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froggibus · 1 year

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The Three Times You Share A Bed - Leon S Kennedy

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x reader

Genre: fluff, some light angst thrown in towards the end?

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: two times you sleep in leon's bed, and the one time he sleeps in yours

CW: roommate! Leon, kinda friends to lovers?, light angst, abandonment issues, paranoia, fear + insomnia, mentions of zombies, bedsharing, leon has intimacy issues (get therapy challenge)

OMG HAPPY RE4 RELEASE!!! I am SO excited to play once im done work this weekend! Leon looks so damn fine in the gameplay ive seen and i am going FERAL! pls no spoilers for anything new in the game! <3

RE4 remake spoiler free zone!! I have yet to play the remake so there are no spoilers in this!

————

The telltale clicking of a key in the door has you on your feet in seconds, abandoning the plush throw blanket on the couch. Before it even opens, you’re standing on the doormat. You feel a little silly, like a golden retriever waiting for its owner, but the shame is washed away when Leon steps through the door.

It’s been three weeks since you’ve last seen your roommate and best friend, and just as long since you last had company. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of you standing in front of him, the dark circles under his eyes becoming more prominent.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He sighs and drops his backpack on the floor, locking the door behind him.

“How was it?”

You fight the urge to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and inhale his scent, knowing that’s not what friends do. Still, the feeling is there and if he went in for it, you’d reciprocate in a heartbeat.

He opens the fridge and beams at the fully stocked drinks and snacks. He cracks open a can of cider and leans against the counter. “Long,” he admits, “way too long. And my nose is still burning from the smell of rotten flesh.” You crinkle your nose at the thought. Leon’s never been much of a talker and most of his work being classified didn’t help. Whenever something wasn’t top secret, though, you were sure to sit there and listen no matter how horrific the details were.

You settle in on the couch next to the agent, listening to him drone on about a zombie-like creature that had peeling flesh and fifty eyes. You could vividly picture it from his words alone, and the image of the creature sent a shiver up your spine.

Leon talks for hours, spilling every miniscule detail of every horror he encounters. You stay the whole time, nodding along. Leon laughs at the way you scrunch your face in disgust or close your eyes in fear. He hates how cute you are, but he can’t seem to stop telling you stories. After many hours and a few drinks between the two of you, he’s almost run out of stories to tell.

Leon pats your shoulder gently, collecting his cans from where he’d set them on the coffee table. “I need a shower,” he states. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

“Go shower. You stink,” you joke and punch him in the ribs.

He feigns injury at your blow, pretending to suck in a breath like you’d really hurt him. He keeps up the facade the whole way to his bedroom, only leaving character when he shuts the door behind him.

It’s only when he’s disappeared that you realize how late it's gotten—and how dark. Even though your shared apartment is on the 19th floor, you can’t help but worry something is going to crawl through your window. You shake the thoughts away and get ready for bed, but every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes you flinch.

You close your eyes and tug your comforter over your head, hoping that if there is something out there, it won’t know you’re there. You toss and turn for a while longer, staying dead quiet and pushing your fears away.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You take a deep breath, throw your comforter off of your shoulders, and sprint to Leon’s room. It’s like your brain is on autopilot—it knows exactly where to go to be safe.

You don’t knock on the door, instead quietly twisting the knob and slipping in through a crack in the door. Leon sits up as soon as your feet touch the wooden floor, eyes snapping towards your silhouette. He’s been a light sleeper ever since Racoon City, waking at the slightest of sounds.

He relaxes at the sight of you but only for a second. He glances at his digital clock, eyes widening at the time. “Y/n? What are you still doing up?”

“I-I couldn’t sleep…I feel like a flesh eating zombie is going to climb through my window and eat me.”

He chuckles. “That would be my fault.” He shuffles over in bed and pulls back the comforter. “You’re more than welcome to stay here for the night.”

You crawl into bed next to him, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible. You can feel his body heat radiating through the blankets and smell his body wash on his skin. The feeling is new, yet so familiar it eases you instantly.

“Leon?”

He hums in response.

“Is it safer to sleep next to the window or the door? From like, a secret agent standpoint.”

“We’re on the 19th floor so window, but unless it's a hotel room, the door. You would more than likely hear it if they broke down the front door so you’d have more time to get out.”

You think for a second. “Can we switch places?”

“Honestly, y/n,” he laughs dryly, “the safest place to sleep right now is next to me.”

Your face warms at that and you nod, relaxing into his pillows. While you drift off to sleep, Leon watches over you. He knows nothing is going to come for you here, but he did promise to keep you safe, and he’ll keep that promise no matter what.

—

When you get home, you’re in a foul mood. You practically throw the groceries onto the counter before walking to your room and throwing yourself onto your bed. It’s been a long day. All of the stores were so busy you could hardly get through the aisles, and all of the people you encountered were rude.

Leon comes out of his room a few minutes later. Seeing the groceries abandoned on the counter, his first thought is to check on you. He doesn’t check on you, though. Not yet, anyway. He knows you’ll just be more upset if the frozen items melt and the milk sits out all night, so he sets out on putting them away.

After almost an hour of laying in your bed trying to recuperate after the day you’ve had, you’re snapped out of it by a text.

Leon: Come here, I have a surprise for you

You don’t feel like leaving your bed, but you force yourself out of it anyway. It’s not Leon you’re mad at. Leon is probably the only person in the world you don’t hate right now. You knock on his door softly, holding your arms behind your back.

“Come in!” He shouts.

You open the door, shuffling into his room and closing it behind you. Your jaw drops when you see a tray in the middle of his bed piled high with your favorite snacks, drinks and two wine glasses. Leon pats the spot next to him and you’re happy to oblige, relaxing onto the mattress.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

He shrugs, pouring you a glass of wine. “It already seems like you had a bad day, I just wanted to do something to make it a little better for you.”

“Thank you.” He nods in acknowledgement, turning on his tv and handing you the remote. “You can choose the first movie. Just—maybe no zombies?”

You snort at that. Classic Leon, using his corny jokes to make light of even the worst of situations. You settle on an old favorite movie you love, handing the remote back to the blond and switching it for a wine glass.

Between your favorite movie, the delicious wine and your favorite snacks, your spirits are lifted in no time. One movie turns into two, and two turns into three. Soon enough, you’re dozing off in Leon’s bed.

He moves the tray of snacks and the glasses off of the bed to give you more room to sprawl out. Laying down next to you, he watches you sleep. A part of him wishes he could see this every night—the same sight he fantasizes about on even the hardest of missions.

He flicks off the lamp on his side table and settles in. “Good night, cutie,” he mumbles, knowing you’re far too deep in sleep to hear him.

—

You wake up in the middle of the night, moonlight streaming through the window and illuminating Leon’s bedroom. You’re still numb from sleep, your senses dulled just enough that it takes you a minute to realize that something is grabbing you. No, not grabbing—holding.

You blink a few times. Leon is laying next to you, his chest pressed to your back, his arms around your waist. You can feel the slow beating of his heart and the heat coming off of his skin. He’s so close it overwhelms you, yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

You think about slipping away but you know what a light sleeper he is, and you don’t think you could handle it if he woke up and saw how close you were. You close your eyes and try to calm the beating in your heart so you can fall back asleep.

When you wake up again, Leon is gone. Your body feels cold where his once was. You sit up—is he showering? He can’t be, the bathroom door is open. You sit up, letting the blankets fall off of you. You swing your legs over the side of his bed, walking out to the kitchen, but he’s not there either.

Did he leave to go get something?

You check your phone, expecting to see a text saying he ran out to go get more milk or something, but there’s nothing. You sigh, typing up a message and sending it to him.

Y/N: where’d you go?

You practically jump when your phone lets out a noise, but your heart sinks when you see what it is.

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

You sigh. That can only mean one thing: he’s on another mission. Typical Leon, disappearing in the middle of the night to go god knows where for god knows how long. The frustration bubbles up in your chest and you feel like hitting something, but you don’t. It’s not worth it.

You try to keep your mind off of his sudden disappearance by throwing yourself into chores. You wash his bedding and make his bed, then wash your own. You sweep and mop the floors and vacuum the carpets. You dust the blinds.

It doesn’t help.

Your mind keeps wandering back to the fact that he left without saying goodbye. That he woke up at some ungodly hour, saw you laying in his arms, got up and left without another word. He didn’t even leave a note. He really cares that little.

You shake your head and even though the pit in your stomach makes you feel like not eating, you make yourself a sandwich regardless. Seeing the untouched groceries in the fridge just adds to the feeling.

Even though you know he’s not going to get it, you pull out your phone and start typing.

Y/N: do you at least know when you’ll be back?

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

The message makes you roll your eyes. Leon fucking Kennedy.

—

A week goes by, and then two, and you still hear nothing from your roommate. You send texts here and there, hoping for an answer, but none of them go through. Eventually, you start venting to him through there, too. Expressing how frustrated you are that he didn’t say goodbye, how annoying your feelings are, how sometimes you wish you didn’t know him so you didn’t have to go through this.

It’s a random Sunday night when you’re sitting on the couch, watching trash reality tv and eating snacks. It’s cold in the apartment, but you can’t be bothered to turn on the heat. Only when your arms puff up with goosebumps do you scour the room for a sweater, settling on a random one hanging on the back of a chair.

It’s Leon’s, an old one from the Police Academy. His smell floods your nose when you pull it over your head, and it's so bittersweet you don’t know if you should laugh or cry. You settle back on the couch, but a rustling at the window makes you freeze in your tracks.

It stops for a moment, and you can almost convince yourself you’ve imagined it or it’s a part of the show—until it happens again. You scramble for the remote, pausing it so you can hear better. The noise starts again, and you waste no time in hightailing it to your bedroom and slamming the door behind you.

You flop onto your bed, trying (and failing) to remind yourself that it’s just the wind. That you’re safe here. But it’s hard when it’s late and you’re tired and you’re alone and the only person you feel safe with just abandoned you.

You curl up into a ball, pulling Leon’s sweater over your mouth and inhaling the familiar scent. It’s enough to calm you down, if only for a few moments. If you close your eyes, you can almost trick yourself into thinking he’s there, and for now, that’s good enough.

—

Leon knows he fucked up when he gets back to the country and turns on his phone. Almost fifty messages from you, each one more sad than the last. He wants to slap himself—why couldn’t he just grow a pair and say goodbye? Why did he have to be so noncommittal?

He reads every message on the cab ride back to the apartment, and his heart breaks for you. He didn’t think about how you would drive yourself crazy over him or how worried you must have been. All he thought about was getting the call for the mission in the middle of the night and not wanting to wake you up.

But he didn’t abandon you. He thought about you every day and god—he wishes he could have talked to you. Hearing your voice and seeing your face was enough to make everything better. With the horrors he’s seen lately, all he wants is to be back in that bed with you for one more night.

He’s quiet coming into the apartment, hoping he doesn’t wake you up or scare you. And even though he knows you’re sleeping, he’s still disappointed you’re not waiting at the door for him.

He tosses his backpack into his room and strips off all of his holsters and velcro. He’s quiet walking down the hallway to your room and even quieter opening the door. He relaxes at the sight of you curled up in a ball.

You look so cute and so peaceful and—is that his sweater? The sight brings a smile to his face. He closes the door behind him with a soft click, climbing into the bed next to you.

You wake up when the bed dips down and arms wrap around you. You’re so tired you don’t even care who or what it is.

“If you’re gonna kill me, can you at least let me sleep first?” You mumble.

You fully awake as soon as you hear Leon’s laugh.

“You’re back?” You say, and you hate the way your voice cracks.

You turn around to face him, tired ocean eyes meeting yours. He nods sleepily, “‘m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. It was stupid of me.”

“It’s okay,” and it really is okay. All the resentment you felt melted away at the sight of him.

“C’mere,” he mumbles.

You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around him. You can hear his heart rate slow down at the contact.

“I just—I just need you tonight.” Those are big words coming from the agent, and they leave you completely stunned. He must have seen or done something horrible while he was away for him to be this vulnerable, even with you.

“You can have me tonight.” You try to keep your voice even, “you can have me whenever you need me,”

He kisses the top of your head. “But I always need you.”

“Then I’m always yours.”

Neither of you speak after that, Leon falling into a light sleep. You stay up a while longer, watching the blond boy rest beneath you. He looks so fragile like this, you can’t imagine him fighting off monsters and handling weapons. You kiss his collarbone through his shirt and let yourself fall asleep with him.

#resident evil angst #resident evil fluff #resident evil #re4 leon #resident evil 4 #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #x you #x reader

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murdrdocs · 1 year

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forced proximity with ethan? :3

stuck with you | e.landry

description. turns out, the reputation of your favorite elevator wasn't unjust, as it traps you with your mortal enemy

includes. GN! reader, making out wooo, sorta mean!reader, happygolucky!ethan (kinda), nothing too crazy

a/n: reading this, i hope you can tell that i recently watched lab rats, this was not supposed to be this long but yay !

word count: 1.6k+

The elevator in the Hopkins Building was notorious for being a little sketchy. Horror stories about the lift stalling, potentially trapping its riders within it, floated around campus, eventually making its way to your friend group.

"I swear to God, I was in there one day, just trying to go upstairs, and the fucking death contraption stops." Mindy had told each of you the exaggerated story, her hands waving around and the intonation of her voice working as if she was telling a ghost story at summer camp. Which, is mostly why you didn't believe her.

Yes, you didn't want to even think about being trapped in the older elevator, but you also didn't want to have to deal with the monstrous stairs in the Hopkins building. There were many a times where you'd almost gotten calf cramps from them, so the elevator was the better option for you.

Unfortunately, the elevator also happened to be favored by Ethan Landry. Your (one sided) mortal enemy.

Just like any other Thursday afternoon, you wanted to use the mostly-frowned-upon elevator to go to the fifth floor, and due to its reputation you'd expected to be alone. Like you usually were. Your headphones were in, you were finishing off the last minute of one of your favorite songs, and the elevator door was sliding closed with the intention to take you to your class.

Until a white hand sticks between the metal doors, forcing them back open to reveal the brick wall of the corridor, and one flustered Ethan Landry.

"Oh," he says as he steps into the space. "Didn't know you were in here." The way he says it just oozes attitude, and yeah, you would've said the same. But it's only okay when you say it.

"No offense," he adds, as if it makes it any better.

You shrug, step over for him to press his floor, and turn your music up just a bit more.

As aforementioned, the elevator is old. It's slow. It shakes a bit. But it gets the job done. Usually.

You've spent months defending your favorite elevator. So why would it decide to slow down between the third and fourth floors? Why would the old-timey dial that shows which floor its on slow to a stop between the 'III' and 'IV'?

And worst of all, why would this happen with Ethan Landry, out of all people, standing to your left?

You can only blame it on bad luck.

"No, no, no, no." Ethan's already starting to freak out. You pull your headphones down, pausing your music, to watch Ethan frantically push the '4' button as if that would help. "Jesus, fuck, c'mon."

He starts to push the other buttons; open, close, three, two, ground. You roll your eyes, fighting off your own feelings of panic.

"The phone, Ethan."

He glances over his shoulder at you, his eyebrows furrowed before he nods. "The phone. Yeah. Right."

He reaches for the red phone, putting it to his ear and pushing the button with the firefighter helmet. You wait, playing with your fingers, twiddling your thumbs. But Ethan doesn't start speaking.

He pushes it again, waits. Nothing. He pushes it again, waits. Nothing.

"Ethan..." you start, your voice starting to sound worried.

"It's not..." He pushes it again. Nothing! Ethan slams the phone back onto the receiver, wrings his hair between his hands, and turns to face you. "It won't work."

It won't work. What are the fucking odds.

"So we're trapped in an elevator that doesn't have a working phone?" You know the situation is quite clear, but you're still asking for clarification.

Ethan nods.

"Fuck!"

You and Ethan tried ringing the alarm, but there wasn't another sound on the other side. You didn't even know if the alarm worked.

You knew the elevator was old, but you didn't know it was this old. Taking a look at the certification on the wall, you notice for the first time that the elevator wasn't serviced or checked in ten years. Ten.

"When we make it out of here, I'm suing Blackmore for all it's worth," you tell Ethan.

He snorts, and the sound shockingly isn't annoying to you. "Let me in on the case?"

You turn your head, hair sliding along the metal wall when you face him head on. "As long as our cut is equal."

"Deal."

It's silent for a few seconds. Ethan speaks first.

"Do you have any service?" You pull your phone out from your sweatshirt pocket, seeing that there was nothing but three dots in the top corner of your phone.

"Nope. You?"

Ethan shakes his head without checking his phone. "Nope. Plus my phone's on 10 percent."

"Who doesn't charge their phone before class?"

He shrugs, avoiding your eye as his ears turn a light hue of pink. "I was watching a 5 hour video essay about Victorious and fell asleep without plugging my phone in."

That makes you laugh. Maybe because the proximity, maybe because that's something you could see him doing, or maybe it's just because you like Ethan Landry more than you would admit without the circumstances.

"Was it a good video at least?"

"I wouldn't know. Fell asleep within the first 10 minutes."

It's weird how well conversation flows between you and Ethan when you're not holding onto a randomly formed grudge against him.

Topics switch at the drop of a hat, caused by a word or something brought up in a previous sentence. You find yourself smiling, cracking jokes, genuinely interested in the things that Ethan has to say. And you also find yourself sitting closer and closer to him, both of you sitting with your legs crossed, the proximity causing your knees to bump into each other occasionally.

The touch is nice. You don't mind it.

"You know," Ethan starts. You hum, turning to look at him. "Up until today I thought you hated me."

You hold in a laugh. "Well, that's because I do. I did."

His eyes widen a bit, a halfhearted smile threatening to stretch across the expanse of his pink lips. You find yourself staring at them, having to blink twice to bring yourself back.

"I knew it!" He seems overjoyed, as if he just discovered a 200 year old treasure and not that a member of his friend group has hated him for practically no reason.

"I wasn't really attempting to be discreet about it."

"Still, I thought maybe it was just me. The others said that's just how you were," nice that they would lie for you, "so I thought I was going crazy."

A beat where you're noticing how nice Ethan's lips are.

"Did I ... do something wrong? Something for you to hate me?"

They're so pink, and unexpectedly plump for him to be a White boy.

"Uh ... no."

What would it feel like to kiss them? Does he even know how to kiss?

"Then why did you treat me like that?"

Fuck it. Never know until you try.

You're pushing yourself forward, hands landing on his shoulders to keep yourself steady while you push your lips to his. It's chaste, nothing short of a longer, closed-mouthed peck. And as you're pulling away, you think about how stiff he was and how you should've asked first.

"Sorry," you're immediately apologizing, scooting a few inches away from him. "I should've asked first. I'm sorry."

You watch his reaction, watching how stoic he is, his lips still parted and his eyes unblinking.

You stand to your feet, just to do something other than sit there, and decide to walk over to the phone. You knew that it didn't work, but it's better than sitting there in an awkward silence that existed because of you.

You pull the phone off of its receiver, putting it to your ear, and immediately hear a dial tone. Your eyebrows furrow, your finger reaches out to press the firefighter button.

It rings, and rings. You wait, and wait.

"Hello?"

"Holy shit. Ethan, it's working!"

You hear shuffling, then you see Ethan's body from your peripheral. You talk to the firefighter, telling him about how you and Ethan had been stuck in the elevator in Hopkins Building for the past half hour, and a sigh of relief leaves your body when he tells you that someone will be out to help in the next 15 to 20 minutes.

The receiver is back where it belongs, you have a new sense of hope and happiness, and you turn to face Ethan with a smile on your face.

Before you can even truly realize it, his hands are on your cheeks and his lips are pushed to yours.

The time, he kisses you. It's soft, slow, gentle, a little shaky, but it's a solid kiss.

With his hands holding your cheeks, and his large body crowding your frame, you melt into the kiss. There's not a single thought, even a slither, of resentment towards Ethan. In fact, the only thought you have in your head is Ethan.

How his smell is just right, musky, sweet, a hint of something strong that soothes you. How his hands are oddly soft. How the heat from his body is comforting. How good it feels to kiss him.

However, you can't continuously kiss Ethan without needing a little more oxygen, so you eventually pull back.

Ethan looks a little shocked when you do, his hands reluctantly dropping from your face but you watch his fingers twitch as if he wants to be touching you again.

"Um..." he starts. You look up at him with bright eyes. "Would you wanna go on a date sometime?"

God bless the sketchy elevator in Hopkins Building.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry #ethansworld!#celeste writes scream #scream 6

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luizd3ad · 17 days

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Happy Birthday? | Poly!Moonwaterkiller x Fem!Reader One Shot

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Regulus Black x Barty Crouch Jr x F!Reader WC: 3,163 TW: Polyamorous relationship, swearing, teasing type of relationship, mostly fluff, slight angst at the end, slight talks of Regulus’s childhood, no use of Y/N Author's Note: This ship is inspired by @ellecdc please send her love. She's so talented and is just straight up amazing. Also I'm still new to writing so I hope you like it and I'm sorry if it's not good/doesn't make sense.

Summary: It’s regulus birthday so you, Remus and Barty want to make it special but sometimes things don’t go as planned.

I made this ig mood board inspired by the guy idk ive never made one before

˙‧⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆⋆

“Bartemius Crouch junior! I swear to all that is holy in this world! If you stick your grubby hands in the frosting one more bloody time!”

“Oh come on Lupin! You can’t blame me, it's just so fucking good!"

Barty yelled, waving his hands around trying to defend himself.

You couldn't help but laugh at hearing two of your boyfriends’ bicker while you put the chicken you just got done seasoning into the oven to cook.

Admittedly it was quite entertaining and it helped distract you a bit from stressing over the cooking that still needed to be done and the small decorations that needed to be put up for today.

It was Regulus's birthday, so you and Remus had gotten Sirius to take Regulus out for the day so you and your partners could try and surprise him with a birthday dinner for just the four of you.

You couldn't help but stress seeing as he should be home sooner than later at this point, and you wanted everything to be as perfect as possible since Regulus wasn't completely comfortable with celebrating his birthday still.

He didn't find the idea of a party and things of that nature to be fun, he found it more stressful and anxiety inducing than anything. (due to his childhood)

So the three of you have always tried to do a little something to make it special for him and to show Regulus that you all love him but never anything too much as to avoid overwhelming or making him uncomfortable.

“Barty, my love, how about you go and set up the ‘Happy Birthday’ banner?”

“Anything for you angel.”

Barty says with a look that he reserved for only you.

It was love sick looks. The kind of look that could show the receiver every emotion the other person was feeling. It showed that you were loved by that person with their whole heart. The type of look that had both parties feeling vulnerable in the best way possible.

Even before you all had started dating, when you all were just friends in your earlier years at Hogwarts, he had always looked at you as if you hung the moon and all the stars in the sky.

He'd look at you as if you were the only good thing left in this world, and to him you were one of the only good things left in this world.

You and two other people that he held closer to his heart than he'd probably be willing to admit most days.

Though that didn’t mean Barty didn't love Remus and Regulus.

It also didn't mean it was a secret of how much Barty loved Remus and Regulus. In fact he loved them with all his heart. He expressed how much he loved them somewhat often in his own ways.

Especially since he could be known for his flair of the dramatics at times, he had expressed many times that he loved the three of you more than anything.

Not that anyone could deny, or question it. More like no one would dare to deny or question it.

Barty has expressed many times how he'd burn down cities, commit unspeakable acts and take on any unforgivable in a heartbeat for Regulus and Remus.

The love Barty held for them two was the kind of love that was teasing and could be chaotic in the best way.

The type of love that could only be described as a ‘I can pick on them but you can't pick on them because they're mine’ in the most loving way Barty could possibly manage. And may the gods help any poor soul that ever tried to mess with someone who he deemed as his.

But the love he had for you was a softer kind of love, it was sweet. The kind of love full of things like love sick looks, soft touches, sweet kisses and even sweeter words.

Along with the promises of burning down cities, committing unspeakable acts and taking on unforgivables’, who would expect anything less from Barty? But I digress.

