#how have i never done a moodboard for these two before??! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

palioom · 2 months

Text

starving

summary: joel comes back from patrol to find you have kept your promise to him.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; established relationship; overstimulation; orgasm denial/edging; dirty talk (joel has a filthy mouth); oral (f receiving); fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; some softness in the end; choking (a lil)

a/n: we're back after almost a month of hiatus, with a fic also written last summer! I hope you enjoy

thank you to my love @aurasjournal for the moodboard 🖤

IMPORTANT as tlou is made by a Zionist, as well as part 2 being based on the oppression of Palestine by Israel, I urge you to educate yourself in the light of the genocide happening in Palestine, specifically Gaza, right now. I cannot in good conscience post for Joel without bringing awareness to the horrific things that have been going on for 5 months.

banners by @/saradika-graphics

follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates

She had been wound up tight all week - always was when Joel was on patrol somewhere, made worse by the fact that the way back had been cut off by an unexpected, small avalanche.

She was worried about whether he was safe up there with Tommy. He would be. Joel was good at surviving things, she gathered that much from the little talking he had done with her.

He was an interesting man, only too quiet, never liked to talk about his past too much, so she had gathered everything of importance from Ellie or Tommy once they had become a little more serious.

Of course he’d be fine.

But if she had known he’d be gone for a little over a week instead of a day or two, she never would have promised him shit before he left.

“Don’t you dare touch yourself, darlin’.” He had said to her before he left, his rough, calloused palm on the softness of her cheek. “Wanna see her dripping and needy for me when I come back.”

Oh, dripping and needy she was. And it was even now, having fought the urge back ever since day three.

Day one was easy, two became just a little annoying, so used to having his thick length buried inside of her almost daily. Unless he had to patrol, which really was the only time he didn’t fuck her.

Because even when he was too exhausted, she would simply turn him onto his back and bounce on his dick until she was satisfied. Much to his amusement.

On day three, the throbbing between her legs became more than annoying, it bothered her, clouding her thinking. It was tempting to just sneak her hand into her underwear at home and get herself off with her fingers.

But she didn’t, only squeezing her thighs together to find some semblance of relief.

After that, things had only gone downhill.

So when he was finally back, safe and unharmed, it hadn’t taken long to go from sweet kisses by the entrance to demanding ones in their bedroom.

Ready to burst right here.

Joel had barely managed to take his thick winter coat off before she had dragged him there, his large hands now opening her flannel, then wandering beneath her undershirt to feel her warm skin.

A hiss left her, caught by his mouth as he pushed his tongue against hers, goosebumps breaking out on her skin at how icy he felt. Pressing himself against her as if to warm himself.

He was fucking freezing, his fingertips a little numb despite his thick gloves, and she was so damn warm, he just couldn’t help himself.

“Fuckin’ missed you, sweetheart.” Joel rasped, hands leaving her skin to open her jeans as quickly as he could, slowly regaining the feeling in his fingertips. “Been a good girl for me?”

She hummed affirmatively, stilling when he shoved his hand down the front of her jeans.

“Oh, baby, she’s desperate.”

His cold fingers pressed against her clit over the wet material of her panties, the change in temperature making her shiver. That was almost enough to make her cum, her hand coming to claw at his wrist.

“Not like this- Fuck me, Joel.” She whispered, desperate and impatient.

Surprised that he just pulled his hand back out, now hastily working to get her undressed, her own hands started working on his pants.

The air felt even colder when he had her naked, pushing her onto the bed, leaning over her to kiss and nip at her neck, then down to her chest.

His beard scratched over her skin, her hands in his grey hair, slightly wet from the snow.

Like a man starving, he sucked bruises into her skin, bit at her until small imprints showed. Showed she was his.

Joel knew he didn’t have to worry, there were no signs she would ever stray. Not with the way he fucked her, the way he took care of her.

She had it too damn good with him, he kept the creeps away and generally kept an eye out for her.

Still, he liked to show she was his, that no one else could have her, even if they tried.

His tongue found her pebbled nipple, sucking it into his mouth while his hand squeezed and pinched at her other breast, making her arch into his touch with a drawn out whine.

She was always so responsive to his touch.

So cold but so good, goosebumps on her skin, hands tugging at his hair.

“Stop teasing.” She whispered breathlessly, earning a harder bite from him, his dark eyes finding hers as he looked up at her. So hungry.

“Someone’s impatient.” His mouth wandered lower, despite his words, hands staying on her breasts when he found her wet heat.

Joel's tongue dipped into her and made her moan, just about ready to burst. Especially with the way his tongue flicked over her clit, sucking on it before letting the tip glide over it again.

Joel noticed how quickly her legs started shaking, her fingers curling into his hair tightly, his own digging into her thighs as he spread her open. Feeling her muscles spasm below her skin as he kept licking at her, eating her out like she was his last meal.

It happened way too fast, throwing her head back as the coil inside her tightened and snapped so suddenly, her body shaking as her orgasm rushed through her unexpectedly.

“Oh fuck- Joel-” She moaned, her legs fighting against his broad hands but he kept her spread open, working her through it.

Too worked up from him having been gone that she just couldn’t last any longer, feeling a little self conscious about just how quickly he had pulled her apart already.

“Seriously, sweetheart?” Joel asked when he lifted his head, looking up at her from where he kneeled between her open thighs. His beard was wet with her, a ravenous expression on his face. “That was way too damn short, darlin’.”

His words burned on her skin, unable to look him in the eyes so she stared at the ceiling instead.

That really was embarrassingly fast, her fingers carding through his silvery hair.

“Sorry, Joel. I’ve been so damn horny all week and-”

He shushed her, pressing his lips to the inside of her thigh. His beard scratching her, making her shiver.

“Let’s go a little longer, I’m not done with you yet.” His chuckle was deep, tongue finding her middle again with a hum.

She whined, still a little sensitive as he worked his tongue over her clit repeatedly, back arching and her fingers curling back into his locks.

The heat came back immediately, settling in her abdomen, his tongue now moving down to find her soaking entrance, pushing inside.

Feeling her pulse around him when he fucked into her, his nose bumping against her clit in time with his movements, making her whine.

“Right there, Joel, yes!” She breathed, already feeling another orgasm approaching rapidly. “I’m close already, fuck. You feel good.”

Pushing her over a second time, he made her cry out, her legs shaking as he once again worked her through it.

But he didn’t stop.

Joel just kept going, not giving her time to come down from her high, the buzz steadily moving through her body.

It was then that she realized he really was far from done with her, looking down at him with furrowed brows, while the glint in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

“Joel-” She whined, feeling another rush coming, trying to scramble away from him somehow but he had an iron grip on her thighs.

He hummed against her, shaking his head No. She could swear he was grinning, doubling down on his efforts, tearing another orgasm from her.

The pleasure bordered on pain at this point, every nerve feeling like it was on fire as she shook, his tongue alternating between her clit and her pulsing hole.

God, he could be such an asshole, going on until tears were in her eyes, right on the brink of the fourth one.

Leaning back and licking his lips while he looked at her, squirming and shaking. A gasp left her when he worked two of his thick fingers into her, her legs clamping shut around his arm as he began to pump them in and out of her.

“Told you I’m not done with you yet, darlin’.” He rasped, using his other hand to open her legs again, teeth sinking into the soft skin before his tongue soothed over the marks. “She’s hungry still, must’ve been starving the whole time.”

Her hands fisted the sheets, head rolling from side to side as he built her up, scissoring his fingers before pushing into that soft spot inside of her again.

Then he let her fall, pulling his fingers out, laughing at the long whine that left her, the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

Like she didn’t know what she wanted, to cum again or to be left alone.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry.” Joel chuckled, like he was mocking her. Somehow she liked it, the pulsing between her legs becoming worse, feeling empty. “Thought I’d give your little pussy some lovin’, she must have been so neglected.”

She lifted her head, trying to glare daggers at him but failing when his fingers rubbed over her clit, once again building her up just short of the peak, then removing them, his hand finding her breast, groping and squeezing at it.

What wonderful sounds she made, first feeling too much and now too little.

Maybe he should leave for extended periods more often, she clearly enjoyed the way he treated her right now, making up for time lost but also depriving her of what she really wanted.

“You’re mean.” She gasped, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

She looked so fucked out already, yet he hadn’t even gotten his fill.

“I can be mean, sweetheart.” Joel said, letting go of her again and standing up, just watching how she writhed, deprived of his rough palms. “Wouldn’t like me when I am.”

“Joel, please!” She cried, one of her hands wandering over her stomach and to her aching pussy. But Joel was quicker, grabbing her wrist tightly.

“Don’t worry, baby, gonna get what you want when you’re fucking patient.” He said, letting go of her, moving to take off his pants. “Spent a whole week without me, can wait a couple minutes longer, can’t you?”

She watched him, growing frustrated at just how slowly he seemed to take off his jeans, then his underwear.

Then, finally, his hard cock was springing free, head glistening with precum.

Hovering over her, he nestled in between her legs.

She squirmed more, her hands running over his arms, feeling his muscles flex beneath the skin, coming up to cup his cheeks.

“So, so needy.” He chuckled, taking himself in hand, hitting her sensitive clit with the fat head of his cock a few times. The action made her whimper, fingers curling into his arms.

Shooting electricity through her, her whole body taut, just needing him to push inside of her.

“Joel, can you fucking move?”

The corner of his lips curled slightly upwards, finding her entrance before pushing inside with one fluid motion, knocking the air out of her at the sudden intrusion.

His lips attached to her neck with a groan, feeling how tight she was gripping him. Like she wanted to strangle his dick, always so damn tight.

“Don’t get mouthy with me, sweetheart.” Joel said, hooking her leg over his hips, squeezing the soft flesh.

“‘M not.” She gasped, feeling so full of him, ready to burst again.

Slowly he began to move, shallow at first before thrusting deeper.

Pushing her up higher on the bed with each thrust, making her cry out and hold onto him, her head too dizzy and hazy as he fucked into her, letting out the week’s frustrations.

All that escaped her were incoherent ramblings, slurred whimpers and moans as she threw her head back, exposing more of her neck to him, his lips still dancing over the skin.

“Shut up pretty fast with some cock in you, sweet darlin’.” He chuckled, voice strained and clearly losing himself slowly. Her wet pussy and her cockdrunk face were too much even for him after he’d been away from her that long.

He’d gone without it for longer, but now that he could fuck her every night, even just a day had seemed like an awfully long time.

“Joel-” She mewled, voice high-pitched and so, so desperate.

“Yeah, tell me who makes you feel this good.” Joel said, lifting his head to look at her, one of his broad, rough hands coming up to wrap around her throat. Making her gasp as he squeezed the sides lightly, feeling her pulse throb in time with her sweet hole around him. “Say it, baby, keep sayin’ it. Whose cock is feeding your starvin’ pussy?”

She opened her eyes, finding his dark ones.

“You- Yours, Joel!” She cried out, feeling her head become lighter as he cut off the blood flow, hazy smile on her face, jaw slack as he fucked into her. The words caught on her breath as she forced them out, stuttering. “Your cock, fucking- Fucking me so good!”

Joel almost snarled, thrusting harder, losing his rhythm. Jaw set so tight she could see the veins throb on his neck.

“That’s right, pretty girl. Hungry little pussy, what a poor thing.” He groaned, grip tightening around her throat, grinning at the way her eyes rolled into the back of her head. “C’mon, be a good girl and let me feed it.”

The coil inside her snapped again, almost painfully as she sucked in a shaky breath, her cries muffled by his mouth when he bent down to slot his lips over hers. Her heels dug into his lower back, pulling him deeper as she trembled, nails digging into his skin.

Everything hurt as he kept pounding into her, her veins filled with fire, his skin against hers hot, like it was burning her, her clit too sensitive as the coarse hair above his dick kept brushing against it.

But she loved it, the pleasure that wasn’t bordering on pain anymore, but actually hurt her in the best way possible, her entire body too stimulated.

It didn’t need much more for him to break, stilling inside her with a hiss that was swallowed by her mouth as he spilled himself inside of her, giving her exactly what she needed. Filled to the brim by his cock and his cum, humming as the pulsing of him didn’t seem to end, his hand around her throat just tightening a little more.

He loosened his grip when he felt her legs falling away from his waist, moving back to look at her face, blissed out while her body became boneless beneath him.

“My good girl.” He said, seeming less tense as he hovered above her still, the corners of his mouth slightly curled upwards, his hand moving up to brush some hair from her damp forehead. “Been too hungry.”

She giggled, catching her breath, feeling the blood rush back into her head as she laid there, feeling him soften inside of her.

“Not anymore.” The words were barely more than a quiet mumble, her weak hand coming up to cup his cheek, his coarse beard biting into the soft flesh of her palm. “Really missed you, though.”

In the quiet afterglow, the worry finally crept back in. She had been too pent up, too excited when he had walked into the door earlier, relieved to see him back but her need for him drove away all the worries of the past week.

Joel saw the change in her face, kissing her forehead tenderly.

“Been at the lodge when it happened, don’t worry, sweetheart.” He said, seeing her nod in understanding.

Silence fell between them, and she grew tired as she looked up at him, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Joel had worn her out pretty well, boneless and spent.

After pulling out slowly, he helped her get under the covers, his body finally warm again as he pulled her against his chest.

“You can take longer patrols, you know.” She said, her hot breath fanning over his neck where she had buried her face. “Hated you being away but if you fuck me like this every time you come home…”

Her words trailed off into the silence, making him chuckle.

“But no avalanches.” He said, making her giggle. “Love when she’s starved for me, sweetheart. Will see what I can do tomorrow, yeah?”

She nodded, eyes closing and enjoying his warmth again, his firm body against hers, strong arm wrapped around her waist.

Yeah, if he fucked her like this every time he came home from a long stretch of patrol, she definitely could manage being away from him for some time.

Starving for his touch and his cock.

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #the last of us hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedrostories #my writing

1K notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 2 months

Note

hey girl! i was wondering if you could write some angst - maybe like an unrequited love? like the reader is in love with Elijah but is too shy to tell him, and he doesn’t know about her feelings towards him because he’s too focused on Hayley? pretty please 🫶🏻

Crush

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You have quite the crush on Rebekah's big brother, and you find yourself lost in the tangled web of unreciprocated feelings, yearning for a love that may never be yours.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag, I may have gone a little off topic with this one ♡♡

6.7k words - Warnings: angst, masturbation, smut, corsets, Elijah being a history nerd and using it to flirt, Rebekah being the best (as always)

{Moodboard->}

You were excited to meet Rebekah’s infamous family. You thought Klaus, as notorious as he was, would intrigue you the most. However, the moment you laid eyes on him you knew you were doomed. Elijah. His charming smile, his piercing dark eyes and his strong hands. It took all your self-control not to blush and look away like some schoolgirl.

He was the first person who greeted you, his hand lingered in yours a moment longer than what could be considered polite and it sent butterflies straight into your stomach.

You were so gone, it was almost embarrassing. You couldn't help it, you were sure that anyone else would fall head over heels for him too.

But there was only one small problem: Elijah had eyes for another, Hayley Marshall. You tried not to be bitter, after all, they were just friends. However, you couldn't help but notice the way he looked at her, or the way she leaned into his touch. They way they would sometimes have entire conversations with their eyes. You couldn't stand it.

You had been so sure you had a chance. He had been flirting with you, right? But then you noticed that he was that way will everyone. He would flirt and smile, then gaze at you in a way that just oozed sex appeal.

You were staying in the compound with Rebekah and going to school full time. You enjoyed spending your free time reading, the Mikaelsons had an incredible collection of books and you had read a lot of them.

You were sitting at the table, a large book on medieval history in front of you. You were working on a research paper on romanticism in the middle ages. It was difficult, especially because there wasn't much written about that subject from this time period.

You considered asking Rebekah about it, but you knew it was a sore subject for her, so you decided against it.

You were getting ready to give up and start a new project when Elijah entered the room. You blushed at the sight of him, he was wearing a black T-shirt, and jeans. Looking the most casual you had ever seen him.

He gave you a friendly nod and headed to the bookshelf. He looked through the books for a moment, before taking one from the shelf. He placed it on the table before sitting across from you and beginning to read.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, both of you reading and not making a sound. You were surprised that you weren't more uncomfortable. The only sounds were the occasional page turn and the occasional noise from the city outside.

You got lost in your work again and came across an interesting paragraph about how poetry was used often to court potential partners. You wondered if Elijah had done that back then. He seemed like the kind of guy who would have.

The thought of Elijah reading you poetry made your heart skip a beat. You imagined him leaning in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered words of affection and lust.

Your eyes glanced up, and your breath hitched when you realized he was staring at you. You flushed, quickly looking back at your work.

He chuckled softly and reached out, tapping the top of your textbook.

"Interesting choice of reading material." He said.

You gave him a small smile, "I'm trying to write a research paper on the Middle Ages." You replied. "About romance and poetry."

"Ah, yes." He said with a smirk, "I remember that time period fondly."

You giggled, "Of course you do. You were probably the biggest player around."

He gave you an odd look, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. His eyes looked you up and down, and you could see a flash of something indecipherable cross them. You were surprised by how intense his gaze was, and felt your cheeks growing hot, regretting opening your mouth.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked, his tone teasing.

"I... uh..." You stammered, not sure how to respond. "You just seem like the type who'd have his pick of women."

Elijah smirked, his dark eyes meeting yours. "And why would you think that?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous.

You swallowed nervously, and his eyes narrowed slightly. You realized he was toying with you, and that he could hear your heartbeat quickening. You weren't going to let him win.

"I think you know why." You said, your voice surprisingly steady.

Elijah chuckled, his eyes roaming over your body once again. He put his hand on this chin and looked at you thoughtfully. "In the middle ages I was actually quite solitary." He said, a smirk still playing on his lips.

"What was it like back then?" You asked, trying to steer the conversation away from your previous comment.

Elijah's expression softened slightly, and his gaze seemed far away. "It was a different time." He said wistfully.

You couldn't help but stare at him. His eyes were filled with such pain and sadness. You knew he'd experienced terrible things, and that it must've been difficult for him. But somehow he'd managed to survive and maintain his humanity, something that very few vampires could say.

"What was it like to date -sorry- court someone back then? You asked, hoping to get a better understanding of him.

"Women were often married off when they were very young." Elijah said, a grim expression on his face. "They had no say in the matter. But there were ways around it."

He paused, his eyes meeting yours, and a slow smile spread across his lips. "It wasn't easy to be alone with a woman, not even for a moment. If you wanted to seduce her, you had to be creative."

Your face turned a deep shade of crimson, and you were suddenly thankful for the dim lighting. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, and he chuckled softly, clearly amused by your discomfort.

"What we are doing right now, alone in this room," he said, his voice low and seductive, "it wouldn't be allowed. Not without a chaperone. And if we were discovered, the consequences would be severe."

His eyes flashed with desire, and you found yourself unable to look away.

"What would they do?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"Well," he said, his tone mischievous, "you'd have to marry me, of course."

Your eyes widened in shock, and he laughed loudly, enjoying the reaction he'd gotten from you.

You felt flustered and embarrassed, but also oddly flattered. You couldn't believe he'd actually suggested that, and the thought of it made your heart race.

You wondered if he was joking, but you didn't dare ask. You weren't sure you could handle the answer.

The two of you sat quietly for a moment, before Hayley walked in holding Hope. She gave Elijah a questioning look and he stood, walking over to her. You watched as he placed a gentle kiss on the baby's forehead.

"Can you watch her for a few hours? They need me in the bayou," she asked him, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Of course." He replied, giving her a small smile.

She smiled gratefully, placing a hand on his cheek. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft and affectionate.

Elijah took Hope from Hayley's arms and cradled her gently. Giving her a wide smile and making funny faces, causing her to giggle. You couldn't help but smile. He was so sweet with her.

Hayley looked from you to Elijah, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "See you later." She said, before walking away.

Elijah nodded, his gaze lingering on her a moment before turning back to you. You looked down at your textbook, feeling guilty and jealous all at once.

He walked over to the couch and sat down, Hope still in his arms. You couldn't help but stare at the two of them. Elijah held his niece with such tenderness, and Hope seemed completely content in his arms. He was rocking her back and forth, humming a soft tune under his breath.

You'd never seen anything more beautiful.

Hope's eyes slowly started to droop, and Elijah smiled down at her. He continued to hum and rock her until her eyes finally closed, and she was asleep.

"You are so good with her." You said, unable to hold back the compliment.

He smiled, and his eyes met yours. You felt your heart skip a beat, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed.

You were sure he could hear it.

"Thank you," he said, not taking his eyes off Hope.

You tried to focus on your work, but it was difficult. Your mind kept wandering, and you found yourself glancing over at him more and more.

"I better go put her down, have a nice night." He said, standing up with Hope in his arms and heading towards the nursery.

"You too," you replied, smiling up at him.

Once he was gone, you let out a sigh and sank back into the couch. Your heart was still racing, and you were sure your face was still bright red.

It was the first time the two of you had been alone together. The first time you'd gotten a glimpse of his softer side.

And it made you want him even more.

Over the next few weeks you kept finding yourself alone with him. In the kitchen, in the library, on the balcony. It was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings, and you weren't sure how much longer you could keep it up.

He would ask you questions about your paper, and the two of you would talk for hours. He would listen to your ideas and tell you of his own experiences in the Middle Ages.

You loved how passionate he was about everything. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he enjoyed.

You wondered if he could see how you were falling for him, if he noticed how you blushed whenever he touched you. You were sure he did.

You knew it was foolish, but you couldn't help it. Every time you were around him, you couldn't stop yourself from imagining what it would be like to kiss him, to touch him. To be with him.

But he didn't seem interested, he didn't look at you the way he looked at Hayley.

One night, the two of you were sitting on the balcony, watching the stars. He was telling you a story of how he courted a woman who was to be wed to another, he would compel her betrothed to forget that he was around her.

"I don't miss much about those times, everything smelled terrible and fanaticism ran rampant, but there was something about the secrecy and the scandal that made it all..." He paused, looking for the right word, "exciting."

You chuckled, "I'm sure. But the fact that a lady could be forced to marry a man she didn't want... that sounds horrible."

"It was," Elijah agreed, "but not everyone was unhappy. Some women preferred it."

"Why?" You asked, your brows furrowing.

"Some liked the idea of being taken care of, of not having to make decisions or choices." He shrugged. "Others simply liked the security."

"What do you think?" You asked.

He turned to look at you, his eyes studying your face intently. "I think it was wrong. No woman should be forced into a marriage she doesn't want. No one should have that much power over another person."

You smiled, glad that he held similar opinions to your own.

"But I do miss the corsets, the anticipation when taking one off, pulling the ribbons and slowly revealing the soft, delicate skin underneath," his eyes met yours, his gaze intense. "It was like unwrapping a gift, a treasure."

You couldn't stop yourself from blushing, his words making your heart race.

He chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He took a sip of his bourbon and leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Do you have enough information for your paper now?" He asked.

You smiled and nodded, "yes, but I don't know how to credit my sources," you chuckled. "I can't tell my professor that I'm writing a paper on the middle ages based on the first hand account of a vampire I know," you grinned.

"Hmmm, yes, I suppose that would be difficult." He said, his tone teasing. "How about you quote a 'unique source' that has a vast knowledge of the subject and a passion for it?"

You laughed, "That might work."

"Good," he said, offering you his hand. "Shall we?"

You looked at him quizzically, "where are we going?"

He smirked, "to the 14th century, of course."

"What?" You said, staring at him in disbelief.

"First hand experience is far more educational than anything written down," he said, taking your hand in his.

"You ready?" He asked, his expression serious.

You bit your lip nervously, unsure of what was about to happen, but you trusted him.

"Ready."

You were immediately plunged into his memories. He was standing in a large stone hall, surrounded by people in period clothing. There was laughter and music, and the scent of roasted meat and wine filled the air.

You watched as Elijah walked through the crowd, smiling and greeting people as he passed. He was dressed in a dark red tunic, and his hair was slicked back into a ponytail. It was an amusing haircut for him, but it was the fashion back then.

You followed him as he made his way towards a woman standing in a corner. She was beautiful, her dark hair was braided into a crown on her head, and she was wearing a yellow gown with red embroidery.

Elijah stood next to her, his hand resting on her arm. She turned to look at him, her eyes filled with longing. A feeling you knew well.

"My Lady," he said, bowing his head.

"Sir," she said, her voice soft and sensual.

"Would you care to dance?" He asked, offering her his hand.

She hesitated, her gaze shifting towards a man who was watching them intently.

"I don't think my husband would approve."

"You worry too much," Elijah said, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.

They began to move together, their bodies swaying in perfect sync. You couldn't tear your eyes away, watching the two of them. They moved with such grace and elegance, it was like watching a dance meant only for the two of them.

A sudden movement caught your eye, and you saw the woman's husband storming towards the couple. His eyes were filled with rage, and his jaw was clenched tightly.

"Elijah," you said, hoping he could hear you.

But he didn't respond, instead he continued to dance with the woman, ignoring her husband's fury. When the husband reached them, Elijah simply grabbed the man and compelled him.

"I'm going to take a walk with your wife, she will be back before the sun comes up."

He let go of the man, who immediately walked away, not saying a word. Elijah offered his hand to the woman, and she took it, a small smile playing on her lips.

They walked out of the castle together, and you found yourself following behind. You watched as they strolled through the gardens, their hands entwined. They stopped under a large oak tree, and Elijah pulled her close, kissing her deeply.

You were mesmerized by the scene, your heart aching for the man you had grown to love. You wished it was you in her place. You wished he would kiss you like that.

You heard Elijah's voice, but it wasn't coming from the version in front of you. "I courted her for months, sneaking into her chambers, bringing her flowers and trinkets," he chuckled. "It was rather clandestine and exciting."

"What happened?" You asked, wanting to know the ending.

"She became pregnant with her husband's child." He said, his voice low and full of regret.

Your heart ached for him, and for the woman who had been forced to marry another man. The memory faded and you returned to the present, still holding Elijah's hand.

"I'm sorry," you said, not knowing what else to say.

He smiled, "It's alright, it was a long time ago."

"It's lonely isn't it? Being a vampire?" You asked.

He was quiet for a moment, before answering. "Yes. I think it's why I value my family so much," his gaze shifted to yours, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "And why I treasure our friendship."

"Me too," you said softly, smiling up at him.

You both sat in silence for a while, watching the stars and enjoying each other's company. After a while, Elijah stood, fixing his suit jacket and giving you a smile. "I hope you get an A on your paper."

You grinned, "Thanks for the help, Elijah. Goodnight."

You went to your room, lying awake in the dark. Your thoughts consumed with him, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. The memory he had shared with you, it was so personal, and yet he didn't mind that you were there.

Your mind wandered to the way he was kissing that woman in the garden. His lips pressing against hers, his hands gripping her waist, his body flush against hers. You could see the way her head fell back, her eyes fluttering shut. You could feel the heat between them.

Your skin began to flush, and you felt a warmth between your legs. You had never felt such an intense desire for someone before, but there was no denying it.

You wanted him, you wanted to experience that kind of passion, that kind of intimacy.

Your hand trailed down your body, slowly slipping under the waistband of your panties. Your fingers brushing against your most sensitive spot. You gasped at the sensation, biting your lip as you started to circle your finger slowly.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you pictured him above you, his body pressed against yours as he kissed your neck and shoulders. Your hand moving faster as you imagined what his mouth would feel like on your skin, what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against yours.

You gasped, arching your back as you felt yourself coming undone, his name on your lips as you imagined him touching you.

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and you felt the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you. It was a satisfying release, but it left you wanting more.

You were determined to have him, to taste him, to feel him inside of you. You were going to make him yours.

You practically skipped into the compound, giddy and excited to share your A+ grade on your paper. Elijah had been so helpful, and you couldn't wait to show him.

You heard voices coming from the courtyard, and you hurried past the gate, hoping to find him. You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him, his arms wrapped around Hayley.

Her hand was tangled in his hair, and her body was pressed against his. Their eyes were closed, and their lips were locked in a passionate kiss.

You couldn't move. Your heart was shattered. You'd been foolish, thinking you had a chance with him. He was just being nice in his typical flirty way, and you were dumb enough to think it meant more. You'd just been reading into things.

You felt tears sting your eyes, and you quickly walked past them and up to your room. You collapsed onto the bed, your heart broken.

You cried, unable to hold back the pain.

You felt so stupid.

He didn't like you, he was just being friendly. And you'd fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. How could you possibly believe someone like him could ever like someone like you?

