Tumgik
#i was gonna move past it. i was gonna reach out and chip in to make our voices heard because i really want us to be united
courtingchaos · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
The Boy is Mine (Meg’s Version)
Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
For @carolmunson little prompt game/request/event/whathaveyou. Day week late and a dollar short as usual but I just can’t bust them out like I used to (ha ha ha). Event rules here. This is short and sweet because I’m not allowed to be precious about my writing anymore. It creates the anxiety in me.
Warnings: Weed smoking, drinking, tattooing (inebriated and unschooled), allusions to sex.
Word Count: 1.6k
A day spent rotting away in the dark recesses of his room. No Wayne, away on a hunting trip with his VFW buddies, and no work. Two days to yourselves with one reserved for outdoor activities and today set aside to spend the better part of the day in bed. The rain is what woke you up first, unexpected, the hard and sudden pattern beaten into the corrugated metal jolting you from your cocoon of worn soft sheets. The scratch of a record and the piney smoke of Rick’s good weed pulling you from the bed and into your discarded clothes.
You catch sight of Eddie moving around the kitchen in just his boxers, joint tucked neatly into the corner of his mouth that mutters along with Zeppelin.
“Just gonna abandon me like that?” You ask behind him, your hand stuck in the sleeve of your t-shirt. He turns before you can get it unstuck and he gets an eye full of your chest while you unintentionally flash him, his grin widening.
“Well good evening to me.” He leans against the counter where you can see two pizza boxes that weren’t there earlier and you try to reach past him but he snatches your hand in his and pulls you in for an embrace. Half hug, half struggle on your end while you try for the pizza. “Would you just hug me?” His laugh is low and scratchy from sleep and smoke, smoke that rolls from his mouth off his words. You just purse your lips at him until he gives in and places the damp paper between your pout with a sigh. “You just want me for my weed and my body huh?”
“Oh don’t be like that, you know that isn’t true!” You snag a slice and slip out of his grip with a grin and his joint to toss yourself on the couch. “I also want you for your mixtapes and the rides to work.”
Eddie watches you from under the cabinets with glassy eyes, a smirk playing on his lips while you shove half the slice in your mouth and rest the joint in the ashtray beside you. The tv plays the local news on almost mute while he moves around the kitchen again, cups clinking and fridge door shutting before he joins you on the couch in drape over your hip. A chipped high ball glass gets nudged in front of you on the side table before the cheap bottle of wine you brought over hovers in front of your face with the strain of his stretch.
“I ran out of nice cups your highness, I hope this is okay.” The liquid almost sloshes out onto the veneered table top but Eddie catches the slip of his fingers, neck of the bottle clutched tight in his fist so he can pour his own glass before setting the bottle down on the floor.
“No Garfield mug?”
“That stays on the wall now, I’m afraid.” With a sigh he nudges down to wedge behind you and prop himself up on an elbow, long arm reaching over to steal his weed back. “After Wayne found it on the floor that last time.” A pointed look at the back of your head that you can feel without seeing.
“I apologized for that.”
“I know, but he’s a stickler for his mugs my dear.” He runs a flat palm under your shirt and up your back, blunt nails scratching lightly on their way down. Over your shoulder he watches the news with you, half paying attention while he intermittently switches between rubbing your back and holding the joint over for you to pull off of. By the time the high school scores are being discussed you’ve hit a gentle high that relaxes you back into his chest, almost empty glass of wine cradled to your own. In the back of your thoughts you remember one of your weekend plans and try to remember if you brought your sketchbook with you.
Lips pressed to your temple Eddie whispers into your hair when he notices the crease in your brow. “What’s up?”
“Thinking.”
“I can tell.” A small nip at the high point of your cheek that makes you giggle. “Something wrong?”
“No, I just was thinking about that stick and poke idea.”
“Oh!” Suddenly his voice is bright and he sits up to look down at you. “You wanna do that?”
Before you can answer him he’s crawling over you, avoiding kicking over the empty bottle of wine on his way off the couch and back down to his room. A moment later he scurries back out with a big smile and a small tin box that rattles in is hands when he holds it out to you to take.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“What’s your plan? What are you gonna put on me permanently?” He taps his feet against the carpet and you give him a once over, his small smattering of tattoos moving with him as he wiggles around anxiously. The glassy look that you know mirrors your own gives you half a minute of pause before you get up to find your bag and root around for the small notebook you usually take with you.
Eddie had watched over your shoulder one afternoon while you had doodled mindlessly and had suddenly pushed his finger into your pencil lines with a gasp.
“That one.”
“What about it?” You laugh at him when he invades your space.