“Yes please, piss off for fucks sake.”

Remus says in an exasperated tone waving Barty away. Barty then gasps dramatically and clenches his shirt as if he was clutching his ‘pearls’.

“You don't mean that, Remmy.” Barty all but whined.

“Plus you couldnt get rid of me even if you wanted to.”

Barty states sending a smirk and wink at Remus, which Remus just responds with by rolling his eyes and hitting Barty with a dish towel playfully to distract Barty from the light blush that's undoubtedly spread across Remus’s face, as to avoid being teased further by him.

“Barty’s right Rem. Even if we wanted to, we're stuck with him, unfortunately.”

You say with a sarcastic little sigh while trying to suppress a smile that threatened to form due to the two men playful arguing.

Barty then gasps dramatically once more and puts his hand over his heart as if you just stabbed him in the heart as Remus snicker at Bartys reaction and to your comment.

“Not you as well, angel. You should know that words hurt. You've wounded me, you've basically killed me.”

Barty then pretends to sob as you and Remus shake your heads with smiles on your faces due to his behavior.

“Gods you’ve been spending way too much damn time around Sirius.”

Remus says while rubbing his hands over his face trying to hide his smile. You chuckle and walk up to Barty and give him a hug giving him your best ‘I'm sorry’ look.

“I’m sorry Barty, I just couldn't help it. Remus has influenced me far too much.. Blame him.”

You say in fake sincerity with a small nod as you hear Remus huff at your comment.

Barty lets out a chuckle and hugs you back with a smile on his face looking down at you as he holds you.

“It's okay angel, I could never stay upset at you. Lupin on the other hand..”

Barty drags out the end of his sentence with a small smirk on his face as Remus scoffs dramatically at his lovers’ statements.

“Really love? It's my fault is it?”

Remus says with his head tilted to the side and eyebrow raised, as if daring you to continue saying that he should be the one to blame for your ‘cruel’ comment to Barty.

“Actually Lupin, I think it is your fault.” Barty stated apparently agreeing with you.

“And what has brought you to that conclusion Junior?”

Remus says as he walks toward the both of you with a small smirk on his face.

“My angel was just that, an angel. That was until you lot got your Gryffindor hands all over her.”

Barty says with a small shrug, feeling as if his point was valid and made sense. You supposed for Barty it did.

“Is that a fact?” Remus asked while getting closer to you and Barty.

“Yeah, Lupin it is actually.” Barty says, giving Remus a somewhat challenging look.

“You don't seem to complain when I have my Gryffindor hands all over you, Junior.”

Remus then winks at a now blushing and flustered Barty. You then cover your mouth trying to hide your own blush while also trying to suppress a giggle.

Barty tries to say some kind of come back and it just results in him stuttering.

“W-well I- Goddamnit! That’s not fair Lupin!”

“All's fair in love and war Junior.”

Remus says sending another wink at Barty and smirking at you while Barty stares at him with wide eyes in complete silence.

He had managed to make Barty Crouch Jr speechless.

That was actually one of the many things that Remus was good at, especially at the beginning when everything was still new and more unexpected.

When the four of you were in that space where you weren't officially dating but it was clear to you and everyone who'd been around your little group that you four had very strong feelings for each other.

It had taken Remus no time at all to get comfortable with having at least one of you flustered almost all the time, usually to the point of stuttering or speechlessness.

He loved seeing you three like that.

Especially Barty.

Barty wasn't someone you could easily make blush let alone actually fluster, especially with just words so whenever Remus would manage to make Barty speechless he felt like he won a reward.

Barty would never admit it but it was clear as day that Remus was good at making him a flustered stuttering mess.

And Barty hated it.

“Now love. I believe someone owes someone an apology for trying to place blame.”

Remus says, walking up to you now at arms length and giving you a pointed look now waiting for an apology.

While Barty mutters a ‘fucking hell’ under his breath and runs his hand through his hair as he walks towards the kitchen counter still mumbling quietly to himself.

“I'm sorry moony. Truly. Do you forgive me?” You say somewhat sincerely knowing Remus doesn't really care all that much.

“I could never stay mad at you, love.”

Remus says with a small smile he then cups your cheek and gives you a kiss on your forehead, you lean into Remus's kiss taking in the moment and enjoying the affection from your boyfriend.

When suddenly you and Remus feel a cold, grainy substance rain down on you, which you both quickly realize is flour once the shock wore off.

You then hear a familiar giggle, and turn to see none other than a proud looking Barty standing now several feet away, covered in white powder himself. He just stands there proud of himself as if he didn't just cover you both in flour.

As you stare at him wide eyed and mouth a gasp, he just gives you a cheeky little smile.

“You did not just do that Junior.”

“Oh but I think I did, Remmy. That's what you get for teasing and being mean to me.”

Barty then sends a little wink to you and a somewhat apologetic smile.

“Sorry angel. Collateral damage, you understand.”

Barty says with a small shrug and a tone that makes it seem like it's the most reasonable thing that he has ever done.

You simply nod with the most convincing smile you could possibly muster in that moment.

“Of course my love. I understand.”

You say walking near Barty and grabbing a bowl that's filled with whipped cream that you had made earlier. You then walk closer to Barty and with a smile on your face.

“And you'll understand when I do this.”

You say while grabbing a handful of whipped cream and throwing it at Barty just for him to duck in time ending with the cream hitting Remus in the face. You gasp and cover your mouth trying not to laugh as Barty busts out laughing.

“Oh shit Rem! I'm so sorry.”

You say trying hard and failing to suppress your laughter, while Remus wipes his eyes off with his hands.

“It's okay love. All’s forgiven. Just come and give me a kiss.”

“Ummm I would love to, honestly I would… After you clean your face, that is…”

You back away from a now smiling remus while he opens his arms for you and starts walking closer to you.

“No, now would be fine for me.”

Remus proceeds to walk closer to you as you start to back away towards Barty who's starting to calm down from his laughter.

“Why not kiss Barty?! This is all because of him anyway!”

Barty then gasps.

“Angel! I can't believe you'd throw me under the bus like that… Is it bad that I liked it?”

Barty asks the last part more to himself than to anyone else. He was so caught up in his thoughts for a second that he didn't notice you now using him as a human shield, that was until he felt a clump of whipping cream on his head and looked to see a smirking Remus.

“Oh. This means war.”

All of a sudden it was every person for themselves. The kitchen was now a war zone. Flour, whipped cream, sugar, powdered sugar, fruits and berries were being thrown all over the place. It was pure chaos.

The Three you were making a mess out of the kitchen and even bigger messes of yourselves.

Next thing you, you’ve been thrown over Remus’s shoulder while Barty is chasing Remus around the kitchen.

There’s so much going on, so much laughing and screaming that no one heard the door open. Which meant no one heard Regulus make his way to the kitchen, and so no one noticed him standing in the doorway till you heard him speak.

“I leave you alone for a few hours and suddenly the kitchen explodes?”

Regulus in all his stoic glory just stood there not even looking a little surprised.

All three of you stopped running around, suddenly feeling like kids who got caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Then all three of you look at eachother then at Regulus.

“Happy Birthday?” You, Remus and Barty said accidentally making it sound more like a question than in an enthusiastic way.

Regulus just points at the oven says.

“The ovens smoking.”

“Oh shit! The chicken!”

You yell as Remus puts you down and he rushes to the oven to take out the now burnt chicken as smoke fills the kitchen.

“Sooo… Chinese?” Said a very uncertain Barty

After opening some windows, having the Chinese food delivered, a few showers and quite a few cleaning spells the four of you ended up on the couch with a movie on not many words being exchanged.

After the movie was finished and the food had all been mostly finished Remus had brought out the cake that he managed to finish decorating while waiting for the food to arrive.

The three of you had sung (or in Bartys case basically screamed) Happy birthday to Regulus while he sat there with a ghost of a smile on his face. After another hour or so the four of you found yourselves in your shared bed.

You couldn't help but feel guilty since Regulus hadn't really expressed any emotion which wasn’t necessarily not normal about his birthday. You felt like maybe you had upset him in some way, maybe you over stepped or maybe he was irritated due to the mess you Remus and Barty made.

You were spiraling.

Till you heard a whisper.

“Thank you..”

It was quiet for a few seconds, you supposed no one really knew what to say.

“For what Black? I feel like we kinda ruined your birthday.” Said a almost half asleep Barty

“It wasn't ruined Junior! It just didn't go.. as planned..'' defend Remus who laid on the other side of you.

You and Regulus laid in the middle of Barty and Remus.

“Would the two of you stop bickering for just a moment please?” You say with a small shake of your head and a small chuckle.

The next second there's a small choir of ‘Sorry angel’ and ‘Sorry love’.

“What are you thanking us for, Reggie?”

You say pushing some of his black curly hair behind his ear looking at him softly, though he probably couldn't tell since it was dark in the room.

The only light coming through the window from the half moon.

“For today.. I know it didn't go how any of you planned or would have wanted it to go, but still. It was nice. I spent most of the day with my brother though he can be insufferable, loud and dramatic most of the time, it was still nice. And then to come home to the three people who mean everything to me laughing and having fun... That was the best part. I know I'm not the easiest when it comes to celebrating my birthday but, your three and Sirius have been the only people who have ever actually cared for my birthday. You've never treated it like how my parents did. Never used it as an excuse to have a big party full of people I didn't know or care about just so it seemed like we were better then them or make it seem like we were the perfect family, even though it was evident that we weren't. You've always made it about me and always respected what I'm comfortable with and well I appreciate that. So.. Thank you.. I love you.. All three of you..”

“We love you too Reg.” You say quietly, giving Regulus a soft kiss.

“Awwww did Regulus Black just say he loves me.” Barty practically squealed.

Barty then pulls Regulus into him so Regulus’s back is to Barty's front and then proceeds to messily kiss Regulus all over the side of his face while Regulus tries and fails to get away from him.

Remus then starts to laugh harder than you had seen in a while, almost falling off the bed as he hears the bickering between the two (mostly on Regulus' part) and sees the shadows of a struggling Regulus and a very determined Barty.

You can't help but start to laugh almost as hard as Remus as you try and get the words out to have Barty let go of poor Regulus.

The night continues for only a few more moments it's filled with more laughing and eventually sleepy good night kisses and I love yous.

To say the four of you had an interesting relationship would be an understatement. It could be messy and chaotic, it could be a fucking headache sometimes.

But there was love. There was always love.

There were mornings where the four of you would wake up and just lay in bed happier than any of you thought you could ever be.

There were tender kisses and loving touches.

Dreams and promisses of the future.

There were smiles and laughing fits that would fuel you for the days when you felt like you couldn't even get out of bed.

Admittedly, it was a lot most of the time.

There were screaming matches and arguing at its worst times but at its best times it was you and three people that you couldn't see your life without. Three people that made life easier most of the time. People who could make you laugh till you cried and that would hold you while you cried and fall apart.

This was a life that none of you ever thought you'd have the opportunity to have, and ever so often one of you would feel like you didn't deserve the life you had.

This was the kind of life that probably wouldn’t exist for you guys in different universes. But here, in this universe? This is the life you have and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

⋆‧⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

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tremendum · 8 months

Text

Mr. Miller's Show

[not my gif] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, some use of she/her, use of the words girl/woman) rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) word count: 7.3k (back to regularly scheduled programming) requested: yes thank you all for all the patience srsly <3 summary: “'like how sweet you've been t'me, sugar," he mutters gently, head tilting, "why y'gonna go and fuck all that up now?'" warnings: gendered words (girl, woman, etc) allusions to PTSD, porn with feelings, guys theyre like getting healthier, SMUT (PiV unprotected), oral (M receiving), deepthroating, rough sex, face-fucking, shower smut, counter smut, reader is a tease, masturbation (f), marijuana use as always lol, brief voyeurism, canon-typical violence, age gap (undefined but mentioned), ass play (spitting, fingering, only a bit sorryyyy), mirror sex again bc im a whore, reader has hair long enough to grab, hair pulling, lots of choking, spit kink, light slapping (f receiving, consensual), dirty talk, praise kink but also degradation, use of words like slut, brat tamer!joel, overstimulation, MEAN!JOEL YALL, but he has feelings so he’s also kinda soft!dom in this again, once again sooo unedited that it hurts. notes: finally finally after over a month im back!! hope you enjoy this chapter, ive been having rough writers block with this story so any suggestions and requests are very welcomed!!! thanks for all the love and as always, comments & reblogs w tags are motivation and help out so much!!! love u all <3 also for the taglist, it's too big now and i may consider stopping my taglist, just letting everyone know!!! ill lyk if i do ofc but im reblogging with the list this time.

[this is part six of the Mr Miller series. read previous part sympathy for the devil. main masterlist here. ]

★

"you're wearing earrings."

Joel's voice cuts through the serene chill in the air, shocking you enough to have your head turning away from where you stare ahead - you crane your neck too much, but you can just see the dusted gray and dark of his curls behind you as your brows raise.

it takes you a second to understand the sentence he's just uttered to you out of nowhere- but you blink to life, clearing your throat as the dead trees pass you by.

"oh. yeah, it's... they're new. didn't really wear stuff like that until..." you shrug, trailing off as you stare forward yet again. your heart thumps as his chest rumbles against your back - jesus, he's so close to you. it's been weeks since he's been this close, even if this is just work.

your body wants what it wants, you suppose.

your lips purse, lost in the press of his thick body behind you.

"-till?"

your lip twitches in a smile for a split moment; he's waiting for you to finish your sentence. as if he cares.

Joel...

he's been so normal recently. or as normal as you could ever imagine Joel Miller to be; full sentence-conversations full of questions, full sentences, and even an occasional joke or dry line littered in with his glares and eye-rolls. he's even taught you and ellie to woodwork, nodded in hello when you picked up Ellie on your way into town - hell, he'd actually gotten a drink with you after patrol a few days ago and held eye contact for a whole thirty minutes.

a fucking miracle.

and even, on rare occasions, you are rewarded with that mind-splitting, earth-shattering smile - a very rare but rewarding sight. the kind that shocks a room, silences you and Ellie both, lights the sun and makes the birds sing. makes your stomach flutter.

so perhaps things have changed.

it makes you almost laugh to yourself, recalling that day so many moons ago when you had walked into the Bison and first stared into those stony eyes; how big his calloused hands were, the way his lip lifted in distaste at your crass words.

the sway of the horse makes your hips move gently; your ass is starting to feel sore at the constant motion and as you rock forward with the decline of the hill, you feel Joel's body slide slightly as though he tries against everything to press fully against you. even though you wish he would.

heat paints your face as you feel his breath on your neck, waiting patiently for you to finish your sentence.

your sharp breath exhales as you realize you've hesitated at his questioning, a bit too long - you smile sheepishly, shrugging. "-sorry, didn't..." you clear your throat, "couldn't remember the last time I wore earrings. not that it matters, but I just..." you thumb the makeshift earring back, grinning to the mane of the horse as he trudges you and Joel both along.

"-it feels nice. makes me feel like myself." you finish, shrugging awkwardly.

for all of the steps Joel has taken in the last few weeks to change, there are some things you still have a hard time with.

talking about yourselves and opening up is a very large, unmovable hurdle that you and him are still clearly trying to pull yourselves over. it's quiet for a second as your words seep into the dead surroundings, less than an hour from town.

"look nice." he grunts quietly, his arms pressing slightly from where he straddles the saddle behind your frame.

your eyes widen at the seemingly random compliment, face flooding with flattery and embarrassment. your grin betrays you, but you don't dare stutter out a broken thank you for fear that you will sound like a croaking frog; instead, you purse your lips over the giddy grin that spreads over your cheeks and hope that as he stares at the profile of your face, he can see the flattery written across your features.

"Ellie has a matching pair." you say instead, sparing a quick glance back at Joel. his brows raise, jaw ticking as he takes in the information - your voices both echo at the same time as you speak over each other suddenly:

"she doesn't have her ears pierced." "in case she ever gets them pierced."

you let out a short huff of laughter, nodding sheepishly at having accidentally interrupted each other; Joel shakes his head with a ghost of a smile.

"got it." he nods, "s'real nice of you." he nods, "making a pair for her, too."

his chest is right on you - broad, warm through all the layers, and smelling of pine, whiskey, sage. amber. it's intoxicating as his drawl rumbles in the back of your ear - you silently thank Tommy or whoever the hell it was who ordered half the horses to rest after a bout of sickness spread through the stable; sharing a horse has never once before today seemed like a good idea.

but the good idea sours quickly when you kick speed slightly, the horse leaping over a small creek as your hips shift back into Joel's and your ass presses into him.

your mouth dries as you shakily exhale; he's so close to you - smells so good. your hands grip the reigns tighter and you nearly jump when a large, calloused hand falls onto your hips to steady you after the change in pace.

your mind travels back to that morning after you'd stayed with Joel in his own bed - how gentle his hands had been as he'd guided you towards your own house under the early morning sunrise; your eyes bleary with sleep but his smile still cracking bashfully when you'd kissed his cheek, muttering about how maybe Ellie'd missed your boots by the front door when she'd come home.

she and Joel certainly haven't said anything you if she did notice, anyways.

you clear your throat, ignoring the searing desire that spirals from where his hand touches your clothed hip; you shrug, "she said she liked mine, so I figured we could match."

he hums lowly at your word, his nose brushing slightly over the crown of your head. shivers roll over your shoulders as you swallow, retreating into the silence that you've lived in for the last few weeks since the two of you were put back on patrol.

but you stiffen when a hand runs down your side, over the jagged stitching of your jacket, and you suck in a sharp inhale. his other hand slides forward, hooking gently around your hip, fingers splaying over the very top of your thigh and your throat dries up; a faint desire awakened and soon screaming at you. you squirm under his touch.

Joel's hips adjust behind you gently in the next second, your eyes fluttering shut as you imagine him pulling you into him, his hard cock sliding between the round globes of your ass and through your dripping folds, his hands greedy and hungry; his words sharp, teasing. his touch, sweet. intoxicating-

your eyes open again and your heart skips a beat, his knees hitting the outside of your thighs.

christ. your whole body tingles as you shift slightly, rotating your hips as the buck of the horse's cant tilts you further away from the heat of his broad chest. no, you can't stand his teasing - intentional or not, Joel is making you nearly melt in desire.

jesus.

you're barely pulling the horse to the side of the path when, with barely a crane of his neck, Joel mutters, "the hell are y'doin?"

you suddenly pull the reins and mutter woah, slipping yourself off of the horse and onto the hard ground with a burning face, your lungs screaming for air as Joel protests.

"what-" he grunts as he pulls himself down from the stirrups, face etched with irritation and concern at your sudden evacuation, "is there an issue?"

you can hear the irritation in his voice and you sigh, shaking your head - your heart's thundering, face hot and surely laced with poorly-hid embarrassment. god, what the fuck is wrong with you? there's barely forty minutes back to Jackson, why couldn't you just suck it up for a few more torturous minutes until you could return home to your trusty drawer and hot shower?

"no." you snap, "no problem, Joel." your heart is thundering with surprise at his concern, eyes glaring daggers at him before shooting down towards the heat that nearly blisters on your forearm; his hand, warm and gentle, asking silently if you're okay. your eyes soften before you can school your expression - he reads you, as always, like his favorite novel.

his hand falls away gently, grazing your finger tips like the gentlest breeze on your face and it still surprises you.

"alright," he says softly, eyes searching your flustered appearance. "can we get back on the horse, then?" he asks - his voice is surprisingly patient, though his eyes are wary. irritated, but concerned.

you clear your throat, unable to contain yourself much longer. "we could- take a break."

his brows raise, tilting his head, "a break? we're nearly back. s'almost nightfall."

you shift your weight, avoiding the way his corded arms cross over each other, his frame towering over yours as you dully throb in arousal.

"you're-" you squeak, shaking your head, "you're fucking crowding me, and I need- fuck-" you groan, "just- just fuck off for a second, Joel." you snap, bursting in frustration, unsure how to just admit you are being driven fucking crazy with lust by his presence.

his head tilts, "fuck off?" his eyes are darker every second you stand, facing each other- "the hell's gotten into you?" he sounds offended, and your heart flips as you feel bad - you're trying, you're trying so hard to be normal around him, as he is with you - so one touch, one innocent adjustment of his hips and now you're freaking out on him again?

you need to get a grip, or at least be honest.

your face burns as his stern gaze rolls over each curve of your body; "Joel, you're driving me fucking crazy." you snap, glaring at him.

he looks shocked, hands flying out, "I barely said anythin' this whole goddamn day, how the hell am I still fucking this up?" he snaps back, irritated - his eyes incredulous as he stares down at you.

flames lick up your sides as you grind your teeth - his hair looks much more wavy with his curls today, and the green of his jacket it making the golden on his skin nearly glow; you nearly growl as you jump towards him. he's too much. too fucking much.

your hands lock on his shoulders, tugging yourself up towards his face as your lips fall against his.

the kiss is a shock to you both.

you're not sure what really compelled you to do it - the stubble over his sharp jaw, his hair, the way his thighs pressed against the outsides of yours just minutes ago, the way he pressed on about the earrings - whatever, it doesn't matter, because he's kissing you back and you're melting like butter over a campfire.

his lips press hard back against yours through his shocked inhale, surging against you in a dizzying haze of Joel.

but the kiss is seared away from your lips when Joel suddenly shoots his thick hand out, rising to grip hard at your throat, shoving you backwards.

it's more shocking than the sudden kiss - the speed in which he pulls back and pushes you hard backwards by his warm grip, causing flutters of arousal to course through your stomach.

you stumble in shock but he keeps his hold on you, passionate as he movers the two of you back. you're torn away from his warmth as he presses you with one hand on the small of your back and the other on the beating pulse of your throat - right against a tree, nudging you as he tilts his head down to your height once more.

he's back on you in no less than a split second; his heat swirling around the cold air, teeth nipping at your lip when you take a moment longer than he'd like to open your lips to his tongue. he groans against you, a warm and deep thing that you feel in your own chest as your hand slides up to his hair, tugging at the base of his neck.

the fingers around your throat flex and tighten in reaction to your own grip and the moan that rips from your throat sends his hips in a slow thrust against yours.

you've been desperate for his touch for fucking days - he's been walking on eggshells even after you'd spent the night with him a few weeks ago. he'd barely touched you, taking his time trying to make up for all the lost time you'd spent trying to rip each other's heads off instead of your clothes.

and sure, you don't know who you are with him still - nothing defined, and a lot of things still unspoken - but for the first time since this whole mess started, that doesn't bother you. there's not much anger, nor jealousy - just... Joel. and you.

it's not bad.

his lips leave yours as he breathes against your lips, "like how sweet you've been t'me, sugar," he mutters gently, head tilting, "why y'gonna go and fuck all that up now?"

his hand slips from your back lower, tugging you against his semi-hard cock as his fingers squeeze your ass. his hand lies just below your jugular, thumb soothing over your cold skin as his dark eyes glint with desire. you feel a rush of arousal pool between your legs as you raise your brows.

"-you need to stop fucking touching me like that when we're riding, Miller." you growl against his lips, staring back at him. you lean slightly to catch his lips with yours once again but he pulls back with a strong hand against your neck to stop you - teasing.

he tuts, "you need to learn how to use your words, sweetheart." he growls against you, teeth catching on your bottom lip.

you whimper at the sharp sting, chasing him as if you could steal a kiss. he tilts his head just out of reach, his hand pressing against you until your breath comes out slightly ragged; your pussy flutters as he squeezes, knee sliding against your clothed core.