You heard a quiet knock at your door and Rebekah walked in, she had heard you crying and came to check on you.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asked, sitting down on the bed beside you.

"I'm fine." You said, your voice hoarse.

"Just crying for fun then?" She said, giving you a knowing look.

You sighed and sat up, wiping the tears from your face. "I'm just being silly," you said, shaking your head.

She sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug, which caused you to cry even more. She rubbed your back, trying to comfort you.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No, I just need to get over it." You said, your voice breaking.

"Get over what darling?" Rebekah asked, her eyes filled with concern.

"Elijah." You said, wiping away your tears.

She looked at you, confusion written all over her face.

"I may have a bit of a crush on your brother." You confessed.

She laughed, "Oh is that all? I thought you were going to say something terrible."

"What? You aren't surprised?" You asked, staring at her in disbelief.

"You're not exactly subtle, darling." She chuckled. "Your heart beats faster, making your cheeks flush, whenever he's near. And your eyes light up like Christmas morning whenever he talks to you. It's rather obvious."

You couldn't believe she had noticed all that. Damn vampires and their heightened senses, you were mortified. If Rebekah noticed then Elijah definitely did as well.

You buried your face in your hands, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"So why the tears?" Rebekah asked, patting you on the shoulder.

"Because I just saw him kissing Hayley."

Rebekah was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. She put her arm around your shoulders.

"That might not mean anything, they're just friends. They have a complicated history," she explained.

You shook your head, "No, I saw the way he looked at her, the way she kissed him. There's definitely something between them, and it's more than just friendship."

Rebekah sighed and hugged you again."He's an idiot, always been that way around women. Sometimes I think it's more of a blind spot for him than Klaus," she said, her voice soothing.

You chuckled and wiped away your tears.

"He'll come around eventually," she said, smiling softly. "He just needs time to figure it out."

"Figure what out?" You asked, sniffling.

"That you're the perfect girl for him," she said, giving you an affectionate smile.

You smiled back and hugged her, thankful for her support. You felt a little better, and you were glad that she didn't judge you.

"I have an idea, a way for you to make him see what a catch you are," Rebekah said, her eyes glinting.

"Really?" You asked, excited at the prospect.

"Yes and it will be a chance for you to get him alone, away from Hayley," she smirked.

"I don't want to be that girl..," you started, not sure if you should meddle.

"I am," she grinned.

You chuckled, and Rebekah began telling you the plan. You listened intently, feeling better already. You were excited, and nervous.

But mostly excited.

Rebekah's idea was to have a costume party, she loved any excuse to throw one. It also gave you a reason to dress up, to catch Elijah's eye.

You went shopping with Rebekah, she wanted to make sure you got something that would suit your figure. She asked you what sort of theme it should be and you couldn't resist choosing one that you knew well: a medieval theme.

You found a beautiful, off the shoulder, forest green dress, with a tight laced corset that had gold threading, and long, flowing, bell sleeves. It was the perfect combination of modern and historical and it made your tits look fantastic.

Rebekah had gone with a blue version of the same dress, and the two of you were having a blast getting ready. She helped you style your hair for the night and even did your makeup, making sure that your look would draw Elijah's eye.

"Ready?" She asked, as the two of you looked at yourselves in the mirror.

"Yes," you said, trying to mask your nerves.

The two of you made your way down to the courtyard, where the party was in full swing.

Everyone was dressed in costumes from various time periods, and the atmosphere was electric. The music was loud, and people were dancing, laughing, and having a good time.

You saw Hayley and Klaus talking to some guests, and your eyes wandered around the room, looking for Elijah.

He was standing by the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd. He looked incredible, his dark hair perfectly styled, wearing a black velvet suit jacket with a high collar, a blue cravat and a white dress shirt.

Hayley walked up to you and Rebekah, and complimented the both of you on your dresses. She was dressed in a Victorian era gown, complete with a corset and a large bustle.

"So, where's Elijah tonight?" Rebekah asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Oh, he's around here somewhere," Hayley said bitterly, glancing around the room.

You felt a twinge of excitement. She sounded irritated by him. Maybe she wasn't happy in their relationship.

"What's wrong ?" Rebekah asked her, squeezing your hand subtly. You loved how sneaky she could be sometimes.

"It's just," Hayley paused, her eyes narrowing as she thought about her answer. "I don't think he's very interested in a relationship with me, he's been avoiding me all night."

Rebekah and you shared a look, a smirk playing on your lips.

"He's a hard one to read, that's for sure," you said, trying to sound sympathetic.

"I'm sorry to hear that darling, but perhaps its for the best," Rebekah added.

"Maybe, I just thought we were on the same page, I thought we had something," Hayley said, a pout forming on her lips.

You could see the pain in her eyes, and you couldn't help but feel sorry for her. You knew exactly how she felt.

"You're a gorgeous woman, and any man would be lucky to have you," Rebekah said, her voice genuine.

"Thanks," Hayley said, a sad smile on her face. "There is this guy here, his name is Jack, we've been flirting all night and he wants to dance with me," she said, looking over at a tall, handsome man in a knight costume.

"Then go," Rebekah said, smiling at her.

"Yeah, you deserve some fun," you said, trying not to sound too happy that Elijah might be single.

"Alright, I'm gonna do it," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

She walked off, and Rebekah turned to you, her face breaking into a wide grin.

"How unfortunate for Hayley, how fortunate for you," she smirked.

You couldn't help but smile.

"Go, now's your chance, he's all alone." Rebekah said, her eyes scanning the room.

"I'm not going to make a fool of myself," you said, shaking your head.

"You're not going to make a fool of yourself darling, you're going to have a wonderful time," she said, giving you a little shove.

You took a deep breath and headed toward Elijah, your heart racing. He looked very similar to how he dressed in the memory he shared with you, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

He was standing alone by the bar, his gaze distant. You walked up to him and smiled, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

"Hey," you said, trying to sound casual. "Nice outfit, all you are missing is the ponytail,” you added, grinning at him.

"Some things are better left in the past," he teased, his eyes wandering over your dress. "You look lovely," he added, a small smile on his face.

"You like the corset?" You asked, biting your lip and giving him a twirl. You always felt so giddy around him, it made you do silly things, like this.

His eyes widened, and a smirk spread across his face. "Yes, it's quite flattering," he said, his gaze lingering on your breasts.

You blushed but maintained your composure, Elijah liked confident women, and you were going to show him what he was missing.

"Does it remind you of the era?" You asked, a flirty tone in your voice.

"No, it's far too revealing for the time period," he smirked.

"Oh, really? You didn't think this was sexy in the middle ages?" You asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I didn't say that," he chuckled.

"Good," you smiled, "I worked hard on this outfit."

He looked at you, his face full of curiosity.

"You are definitely thorough in your research," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"I forgot to tell you I got an A+ on the paper, thank you for your help," you said, smiling brightly.

"It was a purely selfish reason, I wanted an excuse to spend time with you," he said, his words catching you off guard.

"Oh, I," you stammered, not sure how to respond.

"You are always very easy to be around," he said, giving you a gentle smile.

You smiled and nodded, his compliment filling your heart with joy.

"Care to dance?" He asked, offering you his hand.

Your heart raced, and your breath caught in your throat. You nodded, unable to form words. He took your hand and led you to the dance floor, his grip firm and possessive.

You looked up at him, your heart pounding. He was so handsome, and the way he was looking at you made you weak in the knees.

You closed your eyes and let him lead, the feel of his hands on your body making your blood run hot. You couldn't believe this was happening, it felt surreal.

"I have a confession," he said, his voice barely audible above the music.

"What is it?" you asked, looking into his eyes.

"You make me nervous," he stuttered, his words causing your heart to flutter.

You let out a louder laugh than you meant too, then turned bright red and some people glanced at you. You didn't want him to think you were laughing at him, but you couldn't stop.

"Me? Nervous? How do I make you nervous?" You asked, genuinely curious.

He tilted his head in confusion, a wide smile forming on his face.

"I mean, look at you," he said, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You're breathtaking."

You blushed, not used to receiving such compliments. "You make me nervous too," you confessed, smiling shyly.

"I know," he smirked, causing you to blush deeper.

You gazed up at him, his brown eyes full of warmth and admiration. He truly was an incredible man.

You rested your head against his chest and closed your eyes, letting the music and the feeling of his arms around you wash over you. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, like you were made for each other. Your heart soared, you felt like you were dreaming.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Do you want to go somewhere quieter?"

Your eyes snapped open and your heart raced, his question sending a rush of heat to your core.

He wanted you.

You nodded, unable to form words. He took your hand, a smirk forming on his lips as he led you toward a balcony. You followed him eagerly, your heart hammering in your chest.

The cool air hit your face, and he led you to a secluded area, away from the other party guests. You gazed at him, your desire for him overwhelming.

He placed his hands on your waist and pressed you up against the wall. His lips were mere inches from yours, his eyes burning into you.

His fingers brushed against the side of your face, then he leaned in and kissed you. It was slow and passionate, his lips soft against yours. You let out a quiet moan as you melted into his kiss.

He pulled away and looked at you, his eyes full of desire. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he breathed.

"Then why were you kissing Hayley?" You blurted out before you could stop yourself. You felt terrible for even saying it, it made you seem jealous and possessive. You knew it wasn't fair for you to get upset at him, you had no right to. But you couldn't help it.

His eyes widened and a smirk spread across his face. "So you are jealous?"

You blushed and averted your gaze.

"It was a mistake, she caught me by surprise," he explained, his fingers brushing your hair back. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

You nodded and looked up at him. He smiled and kissed you again, this time harder and more passionate.

He broke the kiss and whispered, "I've been drawn to you from the moment I met you."

Your heart soared at his words, your desire for him overwhelming. You wanted to feel his skin against yours, you needed him.

"Do you want to see my room? I have some books to share with you," you asked, knowing neither of you were doing any reading tonight.

He raised an eyebrow, "Lead the way," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Your heart pounded with excitement, and you took his hand in yours, leading him up to your room. You couldn't believe this was happening.

He closed the door behind him and kissed you, leading you backwards towards your bed. The back of your legs hit the edge and you fell down on the bed, your chest rising and falling rapidly. The corset making it difficult to breath, you tried to keep calm as you looked up at him. The reality was better than any fantasy you could ever dream of.

He placed his knee on the bed and leaned down to kiss you, his hands moving over your body, his fingers tugging at the laces of the corset. He did it slowly, each pull causing your breasts to spill out a little more.

He hummed softy, leaning down and kissing your neck and collarbone as your corset fell to the ground. He was so gentle with you, treating you with care, his movements deliberate and confident.

He unlaced the front of your dress, exposing your breasts. He gazed down at you, a look of wonder in his eyes. You couldn't help but blush at his reaction.

"Did you wear this in the hope I would take it off?" He asked, his voice husky.

"Maybe," you blushed.

He chuckled, leaning down and taking one of your breasts into his mouth. You let out a soft moan as he licked and sucked your nipple, his hands kneading your breast. You ran your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

He pulled back and smiled down at you, then began to undo his cravat. You watched him eagerly, biting your lip as he pulled it off and began unbuttoning his shirt. You reached out and helped him, your hands brushing against his toned chest.

He smiled and took your hand, pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist. "I've dreamt of this moment for so long," he murmured.

He reached out and pulled your dress up over your head, leaving you in just your panties and stockings. His gaze was filled with desire as he looked down at you.

You felt confident under his gaze, he made you feel beautiful. He leaned down and kissed you again, his fingers running up your thighs, playfully pulling on your stocking and letting it snap back into place. You giggled at his teasing.

He smiled against your lips and tugged your panties off. His eyes raked over your body, his gaze filled with desire.

You reached out and helped him remove the rest of his clothes, your heart racing.

He lowered himself down on the bed beside you and pulled you into his arms, kissing you softly. His hand lifted your thigh around his hips, and he ran his fingers along your thigh and between your legs, a groan escaping his throat at the feel of how wet you were for him. You blushed at his reaction and looked away, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"Are you nervous?" He asked, looking down at you, his gaze tender and warm.

"A little, you're the first vampire I've been with," you admitted.

He chuckled, a wide smile on his face. "I promise I won't bite," he whispered, a hint of humor in his voice.

You couldn't help but giggle.

You ran your hand up and down his chest, then slowly down to his hard length. You took his shaft in your hand and began to stroke him, a low groan escaping his lips.

Your eyes locked, his gaze filled with desire as he watched you pleasure him. You increased the pressure of your strokes, rubbing the tip of him in your hand.

"You feel nice," you whispered, your lips inches from his own.

He smiled and pulled you on top of him, your breasts against his chest as he kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your ass. You grinded on him slowly, the feel of his cock against your pussy making you gasp.

You sat up and slowly sank down onto him, the feel of him inside of you making your breath catch in your throat. He felt so good.

"You're perfect," he whispered as he reached up and ran his fingers through your hair, gently tugging you back down to him, kissing you deeply. You began to rock on top of him, the friction causing you to moan softly. He ran his hands over your back, groaning into your ear as you rode him, taking him deeper.

It was slow, hot and sticky, the two of you getting to know each other's bodies, exploring and teasing. Your orgasm slowly built, your moans becoming more and more intense. You felt his grip on you tighten, his breathing becoming ragged.

Your heart pounded against his as he gazed up at you, a smile on his lips. His hands gripped your hips and he took control, guiding your movements, rocking you back and forth. You gazed into each other's eyes, a silent understanding passing between the two of you. You felt a connection beyond lust or attraction, something deep and beautiful, and you knew he felt it too.

You rocked together, lost in one another, and you let yourself fall apart on top of him. Your body spasming, a long moan escaping your throat as your orgasm crashed into you, your muscles clenching around him.

He gazed up at you, his eyes filled with love and desire. "That's my girl," he whispered.

He gently rolled you on to your side, keeping your bodies connected. His fingers digging into your thigh as he held it against his hip, kissing and nuzzling your neck. He took you slowly, drawing out your pleasure as long as possible. His eyes never left yours, the love you felt for each other in that moment, palpable in the room.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, you tugged his head towards yours as you kissed him. He kissed you back, his movements becoming more frantic, his thrusts deep and rough.

His eyebrows arched upwards, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing. Your clung to his shoulders, moaning his name as he found his release deep inside of you. He held you close as he came down, the two of you a tangle of limbs and sweaty bodies.

He kept kissing you, soft and unhurried, his hand stroking your thigh, keeping you connected and still wrapped around him. You both caught your breath as you held each other close, neither wanting the moment to end.

"I've had a crush on you since the first day I saw you," you murmured into his ear, causing him to pull away and smile.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead, "And I, you."

He gently slipped out of you and pulled the sheets over your naked bodies, his arms encircling you in his embrace. You fell asleep in each other's arms, content and happy, dreaming of more nights just like this.

{Moodboard->}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please

638 notes · View notes

fuckyeahdindjarin · 4 months

Text

Ravel

A Seams Christmas special oneshot | Moodboard

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: Joel swings by yours with a little something before Christmas dinner at Tommy and Maria's.

Warnings: Unapologetic fluff and softness, inspired by this ask from @casssiopeia from the beginning of the year, no use of Y/N, very lightly edited

Word count: 2k

Notes: I'm so proud of writing up this little drabble. I've been in such a weird place with my writing, I'm just happy to end the year on a creative high. Obviously, I'm a few days late to Christmas, but better late than never!

There is a voice in my head telling me that this isn't good enough, that it doesn't hold up to what I was writing earlier this year. But I need to rewire my brain. There is no such thing as 'good' or 'bad' when it comes to fanfiction. All fanfiction is good fanfiction. This is our hobby, not our jobs, and we need to be kind to ourselves.

I am posting this at 11:59pm on New Year's Eve. Happy new year y'all, I hope Joel and Pin can bring you some festive cheer ❤️

Joel is this close to have a fucking breakdown.

He would measure out how close this is between his thumb and index finger if they were not currently tangled in webs of yarn, rapidly unravelling from from the bottom of what is supposed to be a sweater.

Your sweater.

The book that Lucy lent him months ago lies on the table before him, the pages yellowed and dogeared, open at the the easiest pattern of the lot to knit - a simple pullover in chunky yarn, in your favourite colour.

Well, it was supposed to be easy, anyway.

Despite Lucy basically holding his hand throughout the whole project, he’s had far less time than anticipated to work on it. Too many nights he finds himself at Tommy and Maria’s, elbow deep in dirty baby’s clothes and diapers, making himself useful for whatever needs to be done around the house.

Even Ellie chips in without being asked, often bringing back food from the canteen and making sure the severely sleep-deprived adults are eating, if not well fed. Joel honestly doesn’t remember how he did it with Sarah as a clueless twenty-something, with an even more clueless younger brother.

As he attempts to free himself from the quagmire of wool, he grimaces at the stiffness all over his body, feeling it especially in his back after sleeping in an armchair all night with a rapidly growing two-month old.

He’s too old for this shit - but there’s no saying no to the little rascal with Tommy’s nose and Maria’s eyes.

The knitting needles clatter to the floor when he jumps at the front door opening and slamming shut, a frustrated fuuuuuuck slipping past his gritted teeth.

Ellie’s voice rings out loud and clear as she scampers up the stairs, getting progressively louder until she’s outside his study. ‘Hey! Did you remember to put the potatoes in the oven? We have to leave for Tommy’s in an hour - dude, what the fuck is happening?’

‘What do you think is happenin’?’ he growls.

Crossing her arms, Ellie leans against the doorframe wearing a far too amused expression. ‘Maria said no gifts.’

Joel rolls his eyes. ‘It’s not for Maria.’

The teenager squints, perplexed, at the bits of wool in his hands. ‘What is that meant to be?’

‘... A sweater.’

Ellie bites her bottom lip, holding in a poorly concealed giggle. ‘I think a sweater is meant to have sleeves.’

‘You think?’

‘Want me to go get Lucy?’

With a heavy sigh, he mutters, ‘Fine.’

At the arch of her half-eyebrow, Joel adds begrudgingly, ‘Please.’

Ellie grins, sneakers skidding on the floorboards as she takes off. ‘Hang in there, old man!’

Despite the cold, his palms are sweaty, sticking to the kraft paper wrapped haphazardly around the even more haphazard package clutched tightly in his right hand.

The night air mists before him in puffs of white as he shuffles a path through the falling snow. His ears are tingling from the cold, and flexing the stiff, frozen tips of his fingers, Joel knows he should’ve worn his gloves. They weren’t in their usual place by the door though, and he was so frazzled that he barely got his shoes tied up before dashing out the door, sending Ellie ahead with the potatoes (that are definitely undercooked) to his brother’s.

Your cottage glows yellow and orange in the darkness, and your stairs no longer creak when he trudges up them, having fixed them just in time before the first snowfall.

He hears your footsteps come from deep within this house when he knocks. Your eyes are wide when your door cracks open tentatively, but then your lips curve into a smile - the smile that he takes with him and keeps him warm when he has to leave Jackson for days-long patrols.

‘What are you doing here?’ you ask, ushering him inside, not batting an eye at the snow he tracks inside. ‘I thought we were meeting at Maria’s.’

Pressing a kiss to your lips, he softens at the way you lift your face towards him to catch it, careful to keep the parcel out of sight behind his back. ‘Yeah, we were, but thought I’d see if you need a hand with anythin’.’

‘Such a gentleman,’ you tease.

A low fire burns in the hearth, the wood he chopped for you in the fall stacked in a tidy pile next to the mantelpiece. Sweeping his eyes across the living space, he spots the book with the cracked spine that he reads when he’s here on the coffee table, next to yours. On the other side of the couch is the Christmas tree that he cut for you, and he watched you dress it up in tinsel and fairylights one night after a quiet dinner and before hot cocoa under thick blankets.

He likes seeing himself at your home. In the things he does for you; in his things, casually scattered around - like they belong in your space.

‘The pies are in the kitchen, could you please put them in a bag?’ you ask. ‘I’ll just grab my coat and we can go.’

‘Sure, sweetheart,’ he answers, waiting until you’ve disappeared into the bedroom before setting down the present under the tree.

He’s leaning against the back of the couch when you pop back in, a few layers deeper than when you left him, the pies nestled safely in a carrier bag by his boots.

‘Shall we?’ you ask brightly.

Joel hesitates, wondering if he should wait until after dinner to tell you about the present. It only takes his eyes darting to the foot of the tree for the briefest moment for you to catch on. The slow smile that stretches your cheeks and lights up your eyes warms him from the inside out.

You cock your head to one side, playing coy. ‘What’s that, Joel?’

He shrugs, feigning cool. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and find out?’

His chest physically swells at the way you dash towards the tree, landing on your knees in uncharacteristic recklessness, the impact only softened by the rug underneath. You cradle the lumpy package to your chest like something precious. ‘You got me a present.’

He settles on the end of the couch next to you, his heart beating harder in his ribcage than he’d like to admit. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.’

You frown at him. ‘Why?’

‘You’ll see, but I wanted to give it to you anyway.’

You open the package carefully, as if it was wrapped in the fancy paper people used to buy at the shop. Joel holds his breath when you peel it away to reveal what’s inside.

He’s far too inside his own head to hear your inhale that sounds a lot like wonder. You pick up the sweater gently, shaking it out, and Joel winces when he sees it in the flicker of the firelight.

Disastrous doesn’t begin to cover it. Lucy managed to connect the sleeves to the shapeless body in a last-ditch salvage attempt, but one is clearly longer than the other. The stitches are untidy, some have obviously caught onto something and pulled loose. Rough around the edges is putting it kindly.

Joel wants to reach out, grab it, chuck it into the fire and let the flames swallow it whole.

Finally, the silence gets the better of him, and he blurts out. ‘I’m sorry.’

You stare at him, stunned. ‘What?’

Under his whiskers, his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he rambles, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinkin’. You deserve better sweetheart, here, let me -’

You almost lose your balance keeping the sweater out of his reach. ‘Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.’

Confused, he watches you rise to your feet, shucking your outer coat and another layer. ‘What are you doin’?’

Grabbing the sweater, you slide it over your head and thread your arms through the sleeves. The soft knit drapes over your curves, too big over your shoulders and the hem falling unevenly, higher on the right side than the left. One sleeve is long enough to cover half your hand, while the other sits right on the wrist.

And yet.

You’re beaming like you just picked up something at Bloomin’dales or whatever the fuck those department stores were called back then.

‘I love it,’ you declare, no trace of irony in your voice, as hard as he’s trying to find it.

He scoffs in disbelief. ‘C’mon, sweetheart, you’re just sayin’ it -’

You surprise him, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and dragging him towards you to plant a firm kiss on his lips.

‘I love it,’ you repeat slowly, with conviction, as if willing him to believe you. ‘Thank you.’

He doesn’t quite still, but he smiles and kisses you back. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart.’

‘Since we’re doing this -’ you trail off, sliding out of his grip to reach around the back of the tree, pulling out a neatly wrapped gift. ‘This is for you.’

Joel pauses.

For him.

For the longest time, nothing had been for him unless it was soul-crushing grief and pain.

And yet here it is - his name on the tag written in your neat handwriting. Something he can hold in his hands. For him.

His fingers tremble when he reaches out. The package is soft, and the paper crackles under his grip. He all but tears it open, uncaring of the way the wrapping falls to the floor.

A laugh bubbles out of his throat, and you look relieved at his reaction. ‘You like it?’

It’s not quite a Santa hat. It’s a chunky dark red beanie with a white brim folded back, and topped with a white pompom.

‘My ears were so cold walkin’ over. It’s perfect,’ he says, pulling it over the crown of his head. Of course, it fits just right, sliding soft and warm over his ears. He adds with a wink, ‘Y’know what, I might just shimmy down some chimneys after dinner.’

‘As long as you shimmy down mine too,’ you retort, not hearing the euphemism.

Joel quirks an eyebrow at that, one large palm squeezing your backside through the layers. ‘That an open invitation, sweetheart?’

You duck your head, more out of habit than actual shyness, with mischief in your smile. ‘Don’t be so crude, Joel Miller.’

Adjusting his new hat so that it sits comfortably, he points at the pompom and jokes, ‘Shame I can’t wear this on patrols.’

Right on cue, you hold up a finger. ‘Funny you should say that.’

He chuckles when you pull out a second, plain black beanie, as if out of thin air. ‘You really thought of everythin’, sweetheart.’

You shrug playfully. ‘I’m smart like that.’

‘I know you are,’ he smiles.

‘Merry Christmas, Joel.’

His lips find yours again in a slow, lingering kiss that has you leaning into him for more when he pulls back. ‘Thank you. For everythin’.’

You hold his gaze - heavy with meaning, light with joy. It wouldn’t take more than a tilt of the head towards the bedroom to derail your evening plans, and you both know it.

In the end, you’re the one who stays strong. Taking one step back from his warmth, you reach for your coat. ‘We’re late, we should go.’

His eyes widen. ‘Wait - you’re not wearin’ that to dinner are you?’

‘Of course I am,’ you say, buttoning up your coat over the sweater.

‘You don’t have to, sweetheart,’ he almost pleads with you.

You grin, heading for the door, blowing out candles as you go. ‘Too bad, I’m never taking it off.’

Joel shakes his head with a wry huff. ‘Well, I hope not never -’

You have one foot out the door when you suddenly remember. ‘I almost forgot - you left your gloves here last time. They’re in the cupboard by the door.’

Ah, that’s where they went. He opens the drawer and pulls them on, one after the other, the leather, worn smooth with age, creaking as he wraps his fingers around the handles of the carrier bag.

Joel is about to follow you out the door when he pauses over the threshold. Glancing down at the black beanie in his grasp, he reaches up and hooks it on the coat rack, nestled among your clothes.

He hopes that when the time comes for him to wear it for the first time - maybe on a patrol that will take him away from you for a few days - it will smell like you.

Gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics ❄️

More notes: I hope I will return to the main series in the new year. I've missed these two lovebirds, I hope you enjoyed this little interlude! ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #goodbye 2023

556 notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 5 months

Text

It's a Wrap!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Ft Alpine and Winter)

Word Count: 1,211

Summary: Getting anything done with two floofy floofs around is never easy...of course they're just so cute but also pains in the butt (in the best way!)

Author's Note: Just love Bucky with his animals so much and this idea popped into my head. There is no particular Holiday or occasion mentioned here so whatever one you want to use is perfect! The dog, Winter, is the one I always use in my stories- he has three legs and Bucky adopted him and of course there is Alpine our fav kitty. The photos in my moodboard are what I imagine they'd look like! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: Soft and sweet fluff and fun and the cutest animals ever!

“Hey mister!”

Bucky gently tugs the bow from Alpine’s claws.

“That’s not for you to play with! You have plenty of toys!”

Bucky turns to Alpine’s toy bin and points with a stern look. “See…too many toys!”

Winter hops over and nudges Bucky’s arm with a cold nose, a large stuffed duck hanging from his mouth.

Bucky scratches behind the dog’s ears. “I know buddy. That’s your favorite duck.”

Winter’s tail thumps loudly against the side of the couch as he cocks his head to the side.

“If I play now I’ll never get this done,” Bucky tells Winter softly.

He then leans closer to the dog and whispers in his ear. “And if Alpine doesn’t quit his shit I’m gonna have to lock him in the bathroom.”

Winter drops his toy and barks loudly, side eyeing the cat.

“I know,” Bucky says in comradery. “But let’s see how we do.”

Winter promptly does his best stretch and then lays down right next to Bucky.

“Ohhhh big stretch,” Bucky says before giving Winter a pat.

The dog’s long, fluffy and white tail thumps a few more times before he settles quietly, the majority of his body pressed against Bucky’s outstretched leg.

Alpine, not wanting to be left out, sashays over and sits right in front of Bucky, looking up at him with big blue expectant eyes.

“Alpine,” Bucky sighs. “You can’t sit there bud. How am I supposed to wrap?”

The cat blinks several times and then lifts his paw to lick it, clearly uncaring.

Bucky scoops up the cat and positions him on his thigh next to Winter.

Winter ears go up and he sniffs Alpine a few times before settling back down. Alpine gently bats at Winter’s nose before he lays on his side and gets comfortable.

“FINALLY!” Bucky huffs. “Now maybe I can get some things wrapped before Mommy gets home.”

At the word “mommy,” both animals perk up.

“She’ll be home soon,” Bucky assures them with soft pets. “But I need to at least get her gift wrapped first!”

Bucky looks between the rolls of wrapping paper. “Which one should I use?”

Neither Winter nor Alpine respond so Bucky makes a commitment on his own. As soon as he starts to unroll the paper Alpine pounces, pawing and poking at it.