“I want that on my leg.”
“A tattoo?”
“Yeah! We can bring it in and see if they can do it justice or,” he gives you a quick peck on the forehead, “You could always do it.”
Flipping to the page with the simple heart and dagger you show it to him with a raised eyebrow. “You still want this one?”
He gives it a glance before looking at you with an easy grin. “Unless you have something else in mind.”
A shake of your head before you grab one of the kitchenette chairs for him to sit in. He snags the remote and looks for anything on tv while you search for a clean glass and paper towels. When you come back to him he’s already pulled the coffee table over and left the box open, one of the throw pillows tossed on the floor between his feet for you to sit on.
“Get a little peckish out there?” He nods at your hands full of supplies, the tub of vanilla frosting hidden behind the glass of water.
“No, this is for you so you don’t get fidgety.” You drop it in his lap with a spoon and he rips into it before you can sit fully, the giggles between you two quiet and infectious. It’s quiet work while you find the perfect spot on his thigh for the simple drawing and use the makeshift safety-pin-turned-needle to gently draw out the shape with the India ink.
“You sure you shouldn’t make it a little bigger?” Eddie asks around a glob of frosting. He’s not demanding, anything but, however he gazes down at you with such an easy countenance you can’t find the right words to argue with him.
“Do you want it bigger?”
His head tilts while he admires your work, a low hum from the back of his throat while he thinks it over. “Just a skosh.”
He shares his frosting with you like he did his joint, holding the spoon down for you to eat off while you start over and finish, presenting his thigh to him with a flourish.
“Perfect.”
“Okay, now hold still. I don’t want to hurt you.” You dip the tip of the pin into the ink and look up at him watching you. He’s still firmly in the giddy part of his high and he can’t help but smirk at you. “But what if I like that?”
All you can do is roll your eyes at him before you set to your work. Steady pokes against his pale thigh that follow along your faint sketch, the heart a simple curve you can get lost in while Eddie watches you with rapt attention.
“I like watching you work.” He says lowly, frosting forgotten in his hand. You only answer him with a smile while you get more ink on the pin and start working on the point of the dagger, his hiss the only sign of his discomfort. Behind you the TV is just noise that neither of you pay attention to, a little bubble of contentment engulfing the two of you.
“You push your jaw forward when you concentrate.” He whispers while holding out a bite of frosting for you to take. “It’s cute.”
Your breath breezes over his sore thigh, a cool break from the mounting burn of his new tattoo. Finally you look up from your work to lick the spoon and you have to laugh at his groan.
“Pervert.” You tease while scooting in closer to him.
“How else would you want me? Decent?” He scoffs.
You sit up to admire your work, checking for any missed spots. “Never.” Your lines aren’t perfect but it’s yours and it’s on Eddie and he let you put it on him. In his skin. There’s a weird weighty feeling in your chest and before you can stop yourself you drop a kiss on the inside of his thigh, just under the new ink.
His hair curtains around you when he leans down to mimic you with a soft kiss to the back of your head. “If you aren’t careful,” He mutters against you, his smile evident, “we’re gonna have a problem maybe.” He teases you with fingers that brush against your hairline.
“I don’t know if I’d call it a problem, wasn’t that kind of the point of this weekend?”
“You’re absolutely right.” He lets you lean back into him as he sits up, frosting forgotten when your head finds its place in the crook of his hip, your handiwork just out of view.
201 notes · View notes
luvyeni · 23 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
p. bsf!sohee x fem!reader | warnings: voyeurism (?), blowjob, allusions to sex | words: 0.8k ~ (854) 💂‍♂️ㆍ₊⊹
request: sohee smut pleaseeee 🫶🏻?
authors note. here you go lovey🩵
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Tumblr media
living in the ages of various streaming services; you barely made it out to go the movies; opting to wait until it came on tv— avoiding spoilers on tiktok so you could peacefully watch it the comforts of your own home; you just really didn’t enjoy the inside movie theater— so imagine your surprise when your best friends basically kidnaped you to drag you to a random drive in movie theater.