"if you want it, ask for it, baby." he all but demands, hands rough against you, "can't just throw a fit every time you're aching for my cock, or else you'll be whinin' all goddamn day. how am I supposed to know-"

but there's a snap of a twig somewhere behind you and you both spring apart, straight as boards, hackles raised.

it's almost like deja-vu as you're both thrown from your stupor - ripping away, your voices cease as your hand flies to your hunting knife - in your peripheral, you see that Joel's slung around his rifle so quick you're almost impressed as you both stare to your left.

christ - just the fucking horse, tied to the tree. stepped on a twig.

you let out a shaky breath, hand falling onto Joel's chest as you almost wheeze out a relieved laugh. but your hand feels it, suddenly - you notice how stiff Joel is, even after you've both realized there's no threats.

his heart, thundering in his chest wildly. like a caged animal surrounded by a pack of wild, ravenous wolves; Joel's heart tries to scramble right out of his chest and onto the dead ground.

that feeling - the one that creeps around at night when you wake up with memories of that cabin, of those raiders - of your past, visions of Joel, surrounded by red. that feeling that creeps up, squeezing at your throat and banging on your chest.

he's feeling it, too.

it's not from arousal, though you can see enough of that in his eyes, in the way his lips part and ragged breaths puff into the air - no, not arousal.

fear.

your heart hammers similarly, you suddenly notice. your hand shakes as it hovers near your knife; his hands grip the rifle so tight the blood may burst forth from the roughened skin any second.

"hey," you whisper, suddenly worried to speak above any quiet noise. his eyes are sharp and his jaw clenched as he looks back at you, wild and alarmed.

as if he were ready to fight for his life and yours.

"let's go home," you whisper, thumb running over the shoulder of his jacket, muscles strained and still below the layers.

he snaps out of it, eyes falling to rake over you as if assuring that you're still in front of him in one piece. his hand finds yours on his chest, sliding it off - not unkindly; his hand squeezes yours before boosting you up onto the double saddle silently.

Joel insists on walking you back to your house; he's brooding, as normal, as you both trudge back from turning in your patrol log and tracking the mud from the stable through the quiet streets.

you don't speak about what happened in the woods - the kiss, nor the twig snapping, but you ache and as you walk, every brush of the backs of your hands send shooting sparks up your arm.

"damn it," he grunts under his breath as you lead him up your driveway. you lift a brow at him, silent prompt to explain his expletive.

he shakes his head, "s'nothin'. forgot Ellie said the water heater ain't workin', said she was stayin' with her friend Dina till I fix it. cold shower for me tonight."

you grimace; the air nips at your cheeks, you can't imagine a cold shower in this weather. you shrug, "use mine." you suggest, tilting your head. "no point in turning into an icicle, Miller, you're cold enough as is." you tease, sending him a small wink.

something in you wonders if the shower really is broken, or if he just can't bring himself to ask; not that you can blame him. you can't bring yourself to ask, either.

your heart flutters when Joel rolls his eyes but still trudges after you, through the entrance of your home. his eyes look just as tired as you feel but there's a spark to them, one that coaxes more warmth between your thighs.

you see his eyes catch on the partially-smoked joint put out on the ashtray on your kitchen table as you slide past it; you have a mind to grab it before you make your way up the stairs, pretending not to feel too hot when you feel Joel's eyes graze over the sway of your hips.

he showers first, you insist.

while he does so, you strip out of your clothes and into a more comfortable sleeping shirt and shorts. you sit, smoking lazily on the joint, savoring the sharp herbal taste as it flows into your blood and trying to ignore the throbbing desire when the sound of the shower shuts off.

Joel's respectful when he leaves your bathroom, pants on and shirt tugged over his chest, speckled with dots of moisture. his hair is much darker and more curled just after a shower; you're transfixed as you stand in front of him, joint smoldering between your lips, an exhale of smoke swirling lazily from your nostrils.

"may I?" he asks suddenly, causing you to nod, pulling the joint out from your lips and noting how his own dark eyes follow it like a horse to a carrot; you smirk, tutting. "and to think, all this time you've been judging me for it?" you shake your head. "shame on you."

his jaw ticks and you just smirk, shaking your head as you hold the joint up to his lips boldly. "you're a bad influence on me, aren't you, Mr. Miller?" you ask, voice sultry as you peer up at him through your lashes. his eyes flick to yours as he inhales, your fingers ghosting over his plush lips. the ones you kissed not an hour earlier.

the air is thick in your room, steam from the hot water creeping through as Joel inhales the weed, ember lighting up your eyes in his. you leave the joint between his parted lips, opting to strip down as you walk towards the shower, hoping Joel had the mind to watch as you go.

your heart thuds in arousal and excitement when you hear his sharp exhale, still refusing to turn around as you leave the door slightly open once again. you and your innocent habit of leaving the bathroom door open when you shower.

you're relieved there's some fog over the glass door of the shower, but you take your time cleansing your hair, running soap over your face and then slowly, slowly lathering up your skin.

you can feel him watch the entire time.

his eyes are like a hawk's; you can see his shadow through the light of the bathroom, the ember of your joint glowing occasionally as your hands run over the wet planes of your skin.

your shaky fingers cascade down, over the skin of your stomach, lower until they just barely graze where you ache. it's like he's been waiting for you to finally start to touch yourself; just as your fingers find your slit, the amber of the joint is tamped, ashed on the windowsill.

you hum lowly as your fingers swirl through your velvet folds, so wet you're dripping onto your upper thighs as your head thumps against the wall.

"Joel," you let yourself whimper, eyes fluttering shut before opening again languidly.

Joel's footsteps are gentle as he slowly strides up to you; he lasted, admittedly, longer than you through this torturous game. through the glass, you see his tall frame and your legs quiver with desire - your aching cunt throbs as you move your hand over yourself, rinsing off the rest of the suds from your clean body as your fingers tease your bundle of nerves. your hips jolt; a choked moan from you as you slide the glass open slightly, cocking your head - "it's a shame you already showered," you mutter, fingers not ceasing as Joel's eyes rake over your naked for ravenously.

he leans on the doorframe to the bathroom, eyes stern as he takes in your silhouette through the fogged glass, slowly rolling over the curves of your body to meet your eyes with flames alit in his own.

"-it'd be nice to have some help." you shrug, gesturing to the bar of soap in your spare hand, eyes swimming with desire as your other hand continues the slow, torturous movements on your aching clit.

your eyes catch on his crotch; through the jeans, his cock is hard and straining already as if being stirred by just the sight of you, naked and whimpering for him in your shower.

"I know you've always liked a show, though, haven't you?" you tease, lifting a brow as you recall the night Joel'd first seen you shower.

his jaw ticks at your words but it's like something in his snaps; he wastes little time ripping his shirt off, his patience clearly gone as you bite your lip, stepping back for him as his jeans finally slide off.

his glowing, naked form crowds into your own as he slides into the shower with you. his eyes are sharp as his hand takes the soap from you; yet instead of running it over your skin like you'd hoped he would, he's tossing it to the side until it hits the wall of the shower and splinters into two.

you gasp slightly as his hand grips your neck, tugging you close. his cock is hard, tip glistening with beads of precum already as he presses to your lower stomach, his body glued to yours; his nose slides along the plane of your collarbone gently, the shower water pelting rolling off your meshed bodies like some sort of sick baptism.

"you smell clean, darlin'," he mutters against your kin, one hand sliding up to your scalp, threading through your hair. his tongue peeks out to lick a stripe up your throat. "taste clean, too-"

his hand tightens suddenly, tugging your hair until your head snaps up to him - his eyes are dark, face full of desire. "so why're you pretending you need my help?"

the condescension in his voice is intoxicating - your legs weaken, hands sliding up onto his hot skin under the water that cascades over him.

your throat dries as you swallow, eyes wide as a rush of arousal threatens to drip down onto your bare thighs.

his head tilts, "s'because you want to put on a show, 's that it?" he asks, voice condescendingly sweet as he once again tightens his grip. you whimper at the sweet feeling, nodding slightly.

he smiles against your neck before pulling away, "fine. you can give me a show. get on your knees." he hums, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. your head feels dizzy at the words he says and the sweetness of his kiss; the most delicious juxtaposition.

"a show." he chuckles to himself, shaking his head darkly. "gonna make you a goddamn star."

christ. your cunt squeezes around nothing, aching for him as his hands slide down to your shoulders. you nearly moan as he smirks, water cascading down his broad chest as he pushes you down; you sink to your knees, your wide eyes on his own as you move until you're close to his aching cock.

he stands, towering above you as the shower head sprays directly onto his back; water runs off the broad expanse of his chest and you follow the droplets as they smooth over his stomach, down over the sprinkling of hair that trails to the base of his dick. you swallow, heart thundering impatiently as you sit on your haunches, waiting anxiously for him to tell you what to do.

his brows raise, though, flush high on his cheeks from heat - or arousal - as he hums, "well?"

you blink at him in surprise as he shakes his head down at you, his own hand falling to pump his long cock in languid strokes, the skin so close to you that you can almost feel the heat. if you were to lean out, just a bit, to taste-

"christ, darlin' do I gotta tell you how to do everything?" he grunts, other hand cupping the back of your head, carding through your wet strands of hair as he tuts, "you were practically beggin' f'me earlier, now you're suddenly shy?"

your face blooms in heat, "no, sir, I just-" at your words, his eyes fall back and a groan echoes through your bathroom, "-just suck my cock, darlin' c'mon."

his impatience, desperation sends shivers down your spine and your mouth opens eagerly, tongue flattening as he slaps your tongue gently once, twice-

you're always surprised by the size of Joel - each time, it catches you off guard; the head of his cock breaches your lips and his pre-cum smears over your tongue; the taste of him has you keening forward, eager to feel him in you, filling you up.

"there you go, 's much better." he grunts, muttering as one hand slides around to hold your jaw. your eyes flutter up through your lashes and the falling shower water to stare at him, how big he is towering above you. his cock pushes into your warm mouth and you try your best to breathe through your nose, tongue sliding up the vein which reaches up towards his tip. his groan spurs you on and you gently start to bob your head, spit gathering at the sides of your mouth slowly as your knees press against the wet porcelain.

"you feel better like this, baby?" he mutters, your stomach tingling at his words. you can't nod - can't even make a noise as his hips slowly buck into you; you gag slightly and moan around his cock as it pushes to the back of your throat.

"fuck-" he grunts, one hand leaning forward to place against the wet shower tiles; he's crowding you, now, pressing you into the back of the shower as his body takes the brunt of the water and takes and takes from you.

anything Joel wants, he can fucking have it.

"that's it, sweetheart-" he grunts, "fuckin'- take me."

his hands grip yours, pulling them onto his thighs, muttering gently that if it's too much, you can slap his thigh; you nod, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes as you keen towards him again, hungry to feel him in your throat again.

your nails dig crescents into the meat of his thighs as he pushes your head right against the wall, fucking into your throat as his head tilts back. "tha's- right, look at you." he grunts, his lips parted as groans fall from his lip. the steam rises like tendrils from hell as you take Joel's length in your mouth, barely able to breathe in the most delicious way as he uses you. your spit trails over your chin and onto your bare chest as you stare up at him. one hand soothes over your forehead, wiping wet strands of hair plastered to your forehead, "you're a fuckin' star, baby."

you heat at his words, stomach swirling as you shift uncomfortably, cunt puffy and aching for relief.

your fingers grip onto him as he takes you in the shower, fucking your throat until you're dripping and aching and a writhing mess, his moans echoing around the empty home.

"water's cold." he grunts, pulling his cock from your lips; you, weakly, chase the heat of him as he leaves your mouth, gasping for air and coughing slightly.

he shuts off the water, suddenly, and you swallow as he turns back to you, eyes significantly softer than they'd just been; "somethin' wrong?" he teases, a dark smirk on his face as his eyes flicker to where your thighs press together to soothe the ache.

you grit your teeth, shaking your head, "jus' want you to touch me, sir." you mutter, face burning at the way Joel never ceases to reduce you to a whimpering mess.

he smiles one of those brilliant, radiant smiles.

"that's all you had to say, darlin'." he shrugs, "told you, if you just learn to ask for it nicely, I'll give it to you."

you shiver as you nod, taking his hand as he pulls you up off your sore knees, wrapping a towel around your form gently. he's so- commanding, yet still somehow keeping his kindness that often hides deep beneath his layers.

you can't tear your eyes away, though - even as Joel starts to walk towards your open bedroom - your hand stops him on his naked shoulder. "will you please fuck me?" you ask, voice stronger than you'd expected it to be.

his eyes flicker with something as he tilts his head, "right here?" he lifts a brow as his hand snaked over your neck to pull you flush against him once again. "y'gonna beg me to fuck you against the sink because you're too desperate for my cock to walk to the bed?" he whispers it into the shell of your ear; a shiver as you whine, eyes blinking up at him, "been waiting all day, Joel, stop fucking teasing me."

you notice your mistake too late; his jaw tenses as he bites down at the junction of your neck - you let out a sharp, whining moan as his teeth mark a love bite bright and center on your skin. "fuck- fuck, s-sorry, sir." you groan, eyes clenching shut in pleasure as his hands push you into the counter.

"bet you're fuckin' sorry." he mutters lowly as he pulls away from you, flipping you quick to bend you over the vanity of the sink. you gasp as the cool wet porcelain hits your breasts, your nipples hard and sensitive as a sharp smack lands on your ass.

"christ," he groans as you bend over, puffy lips soaked and glistening for him, "look at this pretty pussy."

you move your hips slightly and his hands grip onto your waist - "quit that." he snaps, hands resuming their exploring. he grazes over the backs of your thighs, up the expanse of your spine.

over your ass, groping and slapping, relishing in your small moans and sharp gasps. "don't move." he orders.

you sigh, head falling onto the sink as you nearly whimper - you're aching, throbbing as Joel teases you - "Joel," you whimper quietly, voice whiny and small.

"what's wrong, y'tired of being teased?" he asks, voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. your cheeks are hot as you groan, "please, need to feel you inside of me-"

he hums, smacking the flesh of your ass, "'f I don't warm you up you'll be sore, baby-" he tuts, "y'know I gotta get you ready."

"I don't care, I can take it- I like it, just-" you stutter, face heated as you nearly scream in frustration, unable to voice how badly you just want him inside of you.

he likes that - a thumb sliding over your cunt to spread your lips, exposing your pussy and ass to him as he hums. "too fuckin' eager, have to have my cock right now, 's that right?" he shakes his head with a dark smirk, hand teasing over your swollen lips as he nods, "yeah, s'alright, I'll give it to you whenever you ask."

"thank you," you wheeze, letting out a shaky sigh when Joel leans down, spitting directly onto your asshole, thumb sliding over the tight ring as he hums, "so desperate for me, couldn't even wait 'till we get back to town, could you? had to try an' fuck me right there in the woods." he doesn't wait for you to respond as he spits down again, this time the slick spit sliding down onto your seeping cunt. his hand leaves, replacing with the thick, teasing head of his cock.

you gasp, rising on your toes as the blunt tip of his dick spreads your cunt, teasing your clit before notching at your entrance. "gonna fill up every hole tonight, baby, y'gonna let me?"

you let out a whine, "fuck, yes, please." you nod, cunt fluttering around the tip of his cock.

the stretch is painful; you expected it, craved it - you let out an animalistic moan when he slides in a few inches. "oh-" you whimper, legs tensing as Joel kneads the flesh of your ass, pressing his bare chest to your spine as he mouths along the base of your neck, "relax, baby, so fuckin' tight-" he groans as he slides in slowly, "let me in, sweetheart, c'mon-"

a rush of arousal and he's fully seated within you, the sting of his cock in you subsiding as a growing desire mounts until you can't take it. "move- m-move, now, please." you rush, hips pushing back against Joel's impatiently.

"shit," Joel hisses as he pulls out of you slightly - a long, thick drag against your velvety cunt and you groan at the sweet bliss of being filled up. you moan as he thrusts forward, tip hitting the perfect spot that already, as his pace builds, has a simmering coil deep within you.

"thought- thought about it all day," you admit, hands finding purchase on the counter as he starts to fuck into you, your tits sliding as they press against the sink. "on the horse, thought abo-" you moan sharply as his thumb grazes over your asshole, spreading the slick and his spit around the tight ring. "fuck, sir- that feels good." you moan. he groans in response and the words fly from your lips - "you drive me crazy, so big, t-touching me all the time. dream about you filling me up- s-stuffing me full, even out in the woods-"

your words are too much for Joel, apparently, because his hand slaps over your mouth and his voice whispers, "sh-shut the fuck up, darlin', y'needa be quiet or I'm gonna finish before this even starts." he grunts, hips snapping into yours as he picks up the pace.

you whimper at his words, arousal gushing from you and coating his cock in your slick; the wet slapping of your bodies echoing through the bathroom. "fuck-" he drags out the word, fingers sliding over your lips to prod at your mouth, "here- suck, darlin' - there you go, good girl, that's right."

your tongue slides over his fingers, eyes fluttering closed as you feel his thumb breach your tight hole; a sudden rush of pleasure runs through you as it hits you - Joel's everywhere. he's filling you completely - his thumb slowly fucks your tight ring of muscle as his cock spears your cunt; his fingers, pressing down on your tongue as you whimper and moan around him.

a groan leaves his full lips; "fuck- look at me." he grunts, hand sliding up your throat to pull your jaw towards your reflection. "look at me, baby-" his fingers slide back into your mouth as your eyes meet the fire in his through the mirror.

"always tell me when you feel like this, 'kay?" he asks, brows stern as he rams his hips into you; his thumb fills you and fucks into you at a slower speed than his cock, sending searing pleasure through your entire body.

your flesh moves at the impact of his hips and you cry out as his cock hits the delicious spot inside you that curls your toes. his thumb slips from your ass and you whimper dejectedly; the full feeling subsiding slightly as his hand grips your tits, pinching your nipple as he hums in your ear. "don't want my pretty little slut feeling so needy all the time, right?" he mutters, nosing at your hair as he fucks into you with no abandon. your fingers clench to the sides of the sink as you let out a strangled, "yes, sir-"

"so if you use your words, I'll give you anything you want." he groans, hand smacking your ass as the other squeezes your jaw. you nod, agreeing with his words though his cock has rendered you nearly speechless. he hums in approval before muttering, "now you're goign to play with your clit until you cum."

you let your eyes roll back at the commanding tone as your hand snakes down to rub tight, blisteringly pleasurable circles over your bundle of nerves.

but it's immediately too much so soon; you're already so close to your orgasm that a jagged gasp falls from your lips, jumping at the feeling.

"no, 's too much," you moan, head falling back as your finger teases your clit, flames of pleasure licking up isnide you.

but Joel smirks, "why're you still doin' it, then?" he teases, cock hitting so deep and bruising that you think you may see stars.

you moan out, "w-wanna cum, wanna make you happy, Joel." you whimper, completely forgetting to call him sir; but you feel his brows furrow as a moan ripples from his lips - "y'makin' me real happy right now, darlin', look at you. fucked out on this old man's cock, doin' whatever I say, desperate and willing. you're perfect, aren't you?"

you shiver in pleasure at his praise, fingers shaking as you rub your clit, trying so hard not to ruin your orgasm by cumming too soon. his cock spears into you at a pace that will certainly bruise your hips; your breath is punched out of you, your gasps and moans painting the air.

"say it, baby." he orders, hand stroking your breast a staunch contradiction to his brutal pace. "tell me how perfect you are for me."

you wail, head falling back onto his broad, thick shoulder as he runs his mouth over your shoulder, nipping as he goes. you're out of breath - "p-perfect, I'm perfect for you Joel, fuck, don't stop. so good, so good-" you mumble, fucked out after only a few minutes.

he hums, nodding into you. "taught you well, didn't I? you're my perfect little star."

you nod, "yes, sir, thank you-" you squeal in pleasure as he strokes long and slow, pushing you nearly to the brink as your legs shake. you can't take it, though - your fingers stop their ministrations, shaking and burning as you pull away from your clit, so close from just his cock and-

a slap to your cheek as Joel's lips bite into your jaw, "put your fuckin' hand back right now. you don't stop 'till I tell you to."

you swallow shakily, shaking your head, "I can't- it's too much, I can't-"

"fine." he snaps, slapping your cheek again before one hand slips to grip hard at your shoulder, lifting one of your legs up onto the sink; his other hand snakes down to pinch your tortured clit and you scream as he grunts in your ear, "I'll do it myself."

he's unforgiving on your quivering cunt, barely able to stay upright as he pushes you down, your cheeks pressing to the cool counter as he pounds down into you, shooting you into a hurtling race towards your orgasm.

he brutally fucks into you in a blinding pace. you nearly scream as white-hot pleasure rips through you, your hands falling to the counter as he coaxes a mind-bending orgasm from you. you see white as you cum, pulsing and writhing over his cock as it spears into you, splitting you open.

"that's it, baby-" he lets out a loud moan, biting into your neck as he continues the brutal pace, "jesus- s'fucking tight, baby, can barely move-" his hands fall to your hips, using you as a fuck toy to finish himself off; you're still writhing with the ecstasy of the orgasm, relishing in the way his hands hold you.

"where're you gonna take me, baby?" he grunts, voice strained: he's so close.

you scramble, holding his hips as you nearly pass out - pleasure too much. "cum on my ass, please sir." you mutter, heat licking up your throat as the words come out.

he moans and pulls out of you suddenly, hand flying from your skin to his cock, a slick noise as he quickly tugs himself until hot spurts of his cum paint the skin of your ass. "pretty girl," he grunts to himself, "an' you're all mine."

you hum, moaning quietly as his thumb soothes over your skin, spreading his cum over your ass and pressing it slightly against your ass. your cunt flutters in arousal at the action and he hums, "y'like that, don't you, pretty girl?"

you nod as you let out a shaky sigh and he presses a kiss to your spine, "good." it's a whisper on your skin, a promise.

he's barely grabbed a towel to wipe his cum off your skin before you're turned around on jelly legs - his strong arms pull you in so fast you barely have a second to straighten out - he's nuzzling into your wet hair in a way that has your heart thumping and your throat dry.

his heart beats against your cheek, body warm, chest heaving along with yours.

heat, affection - they swirl in your chest as his bare body cradles yours. intimately.

your sweet skin is sticky with sweat when Joel comes to, out of the bliss of his and your orgasms.

he's just as sweaty as you, though the clean skin and foggy mirror have started to clear up. Joel nearly huffs a short laugh at the thought of taking yet another shower - christ knows the two of you are once again filthy - but he kind of likes it, in a way. a secret.

he brushes it off when he feels your fingers curl around his arm; he had barely noticed that he'd tugged you upright and right into his chest, holding you as tight as he could. for some reason, his mind reaches back to earlier in the evening, when he'd heard that branch - the fear, the panic that'd risen in him. he's not sure why, or at least, he won't think about it. you hadn't mentioned it, but he'd seen your hands shake and your eyes cloud with fear.

something for another time, because he has you warm and pliant and naked in his arms. he barely noticed how his lips press at your hairline; it's just... well, feels natural.

like you both need it.

"stay here, please." you ask meekly, quietly. the first words spoken in a minute; you're swallowing around the nerves and anxiety that crawl in your chest, he can tell. he feels them, too.

he's taken aback as he stares at you - you both have patrol again in the morning, is it not... aren't you going to get tired of him?

won't you find him annoying, or gross in the morning when he inevitably pulls you closer in his sleep, when the dreams are too real and he shoots up in bed?

the panic subsides as he stares into your warm eyes, hopeful, bashful. he smiles gently, biting through the smile in embarrassment at how willing he is to stay. he'd stay forever if you asked.

Joel nods through his surprise, though, his body and heart and head aching to lie with you once again, to feel the calmest sleep he's had in years.

"course, darlin', I'll..." he pulls you in closer, so he doesn't have to look at those damn eyes when he finally admits it -

"I'll stay as long as you want."

feedback welcome as always :') <3

#let's chat abt mr miller #joel tlou smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel smut #joel x reader #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #the last of us (tv)#the last of us smut #pedro pascal smut

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greatooglymooglyyy · 1 month

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Say Goodbye Part IV (Chris Sturniolo)

part 1, part 2, part 3 , full masterlist

contains: friendship issues, pining, hurt feelings, 1.1k words

a/n: sjsjdjdn FINALLY HUH? okay so i hope y'all aren't too mad at me for the wait. cus i love y'all. but this series has 2 more parts and then i'ma wrap it up.

“What do you want?”

“Roll down the window!” I say back, adopting his same stern tone. Matt huffs out a sigh of frustration but does what I asked.