“Alpine!” Bucky chides as he lifts him up. “You can’t play with that!”

Alpine meows loudly as his legs swing back at forth and his tail swishes side to side. Bucky turns the cat so they are face to face.

“Listen you. Unless you’re gonna help you have to behave!”

“MEOW!”

“I’ll put you in the bathroom!”

Winter’s head lifts and he huffs.

“I know I won’t but still…” Bucky grumbles.

He takes Alpine and sets him on his shoulder. “Stay there!”

Alpine digs his claws into Bucky’s Henley and sits perched atop his broad shoulder.

Winter rests his head on Bucky’s thigh.

“Ok, here we go again,” Bucky sighs.

He takes your gift and sets it down in the center of the paper and begins to fold it.

Winter’s wet nose immediately pokes at the paper, leaving a wet spot.

“Doggo!” Bucky says sharply. “Watch that honker.”

Winter’s tail wags still and he scoots closer, inspecting everything with his big black nose.

Once Bucky has it wrapped as best he can he looks at the bag of ribbon.

“This one?” he says as he holds up a particularly pretty one.

Alpine immediately swats at it with a clawed paw and Winter tries to give it a small nibble.

“Shit,” Bucky mutters. “You two are no help!”

Bucky secures the bow as best he can then looks over his handiwork.

“I mean…,” he starts as he looks it over. “It’s the thought that counts right?”

Alpine grows bored with the now wrapped gift and starts to bat at the stray hairs that have fallen loose from Bucky’s bun.

Winter licks Bucky’s hand.

“Thanks guys.”

The sound of the lock turning alerts everyone to your arrival and Bucky quickly hides the gift then follows the animals in their rush to greet you.

“Hi doll face,” Bucky says as he takes you in his arms.

Winter shimmies his large body between the two of you until you pet him and Alpine slips between your legs to rub against you.

“Hi guys!” you smile.

“We missed you,” Bucky says.

“I missed you all more.”

You wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck and press your lips to his.

“What have you been up to?” you whisper.

“Nothin’ much,” Bucky answers.

Winter barks.

You raise an eyebrow and slip from Bucky’s grasp. As you approach the living room Winter bounds past you and starts to dance his paws on top of the mess Bucky left.

“Wrapping?” you ask as Bucky slides up behind you and circles his arms around your waist.

“I thought I should get started,” he murmurs against your ear.

“Want some help?” you ask.

“Definitely,” he answers. “Between these two floofs,” and he motions to Alpine and Winter, “I only got one thing wrapped.”

Bucky sits and leans back along the couch, spreading his legs wide and patting between them. You sit in the open space and rest your back to his chest.

As soon as you grab the wrapping paper, Alpine appears out of nowhere and attacks it.

“See what I’ve been dealing with!” Bucky whines even as you feel his body shake with laughter. “A menace!

Winter, as if knowing he was left out, tries to smash his way onto Bucky’s lap.

“TWO MENACES!” Bucky adds in a huff.

You giggle and pick up Alpine, smooshing him to your chest and cooing at him sweetly.

“Have you been driving daddy nuts all afternoon my sweet boy?”

Alpine nuzzles his head under your chin and purrs.

“And what about you,” you say to Winter as you wrap your free arm around his fluffy neck and scratch his head. “Who’s my good boy?”

Winter’s whole-body wiggles in joy and he starts to lick your face.

“Aw Buck. They couldn’t have been that bad!”

Bucky grumbles something inaudible from behind you and it only makes you love on the babies more.

“How about we just have a cuddle party? We can wrap later,” you suggest.

“I love this plan,” Bucky hums. “But first…we need sustenance!”

He stands and then helps you up before walking into the kitchen. You hear the rustle of bags and the banging of cabinets as you prepare the couch with the pillows and blankets.

As soon as you’re seated Winter paws at the spot on the cushion where he usually lays. You give him a small lift to help him up and then watch as Alpine walks along the edge of the couch and jumps down to the pillow below.

Bucky comes back in with his arms full of goodies.

“Look at this cuddle party,” he muses as he sits next to you.

You snuggle into Bucky’s side and Winter snuggles closer to you. Even Alpine curls up close to Bucky, his warm head pressed against his metal arm.

With your snacks at the ready and Lord of the Rings on the screen you settle into the soft warmth and comfort of your little family.

@hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @randomfandompenguin @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @goldylions

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky and alpine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #alpine barnes #winter barnes

520 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

A Little Push

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't think he deserves to be with you, but gets a little push to speak up when he sees your ex. Word Count: Over 5.1k Warnings: E.S.C, unprotected (v)aginal (s)ex (wrap it before you tap it), shower (s)ex, jealousy, (f)lirting, insecurities, slight feels (it's me), idiotic Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?) and an ex. A/N: For @drabblewithfrannybarnes and the gym prompt. I hope you like it! ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, banner by the lovely @sgt-seabass (and thank you!), and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wondered some days if he made the right choice by working for S.H.I.E.L.D.. While he didn’t consider himself to be completely standoffish as he recovered, no matter how much Sam tried to joke about that, he still had a difficult time getting along with some of the agents. It wasn’t for lack of trying. He attempted to strike up conversations with a few, but that only led to forced interactions and awkward silences.

He didn’t try much after that.

Maybe they didn’t trust him because of his past, even with the work he had done with the Avengers, even though he had no choice in his past actions. He wouldn’t hold that against them. He was even ready to accept that his circle of friends would remain small, which he didn’t mind.

But he hadn’t expected you to come along.

“You can sit with me if you’d like.”

At first, he thought you were talking to someone else until he realized your gaze was on him. He didn’t recognize you, but he remembered Steve saying that they were getting a transfer from another division. He hoped he wasn’t glaring or giving you an awkward stare, but your beautiful smile threw him for a loop. Unless he was with Steve and the others, no one asked him to sit with them.

But you did.

It took another moment for him to respond, but he took you up on your offer and joined you. He also picked up on the stares right away from the other agents, like they were jealous that he managed to get your attention. He didn’t blame them for wanting it.

Especially since the next smile you gave him made him fall in love a little more.

Maybe love at first sight does exist.

“Do you go by Bucky or James? I can call you Sarge if you want, Sergeant.”

You explained over breakfast that you transferred because you needed a change and were excited to take on some new tasks. He didn’t pick up on any bad intentions as you spoke with him. He found it easy to talk to you. You even got a couple of smiles out of him.

“Thanks for sitting with me. Do you want to have breakfast with me again tomorrow?”

Bucky accepted.

As the two of you grew closer, it became routine to grab breakfast together in the breakroom and chat quietly between reps when you worked out. He even shifted his schedule around so the two of you could exercise together. He looked forward to it.

And naturally on his path to continue making amends, he had to punish himself by thinking he wasn’t good enough for you. Because why would he be? You became an agent to help others and how many had he destroyed? Not by choice, never his choice, but he was still waging that war in his mind and heart.

“Will today finally be the day, Barnes?” Natasha asked as she finished her stretches.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky grumbled, his eyes flickering to the clock on the wall as he waited for you to enter the onsite gym.

“Yes, you do and let it be today, please. I can’t have Rogers winning the pool.”

“You’re taking bets, Romanoff?” he asked with a cold stare, as if the Black Widow would cower under his gaze. “Un-fucking-believable.”

He told Steve in confidence that he liked being around you. So, naturally, Sam and Natasha found out not long after that. Steve said more than once that Bucky wouldn’t be breaking any bylaws by dating you. Natasha added in passing that mixing business with pleasure didn’t seem to bother you as you had dated another agent sometime back before your transfer. An amicable breakup from what Sam heard.

For living in a world of spies and soldiers, no one could seem to keep their mouths shut.

“I’ll split the winnings with you,” she offered unapologetically. “You can use it to take her on a date. You do have something nice to wear that isn’t a Henley, right?”

The smartass remark he had on the tip of his tongue died when you walked through the door. Clad in your normal black tank top and leggings with your bag on your shoulder, he found himself staring the way he always did as you glided along the floor with confidence and a smile. A few heads turned to get a glimpse as you walked by.

But you directed your gaze at him.

“Hey, handsome,” you smiled, setting your bag and water down. You didn’t call anyone handsome or any other sort of nickname, except for him.

“Hi?”

Why did that come out as a question?

“Hopeless,” Natasha muttered softly enough for him to hear. “Hey.”

“Hey, Nat. How’s it going?”

His cheeks warmed as you began your stretches and chatted with the redhead, wanting nothing more than to put his hands on your hips and guide your body. He wanted to believe that you liked him enough for him to make a move. Why else would you keep getting breakfast with him?

And why else were you bending over right in front of him in a pair of leggings that looked like a second skin?

Fuck.

“Oh, I have your book in my bag,” you said, looking at him from between your legs. “Thanks for lending it to me.”

Thank fuck I’m upside down from your angle so you don’t see me staring at your ass.

Guilt crept in as he blinked. You were nothing but kind and accepting and here he was oogling over you. Why couldn’t he get it through his head that he was your friend and nothing more?

On the other hand, why couldn’t he get it through his head that he had the right to be happy?

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

“Do you mind spotting me?” you asked once you finished warming up. “Unless you plan to help Nat. I can wait.”

“Oh, no. I’m just here for entertainment,” she joked.

“Thanks,” you smiled, heading to the first machine with Bucky in tow. “Any plans this weekend?” you asked, checking the weight on the bar before you took a seat.

“No plans,” he said, taking his spot at the end of the bench so he could spot you. “Kind of a boring old man.”

“You’re not boring,” you said, winking as you laid back. “But I’ll give you old.”

“Rude,” he smiled as you giggled. “What about you?”

“Nope. No plans,” you answered, giving him a glance as you set your hands on the bar. “No plans at all.”

Are you giving me an opening?

“That’s too bad,” is what he said.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” you said with quiet disappointment.

Sorry, Nat. Not winning the pool today because I’m a fucking idiot.

Bucky kept stealing glances at you as the two of you went through your normal workout routine, unable to figure out how you managed to look beautiful while lifting weights. The fact of the matter is you looked beautiful to him no matter what you did. He fluctuated between his heart stopping and losing his breath whenever he saw you. Especially when you smiled at him.

And he wouldn’t take that leap.

“You know what sounds really nice? A massage,” you said, setting the weight down to grab your water. He focused on your mouth as you brought the bottle to your lips, his fingers flexing as you swallowed once. Twice.

Are you giving me another opening?

Before Bucky could think of a suave reply, the door opened. A tall, dark haired agent he didn’t recognize walked in and did a slow sweep of the gym. From the quick assessment, he gathered that the guy was in shape. He didn’t necessarily walk through like he owned the place, but it bordered on cockiness.

I don’t even know him, so why do I want to punch his face in?

“Wait. Is that Nate?” you asked, your gaze following the man as Natasha silently walked over to join you. “What’s he doing here?”

Nate?

“You know him?” Bucky asked as the guy, Nate apparently, stopped to chat with someone by the mirrors.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, setting your water down and wiping your hands on your thighs as you avoided his gaze. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

Ex-boyfriend?

“You two worked in the same division, didn’t you? Before you transferred?” Natasha asked. You nodded in reply. “It didn’t work out with you two, huh?”

“No, but it wasn’t a dramatic breakup or anything. No hard feelings,” you explained.

Bucky remembered Sam saying it was amicable, but he still felt the need to shield you away from your ex. Even if he hadn’t spotted you yet. Maybe he was ignoring you. That couldn’t be it. No one could ignore you.

Did you want him to notice you?

“That’s a shame,” Natasha said, swinging her gaze toward Bucky. “He’s cute.”

Traitor. Thought you were my friend.

“Yeah, he is,” you agreed.

Bucky grabbed the nearest barbell to get his head back into why he was in the gym in the first place, gritting his teeth so hard he was shocked they didn’t crack.

“And there’s this thing he used to do with his tongue that just…” you trailed off with a sigh.

The metal hand gripped the barbell tighter. Nate was an ex, not a current boyfriend. It didn’t work out for a reason.

“You need a moment?” the redhead asked.

“No, I just need to get laid,” you said, glancing at Bucky out of the corner of your eye.

If you need to get laid, I can help you with that. Not Nate or some other prick. They’re not worthy of touching you. Neither am I, but that’s not the fucking point. I can do things with my tongue that’ll make you see stars.

“Bucky?” you asked gently. “Are you okay?”

Far fucking from it.

“Yeah, I’m good. Why?”

You pointed to the barbell in his hands. “Because you just bent that in half.”

Glancing down at his hands, he saw that the stainless steel was indeed bent in half and ignored Natasha’s snort as he tried to fix it. “I was just testing the durability. It’s terrible. A health and safety hazard, really.”

“I didn’t realize your job involved quality assurance,” you teased as he set the piece of equipment down.

“It’s kind of a new hobby,” he said, a weird look crossing his face.

A new hobby? Really?

“Okay, Sarge,” you giggled.

Your laughter seemed to catch Nate’s attention since he immediately looked behind him. A look of realization crossed his features before he smiled. The look on his face made Bucky’s heart drop as he excused himself from the agent he was speaking to and made a beeline toward you. The man may not be your boyfriend anymore, but he still felt something for you.

Either that or the look of longing was easily faked.

“Hey!" Nate smiled as he stopped in front of you, opening his arms as he leaned in. "Good to see you."

“You, too. And you don’t want to do that,” you said, gesturing to yourself. “I’m all sweaty.”

“Never bothered me before,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. He met Bucky’s gaze over your shoulder with the smallest of smirks. “Smell just as good as I remember.”

“Don’t,” Natasha whispered to Bucky when the hug lingered for a few more seconds.

Bucky wasn’t planning on doing anything. Not right now, at least. Committing murder wasn’t on his “to do” list when he woke up today, but he was seconds away from snapping. Would you forgive him if he broke one of Nate’s bones?

“You must be Bucky,” Nate said once he released you.

He had to stop himself from shoving you behind his back. “You must be the ex,” he said, not bothering with any attempt to be friendly. “Why are you here?”

Nate either didn’t intimidate easily or he didn’t care. “You talked about me?” he teased, nudging you with his elbow.

“No, not really,” you smiled a little, raising an eyebrow at Bucky.

He tried to keep a straight face because he wasn’t jealous. He had no reason to be jealous. That certainly wasn’t the reason why his fingers began to twitch. Wasn’t the reason he wanted to knock Nate’s teeth in.

Not at all.

“To anwer your question, I accepted a transfer and was getting a look around the place. I was also here to exercise, but now I think I want to catch up,” he smiled, turning his attention back to you.

“You transferred here?” you asked in disbelief.

You don’t sound thrilled, which is a good sign, right?

“Yeah, I got promoted,” he explained, angling his body to put distance between you and Bucky. “You doing anything after this?”

“Me,” Bucky said before his brain caught up with his mouth.

Maybe you didn't hear me.

Your eyebrows shot up as you leaned around Nate to stare at Bucky. "I'm doing you?" you asked.

Fuck, you heard me.

"Yeah, Barnes. Is she doing you?" Natasha asked without a hint of humor in her tone as Nate glared over his shoulder.

"I mean," he cleared his throat as he tried to think of an excuse, which wasn't easy with three pairs of eyes on him. "She's hanging out with me. Movie night."

"It's not even nighttime," Nate said skeptically.

"It's an early movie night," he grumbled.

"Yeah, an early movie night," you agreed slowly. Bucky almost sighed in relief before you looked at Nate. "But we can catch up later, okay? Think my workout is over for now."

Bucky's mouth fell open when you went to grab your things. "But-"

"Movie night. I know. Thanks for your help," you smiled, but it seemed forced. "I'll see you later, Nat. And Nate."

"Later," Nate said, his gaze lingering as you headed toward the locker room. "She really is something, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is," Bucky agreed, staring after you, too. He couldn't argue with that.

"It's really nice that you two are friends," Nate smiled, clapping Bucky on the shoulder as his blood boiled. "Enjoy your movie night."

Natasha stepped in front of Bucky before he could go after the prick. "Do not," she said as Nate headed toward another machine.

"I have to do something," Bucky said because he was close to losing it.

"You really want to do something?" she asked, tilting her head toward the locker room. "Go talk to her. Please."

"Fine. I will," Bucky said, stepping around Natasha as he made up his mind.

"I meant when she was done!" she called after him.

Bucky stalked toward the locker room and pushed the double doors open. He took a breath as he walked through the first row of lockers and spotted you sitting on the bench. Was he making a big mistake?

"You lost?" you asked, removing one of your shoes.

He crossed his arms and shook his head as you took off the other shoe. "You didn't do a cool down."

You met his eyes and smiled. "That's why you came in here?"

"Did you know Nate would be here?" he blurted out.

Smooth.

You blinked slowly at him before you removed your socks. "Nope. And why would it matter if I did? He still works for this organization. Besides, we broke up and moved on."

"If he moved on, why was he smiling at you like that?" he accused.

You stood up with a shrug. "Because we get along? He's a friendly guy. That's just how he is."

"I know how guys smile at girls they like," he said. He knew because he smiled at you that way. "He's still into you."

The frown you gave him made him want to kiss it away before you giggled. "He is not into me anymore."

"Are you two going to date again?" he asked, taking two steps forward. You were still out of his reach. "I know I don't have the right to ask, but I have to know."

Because you're not my girl.

“No, you don't," you confirmed, your gaze softening as you shook your head. "But no, I’m not going to date him again. He's my ex for a reason and that's that."

Bucky inhaled and exhaled slowly, able to breathe a little easier.

"Why? Would it bother you if I did? Because if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous. Bending the bar? Your not-so-subtle excuse for me not to hang out with him? Following me in here?"

The words got stuck in his throat as you waited for an answer, an expectant look on your face. Why was it so hard to say that it would bother him? It shouldn't because if that made you happy, he'd respect that.

Was it wrong that he wanted you to be happy with him and not some other guy?

You hung your head for a split second before you turned back to your locker. "Look, are you done grilling me or are you sticking around?" you asked, pulling your top over your head. "Because I have to shower."

"You think I won't follow you and finish this conversation?"

Your bra came off next. He knew that because you tossed the garment at his face and he was too stunned to catch it. It took him a moment to realize that you were facing him again, your breasts on display as you placed your hands on your hips.

A gentleman would have looked away. A good man would have left. But he was something else entirely and he couldn't stop staring at the vision of perfection in front of him.

"You're free to do whatever you want," you said casually as you spun around and shimmied out of your leggings. His eyes followed the curves as your underwear came off next and it took everything in him not to throw you across the bench and fuck you until you screamed his name. "But I told you. I have to shower."

Bucky didn't speak as you grabbed your towel and shower bag. You didn't bother covering up as you sauntered away from him, like being naked around him was a perfectly normal thing. He wanted it to be a normal thing.

Was that an invitation? Should he take it? Or was it a test?

"Fuck it," he mumbled as he kicked off his shoes and stripped, leaving his clothes next to yours as he searched for you again. If you ended up screaming or punching him, he'd accept that punishment and beg your forgiveness later. He let this go on long enough.

He froze when he saw you under the spray of the water, his cock twitching with interest as he watched the droplets slide from your chest to the vee between your legs. You had your eyes closed and he wasn't sure if he should call out to get your attention. He didn't want to frighten you and make you fall.

You gasped when you opened your eyes, but didn't make a move to cover yourself. He imagined this is what some men saw when a siren lured them out to sea. Beauty that they weren't worthy of looking upon, but too far gone to care as the tide swept them away.

"I guess you really want to finish that conversation?" you asked, your gaze dropping from his face to his chest and a bit lower.

Under your gaze, he wasn't afraid of you looking upon his scars. "I was jealous. I am jealous. I hated seeing him touch you," he admitted.

He wanted to replace Nate's touch with his own.

"There's nothing to be jealous of," you said, swallowing as he moved forward.

"Can't help it," he said, not blinking as he moved closer. "You also said I could do whatever I wanted."

"I did," you nodded.

His wide shoulders blocked some of the spray as he stepped into the shower and backed you against the wall. "What if I said I wanted to do you?"

Very fucking eloquent.

"I'd say it's about fucking time since I've been trying to get your attention and it better not be a joke," you said, placing your hands on his shoulders as your gaze went to his chest again.

You actually want me. Fuck.

He grasped your chin and lifted your head. The corner of his mouth twitched like he wanted to smile and his heart raced as his lips ghosted over yours. "You like me? And you want me to fuck you?"

He needed to hear you say it.

"I was hinting for you to ask me out this weekend. I thought it was obvious?" you asked, a small, vulnerable crack in your voice. "I like you, okay? I'm crazy about you. I have been since you sat down and had breakfast with me that first day and I-"

"I'm a fucking idiot," he whispered before his lips met yours.

His head spun as he kissed you unashamedly, unleashing the want he kept pent up for too long and showing no mercy as he swallowed down the moan you let out. His hands slid down to grip your ass, capturing another small sound in his mouth as he slipped his thigh between your legs. Now that it was out in the open, that you wanted him, he couldn't stop himself.

Unless you told him to.

"So, you like me, too?" you breathed out as he pressed kisses along your neck, your nails digging into his shoulders as he thrust his knee against your wetness.

Gonna lose my fucking mind when I'm inside you.

"So much that I wanted to break Nate's fingers. Or his face," he told you, nipping over your pulse, but careful not to leave a mark. "Want you to forget all about that thing he does with his fucking tongue."

"You up for the challenge?" you teased before he growled.

"Up for it?" he asked as he slid a hand up to your chest, his thumb brushing over your nipple as you whimpered for him. "I'm gonna ruin you. That's a fucking promise."

"Do it. Please," you begged, bringing a hand down to brush your fingers along his thick cock. "Ruin me."

You already looked overwhelmed with pleasure, your eyes half lidded and mouth parted as Bucky moved his knee away and brought one of your legs around his hip. He wanted to fall to his knees and get a taste, but he'd claim you later with his tongue. "Not letting you go if I have you," he warned you, helping you stroke him.

"You better not," you said.

Bucky could've put his fingers under the water, but he brought them to his mouth to wet them before he slipped it between your legs. "You'll be mine," he said as he teased your hole.

"I'm already yours," you gasped as he carefully pushed a finger in and thrust slowly.

"Are you?" he asked, brushing his lips against your jaw as he slid a second finger in. "Fuck, you're tight. You may kill me."

"Yes, I'm yours. And I won't kill you, but I'll make you sorry if you don't fuck me," you huffed impatiently.

He chuckled as he removed his fingers, missing the heat of your body. He understood not wanting to wait any longer. He fucked his own hand enough nights as he thought of you to know that it wasn't enough.

"What if someone walks in?" he questioned, sucking his fingers clean with an obscene groan.

I can convince you to take a day off just to eat you out, right?

"I don't care!" you cried, your voice echoing in the stall as he moved the tip of his cock along your folds. You canted your hips as you tried to take him in and, fuck, if that didn't feed his ego. "If you don't fuck me, I swear I'll- AHH!"

He groaned as he slid home in one thrust, his eyes fluttering shut as your velvety walls gripped him like your life depended on it. He took a deep breath so he didn't lose it on the second thrust. Your perfect pussy was his new home. He never wanted to leave.

"Fuck, baby, you're so needy. I think you want everyone to see that you're mine now," he groaned as he caressed your thigh and drove in deep. Your cunt welcomed each slide as he kept your hips still with his other hand. "Gonna fuck you so hard you won't walk for a week. The way I should've from the start."

"Don't hold back," you moaned, clenching lightly around him. "I can take it."

Bucky couldn't remember ever fucking someone so possessively. "Pussy's even better than I imagined. Made for me. Made for me to wreck."

"Fuck, yes," you cried in response. "Touched myself thinking of you fucking me."

"You fucked your perfect pussy thinking of me?" he asked, imagining your fingers deep inside you. "Moaned my name?"

"Yes," you replied, biting your lip. "Fingers aren't as big as you."

Fuck. There's only so much a man can take.

"Look so beautiful taking my cock. Gonna be so good to you," he grunted, his wet hair falling in front of his eyes. If he had to guess, he probably looked unhinged. Feral. Out of control. "Not letting you go."

Instead of looking afraid, you reached up and lightly threaded your fingers through his hair as your leg shook against his hip. "I won't let you."

He kissed you, almost delirious as the rush of pleasure began to take over. You took his hard, fast thrusts, the symphony of your cries and his moans adding to the sound of wet, slapping skin. Later, he'd make love to you, kiss over every square inch of your beautiful body. He'd tell how crazy he is about you. How you made him happy again.

For now, he needed you to scream his name for the whole gym to hear.

"I'm close, Bucky," you panted into his mouth. "Please."

He doubled his efforts, thrusting so hard he lost his breath with each snap of his hips. "If you're really mine, come. Come for me."

You nearly sobbed his name as you quivered around him, a wave of wetness coating his cock as he kept up his pace and fucked you through your orgasm. "Good girl," he praised as you went limp in his hold.

It was a beautiful sight. Your dazed expression, your cunt clenching with a fresh wave of wetness as you whined. A fucking vision.

"I'm gonna…" he warned, his muscles tensing up as he got closer to the edge.

"Come in me," you begged, tightening around him again. "Please, I need it."

Fuck.

Bucky spilled hot and thick inside you with a guttural moan as he let the ecstasy within him explode, relieved that you didn't make him leave the haven of your body. He was careful not to crush you against the wall as he tried to catch his breath and process that what just happened was real. It wasn't a dream or fantasy. He had you in his arms under the warm water.

Could've had this ages ago if I spoke up.

His lips found yours, his kiss softer than the previous ones. He wasn't sure how long he held you like that, but it was everything he dreamt of and everything he denied himself. He wouldn't do that again.

"You okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No," you smiled, your breathing still a bit tagged. "And I think I can still walk."

He growled playfully as he rolled his hips, thankful that he had the strength to keep holding you up. His stamina was good for some things. "Come to movie night and I'll make sure you don't walk. You did say you needed to get laid."

"I did say that," you smiled, nipping his bottom lip. "I'll do a movie night if you take me out on a real date."

"This weekend since neither of us have plans. I'd be a bad boyfriend if I didn't take care of you, right?" he asked, kissing the corner of your mouth to avoid your surprised gaze.

Pushed my luck this far. I can go a bit further.

"It's a date," you smiled.

Bucky smiled back as he reached over to shut the water off, wishing he could blame the warmth for the blush in his cheeks. "Sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass."

"I forgive you," you said, your nose nudging his.

"I just wanted you to have better," he whispered.

You deserve the best.

You blinked away the leftover pleasure that lingered in your eyes. "What? You're already the best guy I know, handsome. No one is better than you," you said, the sincerity in your eyes making his heart twist. "I know you'll be the best boyfriend for me."

Thank you.

"Well, as the best boyfriend, I think I owe you one more orgasm before we go," he smirked, his hands roaming your body. "If you're up for it."

"I'll take whatever you give me," you said before you smirked back. "But maybe I should thank Nate since he's the one who got your head out of your ass."

"Don't you fucking dare," he said, kissing you breathless before you could say his name again.

Bucky was your boyfriend now and the only name he wanted to tumble from your beautiful lips was his own. He'd do whatever he could to make that happen. And be the man you deserve.

Natasha watched from the corner of the gym as you and Bucky emerged from the locker room minutes later. You had stars in your eyes and Bucky looked over the moon. Your legs wobbled slightly and the soldier easily slid an arm around your waist to steady you and walk you out. He even threw Nate a smirk and a wink when he got a glimpse of the two of you.

The redhead messaged the group chat for the bet once the two of you were out of sight. "Locker room. I won."

"What? I was so close!" Steve messaged back.

"Cheater!" Sam sent. "I know you got her ex transferred here. Don't deny it."

"I did not get him transferred. I just knew and didn't tell them he'd be here today. I expect my payment at dinner tonight."

The redhead put her phone away as she tried not to smile. Bucky just needed a push and she wasn't afraid to play a little dirty. But she'd keep her word and split the winnings.

The two of you deserved a nice date, after all.

Oh, Bucky. Whatever will we do with you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #beefy!bucky barnes

2K notes · View notes

thetriumphantpanda · 6 months

Text

I'll Crawl Home To Her | Marcus Pike

Fic Summary | Marcus Pike had been the man of your dreams until a promotion tore your away from him. Four years later, a wedding brings you back together, but it the bubble you've built over this one weekend going to crash and burn just like it did before?