“sohee are you serious?” you scoffed as you pulled into the almost empty theater, the other three cars probably containing couples who want to fuck or teens needing a place to get high— or both. “what?” he smiled. “i thought it would be fun.”
the teenager who probably wanted a job but didn’t want to do any work sat scrolling on his phone. “this place is like 100 years old, and i doubt that popcorn is any good.” you pointed. “don’t worry I got us covered.” he pointed to the back seat, a bag full of snacks and drinks. “just gotta tune the radio so we can hear the movie.” he said. “cheer up, it will be fun.”
you decided to give it a try and not be so pessimistic— grabbing a blanket to cover yourself, grabbing some chips and a beer. “you know, most people don’t come to these things.” sohee said; munching on some chips. “yeah.” you laugh. “as you can see these three cars here besides ours and that car has been rocking for the past 20 minutes and there’s smoke coming out that one.” you pointed it out. “and i think that one is abandoned.”
he look around pouting; he really wanted to try something new with you. “don’t be too upset, you know i don’t like these types of things, but this isn’t all that bad so i give you props.” you reached over, pinching his cheek. “good job.” he smiled, stuffing his face some more with his favorite trip.
a few more minutes past of watching the movie when you heard a loud moan. “oh my god.” you let out a snort. “told you.” you turned to your friend, who’s neck was now red. “aw is our little sohee getting excited hearing the couples have sex.” he scratched the back of his neck. “sh-shut up.” You laughed. “you are!” you exclaimed, he whined covering his face. “is that why you invited me out here to live out you voyeur fantasies, pervert.”
sohee felt himself chub up in his pants, your words along with the moaning was doing unimaginable things to him. “it is hot, isn’t it?” you said. “he seems to really be giving it to her.” you smirked, seeing his hand come up to cover his hard on. “y-yn.” you placed your hand on his knee. “please don’t.”
“you don’t want me to touch you?” you tilted your head teasingly. “the movie still has 30 minutes left, are you gonna sit there palming your cock to the couple fucking next to us or are you gonna let me suck you off?” he moved his hand, heavily breathing; he couldn’t believe his best friend was about to suck him off. “lift your hips up.”
he lifted his hips, letting you pull out his cock, his tip dark red, dripping with pre-cum. “shit, hearing them fuck made you this hard, you really are a little perv aren’t you?” he let out a loud whimper as your hand wrapping around his length. “its kind of pathetic.” You squeezed his cock. “oh fuck! please don’t do that.” he moaned out.
“why?” you pouted, leaning over;;kissing his tip. “you gonna cum just from me squeezing your cock.” you squeezed it again, gripped the arm of the chair. “really pathetic hee.”
you finally put the boy out his misery, putting his cock into your mouth. “fu-fuck.” he moaned. “yo-your mouth is.” he gasped, unable to speak barely as you bobbed your head, jerking off what you couldn’t speak. “oh fuck your so good.” his head was thrown back, his hand coming to your head softly, caressing it. “sh-shit.”
it was messy, the noises from your mouth as you gagged on his cock will fuel him with jerk off material for mouth. “fuck yn im gonna cum, please get of.” you pulled off of him, looking at him in the eyes, stroking his cock. “come on hee, look at me.” you purred, the boy forced himself to look at you. “good boy.”
“come on cum for me, want you to cum in my mouth.” you put your mouth on his tip, sucking as you stroked the rest of his cock. “shit im cumming.” His hand slapped against the window. “ngh fuck!” he shouted, his cum spurting from his cock, hitting your tongue. “shit.”
you let him finish, pull off of him, swallowing his sticky substance. “yo-you didn’t have to.” but you weren’t listening, taking off your shirt, climbing into his lap, feeling his cock twitch against your clothed cunt. “just pay me back.” you kissed him. “h-how.”
“theres still 20 minutes left, let’s see how many times your cock can make me cum.”
Tumblr media
©️LUVYENI
257 notes · View notes
ghostlywhiskey · 6 months
Note
i watched all of 9-1-1 and now all I can think of is firefighter price and the station is having a little bake sale or something for charity and single mom reader takes her kid to it and she meets price and it's all fluffy and flirty 😭😣 bonus points if its she's a bit younger than him.... that's all I can think of rn......
ahhh! i've been thinking about this ask since i got it - but i'm literally kicking my feet. when my brother was a volunteer firefighter i used to love the pancake breakfasts so i'm using that as inspo hehe
Tumblr media
eagerly pulling you in the direction of the firehouse, the 6-year-old held your hand tightly. despite the earlier hours of the morning, the summer sun starting to build the warmth on your skin. other families scattered in the parking lot as everyone made their way towards the fire station.
had it not been for the the flyer your son took from volunteer firefighters a few days prior outside the grocery store, you would have had no knowledge of the pancake breakfast to raise money for charity. but, you were sure the charity part isn't what drew your child towards the event. it was more so the pancakes and other activities such as face painting and getting to sit in the firetruck being the aspects that appealed to him. excitedly he had attempted to read the flyer to you as you pushed him around the grocery store in the cart. and by the time you were done food shopping, you had promised him that you would take him.
"do you think i'll be able to try on one of the jackets?" his voice projected from the backseat of the car as you drove.