“I really don’t wanna hear your excuses right now, bro.” He grinds out, his eyes drifting over my shoulder like he can’t be bothered to look at me.

“Good, because I wasn’t going to give you any.” I reach in and grab his phone from where it’s resting on his leg and pause the music before dropping it back down. “There’s no excuse for how I treated you. You’re not an extension of Chris. I should have had a conversation with you. I owed you that.”

“Fucking right, you did-”

I cut in before he can get too self-righteous, needing to make my point. “But tell me the truth. How many of those times you called me were for Chris’ benefit? Tell me you wouldn’t have tried to convince me to take him back.”

The hard lines of his face begin to crack a bit as guilt settles in. “He’s my brother.”

“Exactly!” I say, reaching out and touching his shoulder. “But I was already on unsteady ground. Reminders of how much Chris was hurting would have crumbled me.”

Matt closes his eyes and, after a second, nods like he understands. “When you guys started dating, we said no matter what there would always be a me and you.” He says, his voice is small and unsure.

“I know. This time let’s mean it.” I suggest with a small smile, extending my hand.

He looks down at it and grins before bringing his own hand up and doing the secret handshake we made at seven.

“Me and you, kid.”

*********************************************************

Somehow I knew when I stumbled into the kitchen to find the three of them there, I would find myself on a road trip.

As soon as we had gotten back inside, Chris suggested that we head up to Maine for the boardwalk.

Surprising no one, Chris had refused his regular seat in the front to join me in the third row after we picked up Nate and Leah. It had been easy to forget the last year for those couple of hours. It was easy to forget all my problems with my legs thrown over his lap and him giving me a carefree smile.

But when we finally park and scramble out, Leah gives me a look like her eyes are about to pop out of her head and it all comes crashing down. I’m supposed to be holding this boy at arm’s length. I decide to stick close to her for the rest of the day, pulling her towards the beach when the boys want to go explore the games.

We pick a good spot to lounge and set up our towels but just when I think Leah and I can hide away for the day, Matt and Chris jog over.

“Do you want to go paddle boating?” Matt asks Leah, knowing good and well how scared I am of going too far into the ocean. Leah on the other hand loves it and hesitates, looking over at me. I sigh and nod her off, not missing the subtle blush that spills over her face when Matt helps her up.

“So I guess it’s just me and you huh?” Chris says with faux innocence. I roll my eyes but can’t help but smile at the way he flops down beside me.

“It looks that way. Where are Nick and Nate?” I ask, sitting up to look around for them.

“They made some kind of dumb bet about who can win the most tickets in the arcade.”

I smile and nod. It sounds about right. “I’m surprised you’re not right there with them.”

He grins and I can tell I set him up to say something beyond corny. “I got my eyes on a different prize.”

I groan and cover my face in embarrassment while he bursts into laughter. “Get the fuck out of here,” I mumble.

“Come on.” He says, sitting up. “Let’s ride the Ferris wheel.”

*********************************************************

“I don’t like that this bitch swings,” I grumble, holding on tight to Chris’ arm as the Ferris wheel begins turning.

He pulls his arm away from me and slings it over my shoulder instead. “Yeah, it’s not my favorite thing. But I like the view.”

I force myself to open my eyes and see that he’s absolutely right. From up here the water is so blue and pretty, stretching out and giving the illusion it goes on forever.

Excitedly, I turn back to Chris and find him watching me with a contented smile. The look in his eyes makes me so weak in the knees that I’m glad we’re sitting down.

I’m torn out of the moment by cheering and clapping and we look over the bar to see an adorable couple who just got engaged. I grin and join the celebration, whistling.

Chris turns back to me and nods at them. “This how you want yours to go down?”

“Oh fuck no,” I answer quickly. “Public proposals terrify me. I will literally kill you-” As soon as I say it, I realize my slip and snap my mouth shut but it’s too late.

“Me, huh?” He’s cheesing but not as cocky as I expected. He pulls me into his side and I lay my head on his shoulder with a sigh.

We stay that way for the rest of the ride, feeling the gentle breeze on our faces and becoming unable to stop scooting closer.

When it’s over, we decide to head toward the gift shops. On our way over to the pier, Chris reaches down to hold my hand but I pull away, shooting him a stare.

“What? I can’t hold your hand?” He asks, a little irritated.

“It’s not very friendly,” I answer, stressing the word.

“Cool.” He reaches down and takes my hand anyway. “I already told you, I’m not your friend.”

I let it go as we enter the shop and begin to look around. We go our separate ways as I try on sunglasses and he searches for some new shirts.

But when I turn around to ask his opinion, he’s surrounded by a group of girls a bit younger than us. He’s smiling as he takes selfies one by one, clearly used to this.

One of the girls notices me staring over and nudges her friend. “Isn’t that the girl we saw you with? Is that your girlfriend?”

He barely looks up and laughs. “Nah. Childhood friend.” The girls turn away giggling, one placing a hand on his arm casually.

I do what I do best and push down any hint of hurt on my face, putting the sunglasses down and walking out of the shop. I can't believe I keep letting myself forget the reason I walked away in the first place.

I'm half way down the pier when Chris catches up to me, breathing hard. "Why'd you leave?" I give him a look of disbelief, studying his face. He really doesn't see the issue and that's our biggest problem.

"No reason, Chris."

"Are you really mad that I took a couple of pictures with fans?" He says, reaching out and grabbing my arm to stop me from walking. I look down at his hand with my eyebrows raised and he removes it. "It's my job."

I give him as bright a smile as I can manage. "Who said I was mad, Chris?" I turn and continue walking to the beach, spotting the rest of our group chilling near the water.

For the rest of the day, Chris tries to get my attention and bring back the mood but I dodge him, sticking close to Leah. When it's time to go, I ask Nate if I can take the passenger's seat and catch up with Matt.

Through the rearview mirror, I catch a look of hurt flash over Chris' face but I refuse to let it affect me. I made a promise to myself on that pier and I'm going to keep it. I'm done letting Christopher Sturniolo disappoint me.

🏷️/ @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @rootbeerworshiper @st4rswrld

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hyewka · 10 months

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STRICTLY PLATONIC [teaser] | choi beomgyu

SUMMARY. fucking your best friend was supposed to be a one time thing in the hopes of relinquishing feelings for your ex, but a one time turned into a weekly and cuddles after sex are way too intimate for your liking. but beomgyu insists that he’d never catch feelings for you, that he’s experienced in these types of arrangements. he still saw you as his best friend! it was totally only platonic for you too… right?

GENRE. smut, fluff, angst, college au, a hyewka fic with plot and structure.. sort of

TEASER WARNINGS. nothing explicit just some marking lol

AUTHOR NOTE. the dream fwb fic ive been wanting to write for ages so thank you to the ask i recently replied to as it was the main motivator for this 😭 this is going to be a long one so we're going the traditional route with a teaser, im opening a tag list so if you wish to be added send an ask or comment!

You’ve never seen Choi Beomgyu in a different light. That’s what you liked about him, that everything was so… constant. Your life could crash and burn but hey, Beomgyu was still Beomgyu— your friendship was a variable in your life that stayed undeniably the exact same.

You know, until you allowed him to fuck your brains out.

Even the sole fact that you have given the thought of Beomgyu being a ‘sex symbol’ has you quivering out of sheer horror— Beomgyu… has never been a sex symbol. Sure, he fucked around, and has a reputation and yeah sure, he was crazy hot when he isn’t showing signs of extreme sleep deprivation …but you’ve just never seen him in that light.

And to have let it simmer in your thoughts for longer than a second, makes you just a tinge hesitant in letting the silly goof pull you into the dancing crowd. You whine, “I’m tired Beomgyu! My heels are killing me.”

He either doesn’t hear over the blasting music or isn’t going to give it up because he pulls you in anyway, crashing your head right into his chest and you let out an instinctual ouch at the hard surface. Your eyes are wide looking up at him, sputtering out an unbelievable sentence. “Have you—have you been working out?”

His grin widens, holding up your arm to guide at feeling out his biceps. “Every now and then.” He doesn’t mind the minute it takes you to actually feel every muscle through his shirt, in fact he’s relishing in your sudden pique of interest in his body.

Whether he’s flexing them or not doesn’t show in his face—he looks completely relaxed and you finally admit—Beomgyu is getting toned.

“Why? You hate working out.” You could barely muffle those words with the way he had you engulfed in his arms, leaning his head in your neck, swaying side to side as if the song blasting was off of Taylor Swift’s Lover and not a Lil Wayne remix.

And he hasn’t even gotten a drop of alcohol yet.

But it’s true, Beomgyu hated the gym. Like, even more than you did. Which is a testament in and of itself.

He pulls away from the crook of your neck, a pout on his lips. “Didn’t you say your type was muscular men? At Halloween weekend?”

Halloween weekend was a year ago, the first frat party you managed to get into with the help of Beomgyu’s friend, Jake. You barely remember anything from it. Other than the occasional retells of the nights by Yunjin’s words, which are always a different version of the same story... so a not very credible source. “I mean, I guess they are. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know, just saying. Jaehyun was suuper muscly.” Okay, the random mention of your ex…maybe he had some drop of alcohol.

“Are you drunk?”

“You took too long to come back, lost at beer pong.”

“How many shots?” you interrogate.

“Two.” At your suspecting glare, he continues on, “Four…five…like, at most seven.”

Your eyes bulge out, huffing out a scoff. You guys always got wasted together! Noticing the furrow of your brows he holds you tighter whining, “I know I know, sorry, I tried telling Heeseung but he’s a savage cruel man, I was practically force fed that cup.”

You don’t doubt that he attempted to persuade Heeseung but you do doubt the force feeding, it only takes a couple nudges before getting Beomgyu to drink. “I’m just slightly tipsy, not drunk yet anyway. I pledged to never ever get trashed without you. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

You slap away the hand he puts up over his chest, incredulously, losing your control over the fits of giggles when he takes your flying hand in his, taking advantage by intertwining your fingers together. “What are you doing?” your cheeks probably hurt from all the smiling, you don’t know, you think your nerves are numb.

“Can’t a guy hold his twin flame, platonic best friend’s hand?”

Skinship was not an unfamiliar with Beomgyu—he was always a naturally clingy guy. You figured when the first ever official lunch hangout you’ve had with the boy and a few of your other friends, had included a lot of random footsie.

You didn’t even know him that well in high school. Who plays footsie with an acquaintance? Choi Beomgyu, that’s who. Yet even after some reluctance that day, you end up letting him have his childish, sort of endearing fun.

Though this was all but childish, the innocently mischievous twinkle of a scrawny teenage boy had been long gone, instead replaced by the most attractive man’s hungry, lust filled gaze. “Who told you to look so sexy today?”

The theme was Angel & Devil—to match with Beomgyu, you insisted on giving him the angel outfit, and you the costume of a devil. Matching was always the fun part of these parties. “Only today?” you drawl, making an exaggerated sultry trail with your finger on his chest.

“God, shut up, you know you’re always hot,” You don’t expect the seriousness of his tone, especially when you were just teasing, but he snakes his hand around your waist, pushing you further into his body, your tits suffocatingly pressed against his chest.

You do not expect the slight squeeze to your ass, your eyes shooting particularly wide, blood rushing up to trickle your cheeks. “But I like it when you’re a little devil, makes you so sexy and alluring.”

His face buried into your neck again, this time not missing the chance of taking a deep inhale. Beomgyu could stay like this forever, filling his lungs with you, and only you. “Still can’t believe I had my hands off you for so long little devil.” Your eyes flutter shut, taking quick breaths as he moves his soft lips to your neck, wet kisses with a slip of teeth nibbling just slightly to tease, planning on coloring you with all the pretty purple hues.

And you’re sure he was well on his way until you sober up at the abrupt change in the DJ’s track.

“Beomgyu, not—not now, we’re in public.” And surrounded by tons of people that you’re either friends with or know. That broke one of the most important pillars of your agreement—to keep the fuck buddies ‘thing’ a secret.

You don’t expect the speed of his instant pull away when processing your words, blinking his pretty lashes and the tipsiness away—his doe eyes are too much of a weakness, the little furrow of his brows something you desperately want to kiss and smoothen out. “Oh. Oh yeah. Sorry.” he scratches the back of his neck, genuinely apologetic.

And eats away at you. You know Beomgyu well—he hates keeping things secret, he’s the type of person to flaunt relationships all over his feed in that lovesick puppy way that most women could only dream of having—but you weren’t dating. And that was the boundary set.

You didn’t ask him to pull away completely though, but here you were, awkwardly as distanced as you could be in the middle of a rager with sweaty college students rubbing their bodies against each other. As gross as that was, you zero’d in on something less of a given: the fact that you’ve never felt this way with Beomgyu. Ever. It was like you were starring in the most awkward coming of age indie movie, y’know, without the crazy scenery and cinematography.

And more often than not, you find that these occurance of realisations, become more and more frequent. You feel things you’ve never felt a certain way with Beomgyu. Which only brought you to realize something else; Beomgyu was now a changing variable in your life and you’re not entirely sure how to handle that.

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year

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Pairing : Seungmin/Minho x F!Reader TW : arguing ; reader feeling unwell ; reader depression (Minhos) ; reader fainting ; reader su**ide attempt (Minhos) ; hospitals ; IV's (Seungmins) ; the boys being jerks honestly (this is obviously not an accurate depiction of them) ; very angsty ; fluff at the end but it's like a sad kind of fluff??? ; Word Count : combined - 6.3k (Seungmin - 2.4k) (Minho - 3.8k) Request : Anonny : Can u write a VERY angsty drabble(?) but with a fluff ending when seungmin/minho argue with reader on how they don't take care of the house and don't let them explain, but the reader was extremely sick and out of the sadness they try to clean and end up fainting, wake up when seungmin/minho come and fluff at the end? A/N : OF COURSE I CAN MAKE IT VERY ANGSTY! THIS IS WHAT I LIVE FOR! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST!! I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!!

Seungmin

Seungmin had been staying at the dorms for a while since his schedule was so packed, and usually you’d be begging him to come back home because you missed him, and it’s not that you didn’t miss him, quite the opposite actually. You had gotten ill, and at first, you thought that it was just a minor bug that you’d get over in a couple of days. You didn’t expect for whatever it was to completely take you out of commission, leaving you bed bound for what felt like forever.

You weren’t the type to whine to anyone about being sick though, especially not Seungmin, not because you thought he didn’t care, you knew that he did, he cared far too much sometimes, and you knew that if you had told him, he’d try to juggle looking after you and taking care of everything at work at the same time and he’d end up just as sick as you. You’d hate to pass whatever it was that you had onto him, and potentially even the other members when they had so much to work on, so you took care of yourself, and honestly, it was easier that way.

You didn’t know how long he’d be gone for, and you really thought that you’d have more time. Time to get yourself feeling better, time to get healthy enough to get back on the chores that you had abandoned for a bit just to take care of yourself. It’s not like the house was in complete shambles or disarray, there might have been a few dishes in the sink and the rug hadn’t been vacuumed in a few days. There was some laundry that was most definitely building in the hamper, but it’s not anything that couldn’t be started and finished in the span of a few hours once you were feeling like yourself once again.

“For Christs sake…” You heard Seungmin mutter to himself before you had even registered the sound of the front door unlocking. “It’s a pigsty here. What the hell has she been doing?” He continued to talk to himself as he made his way through your shared apartment, and you could hear the dishes being moved in the sink, rather loudly, only further worsening the headache that you had. Before you had the chance to even get out of bed to explain, he walked into the bedroom, finding you laying down, surrounded by pillows and covered with so many blankets you should be overheating. “Wow!” He exclaimed, shaking his head as his tongue tsked in disbelief.

“Minnie…” You sighed, trying to push yourself upright, the motion causing your head to spin and your stomach to tighten. “I’ll… I’ll get on the things that need to be done… I just haven’t been feeling well and-” He scoffed loudly, cutting you off mid sentence. “I’m serious… I-”

He cut you off again, not even letting you finish before he started to talk. “How convenient that you get to lounge around and be lazy while I’m working to pay the bills. All I ask is that you clean up after yourself. You’re filthy.” He spat the last word at you, and if you weren’t so exhausted from being up all night coughing, you might have had the energy to start crying. All you could do though was stare at him, confused and wounded by the words that he threw in your direction. “I’m glad that you thought you could take a vacation though while I’m busting my ass all week.”

Your head shook quickly, only making you more sick. “That’s not… I’m not on vacation I’m… I don’t feel good… I’m so tired and… I think that maybe I should-” He laughed loudly, although the sound was more sarcastic than anything. It had you wanting to sink down into the mattress, disappear into the thick foam and hide away from him.

“You think I’m not tired? I shouldn’t have to come home thinking I can finally relax after working for a whole week and then have to clean up after you.” He snapped, and you wanted so badly to argue with him, but he wasn’t going to listen, he was already pissed off and he didn’t want to hear what he thought to be excuses. “You know what? I can’t… I’m going back to the dorms. You’re just… ew. I can’t.”

Your mouth stayed shut as you watched him walk out of the room, then the front door slammed shut. He had left. You hated when he was mad at you, you wished he would just listen, but you knew well enough how he got when he was irritated. You wanted him home, you missed him dearly, you loved him. In his mind, he had every right to be mad, and while what he said wasn’t the nicest, it had come from a place of his own exhaustion and annoyance.

“Sorry…” You muttered, not to anyone in particular, but you wanted to get the word out, the word that you had been holding onto for so long now. He’d come back if the house was clean, that’s all you had to do, and while your body was run down from being up all night and any slight movement had you feeling like you’d throw up at any moment, you needed him there with you.

You pushed yourself to get out of bed, your legs wobbling once they hit the floor, but you hoped that you’d get better if you just started moving. The AC had been turned off and the heat had been cranked up, but you were still shivering, just another sign that the fever hadn’t broke yet, but maybe moving around a bit would help… You weren’t sure how, but you could hope.

It was a miracle that you had managed to start the laundry, the constant bending over and standing straight back up to throw clothes in the wash had your balance absolutely shot, but a couple seconds of leaning against the machine had you feeling a little better, or at least like your equilibrium had balanced out enough for you to move onto the next task. All you had left to do was vacuum and do the dishes.

To run the vacuum would require too much movement, and you didn’t want to jump into that, not yet at least, so you opted for, what you thought would be, the easier job. You made your way into the kitchen, just the small walk had you out of breath and hunched over the sink as you tried to keep yourself from puking. Your hands shook as you turned on the tap, it felt like you were shivering, but it was far worse, you couldn’t get it to stop. Your vision seemed to black out constantly, like you were blinking a little bit too long and far too much.

It was like lifting weights, getting the dishes out of the sink to wash them, and even though the water had steam coming up from it, your hands felt like ice. The room was spinning at this point, and you couldn’t keep yourself upright, the exhaustion from everything, the fever, it had all taken a hold of you at once, and before you knew it, the glass that had been in your hand was shattering against the floor and you crumbled down right next to it.

His phone vibrated in his pocket nonstop, he knew it was a phone call, and he assumed that the first two times it happened that it was you asking him to come back. It wasn’t until the third call came in, throwing him off during practice that he yanked his phone out, prepared to tell you to stop bothering him until he saw the number.

“Hello?” He answered, confusion lacing his tone. He could hear in the background of the call a slight commotion, and while he usually wouldn’t be one to worry about things like that, there was something about the feeling of urgency, the fact that this random number had called him 3 times in a row that had a certain sense of panic creeping up on him.

“Yeah, I’m on the phone with her boyfriend right now.” The person on the other end responded to someone nearby, and Seungmins stomach dropped. What the hell was going on? Who was this lady talking to? Obviously it was concerning you, and now he was extremely concerned about you. “Sorry, uhm… Your girlfriend, she uhm… She had an accident and…”

He was already grabbing his jacket off the hook and pulling it on, his feet ghosting him through the practice room doors and down the hall. “An accident? What kind of accident? Is she okay?” He rushed out the questions, sprinting now as his stomach rose into his throat. Had you tried to come to the building to talk to him? Was it a car accident? Were you okay?

“She fainted… There’s glass everywhere and… The paramedics are making sure she isn’t cut up or anything…” Those words only had him panicking even more. Glass? You fainted? Had you been driving and passed out? He didn’t hear any cars in the background, and he didn’t hear any emergency vehicle sirens. “Her fever is really high… They’re uhm… They’re taking her to the hospital… Right now? Yeah… Right now…”

The lady was obviously talking to the paramedics in between trying to give him any sort of information, and it was extremely frustrating to have any sort of details being relayed to him through the phone. “Is she gonna be okay?!” He shouted, his mind in a haze now as he stood outside the building, probably looking like a madman as he ran his hand through his hair trying to figure out what exactly to do and where to go.

“I’m not sure.. They’re loading her onto the gurney right now… They said… She’s breathing… But the fever is too high, she… She might have an infection or something? I don’t know… I’m sorry.” The lady spoke as fast as she could, and Seungmin tried to listen to the voices that were coming in through the background, but they were muffled and grainy and he couldn’t make anything out.

“I’ll meet them at the hospital. Thank you.” He was sure that he probably sounded inconsiderate, and when he had the chance, he’d apologize to whoever the lady was for being so short. Right now though, he just wanted to get to the hospital that you were being taken to and make sure that you were alright.

One text to Chan and his hyung was racing out of the building, clearly confused and worried by the vague “I need to go to the hospital” text that Seungmin had sent him. It was hard to explain everything during the ride considering Seungmin had not an inkling of an idea of what was actually going on himself. All he knew was that you were there and the last things he had said to you were nothing short of awful. The guilt was eating away at him and he knew that if anything worse happened while you were in there, he’d never forgive himself.

“Are you gonna be o-” Chan began to ask as he pulled up right outside the emergency doors, but Seungmin was already out of the car. The thing is, he didn’t know if he’d be okay. It all depended on you, how you were right now, whether you’d be able to leave the hospital with him. He wasn’t okay right now though, he was far from it.

A fucking kidney stone. It explained everything, but it also sucked. They had to do emergency surgery to get it out since it was becoming septic and apparently you were pretty damn close to dying. It was a good thing that you had dropped the glass and that the person in the apartment directly below you was so nosy. If it hadn’t been for her rushing up to see what the loud bang was, you probably would have died on the kitchen floor. At least, that’s what the doctors said.

“Hey… sweetie…” Seungmins voice came from beside you, and you could have been angry, you should have been angry at him. If he had just listened, you probably would have been in the hospital a lot sooner and you wouldn’t have had to almost bust your head open on the kitchen floor just to get the attention of someone.

“I washed the laundry…” You whispered, because even though you should have felt nothing but rage at him for being so rude, instead you felt nervousness. Would he berate you still in the hospital? Of course, you should know that Seungmin loved you, that he’d never mean to hurt you, but right now, after everything that you’ve been through, you just weren’t sure.

He sighed softly, reaching out to grab your hand, gently and making sure to not touch the IV that was poking out from the vein in the top. “You shouldn’t have done that… You were sick, Y/N… Really sick.” His head shook as he scooted the chair closer to the edge of your bed, his other hand moving up to cup your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “You didn’t text me… You didn’t call me to tell me that you were feeling so bad… If I had known… Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your bottom lip jutted out into a small pout, refusing to look at him as you averted your eyes to the TV hanging on the wall. “I didn’t want to tell you… I didn’t know what was wrong… I didn’t want you or the guys to get sick…” And even though you weren’t looking at him, you still felt comfort with his hand in yours, and you intertwined your fingers with his own.

“It was a… a kidney stone, sweetie… That’s not contagious, it’s deadly…” He murmured, his tone, although quieter now, still holding the same urgency it had when he had first found out from the doctors what was going on. “I could have lost you… I…” His breaths were shakier now, just the thought of being without you had him on the verge of tears. He wasn’t the best at displaying emotions, not unless it was done in a teasing manner, but he knew that right now wasn’t the time for that. “I love you… And, for the love of God, if you’re feeling any type of sick… Tell me. Please, just tell me. I don’t care if it’s something contagious, I don’t care if I get it myself. I’m your boyfriend, I’m here for you, I always will be… You just have to let me. Can you promise me that? Promise that you’ll let me take care of you?”