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Bridesmaid F!Reader

Fic Warnings | Explicit. Exes to Lovers, themes of second chance love, references to food and alcohol, descriptions of a wedding, Marcus Pike being a dirty talking menace, talk of contraception, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, semi-public sex, oral sex (F), overstimulation if you squint, allusions to oral sex (M) and mentions of a facial cumshot, mutual pining, flirting, two idiots in love, a touch of angst, basically two idiots who never got over each other have a lot of sex over a weekend.

Word Count | 7.9K (I can only apologise lmfao)

Authors Note | So, two weekends ago I was a bridesmaid and spent the entire time messaging @undercoverpena about how I wished Marcus Pike would whisk me away to the bathroom, tell me how pretty I was and give me a good time.... and this is what's come of this. Entirely self-indulgent but we love that for me sometimes. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting or reblogging - I'd love to know what you think of it! And if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

Moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only - reader is a blank slate. Although if you're interested in the dress I chose for her - it's this.

Divider by the amazing @saradika

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Marcus is still out of breath as he clutches the champagne flute in his hand, chest heaving as his sucks in air to his lungs, “I didn’t mean to be so late.”

“Marcus, buddy, it’s fine,” His friend puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he knows Marcus gets anxious when things outside of his control happen, like the delay to his flight from D.C. to London, and then the delay in getting from London to the wedding venue, “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Marcus nods, chugging down half the champagne in one go, hoping it’ll calm his anxiety a little. He had cursed Mike and Cassie for choosing to have their wedding in England, but Mike’s family, most of them ageing now and unable to make the long trip to D.C. had insisted on it. As he looks around the large reception room, he muses internally to himself that it was beautiful. A huge room, semi-decorated for tomorrow’s reception and dinner. It’s a smaller affair tonight, immediate family and friends for the rehearsal dinner, but he can imagine that tomorrow, once all is said and done, it’ll be the perfect backdrop for their wedding.

“Where’s Cassie?” Marcus asks, looking around the room, finding a distinct lack of the bride and the bridal party Mike hadn’t shut up about over the last few months.

“She’s just sorting the last of the decorations for the ceremony room,” Mike explains, waving a hand to the waitress currently doing the round with a refilled tray of champagne, “She’ll be here soon.” He finished with a wink, which, although is odd, Marcus doesn’t question, just picks up another glass of champagne and stands talking to his friend and whoever is milling around offering their congratulations.

There’s a flurry of conversation that has Marcus turning around a few minutes later, he can see Cassie and her mother, who are pulled to the side by someone from the venue holding up two different types of ribbon, asking which one they want to drape around the columns and which one to tie around the chair backs. It’s not Cassie that Marcus is interested in though, it’s the bridesmaid that follows behind her.

He can feel his throat constrict, a small pit opening in his stomach that’s somewhere between the feeling of dread and excitement. He can feel the palms of his hands starting to get clammy, so he drains his glass and sets it down on the nearest table to avoid an accident. Then, he thinks he might actually pass out when you finally look at him, eyes searching his face and then the glimmer of recognition that you know exactly who he is, remember exactly the last time you’d seen him, and exactly what had happened when you had.

Your leg is bouncing underneath the dining table, food somewhat eaten regardless of the fact that it’s your favourite. You’ve dug half-moon shapes into the palms of your hands and bitten the inside of your mouth enough to taste blood.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” It’s Marcus, sitting across from you, plate cleared, completely oblivious as to what’s about to come.

“I got offered a promotion.” You tell him simply, running one hand up and down your opposite arm in an attempt to soothe yourself.

“Darling!” He exclaims, “That’s amazing!” He doesn’t move to get up, but reaches his hand out, palm up for you to take, which you do, letting his hand softly clasp yours in his own, “Why are you so upset then?”

Taking a deep breath in, biting your bottom lip, you decide it’s best to rip the band-aid off sooner rather than later, “It’s not here, Marcus,” You sigh, “The job is in D.C.”

The smile, the light of his eyes, everything on his face that had just seconds ago been showing joy, had faltered. Much like you imagine your face would have when you’d been offered the job. A significant pay rise, governmental opportunities, bigger clients, a shot at being a proper lawyer for once, but with the caveat that you had to uproot your comfortable Austin life for D.C. and with it, Marcus Pike.

“I don’t have to go,” You follow up with, “I haven’t accepted yet, I’ve got some time to think.”

You feel him squeeze your hand, his other palm coming out to rest on your wrist, slowly tracing the blue veins he can see there, “Look at me,” He asks softly, which you do, the tears that had been forming in your own eyes starting to spill down your cheeks when you find Marcus’ eyes glassed over too, “Baby, this is such an amazing opportunity, you can’t say no because of me.”

Because that’s what you would be doing. Marcus, brilliant, funny, intelligent Marcus, wouldn’t be able to follow you to D.C. There had been some talk about his work in the Art Crimes team with the higher ups, people who were impressed at his success rate, people who wanted to keep him here, send him off to California even. He was at too much of a crossroads to be able to follow you to D.C.

“I don’t want to lose you though,” You sniff, free hand coming to wipe away some of the tears that are falling from your eyes, “I love you.”

Marcus hums, finally pushes himself off his chair, letting the legs scrape across his kitchen floor, until he’s sat right in front of you, knees touching, his palms on the tops of your thighs, warm and soothing, “I love you too,” He says, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek, making sure you’re looking at him, “But this is what you’ve wanted, you’ve been working so hard baby and I’m not going to let you stay here just because of me.”

It’s killing you inside, because you want so badly to ask him to follow you. To drop everything and come to D.C. You’ve been together two years, you’re comfortable together, he makes you so happy, you’ve talked about moving in together, starting a life together, but you know deep down you’re asking him to do something unfair.

“So, I guess your stance on long-distance relationships hasn’t changed?” You ask, tone soft and sad, tears falling down your cheeks.

You watch him as his own tears fall, his hands clutching your own so tightly as he gives you a soft smile, “Baby, I wish I could say yes, I wish I could drop it all and follow you, or promise you we’d talk on the phone every day and see each other every weekend, but you know we can’t do it.”

Biting at your lip, you nod, because you know he’s right. You’re a lawyer, you barely have free time as it is - weekends more often than not spent sat on the couch with him, tapping away at your laptop whilst he looks over case files. It would never work.

Marcus leans forward, presses a kiss to your forehead, then pulls you into a hug. You clutch your hands to his back, inhaling the smell of him on his shirt , watching the light blue turn darker as it catches your tears.

“When do you go?” He asks quietly into the crook of your neck, soft kiss placed to the skin right after.

“A few weeks, probably.”

“Well, let’s enjoy them while we still can, hey?” You nod silently, “And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

“And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

Those words still echo in your ears four year later, like they have at various different points since you last saw Marcus Pike. Leaving had been hard. He’d helped you pack everything up, driven you to the airport, kissed you before security and promised he wouldn’t forget you. You’d text a for a few weeks before life dragged you in one direction and him in another. No-one had quite been able to live up to him either. Sure, you’d tried dating, seen people for a few months before deciding they weren’t quite the man who had almost been able to give you everything you ever wanted.

And now here he is, standing in front of you, pale as a ghost as if he’s about to keel over and have a heart attack. You want to run to him, to fling yourself into his arms and make sure he’s real. You want to press your lips to his, let him kiss you like he always used to, to clutch you to his body and whisper sweet things into your ear, but you have no idea what he’s been doing these past four years - for all you know, you could get closer and find a wedding band across his left finger.

It’s a blessing when Cassie’s hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you over to the side.

“Do you prefer the dusky rose or the blush pink?” She asks, holding up two ribbons that look identical to your eye.

You want to tell her does it really matter, they both look exactly the same. You want to tear your wrist away from her and go to Marcus, but instead you settle for a warm smile and “It’s your wedding Cass, you choose what you want.”

And when you turn around, looking back over to Mike, Marcus Pike is nowhere to be found. Like he was a mirage. A figment of your hopeful imagination. Something conjured up after your mother had set you down at the airport and said, “Bridesmaid’s always get lucky at weddings, you might find your own husband.”

When everyone is called to sit down for the rehearsal dinner, you jump at the opportunity to let Cassie sit down and eat, whilst you get pulled away by the staff to advise on which candles to use for the ceremony room and where exactly to place the flower arch for the best photos tomorrow. When you make it back, everyone is standing, milling around, getting drinks from the bar, which you decide you desperately need.

“A negroni, please.” You ask for after taking a few seconds to peruse the cocktail menu set out. The stronger the better.

“I see your tastes haven’t changed in the last few years.”

You’re pretty sure that if there was a mirror in front of you, the look of shock on your face would be comical, as Marcus Pike sidles up to the bar next to you. Up close, he’s just as handsome as he always had been, except now, he’s got a beard and more fine lines in the corners of his eyes, which means he’s been happy, smiling, whilst you’ve been gone. It makes your heart swell that he’s been happy.

“I wonder if yours have.” You counter, tilting your head towards the bartender who is waiting for him to order.

“Just a beer for now.” He smiles, but at you, not the bartender.

“That’ll be a no then.”

There’s a moment of silence between the both of you as you sip the cocktail given to you, and Marcus takes a swig of his beer. His left hand is wrapped around the bottle, no sign of the wedding ring you were convinced you’d find. You want to say something, anything, but when you go to open your mouth, he beats you to it.

“You look well.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Of all the things he could have chosen to say to you, you hadn't thought it would be that.

“So do you.” You compliment back.

There’s another silence, the two of you just looking at each other. You’re soaking him up, committing him to memory to replace the old Marcus you knew so well.

“Are you here alone?” You ask, playing with the glass in your hand.

You watch as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “Are you?”

“I asked you first, Agent Pike.”

He tilts his head towards his shoulder in a movement that says he’ll give you that one, “I’m here alone.”

You can’t help but smile a little, biting at your bottom lip to try and hide how pleased you are, “So am I.”

Looking up at him through your lashes, you notice the exact moment those brown eyes that you’re so used to getting lost in darken, watching you as you sip your drink, tip of your tongue jutting out to catch a drop from your bottom lip.

“Is your room completely over the top?” You ask, watching as he swallows deeply, “Because mine is, I’d love to know what the honeymoon suite must be like.”

“Depends what you mean by completely over the top?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Do you want me to show you?”

He doesn’t even respond. He sets his half-finished beer down on the bar, takes your almost-empty negroni from your hand and does the same. Then he’s taking hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together like he always did, dragging you out of the room. You turn to find Cassie and Mike, looking at you both as you have to jog to keep up with Marcus’ pace. Both of them are winking, smiling, and Mike even throws a thumbs up your way. You can feel heat rising on your cheeks as you turn your head away from them.

“Which floor?” Marcus asks then you reach the grand staircase in the lobby.

“Second.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand, but takes the stairs two at a time, meaning by the time you reach the second floor, you’re out of breath from running behind him, trying to keep up.

“Which room?”

It’s your turn to lead him now, stepping in front of him to walk down the hallway to room 212. You fish the keycard from the back pocket of your jeans, wasting no time in pushing the door open when the tiny light turns green.

It’s dark inside, but you don’t care. Marcus Pike pins you against the wall, his thigh between your legs, both hands on your waist, and then his lips are on yours. The way he kisses hasn’t changed a bit. His mouth slants over yours, softly at first, but when you open your lips against his, hands clutching at the collar of his shirt, it’s just like you remember from all those years ago. He tastes the same, mint from the gum he always chews, the tang of the beer on his tongue, and that distinct taste that’s just him.

He swallows a groan from you as your pitch your hips down, denim rubbing on denim as he devours your mouth. His hands on your waist trail down just a little, finding the top of your jeans, floating under your shirt just a little to touch the bare skin underneath. His hands are warm and strong as they start guiding you to move against his thigh as his tongue works against yours.

Marcus pulls away from your mouth just as a particularly breathy moan leaves your mouth. It makes you both stop. Stand still. Eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room as you both realise exactly what’s happening. You know you should stop, talk about what’s clearly about to happen, but when did talking ever help anything.

“Don’t think about it,” Marcus sighs, leaning down to trail kisses along your jaw, “We talk after.”

“We talk after.” You say, mainly to the room more than anything else.

Your hands are still clutching at his shirt when his fingers find the button on your jeans. Still as adept at it as he’d always been, he pops the button open and pulls down the zipper, letting his hand trail down, settling across the lace of your underwear, cupping your pussy, letting his fingers trace along skin through lace.

A hiss leaves your mouth as you work your body in time with the slow, teasing movements of Marcus’ hand, “You’ve changed,” You manage to breathe out, your hand coming to the back of his neck to pull his mouth nearer to yours, “When you were desperate for me you’d never tease.”

You can feel his lips smile against the skin of your neck where he’s tracing wet kisses along the skin, hand still feather-light between your legs, “I’ve learnt to be more patient, honey.”

“And if I asked you not to?”

“In all the years I knew you, never once did you beg for it.” He pulls back, your eyes now accustomed to the dark, able to see him better, his voice is low, “Unless you’ve changed, you’ll have to put up with it.”

You grasp his cheeks in your palms, his hand still teasing you, pull his attention to you fully, “Marcus Pike, I swear to all that is holy that if you do not spread me out on my bed and fuck me in the next five minutes, I will die.”

He makes a ‘tsk’ sound, his head shaking in your hands, “That’s not begging for it honey,” He coos, “You gotta ask nicely for it.”

You let out a grumble of frustration, but you have to admit, this new version of the man you knew so well before is enticing. You can feel the way wetness is settling between your thighs, you’re sure if he dipped his fingers down he’d have some smart comment about how soaked you were for him already.

So you swallow your pride, you know it’ll be worth it in the end, “Please.”

“Good girl.”

It all happens in a flurry. One moment you’re against the wall, the next your back is against the mattress, Marcus’ hips pressed to yours as his hands work to push your shirt up and off your body. Your back hits the mattress again and his mouth is on you almost instantly, his lips trailing down your sternum, between the valley of your breasts. Pushing himself back on his knees, he brings his hands to the cups of your bra, pulling them down. Your nipples pebbling against the cold of the air.

His lips are back on you almost immediately, nipple enveloped into the warmth of his mouth, tip of his tongue flicking at it, making your back arch off the bed, pressing further into his mouth. Your hand comes to tangle in the curls at the back of his head, anchoring him to your body. As his mouth works across your chest, you can’t quite believe what’s happening to you. The man of your dreams, the person you always thought you were destined for, back, right here between your thighs, the bulge in the front of his jeans all too familiar to you.

Head tipped back in pleasure, you breathe out into the air, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He tears off your breast with a wet pop, looking up at you through his lashes, mouth kissing down your body, across the soft of your tummy, he taps at your sides, lifting your hips up to drag your jeans and underwear down your legs, flung behind him and forgotten when you plant the flat of your feet onto the bed and let your knees fall open.

Marcus isn’t a religious man, he never has been, but knelt between your thighs, hands flying to rid himself of his clothes, watching as you gingerly trail your hand between your thighs, eyes on him as you play with your clit, he thinks he might have to start believing. As he stands to take the last of his clothes off, standing at the foot of the bed, naked with his cock in his hand, watching your face, he thanks the Lord for whatever mischief they had to concoct to get you back here with him.

He crawls back up your body, kissing from ankle to thigh, settling himself between your thighs, cock sliding through your slick folds as he lays his body down against yours, one of his hands slipping under your neck, cradling the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek, moving your face to look right into his eyes. He’s so fucking close to you, lips barely a hairs breadth from your own.

“I have to be inside you,” He pants against your mouth, “I promise I'll spend hours between your thighs later baby, but I have to be inside you.”

He doesn’t give you any time to respond, just shifts his hips a little, sinking himself into your aching cunt. You arch up into him, moaning against his mouth as he stills. The hand clutching at your cheek trails down your neck, thumb flicking against your nipple as it travels to rest on your hip.

“Stop squirming,” He pleads, “Please.. Just stay still a minute.”

He feels so right, nestled inside your pussy. The weight of his body pressed against yours takes you right back to all the nights before, locked away in his Austin apartment in the dead of night, making each other feel good, making promises at the height of your combined pleasure to each other that never materialised. You can feel tears settle in your eyes as he starts moving, pulling himself out of you slowly, pushing back in even slower.

Marcus leans down, kissing the salty tears from your cheeks, shushing you, “Don’t cry baby,” He whispers into your ear, “I’ve got you now.”

Your hands are clutching at his shoulders, nails digging small, half-moon shapes into his skin there. He feels just as incredible moving inside you as he always did, but there’s something settling in your tummy, the feeling that you knew so well with him, that you’ve only really known with yourself since.

“I can feel you baby,” Marcus groans into your ear as the thrusts of his cock get a little faster, a little harder, “Clenching all perfectly around me,” He takes hold of one of your wrists, dragging it between the both of you, resting it right where you need it, “I won’t last baby,” He admits, “Touch yourself and we’ll do it together?”

So you do, you rub tight, precise circles over your clit as Marcus pushes himself up, takes your thighs in his palms, pushing your legs back as far as he can. The change in angle makes you cry out as he really starts fucking you now. The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin against yours, your whimpers and his groans. You can feel the tightening coil across your abdomen, breath hitching in your throat, you’re so fucking close to coming undone on him.

“Marcus,” You whine, “I’m gonna-” You trail off as he shifts a little more, pressing your legs further back, cock hitting that unholy sweet spot inside you, “Gonna come.”

“Go on baby,” He encourages, “I’ll be right behind you.”

And that’s how it ends. Eyes shut so tightly you can feel tears pooling at the corners, cunt clenching around his cock as you cry out his name. It’s so familiar, the way it feels, the way he sounds, like no time has passed at all and you’re exactly the same as you’d both been four years ago. He’s pounding into you as your body convulses underneath, thighs shaking and toes curling as his hips start to stutter.

“Where?” He manages to choke out, his tone reminiscent of all those times before when he was holding on, teetering on the edge, wanting to know what you wanted.

“I’m s-safe,” You manage to choke out, head reeling from your own orgasm, “The pill.”

He doesn’t need to hear anymore, finally giving in, knowing you’ve fallen apart for him, he’s groaning your name into the dark, you can feel him spilling into you, claiming you, marking you as his own in a way only the two of you could ever understand. He lets go of your thighs, letting your legs drop back into comfort as he slowly drags himself from you, collapsing onto the bed next to you.

There’s a few moments of silence. Your arm is draped across your face, chest rising and falling as you try to suck in enough air to calm your breathing, Marcus doing the same across the bed. You roll over, putting yourself on your side so you can look at him. He’s led on his back, head turned to look at you in the dull light of the room - the moonlight through the window the only thing illuminating the two of you. He reaches out, traces your face with his hand.

“I can't believe you’re real.” He speaks softly, rolling over to face you, pulling your warm body to his.

“I know we said we’d talk after,” You whisper, hand trailing over his waist to rest across his back, “But can we just stay like this for a while?” It’s a soft plead, you don’t want to be reminded that this was probably a bad idea, you want to hold this man in front of you and forget that in a few short days it’ll all be over, he’ll go back to wherever he is now, and you’ll go back to D.C. lonelier than ever.

“I’ll stay here as long as you’ll let me, honey.”

Marcus, against his better judgement, stays with you all night. You don’t talk. You curl up into his side, settle against his body as he wraps his arms around you. It’s inevitable that he casts his mind back to how things used to be. To the history you share with each other. He still, to this day, hasn’t stopped thinking about you, about what would have been if you’d stayed. Would you be married? Probably, he thinks. He’d thought of it often towards the end, before your promotion. Stopped outside jewellery shops, tried to imagine which kind of ring you’d want – he’d even slipped one of your rings onto his own finger, figuring out where it stopped so he could pick the right size when the time came. Would you have children? He isn’t sure, neither of you had ever spoken about it, you’d never expressed a want to have them, but he’s certain if you’d have asked, he’d have given them to you.

He falls asleep, waking up hours later, darkness still pervading. He turns on his side, spooning his front to your back. You’re half-awake when you press yourself back into him, bring your hand up to clutch at his head as he slips inside you once more, his hand holding your thigh up. He breathes into your ear, whispers filth to you as he rocks his hips against you. When you feel his teeth trail over your shoulder, he chuckles when you tell him off.

“I can’t walk down the aisle with bruises on my shoulders, Marcus.”

It’s soft, and he tips you over the edge, feeling you clench around him as his fingers trace circles over your clit, following just behind you, filling you up once more. He doesn’t pull away from you, just settles your thigh back down, resting himself inside of you as you both fall back to sleep.

Then, he’s awake before your alarm. He wakes you with a kiss to your forehead, tells you to go back to sleep when you protest and try and coax him back to the warmth of your sheets. He has to shower he says, has to help Mike get ready, but he’ll be waiting for you, watching you all day. Marcus smiles, really smiles, when you curl over back onto your side, soft breaths and mumbles as you fall back to sleep, and as he walks to his own room and stands waiting for the shower to warm, there’s a feeling of content that spreads through him – should he have fucked you last night? Probably not. Should he have encouraged you to talk more? Probably yes. He knows he’s got his cards hidden, he’s not letting on that this might not have to just exist here, but he’ll keep that to himself for just a little longer.

“So,” Cassie smirks from her place in the make-up chair, artist flitting around her, pressing all number of products into her face, “You and the groomsman?”

“Shut up,” You mutter to her, trying not to scratch at your face, make-up already settling uncomfortably across your skin, “A momentary lapse of judgement.”

She hums, and then moves her focus back to the make-up artist who is tilting her face to put on some blush, “You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” She says to you as you pass her a mimosa, “I know that was Marcus. The Marcus.”

There’s a moment where you feel like a deer in headlights, like you’ve been caught being up to no good, even though you know that’s not the case. Then you turn slowly to her, eyebrow raised, and see her smirking, much to the chagrin of the make-up artist who urgently wants to get her lipstick on her so she can move onto the final bridesmaid.

“He’s Mike’s friend, they went to school together, see each other quite often these days – apparently he always talks about a girl from Austin, no-one could ever compare, he’s tried moving on, done this, done that, but always came back to thinking about the one who got away,” She stops talking to take a drink, “Which sounded oddly familiar to someone else I know.”

She’s not wrong really – Cassie had been a lifeline when you’d moved to D.C. a work colleague turned best friend, who has been the shoulder to cry on whenever dates had gone badly, or even when they’d been good, but you just couldn’t get Marcus Pike off your brain. She told you, like most good friends would, that it would take time, you’d find someone right for you, someone who would take your mind right off Marcus, but it never happened.

“You did this on purpose!” You accuse, but its friendly, because really, her and her soon-to-be husband have only done what you had always wanted to do yourself, pick up the phone, no matter how long it has been and tell the man you still loved him.

“Of course we did,” She chuckles, “Don’t think about it too much,” She adds, “Just enjoy this today and most of all, behave yourself.”

When Cassie walks down the aisle, it’s not her that Marcus is looking at – it’s you. He hadn’t thought it possible for him to find you more beautiful than he had before, but in your dark green dress, slit cut into the fabric to show off one of your legs as you walk, dress cut perfectly to sit on all the curves of your body that he always did love, he can’t deny you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He spends the entire ceremony making eyes at you, smirking when you meet his gaze. He wants to tell you how lovely you look, lean down and plant a kiss to your lips in front of everyone, but he doesn’t get a chance until cocktail hour, once you’ve had your pictures taken and Cassie has insisted on you finally having a drink and enjoying your day instead of flapping about whether she needs anything from you.

“Has anyone told you how beautiful you look today?” He asks, hand settling on your waist as you lean against the bar waiting for your drink.

“Funnily enough, it’s not me most people have been looking at.” You quip back, taking the margarita from the bartender when it’s handed to you.

“I’ve been looking at you.”

“I know,” You smirk, “Pretty sure I ruined my panties stood at the top of the aisle.”

“Because the ceremony moved you so much?”

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about your face between my thighs, actually.”

He looks exactly like he always used to when you flirt with him like this. Eyes low and dark, mouth slightly ajar like he can’t quite believe you’ve just been so forward. He’s not thinking straight anymore, and much like he had done last night, he grips around your wrist and starts dragging you from the reception room, this time there are considerably more people so you manage to slip out unnoticed.

Instead of heading up the stairs, taking you to your room or his, he turns left down a hallway, tearing open the door to one of the bathrooms. It’s a single stall, lock clicking behind him. You press your back against the wall, setting your drink down on the sink.

Marcus takes three steps towards you, hand slipping around your waist, pulling you flush against his body, lips so close that you can feel his breath on your skin.

“Do you know how sinful you’ve looked all day?” He asks, “Walking around looking all innocent, but I know you’ve been begging to get fucked all day, haven’t you?” You whine at him in response, trying to chase his mouth as he pulls back, “Don’t think I didn’t see you rubbing your thighs together during the ceremony.”

“It’s only because you wouldn’t stop looking at me.”

His hand finds the skin of your thigh, the slit of your dress making it easy for him to trail up to the hem of your panties.

“If I put my fingers on you,” He breathes, “Will you be wet?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You cock your head to the side, biting your lip as you look at him, his hand pulling your panties to the side, thick fingers slipping between your folds.

“Baby,” He moans, finally taking your bottom lip between his, nipping your skin with his teeth a little before he pulls away, fingers slipping inside you, pulling a groan from your throat, “Soaked for me?”

“Always, Marcus.”

He drags his fingers from you, spins you around, and reaches down to bring your palms up to rest against the wall in front you. He puts his hands on your hips, dragging your ass backwards until you can feel him through his trousers. His hands shuck your dress up to your waist and instead of tearing your panties off, he pushes them to the side. You look over your shoulder at him, as much as you can, and watch as he undoes his belt, pulls the zipper of his trousers down and reaches in, pulling his cock out. His trousers are pushed down just enough to let him free himself, and you don’t think you’ve seen such a beautiful sight in your life, than Marcus Pike with his fist around his cock, running his hand up and down himself as he moves to nudge the head of his cock at your soaked core.

Unlike last night, he isn’t gentle when he pushes into you. He’s buried inside your cunt in seconds, setting a pace that punches the air from your lungs. You know that even though you’re locked in here, away from the party, there’s still every chance someone is going to walk past, try the door handle, and hear exactly what’s going on in here, so you’re trying your best to keep the noise to a minimum.

“Needed you so badly, baby,” Marcus chokes out behind you, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have his fingerprints embedded onto your skin, “Always so pretty for me, aren’t you?”

He’s hitting that sweet spot inside you, over and over again, and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. You feel one of his hands trail up your spine through the material of your dress, coming to rest with a grip around the nape of your neck, his fingers itching to slide up into your hair and grip it.

“You can’t,” You plead, “Don’t mess my hair up.”

“I won’t baby.” He pants out from behind you, trailing his hand down just a little so he’s not tempted to take a fistful of it to pull you back, arch you into him even more.

It’s fast and it’s hard, everything Marcus never really used to be. He liked to take his time, spread you out and have you crying for him before he slipped inside you, slowly, watching every contort of pleasure on your face. You think you like this new version of him, the one so desperate to have you he couldn’t make it up the stairs, couldn’t even pull your panties down your legs.

“Marcus,” You moan out, “Please.”

“What’s that, baby?” He asked, mouth right by your ear, “You begging for something?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“What do you want?”

“Make me come?”

You think maybe he might try and tease you some more, but mercifully he takes the hand he’s got resting on your hip and snakes it down your body, letting his fingers find your clit - he had always been good at that. He drags the gathered slick where he can, cock still moving into you, pulling whimpers and moans whenever you feel his skin slap against yours, circles your clit quickly with the pad of his finger. You can feel your walls tightening around him, your thighs starting to shake as he continues doing exactly what he’s doing.

It’s no secret to either of you that making you come always took time. He’d never shamed you for it, always been more than happy to do whatever it took, for as long as it took, to get you there. But the mix of desperation for him, elation that he’s waltzed right back into your life, and the fact he’s fucking you in a public bathroom, have that coil tightening inside you quicker than ever.

“Can feel you getting tight around me baby,” He groans into your ear, “You gonna let go for me?”

You don’t have time to tell him yes. The tight coil snaps inside you, your eyes closed so tightly you’re sure the make-up around your eyes is dragging down your cheeks on tears. You can keep your voice down now as you flutter around his cock, you cry out his name, feeling his hands holding onto your hips to keep you steady as your legs threaten to fall out from underneath you.

You’re only half aware of him speaking into your ear, telling you he’s close. You can feel him start to pull himself out of you, so you reach behind you quickly, fingernails digging into the part of his thigh you can reach to keep him inside you.

“I swear to god if you get cum on my dress Pike, I’ll kill you.”

He lets out a deep, throaty chuckle behind you, slams himself back into you, “You just want an excuse for me to come inside you, don’t you?” He hisses into your ear, teeth nipping at the skin behind your ear, “You just have to ask nicely for it.”

