? He glanced towards the clock on the wall. 8:16pm.
Ding dong. Who could that be?
Joshua pushed himself off of the couch before shuffling towards the door. It was just a short walk towards the front of the apartment. He slowly unlocked the top lock and twisted the doorknob to unlock his front door.
There you were.
"Y/n?! What happened?" "Why didn't you fight for me?"
Your voice was calm, yet your body language screamed rage. You had your hair pulled back in a clip, exposing your bare face to the world. You looked divine, but Joshua didn't have time to compliment you. He noticed how your eyebrows were slightly scrunched up while you stared into him. He thought your gaze was going to burn a hole right through them. You were wearing a zip-up hoodie and sweatpants.
"Answer me, Joshua."
Oh no, I'm in deep shit. He was at a loss for words as he stared at you. His mind racking through all the interactions you had. Did he say something over FaceTime? Did he forget to say something? Did you ask him to do something but he forgot? He was drawing a blank.
"Do you like me yes or no, Joshua? Because everyone is saying you do besides you."
His eyes grew wide at that statement. Who spilled? "Y/n, listen-" "No, Joshua, you listen. How dare you let me go on dates with people who treat me poorly. You're my best friend! We're supposed to tell each other everything." That part you whispered. "How could you not tell me?"
"What a damn minute," Joshua finally said. He had a raised eyebrow before opening the door all the way. He stepped aside to let you in, motioning for you to follow him. "I am not going to argue with you outside of my apartment. Get in." You sighed and nodded, slowly stepping in. Obviously something happened in between from the moment you guys to now. Who did you speak to? Who told you his secret? Why were you angry?
Once you were fully into his apartment, Joshua closed the door. You immediately found a spot on his couch, right beside where he was previously sitting. Your hands were locked in front of you, your one leg bouncing. Your breathing was starting to slow down a bit but you gaze was still locked on him. While not as intense, you still had your eyes trained on him.
"Can I get you a water or something before we continue this conversation?" He asked gently.
"There you go again!" You groaned. Your head leaned until it hit the pillow behind you. Your gaze is now trained on the ceiling above you two. He was surprised, completely speechless as he thought he was doing the right thing. "I'm so sick of you being nice to me."
Joshua raised an eyebrow before shuffling over to you. He took a seat on the couch beside you but kept enough distance. He wasn't sure how to process all that was transpiring, but he needed to understand where you were coming from. And apparently have some explaining to you.
"Y/n, sweet girl, you need to tell me what's going on." "You is what is going on," you confessed.
Slowly, you sat up until you were at eye level with him once again. The room was tense. He was nervous, afraid that what you had been told was going to bring his worst fear to reality - that he might lose you. "Joshua, you've set too high of a standard for me. You're kind without asking for anything in return. You treat me like a fucking princess when I'm only your best friend. I'm angry that we aren't together but you treat me better than any guy I've been with."
Was this actually happening? Were you confessing to him? "Y/n, do you like me?" 'I have liked you since I knew what it meant to have a crush on someone," you admitted. "But."
Not the cursed 'but.' "We're best friends. I didn't eat to be presumptuous and think you like me when we've been friends for so long. But then Seungkwan told me that you had feelings for me yesterday. I didn't think it was true especially not when you pushed me to go out with someone else tonight."
Fuck. "Y/n, look, we are best friends," Joshua began. You looked at him as if you just stabbed him in the heart. "But, I fell in love with my best friend."
Very gently, he took both of your hands in his. You stared up at him with a facial expression he couldn't recognize. This was new for both of you. You were venturing into uncharted territory for the two of you. His thumbs caressed over your knuckles which both soothed your nerves but caused your heart to pound faster. "This was not the way I planned on telling you," he confessed. "I actually wanted to tell you once you were single again because I didn't want to stand in the way of being happy." This time, you reached out to him. Keeping one hand in his, your other hand reached over to run your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back to expose his face more. You seemed to relax under your touch which made you smile for the first time that evening. "Josh, I'm my happiest when I'm with you. Have I not made that clear in all the years we've known each other?" "Y/n, you know I have too much respect for you and too much invested in this friendship to just assume someone like you could ever be into me." You squeezed his hand gently, unable to stifle the giggle leaving your lips. You moved closer to him, our lips almost right under his. "This is so silly. What are we doing? Why are we keeping ourselves from being our happiest versions of ourselves?" He smirked at your question. With his free hand, he cupped your cheek gently. His thumb caressed over your cheek affectionately as he gazed into your eyes. He always has been mesmerized by the fact that your eyes captured any light in the room. They sparkled like two disco balls. "Let's change that," he murmured.
Time stopped. He leaned in so his lips grazed against yours as if he was testing the waters. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable with what was about to happen, as there was no turning back. When you didn't pull away, he got the green light he's been chasing after. His lips fully pressed against yours.
Your head gently tilted up, leaning to the side so your lips fit against him like two missing puzzle pieces. It felt like tiny sparks were going off against your lips. It was a feeling the two of you would soon be addicted to. And it felt so comfortable, so natural. His lips slowly chased after yours for a moment.
Even though he felt the urge to continue kissing you, to never let this moment pass, he did pull back. His forehead found yours, revealing the wide grin the two of you wore. He couldn't help but chuckle before pecking your lips once more. Joshua was just over the moon. He was eager for whatever may be next for the two of you, especially now that there were no limitations. You were his best friend, but now the girl who knew how he felt.
"I kept my promise you know," you spoke softly.
Joshua raised an eyebrow but kept a warm smile. Now what were you talking about? "You had me promise to follow my heart. And I did. You've been my heart, my love all this time."
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kiwisbell · 7 months
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Whiskey Sour
chapter three: painkiller
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Reuniting with your estranged father while you finish college in Austin has unintended consequences. His best friend, for one.
series masterlist
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
rating: 18+ (mdni)
series tags and warnings: dbf!joel being extremely criminally attractive, big ol' age gap (40s/early 20s), unprotected piv (do not follow the leader), creampie, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m and f receiving), dry humping, spitting, biting, joel miller is a MUNCH, very appropriate use of a showerhead, consensual somnophilia, yoga, heavy emphasis on payphones, daddy issues, family reunions, angst, dead mom, grief and mourning, father/daughter relationship, bartending, reader is a woman in STEM (author is not), being a student in university deserves a warning probably, attempted drugging (roofies), college boys suck, possessive sex, possessive joel, protective joel, obligatory warning for joel's salt-and-pepper hair, masturbation, wet dreams, no outbreak AU, hurt/comfort, healing, no sarah or ellie, stargazing, face-sitting, pining/yearning, happy ending
word count: ~ 5.6k
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chapter 3: painkiller
Stargazing, and knowing wrong from right.
Joel doesn't quite trust your car not to blow up, so he drives you both out near Devil’s Cove when the clock strikes eleven. 
You sit next to him on the truck bench, in your little skirt, and he tries not to look at the way it slips up your thighs. He cannot stop thinking about your words: Don't think you aren't getting a gift after everything you've done to help me. Part of him is thrilled to know you think about him enough to get eager about celebrating his birthday. Another part of him doesn't want to celebrate getting older. He’s old enough. 