Minho

It was that time of year. There wasn’t anything specifically pleasant or unpleasant about it, it was just… that time. Seasonal depression was just something that you had, and as much as you tried to find happiness in the things around you, it was hard. There wasn’t a particular reason why you were so down, your mind just had those days, or moreso, months, where it made you think and feel this way. You had looked it up, it was actually a common thing, although it usually happened more around the winter holidays, but there was no set time for one's mind to decide that it didn’t want to produce the serotonin that it needed. Your mind just decided that right now was the time.

You never told Minho about it either, you didn’t want him to think that something was wrong with you, you didn’t want him to leave you or feel like your emotions were a burden, so you had kept it to yourself, hoping that you’d be able to hide the symptoms of your depression from him when he was around. The thing is, him being around in general just helped, his presence alone kept your mind off of everything, he made you happy. If he knew that though, he’d push himself to be with you more often, and you knew that his career, his members, they needed him more.

Thankfully and unthankfully he was on tour when your bout of depression kicked in. He wasn’t there to be that ray of light that you needed when that dark cloud above your head started to pour, but he also wasn’t there to potentially find you sitting in the bathroom crying because you had accidentally spilled a drop of tea on the counter after just cleaning it and it made you feel like an absolute idiot. Maybe it was better that he wasn’t around for things like that, it would only worry him or confuse him or push him away from you, all things that you didn’t want.

Some episodes were worse than others, and this one wasn’t bad in the sense that most people would think. You just didn’t want to do anything, you didn’t want to get out of bed, you didn’t want to move. The only thing you had managed to do in the days that you had been laying in bed was cry, because ironically enough, you felt useless and worthless for being so lazy but you didn’t want to get out of bed so it just made you cry more because you didn’t even understand yourself sometimes.

The only thing that you made sure to do was feed the cats and make sure they had fresh water and that you cleaned out their litter pans. It wasn’t their fault that your brain was fucked up, and you loved them like your children, the least you could do was take care of them, especially since Minho had trusted you to look after them. As soon as you were done making sure they were cared for though, you would retreat back to your shared bedroom and climb under the covers, your mind running rampant just thinking of things that would send you into another fit of tears.

“Lovey, I’m home!!!” Minhos voice sounded through the entire house, and your heart sank, your own worries taking over. You thought that you’d be over your episode by now, but it had only seemed to get worse the longer he was gone. The only optimistic thought you had was that maybe his presence, his own happiness would rub off on you and pull you out of the slump that you were in. “What’s that… Oh my god, ew…” His footsteps carried him further into the home, but he paused right where the litter pans were, and you realized that you had fucked up. You hadn’t cleaned them yet today, but you made sure to feed the babies, and give them the water. You just weren’t in the right headspace, you forgot about the litter. “Leave her in charge for 2 weeks and she can’t even keep up on this…” He grumbled, and then his steps sounded out once more.

The words already had you going into a state of panic, your throat closing up and your chest rising and falling faster as you held back your tears. You didn’t want him to see you like this. “Shit… Shit shit shit…” You mumbled to yourself, quickly trying to get out of the bed before he had the chance to come through the door, but you had been a little too slow, the bedroom door flying open and hitting the wall, causing you to fall back against the pillow, pulling the blanket over your head. It was childish, it was foolish, but maybe if you hid yourself he wouldn’t yell at you.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” He muttered, moving closer to the bed and yanking the blankets down. The look of disgust on his face, the way his eyes rolled with his annoyance, it hurt far more than he’d probably ever understand. “Did I wake you?” He questioned, but it wasn’t genuine, it was snarky and rude and you knew that he didn’t actually care if he did wake you or not. “Is this the only thing you’re good at, ‘cause it sure fucking seems like it. You can’t change the litter pan? You don’t even have to change it everyday, all you have to do is sift it most of the time.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, looking at him only had you falling silent, and you thought that maybe if you didn’t see him you’d be able to explain. “I… I have been cleaning it… I just forgot today… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it…” You practically whimpered, trying to pull the blankets back up, hoping to find some sort of refuge or comfort under the familiar sheets, but his grip on the fabric stayed tight and the covers wouldn’t budge.

“Does your brain not work? You can’t just forget a day, Y/N. They’ll be shitting all over the house. I clearly see that you don’t mind living in filth, but my babies actually like to be clean.” It was insult after insult, and you knew that he had a right to be mad, his cats were everything to him, but he didn’t understand, and maybe that was your fault for not being upfront with him about what was going on, but it still didn’t mean he had to be so mean. “Can’t believe I trusted you with them. You can’t even take care of yourself, I mean… Jesus, look at you, it’s pathetic.”

You were trying so hard not to cry, he’d only find you more disgusting if you did, so you held it in, your lips pursed tightly shut as you held your breath. You knew that you didn’t look the best, you were wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants, your hair hadn’t been brushed in days, you hadn’t been keeping up on your skincare routine, you had let yourself go. Instead of finding something concerning about all of that though, he immediately jumped to degrading you.

“I’m gonna take them to my parents. Enjoy your vacation.” The words were spat at you and you were too scared to say anything, too scared to open your mouth, knowing that once you did you’d just start sobbing and you’d make a mess of yourself, although he already saw you as a mess anyway.

You waited for him to leave, the sound of the carrier crates being loaded with the cats who he apologized profusely to as he put them into them. It was your fault, everything was your fault, you just couldn’t do anything right. You didn’t deserve to be with someone as amazing, someone as hardworking as Minho. To be honest, you weren’t even sure how you had gotten with him to begin with. You remembered it, but you didn’t understand how someone like him could find someone like you even worthy of his presence, let alone his love.

As soon as he left, making his exit audibly known by the loud slam of the door, you were up out of the bed, making your way into the bathroom. You were like a zombie, and when you looked at yourself in the mirror you could only see yourself the way he saw you laying in bed. You looked awful, you looked horrendous. Your hair was knotted and mangled in the back of your head where you had been laying on it for far too long. Your skin was extremely dry and blotchy, your lips were chapped and your eyes were red and puffy from crying so much. You looked like a monster, certainly not someone that Minho would be proud to stand beside.

Your thoughts were worse now than they had ever been, destructive and demeaning as you stared at yourself in the mirror. He thought you were pathetic, he thought you were useless, he thought you were ugly… And you couldn’t help but believe all of those things. How could you not?

With shaky hands, you grabbed the first bottle of pills that you could out of the medicine cabinet, carelessly shaking them into the palm of your hands, not even bothering to count out how many you had before throwing them in your mouth and washing them down with a cup of water. He might think all of those things, but the cats… they didn’t understand, did they? Maybe you could just… show them… show them that you weren’t as pathetic as you and Minho thought you were. You at least wanted to show them that you did care, you cared about them, you loved them, even if Minho didn’t think that you did.

You grabbed a garbage bag from under the sink and started cleaning out the boxes, your head already spinning and your vision blurring, but you were hell bent on getting this done, at least one of the boxes if you could. You heart was running like a train, the sound of it filling your ears as you lifted the litter box into the black bag, trying your best to empty the contents of it, but you felt so weak, so tired, and you couldn’t breathe and everything was getting dark and all you wanted to do was sleep. You couldn’t stop yourself from falling back, it was like you couldn’t control your own body, and before you knew it, everything went dark.

His leg bounced nonstop as he stared at his phone, sitting on the couch in his parents home with his babies surrounding him, but he didn’t feel right, you weren’t there with him and he wasn’t in his home, he wasn’t with you. He had texted you repeatedly and you had yet to respond, something that worried him immensely considering you were the quickest texter he knew.

Maybe you were mad at him… No, not maybe… He was 100% sure that you were mad at him, and he knew that you should be. What he said was out of line, it was uncalled for. It’s not like the litter pans hadn’t been cleaned for days, it was simply one day and he had blown it out of proportion, he had said things to you that shouldn’t have been said at all or even thought about. You were the love of his life, you meant everything to him. He didn’t want to lose you because he overreacted, and it’s not like you hadn’t been actively taking care of his cats the entire time he had been gone.

Now that he was alone with his thoughts, he could see how ridiculous he had been, how rude, how shitty what he did was. You just hadn’t gotten around to cleaning the litter pans yet, it made sense, it wasn’t the best job to do, it surely wasn’t fun. He had blown up on you for no reason and he hated himself for being that way with you. He had taken the time to cool off, and while he was most certain that you probably didn’t want to see him right now, he wanted to apologize, he wanted to make the first step in setting things right and hopefully helping to heal the wounds that he caused you.

“I gotta go home real quick… I’ll be back to either spend the night or pick them up.” Minho called out to his mom, giving her a quick goodbye before leaving and climbing into his car. Thoughts raced through his mind about what you probably thought. Did you think he didn’t love you anymore? That he was possibly cheating on you and that’s why he had acted so horribly about something as simple as the litter? Did you think he was trying to push you away?

His fingers drummed anxiously against the wheel as he made his way home. He tried not to go too fast, knowing that it would only be worse for him if he got pulled over, but he wanted to get back to you, he wanted to tell you, show you how much he truly loved you, how much he regretted every single word that left his mouth this afternoon.

Your car was still in the driveway when he pulled up, you clearly weren’t out or busy, so you were either sleeping or just actively ignoring his texts, both of them seemed plausible and respectable considering the way he had left you. He had stopped off at a flower shop on his way home, and it felt like the first date all over again, his hands trembling around the bouquet as he walked up to the front door. Would you blow up at him when you saw him? It only seemed right, and he’d take every single word that you threw at him if you did.

Unlocking the front door, he saw that all of the curtains in the living room had been drawn shut, the same as they had been, practically blacking out the entire room once the light from outside had been blocked out when he shut the front door. “Y/N…” He whispered your name, his nerves wired as he thought about how you’d react to seeing him. Would you tell him to leave? Would you scream at him? Would you just continue to ignore him as if he wasn’t there at all?

His hands searched the walls to find the lightswitch, not wanting to trip on any cat toys as he walked through the house, and once the lights came on his eyes scanned the room. Everything was the same way it had been when he left, the only difference was the black lump in the middle of the floor. Truthfully, his eyes had darted right over it at first, the shape of it looked more like a blanket that had just been left out, especially since the light that he turned on hadn’t really illuminated that spot well, but when he walked over to the shape and his eyes finally adjusted to what it was, it was like his entire world stopped.

The flowers that he had been holding fell to the floor as he dropped down next to you, his hands immediately wrapping around you to pull you into his lap. “Y/N!” He shouted, his hands actively working to grab your wrist, his thumb pressing down to feel your heartbeat, and his own began to pick up in pace when he felt just how slow yours was. “Fuck… Baby please… Don’t do this to me… I’m sorry…” He was already crying, his tears falling into your hair and on your face as he fumbled in his pockets to find his phone.

It was only made worse when his screen illuminated with a picture of him and you together, your smile so beautiful that he couldn’t help but fall in love with you all over again whenever he saw it. He could barely get himself to dial the number for the police, and his voice was weak, shaky and choked out when he tried to speak. “I need an… An ambulance… My girlfriend… Please… Help… Help me!” Those last two words were shouted to the operator as he became more desperate, your body practically lifeless as it lay heavily against him.

Everything was crumbling, his heart, his life, his universe was just falling down around him and he didn’t know what to do. He held you close against him, his cheek pressed against your forehead as he continued to cry, heavy sobs shaking his body as he rocked back and forth on the floor. “Don’t leave me… You can’t leave me… You promised that you’d be with me forever… You promised me that…” He whispered, trembling lip kisses placed across your face between each sob. “Just wake up… All you have to do is wake up… For me… God, don’t leave me… Don’t…” He begged, tears pouring from his eyes like rain.

He refused to leave you, to let you go, even when the paramedics knocked on the door, and they had to enter the house themselves and pry you from out of his arms. “Is she dead… Don’t tell me she’s… She’ll be okay… Won’t she?” He was on his knees on the floor, his legs weak and unable to let him stand as he watched the men load you onto the gurney, but no one answered him.

The hospital room was too cold, it was too bright, there was so much wrong with it, but the biggest problem was the fact that you were the one laying in the bed right now. They had managed to wake you up, and luckily it had just been a fainting spell instead of anything worse, but he heard… He knew what you had done, and while he was angry with you for trying to take yourself away from him like that, he was even more angry with himself for being the one to cause that reaction in you.

He had just started to doze off on the couch, something that he hadn’t been able to do in days despite his exhaustion. The doctors had to keep reminding him that you were going to be okay, and the only reason you were still in the hospital at this point was to rest and to make sure all you didn’t have any other side effects to the medication that you had taken. He was thankful for that, but he wanted to take you home, he wanted to be the one who took care of you.

Sheets being rustled and the sound of disoriented grumbling had his eyes opening slightly, blinking the sleep out of them before turning to see you trying to get out of the bed. “What are you- Lay back down!” He practically shouted, stumbling over his own feet to get to you. Just the look in your eyes as you dropped back down onto the uncomfortable hospital bed was enough to show him just how much damage he had inflicted with his words. “Baby… Love, I-”

“Why are you here?” You whispered, fumbling with the edge of the scratchy hospital blanket that you had pulled up around yourself. “You don’t have to be here… I probably look more disgusting now than I did at the house…” Your eyes glanced around the room, your eyes rolling as a heavy sigh left your lips and your head fell back against the pillow. “I don’t need to be here…”

“Y/N…” He whispered your name, not wanting to raise his voice too high, afraid of upsetting you right now when you were clearly already not in the best state of mind. “You need to be here… You do… I need to know that you’re okay.” Not only did he need to know, he just needed you to be okay in general, although he was sure you didn’t want to hear that right now. “I love you, that’s why I’m here, and I’m sorry… I’m sorry for the way that I left…”

You pursed your lips, your eyes focused on the painting on the wall that didn’t look to be anything in particular, but maybe you found something beautiful in it. “You’re not wrong… You weren’t wrong when you left… I’m useless, and I’m pathetic and-” His hands were on your cheeks, cupping them firmly yet not too hard, his lips crashing against your own, leaving you in a state of momentary shock. “What was that-” You had begun to question when he pulled back, but you were cut off once again when he kissed you.

“I don’t want you to say that about yourself, I don’t want you to think that… You’re perfect, you’re amazing and… God, how could you possibly be useless when you do so much for me?” Your eyebrows lowered, casting shadows over your eyes as you shot him a questioning glance. “Don’t you know? How do you think I’m able to get through hard days and excruciating practices? It’s you… I just think of you and how great it’ll be to come home… To be with you… You’re the light at the end of the tunnel, and you’ll always be that for me.”

You swallowed thickly, turning away from him to blink away the tears that had begun to form in your eyes. “There’s something wrong with me… I’m not good enough for you… Or anyone…” You mumbled, trying so hard to keep your voice from wavering, but it was pointless when he was listening to you so intently he could hear the slightest crack. “I just… I didn’t want to not be with you… I didn’t want to be here if you… Didn’t love me and…” He shushed you quickly, his own eyes brimming with tears when he heard the thoughts that had played out in your head that evening spoken so sadly by you now. What had he done? “No… No, baby… No…” He cooed, his hands actively wiping away your tears and his own that were falling at a rapid rate down both of your faces. “You’re more than good enough for me… You’re too good for me. There’s nothing wrong with you… I think you’re absolutely perfect, and there’ll never be a day that goes by that I won’t love you.” He carefully scooted you over on the bed, making room for himself to climb in beside you which seemed uncomfortable for him, but he also didn’t seem to mind it either. “I’m not leaving you… And you’re not allowed to leave me either… Promise you won’t do something like that again. You don’t know how scared I was… I can’t lose you, not like that… I love you too much to let you go…”

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poeghoul · 5 months

Text

hard times iv

in which they share a first kiss.

word count: 4,567 warnings: fluff. fluff. major fluff. authors note: i love them so much. so happy with this part <3

three masterlist

It had become their new routine; Harry would pick y/n up from work, they would head back to her place and just lay with each other on her bed. It was bliss. Harry had never felt so warm in the coldest months of his life. She had become his sun. And he was her moon. Every star had shined brighter since she had come into his life. He was overcome by joy, and the little voice that warned him seemed to quiet down.

Y/n, like usual, fell asleep on Harry's chest. He was properly messing up her sleep schedule with how comfortable he was to fall asleep on. But how could she resist? He was warm and she had never felt more safe.

Harry loved to watch her sleep. He loved to watch her chest rise and fall at a slow, steady pace, loved to hear her soft breaths escape her lips, loved to be the one she fell asleep on. It was intimate, and though he had many, many partners, he felt this was the most intimate relationship he’d ever had. He hadn’t even kissed her yet; hadn’t even taken her on a date and though she didn’t mind, she hoped it would come soon. It scared him, not the date aspect, but the idea that she could say no. He was too in his head about it, fearful that the girl he’d deemed his sweet, little lamb would run off from a stalking predator ready to strike.

He was nothing of the sort. Nothing if not gentle with her.

He would never hurt her; wished to never see her cry again.

He’d gotten to know who she is, what she’s like when he’s not being standoffish or short with her. He learned she loved green, deep greens, and that the fall to winter transition was her favorite, even though the time change was damning for her. That her favorite scents were ones that made her feel warm inside. That she was a maximalist and called herself a hoarder because of it. He learned so much about her in so little time. He learned that he was truly fucked, that he was truly head over heels for her.

And she had learned so much about him, too. Learned that he loved to sing and play guitar when he had the time. Learned that Jax, Daniel, Lee and the rest of his “men” lived with him and most of the time, Harry wished they didn’t. He loved his alone time where he was able to be himself and not have to think about the numbers or details about his job. A job that terrified y/n, but she’d never dare to tell him. He loved blues and oranges, loved cooking and tending to his garden. Loved things she’d never expect him to. The majority of his interests had come as a surprise to her.

She loved his curls and the smell of his hair products. Loved his voice in the morning, deep and husky with the way he said good morning. Loved his forehead kisses, and holding his hand, and doing just about everything with him now. He was her newfound home. She’d go with him anywhere.

She’d never met anyone as soft with her as he is. She doesn’t think she’d meet anyone else who is. That made her happy. He made her happy; she was over the moon with him. Delighted in spending any waking moment with him.

+++

“Would you want to go on a date?” Harry stood against the only unoccupied kitchen counter in y/n’s apartment (he had told her many times already that her kitchen space was far too small for someone who bakes at her frequency). Her head shot up, looking at him with a slack jaw. An expression that made him smirk while he sucked frosting off his thumb, a ‘hmm’ sound leaving his lips; a gesture that had her throat drying instantly.

“Like, a real date?” he nodded. She bit her lips in her mouth, looking down at the plate of cinnamon rolls she was currently frosting. Timidly, she nods, mumbling the tiniest ‘yeah’ against Harry’s wishes.

“Didn’t hear that, little lamb. Won’t you speak up for me?” he stepped closer to her, looking down at her as she refused to show him her blushing cheeks.

“Harry,” she whined, still not daring to look at him.

“What? Couldn’t hear ya, that’s all.” she didn’t even have to look at him to know he was still wearing his smirk.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head before responding. “Yes,” she said, still quiet as a mouse.

But still, Harry wasn’t giving her what she wanted. “Hmm, still didn’t get that, angel.”

She pouted, finally looking at him and not caring that her cheeks were a deep red. “Yes. Yes I want to go on a date with you, Harry!” she practically shouted. He grinned down at her, dimples piercing his cheeks. “Are you happy now?”

“Yes, actually.” he scooped some frosting onto his finger and dabbed the white cream on her nose. She scrunched up her nose, her pout disappearing into a smile, “very happy now.” he said before holding the sides of her face and promptly licking the frosting off her nose, eliciting a squeal-like laugh from the girl.

“You’re so annoying,” she giggled, still grinning up at him. There had to be glitter in her eyes with the way they were sparkling. Harry swore there was a hole in the ceiling and her eyes were reflecting the brightest stars ever seen by man. “What do you want to watch tonight?” She asked the same question just about every night, always offering him to pick. He memorized her favorite shows (not her favorite movies though, as she had something called “top fifty picks”, which consisted of fifty of her favorite movies) and always made sure to pick something she’d love, even if he wasn’t a fan (he would never tell her that).

They sat down on the edge of her bed, a single plate rested on her thigh with two cinnamon rolls. She finally had the patience to wait for the dough to rise now that she wasn’t always alone and succumbing to her intrusive thoughts the winter brought. Time with Harry was the best distraction.

He held the remote in his hand, the piece of black plastic looked like it was made for babies in his large hands. He waited for her tv to connect to the wifi and scrolled through hulu while she waited patiently, her chin resting on his shoulder. He decided on PEN15 and set the remote beside him so they could dig in to their sweet treat.

It was the best cinnamon roll Harry had ever had.

+++

“I’ve always wanted to go there,” y/n said from the passenger seat as they passed by a recently shut down roller rink. Harry briefly looked to his right, the bright colors of the sign blurring past them as he drove.

They were on their way to pick up a pizza from the only pizza joint in their town Harry wouldn’t refuse to eat. Once he realized her diet mainly consisted of diner food and baked goods he swore he’d buy or make her something every night. Ever since that decision, y/n had not felt nearly as poor as she had before. Her stomach issues were significantly better.

“When did it close?”

“M’not sure, I think, like, a month or so ago. I dunno.” she shrugged, her hand playing with the rings on his right hand that rested above her knee. Her fingers were always cold, Harry thought to buy her some mittens, or even to take up crocheting to try and make her some.

The ride was silent, not filled with tension as it had been when they first met, but one with comfort and warmth. Harry left the car running as he went inside to pay and pick up their pre order. A large cheese pizza to share. He was happy to know she had an aversion to meat just as he did.

Y/n had never gone to Harry’s home. Didn’t even know where or what part of town he lived in, if he even lived in town. He was strict, for some reason, on her not venturing there. Which is why they always hung out at her apartment even though he thought it was far too small even for one person.

Harry parked in his normal spot and ran over to y/n’s side to open the door for her and pick the pizza up from off her lap, the heat from the pizza almost burning her thighs, she didn’t mind, though, it was nearly freezing out (for her). She thanked him as they made their way up the stairs. The bells on her doorknob no longer bothered Harry. Much like her, he’d gotten used to the annoying sound.

And as per usual, they sat on the edge of her bed, two slices of pizza sat on a plate that rested on her lap, and she waited to start on her piece until Harry had selected something to watch. Entertainment was necessary for consuming a meal, even if she had Harry with her.

He was quiet the rest of the night. It worried her to no end, he hadn’t been like this in some time. And he left at 8 pm, even though he said he’d stay the night, claiming he had a meeting with Niall he had to prepare for. She kissed his cheek and mumbled a good night before he walked out her front door.

Her tongue was thick in her mouth, lip quivering and eyes welling over with tears that dared to spill at any moment. Her heart pounded in her chest, somehow feeling so heavy but empty at the same time. The anxiety she hadn’t felt in weeks was creeping up her throat, greeting her with a gag and bile toppling to her floor. A vicious way to say “hello, I’ve missed you”. Her mind was reeling, going at a million miles an hour, all thoughts of Harry calling off their date, blocking her phone number and pretending she never existed plagued her mind. She heaved out a sob, pulling her knees to her chest and letting the tears fall freely. She didn’t even care about the mess she had made, she just wanted to sleep and ignore the pain she hadn’t felt in months. The tender ache an unignorable feeling even as she slept.

+++

H.🕯💌

Good morning, little lamb. Jax will be taking you to work this morning. Please call me when you’re off. Xx

She tenderly held the phone in her hand, a wave of relief flooded her as she read the message, thankful her anxious thoughts were disproven. That was the only good moment of her morning.

As soon as she got out of bed, her right foot stepped into the puddle she had accidentally left overnight. She gagged, covering her mouth with her hand and let out a small scream of disgust. Hopping on one foot, she grabbed a roll of paper towels from her counter and hopped back over to her mess. She practically unraveled half of the roll and laid it over the puddle before wiping her foot off. While cleaning her mess, she calculated how long of a shower would be acceptable this morning in order to not be late to work. If she didn’t make a coffee or have a cigarette that would give her an additional twelve minutes to get ready, and eight of those would be spent in the shower, so maybe she would be able to make a coffee if she allowed it to brew while she showered. If she brushed her teeth in the shower would that give her more time?