“Please, Marcus, please.”

Never one to deny you, he does, having held out as long as he could, he thrusts once, twice and then he’s moaning your name into your ear. You can feel him spilling inside of you, filling you up, then you can feel him dripping down your thigh when Marcus starts pulling away from you, not quite quick enough to put your panties back on. He tells you to keep still, fumbling behind him for some paper he can use to clean your thighs up.

He speaks to you as he lets the material of your dress fall back down over your legs, “Walking around full of me for the rest of the night.” He coos as you turn around, reaching out to pull his mouth to yours in a chaste kiss.

You stay like that for a moment, both attempting to fix the others clothes. Marcus brings his thumb to his mouth, letting his tongue jut out to wet it, before he drags it under your eye, getting rid of the worst of the black marks he’s caused.

You reach behind him, unlock the door, but take hold of his hand as you push the door open. Thankfully there’s no-one waiting outside to use the bathroom as you drag him back down towards the party.

It’s late. Or early depending on how you look at it. Marcus had dragged you from the dance floor at midnight, walked you slowly up to his room instead of yours. He’d helped you out of your dress, let you shower and wash yourself clean, then, before you could put your robe on and insist on going to sleep, he’d taken your hand, led you to the chair near the balcony doors and he’d made good on his promise of last night to spend hours with his face between your legs.

“I can’t,” You whine, Marcus hand’s pinning your legs open, his tongue flicking against your clit, “It’s too much.”

He pulls off you just enough to speak, “Believe in yourself baby,” He says, sinking two fingers into you, curling them upwards, “I know you can, just one more for me.”

Your whole body feels like its on fire. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s made you come tonight. There had been a small reprieve when you’d begged to suck his cock, Marcus obliging, painting your face and your tongue, before he settled right back to his knees. It’s almost as if he thinks if he stops you’ll disappear.

Your fingers are tangled in his hair, battling between tugging his face closer and pulling it away as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the added pressure along with the flicking of his tongue setting your skin on fire even more than before. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck, rivulets of sweat gathering at various points across your body as Marcus tips you over the edge once more.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, body feeling boneless as your whole body convulses at his touch. Almost like he knows, he pulls himself away from you gently, knowing that any more would be too much, saving you the need to beg him to stop. He presses soft kisses to the skin of your tummy, kissing up your body until he’s sitting up on his knees, kissing into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on him.

Marcus clambers to his feet, takes hold of your hand and pulls you to your feet, guiding you over to the bed to settle you under the sheets, the air peppering your sweaty skin with goosebumps. It’s a sad realisation that you have to go home tomorrow, that the bubble you’ve caught yourself up in over the past few days is about to burst. You think this might break your heart even more than the first time around.

“What are we going to do?” You ask against the skin of his chest as he pulls you into him.

“What do you mean?” He asks back, kiss pressed lightly to your forehead.

“With us, after this?” Your fingers are tracing over his skin, trying to map the feeling of him before he leaves.

“Well, I thought maybe we could go for dinner sometime?”

You look up at him, face contorted in confusion, “You’re going to come all the way from Austin to take me for dinner?”

“No baby,” He chuckles a little, “I don’t live in Austin anymore, I live in D.C.”

You push yourself up in bed, one hand on the mattress to keep yourself upright, looking down at Marcus, who reaches up to cup your cheek in his hand, thumb rubbing soft lines across your skin, “Since when?”

“Two years?” He offers, “I would have-” He trails off a little, “I would have told you but I wasn’t in a great place when I first moved, had no idea what your life would have even looked like either, I didn’t just want to turn up out of the blue if you’d moved on, found someone else.”

Your hand comes up to clutch at the wrist of the arm cradling your face, “I’ve waited so long for you,” You sigh, “I tried, tried to find someone else, but none of them were ever you Marcus.”

“I tried too,” He admits, because Lord knows he did, and for what? “I promise I’ll tell you everything one day, but right now, I want to fall asleep with you right here.”

You settle back down in bed, curling up against his side, arm draped over his waist, “Where in the city do you live?” You ask, sleep starting to make your eyes heavy.

“I’m on 4th street, in Petworth.”

You can’t help but laugh, because of course he fucking does. Marcus Pike has been living four streets over from you for the past two fucking years.

“You’ve been living four streets over from me for two years, Marcus.”

He runs his hands up and down your spine, gently, soothing you, “Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?” He asks softly, “I can be at your front door in five minutes.”

“You want to be my booty call, Marcus Pike?”

“If that’s what you want,” He speaks, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

“What are you doing Wednesday night?”

“Nothing, as far as I’m aware.”

“How about you take me on a first date?” You offer, “Let’s learn each other all over again and take things from there?”

Marcus colts your chin up to his face with a finger, leaning down and giving you the softest kiss you think you’ve ever received, “I would love nothing more.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike Smut #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x F!reader #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #the mentalist #the mental illness is winning #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #Marcus Pike angst #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike The mentalist

506 notes · View notes

celtic-crossbow · 6 months

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore

*Click here to be added to taglists.

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

You were doing up the buttons on your flannel when you heard Daryl grumbling behind you.

“I hate rubbers.”

You chuckled, putting your hands on the nape of your neck and pushing outward to coax your hair out of the shirt. The man had done as you asked all those weeks ago, returning to the next meetup with condoms in hand. You had left it up to him to dispose of them afterward, earning an amusing curl of his lip.

“So,” you began, plopping down on the ground, “guess what.”

Daryl zipped up his own pack and shrugged it over his shoulders, raising a brow at you with his usual expression of indifference. “We gon’ start cuddlin’ after too?”

“Shut up. It’s not just every day conversation, asshole. I’m late.”

“Ya got a curfew now?” He scoffed, snatching his crossbow up off the ground to slide the strap over his right shoulder.

“No, idiot. I mean, my period is late.”

“How ya even keep up with tha’ now?” He was still standing, fingers of his left hand tapping nervously against his hip while he chewed on the skin of his right thumb. Uncomfortable again.

“I always kept a little date book in my bag before things went to shit. Just started marking off days when we came up here. Hoping this would all end and life could go back to…well, being life.” You picked up a twig and started breaking small sections off, not really wanting to look at him. “I’m 6 days late, which is pretty odd for me.”

“I don’ need the details. D’ya need a test or somethin’?”

“I will if it doesn’t come soon, yeah.” You tossed the stick down and got to your feet, dusting off your hands on your thighs. “Probably should do it next week if it’s still not happening.”

The man was a ball of anxiety, fidgeting and shifting his weight from foot to foot. You watched him warily, waiting for him to bolt and that would be that. If you were pregnant, you’d be in it alone.

“I’ll make a run n’ see if I can find one.” He finally said after a few minutes of unnerving silence, shouldering his string of squirrels. You blinked at him, eyes as big as saucers. “Wha’? Said we’d deal with it n’ I meant it.”

“I’ll go with you then.”

“Nah, I got it. Jus’ bring it next week.” He sniffed, looking down at his boots as he kicked at the ground. “Ain’t no reason fer ya ta go out in that mess.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re being protective.”

He scoffed, scrunching his nose in a way you could almost say was adorable. “Jus’ don’ need ya trippin’ me up.”

Pursing your lips, you crossed your arms over your chest, deciding whether or not to argue with him. It was something that involved the both of you. You’d feel horrible if something happened to him while he was trying to take care of it alone. And you’d never know. He’d just never show up again, leaving you to wonder if he had simply bailed or—

“I’m going too.”

“No, ya ain’t.” He snapped while you picked up your rifle and the three rabbits you’d bagged. You started walking, leaving him trailing behind you with his stomping feet and flared nostrils. “Ya ain’t goin’!”

“You gonna stop me?” You asked, not missing a step. You heard him pause before his boots moved faster to catch back up with you. “I’m a big girl, Dixon. I can handle myself.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

You only encountered two geeks at the base of the mountain. Daryl took out one with a bolt between the eyes while you handled the other with your hunting knife. His scowl was thoroughly in place by the time you were cleaning the dark blood from the blade with the bottom of your shirt. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t have to. You knew it was because you had to get close to the corpse to kill it. You couldn’t risk firing your gun when so many others could close by.

The two of you were crouched in the bushes, the pharmacy across the street in the little town in clear view. Three geeks shuffled aimlessly in different directions, making it difficult to find a way straight through.

“Maybe one of us could distract them?” You suggested. “I could go out over there, make some noise and draw them off while you go inside.” You looked over to find him staring at you like you’d sprouted a second head. “What?”

“Yer the one tha’ knows whatcha need in there. I’ll handle the geeks.”

You really couldn’t argue with that. There were so many different tests for pregnancy, ovulation, and other things, Daryl would probably bring out the entire shelf and still not have what you needed. With a nod, you watched him make his way down the ditch, staying low. His eyes met yours briefly and, with a jerky nod, he left the cover of the foliage and whistled, waving his arms.

You waited for an opening, nearly leaping out before two more corpses stumbled from the alley next to the pharmacy. “Fuck.” Daryl was going to be sorely outnumbered. Something in your gut twisted, the strong urge to stay and help the redneck, ensure he was safe, before you entered the pharmacy. He’d have your head if you dared. With another curse, you left your hiding place and dashed across the street, your steps that of a hunter— swift and silent.

The pharmacy was blessedly clear, a few geeks sprawled out between aisles, clean holes in their skulls. Daryl had been there before. “So, this is where you got the condoms. You reckless son of a bitch.” You smirked, the knowledge that fucking you was enough fun to have him scurrying down the mountain for the means to continue.

You grabbed two of each kind of test, deeming labels and specifications unnecessary when Daryl was outside fighting the undead to keep them off your back. The boxes were quickly shoved into your bag, and you were creeping back toward the door. Just as your hand touched the glass, a geek stumbled by. You quickly ducked and moved to the side, peeking around the magazine stand to ensure it had passed before you pushed the door open.

There were at least 7 of them on the far end of the street, walking toward nothing you could see. Where was Daryl? You barely lifted a foot to step off the curb when an arm snaked around your waist and a hand clamped down over your mouth.

“S’me. S’jus’ me.” Daryl whispered against your ear. Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you forced his hand away from your face and spun around to give him a shove.

“You scared the shit out of me!” You whisper-yelled.

“Got whatcha need?” He was already ushering you toward the trees across the street. You gave a sharp nod and ducked into the bushes, finally releasing a breath when you could look back and no longer see any trace of the town.

“Well, that was fun.”

Daryl snorted beside you, adjusting the strap of his crossbow on his shoulder. Once your heart rate slowed, you were able to settle back into your appreciation for the forest. So far, the turn had been unable to strip that away from you. The wildlife continued to flourish, seeing no difference between the dead and the living. Plants would grow. Flowers would bloom. Seasons would change.

In some ways, life would go on.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You turned to find Daryl facing away from you. With a quick look around, you realized how long the two of you had really been walking. It was time to part ways. “Oh. Right. Heading back now?”

“Nah. Gon’ see if I can bag a deer. So, ‘nother day or two.” He was gnawing at his thumb again.

“Right. Well. Three days, midday?” He nodded his agreement, those blue eyes of his flitting to your pack and back to you. You smiled through a strange feeling, pushing it down as he started to walk away. “See you then.”

“See ya.”

“Hey, daddy.” You smiled, finding your father sitting by the small fire when you parted the last bit of foliage to enter the camp.

“Peanut, you’re back late. I was gettin’ worried!” He shifted in his wheelchair to sit straighter, smile wide and arms open. You leaned in for his offered hug, holding up the rabbits when you separated.

“Got some meat for tomorrow.” You smiled for only a moment before looking around for the rest of your family. “Did they seriously leave you out here alone?”

“I’m fine, darlin’. Told ‘em to go on to bed and that I’d rather wait up for you.”

You gave him a pointed look, laying the rabbits aside to prep later. “Well, I’m here now. You should get some sleep.”

“It’s early yet. Tell me how it was out there.”

You sat down in one of the fold-out chairs, toeing at the rocks surrounding the small fire. “It’s quiet. It’s always quiet.”

“You see any of ‘em?” He asked, a hint of concern in his tone. You shook your head. “I worry about you going out all alone.”

“I can handle myself, daddy.”

“I know you can, peanut. I just…wish you didn’t have to. It’s a parent’s job to worry about their kids, you know.” He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“You’re gonna give yourself gray hair with all the worrying. Oh shit, I think I see some from all the way over here!” You laughed with him for a while longer before the fire burned out and the camp was dark.

You bolted upright in your sleeping bag, still groggy and not really remembering why it was you were awake in the first place. Rubbing your eyes, you sat there for a moment before deeming it time to get the day started. The sun was barely up but your uncles were already stirring if the sounds outside the tent were anything to go by. Your aunt had taken watch several hours earlier so she’d probably be sleeping now.

Scratching at your scalp with a yawn, you glanced over at your open pack, the top corner of a box peeking out from beneath your jacket. You sighed, knowing you would need to take the test. You still hadn’t bled and you’d be meeting Daryl the next day. You groaned and grabbed your clothes, slipping on everything haphazardly while your uncles banged and clanged on everything they possibly could outside. Shrugging on your jacket, you unzipped the tent.

“Jesus, some of us are still half asleep! Uncle James, could you put on some coffee for daddy before—”

Just as you began to crawl from your tent, a geek came barging in, teeth clicking and rotting fingers grabbing. You screamed and scrambled backwards, kicking at the corpse while your hand searched blindly for your knife. Another clumsily shoved its way inside, pinning one of your legs and leaving you just far enough from your weapon that your fingertips brushed the handle.

Somewhere outside, your father was screaming.

Chapter 3

412 notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 2 months

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (15)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, mention of sex, violence, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

For a long time after her uncle had left her chamber she could not recover; she sat on the table top exactly where he had left her, staring dully at the floor where the rolled up parchment lay, feeling his warm spend running down her buttocks. She thought about what was written inside, about what her stepfather really wanted.

I wish to speak alone with you and my daughter, nephew, tonight at the former Vhagar liege. You know the place. Come, if you dare.

She closed her eyes, swallowing loudly, calming herself slowly, feeling that her body was still trembling with terror. Never before in her life had she seen him in such a state, so distraught and broken, and she had no idea what she should do, what she could say to make him believe her – it seemed to her that although he had finally stopped crying, he didn't trust her.

She herself wasn't sure if meeting Daemon was a hope or a trap.

She finally slid off the table, settled on the floor and hissed quietly, clenching her eyelids, feeling the discomfort between her thighs after how brutal their approach had been immediately after their nuptials and now. She sighed quietly, moving slowly ahead and lay back on her bed, staring blankly at her door, recalling in her mind the conversation between her and his mother.

When she and Haleana walked into her chamber, she was already waiting for her.

Dressed as usual in emerald green, she stood up, her hands folded over her womb, the cuticles around her nails plucked and reddened. She looked at her with her big dark eyes, in her gaze pain, regret, remorse, but she wasn't sure what they were caused by.

"So it's true." She whispered in disbelief, looking at her cut lips, at her hand wrapped in a light cloth. She lifted her chin higher, not answering; Helaena stood behind her, silent.

"Gods, what have you done." She sighed, falling helplessly into the chair, covering her face with her hand, as if all that was happening was overwhelming her.

"There's no turning back now, then." She said at last, more to herself than to her, lowering her hand, looking ahead of her with empty, tired eyes. Seeing her bent, thoughtful figure, she lowered her gaze, unsure of what she should say.

After her guards poured the moon tea down her throat, she had nothing more to convey to her.

She was only her husband's mother to her, nothing more.

"He forced you to do this?" She asked at last, and she looked at her surprised, wrinkling her eyebrows and grunted loudly.

"No."

Silence fell again, longer this time. Alicent looked down at her knees, shaking a fleck of dust from her gown, sniffing quietly.

"When Viserys announced your betrothal, I was heartbroken. When Aemond agreed, I thought he did it so that his father would finally notice him. So that he would finally hear any kind word from him. Then Rhaenyra took you away and Aemond declared that he didn't want to see you. I thought it would be better that way. I was sure you had both moved on during those eight years." She said in a trembling voice and looked at her, shaking her head.

"I shouldn't have made you do this. I shouldn't have made you drink moon tea."

She sighed quietly, twisting to the other side, thinking about his mother telling her that he really didn't know anything about what she was going to do, that he was furious when he found out, yet that they had made a mistake by marrying each other that would cost them everything.

For some reason her words did not move her.

She was not afraid of Lord Baratheon's wrath or his daughter's disappointment when they finally found out what had happened.

The truth was that some part of her had been eagerly awaiting it.

Now, however, she couldn't think of anyone but her father, and although she knew it was Harwin Strong who had brought her into this world, Daemon was the one who had truly raised her.

She knew his unpredictable nature and was afraid of what he might do.

She became concerned when her uncle did not return for a long time, guessing that he was now discussing about the letter with his family. She was sure that his mother, grandfather and Criston Cole would be convincing him that it was a trap and suggesting that he let go of the idea that their marriage was in force – that she was a spy and if he backed out of it now, things could still be put right.

For some reason she felt that even if he had doubts about her loyalty, he would not disavow their marriage.

She shuddered when he finally stepped into her chamber – the sun was leaning lazily towards the horizon, if they were going to make it, they had to leave now. The door closed behind him and he stopped in the middle of the room, looking at her with a empty gaze, tired and pale.

"My brother has given his consent for us to negotiate with Daemon on his behalf."

She asked nothing more; her husband ordered them to bring their riding attire, which they changed into quickly. They left the keep in a hurry – she felt a hit of adrenaline and joy when she smelt the pleasant, fresh air around her.

For the first time in long days she was back outside, stepping on the soft grass, hearing the sound of the trees; she felt her uncle walking beside her glance at her once in a while, pondering for sure if she would try to escape. She stopped, surprised when he turned in a different direction than he should have, not understanding where he was going.

"We need to get Larax first." She said to him, turning her head towards Dragon's Pit, which she could see in the distance.

"No. You will fly with me on Vhagar." He replied coolly, without stopping; she looked at his silhouette in pain and moved after him with her heart beating fast, disappointed, for some reason naively believing that he would allow her to ride her own dragon.

However, her whole body was quivering in anticipation, for she had never seen Vhagar with her own eyes before.

She spotted her from afar; she seemed to her as big as a fortress, coiled, sleeping a sound sleep, her scales grey and brown, hot steam gushing from her nostrils once in a while, which dissolved into the air. She stood still for a moment, stunned, wanting to look at her from a distance; her uncle snorted at the sight, amused.

"Are you speechless?" He scoffed with some kind of pride and satisfaction, as if he had dreamed of this moment all his life; he, the second son, with no dragon and no heritage, could finally show her the great beast he had ridden in all its glory.

She heard his shuddering sigh as she snuggled into him, embracing him at the waist, the setting sun and a pleasant warm breeze all around them; his hands cuddled her into himself, his forehead pressed against the top of her head.

He furrowed his brow, surprised when she approached him; she tightened her hands on his leather coat, rose on her toes and kissed him, just as she had when they were children, merely pressing her lips against his. She pulled away from him with a quiet click of her saliva.

H looked at her with big eyes – it seemed to her that he had completely not expected this, still angry with her for what had happened.

"Am I flying towards my own doom?" He asked in a whisper, and she shook her head.

"No."

He sighed heavily, pale, frightened and uncertain, knowing that he was facing the destiny he feared, surely wishing he could now look deep into her heart and know her thoughts.

Whether betrayal lurked behind them.

He let her go, moving towards his dragoness, who raised her head sensing their scent – the ground trembled around them as she caught sight of her, rising restlessly on one of her paws, anxious.

"Lykiri, Vhagar. Ziry iksos ñuha ābrazȳrys, ñuha ānogar (Easy, Vhagar. It's my wife, my blood)." She heard his loud, deep, calm voice and felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that just a month ago, when she was just a bastard to him, these words would not have passed his lips.

Ñuha ānogar.

My blood.

She was more than his wife, and he was more than her husband.

She dared to come closer when he nodded at her, watching vigilantly the behaviour of the giant beast lying in front of her, its lizard-like, dark eyes watching her with curiosity.

She thought that her uncle had not allowed anyone but himself to approach her for years.

Her husband explained to her that she had to climb up the ropes to her back and sit in the big saddle, belaying her from below, a task that proved difficult and required great strength in her arms. He grasped her buttock several times with his hand when he saw that she was losing strength, and she wondered if he was watching over her safety and that she should not fall, or if he was simply taking satisfaction from it.

Both, she thought, sighing with relief as she finally got to the top and sat comfortably in the large leather saddle; her uncle sat behind her, breathing loudly. She felt him hesitate, his hand embracing her waist, the other gripping the ropes, his face melting into her soft cheek.

"Iksā ñuha vējes (You are my doom)." He whispered, clearly thinking she wouldn't understand; she, however, had spent hours with Daemon reading the same books he'd flicked through then, in the library, before he'd taken her for the first time.

"Hae iksā ñuhon (As you are mine)." She answered him quietly, felt him draw in the air loudly, surprised, his hand involuntarily tightening on her leather coat.

"You were mocking me. Then, when you told me to teach you." He said lowly, disappointed as if he were a small child who had been fooled.

She knew he was saying this because he wanted to put off as much as possible what was about to happen.

She sighed quietly at his words, tilting her head back, resting it on his shoulder, the pleasant, warm evening breeze enveloping her face.

"I imagined you sitting next to me when Daemon teached me. That we were children again. I was trying to get back what I had lost." She said finally, placing her hand on his, large and cold. She sighed as he pulled her tighter to him, his hand from her stomach rose to her neck, clamping around her – she felt his manhood throbb behind her, pressing against her buttocks.

"I know."

"If you try to escape, if you betray me, I will kill you with my own hands." He hissed into her ear, but she felt no fear or discomfort, expecting those words for some reason.

His desperate attempt to threaten her, to stop her from whatever he was accusing her of in his head.

Flying with him into the dark skies, feeling the wind in her hair again and that wonderful freedom, she felt some kind of relief. She pressed her body against the front of the saddle and he embraced her tightly from behind, his cold cheek pressed against hers, his hands holding the ropes embraced her waist.

They both shuddered as they caught a glimpse from below of the fortress they both remembered so well, and on a hill not far away the figure of a red, long-necked dragon – beside it a lone, white-haired figure strolling along the edge of a cliff.

Her uncle commanded Vhagar to land; the ground around them shook from her weight as her great paws hit the ground, sand and dust rising high around them.

Her husband slid down the ropes first and she followed him, squealing loudly as he caught her before she fell to the ground, putting her safely on her feet.

"Don't try anything." He growled, checking her body quickly with his hands to make sure she didn't have a sharp tool hidden anywhere, which she allowed him to do without a word despite the fact that he had already done so before they even left the Red Keep. "Come."

She moved a few steps behind him towards her father, sighing loudly at the sight of him with emotion – she felt her whole body tremble, her lips parted in an involuntary smile.

She thought she would never see him again.

Her husband stopped, and she stood behind him. Daemon looked at her as he unsheathed his sword and dagger from his leather belt, laying it slowly on the ground. She heard her uncle swallow hard, distrustful, and after a moment he did the same, tense, letting the air out loudly as he straightened back up, looking at him expectantly.

"Speak, uncle." He ordered, however, Daemon wasn't looking at him but at her.

She realised he had noticed what was clearly visible on her lower lip.

"You married him." He said offhandedly, looking at her with a gaze that made her shudder, the one that always recognised when she was lying or trying to hide something from him. She nodded.

"He forced you?"

"That's enough. Did you summon me to mock me, uncle?"

"He forced you?"

"No." She heard her own trembling voice, looking at him pleadingly, unsure if he would understand why she had done this, or if he would see it as a betrayal.

Daemon looked to the side, pressing his lips together, and sighed heavily, as if he was very tired, a light breeze blowing his white hair partly pinned back as he finally turned to her husband.

"So you know what duty is. What family is. And yet you support your brother who stole his sister's throne." He said coldly; she looked uncertainly at her uncle-husband, who clenched his eyelids and chuckled under his breath, as if something in his words amused him.

"Why should I support my sister, the same one who, when I lost my eye, wanted to interrogate me thoroughly because I told the truth out loud? Why should I support her children, who have no claim to the throne?" He hissed; he and Daemon looked at each other warily, fighting for glances, for dominance, for who would have the last word.

"You married a woman you think is worthless? Like her brothers?" He asked dryly, Aemond snorted loudly, shaking his head in disbelief.

"She is my wife. Who her father was no longer matters, for she belongs now to my family, for our children will bear my name." He growled loudly, hitting his index finger against his chest, as if he could finally get out what he really felt.

She looked at him in disbelief, surprised that he wasn't holding back, that he wasn't limiting himself to conveying his brother's will, whatever it might be, but saying what he himself was thinking.

Daemon stared at him for a moment and snorted under his breath, shaking his head, looking at him again.

"What does your drunken brother-cunt have to convey to my wife as his justification? I lost my daughter because of him." He said coldly and she looked at him in disbelief, feeling cold sweat on her back, her husband gave her a quick, horrified look.

"What?" She muttered, looking at her father, then at him. She furrowed her brow, feeling that she was having trouble breathing, taking a step back. "You knew?"

"Calm down. You were suffering. I didn't want to add to your pain." Her uncle said quickly, looking at her pale, Daemon laughed out loud, burying his face in his hands.

"Look at you two. The future of the kingdom." He sneered, his nephew's lips tightening, throwing him a sharp, warning look.

"My wife is to pass on her rights to the throne to a child that does not yet exist? What if a girl is born? What if you have no children?" He asked with disapproval and mockery, as if he had never heard a greater foolishness before.

"My brother has agreed to relinquish his rights to the crown, in favour of my and my wife's future heirs. He knows, exactly as you do, that both his rights in light of previous Lords' oaths, and your wife's in light of her being a woman, will always be challenged, and by extension the rights to the throne of their children and grandchildren. No one, however, will challenge the rights to the crown of my and my wife's offspring." He said in one exhale, trying to remain calm; she looked at him in disbelief, her heart pounding like mad.

Grief, hope, disappointment and relief mixed in her heart making her herself not know what she felt.

"Then second to the throne will be your and my sister's children. Children from the rightful bed, pure Targaryen blood. If my wife and I do not beget a son."

"That is not enough. I want the head of your mother and your grandfather."

"Then I want Luke's head. I will gouge out his eyes with my own hands."

"Enough." She said, clutching her stomach, feeling everything around her start to spin – her husband taking a step towards her, frightened, seeing the look in her eyes, blank and furious.

"Enough, or I swear I'll throw myself right off this cliff." She mumbled, burying her face in her hands, shaking her head. She felt her uncle's hand embrace her neck, cuddling her into his chest, trying to calm her, Daemon watching them from afar.

"You will release my daughter as an act of goodwill. She will return with me to Dragonstone, and perhaps I will consider passing on your proposal to my wife. A daughter for a daughter." He said impassively; she felt her husband's hand clamp painfully tight on the nape of her neck, felt his heart pounding like mad under her cheek.

"Never."

Her father looked at her, certainty and impatience in his eyes.

"Tala (Daugther)." He said in an unobjectionable tone, wanting her to choose rightly, to choose her family, her kin.

"Don't you fucking dare." She heard him hiss, his free hand clenched helplessly in her hair, his forehead pressed against the top of her head, his breathing loud, shaky, terrified. "You promised me."

Part of her longed to stay with him, and part of her craved to be free, to go home, to see her mother, her brothers and sisters, to lie in her bed in her chamber.

However, Larax would stay in King's Landing, and with her her husband, who would never again trust her, who would never again look at her as he did then, the day he took her as his wife.

Kill me or marry me.

"Tell my mother that I will always be faithful to her, father." She said quietly, lifting her head, looking at her husband, his wide-open eye red with despair and horror; her hand rose to his cheek, her thumb stroked his clearly defined jaw. "Take me home, uncle."

She didn't appear to have time to finish her sentence, and his swollen, full lips pressed against hers in a passionate, greedy kiss – she felt tears of relief, grief, anger, joy and pain run down her cheeks as she reciprocated his caresses, his hands clenched tightly on her body.

"My sweet Rheanys." He whispered in a trembling voice into her mouth, placing a quick, hot, wet kiss on her forehead before turning towards her father, the satisfaction and confidence on his face from which her heart beat harder.

"She is mine."

254 notes · View notes

aestheticaltcow · 1 month

Text

The Social Media Manager: The Series (Part 2)

Another installment of the social media manager series

Another shout out to @thebearsoc for the inspiration!