A third part doesn't give a shit about a present, when he's got you right here, right next to him. 
“You were right,” he says. “I do like the telescope.”
“Did you spend a lot of time in the country?”
He drums his fingers on the steering wheel even though the truck radio is apparently tuned to a local station that does not play music. The announcer’s voice drones on about the Longhorns’ losing streak. “When I was a kid,” says Joel. “My parents had a farmhouse—raised cows, chickens, sheep, all of it. They had a business goin’ for the locals who wanted eggs or fresh meat.”
You can picture it: a younger Joel, dressed in a farmer’s flannel and a cowboy hat, herding sheep and tending to customers with that same charming smile you know now. “Do you have any siblings?”
“Younger brother. Tommy.” Joel briefly glances your way. “Lost my dad when I was ten. After that, Mom, Tommy, and I ran the place ourselves. I dropped out of high school to do it full-time when she got sick.”
You feel a twinge in your chest. “You, too, huh?”
He sighs through his nose. “Yeah. I would've been about your age.”
“Funny, the way things work out.” You lean back in your seat and turn your head back to the windshield. “But that does sound nice. A life away from all the madness. Just… quiet. Simple.”
“You'd like that?” Joel chuckles. “Thought you were a city girl.”
“I’m not saying I want to milk cows all day,” you tell him with a laugh. “Mom and I used to drive to the east coast in the summertime when I was in high school. We’d visit all the coastal towns and the little restaurants, go whale-watching. That was the only time we could really relax, outside the big city. I looked forward to those vacations most, before she got sick.”
Joel recognises the melancholy tone your voice takes when you talk about your mother. He hears it in his own voice. “She sounds like a good mom.”
“She was.” Your eyes flick to him again, and this time, he's looking at you. “I’m sorry, Joel. I would've liked to meet her.”
“I'd like that, too.” He fixes his eyes back on the road. “You, uh… you hear from Liam lately?”
“And we were having such a nice conversation,” you tease. “He lives with me, Joel. I’m bound to hear from him on a regular basis. Practically daily.”
Not the right answer. His hands tighten around the wheel. “I don’t like him.”
“I couldn't tell.” You pull your knees up to your chest and hug yourself into a tight ball. “You know I’ve never had a real boyfriend?”
Joel scoffs. “Excuse me if I have a hard time believin’ that.”
“I’m being serious!” 
“Nah. No way.” Joel shakes his head. “Those idiot high school boys were linin’ up at your door the way these idiot college boys are. You’re too pretty to have never had a fuckin’ boyfriend.”
Your cheeks feel white-hot. “Joel. That’s ridiculous.”
“I ain’t lyin’.” His grin is boyish when he looks at you again and your nerves flutter. “Guys have a way of knowin’ things.”
“Oh, you're so full of shit.” You smack him gently in the arm. “If they were all so interested, why'd they never tell me?”
“Because they were boys.” He gives you a pointed look. “And so is that asshole you live with. He thinks he's got a right to you ‘cause you live with him.”
“No, he—”
“Yes, he does. Any guy would be lucky as shit to have you.”
You lift your brows, opening your mouth to retort, but Joel just looks away, that crooked smirk pissing you off as much as it makes your heart pound with girlish anxiety. “We’re here.”
You slump back in your seat as he parks in a dirt lot by the edge of the water. Just down the road, by the docks, there will be college kids gearing up to celebrate the Longhorns’ first win of the season, and some just wanting an excuse to get hammered. You hop out of the truck as Joel unlatches the gate at the back. “Should be a good view here…”
He trails off when he looks up to find you staring at the midnight sky. The light of the stars reflects in your eyes and the curve of your neck shimmers with a faint layer of sweat in the humid air. When you swallow, he watches your throat hollow, and he wonders how a man is supposed to forget you. If a man can ever see your face, your body, your wondrous, awe-struck smile, and rest peacefully. 
“They’re beautiful,” you gasp. “Just like… like the coast in summertime.”
Joel surprises himself when he joins you at your side and reaches for your hand. “It’ll look better if you're laying down,” he says softly. “C’mon.”
You put your hand in his. The touch shifts his axis. The touch is an electric shock to his entire body, restructuring his pathways, reconfiguring his brain. The touch, he thinks, will forever change the way he sees you. It will change everything. 
“Joel.”
“Mmm.” He realises he hasn't moved. His fingers engulf yours, your skin so soft under his rough palms that he worries he'll somehow ruin it. 
“Thank you.” It’s a whisper, your pretty lips parting in the shape of a gratitude he will never deserve but will spend his moments earning as best he can. Your eyes are fixed on your joined hands, the way your thumb caresses the space between his thumb and forefinger. 
He leads you toward the back of the truck. You crawl up yourself, and it's ungentlemanly of him not to help you up, but he cannot touch you again. The world will fall out from beneath his feet. 
But it still does. When you shift so you're lying on your back, barely a foot from him, the earth blinks out of existence. All that remains is the faint heave of your chest, skin scattering moonlight, and the way you meet his eyes in the void. 
“Gotta look up to see the stars, baby.” His voice is rough. 
Your head turns and you face the sky above, but he doesn't move. Not quite yet. He savours the image of your profile, the silvery light on your face, the contentment in your eyes. Your lashes are spidery and your hair fans out beneath you, and all he wants to do is reach out. Touch. Guide you beneath him. Gaze into your eyes as he undresses you. Watch your bones melt for him, your troubles flee your brain, your mouth drop open in a long, dark whine. His name. 
“That one’s Venus.” You point to a bright star overhead, and then another. “And that’s Polaris. Those are the only two I really know. And you aren't looking at the stars.”
Joel swallows hard. “No. I’m not.”
“I like it when you call me that.” Your eyes meet his again. Your noses are inches apart. 
“Call you what?”
Your breath is a warm puff of air. “Baby.”
He’s losing control of his own body. His fingers crave the warmth of your skin, the heat between your thighs, the knowledge of what's under that fucking skirt. His whole body craves your closeness, needs your attention, will die without you curled up against him. His body seeks the ruination of yours. His heart seeks the comfort he knows he can give you. 
“That so?” He can barely get it out. 
Your eyes are wide, buttery soft, needy. “Yeah,” you sigh. “It feels good.”
Jesus Christ. “I…” His mouth is so fucking dry he can hardly swallow anymore. “I didn’t mean for—”
“I know.” He’s going to do it. He’s going to throw all of it away and touch you. He’s going to—
Your head turns back toward the sky, and your eyes flutter shut. He can see a small pearl trail down your cheek, and he realises it's a tear. “I’m sorry,” you say, your voice breaking. “This is your pre-birthday. You should be giving me ideas for a better gift.”
Joel’s own voice isn't faring much better. His laugh comes out like a hoarse whisper. “This…” He finally looks up at the stars and finds Venus. “This is all I could ask for.”
“Don’t lie to me, Miller.” There’s the playful tone he likes so much. “I’ve got your number.”
“I mean it.” He folds his hands over his stomach. “It’s peaceful out here. Reminds me of home.”
“Do you think your mom would've liked it here?” you ask. 
“She would,” says Joel. 
You sniffle. “Yeah, mine, too.”