Jax was always early, standing next to the back passenger door right outside her apartment building, and sent her a toothy smile. “Sweet pea,” he greeted her as she buried her face in his chest, placing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Rough morning?” she nodded into his chest.

Her shower wasn’t even peaceful, the water was freezing, she almost fell when she got out, barely catching herself on the edge of the sink, and her mascara was not doing her long lashes justice, just leaving clumps of black on the small hairs.

Just eight hours. Eight hours of orders being barked at her, arguments with the cooks and a small unpleasant interaction with Ross in passing. Just had to get through that and she’d be able to retreat to her home and call Harry and hear his deep, soothing voice. The time would go by quickly, right? It had to, just had to.

But this was y/n, a girl plagued by an unjust number of unlucky days. The hours went by so slowly, she swore she’d turned 25 by the time her first fifteen minute break came. And she spilled coffee on herself, rolled her ankle and dropped a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage and pancakes all over the vinyl checkered flooring. By 12 pm, she had three cigarettes and four cups of black coffee. She hated black coffee.

She felt drained by the time 3 pm rolled around, and couldn’t wait for her last table in her section to pay their tab. It was a group of four guys, all around her age and fairly attractive but nothing in comparison to Harry. They had asked her a series of uncomfortable questions and asked her to be in their tiktoks, she politely declined each time they asked, offering a smile and a ‘I’m not allowed to, sorry’ at every request.

Once she had seen them put a card on the receipt on the table, she practically ran over and picked it up off the table to run it through their outdated machine. She was buzzing with excitement. She approached the table, leaving their copy and the diner's copy of the receipt on the edge with the card on top, but they weren’t letting her go that easy.

“Wait,” one of them, a curly headed brunette, grabbed her arm as she turned to walk off. “Do you have snapchat?” he held his phone out, the app already opened, for her to grab. She wasn’t sure she was hiding her annoyed expression well.

“Oh, I have a boyfriend. Sorry,” she half smiled at them, a dimple carving in only one of her cheeks.

“You can’t have friends?” he laughed.

“I can.” she deadpanned, “I’m just respectful towards my partner.”

They all scoffed, the one with a poorly grown mustache rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Whatever, you’re not even that pretty.” She smiled at that.

+++

“Harry,” y/n whined from the passenger seat, a blindfold covering her eyes while Harry held both her wrists in his right hand. He chuckled at her, barely acknowledging her.

“Don’t want to hear it, little lamb.”

“But-”

“But nothing.” he squeezed her wrists for a brief second, “gotta be a good girl and stay quiet if you want your surprise.” That had her heart pounding, a pool of warmth between her thighs, but she ignored the sensation.

“Pleeaaaseee,” she turned her head, pouting at him, or at least she thinks she did. She doesn’t know if he had seen it.

Harry had told her over the phone that they’d go on their date that night and to wear her bell bottom jeans and to avoid wearing a chunky sweater. She reminded him it was late December in northern California, he simply told her to bring a jacket and that he’d be there at six before hanging up.

She rummaged through her closet as soon as he hung up to find her jeans, unsure of when she had last worn them or if they were even clean (they weren’t, she had to pay a visit to the small laundry room in her complex and prayed they’d be washed and dried in time). She paired the jeans with a tiny tank top with lace details and bow that embellished the neckline, but covered her top half with her thickest sweatshirt.

Again, he squeezed her wrists together and shushed her while wearing a grin.

At some point, she could feel him making four right turns and two u turns at different lights. He was trying to throw her off, she could tell. He had thrown her off the moment he pulled the blindfold out and covered her eyes as she got in his car. He had to resort to holding her wrists, not trusting her after her first attempt to pull it off.

“Almost there, angel.” he spoke quietly. She just nodded in response, eager to be there already and see what he had planned. She had made up a variety of scenarios, one being a road trip to Disneyland (unrealistic) another being a museum date (also unrealistic, there were no museums in their tiny town). She was buzzing in her seat, anxious to get out and rip the stupid blindfold off.

The car was shifted into park but Harry still hadn’t released her wrists. She went to whine again to him but he cut her off before she had the chance.

“If I let go of your wrists, you promise to not peak?” she hesitated but nodded. “Y/n,” he said in a stern tone.

“Harry,” she whined once more, “I won’t, I won’t I promise.”

“If you peak we’re leaving, got it?” she nodded immediately. “Good girl.” she smiled as he released her wrists. She had to put her hands under her thighs to keep from removing the blindfold.

Harry opened the door for her and grabbed each of her hands again, but this time he was guiding her.

“We’re gonna go up a ramp,” he instructed her, allowing her to brace herself for the sudden incline. Her heart pounded in her chest, she felt like vomiting all over again. “Going inside now,” he guided her through the door, holding it open with his elbow. Funky disco music played loudly and she could faintly hear arcade games in the back.

He continued to guide her throughout the, still unknown, place. She even tried to tip her head back to peak out the small gap but Harry caught her as soon as she made the move. She groaned at him.

“I’ll take it off right now lamb, don’t be impatient.” She pouted at him as he let go of her hands, grabbing her shoulders instead to position her correctly. “Okay, my little eager bunny,” he took the blindfold off, she squinted at the sudden lights. “Happy first date,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her head.

Her mouth was agape, slightly frowning, her eyes welling all over again, about to pour over at the sweetest gesture ever made.

The disco music was louder, a man stood in a booth with DJ equipment before him, neon lights roamed the room and a disco ball reflected all over the big, empty space, casting a fluorescent glow on the two. Shooting games, skee ball and an air hockey table was on her right side, behind that a snack counter, a worker messing with her phone stood alone, and behind a grinning Harry, another employee stood with racks of rollerskates behind him.

He had brought her to the roller rink. The exact one she had brought up the previous day.

Once Harry noticed her expression, his face fell, his hands going to her waist to pull her into him. “What’s wrong, little lamb?” she shook her head, her tears falling freely, “Baby, please. Please tell me what’s wrong,” Harry’s voice was just above a whisper.

Still she shook her head, sniffling. “Nothing, Harry.” she cried, “this is the sweetest thing anyones ever done for me. It’s so,” she sniffled again, “you’re so perfect.” she scrunched his sweater up with her hands as she burrowed her face into his neck, pecking at the exposed skin. His hands rubbed her back, breathing in a sigh of relief. He had truly thought he messed the whole night up, thinking that maybe when she said she had always wanted to come her she had meant with someone else. He was so grateful for a different answer. “Thank you,” she whispered, kissing his neck once more before releasing her death grip on him and giving him a smile. He grinned back at her and kissed her nose, she giggled.

“Of course, little lamb. I’d do anything for you.” that alone had her ready to sob all over again. “What size, princess?”

+++

Harry was terrible at skating.

He, for some reason, thought he’d be a pro at it.

But he was absolutely not a pro, could barely even stand for more than ten seconds without almost losing his balance. He was gripping y/n’s arm so hard it was likely he’d leave a bruise for her to discover the following day. She insisted he use one of those skate mate guides, but he was too stubborn and refused. He fell on his ass right after he scoffed at her for even suggesting it.

Y/n was holding his hands while she skated backwards, watching his feet and giving him pointers to make it easier. “Keep your knees bent,” she slowed down their speed so he could readjust his stance, his feet almost rolling out from beneath him as he almost wobbled over. She grinned at him even though he was too focused on his feet.

“Maybe you should skate by yourself for a minute,” he exhaled through his mouth, still looking down at his feet.

“No, I wanna skate with you.” He just shook his head, letting go of her hands. “Please,” she grabbed his forearm, trying to stabilize him once more. He gave her a half smile. “You’re just trying too hard, I promise it gets easier.”

“Just wanna sit for a minute.”

“Okay.” She helped him to the edge of the rink, watching as he sat down on the bench and ran a hand through his hair.

“Show me how fast you are, little lamb.” He cocked his head to the side, smirking at her and leaning back on his hands.

She gulped, the fire deep in her was reignited once more, but again she ignored the feeling. She took off, shuffling her feet beneath her and leaning slightly when the rink curved. The wind on her face felt nice, the heater that filled the room with a warmth that would be comfortable if not trying to skate for two people and her chunky sweatshirt had been overheating her, her cheeks a bright pink. Harry was hollering at her from his spot on the sideline, “See how fast you can go without me? I’m weighing you down, little one.”

Laughing, she turned on her heel to skate backwards while she passed him, showing off her skills she had learned when she took up skating years ago, and turned right back around to gain more speed.

The DJ was set on playing a mix of the Bee Gees, ABBA and Earth, Wind & Fire, the best skating mix in her opinion. She whirled past Harry in a blur, barely seeing the grin that took up half his face. He shook his head at her, impressed with her ability to not only balance on the skates but also go as fast as she was. He just wished he could be doing it with her.

“Please come back out, Harry. I won’t let you fall, I promise!” she shouted from across the rink, slowing down her pace and holding her hands together as she approached him, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“Please,” she whined, standing right in front of him, her hands still clasped in front of her.

“Hmmm,” he tapped his chin, mocking her. “No.”

“I thought we were on a date.”

“We are, last I checked.”

“So you have to skate with me, Harry, that’s, like, a rule.”

He took his bottom lip in his mouth for a moment, watching as she stared at his lips even after he released it. “Fine,” she grinned, and stepped on the platform with the bench to help him up. “I’ll skate with you,” she grabbed his hands, helping him stand up to tower over her. He looked down at her while she grinned up at him, hands still intertwined, but she made no effort to move. Neither did he.

Slowly, Harry began to lean in, his eyes still piercing into hers, while she tilted her head back. She gulped as he leaned in further to close the distance between their lips, her eyes closing with bliss.

His lips were soft, plush against her own, his warmth radiating off his body. Gently, his hands broke from her tight grip, resting on her cheeks to pull her closer to him. Her lips were sweet, the blue raspberry Icee she had ordered from the snack counter lingering. Harry reveled in the taste, silently begging for more. He couldn’t get enough. She was soft, delicate in his hands and he held her like a porcelain doll, so incredibly careful to not break the precious glass of her skin.

She wanted, no, needed more of him. Wanted him to be hers entirely. Wanted to feel him entirely. She gripped the hem of his sweater, whining on his lips as he wouldn’t allow her tongue access to wander where it pleased. She was electric, on fire and still he wasn’t giving her what she wanted.

Hesitantly, he pulled away, sucking on her bottom lip slightly before releasing it. Her eyes fluttered open, pupils dilated, taking up more space than Harry liked. He smiled down at her, longing in his eyes, and kissed her nose before moving his hands to hold hers once again.

“I thought we were here to skate?” he teased, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. She, naturally, smushed her face into his chest again, taking in the scent of his cologne, her newfound favorite scent. Pine.

“Wanna go home,” she mumbled into the wool of his sweater.

“Hmm, why’s that?”

“Wanna lay with you and sleep,” still muffled.

Harry exhaled deeply through his nose, breaking his gaze set at the crown of her head, suddenly fearful he had ruined her night by innocently kissing her. He removed one of his hands from hers, patting her on the back before slightly pushing her away. “You sure?” she nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Will we be able to come back? How much longer will they be open?”

He grinned, “whenever you liked. I know the new owner.” He didn’t mention it was himself.

+++

The tv played quietly, a rerun of Bojack Horseman playing (the talking horse show as Harry liked to call it) while she slept on his chest. A snoopy blanket covered her boy as Harry laid succumbing to the cold bite of her apartment. He didn’t mind the chill, wouldn’t even mind freezing if it meant she’d be with him as he endured the hypothermic shock. The pain would serve as a reminder that they both were real and together.

In a whisper, an “I love you” was heard.

crying only because i'm happy

tags: @tiaamberxx @jerseygirlinca @n0vaj3an @tpwk-mia @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921 @love-letters-to-uranus @ribbonknives @annesauriol @moneybaby07 @stylesfever @hermionelove

#harry #harry styles #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #one direction #harry imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry fic #writing

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stellar-skyy · 5 months

Note

Hellooo!! May I please request Зима as a lover? Just sweet fluff with how he caught feelings, how he expresses his love, silly things about him, headcanons, etc. I hope this wasn't too confusing and I'm super sorry if I broke one of the rules, you can just ignore this if I did. Thank you so much nevertheless!!

WINTER ADRIFT — Zima x reader.

i. SUMMARY: Zima as a lover. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: Fluff, so fluffy, headcanons, gn!reader, 0.7k words. iv. A/N: Hiii anon!! I was really happy to write this, I love this silly little man. Thank you for the request! ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ

Zima is a very serious looking person. He doesn’t smile often, his words are few and far between, and when he does speak it is quiet and under his breath.

Despite this somewhat intimidating appearance, Zima is a very soft person at heart. He adores his little bird, his notebooks filled with scribbled poetry and other writings, and of course you.

You, who appeared in his life as quickly as rainfall, bringing a certain light that he’d never experienced before. You, who split his life into two: the Before, and the After.

Before, he was a lonely poet wandering the Far East, with no one but wild animals to keep him from complete isolation. There was only his bird, his poems. It was a quiet life, one that let loneliness seep in far too quickly for his liking, but it was predictable and calm.

And then came the After. Before, he didn’t mind the solitude. But After—After, he couldn’t bear it, because he’d finally gotten a taste of what it was like to not be alone.

Zima’s days turned from sitting still for hours, writing diligently in his notebook, to walking alongside you through trees, watching the snow fall against his windows together, and baking bread in a kitchen far too small for two.

He fell for you very quickly, even if it took a while for him to realize it. It was only when he reflected upon his notebook and its contents, and noticed the sheer amount of writings dedicated to you. He doesn’t quite focus on his work after he’s penned it, so it was easy enough for the poems to be composed and then tucked away into his mind without realizing how many of them were a reflection on his feelings towards you.

By the time the two of you were properly together, he had already written enough to spill the contents of his heart ten times over.

He’s a very early riser, so he always ends up waking up before you. When he wakes up, he likes to look over at you; to watch your chest rise and fall in a careful rhythm, and observe the way your lips slightly part with every puff of breath. He’ll brush a hand over your forehead first, moving any loose strands of hair out of the way, before pressing a quick kiss to it.

Physical affection isn’t easy for him—in fact, he’s rather shy about it. He would prefer to hold your hand or chastely kiss your cheek rather than be overly affectionate, but if you ask for a hug or kiss, he won’t refuse.

(He gives amazing hugs. Just tight enough to feel secure without being restricting, and warm enough to keep away the winter chill.)

Even if he wants to shower you in sweet words and compliments, he isn’t flawless in the language and sometimes his speech fails him. Talking out loud is more difficult than writing, so the loving compliments he does give you are to be treasured.

Instead of words, he leaves you with gifts. A poem, dedicated to you. Wildflowers, picked from the snow and tied together with a ribbon. Baked foods, each more delicious than the last.

He’ll spend hours with you, not talking, just existing in the same space as him. If you sit with him long enough, you’ll be able to hear quiet mumbles under his breath as he becomes fully absorbed in his writing.

He knew he loved you as soon as the animals became as comfortable around you as they were around him. It began with his bird, who despite being all but glued to his side ever since they had met, decided to land on top of your head and settle in your hair. Next came the rabbits, and the ferrets, and then all of the rest of the creatures.

Those animals were his companions, his friends. It was inevitable they would love you just as much as he did, and seeing them warm up to you so quickly was only further proof that you were the one for him.

Seeing you sitting there, with his bird nestled into the crook of your neck, a fox curled on your lap and an elk resting at your side…

He can’t think of a moment where he’s felt more content.

“Hmm? What are you smiling about?”

“Ah… it is nothing… you simply look… perfect."

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #st. pavlov foundation #reverse 1999 x reader #r1999 x reader #reverse 1999 x gender neutral reader #reverse 1999 x gn reader #r1999 x gn reader #r1999 x gender neutral reader #r1999 zima x reader #zima x reader #reverse 1999 zima x reader #r1999 fluff #reverse 1999 fluff

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drdemonprince · 5 days

Note

Any chance you'd expand on the hank hill trans guy post? (Sorry, best indicator I could come up with.) The concept interests me as I decidedly know my maleness, yet don't feel impeded by for the most part, any male gendered norms/boxes. I am fairly masculine, though I rarely use those kinds terms to describe myself. I have found I often do stray outside of what society pushed for me when I transitioned, yet I again do not feel it has taken from my right to maleness whatsoever. I am just me, who happens to be male. I have had friends try and suggest I am NB adjacent but I do not feel this way whatsoever. I feel more people are outliers to gender expectation than we care to admit and it's disappointing the way cis-people deny that. Hope this wasn't too long winded, I value your writing and perspective, and wanted to hear more of your thoughts on this.

Yeah, well so many things all get conflated by gender labels, and it's all so personal, you know? Masculinity does not have to mean maleness, and a person's gender identity might be a reflection of some innate quality they experience themselves as having, or a general summary of their tendencies, or their desired presentation, or their sense of affinity with other people, or an interpersonal tool, or something they just go along with because it was given to them by society, or any other number of things.

I think my recent substack piece on detransition goes into this pretty well, and I have an upcoming piece of what @pastimperfection calls "bilateral dysphoria" that comes out next week that delves into it too.

I think I mostly saw taking on a male identity as a means to an end more than any kind of innate reflection of who I was, though I did feel an affinity with effeminate men for a lot of reasons. I think I also discounted how much I have in common with my fellow nonbinary people of all stripes, because that identity became so strongly associated with being an annoying type of queer person that everybody else just wrote off as ultimately being their assigned gender at birth anyway no matter how much they protested. it doesn't help that 'nonbinary' is a catchall term for literally thousands if not millions of very distinct experiences and desires.

transitioning gave me control over how i was perceived, finally, but hormones are a throttle that only go in one very specific direction, and you don't really have all that much control over which changes kick in at which times and what people will make of you once you do start registering to them as some identity other than what you were first saddled with. it's an incredible gift to be able to toggle that throttle. but it's limited, not because medical transition isn't incredible and needed for so many, but because there is no escaping the goddamned binary cissexist logic that influences everything about how people treat you, how you navigate institutions, who finds you desirable and what they want out of you, and so much else.

if you're able to cast a lot of the external societal bullshit aside and feel strong in your maleness, maybe you're stronger than me or maybe our orientation to these things is just different, i don't know. i was never all that sensitive to feedback that i was doing the whole being-a-woman-thing all that wrong. i reveled in violating those rules to an extent. succeeding at being a woman despite my best attempts was what felt super dysphoric. and now i guess im succeeding at being a man, insofar as im always read as one, and it feels just as uncomfortable and objectifying and false. i thought that with manhood i could probably just grit my teeth and deal with it, but i'm finding that i can't.

ive always been very open that for me, gender is a thing I Do, and i guess to those who know me well it wouldnt be surprising to hear that i have gotten tired of Doing Being a Man and dont feel like playing that particular gendered game anymore. I tend to get bored of things! and find the flaws in things. and find my comfort in being fault-finding and contrarian and not being a joiner. and thats okay. i learned a lot along the way. not having to try any more is a huge relief. i can just do whatever. and know actively that people will more often than not be wrong in what they make of me.

maybe it was natural feeling for you to decidely 'know' your maleness without a care for masculine standards because that is the right identity for you! and maybe i only feel secure in the "not knowing" realm and in letting go of what people think of me or finding any kind of tidy categorization for it because that's the right spot for me. for now. until i find a new interesting way to be unhappy and striving for more and different again. :) that's just part of being alive, for me.

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icallhimjoey · 1 year

Note

What would you think would be Joe's reaction when you guys are having an argument and you, right off the bat, list all of your insecurities and say its the perfect excuse for him to break it off with you (I mean if-- dare to dream-- I was in a relationship with him, I would spend every waking day thinking there's someone way better for him)

ew gross, so yes, absolutely, i had to write this (also ive been getting accusations of my readers being too confident, so, i tried my best to make us a little more insecure for this one) (hope you enjoy!) Wordcount: 2.3K

---

What's Best For Me

You noticed immediately that his hands had stopped reaching out. No more touches. That's how you knew it was actually serious.

Joe knew exactly how to hurt you the most, and it wasn't by being quiet, by ignoring your words, by refusing to talk... It wasn't the lack of kisses when he'd walk in, or the fact that he had just gone for a shower and locked the actual door (when was the last time you'd locked any doors in this house? Had you ever?).

It was the hand that didn't reach out. The fingers that didn't play.

His fingertips that didn't caress the sliver of skin that your top would expose when you'd reach for something up high in the kitchen.

His hand that didn't curl around your neck, just to hold onto it whilst you watched TV on the sofa together.

Even the open palm that didn't find your arm or your shoulder when you made a comment that would make him laugh.

Joe skillfully moved around you in the bathroom that morning, without a touch. Not even a bump of a hip or a rub of a shoulder. Nothing.

Joe kept his hands to himself, and he had done since he'd gotten home the day before. It pulled and stretched something inside you that wasn't meant to stretch. You could feel it pull tight when he'd walk in, and snap back harshly when he'd walk out. It almost made you hold your breath in his presence, sighing deeply with frustration when you'd be left alone again.

And logically, you understood.

There was a lot going on.

Professionally and privately, there were many balls up in the air and Joe had only just learnt how to juggle and it was all tense. Scary and new. And then, just to add onto everything, Joe'd been advised to really actually stop smoking for real this time because people were asking what brand of cigarettes he smoked, and fucking hell, if there was one thing Joe didn't want to be, it was a bad influence.

"Joe?"

"What?"

You wondered if him being annoyed and irritated could actually mean something sweet.

Like, maybe it was safe enough to be short and snappy with you because Joe knew you'd still be there for him after.

Or maybe it was the fact that you hadn't really asked Joe much about his feelings. His thoughts. The second he grew a little more distant and buried himself in his mind, you'd... kind of done the same. And you reasoned that Joe would come to you once he was ready. But, what if he wouldn't?

"Does this need washing?"

You held up one of Joe's shirts that had been discarded on the one chair in your bedroom.

"No, I..." Joe sighed, closed his eyes in sheer frustration. At least, that's how you read it. "That doesn't fit me anymore,"

You looked at the shirt. It didn't look like Joe didn't fit it anymore, but you weren't going to test him on his word.

"Do you want to get rid of it?"

"No, just - just leave it, I'll get to it later,"

"Joe, I'm trying to make the bedroom look less untidy,"

Maybe that had been the problem. You weren't insanely organised and would let mess build until you'd have a moment of clarity and would want to deep clean the entire place within 4 minutes. Maybe that was what had gotten under Joe's skin, and why he hadn't leant over you to press a kiss onto your forehead yesterday, when you'd been napping on the sofa when he'd walked in.

Joe probably thought you'd been lazy and had left the place too messy.

"One shirt won't make a difference, just leave it on the chair. I need to go through my wardrobe later and it'll just get worse then anyway,"

All right. Fine.

You placed the shirt back where you found it and thought to yourself, maybe that's it. I'm a pushover.

Joe really only had to grumpily say one thing for you to comply. So weak, it was kind of disgusting.

And you didn't really communicate much, ever, did you? Because you didn't know how to express clear thoughts and feelings, so you'd let Joe swim in the dark for ages which, God, must be really fucking annoying.

And you looked around and saw that Joe's shirt was really all that Joe contributed to the mess in your bedroom - the rest of it was all you. Old make-up wipes and cotton buds caked with mascara laid on the side, and there was clothing all over.

You were messy, and closed-off, and an easy pushover. Wow. What a deal Joe got, Jesus Christ.

Catching sight of yourself in the mirror only made things worse.

That was the person Joe was with?

Was he sure?

Of course he wasn't. Had you not been paying attention? You didn't blame him. Look at you.

Best to keep busy. Actually tidy the place. Give Joe one less reason to be mad. Or worse, disappointed.