The Moodboard/OG blurb

Part 1 Introductions and Donuts

Meetings, Meetings, Meetings

“Wait, wait, wait-” Richie started rubbing a hand against the back of his head, “You’re tellin’ me, Marcus’s party girl 20-somethin’ year old friend is getting access to our social media? That’s bull, and you know it, Natalie.”

Natalie rolled her eyes and glanced in Marcus’s direction, “Marcus, Rusty has done this before, right?” he nodded before explaining, “Nat, Richie, I’m tellin’ ya’, Rusty is really good at this shit. Just give her a shot.”

Carmy entered the sitting area of The Bear and sat next to Natalie without saying anything, “I don’t think we can afford this, Marcus. I’m sure Rusty is a wonderful social media manager, but the budgets tight.” Natalie sighed, staring at her computer screen.

“That's the thing- you guys have a hookup.” Marcus grinned, hoping that this would be enough of a selling point. “Rusty owes me one. She’d probably do the setup for free, and I can do all the posting. She helped me redo my account when I came back from Cophegan- I went from like 100 followers to like 1,000 in a month.”

Carmy looked around the group before nodding in Marcus’s direction, “Call her.”

Carmy stood up and walked out of the dining area through the kitchen and into the office, where his phone had been plugged in to charge. He quickly opened his phone, went to the seldomly used Instagram app, typed in your handle, and smiled as your account came up. He’d been Instagram stalking you since he’d heard Marcus giving Syd your handle. She’d laughed about it being a reference to a K-pop group he’d never heard of; granted, he’d never really listened to any of those groups. So far, he’d learned that you have an eclectic taste in music, an affinity for putting googly eyes on potted plants, a love for fancy coffees with overpriced pastries, and had, in fact, known Marcus since high school. He liked your style. There was something free about it; he admired your creativity. Carmy took notes about you through the account. Your highlight reels being indicative of your personality, the ‘Rusty cooking??’ highlight reel was particularly traumatizing. He wondered how you’d gotten into your 20s without knowing how to actually chop an onion, but he could show you how to do it properly; just the idea of that made his heart flutter. Carmy was incredibly attracted to you, but when you’d posted a boomerang of you kissing a guy’s cheek and tagged the guy’s account with a heart emoji, he was worried this would be another unrequited crush.

When you walked into The Bear the next day in a pair of trousers with your hair up and a pair of glasses perched on your nose, Carmy felt like his heart was going to explode. He beelined for the bathroom to make sure he didn’t have anything in his teeth and washed his hands in an attempt to get the smell of cigarettes off his hands before going to talk to you.

“So that’s what I would recommend doing for TikTok. The algorithm is tricky, but once you get on its good side, it can be really great publicity.” Carmy swallowed as he listened to you explain your strategy to Natalie and Richie. Natalie seemed impressed, while Richie seemed wary. “This is all really great Rusty. Thanks for getting back to me so quickly.” Natalie smiled as she shuffled a pile of documents into a yellow folder. You shrugged and responded with a playful laugh before explaining that work had been slow at the moment, so you had some extra free time to take a peak at the analytics you could see without access to the account details.

After Richie and Natalie said their goodbyes, Richie was still seemingly cold toward hiring a social media manager and you in general. The two of them discussed it as they walked toward the kitchen. Carmy waited until they had walked through the kitchen door before approaching you. If he struck out with you he’d prefer not to do it within earshot of his sister and Richie; he’d never live it down. “Hey.” Carmy greeted awkwardly, rocking on his heels.

You smiled back, “Hey you. Long time no see.” Carmy blushed at your flirtatious tone. “How you doin’ Carmy? Spendin’ a lot of time on Instagram, huh?”

Carmy needed some clarification on the comment. You noticed and giggled before explaining, “You liked a picture on my account from like two years ago.” Carmy tightly grinned out of embarrassment. He hesitantly nodded, “Uh yeah—Marcus recommended you do our social media stuff… I just wanted to check out what you post.”

He hoped he saved himself, but self-doubt was taking over. He watched as you began twirling a strand of hair on your index finger. “It’s okay, Carmy. I think you’re cute, and I’m going out on Friday with a couple of friends… if you happen to show up at this bar across town called The White Rabbit, I might let you buy me a drink.”

Carmy was speechless. He was by no means an experienced dater, and within that limited experience, he’d never had a girl come onto him like this. You noticed his awkwardness and found it endearing. “No pressure. You can also just call me sometime.”

You pulled a Sharpie out of your bag and grabbed Carmy’s wrist to write your number across his forearm, “Bye, Carmy.” you winked before walking past him, making sure he’d get a whiff of your perfume.

“B-bye Rus-sty.” Carmy managed to stutter out as he watched you walk out of the front entrance. He pushed the heel of his hand against his jaw. You were different, and it scared him, but also found it enchanting.

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear fic #marcus the bear #natalie the bear #richie jerimovich #sydney the bear

150 notes · View notes

zeroeightzeroone · 5 months

Text

if you don't know - bang chan

genre: angst

pairings: idol!bang chan x fem. reader

warnings: none

notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.

wc ~1.7k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"go ahead rip my heart out, show me what love's all about,

go ahead rip my heart out, that's what love's all about.

i want you to want me this way, and i need you to need me to stay. "

'if you don't know' - 5 seconds of summer

you remember the day chan proposed.

he came home with bags of takeout after a long day of dance practice. the two of you chatting and exchanging stories that happened over the past few weeks but hadn't had the opportunity to be shared until that night. you remember how chan reached over to tuck a stray hair behind your ear so it wouldn't get into your food.

after, the two of you split up the cleaning tasks. you washed and dried the dishes. meanwhile, chan took out the trash, swept the floor and wiped down the table. he finished his tasks faster than he normally would and he opted to stand next to you. chan danced around, bumping hips as he sang whatever came to mind, giggles leaving your lips as you continued to scrub the dishes. he leaned down, placing a kiss on your cheek before letting you know he'd go wash up quickly, whilst you let him know you'd meet him in bed once you were done.

when you opened the door to your bedroom you didn't expect there to be rose petals scattered on the comforter. in shock, your eyes moved to the front of the bed where chan knelt on one knee, a black velvet box in his hands as he smiled up at you.

"y/n," chan opened the box to reveal a gold diamond ring inside.

the moment chan began speaking you remember feeling like you were dreaming. floating on cloud nine as he professed his undying love for you and his will to spend forever with you. you don't remember at what point in his speech your tears began to stream down uncontrollably or when you decided to cover your mouth that hung open at the sight of the man in front of you. all you remembered was the way he stared up at you.

his smile reached ear to ear, his eyes smiling at you in crescent moon shapes as his eyes sparkled, glistening over with tears. the moment you dropped to your knees, nodding and trying your best to utter the word "yes!" through your sobs, chan's tears also began to fall. you threw yourself into his chest and he rocked you both back and forth, repeatedly whispering in your ear how much he loved you, his excitement to spend the rest of his life with you.

it's been a year since chan proposed. the night replayed in your mind almost daily, subconsciously you feared that that moment would fade from your memory. you never wanted to forget how happy and in love you felt that night, how secure you felt in chan's arms.

now here you are.

your fingers fiddling with your ring as chan stands across from you, on the other end of the kitchen island. the both of you looking in each other's direction as your chests heaved slowly, your faces red with heavy breaths leaving both your lips. his body moves to slump over the kitchen island as his hands fold in front of him to support his body weight. chan's dark brown eyes scan over your face but avoids your gaze, his eyes looking more tired than they did almost two hours ago.

you clench your jaw as you pinch your eyes closed, leaning your head towards the floor, taking a moment to collect yourself and calm your frantic emotions. his eyes slowly move down to look at your hands which have turned white from how hard you're gripping at the edge of the kitchen island, scanning the gold band around your ring finger. you take another deep breath before looking in his direction once again. scanning over your face, chan notices the way your cheeks are damp with tear stains.

"what happened chan?" you wonder, your voice coming out whiny and broken, "we haven't gone on a proper date in months. when you get home we barely even speak and i can't remember the last time you told me you loved me these past couple of weeks. its like i barely even know you anymore!"

you watch as chan catches his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling at the skin instead of responding to you. you move from your spot standing behind the counter and to the dining table, taking a seat on one of the chairs before your knees go out from how rapidly your heart is pounding.

"what am i here for still chan? just to do your laundry, cook your meals and clean the apartment?" you gesture to the dining table next to you.

you cooked dinner in hopes that you would be able to have a freshly cooked meal together only for chan to text you that he would be back later than usual and not to wait up. ending up with you eating a warm meal three hours before he came home to eat the leftovers sitting on the table in a tupperware.

"i'm your girlfriend, not your maid or a house sitter. fuck, i'm not even your girlfriend, i'm your fiance chan!"

your fingers go to the gold band around your ring finger, as if the more you touch the ring the better the end of this conversation would go.

"say something, please!" you plead, crying out to the man who's still leaning against the kitchen island, his eyes focused in your direction but avoiding looking directly into your eyes.

"i'm sorry," he mumbles, "i-i don't know what else to say other than i'm sorry."

"do you still want me? do you still want us?" you ask him in a hushed tone, your voice breaking at the end of your sentence. you're scared for his answer. you've never once felt scared or nervous about asking chan about his feelings toward you until this very moment. your heart pounds in your chest as you see the way his eyes change.

"of course i still want you! i love you, i want to build a family and be with you forever! you're my forever y/n!"

you want him to say that. you wait for him to say those words but he doesn't.

he doesn't even utter anything along those lines, let alone any words at all. his lip is still between his teeth as he stares in your direction, his eyes emotionless. even as he watches the tears fall faster he stares emotionlessly.

"chan."

"i'm sorry but i don't know," he drops his head into his hands, "i don't know what i want anymore."

you feel your heart skip a beat as you choke up a sob. the weight on your chest suffocates you as your heart drops, shattering into millions of pieces. your fingers stop their fidgeting at the band on your ring finger, falling away and onto your lap.

it feels like the world has stopped.

the room stills, the only sounds are your sobs and whimpers. neither of you moving an inch from where you are currently as the situation slowly sinks in. chan's head is still in his hands as he listens to your cries, he questions himself on why he doesn't feel anything; why he feels nothing listening to the gut-wrenching cries of his lover, the person he once believed he would spend the rest of his life with, the person he couldn't see a future without, why does the thought of losing you not phase him.

he hears the sound of the chair scraping against the floor, slowly he looks up from his hands and he finds you standing in front of him. your eyes red and heavy avoiding his gaze, cheeks flushed and damp with tears. your small hand moves to wrap around his wrist, your left hand curled into a fist coming up and resting on his palm. chan's gaze moves from your hands before he focuses on your face again.

"convince me to stay," you whisper, almost inaudibly, "please."

chan can hear you, loud and clear. he gulps and releases a shaky breath, "i'm sorry."

you hear a part of your brain telling you to fight, fight for chan and your relationship.

but you're tired, exhausted. your heart is pleading with your brain to stop, telling it that it hurts too much to hold on. telling it that you're too tired to be the only one who wants this, to be the only one fighting. that small urge to fight for chan fades as your heart gets progressively heavier in your chest.

you pinch your eyes closed again as you nod slowly. painfully trying to acknowledge the situation laid out in front of you, trying to accept it as if your whole world isn't crumbling at your feet. your breath hiccupping as your eyes meet his for the first time since this conversation began two hours ago. maybe even the first time in the past couple of weeks that the two of you have looked into each other's eyes.

the longer chan looks into your eyes, the more he notices just how much has changed.

chan remembers the way your eyes sparkled on your first date. the way you would tear up when you laughed really hard, your eyes glistening as you laughed out loud. he remembers the way your eyes softened and lit up when he told you he loved you for the first time. whenever he came home from a bad day, looking into your eyes would wash him over with a sense of relaxation, comfort and stability; chan had always felt like everything would be okay the moment he looked into your eyes.

but now the once bright, sparkling orbs full of life that he fell in love with were now devoid of life, dull and dark. he can see the pent up exasperation in your sunken-in, tired eyes. your eyes stare into his; almost like you were searching for something that he wasn't saying. searching for the slightest hint of love, of longing for you, of heartbreak, a reason to stay.

slowly, you open your hand that's laid on top of his. your nails gently scraping the surface of his palm before chan feels something drop into his grasp.

your engagement ring.

you take a step back, your eyes never leaving chan's as you take one last good look at the man in front of you.

"goodbye, chan."

part two | main masterlist

#stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagine #stray kids one shots #stray kids angst #skz angst #bang chan angst #bang chan imagine #bang chan one shot #skz bang chan angst #skz bang chan imagine #skz bang chan one shot

228 notes · View notes

oddinary4bts · 6 months

Text

November Sun | jjk

☆summary: whenever he breaks, the november sun shines on him. and jungkook chases you across the sky - but you've gone some place he can't reach you now.

☆pairing: Jungkook x reader (I genuinely don't think the gender is ever mentioned? please let me know if it is so I can adjust this here), mentions-ish of Namjoon x reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, it deals with heavy themes)

☆genre: grief au/funeral au?, exes au, angst

☆warnings: angst, like. Just angst. OC is dead and Jungkook is grieving her. Curses words, very light mentions of sex, flashbacks of moments when jungkook broke. mentions of christianism (the funerals are held in a church), mentions of alcohol, jealousy. Namjoon is a broken man as well

☆word count: 3.7k

☆a/n: I started writing this tonight because I was sad and then just realized I won't have the strength to look back on it ever again so I'm posting it even tho it hasn't been beta-ed, and even tho the person that makes my moodboards is unavailable rn. Idc. It needed to be out of my system, and now it is.

☆a/n pt2: I know this piece is extremely heavy. If you ever need to speak, please reach out to me. My blog is a safe space for every single one of you <3

☆☆☆☆☆

The church is a tall building. Grand, elegant in its simplicity, though it cuts against the blue sky up above in stark lines, shaped like a prison.

Jungkook thinks life has become a prison a while ago.

It’s a mystery, why your family chose this space for your funeral. You never believed, never practiced. Is it a betrayal to mark your passing in a space that feels so unlike you?

Jungkook thinks it is.

He sighs, chases the heaviness away the same way the clouds chase themselves in the sky up above. He doesn’t know how the sun is shining in the blue expanse of the sky. It’s November, yet the day is warm, the sun is blindingly glowing. It feels like a crime – how can the sun shine in a world deprived of your existence?

Jungkook doesn’t want to know.

Only knows that he’s watched from afar the people that gathered on the front steps. Chatting, heads hung low and shoulders bent forward. He heard sniffles, he heard laughs, and he just waited for everyone to go in to get closer.

Jungkook doesn’t know why he was invited. Why someone from a distant past figured he would need to be here, to share his grief with people that could understand.

Though Jungkook thinks no one can understand.

He remembers you, in all your glory. His first love, when he had been a stupid college kid who didn’t know what he wanted in life. You were two years older, and now... and now one day he’ll be older than you. Because you've stopped aging, you came and went like a moment in time, when he'll still be here for who fucking knows how long.

He chases the thought away with a long inhale, holds the air in knowing that it’s choking him up before he lets it out on a sigh.

You were beautiful. A star that walked the Earth, only to return to the night sky above far too soon. He had loved you dearly, in his own twisted way. Had tried to be what you sought, what you needed, until he had realized he was never going to be enough.

Would you still be alive today, if he had fought harder?

*****

“I’m not doing this,” you said. “I’m so fucking done with your indecision, with your fear of commitment.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Please, you graduated and now you think you’re so high above me. Get down from the fucking horse, Y/n, it’s not going to bring us anywhere.”

He’d said the words hoping that they would hurt you. And they did: he saw you physically recoil as if he’d punched you. As if the words had been a physical blow, and not just letters of the alphabets shaped into words and sound, into arrows to pierce that beautiful soul of yours.

“Maybe I don’t want us to go somewhere anymore,” you replied after a quiet moment of breaking hearts.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.” You sighed, slightly shaking your head as your eyes fell to the floor between you and him. “I know, but I mean it.”

“Please,” was all Jungkook thought to reply.

“You say please all the time,” you told him. “You beg me, and for what? We always circle back to fighting, to hurting each other.” You paused, and though you were avoiding his features he could see you blinking back tears. “Maybe we aren’t supposed to be together at all.”

“Don’t say that,” Jungkook warned. “Don’t you fucking say that. I love you. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“I love you too, Jungkook,” you answered. “I’ve loved you since the first day I met you at that stupid party last year.”

Jungkook felt the tear rolling down his cheek, felt the gravity pulling on his heart until it was shattering on the ground.

“Then why stop now?” he asked. “Give me time, Y/n. I’ll graduate, and I’ll be able to move in with you, and to provide for you and give you everything that you need.”

You sighed heavily, finding courage to finally meet his gaze. At the stark finality shining behind your pupils, Jungkook’s knees weakened. His whole fucking body weakened, ready for the blow.

For the end that was coming for you and him like a car barreling down a dead-end street.

“But I’m tired of waiting,” you answered. “I don’t want to spend my life waiting around for someone.”

“I’m still in college, I just can’t move in with you right now…”

“I know, Jungkook. I know.”

He wanted to fight. Wanted to tell you to stay in his dorm tonight, and to never leave again. But he could tell that you were already gone.

So he steeled himself. Readied himself to let you go even though you were the blood in his veins.

“I’m holding you back, aren’t I?”

You wiped a tear on your cheek, blurring behind those in his gaze. “You are.”

He choked on a sob, hiding his eyes behind his hand as if that would stop the breaking. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you reassured him. “We just aren’t at the same place in life anymore.”

An empty silence surrounded you, so loud Jungkook could hear every beat of his heart in his ears, could feel the walls pressing in.

“I don’t want you to go,” he softly said.

“I know,” you murmured. “I…” You choked on a sob, and it took you a moment before you managed to continue. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed, a sound so devoid of joy he wondered if he’d ever feel happiness again. “Please don’t be. You’re allowed to want more.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

Anger rose up on the horizon of Jungkook’s conscience, and he pushed it away. He refused to be angry at you, refused to put the blame on you when you made it clear that you wanted him to move in so long ago, and he disregarded it without even once thinking about it.

“I’ll find you again,” he promised, voice strained and heavy with emotion. “I’ll graduate and find you.”

You stepped closer to him, gently cupping his cheek. “Go find someone that loves you for what you are, Jungkook.”

“And you don’t?”

“I don’t want you to settle for someone that asks too much for you,” you explained, renewed silver lining your eyes. “Find someone that loves you for who you are, right now.”

“Fuck that,” he choked out, and he pulled you flush against his chest. “Fuck this nonsense. ”

“I’m so sorry,” you cried against him.

“Don’t be,” he reassured you, though he was crying too. “Don’t be. Give me a few years. I’ll have it all figured out in a few years.”

*****

The priest at the front of the church is going on and on about something that Jungkook doesn’t care to listen to. It’s impersonal, nothing like you, like the vibrant girl he remembers. So he lets his memory guide him to you, where you’re awaiting him. Your lips on his, your hand running through his hair. Your own hair catching in the wind that time you’d gone hiking, and he’d believed being at the top of the mountain with you felt like he had won in life.

Or that time you’d driven on the coast, windows down, screaming the lyrics to a song he can’t listen to anymore. Now the song is haunted by ghosts of a past he never learned to let go, perhaps because for months after the breakup he’d kept the conviction that he’d find his way back to you. He’d believed it the same way he believed the sun would always rise in the morning. A simple truth of nature, that nothing could ever break.

Except a car accident, apparently. Because all it took was a car accident to wipe you off the surface of the Earth, to take your light and shove it into shadows, into darkness and a void so wide he knows he’ll never find you again.

But he’d believed he’d find his way back to you. Never let anyone in after you, for the months and years it took him to graduate because he always knew he’d find his way back to you. You were his silver lining, the finish line at the end of the race. On a November day, just as sunny as today, Jungkook reached that finish line.

He did find you again, only you never knew.

*****

Jungkook had never felt so light before. Like he had grown wings, like he was soaring in the clouds up above. Though the sun was out, the weather was cold, wind running cold fingers through the lapels of his coat until he found himself shivering as he made his way to the flower store.

He’d get the biggest bouquet for you, and then he’d head to where he knew from a common friend that you lived now. It was Saturday, and he hoped to catch you unaware, to catch you in the middle of cleaning your apartment the same way that you cleaned it back when you were dating.

The image of you, with your hair pulled back in a high ponytail as you danced around instead of sweeping the floor shone in his mind, brighter than the star in the sky above.

He bought the flowers, heart beating fast in his chest. Because it was time. It was finally time to go home, to tell you that he did everything he said he would, that he changed and now had a job that could support what you both wanted. He wanted to ask you out, and in his dreams you had been answering yes every single time since he had decided to go see you.

His heart fluttered as he gently rested the flowers on his passenger seat, careful not to damage them. Memories floated to him, and a smile grew on his lips as he remembered you, screaming out the window that day you had driven along the coast. You had stopped to watch the sunset in the waves, and he’d kissed you stupid on his back seat until every single inch of your skin knew about his love.

He couldn’t wait to create new memories with you.

He drove carefully, enjoying the warmth of the sun now that he was safely hidden from the wind. You actually didn’t live too far from where he did now, and soon enough he parked his car near your building. He got out of the vehicle, almost running to the other side in his excitement to grab the bouquet on the passenger seat. When it was safely tucked in his hand, Jungkook shut the car door, locked it, and started walking to your building.

He didn’t even know which apartment was yours. He believed fate would guide him, and so he crossed the street to your building, trusting the universe for what was to come next.

He heard your laugh before he saw you. Love swelled in his chest, and he wondered if you were laughing because you’d seen him, because you’d known that he’d come back for you.

And then he saw you. The wind was ruffling your hair, which he assumed had prompted the laugh. Your eyes were closed, hands struggling to push the wild strands behind your ears.

You were more beautiful than he remembered. Shone brighter, with the same stuff that stars consisted of. He was struck for a moment, watching you with his bouquet hoping that you’d open your eyes and see him.

The world slowed down to a stop, and time halted, and Jungkook watched you, feeling at home for the first time in years.

The illusion fractured the instant someone else came into view, making him realize that you hadn’t been laughing at the wind. No, perhaps your laughter took root in the dimples gracing the man’s cheeks as he smiled at you, as he pecked your forehead before grabbing your hand.

Jungkook ducked behind a car, clutching the flower bouquet like a lifeline the moment that you turned towards him. Did you hear his heart breaking? Did you hear the mockery in the November sun rays – you’d broken up on a similar day, years ago.

Jungkook couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think around the shattering of his heart, around the blood turning to ice in his veins as he heard you speak to the man – Namjoon, he heard you call him.

He would have rather not known the name.

Still Jungkook drank in the sound of your voice, trying to shape it into the words he was so willing to hear you say today. It didn’t work, and soon enough your voice disappeared, leaving him in a deafening silence of wind and sun and the realization that after all, he had come back too late.

Perhaps he should have known that he'd be too late.

*****

When Jungkook received the call last week, he’d sat outside in the silence until he thought his eardrums would start bleeding. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t breathed, hadn’t done anything other than to stare at the fading light of the sun.

He wonders, why is it that whenever he breaks, November sun is shining high above? As if the universe takes pleasure in his torment, in undoing him until he barely counts as a human being anymore.

He got pissed out drunk that night. Last time he had been as drunk was when he had found out you were dating someone new, that day he had come to find you.

And now he wonders, if he had approached you that day, would you still be dead today? Would life still have put you on that road with its drunk driver so that you could meet your end?

Or would you be laughing at some dumb comment he’d make, telling him that he’s stupid with eyes so full of love he wouldn’t be able to do anything else but agree with you?

It’s hard to tell. So, he doesn’t try to figure it out – he has an eternity ahead of himself to figure out how to live without you anyway.

Maybe in all his misfortune Jungkook actually had some luck. He’s learned to grieve you a while ago already, and perhaps grieving someone that still lives is harder than grieving someone that’s passed. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he knows anything. Just that, so far back in the past he should have said fuck it and move in with you. It was such a simple request, but he had been too young and dumb, and he’d forever live with the regrets of it.

If someone from your family notices his presence at the funeral, recognizes him from your shared past, they don’t say. Especially not as the end of the ceremony comes before he’s had a chance to really take in the picture of you, smiling, over there next to the urn with your ashes.

You’re ashes now. Everything that made you – your laugh, your smile, the way you carried yourself with that simple elegance – all of it is gone to be replaced with mere ashes.

He doubts they can hold the truth of your essence, but then again he doesn’t think anything can, or anything ever will again.

He blinks away the tears as they come, leaving the ceremony like a whisper in the wind. He doesn’t want to speak to your family, doesn’t want to see them coddling the man that you loved, that survived the accident when he should have been the one to go.

Jealousy and selfishness are ugly, Jungkook realizes. But it’s easier to hate the man that took you away from him, no matter how unknowingly he did it.

And Jungkook tried to hate you once. He tried hard, in the months after that fated November day, when you’d laughed to that man’s joke, smiled when he’d smiled that soft dimpled smile of his. He had tried, because hating you felt like it was the only way he wouldn’t hurt. But he still hurt – he still hurts.

All he’s been able to do in his life since you broke up is hurt, and he highly doubts he’ll ever feel differently again.

Perhaps he’ll grow numb. Perhaps he should have grown numb a while ago.

At least that’s what he’s telling himself days later, when he’s looking at the tombstone they picked out for you. The finality of your name and the dates, the ending, is unnerving. He wishes it was fake, wishes it was a joke, and that he didn’t spend most of his life loving someone that moved on to a new love in just a few years.

It’s been over a decade and he hasn’t moved on even a little bit.

He kicks the ground, mad at the leaves littering the ground where you’re buried, as if they’re sullying you. And as if laughing at him, sun rays pierce through the clouds up above, that dreaded November sun making an appearance when it should stay gone.

He allows himself to cry. To break down, to sit on the ground and curse everything and everyone that’s ever been between you and him. He curses his stupidity, curses the sun and the leaves and the etchings on the stone. He hates everything. Hates himself, hates you, hates the whole fucking universe for taking you away, for not giving him the chance to be with you.

That’s how Namjoon finds him. Jungkook’s tears have receded, and he’s just sitting there, an empty shell that once held love and laughter and your lips on his. He hears the scuffle of Namjoon’s steps, of his cane as he walks up the path.

The man’s features are grave when Jungkook can’t help but glance towards him, sees him ambling up the path with that cane, the only indication that he too was in that car accident. And Jungkook wonders if Namjoon knows about him. If Namjoon knows that he wasn’t the first man whose love for you was a bottomless ocean, one Jungkook has drowned in time and time again since you broke up.

Namjoon remains standing, and Jungkook remains sitting. Like there’s an understanding between them, and silence conveys more than words could. Jungkook doesn’t want to move, and Namjoon clearly doesn’t have anywhere to go.

Jungkook thinks the Earth has revolved around the sun at least once before Namjoon scrapes his throat.

“It’s hard to believe that she’s gone, isn’t it?” he speaks, deep voice carrying the weight of the universe.

Jungkook doesn’t deign reply as his eyes fill with tears, though he refuses to let them out right now.

Especially not in front of the man you loved after him.

“You’re Jungkook, aren’t you?”

The simple sentence makes Jungkook lose it. He hides his face in his hands, his whole soul bleeding out under the November sun.

“She told me about you,” Namjoon continues, and Jungkook is convinced he hears pain, tears and grief laced with Namjoon’s words.

What did you tell him, Jungkook wonders? Did you tell Namjoon that you should have waited for Jungkook, that you should have given him a chance to become what you needed?

“She loved you a lot,” Namjoon adds after a silence, and he chokes on a sob. “She never forgot about you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jungkook asks with that broken voice, raspy with disuse.

He hasn’t been able to speak since you died.

“You deserve to grieve. She loved and loved, and I wish it would have been enough for her to live…”

“Stop,” Jungkook begs. “Please.”

Namjoon falls silent, offering salvation to Jungkook, though Jungkook doesn’t know if he deserves it.

Would he have been able to offer salvation to someone in his position if the situation was reversed? He highly doubts it.

“It’s just…” he trails off when he finds words again. “You got fucking years with her. You got years of loving and-“ it breaks on a sob. “And you were fucking engaged.” Jungkook pulls at his hair. “You were engaged, and all I got was months. Not even a full year.”

“I’m sorry man,” Namjoon answers, voice so broken Jungkook wonders who’s suffering the most.

He doesn’t think it’s himself.

“Was she happy?” Jungkook eventually asks, once he can’t stand the silence hanging around. Once he can’t stand the etchings on the stone, the void in the universe that used to be filled with you.