Around him, the crickets chirp and the air is stagnant. It feels like a snapshot of time. Except that you're here, next to him, the warmth of your body rolling in waves over his nerves like a hundred cresting waves. 
“Boys never liked me.”
Joel can't help but look at you in disbelief.
“I’m telling you the truth.” You shrug. “When I had my first crush on a boy, I avoided him like the plague, because I didn’t want to be rejected. Then I set him up with my best friend.”
Joel blinks. You laugh like you can feel his amusement. “You don't have to tell me how stupid it was. I know. I just figured, if I didn’t go for it, I’d never get hurt.”
“And what happened every time after that?” asks Joel. 
“I was always too busy. I never let myself go to parties because there was always an excuse. Work, school, Mom. I had more important things to do, bigger things to worry about. Last time I went on a date, Mom convinced me to reschedule our usual hospital visit so I could go out with him. Halfway through, the hospital called me.” Your breath shudders out of you. “By the time I got there, she was mostly gone. I lost my last moments with her.”
Joel’s heart surges forward, lurching out of his chest. His hand finds a stray wisp of hair and tucks it behind your ear. It isn't in your eyes or blocking his view; he just wants to. He wants to be the one who's right here when you’re sad. He wants you to never feel like you have to put your own life in restraints—never again. “That was not your fault.”
“He was a total dud, too.” You laugh mirthlessly. “They’ve all been duds.”
And me? he wants to ask. If I put my hand here and I put my mouth there, would you deny me? Would you shove me away? Or would you let me treat you the way you deserve? 
He wants to be your guiding hand. He’ll give you what you need. He’ll be as firm as you want and he’ll be gentle all the other times. He’ll show you just how wanted you are. 
“You’ll find better,” he says instead. “Can’t promise they won't be fielded beforehand.”
You laugh, facing him again. “Is that so, Miller? You gonna background check them all?”
Fuck yes, I will. Joel shrugs, all pouty and grumpy again, and you just want to grace those patches of grey in his beard. 
Yes, it will cross a line. Yes, it will ache so beautifully to touch him the way you want. You don't know how to reconcile these two parts of you: the part that's here to rebuild a life, and the part that wants to simply forget how difficult that life can be and drown yourself in the sweet tang of being alone with him. 
“Oh! I forgot.” You bolt upright, scrambling off the truck bed so fast it gives Joel whiplash. You reach into the passenger’s side and pull out your bag. “I stole this from the kitchen. Thought you might be hungry after one cup of coffee.”
You produce a styrofoam container with a piece of chocolate cake inside. “I may have also asked Dad what kind of cake I should bake for your birthday.” You bite your bottom lip. “This’ll have to tide us over until the real thing.”
He doesn't know how to cope with the amount of affection surging up his throat, overfilling his bloodstream. Your mouth is so fucking close. How would it taste? Your dark, sexy perfume smells so good, your hair so soft and a little wind blown from the car ride. You would be so perfect, so beautiful, so soft to touch. 
You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He’s pine and sawdust and a little bit of mint. He’s manly, dark and a bit of grey, strong and broad. Capable. “You don't have to eat it,” you tell him, “but I brought two forks, just in case.”
His chest squeezes. “C’mon up here, baby.”
You climb back up onto the truck bed and situate yourself next to him, both of you sitting up against the back window. You hold the container as you both dig in, the cake a little too soft but still good. Still chocolate. And he's sharing it with you. 
It’s not even his birthday yet. 
“How’s that Daily Texan gig workin’ out for you?” he asks. 
Your eyes light up. He remembered? “I’ve been put in charge of the Student Wellness section. I don't know why the fuck they thought that was a good idea.”
“Gives you an opportunity to learn how to relax.”
You roll your eyes fondly. “Any suggestions?”
“This is a good start,” offers Joel. “Stargazing.”
You pocket that idea. “At least I didn't get put on Sports.”
“Y’know I was on the swim team in high school?”
“With those shoulders? Doesn’t surprise me one bit.” You lift your eyebrows at him and all Joel can think is, I want you, I want you, I want you. 
When you both decide it's time to head back home, Joel eats the last bite of cake at your request and you slide back into the passenger’s seat. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. “That was a hell of a lot more fun than trying to sleep.”
“No, it wasn't,” you laugh. “But I’m glad I could help, even a little. You don't sleep well?”
Lately, baby, it's because of you. “Pretty much not at all.”
Your brows knit together, but Joel shakes his head. “Don’t need it much, anyway. I get by just fine.”
“You tell me that when you pass out at the wheel because the caffeine wore off. Do you want me to drive?”
“You still have to drive home on a shitty alternator,” he argues, a little more worried about the state of your car than he's letting on. “I’ll be okay. I’ve gone longer on less sleep.”
You chew on your lip, and Joel brushes the rough pad of his thumb over your chin. “I’ll be okay,” he repeats. “Just buckle up.”
“Okay,” you whisper. “Just don't kill us.”
I haven’t tasted you, he thinks. Dying won’t do just yet. 
~
In his dream, you’re wearing the black thong. Nothing else. 
You knock on his bedroom door and he lets you in. He doesn't know why. He shouldn't. But he does. And you're there, your pretty tits sitting so perfectly for him, your hands demurely clasped behind your back, your eyes looking up at him expectantly. Wanting. Dark. 
He takes control. He pulls you against him, his chest against your back, tilting your head back, exploring your skin with his mouth, dipping his fingers into the flimsy waistband of that godforsaken thong and ripping it in two. 
In his dream, you're naked. Joel grabs handfuls of your ass while his hips batter you from behind, your slick, hot pussy sucking him in so deep that his whole body may disappear into yours. It's a dream. It doesn't make sense. But sense knocks at his ribs and cracks them in order to escape. Your mewls and moans as you take his cock replace any inkling of conscience, consciousness. You melt into the mattress and forget your worries with every thrust. He makes you forget. 
That's it. That's it, baby. You can take me. My good girl. So fuckin’ good, baby, that’s—
He’s awake. Joel grunts, shucking away his covers. His cock is tenting his boxers, which he scrambles to get off as he burns from the inside out. His cock slaps against his stomach, precum pooling at his navel. He hisses, grasping his shaft at the base, his hips bucking helplessly into his hand. His head tips back against the pillows as he begins to jerk himself off to the image of you underneath him. Moaning. Whining. Joel, Joel, yes, oh, my—
“Fuck.” He grits his teeth, spitting into his hand and twisting his hand around the head of his cock. Your mouth parts around the tip and your tongue darts out to lap up the precum on his slit, and he grunts your name. It’s fucking filthy. He’s filthy. “Goddamn—”
Holding you, cradling your head, watching your mouth take him, the tip prodding your throat. Your watery eyes, your needy, leaking pussy, your knees folded so primly under you. As if his cock isn’t down your fucking throat. “Jesus,” he growls, jerking faster, the pressure building in his ears and his throat and his stomach, his balls pulling up—
His cum spills over his hand and stomach as he groans your name, long and loud, to the empty room. He pants, staring up at the ceiling. Running his clean hand over his face, he shakes his head. Mike would kill him if he knew. And he’d fucking deserve it. 
Because Joel knows that he doesn't just need any warm body. He doesn't need to forget you by finding someone else. It isn't just a vague need. 