You flung every piece of clothing from the floor onto the bed where you started sloppily folding and categorising - grouping what needed to be washed, and what you knew had gone straight from the wardrobe to the carpet when you hadn't been able to decide on what to wear earlier.

Fuck.

This was one of those moments where the fix was so easy, and so readily available as well. You just needed Joe to place a warm palm onto your shoulder, or his fingers to squeeze the back of your neck. It would ground you enough, give you something to focus on and calm you right back down. Words wouldn't even be needed at all.

But you weren't getting any of those touches, because Joe was keeping those touches to himself, and as a result, you found yourself holding back a monster sob in the back of your throat that was growing more desperate to escape by the second.

"Hey, I'm going to..." Joe walked in, but stopped.

And you froze, because you knew, one wrong move, and that sob would get out. But you also couldn't hold your breath forever, and Joe saw how tensed you were just from a glance at your back.

"Oh, Jesus, if the shirt is such a problem," Joe started, and it could have been half a joke, but you weren't sure, and it definitely didn't help.

You swallowed thickly with your back towards Joe still, and hoped Joe wouldn't mention any of the insecurities that were swirling around in your brain. Those didn't need to be set in stone right now.

"N-no, it's fine," oh man, you hated how that came out all shaky as you quickly reached for a pair of your joggers and a hoodie that you balled up into your arms. "Maybe, I think, I'll go and stay with my sister for a few ni-"

"Hey,"

A soft, warm palm curled fingers around one of your biceps from behind and god fucking damn it, it pulled a wrecked noise from you. Embarrassing.

"I don't– that was a joke," Joe tried, and you could hear a breathy laugh escape him as you quickly brushed away the evidence of tears as if Joe couldn't see you make the actual motions right in front of him before you turned around.

"I know," you smiled, tried to save yourself of whatever this situation was becoming, and tried to sound all chipper as you said, "She, my sister, she asked and, wanted the company, so–"

"No she didn't," Joe scanned your whole being and frowned. He knew you were lying. "What is happening right now?"

"Nothing, I'm just..." you were pathetic. Couldn't even make eye-contact with your boyfriend. "I'm sorry, I'll just, I will get all of my shit out of here and get out of your hair for a minute, I think," you stopped and breathed deeply. Joe tried to find your eyes but you kept them trained at your feet like lasers.

"I think that's what's best, f-for now,"

You tried to step around him, but Joe wouldn't let you and reached with two hands that grabbed you by the shoulders.

"Best?" he started. "Best for who?"

That was when you looked up, and were met with two eyes that looked... a little confused, almost patronisingly so, because you saw that little smile dance behind that exaggerated pout. Like Joe hadn't been avoidant and short-tempered with you.

Oh cool. So you were also delusional and would jump to conclusions. How fun for you.

"It's okay if you don't want me here for a little bit, I don't–"

"Who said... because of a shirt?"

"You locked the bathroom door," you pointed and it made Joe turn his head to where the bathroom door was before turning back to you. Worry etched his forehead deeper now.

"Babe, you're speaking to me in riddles,"

And so you decided that you'd just let him know that you knew.

You knew that he hadn't kissed you when he walked in the day before because obviously you'd let the place slowly turn into a pigsty. You were a lazy piece of shit, you were well aware, but you know, Joe could've just said.

And Joe'd been distant because you hadn't really been there for him, had you? Not emotionally, because, you were awkward and weren't good at communicating when it came to feelings, and Joe was very clearly all up in his feelings, all the negative kinds, and you weren't emotionally mature enough to level with him.

You understood he didn't like you for it. Obviously, you wouldn't like you for it either.

But then he showered with the door locked and he'd never done that before, and he hadn't touched you in over 30 hours - not that you'd been counting, but you had. You had totally been counting, you told him.

And it was different now, because of course you'd gone longer than thirty hours without touching before, but not like this. Not when you were around each other and you could see his hands from the corner of your eye as he fiddled with a loose string on his jeans.

And listen. You could easily go without his kisses for a bit. You didn't mind if you didn't have sex for a while. Hugs even, if Joe didn't want to hug you, that was okay. You would manage. But a simple hand that didn't reach to squeeze your thigh, and didn't cup your face...

"Wait,"

Joe tried to stop your rambling, but there were tears now and you kept trying to fold the pieces of clothing in your arms further in on themselves, and listen, Joe, if you wanted to break up, you'd get it.

"Wait, wait, wait, stop. Stop! Look at me,"

At last. Eye-contact. Joe placed his two large palms on the sides of your face, moving your hair backwards a bit as he did.

"What are you on about?"

You just looked at him, eyes all wet, nose all drippy, but so very pleased that you could feel the pressure of his fingertips on your skin.

"Best for me? You think you fucking off to spend some time away from me is what's best for me?"

You kind of did, but, Joe clearly disagreed and it carefully made you question your entire train of thought, even if only for just a second before Joe pulled you in and hugged you tightly. He pressed your face into his chest and held it there in the crook of his elbow.

"I'm sorry, you're right, I've been–"

Joe sighed deeply, and you heard it rumble in his chest. Joe squeezed your side in his hug and it made you twist his T-shirt into your fists as you hugged him back.

"Everything's just... it's all happening at once, and, I can't just go for a quick smoke, and it's all I keep thinking about, I know it's awful, but..." Joe exhaled through a laugh. "I've just been in my head too much, and now I don't fit that stupid fucking shirt anymore because I gained weight, and–"

You squeezed tighter, and loved how there was more to squeeze now, so you were quick to say, "Stop, I love it," all muffled into his T-shirt.

"I know you do, but my wardrobe's not fit for it, is it?"

You pulled back a little, and looked up at him.

"So, we'll go shopping," you offered as a solution.

Joe ducked down for a kiss, pecking you lightly a few times before you said, "Or, for a run," and it made Joe chuckle as he tried to get more kisses out of you before he tightened his arms and hugged again. He nudged and rubbed his head by the side of yours like a cat would and squeezed his fingers into wherever he was touching you.

You had to try your absolute best to keep yourself together. To not melt into a puddle and sink into the carpet. That would only create more mess you'd have to then clean.

"I'm sorry," you said first, but then Joe quickly followed, "No I'm sorry,"

For a minute, you just stood in your messy bedroom and hugged, focussed on each other, focussed on Joe's hands and when you sighed deeply without it hitching in your throat, Joe hummed contently.

"This is helping," he then said, and you let your hands slide down his back to squeeze is bum. "Oh, that helps more, do that again," And it had you giggling, before Joe mused, "What's best for me is you, you idiot."

And you thought that Joe was wrong, but, he was allowed to be wrong. Joe could be wrong forever if it meant that his hands would be on you and you'd get to feel his warmth.

What was best for you was him. Not the other way around. But who were you to tell Joe? He could believe whatever he wanted, and hey, maybe one day, you'd believe it too.

---

The Taglisted:

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @afashionablesufferer @sadbitchfangirl

(taglist currently full, sorry)

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #rpf #icallhimjoey #requested

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hollyhomburg · 7 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt. 60)

(sneek peak)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Life changes come in many many forms; courting gifts, leaving jobs, and...Murder

Tags: Slow burn getting warmer, Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, Trans! Tae, Transphobia, gender thoughts, workplace discrimination, flashbacks, murder, graphic violence blood, suicidal actions

W/c: 11.5k

A/n: ah i'm hoping i'll finish this in time! if not T-T i'll be attending my cousins wedding at the time this is posted so! give me lots of love when you read it cuz i'm so nervous~ i've never been around so many fancy people before. also that photo of hobi? in the moodboard? tell me why it makes my heart FLUTTER!!!

Previous part ~ Masterlist

~-~

Chapter 60: Glass Slippers

Your breath goes just a little bit rapid, just a little, hitching when you think of it.

“Did Jin tell you anything?”

“He didn’t. Although my secretary did inform me that he filled out the paperwork for you.” The air in the therapist’s office is cold. Cold enough that it has you wrapping your sweater sleeves over your knuckles.

Your cheeks heat “My pack they- get a bit- protective.” Your fingers circle your wrist. You’re glad that Hobi convinced you to take one of his sweatshirts. He'd had a strange look on his face while he zipped it up, and you'd had to worry and wonder about it the whole morning. You'd worried more once he texted, just after he must have gotten to work.

“I have kind of a history of self-destructive behavior and I- I kind fell into bad habits a few days ago and blew up. It was all kind of triggered by this like- thing that happened with me and my other packmate.” It’s surprisingly easy to tell the truth.

You’re a right side better than you have been the last few weeks, now. A little bit more present, less foggy. The doctor just looks at her screen and not at you. What is it with her asking questions that make you not want to lie? Why does it feel like you should anyway?

Dr. Rima reads between the lines, what you're trying to say without saying it. “Is there a possibility of you hurting yourself again?” She clicks at the screen a little rapidly.

“No.”

The truth is you have no idea. It seems best to lie in this situation. But you consider it; one of your packmates making the call that you are too much to handle, that you need more help than they can offer. You imagine what it would be like to be in inpatient care. Grippy socks and group therapy and probably observed mealtimes. Maybe Iv's and feeding tubes if it came to that. Away from the pack and away from Yoongi.

He’s just downstairs, but that feels too far. There was no way that he was going to let you do this alone, you wouldn't be surprised if he never left the waiting room.

It’s just a therapy session. The very thing that you once refused. But now that you're here you might as well heal, you might as well work to stop this endless train of brief highs and endless lows. you'll give it a go, why not? What do you have to lose?

And yet, the texts from Hobi remain unanswered:

Ho-🐝 (9:48): Hey, I’m really proud of you.

Ho-🐝 (9:48): I’m really happy I get to be your packmate. In case you ever worry.

Ho-🐝 (9:49): And your best friend too <3

Ho-🐝 (9:51): Just so you knowwww

Coming Saturday September 23rd at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustment Below)

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misshoneyimhome · 3 months

Note

You mentioned that the inexperienced reader has gotten good at giving blowjobs to William. How did William react of skills of her rocking his world right before his contract meeting? He would totally test her flexibly after the meeting just to make her loose her mind.

Alright, we're taking a few leaps in time here - hope it all flows well for you 🤍

[Or who cares if it's a bit confusing; it's Willy smut, and we're all just here for the fun, right]

However, I do still hope you enjoy it, even though it turned out to be quite lengthy... 🙈 No pun intended

Also, I decided to weave in two other requests (1 & 2) to create a full chapter, so it sort of turned out to be three stories in one - please, feel free to share your thoughts (on the length, amount of smut, or anything else) - Otherwise, just sit back and enjoy 😊

Warnings; 18+ smut; oral sex (m receiving); mention of masturbation; praise!kink; light spanking; dominance!kink; thigh riding; edging; light bondage; unprotected sex (p in v); cum inside; more oral sex (m receiving, mention of f receiving); swallowing...?

I won't even try and defend myself on this 🙈 I know, nobody asked for 5.9K words of Willy Nylander smut... 🤍

[Credits to sarahaugenphotography]

[Inexperienced!reader x Willy]

・✶ ｡ﾟ

All good boys go to heaven - But bad boys bring heaven to you pt IV I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️

"Hey, you alright, babe?" you inquired, your voice gentle and cautious, while you looked at your boyfriend, William Nylander.

"Hmm... I’m fine," he merely responded, though his restless leg under the table suggested otherwise. His tense fingers played with the mug, even though he had already finished his coffee and was now just staring into space. His striking blue eyes sparkled, and his expression remained calm yet resolute.

You had just finished breakfast. Even though William wasn't initially hungry when you’d asked, you still prepared a small plate of his favourite pancakes, which he devoured with evident satisfaction.

"Hey, it's okay if you're feeling nervous. Anyone would be," you offered a soft smile across the table.

"I know, but I'm not - my agent has it all sorted, babe," he reassured you, although it sort of seemed like he was trying to convince himself, as you noticed his attempt at a smile, but it quickly faded.

Truth be told, William hadn't been particularly nervous during the many months of negotiating his contract. He had complete faith in his manager and agent, confident that he'd make the right decision no matter what.

While it wasn't a secret that William wanted to stay in Toronto - at least, that's what he had communicated to everyone, including the press - he understood that his career came first. If a better deal presented itself elsewhere, he would take it. But Toronto was more than just a city; it was home to him.

And naturally, you played a role in all of this too. Since you and William started dating, he felt a subtle desire to be wherever you were. Not that he'd ever choose not to transfer because of you – you understood that. Yet, a small part of him hoped to stay there so that the two of you could be together.

Especially since you hadn't really discussed what would happen if he didn't get an extension.

Yet today marked his final meeting with the managers, settling the last details, and hopefully, reaching an agreement to sign. Despite William not displaying any nervous emotions, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety on his behalf. This was a significant step in his career, and you wanted to be nothing but supportive. After all, you were in a committed relationship, and all you wanted was for William to be happy.

And as you both sat in silence, an urge to comfort your man washed over you. You wanted to make him feel at ease and tune into his calm pulse.

So, gradually, you got up from your chair and took measured steps around the table, placing your hands gently on William's shoulders as you tenderly caressed him. Your fingers traced his neck and the cascade of his long locks as you admired your stunning man. His composed demeanour had always impressed you, and now you felt the need to impress him as well – to show him just how proud you were of him.

Gently, you offered his shoulders a light massage, ensuring you wouldn't tense up his muscles. You observed him relaxing from his position, leaning back in the chair into your touch.

Noticing him slowly tilting his head back, you bent down behind him, placing a soft kiss on his earlobe before whispering, "Are you sure you don't need me to help calm your nerves?"

Your seductive voice echoed through his ear, and William felt a comfortable shiver run down his spine, as he closed his eyes, letting himself relax under your butterfly kisses on his neck. Your hands carefully sneaked in front of his torso, under his shirt by the collar, gently toying with his light chest hairs.

"Mmm... maybe I could use some help..." he moaned softly, feeling a small tingling down in his groin as one of your hands began traveling further down under his shirt.

And with a light bite onto his earlobe, you seductively added, "Then get up and let me take care of you..."

Which you didn't have to tell him twice.

Rising from his seat, you both moved around so William could lean against the dining table, and you stood in front of him, on your toes, sharing a deep, passionate kiss while tucking two fingers under the hem of his sweats. Pulling back, you looked him straight in the eyes with a flirtatious smirk. Then, you squatted before him, pulling down his sweats along with his boxers, letting his semi-hard member come in contact with the cool air.

Your eyes glinted up at him as you kissed his muscular thighs, his hand gently stroking your hair, and his eyes meeting yours. William couldn't help but gasp, slightly parting his lips as you kissed closer to his growing member, licking and nipping his sensitive flesh.

"Baby, no teasing," he muttered softly, as you used one hand to gently stroke his length, feeling how his blood flow made him completely hard for you under your touch. You licked your lips, hungry to make contact with his tender skin, and as he wished, you parted your lips to wrap them around his tip, circling your tongue before slowly taking him further into your warmth.

William let out small grunts as he felt you take him deeper with every slow motion, hitting the back of your mouth as you expertly worked him with your hand. Your saliva coated every inch of him as you concentrated on breathing through your nose, relaxing the back of your throat, allowing yourself to take more and more of him in.

Truth be told, you were rather impressed with yourself.

William wasn't exactly on the smaller side - nor unrealistically large. But he was thick, a good length that could fill you up completely and girth that could stretch you wonderfully. To you, his cock was perfect.

And as you bopped your head and offered him every part of your warm mouth in a seductive and sensual manner, you observed how his hips softly began to rock and his eyes turned away from yours, closing shut as he leaned back. One hand still in your hair, while the other held a tight grip onto the table behind him.

His breaths gradually grew deeper and more inconsistent as his climax built up, and he could feel himself nearing the peak.

"Oh yes, baby, so damn good," he praised you softly between moans, his hand gripping your hair more firmly. "Fuck yes... shit... baby, more... I'm getting close."

His words acted like a spell, and instinctively, you increased your speed, bobbing faster as you took him deeper. Your hand worked the area you didn't have in your mouth, feeling his hips thrust against your movements.

He was so close.

You sensed the tightening in his thighs, his hand holding onto the table, while his other hand ensuring you wouldn't pull away.

Then with several more bobs, William let out a deep grunt as he reached his climax, releasing into your mouth. And you willingly swallowed every bit, cleaning up his sensitive shaft with your tongue and lips.

William's breaths were deep as he regained control, his lungs filling with air as he slowly came down from his high, and you gently let go of his member.

"Fuck, baby, you're so good at this..." he softly muttered, and you couldn't help but elicit a chuckle as you rose from your knees.

"I just wanted to make you feel good before your meeting," you flashed him a mischievous smile, gently wrapping your arms around him as he pulled you in for a hug and placed a kiss on your forehead.

"Well, I must admit you really did, baby..."

You’d taken the day off from work to get the condo ready for a family visit, as they all wanted to be there for William on this significant day in his career. And while his father, Michael, had already headed to the arena to join William for the training session, his mother and sisters opted for some rest at the hotel before joining you later.

And as your boyfriend and his agent were in the meeting, you busied yourself with tidying up the place. However, amidst the preparations, you felt a bit naughty and decided to give William a sneak peek of what awaited him when he got home. You kept it classy enough though, considering the possibility that he might open your message it in front of others.

Meanwhile, across town, William was smiling during his meeting. Everything seemed to be falling into place exactly as he had hoped, and after months of negotiations, the final touches were about to be put down just before his signature.

The atmosphere was calm and relaxed as his agent discussed the details, and William mostly had to sit back and follow along. However, as the conversation continued and the final touches were being ironed out, his phone suddenly vibrated.

And as curiosity got the best of him, he saw your name on the display, yet knowing it could either be something nice or naughty, he decided to open your message – which turned out to be a seductive mirror photo of you in lingerie, accompanied by the text: 'Hope the meeting is going well for you, baby – can't wait to see you later.'

William had to gulp to contain his reaction. Shit, he thought. Of course, you'd be teasing him like this. But he couldn't help but smile. You were stunning, and with the meeting going in his favour, all he wanted was to celebrate with you later. And the way you’d already given him a taste of how good your mouth felt like, he had an idea of just what to do with you.

It had become a familiar game between the two of you, especially since the trip to Sweden where William had teased you all day, culminating in a passionate round of sex in his childhood home with his family just down the hall.

And describing how mortified and embarrassed you’d felt would be an understatement, but it only took a week for you to exact your revenge.

After the boys immediately went on tour following the Global Series, you became a master at teasing William, as you sent him lingerie photos, nudes, and dirty messages that had him thoroughly riled up. It was a perfect game.

And as he returned home, ready to reciprocate, you found yourself on a short business trip. Though it was only for two days, for William, it felt like an eternity.

It wasn't that you didn't crave his touch – of course, you did – but the thrill of the game was more intriguing. Besides, you managed to satisfy your needs with a vibrator, even sending him a short snap of the act.

And ýou knew you were in for a round of trouble.

Upon your return from the business trip, William wasted no time picking you up and taking you to his place. And without hesitation, you agreed.

He’d naturally tried to keep his cool at first. He ordered some of his favourite takeout, which you enjoyed as you lounged on the sofa. Then gently William began caressing your thighs and teasingly moving close to your core before retreating completely. Which he repeated a couple of times, well aware that it was slowly driving you insane.

However, you maintained a small smile on your lips, not wanting to let on how much he was getting to you. And together, you both managed to keep control as you watched a TV show.

But then, as you snuggled up to William in a spooning position and purposely ground your ass into his groin, he slowly grew impatient, and he felt the need to put you in your place.

It hadn't always been a fantasy of William's to act like this, but a comment from a few of his teammates during the Sweden trip had sparked some ideas in him.

“Det är nästan som att hon är Ana till din Christian Grey,” (It’s almost like she’s the Ana to your Christian Grey) Calle had teased, after the lads had been talking about how much sex you’d been having ever since you’d admitted your lack of experience.

“Du har verkligen visat henne världen – och nu testar hon vattnet – hon är en kinky en, Willy, du kan verkligen ha kul med henne,” (You’ve really shown her the world – and now she’s testing the waters – she’s a kinky one, Willy, you could really have some fun with her) Lagesson had added with a mischievous grin, prompting William to consider what other limits he could push with you.

"You’re being a bad girl, baby," William spoke with a dark, husky voice, whispering into your ear and causing a shiver to run down your spine. However, you were more intrigued by the fact that you had finally stirred his attention.

"I don’t know what you mean," you innocently spoke, still looking at the screen as you 'ignored' his accusations. "I’m just getting comfortable."

As you gently wiggled your ass a little more, ensuring his cock twitched just enough to tease, a deep grunt escaped from the man behind you. And the satisfied smirk formed on your lips, swiftly removed as William had evidently reached his limit.

"Mmm. I think I need to teach you a little lesson on how we do things here," his voice was rough, and without saying anything else, William rose from his position, hoisted you with his strong arms, and tossed you over his shoulder before carrying you to the bedroom. You had to contain a small giggle, knowing it would only encourage him further. Yet, you were also tempted to play with fire.

As he put you down, you offered him a small smile, one that he didn't return. Which could only mean one thing for you – you were about to be punished.

William wasn't particularly rough – perhaps a mild version of Christian Grey – but he certainly had a dominant side. Much like the first time you had had sex when he had spanked you a few times. It had been an unfamiliar mix of pain and pleasure, something you had been slightly intrigued to explore a little more ever since.

And tonight, he let his inner dominant side take charge. As you stood before him, he issued his first command.

"Strip for me," he spoke with a soft smirk formed on his lips. So, you stripped down to your dainty knickers, earning a cocked brow as William sat on the edge of the bed. "Completely, älskling."

And with a gentle nod, you did as told.

"I knew you could be a good girl… come here."

However, just as you thought you were going to straddle your boyfriend and have the opportunity to ride him, he shifted you and pulled you to bend you over his knees with your ass in position for his right hand.

You suppressed a smile as William looked intensely at you, and you turned your head to meet his eyes.

“Why do you always have to be a fucking tease?” he asked with a dark chuckle, and you found yourself biting down on your lower lip before responding with an almost innocent smile.

“Because I can.”

Less than a second later, you felt William’s hand slamming across your ass cheek, earning a light moan from you as you closed your eyes and felt the sting on your skin.

“That’s right, baby…”

Then you felt the spank again.

“This is for being such a bad girl…”

And again. Every time, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan, feeling your core beginning to tingle, yet you craved something else entirely.

“Willy, I want to touch you,” you heard yourself softly speak after the fourth smack.

“Oh, you want to touch me? Alright, get up, babe,” he chuckled lightly, and again, you did as he said.

However, instead of giving you what you wished for, William leaned over to the nightstand, took out a pair of faux leather cuffs, and sat back in his position.

“Turn, älskling,” and with a quick eyeroll, you let him cuff your wrists together before he turned you back around and pulled you into his lap, one of his thick thighs between your legs for you to straddle. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Again, his light chuckle had a hint of darkness and dominant disapproval, to which you naturally had to offer him a light nod.

Your knees were on the bed, William's muscles flexing against your core, and your wrists were tied behind your back; it wasn't exactly an easy position. But William felt content with it, and as his eyes wandered your body, he gave you his next command.

"Ride me," he smirked, placing his lips onto the sensitive skin of your neck, wrapping a hand behind your head, intertwining fingers with your hair, and the other holding your hips in place.

Slowly, you began rocking your hips, grinding your sensitive core against his thigh. And you couldn't help but moan a little, letting yourself sink into the pleasurable feeling of rubbing your clit against the dry fabric of his sweats.

William sucked and bit your neck in between kisses, releasing his mouth to stare at you with an intense glare as you closed your eyes and increased your speed. His hand on your lower back guided your motions, and slowly you became more and more eager, grinding yourself more intensely against him in search of the impending orgasm.

"Oh yes, Willy," you panted lightly, feeling the knot in your lower tummy form, and a euphoric state slowly clouding your mind.

"Yeah, it feels good, baby?"

"So, good, Willy..."

He could almost feel how you were clenching your walls in mere desperation to reach your peak, again increasing your speed as your breaths became incoherent.

"Don't come, baby."

"What?"

"I said: don't come," William's voice was filled with content as he observed how desperate you were, almost crying as you had to slow down your movements to avoid reaching climax.