“I made her as happy as I could,” Namjoon replies truthfully, his voice strained but not as pained anymore. As if he’s reached a conclusion, clarity filling his mind.

Not needing to hear more, Jungkook gets up, dusting himself off.

“Good talk,” he says, fighting against the next onslaught of tears, and then he’s storming off.

Storming away from you, from everything that you meant to him. And maybe the sun rays really are mocking him in that beautiful November sky, because Namjoon says, “I don’t think she ever truly was happy after you, though.”

Jungkook stops, convinced someone just stabbed him right in the heart. He doesn’t think the organ can beat anymore, doesn’t think he can live anymore. He just wants to be dust on the wind, to be forgotten, and to stop fucking feeling all the time.

“She was calling off the engagement,” Namjoon continues. “She…” Jungkook turns, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen such agony as the one that graces Namjoon’s features right now. “She said she shouldn’t get married to me when she still loved another.”

Clouds pass in front of the November sun, and Jungkook remembers the smile on your face whenever you’d catch his gaze. He remembers the way you’d lovingly cupped his cheek even when you were breaking up with him. He still feels the ghost of your fingers on his skin as he holds Namjoon’s broken gaze.

He holds Namjoon’s broken gaze, unable to offer the man salvation. It might make him a monster, might make him selfish and jealous and everything that he finds disgusting about humanity. But Jungkook doesn’t care.

Not when he realizes that perhaps, perhaps he’s the one that you’re waiting for on the other side of the veil, so that you can rest in the eternity of afterlife together.

And perhaps, perhaps there’s some sort of beauty in the thought.

☆☆☆☆☆

I am crying and in pain and I am sending everyone that read this whole thing lots of love and if you need to talk just hit me up bc grief is a bitch and we hate her and I just wish I could take everyone's grief away

324 notes · View notes

beachylupin · 8 months

Text

I'd Have You Anytime || Remus Lupin x Muggle!Fem!Reader

i've risen from the dead just to finish and post this! i'm sorry for such the long wait everyone! but here it is! i'm hoping this is sufficient, but i personally love muggle!fem!reader, so she might make a comeback eventually. feedback is welcomed and appreciated! to preface: this part takes place near the first half/middle-ish of november part one (mb), part two (mb), moodboard for this part word count: 3.1k warnings: fluff!!!!!, pining, depression mess, maybe like three swear words

Not working for a week after the pub incident was a blessing in disguise. You were able to break down in silence with nobody secretly judging you. You stayed mainly in your bed, ignoring every phone call and worried message from Lily, James, and even Sirius. Some calls never came with a message, and you feared that it was Remus trying to reach you, so you decided to answer no calls at all.

It was quiet, but it was necessary.

By the end of the week, all your thoughts led to the same conclusion: you were horribly in love with Remus.

As stupid as it may seem, you had fallen for him, and you weren’t getting up anytime soon.

That’s why you acted rashly and left the pub crying. That’s why you shouted at him. You were terrified. Loving someone was a terrifying thing to do, especially when you didn’t really know them. You’d seen Remus twice, and surely that wasn't enough times to truly love someone.

But it strangely was, and you loved him.You knew it because he’s all you could think about. He plagued your thoughts. His face, his eyes, the scars: every part of him was constantly on your mind. Even his voice filled your mind even though you’ve talked to him maybe twice, and one of those times was yelling.

From the chill that ran down your spine when you first saw him, you knew he was the one. There was no doubting that.

Journaling seemed to help, and you spent most of that week doing just that. You wrote pages and pages and ink stained your fingers as you tried to figure out the answer on how you could salvage things, but the answer never really turned up. The only real answer you found is how desperate you were for true love.

A pound on your door caught you by surprise the day before you were supposed to go back to work. You paused your seventh watch through of Romeo and Juliet and walked to the door. You opened it, seeing a crazed-eyed Lily.

“I thought you were dead!” She exclaimed, pushing past you into your flat. “Why didn’t you answer?!”

“Because-”

“When was the last time you cleaned?” She asked, picking up a discarded pizza box from the couch and tossing it on the counter.

You looked around your apartment, suddenly feeling self conscious about its current state. It was a disaster. Pizza boxes, crisp bags, and soda cans lined every surface, and dishes were piled up in the sink. Clothes were strewn everywhere even though you stayed in one outfit for the past week.

“When was the last time you showered?” Lily asked, more concerned than put off by your noticeably greasy appearance.

You shrugged, genuinely not knowing. You knew it had to be at least a week ago.

“Babes,” Lily cooed, holding your hands in hers. “Pull yourself together. He’s just a guy-”

You sighed heavily, shaking your head. “He’s not just-”

“-who still very much would like to see you again,” she finished over you, a spark evident in her eyes. “Especially if you showered,” she mumbled, smiling as you turned red.

You dropped her hands as you threw her a playful glare. “I take it that you’d enjoy seeing me better if I was showered too?”

Lily shrugged, smiling coyly as she mumbled, “I won’t say yes, but it’d be preferred.”

You loosed a sigh. “Fine,” you said, making your way to the bathroom. “Just for you.”

Showering felt nice, and you hadn’t realized what you were missing until you were under the hot water. Because of that, your shower was longer intended, and the water ran cold by the time you were done cleaning yourself off.

You didn’t bother dressing yet since you knew Lily wouldn’t judge you, so you slipped on your robe, making your way to the living room, where she had conquered the mess the trash bags.

“Thought you might’ve died in there,” Lily said from the kitchen, her hands lost in dirty dishwater.

“I had to get clean,” you sighed, your shoulders slumping forward. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know I didn’t,” she replied, putting yet another clean dish on the drying rack. “You’re my friend, and I care about you so I wanted to.”

You hugged her from behind, your cheek pressing into her back as she washed another dish.

“I love you,” you mumbled, and she shut off the tap, turning to give you a proper hug.

“I love you too,” she said, squeezing you tighter before letting go. “Which is why-” she sang, a smile growing on her face. “You’ll come to my holiday party next week, won’t you?”

“Isn’t it a bit early?” You asked, realizing it wasn’t even December.

“Everyone does something different for holidays,” she sighed dramatically. “This is the only time that everyone will be together, and I don’t want you to miss it.” You didn’t say anything, so Lily continued. “I know the whole Remus thing didn’t work out, but I can say for certain that he still would love to see you, okay? Just talk to him. Invite him over or something whenever you see him next.”

You sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

Instead of protesting like normal, Lily nodded, smiling softly. “Come on. Let’s go watch movies like we did when we were girls.”

Lily was gone before you woke up, leaving you a note and a scone.

“Have a great day back! Xoxo Lily,” the note read. You took a bite of the scone, getting dressed for work, and began your walk to the cafe down the road.

Melanie was incoherently swearing at the oven when you came in through the back, dropping a pan of what looked like charcoal on the countertop.

She was your co-worker, and you considered her a friend, but she was horrible at her job. You feared for anyone who had to drink her chunky coffee, eat her blackened pastries, and listen to her swear in Gaelic in the week you were gone.

“There’s a guy waiting out there for you,” Melanie huffed, watching you as you tied a clean apron around your waist. “Been here since this mornin’.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, rolling your eyes. “Is it Ed?” You smiled, thinking of the old man with kind eyes who always asked for you to make his drinks. You missed him dearly.

“No, he’s a younger guy… Like our age,” she replied, chucking the burnt pastries in the trash. “He’s been here every day for a week lookin’ specifically for you. Had to ask him to leave by noon so he wasn’t takin’ up a table.” She glanced up at the time, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I left him today because I knew you’d be here. Didn’t order anything yet, though. ‘M sure he’ll do that once he sees you.”

“Oh.” You felt your face flush, and you suddenly started toying with your hair. You should be creeped out by this, but your heart soars. Somebody is here to see you. “Is he cute?”

“Decent, I guess,” Melanie said with a sigh, glancing at your nervous hands. “You look fine. Just go get his order before he sits here all day looking sad again.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your hands. “Are you sure-”

“Just go,” Melanie laughed, giving you a playful push out of the kitchen.

He was standing at the counter, his neck hardly craned to see the menu above him. Your heart dropped to your stomach, the sour ache in your chest coming back with a vengeance.

“Remus,” you tried to say, breathier than you wanted. Shit.

“Hiya,” he said. He hardly looked at you, his eyes focused on the menu. “I’m having trouble picking something to order...”

He was so nonchalant, it made your heart ache. His hair was slicked back, like he had just woken up and showered, which was a high possibility since it was only noon. A leather bomber jacket hid a green button up and brown corduroys. He was smiling at you as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

“What’s your favorite drink?” He asked, bringing you back into the conversation. “The other girl just kept giving me black coffee.”

“Melanie has poor taste,” you mumbled, flushing as you looked away from him. “Chocolate?”

“Huh?”

“Do you like chocolate?” You asked.

“I love chocolate,” he said, smiling.

You nodded, silently turning on your heel to start working on his drink.

Your mind, however, was anything but. You were racking your brain on what to say to him. Do you bring it up? Do you invite him over? You could tell Melanie that you needed to take a break, but you just got there, and she would flip her lid. You knew you were going to need the break after the lunch rush. Prepping a conversation failed you last time, and this time, you just needed to wing it.

You sighed, losing a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in, as you shaved chocolate over top of the whipped cream topping. You turned around, presenting the drink with a smile, ignoring the way your hands started shaking.

“Sweet lord,” Remus mumbled, his hand outstretched. “How much do I owe you?”

You handed him the cup, your fingers brushing as he busied his other hand with cash.

“‘S on the house,” you said quietly, your eyes not leaving where his fingers grazed yours. “Don’t tell me that you’ve been paying for Melanie’s black coffee all week.”

“Ahh, so she told you?” Remus asked, his brow quirked. “You probably think I’m creepy-”

“Endearing?” You finished his sentence before his lips even formed the ‘c,’ “Look, Remus-” Your heartbeat quickened. This was it. It’s happening.

“I’m all ears,” he said, grabbing your hand lightly before the bell ringing above the door distracted you.

“Hi! I’ll be right with you!” You greeted the old woman before locking eyes with Remus. “I’m off at eight,” you said, your voice wavering with nerves

A ding of the bell at the counter this time caught Remus’ attention now, making him glance over.

“Just a second, alright?” You tried to sound sweet, tightly smiling at her. You looked back at Remus, squeezing his hand lightly. “Come back-”

The woman dinged the bell impatiently, and Remus huffed, looking at her. “We’re in the middle of a conversation! Just wait a second!” He snapped, his attention back on you immediately. “I’ll walk you home, yeah?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you nodded. “I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll be here at eight sharp,” he said as the bell rang again. “Better deal with her,” he mumbled, dropping your hand as he backed away from the counter.

“Right,” you half laughed, rolling your eyes with a smile. “Work.” They dinged the bell again, clearing their throat. “I’m coming!” You huffed, throwing a brief smile to Remus before attending to the impatient customer.

“Sorry, we’re closed!” You called, your back turned toward the dinging door as you wiped down the counter.

“Damnit,” you heard him hiss. “I wanted one of those… whatever you made me this morning.”

You turned around, finding Remus at the counter clutching a bouquet of sunflowers.

“A cafe mocha.” Your voice was breathy just like this morning, and your cheeks turned pink as he set the sunflowers down on the counter.

“Should probably get those in some water,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “They didn’t like the cold.”

You grabbed the bouquet, plucking off a dried petal. “Where’d you get them?”

Remus shrugged, a smile playing at his lips. “I know a really good florist.”

You nodded quietly, understanding what he meant as you grabbed a large coffee cup, filling it with water. “Make yourself at home,” you said, busying yourself with the bouquet. “I still have to put a few things away… Wipe down a few surfaces. It’ll take me five minutes tops.”

Remus nodded, his hands still in his pockets as he turned on his heel, perusing his way toward the bookshelves near the front of the cafe.

Rather than getting to the work that you had, you watched him.

His long, slender fingers grazed the books as he looked at them, taking his time to look at each spine. He gasped quietly to himself, pulling the book from the shelf.

“Do you mind?” He asked as if he knew you were looking at him, holding up a book.

“As long as you bring it back,” you replied, instantly getting back to work to hide your reddened cheeks.

“I’ll probably be back here tomorrow,” he said, slipping the book in his pocket. “If you’ll have me.”

“Oh, I’d have you anytime,” you replied, glancing up at him to catch him staring and smiling softly. Your heart clenched as you cleared your throat. “What book did you pick?”

“The Shining by Stephen King.” Remus made his way back to the counter, watching you as you put dishes away. “Have you read it?” You nodded, finishing up. “Was it any good?”

“Do you want to know what it’s about?” You asked, facing him as he nodded. You smiled, undoing your apron. “Alright. I’ll tell you all about it.”

“So Danny can see these people?” Remus asked, clutching the book to his chest as he kept up with you on the quick walk.

“Well, they’re ghosts,” you laughed at his reaction. “They aren’t real-”

“Ghosts are very much real,” he said, his eyebrows raised. “I’ve seen them.”

“Well in this case, Danny sees them in his head,” you explained. “It’s the shine.”

“Ahh, I love it when the book title works its way into the story,” Remus sighed, smiling as you slowed. “Is this you?”

You nodded. “This is me,” you confirmed, looking down at the cup of flowers. “You uh-”

“I’ll see you around,” he said quietly, squeezing your elbow.

“You can come up.” You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat. “Uh- If you want?”

Remus seemed to stand straighter. “I would love that.”

You smiled, pushing open the complex door, holding it for him to duck inside.

He followed you closely up the stairs, his hands in his pockets. You focused on your feet, knowing that if you didn’t, you’d surely trip. Your brain was screaming, but you kept quiet, the burning in your chest coming back.

You made it to your flat, and you fumbled with the keys, unlocking your door and shuffled inside, Remus in tow.

Closing the door you sighed. “Did you give me a love potion?” You asked candidly, setting the flowers on the counter.

“What?” Remus was still at the door, toeing off his shoes.

“At the wedding?” You could feel your face flushing, feeling stupid, but continuing on anyway. “You gave me a potion you called a sober-up potion… Was it actually-”

“Love potions are very unstable,” he said quietly. “Why would you think that I’d give you one?”

You shrugged. “It’s an easier explanation than what’s really going on.”

“And that is?”

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” you admitted quietly. “That’s stupid, right?”

“I don’t think that’s stupid,” Remus quietly cooed. “I really like you,” he started, his hand now on your shoulder. “I don’t reckon you heard that at the pub even though I told you thrice.”

“Still?” You guffawed when he nodded matter-of-factly. “Remus, I don’t think if you’re remembering right, but I was a c-”

“You should really listen,” he reminded you, his tone lilting. You stopped, crossing your arms over your chest. He took a step away from you, leaning on the counter across from you. “You were looking at the moon. Saying how you preferred the sun more because without it, the moon would just be another dark rock. That made me think, you know? Would I be just a dark rock without you someday? Could I ever get so lucky?”

Your heart clenched at his words, but he continued, ignoring the way your eyebrows pinched together as you nodded.

“Sunflowers,” he said, nodding at the bouquet in its coffee cup vase. “They reminded me of you. They represent sunshine, you know.”

You felt like crying. You felt like kissing him and never stopping. Nobody had ever been this kind, this open, with you before. You swallowed, looking away from him.

“I got full body chills when I caught you looking at me at Lily’s wedding. I thought, ‘I need to buck up and talk to him.’ Then you talked to me while I was reeling over how handsome you are,” you said quietly.

Remus shook his head softly. “You’re just saying-”

“No,” you said, cutting him off. “It’s your turn to listen.”

He conceded, hands going up in quiet allowance for you to continue. You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“I regretted going to the pub because you were there, and you felt different. Like… like the one that got away.” It was like word-vomit. Once you started, you just couldn’t stop, so you continued. “The one that didn’t want me, and I’m so desperate for someone to want me that I start to get angry. I want to be wanted, you know? And I was terrified, Remus, because I love you, and it seemed like you wanted nothing to do with me. A-and now, I just can’t believe that someone like you would want something like me.

“Someone who yelled at you for a misunderstanding. Someone who opens her stupid mouth and ruins absolutely everything.” You hadn’t realized that you started crying until you paused to take a breath, sniffling up tears instead. “Someone who isn’t magic- God, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” he said, crossing to where you were standing. Slightly crouching, he held your arms, thumbs brushing your biceps lightly. “None of that matters,” he cooed. “I was never mad. A little confused, but hey, aren’t we all?”

You let out a wet chuckle, shrugging. “I suppose.”

“I want you, okay?” He said, cupping your cheeks. “I want you.”

Remus leaned in, eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes as if waiting for your approval. You met him halfway, capturing his lips in yours in a soft kiss. Your heart clenched as you pushed closer to him, hands meeting his stubbly jaw before he pulled away.

“I love you, and you are wanted, alright? Don’t you ever forget that,” he reassured you, smiling.

You nodded. “Okay,” your voice came out raspy, causing you to flush. “Could we do that again?”

“Oh, I’d have you anytime, love,” he said. “Anytime.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x muggle!fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #harvest moon #i'm not in love #i'd have you anytime

214 notes · View notes

sailor-aviator · 7 months

Text

Fool's Fare: Chapter Three

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Triggers: Language, Excessive alcohol consumption, Talks of the supernatural. Think that's it.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Here is Chapter Three! I hope you all enjoy! I'm hoping to start working out the timeline for the DPU again so I can post an update for Outrun the Devil here soon, but I might update Meet Me at the Sea again before I do. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! You can also find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I post my updates as well!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

The town of Port Royal was crowded with men of different ilk the likes of which you had never seen. The Hangman had docked in the early hours of the morning, and once you had finished helping Bob prepare and serve breakfast, you had dragged the young man down the gangway and onto the street, heart hammering away with excitement.

“We can’t be gone too long,” Bob said, grinning at your clear excitement. “We have to be back in time to prepare supper.”

“What’s the point of traveling if we can’t even see the sights?” you scowled, pushing your way through the heavy throng of people around you. A few men gave you dirty looks as you did, but you paid them no mind. Men were rarely able to back up their bark with enough bite, in your experience, but you pressed onward without so much as a second glance at them.

“Pete, we are seeing the sights,” Bob chuckled behind you.

You turned to fix him with a scowl. “We’re seeing, but we aren’t appreciating. How can we when we only have a few hours?”

“I think you’re overestimating how much there is for us to do around here,” he laughed. You paid him no mind as you neared the market of the old pirate hub. Men bargained with each other at several of the different stalls, and groups of women were scattered along the streets looking for paying customers to share their bed for the evening.

“Ahoy, handsome,” a pretty redhead grinned at you as she leaned over the railing of the brothel. “You look like you’ve hardly reached manhood, and I don’t suppose you have much experience under your belt. Can I interest you in some lessons?”

“I, uh,” you stammered, blinking up at her nervously. “No, thank you, miss.”

“Shame,” she smirked, eyes looking behind you. “And what about you, sailor?”

You turned to see Bob looking as red as a tomato as he glanced nervously at you. “No, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’ll be here if either of you change your mind,” she grinned, tossing her long curls back to show off her ample cleavage. “Just ask for Lucy when you come back.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” you blushed, hurrying to move forward with Bob hot on your tail. The two of you continued on a little farther until a glint of light caught your eye. You walked slowly up to the stall, several men grousing at you as you crossed right in front of their paths, but you paid them no mind. Your eyes were locked on a beautiful necklace that lay on top of a small wooden chest at one of the stalls. The golden chain held a six-pointed star, tiny diamonds encircling a burning opal. You had never seen something so beautiful before.

“I see you’ve found the soul of Polaris.”

You jumped, looking up to see an older man with a salt and pepper beard staring down at you. His accent was foreign, and if you had to guess, you’d say the man was from somewhere in Scotland.

“Is that what this is?” you asked him, looking back down at the jewel.

“Aye,” he continued, folding his arms. “They say a sea witch fell madly in love with a sailor long ago. When the two finally met face to face, the witch proclaimed her love for the man, but what she didn’t know is that the man was disgusted by her form. You see, the sea witch was also a mermaid, a siren of the sea. For while the witch was fair of face, the sailor knew what monster lay beneath the surface. So, he told her that he would only accept her love if she offered him something valuable.”

“And that was the gem?” you asked him, eyes wide. The old man chuckled with a shake of his head.

“No, lad. Wasn’t the gem,” he explained. “Was what the gem holds. There’s nothing more important to a sailor than the north star herself. Every man worth his salt knows that much. No, the gem holds an ancient magic. A magic to calm the sea and guide men to what it is they need most.”

“Which is what?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It’s different for every man.”

“Why are you selling it if it’s so valuable?” Bob chimed in, eyes narrowed at the man.

“Because it showed me that it’s time to pass it along, and I’m nothing if not a man who loves a proper sale,” he grinned. “Are ye interested?”

Before you could answer, Bob grabbed your elbow, pulling you away.

“No, we’re not,” he huffed out. You let out a cry of protest as he dragged you through the crowd. It wasn’t until the merchant faded from view that he finally slowed down, and you jerked your arm out of his hand.

“What was that about?” you griped, glaring up at him. He looked around the crowd wearily before shaking his head.

“Just didn’t like the look of him, is all.”

“Oh, that’s all?” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “What if I wanted to buy it?”

“Yeah?” Bob bit out a sharp laugh. “With what money?”

You were silent for a moment, and he nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

“You don’t have to be such an ass, you know,” you muttered, looking away dejectedly. You heard Bob sigh before he placed a hand gently on your shoulder.

“Look,” he began, “I’m sorry. I just don’t like anything having to do with magic or witches or anything of the sort.”

“Why’s that?” you asked him.

Bob didn’t answer you, instead looking somewhere off in the distance before grinning down at you.

“C’mon,” he said, once again pulling you through the crowd. “There’s something I want you to see.”

You allowed him to tug you along, the crowd thinning as the two of you moved closer to the edge of town. Finally, the cobblestone streets gave way to white sands and the stunning blue of the ocean. You felt your breath catch in your throat as you looked out onto the horizon. How you hadn’t noticed it when you departed the ship earlier, you didn’t know, but now your gaze was transfixed by it. This blue was so different from the blue you grew up seeing every day. Where your home’s waters were usually a dark, stormy blue, Port Royal’s water shined like topaz.

“I didn’t know the sea could look like this,” you breathed out.

“I knew you’d like it,” Bob smiled, turning his focus to the water before you. The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments before Bob turned to you once more. “C’mon, we best get back to the ship.”

“What’s all the commotion up there?” you asked Bob, hearing the stampede of footsteps above you on the main deck. Bob glanced up, a smile crawling onto his face.

“Sounds like they’re back aboard,” he grinned, rushing towards the door.

“Who is ‘they?’” you called after him, but he was already gone. You sighed, eyeing the ingredients for dinner before making your way after him. A crowd had gathered by the gangway, and you stopped at the edge where Bradley stood.

“What’s going on?” you asked him.

He shrugged. “Guess we’re here to pick up two other crew members from what I’ve gathered.”

You hummed, craning your neck to try and peer over the horde of men. You managed to catch a glimpse of two figures on the other side of the crowd; one man and one woman.

“Natasha!” You heard Bob cry. You saw the head of sandy hair bounce up to the woman who smiled at him. “How was it? How did it go?”

“Bob!” Natasha hollered as she pulled the young man in for a tight hug. “It’s good to see you. It was great!” She gestured to the man beside her. “You should have seen Mickey haggling with that old codfish! Thought we might get away without payin’ a cent there for a second. And then just when we had him, the codger backed out.”

She grimaced at the memory. “Couldn’t for the life of us figure out why he would back out at the last second. Just as we were headed back here though, he stopped us and offered another deal, one too good to pass up.”

“And so you took the deal.”

Everyone turned to see Jake, having just come from his quarters, at the edge of the crowd. He strutted towards the pair with a cocky smirk.

“You bet your ass we took that deal,” grinned the man, Mickey, as the captain approached. “We were leaving with it one way or another.”

“Lucky for the old man, he came to his senses,” smirked Natasha, arms crossing in front of her. Jake hummed as he stopped in front of them.

“And where is our little treasure?” he asked them. Mickey rifled through his pockets before pulling something out. The chain dropped to reveal a six-pointed star with tiny diamonds surrounding a burning opal. You gasped as Mickey handed the necklace over to Jake, who quickly pocketed it. He turned back to the rest of the crew.

“Alright, you lot. Show’s over. Get back to work! We set sail in an hour.”

The crew clambered to prepare the ship for launch, but you continued to stare at the small group on the other side of the ship.

“I’m going to freshen up in my quarters,” Natasha told the two with a smile, already making her way to where the cabins were housed. You gaped before looking over at Bradley.

“Bradley,” you hissed at him. Bradley swallowed thickly.

“She’s a woman.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s got a cabin on the ship.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s a member of the crew.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”

Before you could say more, Bob had come bounding up to you. “Are you ready to get back to cooking?”

You shot one last glare at Bradley, who looked everywhere but back at you. That idiot.

“Yeah,” you grumbled, turning to head back into the hull. “I’m ready.”

“Why is that woman a member of the crew?” you asked Bob as you scrubbed at the pot in your hands. “I thought woman weren’t allowed on ships?”

“On most ships, yes,” he told you as he finished dishing out portions for the crew. “But Jake doesn’t really care who is crew is made up of as long as they carry their own weight and don’t cause any problems.”

You hummed. “So anyone can just join, huh?”

“I suppose,” he mused. “Jake doesn’t let anyone join the crew unless he thinks their worthy and have something to offer. A lot of men were skeptical when Nat first joined, but she quickly made a name for herself as the Phoenix.”

“The Phoenix?” you questioned, pausing your scrubbing to look at him. He nodded with wide, excited eyes.

“Yeah! Whenever we come upon a ship to plunder, she does this thing where she’ll light the ends of her coat on fire. It smolders, giving her this terrifying look like she just rose out of the flames. That’s why, ya know…”

“The Phoenix,” you finished for him, turning back to your work. “Do you all have nicknames like that?”

“Some of us, sure,” he replied. “But our names work just fine. Now help me pass these out to the crew.”

You moved to help him and the two of you began taking the dishes out to where the crew had gathered around the massive tables.

“Cabin boy!”

You turned to see Natasha waving at you with a mug of ale.

“Come join us,” she grinned. You glanced at Bob who nodded.

“Go, I can get the rest,” he smiled. You nodded back at him and made your way over to where Natasha sat with Reuben and Mickey.

“Take a seat, cabin boy,” Natasha grinned, taking a sip of her ale. You did as she commanded, eyes darting between the three sailors as they stared at you.

“Is it true?” she asked you with a raised eyebrow.

“Is what true?”

“That your dad is Maverick Mitchell!” Mickey grinned, leaning in closer to you. A large figure slid in beside Reuben.

“What are we talking about?” Bradley asked, glancing between you and the other three.

“We were just starting to ask the cabin boy here about his father, Rooster” Reuben told him, taking a bite of his food. Bradley’s mouth set in a firm line as the three turned their attention back to you.

“What was he like?” Mickey asked you, practically bouncing in his seat. You shrugged noncommittally as you took a bite off your own plate.

“I don’t really know what you're expecting me to say.”

“Well, was he just as daring as the stories say? Did he take you out on his trips? Did you help him plunder? Did he ever find the treasure he was looking for?”

“Alright,” Natasha groaned, setting a calming hand down on his shoulder to stop him. Bob chose that moment to join the lot of you, sliding in next to her on the opposite side of the table. “Settle down, fanboy.”

“I can’t help it!” He hollered. “It’s not every day you meet the kid of one of the greatest pirates known to man.”

You stilled, seeing Bradley tense up on the other side of Reuben.

“What?” You whispered, eyes wide as you stared at Mickey who stared at you uncertainly.

“Pete Mitchell was your father,” Mickey said slowly, glancing around the table. “Right?”

“Yes, he was,” you said firmly.

“Pete Mitchell, better known as Maverick,” Reuben rattled off, “was a world renowned pirate of the highest order. His very name struck fear into the hearts of many a ship’s captain and crew. He was respected both far and wide by civilians and sailors alike.”

“Until one day he just disappeared,” Natasha added, studying you curiously. “Said his life’s mission was to find the greatest treasure the world could offer, and he plundered and stole for decades before dropping off the face of the earth.”

You felt like you were going to be sick. You didn’t know this man they were talking about. You knew the man who told you stories before bed, who showed you the proper ways to tie different knots, who always treated you kindly and had a smile at the ready for you, who never once raised his voice in anger at you or your mother. The man they were talking about was a stranger.

Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest cup to you, Natasha’s, and downed it. The ale did little to ease your comfort, and you grabbed Reuben’s next and did the same.

“Woah there, cabin boy,” Reuben called out as you reached for Mickey’s. “Slow down there.”

You didn’t want to slow down. You wanted to forget. You downed Mickey’s cup and searched for more. The men to your right had watched the scene unfold, and one of them let out a low chuckle before pushing his cup towards you.

“There ya go, cabin boy!” He laughed. “Drink up!”

You happily obliged him, downing the nearly full mug in only a couple of gulps. You stood, head already beginning to feel both light and heavy all at the same time. You had never had more than one cup of ale before, but you weren’t worried about that fact in that moment. You stumbled on your feet as you made to move towards the barrel that had been opened for that night’s dinner.

“No,” Bradley said from behind you, having gotten up when you did. “You’ve had enough.”

You whirled around to face him, nearly falling on your face in the process. “I’ll decide when I’ve had enough,” you hissed up at him, trying and failing to push past him as he gripped your arms.

“That’s enough,” he growled down at you, but you continued to push at him until he gave you a gentle shake. “I know you’re upset, but this is not how you should be handling it.”

You stared up at him, studying him. Why was he being so calm about this revelation that had just been dropped into your lap?

“You knew,” you breathed, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me.”

Bradley stiffened, hands tightening ever so slightly on your shoulders. He looked defeated as he let out a sigh. “He didn’t want you to know.”

“Bastard!” you screamed at him, your struggle renewing with a vengeance.

“What’s going on here?”

All of you stopped and turned. Javy stood at the end of the stairs, eyes scanning the room and the scene before him. He frowned when he saw the state you were in.

“Cabin boy,” he said slowly, eyes always studying you. “Go get some air.”

You took a breath before pushing at Bradley who stumbled back half a step. You staggered toward the stairs, hearing Javy address the crew. You didn’t hear what he said, too focused on making it up to the main deck.

The air had grown cool as the sun began to set, and you staggered towards the edge of the boat. You grasped onto one of the ropes, feeling your resolve start to break. The tears started to fall and you let out a shaky sob into the wind.

“Rough night, cabin boy?”

You turned, vision hazy from the ale, to see Jake standing a few feet away from you.

“What do you care?” You muttered, frowning at him. He let out a low chuckle before walking over to lean against the side of the ship next to you. The two of you stared at one another for a few moments, but said nothing.

“He was a pirate,” you whispered, almost inaudibly, the tears still flowing down your cheek. Jake nodded.

“Aye,” he said. “He was.”

“But he was a good man,” you frowned, more of a question than a statement. Jake cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Can’t a man be both?”

You shrugged, head starting to feel even heavier. “I suppose so.”

Jake let out another chuckle, leaning into you a little more. “You suppose so?” he teased.

“Yeah,” you nodded sleepily. “S’pose so.”

Jake reached up to cup your cheek as he watched you. “How much did you have to drink down there tonight, Guppy?”

“D’unno,” you muttered, subconsciously nuzzling into the palm of his hand. “More than I’ve ever ha’ before.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment before your eyes shot open, staring at him. What did he just call you?

Jake watched you with a knowing smirk as you struggled to form a coherent thought through the alcohol induced haze.

“You catchin’ up there alright, Guppy?” he asked you, a grin breaking out over his face.

“How long have you-?”

“Since you walked up to the ship behind Rooster, sweet girl. You think I’d just forget a pretty face like yours?” he laughed as you scowled up at him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you snapped.

He shrugged. “Figured things would be much more interesting this way. Besides, you looked so cute thinkin’ you had fooled me into thinkin’ you were a boy. Wanted to see how long you’d play into it.”

“So why bother saying anything?” You grumbled. His grin dropped as he stared at you with a stern expression.

“Cause you went and did a stupid thing like gettin’ too drunk. Now I gotta worry ‘bout you ‘round some of these men.”

“You don’t trust your own men?” You asked him, eyebrow raised. He chuckled lowly, placing a large, warm hand to the small of your back.

“While I believe they aren’t stupid enough to try anything with me or your brother on board the ship, I’d sleep much better tonight havin’ not taken the chance.”

“Wait,” you said, his words catching up with you. “They know?”

Jake laughed at that. “Darlin’, everyone knew the moment you set foot on the ship. That brother of yours needs to work on his disguises.”

You scowled up at him as he helped you towards the cabins. He beamed down at you, eyes twinkling, and you could have sworn you saw a blue mist twirl in his pupils as he stared down at you.

“C’mon. You can bunk with Natasha from here on out.”

171 notes · View notes

kokoch4n3l · 2 months

Text

DEAD GIRL’S BEACH࿐ྂ KUROKAWA IZANA x f!oc x SANO MANJIRO

TWO — beachy dreams

“he had trauma stemming from childhood. abandonment issues? currently unsure. he says he has a house on the beach. rich? 100% sure. lol would he adopt me if I ask?” — MAYA'S ROUGH NOTES ON K.I

chapter summary: Maya finds herself at Chifuyu's place with his rowdy friends before hitting the club and she's drawn into flirtatious exchanges with a mysterious club owner. Tensions arise when a revelation links Maya's work to her social circle. Izana gives her an intriguing invitation.

chapter warnings: mentions of body image, clubbing, alcohol use, intoxication, mentions/implications of forced prostitution, mentions of gang violence, inaccurate depictions of psychiatric hospitals, f!oc with zero self preservation skills

word count: 4764

moodboard | masterlist | previous | chapter 3

"didn't know you were keeping this pretty lady to yourself Chifuyu! How cruel" One of Chifuyu's friends, Mitsyua Takashi, says with a soft croon

It's 7 pm and Maya's just reached Chifuyu's place due to a change of plans. Originally it was supposed to be her and him going to some restaurant to catch up but Chifuyu's friends from middle school had also been pestering him to meet up which resulted in Chifuyu changing plans last minute and bringing Maya to his place to pre-game before going to a club. Chifuyu had picked her up from her apartment and brought her to his apartment where his friends had already come inside due to having the code for his door. "Mitsuya-kun, she's 6 years younger than you" Chifuyu hisses at Mitsuya, hiding Maya behind him

Maya felt her cheeks tinge pink at the attention she was suddenly receiving from all the people in Chifuyu's apartment. There were so many people there and she kind of hated Chifuyu for not warning her earlier. There were mostly only guys here and 2 other girls. Everyone was dressed in typical club attire. Maya herself was in a matching set, a lilac mini skirt and a matching crop top in the same colour. The crop top had a spaghetti v-neck line and was slightly cinched in the center. It was backless, held together by a button she had taken around 10 minutes to do by herself. Both pieces clung to her skin, accentuating her thin body and even somehow making her lack of boobs look bigger. Slightly that is(Maya unfortunately wasn't blessed in that area). The fabric of both pieces were slightly sparkly and she had done matching makeup with it and wore platform heels and a leather jacket on top and two diamond studs in her ears. Of course, she couldn't forget the two necklaces she was wearing. One was a gold oval pendant with a delicate border and the outline of a daffodil flower in the center of it. The second necklace, also gold, was a small butterfly pendant. Maya never exactly took these necklaces off. Yes, she was supposed to remove her jewellery for her job but Sunshine Grove was surprisingly lenient. But still, she always kept her necklaces tucked underneath her shirt and only ever wore stud earrings or none at all at work. "Oh well—"

"Oh my you're so cute" Maya feels her face being grabbed "Matsuno, where have you been hiding her!?"

Maya comes back to face with a tall girl with ginger hair and brown eyes. "Guys please stop scaring her and embarrassing me" Chifuyu grumbles in annoyance at his friends, pulling Maya out of the tall girl's grasp

Maya turned bright red and shifted on her feet, unsure of what to say in front of so many people who were clearly older. "This is Kaneko Maya. 5 and 6 years younger than all of us" Chifuyu says "stop scaring her I swear to god"

Maya waves nervously and the room gets quiet for a moment. She shifts. Oh man, this was a bad idea. She should have just told Chifuyu that they could reschedule but her damn lovesick brain just accepted the offer of going with him and his friends. What felt like hours to Maya was a mere few seconds to everyone else and they all started introducing themselves to her. Well, all except for the ginger-haired girl, Shiba Yuzuha's, younger but very tall model brother, Shiba Hakkai(he's apparently afraid of women). Maya doesn't usually drink much. So as the rest of them around her are taking a few shots, she sits on the sofa next to Tachibana Hinata who just doesn't drink at all. Maya can't help but notice the four leaf clover necklace she was wearing. "So when did you and Chifuyu-kun meet?" Hinata asks

Hinata seemed sweet. Like too sweet. Like an angel from fucking heaven. "uh... When I was in middle school... Like 7th grade"

Then comes Hanemiya Kazutora who leisurely takes a seat in front of both of them on the coffee table. Kazutora was Chifuyu's roommate and really the only other person Maya knew here. Maya knew about how Kazutora went to jail in his youth and got out recently but she didn't ask for what. "so how's your job with the crazy people doin' Maya?" Kazutora asks with a grin and Hinata gives Maya a confused look

Maya laughs nervously. "Uh... I'm a psychiatrist... I work at a psychiatric hospital"

"Oh wow... Must be hard work" Hinata says with a smile "That's great that you got hired this young. I heard hospitals rarely hire people fresh out of university"

Maya nods. "Yeah got rejected by everyone at first and ended up at this shitty psychiatric hospital, Sunshine Grove, just outside of Tokyo. They pay well but the place is scary"

"Sunshine Grove, huh" Kazutora says slowly as if trying to remember where he heard the name of the hospital

But Kazutora's thoughts are cut off by Draken, a super tall intimidating guy with a dragon tattoo on the side of his head, calling them and telling them it is time for them to leave. The room is filled with hooting from the boys. Maya can't help but laugh a bit. Chifuyu's friends were nice. "Come on Maya, we're gonna have so much fun tonight" Yuzuha says pulling her off the couch

They make it to the club not too long later. Maya is linking arms with Hinata and holding hands with Yuzuha. The lineup is pretty big and Maya wonders how long it will take for them to get in. But to her surprise, the boys are all walking straight up to the entrance. "Huh? shouldn't we get in line?" Maya asks Hinata

Hinata and Yuzuha look at each other for a moment then at Maya. "ah~ the boys know the owners" Hinata explains "we always come here since it's the safest out of all the ones they own"

Hinata's words raise a few red flags in Maya's head. Safest out of all the ones they own? What did that even mean? "a friend's I'm assuming" Maya says as they reach the bouncer

Yuzuha scoffs. "Please, the last thing any of them would call each other is friend"

That concerns Maya even more. If they weren't even friends, why the fuck were they here. They make it to the front of the line and instantly the bouncer starts letting them in but stops Maya. "Hey, she's with us too" Mitsuya says lowly and Chifuyu looks pissed now

The bouncer scoffs. "I know you guys are special guests of the Haitanis but I'm sure they wouldn't want a minor in the club either. ID"

Maya feels embarrassed by this. She pulls her phone out of the inside pocket of her leather jacket, takes her ID out of her case, and hands it to the bouncer. "Birth year?" The bouncer asks

Her cheeks burn in embarrassment as all of Chifuyu's friends watch the entire thing play out. "1996" She squeaks out

The bouncer looks between her and the ID card a few times then gives it back to her and lets her in. "Oh god that was embarrassing" Maya whimpers to Chifuyu who now has an arm around her shoulder, guiding her through the club up to the VIP section

"It's fine Maya" Chifuyu says with a laugh into her ear over the loud music "Can't control how young you look"

Her heart beats faster when she feels Chifuyu's breath against her skin. He guides her to sit in the VIP booth and then slides in next to her. His arm goes around her shoulders once again as he talks to his friends. Maya feels her face go pink. Thankfully the lights are dim and no one could tell. "let's go get the ladies some shots" Mitsuya says and drags Hakkai and Draken with him

"Fuck I have a feeling all of us are gonna black out tonight" Kazutora says with a laugh

The music is more muffled in the VIP section. Maya wonders if it's because of the connection Chifuyu and his friends have with the owners that they're able to be here. Honestly speaking, despite having known Chifuyu for so long, she's never been to the club with him. It was usually only restaurants, cafes, parks and just fun places like that. This was the first time Maya was out clubbing with Chifuyu. "You okay?" Chifuyu murmurs into her ear, her breath brushing against her skin

Maya's heart beats faster at the feeling and she suppresses a shiver. Chifuyu's arm around her shoulder tightens and he pulls her a bit tighter into his side. "listen, anything happens tonight, you're not feeling well, something does something, everyone is here for you. Not just me, okay?" He says and Maya almost flinches when she feels his lips brush against her ear "Understand"

She almost can't respond. "Y-Yeah... I understand"

Chifuyu is probably tipsy because he kisses her cheek and turns around to talk to Kazutora. Maya sits there stunned and if it weren't for the flashing neon lights, everyone would see how flushed her face was. She lets out a shuddery breath and gulps, hoping no one saw that. Thankfully everyone was too tipsy to actually notice and soon after Mitsuya, Draken and Hakkai bring more shots, they drink some more and everyone is drunk. Everyone except Draken and Mitsuya who were apparently the designated drivers for tonight. Jun thinks she's drunk, somewhat. She stumbles off the dance floor away from Hinata and Yuzuha to the bar where the music wasn't as louder. Everyone was scattered around, talking to girls or whoever. She's drunk out of her mind at this point and just one more drink away from blacking out. Just as she's about to call the bartender over, someone stands beside her. "haven't seen you before" someone says,

Maya looks up and sees a very tall guy. His hair is short, coloured purple and black. His skin is pale and his eyes are lilac. Woah he was handsome. "I doubt you could keep track of who comes and goes unless you're here every day" Maya tells him with a smile

The man chuckles. "This is my club sweetheart, I know who comes and goes"

Maya giggles drunkenly, too far gone to remember that Hinata and Yuzuha said the boys weren't that good of friends with the club owner. "Really? You're rich?" she asks and leans in closer

The man sighs and leans in closer as well, with a tentative finger brushing one of her wavy locks behind her ear. "All pretty girls are gold diggers huh?" he says it more to himself than to her

Maya pouts. "'m not a gold digger" She pokes his arms and has to tilt her head back to look at him despite wearing heels "I have student loans and need to pay them off y'know"

The man starts to laugh and he drapes an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in closer. Maya stumbles forward and he catches her against his chest. "I like honest girls..." He murmurs sweetly, sounding like he was crooning

Maya finds herself attracted to the club owner. Not just because of his money but he was definitely very charismatic. Her hands somehow find their way up, hooking her fingers into the belt loops of his pants and he smiles, seemingly satisfied by her action. His free hand comes up and cups her cheek, brushing his thumb against her cheekbone in a gentle affectionate manner. The same way she wanted Chifuyu to touch her. Maya's expression turns sour at the thought of her unrequited love and she turns away from the club owner. "Hey, what's wrong sweetheart?" he asks, holding her cheek again to make her face him "thought we were having a moment"

"Need a drink..." Maya says with a frown as the man keeps his arm tightly around her shoulder

He presses her into his side and chuckles. "yeesh, I know that look" he says and asks the bartender to make her a drink, on the house apparently

Maya looks up at the man and sees he's already looking at her. "So what's your name pretty lady?" He asks

"Maya" She answers, not smiling anymore

She needed more alcohol before she could smile again. The man, however, grins. He's charming and clearly doesn't mind Maya's mood swings. "Haitani Ran, owner of this as you already know"

Maya had a feeling she had heard this guy's name somewhere. She couldn't put her finger on it. But the bartender puts her drink in front of her so she doesn't think about it anymore and basically chugs it. Ran then decides to order shots and Maya might as well be blackout drunk at this point. But at least she wasn't thinking about Chifuyu anymore. "so cute, hm" Ran says pressing her into his side

His skin was warm and despite how sweaty the club was now, Maya couldn't help but like it. Ran smelled really good too. Like that expensive cologne she smelled at Sephora the other day when she went shopping with Chifuyu. Jo Malone if she remembered correctly. "You've got this lovesick look in your eyes" Ran says as he holds her cheek in one hand, making her tilt her head back so she is looking right at him

(Eye contact was important for Haitani Ran. It was the way into a woman's heart after all.)

"I do?" she mumbles drunkenly, practically leaning into Ran at this point who didn't mind, holding her up against his side

"Yeah, someone break your heart?" Ran's tone is condescending but also holds a sense of curiosity in it

Maya groans. "Not yet" she pouts, her words starting to slur together "he doesn't like me back... Haven't confessed to him 'cause I know he doesn't like me... Says 'm too young for 'im"

She feels dumb dumping all her feelings to a stranger but she's far too intoxicated to care. There was no harm done anyway. "poor little girl" Haitani Ran coos, his tone almost mocking as he runs a hand through her hair "I guess he's missing out on the fun of younger girls, hm..."

He sounds dangerous. Scary. Had Maya been sober she would have run far away from Haitani Ran the moment he came up to her. But with the mixture of the alcohol and her lovelorn state, it was hard to really get a grasp on reality and the dangers of this situation. "younger girls are adorable and real needy" Ran murmured, looking down at her "You sure are needy"

Maya wanted to retort, say something back but she finds herself getting a bit lost in her own head trying to come up with a response to him. She just stares up at him until she's suddenly ripped out of Ran's arms. "Hands off Haitani" A familiar voice warns as her back is now pressed against someone's chest

Maya looks down at her waist where a strong arm is tightly wrapped around her and she faintly recognizes Mitsuya's rings and watch. "Oh, this one of yours Mitsuya?" Ran says with a chuckle "C'mon don't be greedy. Was just havin' some fun"

She feels Mitsuya hold her tighter and Maya's knees feel weak so she leans back against him. "We all know what your version of fun is. Take videos and use them till they're dead. Leave her alone" Mitsuya says angrily

Maya can't see Mitsuya's face but she can assume he's probably pissed as hell. "What's going on?" she slurs, turning her head back to look at Mitsuya

Mistuya and Ran are having a staring contest— Mitsuya looking pissed off and Ran just smiling like nothing is wrong. Maya on the other hand is too drunk to really care. Mitsuya is pissed off and Maya is admiring how hot he looks angry like an absolute idiot. Were all of Chifuyu's friends this hot? She sighs dreamily, admiring the way Mitsuya's neck tensed when he got angry. God-fuckin-damn. "stay away from her Haitani" Mitsuya hisses

Ran only laughs. "You're not a part of Toman anymore Mitsuya, I have no need to listen to you" He walks closer to them and leans down so he's on eye level with Maya "We've only kept our hands off Shiba and Tachibana out of respect for Mikey and Kisaki and for the sake of old times... Else—"

"Shut up" Mitsuya says before Ran can say anything else and looks down at Maya, hoping she is too drunk to remember any of this

Chifuyu had explicitly told all of them he didn't want Maya to they used to be a part of Tokyo Manji Gang and Mitsuya wanted to respect his wishes. "Not her" Mitsuya says and it's not up for discussion

Mitsuya drags her back to the booth and makes her sit down. He's standing over her, holding her face in his hands checking for injuries or something. Maya doesn't know. Mitsuya's cold hands just feel really good to her heated skin right now. "You sure have a thing for attracting dangerous people, hm?" Mitsuya says with a laugh, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear

Maya just stares up at Mitsuya, openly admiring him now and he laughs. "fuck you're cute" He coos and ruffles her hair like she's a little kid

Maya doesn't really remember what happens after that. She was up with a pounding headache in Chifuyu's room, lying in between Yuzuha and Hinata who were snoring away. They were both still in their outfits from last night as well as Maya. But she had a familiar zip-up hoodie over her two-piece outfit. Chifuyu's grey hoodie sits on her shoulders and Maya's heart flutters. Had she not been feeling like absolute shit, she would have been squealing and kicking her legs like a middle school girl. But Yuzuha and Hinata were still sleeping so she kept herself quiet. She carefully gets off the bed, trying her best not to wake the other girls and picks her purse off Chifuyu's bedside table and heads to the bathroom connected to the room. She closes the door and turns on the light and gasp seeing her face. Her mascara was running down her cheeks like she'd cried and her lipstick was smudged. Maya shudders at the thought of all of Chifuyu's hot friends(and Chifuyu himself) having seen her like this and pulls out makeup wipes from her purse. It was a good thing she kept makeup wipes, moisturizer and things like that in her purse. Thank god for Sephora and other brands selling mini versions of their products. Once Maya gets her face clean and fixes her hair she leaves the bathroom and picks her phone up from the bedside table, leaving her purse there instead. As expected, her phone was dead. She puts it on charge and sighs. Yuzuha and Hinata were still dead asleep. The digital clock in Chifuyu's room shows it was 10:45 am. Maya zips up the hoodie about half way and heads out of the room silently so she didn't wake the other girls up. As she heads for the kitchen, she hears voices.

"Haitani is a fucking bitch" That was Draken

"Did he try anything?" Now Chifuyu

"She was too drunk to tell me anything but I don't think so" Next Mitsuya

Huh? What were they talking about?

"All that matters is that she's alright" Now that was a new voice

Maya pulls down the end of her mini-skirt and walks over to the kitchen. Immediately their conversation stops. The boys all look at each other nervously and before Maya could say anything, Mitsuya speaks up first. "Good morning Maya, I made soup. You probably feel like shit"

Maya just nods and looks at the newcomer who was wearing a suit and looks slightly awkward right now. "Oh yeah uh... this is Tachibana Naoto, Hina-chan's younger brother" Chifuyu says "and Naoto this is Kaneko Maya"

They both greet each other and Maya takes a seat at the dining table next to Kazutora who looks like he doesn't want to be up right now, his duel coloured hair sticking up in multiple directions. As Maya looked over at the couch she could see Hakkai knocked out, snoring away, sleeping in a somewhat uncomfortable-looking position. As Maya slowly sips the soup Chifuyu starts talking about what Naoto does. "He's a detective. Handling the Tokyo Manji Gang case right now" Chifuyu says with a grin

Maya nods. "Oh that's cool. I'm a psychiatrist"

Naoto seems genuinely interested. "Really? Where do you work?"

"Sunshine Grove. It's like outside the city—"

"Sunshine Grove?" Naoto's voice completely changes "You work at Sunshine Grove?"

Maya nods slowly. "Yeah..."

Naoto looks worried and that makes the rest of the boys worried as well. "Why what's wrong?" Draken asks the detective

Naoto shakes his head. "Uh... Insider info. I found out Toman's number 3 is possibly admitted in there for cocaine addiction"

Maya raises a brow. Now that was news. She had no idea someone like that was admitted to Sunshine Grove. "Wait seriously?" Kazutora is wide awake now and the rest of them have dark expressions on their faces

"Apparently," Naoto says "It's not confirmed but, it's what my sources say"

They all look toward Maya as she's drinking her soup. Her eyes widen realizing they were expecting an answer from her. "O-Oh... I wouldn't know. I don't work with the patients who are there for addiction. That's second floor, I work fourth floor with the criminals"

Mitsuya starts to laugh while Chifuyu groans. "C'mon I thought I told you to tell them to switch you to another floor" He complains

Maya only pouts. "4th floor makes more money"

Mitsuya laughs even harder at that. "see I told you. She just attracts bad people"

"Do not!"

Later when Hinata and Yuzuha wake up, Naoto insists on exchanging numbers with Maya. "I know there is this whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing and I won't push it... But um... If there is ever anything wrong, please tell me" The detective says with a small smile, his suit jacket now worn by his older sister

Maya nods and they exchange numbers. Hakkai and Yuzuha leave not long after and then followed by Mistuya and Draken. "I saw that~" Kazutora teases

Maya pulls the hood of Chifuyu's hoodie over her head and collapses on the couch. "Saw what?" she asks, bringing her bare feet up on the couch, sitting in a kind of fetal position

"Naoto's got the hots for you~" He says in a singsong voice

Maya narrows her eyes. "Nah uh!"

"100 percent. I saw it too" Chifuyu says teasingly from the kitchen where he is washing the dishes "he was blushing so damn hard. So fuckin' cute"

"Shut up" she grumbles

Maya had in fact not noticed any of what Kazutora and Chifuyu were talking about. She had been too preoccupied looking at Chifuyu to really look at Naoto. Now she just feels bad. Naoto was about 4 years older than her, of course, Chifuyu was encouraging this. Chifuyu had never been a huge fan of age gap relationships especially if it's more than 3-4 years. Maya, as a psychiatrist, does not blame him. But oh how she wished she was born earlier so Chifuyu would at least look at her as something other than a child that hangs around him. She figures it was alright. Even if she were the same age as Chifuyu, she wouldn't have confessed anyway.

Why?

He just doesn't like her that way.

Monday comes along pretty fast as usual. Maya clocks in and greets the other doctors leaving from the day shift. She does her usual, give all the 4th-floor patients their food, collect their trays, bring the cart back down to the 1st floor then come back up and give either Mr. Ueda company or talk to Mr. Kurokawa if he is awake. "You know, you're rarely asleep," Maya says taking a seat on the chair in his room "When do you sleep?"

"I'm in here all day, I sleep when I want," Izana says simply with a shrug "You on the other hand doctor, I still don't understand why someone as young as you would take the night shift. You still have a lot of living to do"

His words sounded oddly ominous. But Maya just shrugs that feeling off with the thought of it just being her nerves and not yet used to the night shift among criminals. "I do my living on the weekends, Mr. Kurokawa," Maya tells him "went out clubbing this weekend and got blackout drunk... Wait you don't have a problem with alcohol do you?"

Maya realizes she had a slip of the tongue. She wasn't supposed to be talking about alcohol or things like that with patients. "Calm down doctor, I think we're past the point of a normal doctor and patient relationship. I basically know everything about you. And no, I don't have an alcohol problem. I'm not here for that" Izana says with a lazy grin "How about you continue your story"

Maya shifts a bit in her seat. She looks at the small notebook in her hand and flips through the pages to where she had written down possible offences and the possible things wrong with Izana. She crosses off alcoholism. So far the ones circled were abandonment issues, mommy issues, narcissism and sociopathy. She was starting from scratch with him so she had to make some assumptions. "Um... Well... Went clubbing with that guy I told you about on Friday. He's..." She pauses trying to find the right words "Older... like about 5 years"

"You like older men, doctor?" Izana is teasing her and it works, her cheeks flush

Maya clears her throat. "Anyways..." she grumbles "I met his friends for the first time... They were nice. We went to a club, and got blackout drunk. Everyone ended up crashing at his place and in the morning one of the girl's younger brother came to get her... He was a police officer and now my crush is trying to set me up with him"

Izana laughs. "Police officer? A psychiatrist and a police officer. That sounds chaotic"

Maya just shrugs. "Forget that, he's trying to set me up with someone else and it's just... ugh" she groans

Izana laughs even more. He seems to be enjoying her misery. "Don't laugh at me" she whines "You're probably single too"

Izana gives her a mocking smile. "I don't have a lack of ladies, doctor"

Maya doesn't doubt him one bit. Izana was handsome. She can imagine him being the center of attention wherever he goes despite his condescending behaviour. Some girls were into that after all(Maybe Maya too). They end up dropping the topic and soon another starts and then another. Izana tended to avoid talking about his past, particularly his childhood. Maya would try her absolute best not to push it. However, after spending hours of the night just talking, the topics would shift into typical first-date or ice-breaker questions. "So if money wasn't a problem where would you live?" She asks

"Money isn't a problem, doctor. I'm rich" Izana tells her "I can live where I want. What about you?"

Maya thinks for a moment. "The beach"

"The beach?" He repeats "Really?"

Maya shrugs. "Yeah, why not? Warm weather all the time, nice view. It'd be nice"

Izana hums, seemingly agreeing with her. "I can agree with that. I have a beach house. Bought one recently because my younger brother likes the sea"

Oh? He has a brother? "that's sweet... how much younger is he than you?" Maya can't help but start jotting things down in her notebook again

Izana watches in amusement. "3 years. An annoying little shit sometimes but he does what I say because I'm all he has left"

Now that was ominous. "hm... What do you mean?" Maya asks slowly, furrowing her brows

Izana doesn't say anything after that. At the end of the night before Maya leaves, Izana speaks up. "You know when I get out of here, you can come visit my beach house" He suggests with his usual lazy grin

Maya laughs a bit. "I don't think that's very appropriate Mr. Kurokawa"

She bids him goodbye and Izana sighs, staring at the metal door. "Well see about that, doctor"

notes: I’m creating a tag list for this fic so if you’d like to be apart of it tell me :)

71 notes · View notes