It is you. 
~
“Is this seat taken?”
Your head jerks up so fast your neck twinges. There's a guy looking at you with a sheepish smile, gesturing to the seat on your left. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn't mean to… interrupt.”
“No! No, I’m sorry. Please, feel free.” 
He slides into the seat and pulls out his books. “I’m Steve, by the way.”
You're a little surprised to see him offer his hand to you. People your age still shake hands with one another? Giving him a smile, you introduce yourself. “You just had to catch me while I was lost in thought. I’m usually a lot more suave.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” says Steve. He has a charming smile; he's about your age, with dark hair and a lean figure, and a pair of kind blue eyes. “Have you started studying for the midterm?”
You snort. “Please. If I think about it for one second, I’ll be breaking all the rules of my article.”
Steve laughs, assessing you with a brief once-over. “I recognise your name. You edit for the paper, right?”
“Guilty.”
“Only if it were bad. I liked your last piece.” He places his hand over his heart. “Your dad taught you this?”
You smile. He actually read your latest article. “He did,” you say brightly. “I was freaking out over the move here, and he told me how to ground myself.”
Steve grins. “Well, it's good to know the paper has someone of quality writing for them.”
You roll your eyes. “Smooth.”
“I know. Practised it over the last couple minutes in my head.” Steve taps his pen on his notebook. His notes are neat and his handwriting is small. “Hey, if you ever decide to brave the hell that is the study guide, I’d be happy to do it with you. Okay, more like reluctant, but happy to do it with you.”
You really could use the study buddy. “Yeah. That would be great.”
“Thank God,” sighs Steve. “I thought I’d have to beg.”
“Oh, you still can, if you want.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says with a laugh, turning to face the front of the room as the professor walks in. Wordlessly, he writes down a phone number on the corner of his page and rips it out, sliding it over to you. You stuff the scrap of paper in your bag. 
Neither Joel nor your father show up at the bar tonight. They both have to get up early to drive across town for the job, but work is a little less alive without the company. Rob still makes sure to walk you to your car when your shift ends at eleven, and it only takes three turns of the key for the engine to start. 
The problem is that halfway through the journey home, a torrential downpour starts slicing rain in a diagonal path to your windshield, and your engine sputters until the lights go out. “Fuck!” you cry out, turning the key again and again without luck. Your car is dead. 
You climb out of the driver’s seat and wave your apology to the people behind you as you run to the bumper and begin to push in the direction of the road’s shoulder. “Come on,” you beg, shoving and digging your heels into the ground. 
Several cars behind you begin to honk their horns, and it only makes your eyes fill with tears. The rain lashes you in the face and soaks your hair through to your scalp, your clothes drenched in freezing-cold water. You don't even have a jacket to stay warm. 
“Come on!”
The car gives when you manage to get the front right wheel on the shoulder. Not a single person gets out to help you push the rest of the way, instead deciding to veer their cars around you once there's enough room. Still, they don't care enough not to splash you in the deepening puddles as they race by. 
“Don’t worry about me,” you scream, your voice getting lost in the pounding of rain on the ground. 
Shit, shit, shit. You're too far away from home to walk the rest of the way, and there isn't a payphone in sight. So, you wrestle your keys from the car out of spite, gather your bag with your work uniform, and make a decision. 
~
He’s making dinner when there’s a knock on his front door. He cleans his hands of raw chicken and heads toward the door. It’s pouring rain; what the hell kind of solicitor wants his business this badly? 
The door swings open, and you're standing on Joel’s porch, dripping wet from your head to toes, clutching your bag close to your chest. “H—hi.”
The look in your eye is so resigned, so sad, that he can't for a second think about how it looks for you to show up at his home so late at night. “Jesus,” he says. “What the fuck happened?”
“My car br—broke down. Dad isn’t h—home, and I had to wa—walk.” Your entire body is racked with relentless shivers as you hug yourself. “Do you m—mind if I use your dryer?” 
Joel’s heart cleaves in two at the sight of your soaked-through jeans, your drenched sweatshirt, and his blood simmers at the thought of you having to walk home without anyone to keep you safe. 
“C’mere, baby,” he says, brows pinching as he ushers you inside and envelops you in his arms. Your whole body sags into him, and he doesn't give a shit that rainwater is seeping through his clothes. You’re cold and he’s warm, and you can relax. Fuck, just being held like this makes you sniffle, forgetting the cold, damp walk and the pile of work you haven't done and the money you don't have in favour of imprinting the feeling of his hard chest and his soft belly pressed against you. 
“Joel…”
Your weak, soft voice rattles in his brain and tastes like honey on his tongue. He pulls away to cup your face in his hands, moving your damp hair from your face. “You’ll catch a cold. “Let’s get you out of those clothes, okay?”
You nod, slipping off your shoes and letting him lead you to his bedroom. “Take whatever you want,” he tells you, gesturing toward his closet where all his shirts are hanging up. “Pants are in the drawer there. You want coffee? I’m just making dinner.”
Despite yourself, a little laugh slips out. “You’re making d—dinner at mid—midnight.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I was waitin’ for you.” His hands caress your arms, up and down, up and down, watching the tension in your shoulders ebb away. “I’ll let you shower.”
“I d—don't want to stay,” you tell him. “I mean, I do, b—but it’s s—so late.”
He shakes his head, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. “Shhh, baby. You've never been a bother and that hasn't changed now.”
“Joel.” He turns at the doorway to face you again. “Thank you.”
He leaves without another word because he doesn't trust himself not to rush back inside and gather you up in his arms once more. You're in his goddamn bedroom. You're feet away from the bed where he jerked off to a dream of you last night. And you can never know. You will never know—no matter how many lines he crosses. 
After your shower, you pick out a too-big sweatshirt emblazoned with his company logo and a pair of grey sweatpants. Your cheeks feel warm knowing that he's worn these, maybe even slept inside them, and you dry your hair in a towel. You feel clean, less miserable, and bone-tired, but you still hesitate before you turn the knob and leave Joel’s bedroom. 
He’s in the kitchen—you can smell chicken, steamed broccoli, maybe cheese?—and your mouth waters. You didn't know you were hungry until now. Joel’s gaze finds you when he hears footsteps. 
You. Wearing his clothes. Dressed in his sweatpants. You even fucking smell like him, your hair cleaned with his shampoo and your body washed with his soap. He may keel over. Blood rushes to his cock, filling it out in his own sweatpants, and if you notice, you don't say a word. 
Settling into the chair at the little, circular dining table, you meet his eyes across the way. “This looks good, Joel. Thank you.”
“Where’s your car?” he asks, his voice hoarse. 
“On the shoulder of a road somewhere,” you reply. “Your neighbourhood was closest, and there aren't exactly many payphones in the suburbs. I’ll call a tow truck in the morning.”
“You pushed your own car to the side of the road?” Joel’s angry instincts are prickling again, his ears burning at the thought of you alone in the dark and the rain, helpless to get anywhere but to him. “Did someone help you?”
Your eyes find a fascinating spot on the table, your silence giving him all the answers he needs. Your clothes were even flecked with mud when you came to him, meaning you'd been splashed by passing cars. Joel’s jaw ticks, his fingers flexing into fists. 