"the jackets are quite heavy, sweetie. maybe they'll let you try on one of that hats." your eyes glance back at him in the rearview mirror. a smile formed on his face at your answer.
"i hope so. that would be so cool," was all he said before his eyes glanced out the window, brain running ramped with excitement.
besides, between the charity aspect and the excitement your son exuded for the first time since the two of you moved into town, it seemed like a good way for him to meet other kids before the school year started.
and now, the day had come that he wouldn't stop talking about for the past week. the money in his hand to give to one of the wives sat at a table collecting the donations for entry. reaching over the table, he handed her the money and in return, she put on the appropriate wristband for him and handed you one as well.
his hand grabbed yours, quickly heading for the row of tables that multiple firefighters stood behind, putting pancakes on the plates of individuals of various ages and anything else they wanted such as eggs, bacon, etc.
grabbing plates for both you and your son, you allowed him to guide you to one fireman who was the least busiest with people. and before the word 'hello' left your sons mouth, the first string of words were, "chocolate chip, please."
"elliot," your eyes widened, giving his hand a squeeze as a warning. "manners." your sons cheek reddened, clearly embarrassed.
the mans upper body vibrated from the chuckle that escaped his lips as he watched your horrified expression. "lad is just excited. don't worry about it, big sister." before you could correct him, elliot's voice cut you off.
"hello," his voice quieter in comparison to his louder demeanor. "two chocolate chip, please, sir." he carefully took the place from you and handed it to the fireman himself.
placing three chocolate chip pancakes on the plate, he handed it back to your son. "there ya go, i gave you an extra." the man smiled at your son which caused your son to give him a toothy smile back.
"thank you." elliot spoke, his voice back to his normal octave. "i'm gonna go sit." your son says, hurriedly heading to an empty table to eat his pancakes. you watched as he ran off, before the gruff voice pulled your attention.
"what will his sister be having?" the fireman asked, reaching to take your plate. now, you took the chance to correct him.
"i'm not his sister."
his eyes widened this time. "mum?"
nodding to confirm his questioning tone, you smiled and let him take the plate from you. "i had him young." you felt the need to explain yourself.
"well," he placed three pancakes on your plate as well, handing it back to you. "regardless when you had him," his hands move wipe them on his shirt, and that's when you notice the 'hello my name is' sticker on his shirt below the stations logo - price. "definitely the prettiest mum here." one of his hands reaching out to shake yours.
the compliment caught you by surprise, nearly causing you to drop the plate as you freed a hand to shake his back.
"john price." the introduction making your body surge with warmth as his hand held yours, the same way the sun outside had made you feel. except right now you were very much inside and shielded from the summer heat.
Tumblr media
also a little shoutout to @ohworm-writes who has a post on firefighter price which you can find here <3
387 notes · View notes
luvlyhyunjin · 2 months
Text
Carousel┃H.HJ SMAU
Thirty-Five - Flickers Of The Past I.
TW: mentions of disordered eating, diets, mental health issues and suicide.
wc: 8.3
playlist: dollhouse - melanie martinez / cardigan - taylor swift / until i found you - Stephen Sanchez
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Tumblr media
The first time you ever saw Hyunjin you were seven years old. It was amid a hot June summer; the scorching hot weather and unforgiving sun were unrelenting. Swearing to make the process of you and your family moving into a new neighborhood absolute hell. Not for you though, the only thing that was causing you discomfort is your long hair. Adding unnecessary layer to provide heat on your neck and causing beads of sweat to roll down it.
Your mom had muttered countless excuses to you. Something about how this time your dad is finally gonna make it. His business is gonna flourish and soon enough you’ll be rich. You didn’t really understand what does having money make any difference? You only wanted three things right now, your mom, dad and one of the cookies that your mom had placed on a plate on the table in front of you. A rumbling in your tummy only confirms your hunger.
“Stay still Y/N.” she warns, pulling slightly on your hair as you had inched forward without noticing. You nodded earning a tsk in return. You stilled, shoulders slumped and trying not squirm in discomfort. The thigh highs your mom forced you to wear cling to your thighs in sweat. Your mom continued brushing your hair, tying your hair in pigtail to start working on the left section of your hair.
“Can I have a cookie mommy?” you ask with a hiss when she finally tied the remaining hair in a pigtail, like the right one. Your mom stood up; her brown hair falls beautifully over her shoulders, resembles silk. She sighs, a line of annoyance between her brows “it’s not time for your snacks yet Y/N.”
“But mommy I’m hungry” your small palm clutched the end of her red dress, a pout that would be described as adorable to anyone else but to your mom it was an eyesore. It was what she always said.