It was torture.

You let out a whimper as you opened your eyes again and met his intense gaze.

"Willy, please…"

And as your cry rang like music in his ears, he felt his own need for release as his cock had solidly stiffened in his sweats.

"Looks like you've made a bit of a mess, baby," William chuckled again, noticing the wet patch you'd created on his thigh. "Stand up."

Without hesitation, you rose again, staring at your boyfriend with a slightly open mouth as he stripped down to nothing as well, before gently undoing your wrists.

"You're such a good girl for me," he praised with a low voice, carefully rubbing his thumb over your lower lip as his eyes locked intensely with yours.

"Always," you simply replied, gently licking his thumb before he bent down and forcefully connected your mouths. His hands found your ass as he hoisted you into his grip and firmly took a few steps to press you against the wall.

Your tongues were hungry to taste each other, mixing saliva. And you couldn't help but feel your core clenching as you felt William's member hard against your inner thigh.

“Willy, please, in me,” you almost begged in between kisses, and this time, you got what you wished for.

William's length quickly found your entrance, easing in as your arousal had provided a good amount of juices. You couldn’t contain your moans as he stretched your walls, harmonising with him as he felt every inch of your warmth.

And swiftly, his hips found a steady rhythm, pounding in and out of you as William shifted between connecting his lips with yours and moaning into the crook of your neck.

It was heated and passionate. No game anymore as you were making love and both craving a release. His cock felt so good inside of you, filling you up and stretching your walls as his deep moans echoed in your ears like sweet sounds.

“You feel so fucking amazing, baby.”

Your hands were tightly gripping onto his hair, and you soon found yourself again getting closer to the edge.

“Please, I want to come,” you cried out as William thrust into you, bringing dangerously close to your orgasm of he denied you once more.

But this time he gave you, his approval. And as soon as he spoke the words, you let out a deep moan and surrendered to the intense orgasm.

And before short, William felt himself about to reach his own climax. The tightness around him pushed him closer, and as he continued to fuck you through your high, feeling your muscles clench around him, he too let go and reached his peak, spilling his seed into your warmth.

“Yes… Mmm…” he let out deep grunts, slowly pumping a few more times as he regained his breath, both calming down from the intense high of finally giving in to deep desires.

In comfortable silence, you both untangled from the heated moment, gently cleaning up before retiring to the bed where William, as always, made sure to give you proper aftercare.

“I hope I wasn’t too rough with you,” he offered you a slightly concerned smile as you rested beside him.

“Not at all, Willy,” you flashed him a soft chuckle. “But I’m glad you're still worried about it.”

“Of course, älskling, I only want you to feel good.”

“You always make me feel so good, baby,” you smiled before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

Despite the intensity of the games you occasionally played, both of you found them more intriguing than anything else.

Especially after the Sweden trip and that memorable night, it became an ongoing play. When William was on the road, every day felt like torture for him. He'd play exceptionally well, knowing you'd be watching back at home. And in the evening, you'd catch up during a video call, where mutual self-pleasure often followed. Teasing photos were exchanged daily, ensuring he had something to look at in case he felt the need for release. And you'd be ready to guide him through it over the phone while satisfying yourself.

However, despite the fun of teasing when apart, nothing compared to how William would take you when he got back. Nearly every surface of his condo had been in contact with either of your skin. Whether it was your body on the dining table, his ass print on the sofa, your back against the shower, or any other wall, you'd been there.

Yet what amazed you the most, was how your relationship had evolved into something more. After being introduced as his girlfriend, you both had made your relationship public, not just to players and families but also to the rest of the world.

In his ever-so-chill and discreet way, William had posted stories of you on his social media, and you'd done the same about him. It was all rather cute, nothing overly lovey-dovey as Auston had put it. You were officially together for the world to see, and it felt more than amazing.

The only challenge you faced next was, of course, William’s contract extension.

It had been underway for a while, and although you were aware of it from the beginning, you tried not to think too much about it. Perhaps it was because the fear that William might not stay in Toronto lingered in the background, and discussing it might make it all too real, bringing tears to your eyes.

Not that you showed it to William. He didn't exhibit any signs of concern or worry, so you attempted to match his calm energy and simply enjoy the present. Your relationship was profound, and you were willing to make the best of every moment.

Yet, as the negotiations approached their final days, impatience grew within you. And your best way to deal with it was to show your man how much you cared for him and supported whatever decision they'd reach, which often meant taking him down your throat. It was a skill you proudly possessed, and it brought you almost as much pleasure as it did for him.

And it was also very much on your mind during the family dinner.

Despite the overwhelming joy over William finalizing an 8-year extension in Toronto with a satisfactory salary, the thought lingered in your mind.

And amidst the Swedish chatting, cheers, delicious foods, and drinks, the idea of celebrating with William alone distracted you from keeping up with the mix of languages. Despite their best efforts to engage you in the conversation, you were more occupied with resting a hand on your boyfriend’s thigh, contemplating just how you were going to please him.

“Easy, baby,” William softly whispered in your ear as your hand had slowly travelled to cup his member through his baggy jeans. “Save it for later….”

You softly smiled to yourself, gently biting down on your lower lip as you let your hand slip back to just rest on his thigh again. And, before everyone wanted to rise from the table and go for an evening walk with the dogs, you couldn’t help but leave him with a small comment.

“Can’t wait to show you just how much of a good girl I can be for you.”

Your voice held nothing but seduction, and you knew that such a whisper in front of his family was way over the line. A line he had started crossing the night in Sweden, and you were simply playing along.

But your comment wasn’t left unattended as you noticed William’s flickering eyes and a smirk forming on his lips before he rose from his seat.

“Oh, you better be,” he merely whispered as they all began cleaning the table and left for a walk.

Fortunately, none of the family members stayed for long, needing rest due to jet lag, and soon you were back in the condo, slowly stripping each other as you shared deep, passionate kisses.

William's hands roamed your body as if he'd never explored it before, and you felt every inch of his skin you could reach. It was hungry, yet slow and intense as you lay on the bed, his fingers finding your core, stretching your walls while his tongue flicked and sucked your clit a few times.

He prepared you so well, making you feel incredible as your body trembled under his touch, feeling the intensity of a rush coursing through every cell and slowly clouding your mind.

He even brought you to orgasm just with his fingers and mouth, your fists clenching the bed sheets, letting your juices coat him as your mouth moaned his name over and over again.

William always took such good care of you, ensuring you came before he thought about his own needs. And tonight, he knew exactly how he wanted to finish.

And after your first orgasm, he then knelt, placed your ankles on his shoulders, and eased himself into your depths, feeling your walls tighten around him. He hovered over you, supporting himself on his arms, and had your knees come closer to your face before he pounded hard into you.

His skin slapped against yours as your uncontrollable moans filled the room, and he was touching the deepest parts inside you, making you squirm and cry out. It was intense as he kept hitting a very sensitive spot, overstimulating with every thrust, and it didn't take long before you let a second orgasm take over, screaming out curse words that clearly signalled your climax.

You were on cloud nine, your legs shaking when William released them from this position, and it took a moment to find air again before you could open your eyes and look at him with a satisfied smile.

Naturally, he returned it, confident and proud of his work as always, turning you into a piece of art of a mess again.

But tonight was not about you. It was about him.

And though William loved nothing more than to fuck you into oblivion, he did have something else in store for you.

"On your knees."

His voice was dark and husky as his fingers threaded through your hair, guiding you onto the floor. You obeyed without protest. His dominant side was showing again, and you felt a mix of excitement and shock as his eyes had turned darker after your passionate lovemaking.

You knelt before him, your eyes intensely looking up at his large figure, shifting between his face and his throbbing cock, hard and eager for release. You trembled as he approached, kneeling before you, his lips pressing against yours, and his tongue exploring your mouth.

You couldn't help but moan in response, your hands desperately seeking him. But swiftly, he withdrew, leaving you in need of more than just a heated kiss.

Then standing before you, William looked at you with a confident, smug expression. You were down on your knees for him, ready to please and bring him to climax after he'd been good to you. And as he took a step forward, aligning his hard member with your slightly parted lips, he looked down at you with deep desire in his eyes.

"Open up."

No more words were needed before you eagerly moistened your lips with your tongue and opened wide enough for you to take his length into your warm mouth.

William couldn't contain a deep moan as you took him in, letting your saliva cover his shaft as you tasted yourself. You used a hand to stroke the part your mouth couldn't reach, pushing yourself to take him in fully. And as the sensitive tip hit the very back of your throat, your nose struggled to control your breathing.

"Shit, yes, baby… so fucking good…"

William's dark grunts echoed through the bedroom, and you could taste his salty precum as he closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and slowly began rocking his hips. You felt his muscles tense and his grip on the back of your head tighten, and so you decided to make him see the stars he deserved. Taking in a deep breath through your nostrils, you did your best to relax your throat and took him all in, your nose meeting the skin above his cock as you felt your lower lip touch the top of his balls.

“Oh fuck…!” his moan came out in surprise as he looked down at you with wide eyes, gagging on his thick cock as you forced yourself to keep in him, tears polling in the corner of your eyes, before you gently pulled back to breath. You could tell that he had not expected that, and being a little proud on yourself, you then turned to his balls, took one in your mouth, sucked it a little as you gave his length a few strokes before giving the other ball the same attention. “Y/n/n… fu.. shi..”

Saying William was speechless was an understatement, as you let your mouth to work every bit of tender skin he had to offer. Licking up his shaft again before you took the tip in your mouth again, circling with your tongue before once again down him entirely. Moaning around his cock you felt him twitch under your touch, and you knew he was getting closer to his climax. His moans and breaths seemed uncontrolled, his hand keeping your head in place as his hips began thrusting against you, and you had to hold your hands on his hips to keep him from choking you.

“Baby, I’m gonna come…”

William felt his climax about to peak, and then pulling you away from his cock, he looked down at you with a satisfied smirk.

You were there on your knees between his leg, with your mouth open. Ready to be fed. Your eyes looked up at him with hunger, as you watched as he stroked himself. Slowly. Intently. His veins were engorged, and he build and build until he was ready to climax.

“Stick your tongue out for me.” And you did a told. “Mmm that’s a good girl.”

With a deep grunt, he then stuck his cock in your mouth again, and unloaded onto your palate. His sticky cum coated your tongue and painted the inside of your mouth white.

And just before you could do anything, he spoke again.

“Hold it. Do not swallow until I say so….”

He released his member from your warm mouth, and you had to keep control of yourself as you held his cum in your mouth, looking up at him as he gently stroked your hair. “Oh fuck… you have no idea how pretty you look…”

You had to focus your gaze on him, letting yourself enjoy the sweet and salty taste of him. Your eyes batting as you awaited his final command.

William enjoyed the image of you before him more than he’d expected. You were so fucking gorgeous, and you were his. Letting his thumb gently rub over your lips as he was calming down from his high, he then gave you your last treat.

“You can swallow now, baby.”

And so, you did.

You let his cum glide down your sore throat before gasping for air. William always tasted so good. Like you couldn’t get enough of him; you could eat him like candy, send him to pleasure as you challenged your own abilities.

And as always, being the gentleman he was, William helped you rise from the floor, pulling you in for a tender embrace, and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

You couldn’t contain a smile as you gazed up at him, your arms finding his neck as you enjoyed the warmth from his body.

“Congratulations on the contract, Willy,” you spoke softly, gently playing with the locks of his hair.

And returning your smile, William let out a light chuckle. “Thanks, babe… you were fucking incredible.”

“I know,” you replied with a wide grin. “I just love pleasing you like that.”

“Mmm… can’t really complain, now can I…”

“Hmm, no, I don’t think you can.”

As rough and dominant as William could be, he also showed a caring and soft side. And after cleaning you both up in the bathroom, he prepared for bed and let you cuddle in his arms as you again locked eyes in a comfortable silence, before he broke it.

“Move in with me…”

His words came as a complete surprise.

“What?”

“Move in with me,” he repeated with a light chuckle, his voice suggesting it was the most obvious thing to do. And you couldn’t control how your eyes darted from side to side as you stared into his.

“Willy, are you sure? Or are you just trying to be nice?”

But the question wasn’t all that sudden to William. For a while now, he had been thinking about it, mostly because you spent so much time at his place anyway. It would just make sense that you didn’t have another place. Besides, you always took care of his dogs when he was on the road, so you might as well just live there. To him, it seemed so simple.

“Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t ask.”

His calm demeanour could still take you by surprise, and as you let out a light sigh and a chuckle, you just looked at his wonderful blue eyes.

“Alright, let me think about it.”

#18+#Inexperienced!reader x Willy #william nylander imagine #nhl smut #wn88 imagine #william nylander smut #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #SlutsforPresidentNylander

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thefreakandthehair · 1 year

Text

eddie is very emotionally attached to his hair. he loves the look, obviously, but also loves using it as a shield. he plays with it when he needs to fidget, he pulls pieces in front of his face when he’s flustered or nervous, he sweeps it over his shoulders to hide his face from time to time. it’s a built-in barrier and ever since he’d grown it out at around 15, he’d sworn to never go back. eddie’s hair make him feel safe.

that is, until he wakes up in the hospital post-upside down to find it cut short. too short-- can’t-twirl-or-play-with-it short. once the shock and relief of oh fuck, I’m alive, thanks steve, wears off, he laments the loss.

"steve, it took me years to grow it out. I’ll be 25 by the time it’s back where it was!" he admits during a rare moment when it's just the two of them in his hospital room. the machines beep evenly and steve sighs from his position in the hard, wood-backed chair next to the bed.

"man, I get it. my nickname was the goddamn hair for awhile, so I know it's a part of you but it'll grow back, right? and--"

"yeah yeah, I know it will, that's not the problem. it’s— ugh, forget it.” eddie instinctively reaches to pull his hair over his left shoulder to hide his face and is reminded of what the problem really is. he feels exposed and seen in a way that he can’t control and it makes his skin crawl-- particularly that it's steve harrington he feels so seen by, and he frankly has too many other crises going on to unpack that at the moment.

steve, for all of the ‘dumb jock’ jokes tossed his way, is perceptive. you don't survive high school in hawkins and four end-of-the-worlds without a dash of social intelligence, after all. so when he sees eddie reach for his hair like a phantom limb, he starts putting puzzle pieces together.

"why don't you want people to see you?"

eddie freezes with his hands falling to his chest, the IV in one hand pulling a bit at his skin. "that's not... I don't ... nothing, it's nothing." he sputters, unsure how steve has gotten such a fucking read on him.

"hey, I mean, I get it. kind of, at least? after the last few fights knocked my brain around, I've gotten some gnarly scars and bruises and I uh, I don't really swim or go around shirtless anymore because of it. I know that's probably not exactly the same but... yeah. I can understand. want me to get you a wig?"

steve watches as eddie slowly turns to look at him, and more importantly, to let steve look at him and his hesitant smile with furrowed eyebrows.

"why are you telling me all this?" eddie wants to think it's more than steve being steve, more than him just looking out, that it's personal. that maybe he likes eddie. hell, there must've been a reason he and wayne were the only two in the room when he woke up. and it clearly hadn't been the first time, given how close steve and wayne seem to be now. he'd pretended to be annoyed about their banter over the chicago cubs but really? it gave eddie a glimpse of something he wanted so badly, it made him ache. but that couldn't be it.

eddie's heart monitor beeps a little faster when steve reaches out to place a hand on top of his. steve looks up at the screen and back down to their hands with a small, hopeful smile.

"you're one of us now." steve shrugs and replies simply, as if that answers any of eddie's burning questions. he doesn't want to overwhelm him, but Steve can't help some good-natured Harrington flirting. "and it'd be a real shame for you to keep hiding that blush."

there's something here, steve thinks, a reason he wants eddie to let him look, to let him see, to keep making him blush from his neck to his nose. he'll give it time though. after all, the danger is gone-- they're here, and alive, and the world is safe, and they've got nothing but time to watch eddie's curls grow back.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #this is a projection because my hair is waist-length and i will never cut it short #for these reasons #oops sorry eddie i gave you a new personality trait #myfic #this is not edited #i just wanted something soft and cute after writing a rough chapter of over the hills and far away lmao #myblurbs

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scoops-aboy86 · 2 months

Text

The aftermath. I'm not sure how many more parts to this story there will be, but at least a couple.

Anyway, Eddie Munson lives, baby!

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 of the love spell no go au

Scrying isn’t something Eddie has delved into much but he knows a scrying plane when he sees one. The shallow water beneath his feet ripples out with every step, echoing out into infinity. He can hear hundreds of thousands of voices whispering just on the edge of hearing, too quiet to make out, and pinches the inside of his wrist to see if this is a bad dream he can simply wake up from.

… Nope.

There’s nothing to see and nowhere to go, but he tries. He picks a direction and walks for a long time.

A very long time. Until—

“Eddie?”

He whips around, and a girl who may or may not have been there a minute ago regards him with big, tired eyes. Younger than him. Shaved head.

“That’s me,” he replies warily. “Are you… the party’s Supergirl?” Dustin had said something about her losing her powers, but she must have found them again to be here.

She smiles a little at that, a small but genuine thing. “I’m Eleven. You can call me El, or Jane.”

“El-or-Jane it is,” Eddie replies with a bow, and that one earns him a laugh.

“You are funny,” she tells him. “I’m glad my friends in Hawkins had you to help them.”

When Eddie goes to protest that she has it backwards, they’d helped him, El informs him that his ripcord spell had killed Vecna. She’d been in his mindscape when the others’ attack on the dark wizard had begun, the red hell dissolving around her, putting her out of range while Eddie was casting. But Vecna, through his hive mind connection with the bats, had been front and center, and it had zapped him like a bug flying into a light bulb. Enough for whatever power had kept him alive through the ravages of interdimensional travel and decay and being set on fire to be snuffed out.

El had hurt him, and his physical body had died of the burns from Robin and Steve’s Molotovs and bullets from Nancy’s sawed-off, but it was Eddie who struck the final blow. Otherwise, Vecna might have crashed through that window onto the front yard below and still gotten up again to slink off, lick his wounds, and continue his assault on the Right Side Up.

“I think we use our powers very differently,” El tells him thoughtfully, and isn’t that just the understatement of the goddamn year. “I don’t understand what you did, or how, but… thank you.”

Eddie is uncomfortable being thanked, when all he did was run and then pin all his hopes on one last-ditch effort. He jams his hands deep in his pockets and rocks back on his heels, sending out more ripples to nowhere. “Yeah, well… It’s been a hell of a week, all I want to do now is get some fucking sleep.”

El looks perplexed by this, then firm as she shakes her head and holds out her hand. “You have been asleep for long enough. I promised Steve I would bring you back.”

And, okay. Eddie isn’t really one for taking the hands of strange children (he’s in his twenties now, fifteen-ish is a child, shut up) and letting them lead him around, but he thinks he’d do just about anything for Steve.

Seeing Eddie’s eyes flutter open sends a shock of electricity through Steve. He barely remembers to give El the tissue waiting in his hand before swooping in to scoop up one of Eddie’s with both of his, enveloping pale fingers while careful not to jostle the iv line connected to his wrist. “Eds? Eddie? You with us, man?”

And when those eyes settle on him immediately upon focusing, like Eddie had already known where to find him, Steve feels that zing again only stronger.

“Mm,” Eddie croaks in agreement.

Robin is at Steve’s elbow, already handing him the bowl of ice chips (all Eddie is allowed right now) so he can spoon a few pieces in through chapped lips.

“Eddie,” Dustin says tearfully, and Mike and Will have to immediately restrain him from tackling the guy who just came out of a fucking coma in a relieved hug.

Steve holds Eddie’s hand again while he sucks on the ice and Nancy goes to let hospital staff know that he’s awake.

It’s a few more days until Eddie can stay awake long enough to really talk, and a few more after that before he starts remembering the answers to the questions he keeps asking.

“Is Dustin okay?”

Broken leg, but it’ll heal.

“What about Max?”

Two broken legs and two broken arms, but she’s already been discharged in casts and a wheelchair. She’s staying with the Sinclairs so she isn’t home alone while her mom’s at work.

“Did we win?”

Vecna’s dead, the three gates closed, and the Upside Down sealed away for good. Plus, they didn’t lose anyone this time; Hopper is even back from the dead. So yeah, it’s a win.

“Do people still want to kill me?”

Jason Carver had been arrested for assaulting Lucas, which had lost him a lot of standing with the town. (Not all of it though, so not nearly enough as far as Steve is concerned.) He’s now the lead suspect for the attempt on Max’s life, and it turns out that his only solid alibi for Chrissy and Fred’s murders had been Patrick. Eddie is still known as the local freak, but he’s at least no longer wanted for multiple murders.

“Where’s Wayne?”

Sometimes Mr. Munson is there to take this one, but most times, like today, Steve has had to explain that he’s working a shift at the plant. But he knows that Eddie’s alive and innocent and going to be okay, and he’s already planning to visit again as soon as he clocks out.

“It’s really over?”

Steve answers all of these, like he has before, and holds Eddie’s hand while he processes everything all over again like it’s the first time. It’s not Eddie’s fault; they’ve had him on a lot of pain meds.

“… I’ve asked this before, haven’t I?”

That’s new. Steve nods, then closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. And lets it out, finally. “I am so goddamn mad at you. I told you not to be a hero. What the fuck about that did you not understand? And then you went and nearly died.”

The look Eddie gives him is the clearest it’s been all week, sad and unsettlingly resigned. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You’re—” Steve stops, presses his lips into a thin line, pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Sorry? That’s it?”

Eddie looks down at their still-joined hands like he doesn’t understand why Steve still wants to touch him. He feels so fragile and washed out against the white of the hospital bed and the pale hospital gown, a nasal cannula holding back his limp and unwashed curls where it hooks over his ears. “What do you want me to say?”

“That you’ll never do it again,” Steve replies, the words immediate and hot on his tongue. “Shouldn’t be too hard, it’s not like there are any more dark wizards or demon bats to chew half your skin off.”

He almost feels bad at how Eddie’s big eyes seem to get bigger, and definitely wetter at the corners. But he’s got his own bites, itching like crazy as they heal beneath the bandages hidden by his polo, and he’s been sitting in this hospital chair for what feels like forever while Eddie was in his coma. His back twinges when he moves, and he hasn’t been sleeping well, not even when Robin stays over. Everything feels uncomfortable and stressful and this idiot almost died and he can’t, absolutely cannot go through it again. Ever.

“Steve, I… I won’t, I just… I was stupid and forgot about the vents. I wasn’t trying to be a hero, I just wanted to fix what I fucked up.”

“Well you are,” Steve manages to say, despite his throat feeling increasingly tight and his own eyes starting to feel hot. He wipes at them roughly. “A fucking hero, I mean. You ended it. Butthead,” he adds, giving Eddie’s hand a tight squeeze.

That is what makes Eddie’s eyes spill over with a wet little sound sneaking out between his lips. “It was the ripcord spell. I ended everything. So… you’re mad, I get it, and if you don’t want to be friends anymore—”

“Of course I don’t want to be friends,” Steve interrupts. “I want to date you, you idiot. I told you that already.”

“But the love spell—”

“Fuck the love spell. Maybe it made me fall in love with you one time, but I fall for you all over again every time I see you, Eds. So when you’re healed up enough, I’m going to put you in a wheelchair and push you to the hospital cafeteria so we can have our first official date over the shittiest food in the known universe, and the only thing that’ll stop me in said universe is if you don’t want to.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment, a wonderful hope going from spark to steady glow in his expression. “Are you going to let me finish a sentence on this date?”

Steve smirks, but behind the mask of confidence he has the same wonderful relief welling up in his chest and he’s not actually sure he’s hiding it well. “Play your cards right, and sure.”

He’s never seen a brighter smile than the one Eddie aims at him. And yeah, Eddie is frail and scarred and still connected to a worrying amount of beeping hospital equipment, but he’s also just beautiful. “Then I accept, big boy. It’s a date.”

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth

Part 10, part 11

#scoops words #love spell no go au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson lives #wg steddie

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