He couldn't fix this. He couldn't be there when you needed help. He couldn't even know about it until the damage was already done. “Fuck, baby.”
“It’s okay.” You meet his eyes again, giving him a sad smile. “I’m all right.”
He sighs harshly through his nose. “Come here.” 
You follow orders beautifully, closing the distance between you and him. Slowly, so slowly, you bracket his thighs with yours and lower yourself onto his lap, your arms winding around his neck. 
He knows you can feel the insistent press of his cock against your thigh. He knows the telltale widening of your pupils, the darkness in your eyes—the thrilling catch of your breath when he finally lifts his hand to the small of your back, fitting you against him. 
There is no going back from a thing like this. 
“You're upset,” he says into the thinning air. It feels like a slight. “You don't want me. Not like this.”
You don't reply. You just begin to move. 
“Jesus.” His hands find your hips on instinct, squeezing hard as if he can get you to stop. “Shit. What are you—”
“I want you,” you whisper as your hips gyrate slowly over his stiff cock. You never break eye contact. “I want all of you.”
Your forehead drops to his, your noses brushing as he keeps pulling you closer, guiding your hips over him, betraying the words that leave his mouth. The heat between your thighs warms his body, your cunt dragging over his length and your mouth dropping open at the sparks of pleasure against your clit. 
Joel grits his teeth, helping you move. “Fuck. Fuckin’ hell, baby.” His cock twitches, leaning precum into his boxers. “That’s it. Take what you want. Take what you need, baby girl.” 
He will drink your soft moans down and guide your whimpering voice into his mouth. But you need to come first. You need to take, so he can give. “So fuckin’ good,” he grunts. 
“Joel.” It’s a mewl, quiet and pitched high. 
He thinks about the truck bed, the stars, the times he wanted and wanted but never took. But it's never been about him. This is you, baring yourself for a man who will hold you and admire you and expect nothing in return. He doesn't. He wants you to know it. 
This is about you. He can be selfish later. 
He can feel that you're close, your hips stuttering and your breath catching on every intake. “I know. I’ve got you. Just keep goin’.”
Maybe it's his voice. Maybe it's the consistent pressure against your clit. Maybe it's the need to be warm and safe and pliable in his arms. You come, grasping the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his messy hair as your other hand clutches his shoulder. But he's got you. He won't let you fall. 
“That’s it, sweetheart.” He holds you close as you shiver, the cold pulsing out of your body and warmth settling deep inside. Your brain is a bit fuzzy, your eyes a little unfocused. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you away so he can look at you from a better angle. The sounds and sights of your orgasm will linger on the ceiling of his brain like a light that's always on. 
You just came on his lap. You've never even kissed him, and the mere feel of his body ground you into a fine golden powder. “I meant it,” you tell him, combing his tousled hair away from his eyes. “I want all of you.”
“You’ve got me,” he says, and he means it. You’ve both tangled a hundred lines into one another; the mess you've both made is unrecognisable. A Gordian knot. But this is real, and it's clear. This is true and present and whatever happens next is inconsequential compared to the peace he feels when he has his hands on your body. 
There are no muddied waters when he looks into your eyes. 
“When's the last time you ate?” he asks. 
An answering rumble in your stomach makes him chuckle. You giggle, still somewhat high from your orgasm. “Today. Yesterday. What time is it?”
He squeezes your thighs and gestures with his chin toward your side of the table. “Eat.”
“But…” Your eyes drop to the space between you, where his cock visibly strains against his sweatpants. You take your lip between your teeth. “You're hard.”
“Yeah, I am. You’re a sexy fuckin’ woman who just used me to get off.” His thumb traces your bottom lip. “I’m old, baby. I can be patient.”
You pout, but he pats your ass and lifts you off him. Your legs tremble as you lower onto your chair. It’s a plain dinner, and it’s not steaming hot anymore, but at least he can cook. And it tastes so much better after an orgasm. After the hellish night you've had. Joel watches you while you eat, and you watch him, too. 
“I’ll drive you home,” he says, breaking the silence. “And I’ll call the tower in the morning.” You swallow a piece of broccoli. Joel points his fork at you. “And don’t argue.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Yeah, you were.” He’s right. “You’ve got enough to worry about.”
You look at him awhile. His cheeks feel warm under your scrutiny, the way you openly admire his face, his body, his hands. “I think you're my hero, Joel Miller.”
Jesus, if that doesn’t make his chest puff up a bit. “That so?”
You take a sip of his lukewarm coffee. “Will you let me show you?”
Under the table, your foot trails up his ankle. Joel breathes in hard. As much as he wants to bend you over the fucking table and pound you senseless, you need to rest. And he needs to make sure you get safely home, where your father will never hold suspicion of the things Joel has done to his daughter. He’ll fashion a story that's close to the truth. He gave you his clothes and drove you home, and he did not let you grind on his cock until you came on top of him. 
“I won't tell him,” you say softly. “I won’t.”
Joel senses your unease, your hesitation. “I know, baby. I trust you.”
The smile creeps up your face and fills his ribcage with warm light until it's seeping through the bones. “I know what I’m going to give you for your birthday.”
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topguncortez · 2 years
Note
I NEED THE ANGST PREGNANCY PLOT SO HERE WE GO
"i wouldn’t blame you if you walked away, you know. you never signed up for a baby" with rooster
pairing: teenage Bradley Bradshaw x teenage Mitchell!Female (they are both 18) word count: 2.k warnings: teen pregnancy, mentions of vomiting, pregnancy scares, Bradley is lowkey a hoe A/N: yes this was supposed to be a blurb but I once again got carried away soooo here we is:) prompts list!
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Bradley had just turned 18, and it was the worst year of his life. Most people when they turn 18 look forward to the freedoms that come along with it. You're finally an adult, you're can be on your own, you can buy cigarettes, you can join the military. However, not long after Bradley Bradshaw's 18th birthday, he was burying his mom and losing the man that he claimed to be his second father.
Bradley had never felt more alone in his life as he sat at a party one night. On top of losing his mother and uncle, his girlfriend had also cheated on him. He sat on the couch in some random high schoolers house during a party, and watched as his ex made out with his best friend. Bradley didn't think his life could get any worse.
"You look like shit, Bradshaw," Bradley looked over his shoulder seeing her lean over the back of the couch. Y/N Mitchell, Bradley's best friend. He smiled at her and shook his head.
"Tough week," Bradley said, and took a sip from his drink, "Where have you been?" Y/N shrugged and climbed over the back of the couch, plopping down next to him.
"Visiting my mom down south," Y/N's mom had disappeared on her when she was younger. They slowly started patching up their relationship when her father got sent overseas, again, "She sends her condolences."
Bradley grumbled a 'thanks'. He didn't like talking about his mother, the wounds of losing her was still fresh. Y/N gave him a sad smile, and rubbed his arm.
"Sorry about Monica too," Y/N nodded her head towards the girl who looked like she was about to swallow her boyfriend's face, "Never liked her."
"Well sorry about Greg," Bradley said, and nodded towards the same area, "He looks happy with her. I guess that's a plus."
"Look at us, Bradshaw and Mitchell, striking out in the love department. . . yet again."
"Sounds like our dads," Bradley joked and Y/N giggled next to him.
As much as he hated Pete Mitchell, he could never hate Y/N. She was his best friend, the one person he could turn to when he needed a shoulder to cry on. They had grown up together, their mothers being friends and their fathers being a flying pair. When her mother ditched her for some younger man, Carole taught Y/N all she needed to know, and helped raise her, and Maverick did the same for Bradley.
When the feelings for Y/N started, Bradley wasn't sure. Could've been after the last time Greg cheated on her, and she showed up on his doorstep in tears. Bradley hated how much Greg hurt her and how she would go back to him. He had yelled at her for the first time in his life and told her how dumb she was for going back to Greg over and over. Bradley had told her he loved her, and as soon as those words had slipped out of his mouth, he knew it was more than just platonically.
"Wanna play a game?" Y/N suggested.
"Sure," Bradley said, stretching out his limbs.
"Okay, it's simple," Y/N smirked, and explained the game.
About an hour later, Bradley Bradshaw and Y/N Mitchell were walking drunkenly back to her house. They had to lean against each other to keep themselves up, and were singing "You Lost that Loving Feeling" as loud as they possibly could. They stopped in front of her house, and Y/N sighed.
"He's gone still?" Bradley asked.
"He's always gone," Y/N said, "Wanna come in? He quit checking the liquor cabinet when I turned 16."
Bradley laughed and nodded, following her inside the small blue house. Pictures of Pete, Y/N and her mother lined the walls of the house. Bradley wasn't shocked that Pete hadn't taken the pictures down, the old man loved to live in the past. Bradley's brown eyes landed on the picture of himself, his mother and his father from the days before Goose's death in Miramar. Bradley doesn't even remember much about that day, just that two officers had shown up to the house, and his mother let out a scream.
"Hey," Y/N said, and walked up next to Bradley, who was frozen in front of the fireplace, looking at the mantle. Her eyes looked at the same picture and she frowned, "What's on your mind?"
"A lot," Bradley sniffled and looked at her, "I wonder if I'll ever find a love like my mother and father."
"Oh I think you will," She placed her hands on his shoulder, and on instinct Bradley wrapped an arm around her waist, "You look just like your father, and have your mother's mannerisms, you'll find someone, and they'd be stupid to do what Monica did to you."
"You'll find someone too, ya know," Bradley said and Y/N chuckled.
"I'm like my dad, I can't be tied down. I got the need for speed."
"I know you do," Bradley said, looking into her eyes. There was something about that look, and maybe it was the help of the alcohol in their systems, but they both leaned in slowly. Bradley let out a breath as he placed a hand on her cheek, and rubbed the soft skin, before connecting their lips.
It was just a simple kiss, but that kiss had just changed everything. Y/N pulled back and looked at Bradley, and she nodded, letting him know that it was okay. Bradley shifted her in his arms, so he could wrap his arms around her. Y/N's hands went to cradle Bradley's face, getting lost in his hair as she pulled on it slightly. The kiss was hot, and less reserved than the very first one. Bradley pulled at her body, bringing her in as close as he could get her.
"Jump," He said against her lips, tapping at her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and Bradley moved instinctually down the hall towards her room. He laid her down on the bed, and leaned back, grabbing the hem of his shirt and taking it off. He froze, looking at the picture of a 13-year old Y/N and her parents.
Y/N looked up at Bradley and then at the picture. She flipped the picture down and Bradley chuckled.
"You've always been trouble," He said, and leaned back to kiss her.
"Don't act like you don't like it."
--- --- ---
That night had been weeks ago. The night that Y/N and Bradley had crossed that boundary of being just friends. They had hardly even talked to each other, in fact, Bradley had left in the morning while Y/N was still sleeping. He didn’t regret it, neither one did, they just weren’t sure what it exactly meant, or what to do next. Their lives were going to take a very different path, Bradley was going to UVA, then flight school and Y/N was going to go to art school in California. 
But now, as she sat in her bathroom, her head in her hands and a positive pregnancy test on the ground, she saw everything crashing down around her. 
How they had been so careless to forget a condom, she didn’t know. Y/N was on birth control, something her mother had encouraged her to get on when she started dating Greg, but recently switched it. She didn’t even stop to think that there was a possibility that she could get pregnant. Leaning her head against the wall, she wondered what Carole would do if she was in her place. 
Carole wouldn’t be in this situation, dumbass, cause she’s smarter than you, Y/N thought to herself, and pushed the negative thoughts out of her mind. Carole would also tell the father as soon as it happened, like you should. 
Y/N grabbed her phone from the counter, and went to her contacts. She stared down at her three emergency contacts, one was Carole, obviously, another was her dad and the last one was Bradley. She sighed, and pressed Bradley’s contact, pulling up his text messages. 
Y/N: 9-1-1 
Bradley: I’m on my way. What do you need? 
Y/N: just you, please. 
Y/N paced the floor of her living room as she waited for Bradley to arrive. She halted as she heard the screeching of his bronco into the driveway, and watched as he ran up the walkway and then barged into the house, out of breath. 
“You’re whole? You said 9-1-1, I expected blood and guts,” Bradley said, still heaving for air. 
There were guts, I threw them all up, She thought, “No, not that kind of 9-1-1.” 
“Well, what’s the emergency?” Bradley asked her. 
Y/N opened and closed her mouth several times trying to find the right words. The second Bradley saw her bottom lip quiver, he was pulling her in for a tight hug. She let out a sob as he held her close, cradling the back of her head, something his mother used to do when he would cry from the nightmares about his father. Bradley rubbed her back with his other hand, and shushed her with sweet nothings in her ear. 
“Breathe baby, or you’ll pass out,” Bradley said. The pet name fell so naturally from his lips, he was used to people calling her Baby, either himself or his mother, or Maverick, “Wanna sit down?” Y/N nodded her head, and Bradley pulled back, walking her over to the couch. Y/N sat down with a sigh, and Bradley next to her. He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, “Tell me what’s wrong, baby.” 
“Bradley I. . . I'm pregnant.” 
Bradley felt his heart stop beating and fall straight to his stomach. He could remember all the times Carole would tell him to be safe about sex. He thought at the time it was hella embarrassing when he’d walk into his bathroom and see a box of condoms underneath his sink. He had unprotected sex before, and pregnancy scares before, but the girls always started their period that very next day or even the same day. But he knew from Y/N’s body language and the look on her face, this wasn’t just a scare. 
“I- wow-” 
“Listen Bradley, I wouldn't blame you if you walked away, you know. you never signed up for a baby,” Y/N spoke and Bradley was taken aback by her words, “You weren’t wanting this after some hookup, and I’m giving you an out-” 
“An out? What the hell are you saying right now?” Bradley felt offended by her words. 
“You want to be a pilot,” Y/N said, “You have been non stop talking about it since you were four and you dressed up as your dad for Halloween. Your life has been geared towards that, not being a dad at 18-” 
“Things can change,” Bradley said, “My plan was always to go to the academy like my dad but look where I am. . . headed to fucking University of Virginia,” Y/N laughed and shook her head. Bradley grabbed her face gently, and made her look at him, “This is shocking, and not going to lie, a bit fucking terrifying, but I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever. It would take a missile in the sky to take me away from you.” 
“Don’t say that, oh god, now you got me all nervous and-” 
Bradley cut her rambling off with a kiss on her lips, “I’m sorry, Baby. But I was just tryna let you know. . . I’m here for the long hall. I’ll figure something out about school. If I have to take a year off to be with you, then I will.” 
“You mean it? You’re not gonna run?” He could see the fear in her eyes. Her mother had run on her when things got hard and Bradley had watched it first hand tear her apart. He was not about to let that happen to her or their child. 
“No, Baby, I’m not gonna run,” Bradley hugged her tightly and Y/N sighed in relief. 
“Thank god, telling you is over. I was about ready to vomit from the nerves.” Y/N said. 
“Yeah, telling me wasn’t even the hard part. . . we have to tell your dad.”
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sturniclos · 1 month
Text
Eternal sunshine has me so fucked upppp rn like thinking ab Luke Castellan and reader that never got their happy ending together.
Pairing: Luke Castellan x reader
Notes/warnings: Angst, eternal sunshine is sooo good go listen, spoilers for the books, looks are described as Charlie Bushnell's Luke Castellan, not really happy ending LMFAOOO, set before and after tlt and tlo, kind of really rushed I was typing this up as I was listening to the album again. unediteddd
track vi. Supernatural
don't want nobody else around me. just need you right here you're like the only thing that I see. it's crystal clear and I I want you to come claim it, I do
When you first arrived at Camp Half-Blood, you hadn’t talked to anyone for a week.
Not intentionally, of course. You did say hi and bye to people in passing, but for some reason you couldn’t muster up the courage to strike a conversation and make some friends. You felt so out of place, and the anxiety of being in such a new place without for family didn’t make it any better.
It didn’t deter 14 year old Luke, who was determined to make sure you felt like you had a place at camp, like many others had for him. He was a little awkward, still not yet realizing the desire to make you happy was a crush.
“No one here’s going to bite, but I’d stay away from the Ares cabin.” Luke lightly jokes, nudging your shoulder as you smile shyly and nod.
“I think I just miss my mom. I’m not used to really being separated from her.” Your eyes threaten to water, knowing you probably wouldn’t be able to see her in order to keep her safe.
Luke’s lip pull into a thin frown, scooting in to rub his hand on your shoulder. His eyes flicker around awkwardly, unable to figure out what to say when you look so pretty, hair flowing while the scent of pine and vanilla fills his senses. “I miss my mom too,” he starts, licking his dry lips as he figured out what to say. “You’re not in this alone, though. We all go through the same things and are all here to support each other…” he trails off, leaning down to look at your face as you lift your head. “…if they let us.”
You smile and look back out to the lake, hiding your blush with your hair as you avoid eye contact, uttering only a small “Thank you.” In response.
Luke doesn’t need anything else out of you, he only smiles triumphantly as he looks out as well, pink dusting his cheeks as he sits in comfortable silence with you.
After a couple weeks of clinging around you, he finally got you to warm up. Not only to him, but to everyone at camp. It wasn’t long until you were happily chatting with other campers, older and younger- beaming at everyone like the sun.
You still find yourself attaching to Luke, opting to spar and continue your never-ending banter. Luke found himself doing the same, ditching cabin checks with Chris to swim with you in the lake, (which he would make up for later by sneaking him an extra dessert).
When you were tasked to start training younger campers, you were 16 and Luke was 17, both of you on your way to become Camp counselors for the year-rounders.
Luke always looks to pick you as an example while training, cheekily smiling as you both demonstrate a hand-to-hand match, his breath hitching at how gracefully you move as you fight. Fluid, calm, quick, you deal blow after blow while effortlessly blocking and evading attacks, maneuvering around him to knock him to the ground in one swift movement.
He knows he’s done for as he stares up at you, chest heaving up and down as you sit on his back, looking down at him teasingly. The sun shines on your face, a sheen of sweat covering your forehead as you bring out your hand to help him back up.
Your lips are moving, slightly chapped from your heavy breathing, but he’s not listening- absorbed in the way your lashes flutter and how your cheeks are a bit rosy from sparring.
“…Castellan?” You ask confused, waving your hand in front of his face as you try to bring him back to earth.
He blinks once, twice, before shaking his head, “Huh?”
“The kids… they’re waiting to be instructed, they paired up already.” You say, gesturing to the campers surrounding you.
He nods and chuckles awkwardly as he turns to everyone, instructing what to do and circles each pair, correcting stances and giving advice. You watch on the sideline, enjoying the way his brows furrow in focus and how his arms look when he slightly flexes (which you suspect he might’ve caught on to.), warmth blossoming across your chest as he happily high fives one of the younger boys.
Luke makes his way back to you, like he always does, picking out a stray pine needle from your hair as you put away your sword. You turn and help him unbuckle the shoulders of his armor, smiling at him as you switch to the other.
His heartbeat quickens as he continues to watch you fiddling with the buckle, fighting the consuming urge to kiss you, instead settling for placing his hand casually on your hip. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to his, your lips twitching into a small smile at the intimacy.
You take off his helmet, ruffling his hair and pulling sections out to fluff it out, “I don’t know if we can save the helmet hair today, Castellan.”
He laughs and pulls you in to roughly ruffle your hair, “Guess you’ll have to have it with me then.”
-
track xii. imperfect for you
and usually, I’m fucked up, anxious, too much but I’ll love you like you need me to imperfect for you
Luke wasn’t the same after his quest.
It was evident the second he came back, barely speaking to anyone, sparring with more aggression, and sleeping in more as the days go by. The stinging scar on his face was a painful, physical reminder of his failure- the pitiful gazes that would follow him humiliated him even further.
You, however, remained the same as ever. A constant in Luke’s life, always lingering and always ahead to encourage him to do better.
“I brought you food, they let me borrow the kitchen and make strawberry tarts.” You gently sit the plate on the small stool that Luke used as a bedside table, sitting next to his laying body, his back facing away from you.
He doesn’t respond, attempting to continue pretending to be asleep. You roll your eyes and lightly shake his shoulder, squeezing him softly as if to reassure him. With no response, you sigh and leave the cabin, uttering a small “love you.” As you close the door.
Anyone at camp could tell you how moody Luke was after he got back, flipping from being his normal self to being distant, snippy and irritable. It was hard to be able to go back to how it was before, not without the guilt of failing his quest hovering over him.
You still stand by his side, holding out your hand to delicately hold his as you tell him it’s okay, that you’re there for him.
He hasn’t been kind to you either- trying his best to push you away whether it’s through ignoring you or snapping at you like he does with the other campers. Despite his behavior, you stick by him, uttering words of reassurance as he cries into your shoulder, arms wrapped around your middle as you stand next to where he sits on the log. You play with his curls, massaging his scalp as you calm him down.
“I’m sorry I-" Luke stutters as he inhales several times, struggling to breathe through his tears, “I’m sorry I can’t figure myself out. I don’t mean to-.”
You take his chin and lift his head to face you, wiping away his tears as you look into his eyes. He takes in more sharp, jagged breaths, blinking away the rest of his tears as you rub your thumbs along his jaw.
“You don’t have to apologize. I’m not going anywhere, I have patience.” You giggle as you kiss him on the forehead. “You could never hurt me, Luke."
Luke hiccups as you ghost your hand over his scar, clutching your shirt as you rest your forehead against his.
track x. we can't be friends (wait for your love)
cause' I don't wanna argue, but I don't wanna bite my tongue, yeah I think I'd rather die
The gravel crunches behind you, but you don't turn to look to see who it is. There's only one other person that would know where you were.
Luke sits by you, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks at you avoid his gaze.
Your eyes are glued onto the lake, knowing that if you look at Luke you won't be able to stand your ground. You should've attacked him for even coming back to camp, for having the audacity to even show his face at your spot.
The moonlight illuminates the water beautifully, the reflections of light giving a starry glow. You turn to the right to see Luke, eyes as adoring as you've known them. His scar catches the light perfectly, softly highlighted on the tip of his cheekbone. Luke gives you a soft smile, eyes flickering down to your lips before looking at you again.
"I had to do it for us. Kronos has a vision- a golden age where we won't need to be controlled by our parents. We'd be free from our parents." Luke talks eagerly, leaning in and eyes begging for you to hear him out.
You shake your head firmly, getting up while waving your hands in the air in dismissal, "Kronos, doesn't care about us Luke, we shouldn't need some golden age to be happy."
"Helping Kronos gives us immunity- we'll be protected, safe, together."
"I don't want immunity or a new age, Luke. No one is going to be protected, especially not by Kronos."
Luke gets up to grab your wrist, turning you to face him, and you curse yourself for the familiar warmth in your chest spreading at the sight of his eyes. He knows there's no convincing you about the morals- he knew a loss when he saw one.
He pleads softly, voice breaking as he holds your waist. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Come with me, please." His fingers clutch at your shirt, reminding you of the night you comforted him after his quest.
You shake your head in response, tears spilling over as you wrap your arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest. Luke delicately wraps his arms around your waist, hands ghosting underneath your shirt so he could rub your back as you sniffled.
"You know I can't." You wipe your tears away as you look up at him one last time, sinking in every detail. The moles on his face, his kind eyes, the scar that reaches from his cheekbone to jaw, and his lips.
Luke kisses you deeply, grasping your hair and holding you close to him by your waist with the other hand. You cup his face in return, slowly moving your hands to his shoulders as you break the kiss.
He smiles at you again before grabbing his necklace in his pocket and putting it in your hand, closing your fingers over it before taking step back. Subconsciously, you lean towards him, still not ready to say goodbye.
Luke picks up Backbiter, swiftly slashing in front of him to open a portal. He looks back at you once before walking through, leaving you alone at the lake.
track i. intro (end of the world)
if the sun refused to shine baby, would I still be your lover? would you want me there? if the moon went dark tonight and if it all ended tomorow would I be the one on your mind?
Your piercing scream is all Luke can hear as he stabs himself.
There was truly no other option, and you knew that, but it didn't hurt any less as Luke drops to his knees with a fucking smile.
You run towards him, stumbling over your feet as you land next to him, grabbing him as you sobbed, cradling his face and stroking his hair.
Luke can't find himself to be sad, not when you still look so gorgeous, cheeks tearstained and covered in sweat and grime from battle. Even in death- you're the only thing that he sees.
"Don't cry, don't cry." Luke weakly smiles at you as he lifts up his hand to hold your face. "Just smile for me one more time sunshine."
You laugh at him, unsurprised at his ability to remain serious even in the most tragic of moments. Tears spill over and stream down to your neck, but you smile softly at him, nonetheless. Luke closes his eyes and takes his last breath in your arms, engulfed by your warmth.
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strawchaee · 4 months
Text
New girlfriend
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
warnings: angst, ex!bada, gf!chocol, fem!reader
words count: 1k
— BADA FOUND YOU IN THE CROWDED ROOM, her world paused, ears buzzing at the sight of you. The rest becomes a blur as she navigates through the lively partygoers, realizing you look exactly as you did the last time.
It took her five minutes to locate you at your mutual friend's party. Another five to mentally register that, indeed, it was you, leaving behind the champagne glass held by her agile but restless hands. Just as it took her five minutes to leave her. It took you five minutes to tell her you'd finished packing and moved on, leaving her stunned by the realization that she had destroyed the relationship.
Her sharp eyes follow you, firming at the gentle hand resting on your waist. Your agile hand on her shoulder, laughing at her antics.
Kayoung tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, takes a hair tie from your beloved purse, and offers to tie your hair. You gladly accept, boasting to your friends that you don't need to go to the salon – you have a personal stylist at home.
You feel eyes on your head, piercing into it, and you know exactly who it is. Seeing your enchanted features drop, Kayoung excuses both of you, gently guiding your smaller frame to a table. She follows your gaze, hands on your waist turning into clenched fists. She looks back at you, kisses your forehead, and, distracting you with appetizers, turns her attention back to the woman who broke your heart a year ago.
In her defense, now seeming utterly pathetic, Bada claims not to have seen your signals. When you made it obvious, she brushed it aside, saying she was tired. She took a sip of champagne, its bitter taste matching her bitter regrets for not changing the ending, as you desperately tried.
Unfortunately, you've seen these movies before. In friendships, in relationships. You don't know when it happened, when it started. Her eyes, once warm and comforting, turned cold and piercing, watching you whenever you tried anything remotely out of place. You never liked these endings, but you liked her. So, you did something you've never done for anyone else. Cutting through the thorny forest, ignoring the deep cuts opening old wounds. When Bada made her indifference clear, you didn't yield; instead, you pushed harder. She was slowly abandoning your city, which you had worked so hard to build, just for her, so you had nothing to do but condemn her to exile.
Bada can recall it vividly, the way you said it calmly, as if you were supposed to reassure her. You said it with such confidence, claiming you found happiness in her but would find happiness after her. You took your small bag and left with the door closing softly. She couldn't accept the ruthless fact, opened the door, and followed you into the impending storm.
She had never seen you so angry and sad before, your words striking her like lightning splitting the sky, tears falling onto hers as she couldn't distinguish between your teary eyes and the sky. She still remembers how you held back, eyes roaring with emotions she hadn't seen before. You looked at her through wet lashes, the distinct whisper of "you never saw the signs, so many signs," and your helpless "you're not listening."
Those same eyes add salt to her wounds now, your hand protectively placed on Kayoung's shoulders as if to say, "I found my happiness." Your eyes turn into stars, supernovas exploding at the sight of your now-girlfriend. Playfully toying with the silver band on your finger, both blushing at the continuous compliments.
With slouched shoulders, she places her empty glass on the table, eyes unconsciously landing on you again. You're about to turn and look at her, adding more fuel to the fire, but Kayoung's gentle push towards the dance floor interrupts you. In zeptoseconds, she immerses you in this laughter-filled mess, swaying and spinning you, effectively keeping anything that might permanently bother you at bay.
As a slow song plays, Kayoung rests her chin on your head, embracing you as if protecting you. She'd be lying if she said it didn't break her heart a little to see her old friend leave.
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