“Don’t be an eyesore Y/N. I don’t care if you’re hungry you need to wait.” She scolded with a stern voice and a glare you were too used to in her eyes. And just like that your small heart crumbles, breaking into pieces right at her feet. She turned away with a huff, her black heels stepping all over your broken heart. Breaking it into smaller pieces just to make sure that you won’t be able to pick it up.
You didn’t cry, despite the lingering heaviness in your heart. You told yourself it didn’t matter; your mom was probably just stressed. She always is whenever you guys moved and with this being the third time already in a year. She was probably overwhelmed. You adjusted the overall strap of your dress that had fallen to lie beside your elbow. An ache in your knees as you stood up. Your big eyes had stayed on the narrow corridor leading to your parent’s room.
You counted to ten and when there was no sign of your mom coming out, your small hand reached for one of the cookies in a hurry. Panic has your heart picking up its pace, a fear clinging to the tips of your fingers. Your other hand clutching the ear of your stuffed bunny, your small feet scrambling in hurry towards the door leaving a trail of cookie crumbs on the floor. The sound of the front door closing echoes in your empty house. Reminding your little mind that this isn’t home it’s nothing but another stop sign along the way.
Once you’re outside, you sit down on the steps of the front porch. Your stuffed bunny sitting by your leg as you chew away on your chocolate chip cookie. Humming in delight with a smile as you turn to watch the two boys playing soccer on your one of neighbor’s lawn. It wasn’t fun to watch simply because you did not understand a thing, did not understand if they were good or bad. Why was the girl cheering, on the ground with catlike eyes and a big smile. Was she cheering them both or one of them?
As if on instinct one of the boys had noticed you, leaving their game unattended to look at you. Locking eyes with you had you frozen in place, the cookie half way into your mouth. For an odd reason an uncomfortable feeling had travelled its way through your body, like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t have perhaps that’s why when the boy with midnight black hair, a mole under his right eye, waved at you with overflowing excitement, your face burned, and you turned away. Walking back to your house in hurrying manner. A strange feeling in your chest. You blamed it on the boy’s smile, it was as bright as the sun.
Three weeks exactly after that you saw him again. You were waiting at the bus stop, short legs swinging back and forth as you sat comfortably on the wooden bench. Your dark hair is tied into a high ponytail and away from your face. Your pink skirt and matching thigh highs were added cuteness to your already chubby cheeks or at least that’s what the lady next door had said to you. It had earned you two small cartons of strawberry milk. One that is between your hands and its straw in your mouth while the other is protected in your pink bunny backpack.
The sound of sniffles had your ears perked up; attention stole. Looking to where they were coming from you saw a small boy, almost the same size as you, curled up on the sidewalk. Head in his hands. You eyed him curiously, a bit surprised by the number of adults passing by and not sparing him a glance. You weren’t really a brave kid, always more on the shy side, refusing to talk to strangers and clinging to your mother’s leg during social events. So, what you did next was definitely out of character for you.
Jumping down the bench, you threw your now empty carton of milk into a nearby trashcan. A hop in your step, the sun warming the coldness in your palms as you settled right beside him. Shoulders brushing and with your presence he looked up, eyes red and tear streaks over his pretty mole. You were surprised, didn’t expect it to be the boy from your neighborhood.
“Why are you crying?” you had asked, head tilting in spirit of inquiry. The boy eyes sharpen, a childish glint in them as he crossed his arms over his chest “I’m not crying!” he defended weakly, bottom lip trembling “mom said big boys like me never cry!” as if mocking him a tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another just to break down the act he worked so hard on putting on.
Your chest had tightened painfully in sympathy, an emotion you still didn’t know what to call.
“But it’s okay to cry when you’re sad doesn’t matter if you’re big or small.” The words came to your small brain like common sense, colored in innocence. He shook his head stubbornly, despite the sniffles escaping his mouth. Your own lips have formed into a pout, searching your brain for a way to make his sadness disappear.
“What happened?” you finally asked after a while, a black cat taking its place next to your leg. You scratched behind its ear with a smile and Hyunjin watched you with tear clouded vision.
“I-I think my dad is sick.” He muttered between sniffles; you furrowed your brows “tell him to take some medicine. Mommy always gives me that when I’m sick. It tastes awful but it makes me feel better.”
“I told my mom that too.” Hyunjin replies, his own hand reaching over your lap to scratch at the cat’s ears. It starts purring, eyes closed in bliss “but she says he’s sick in here.” He explains by pointing to his head with his index finger and a pout on his pink lips. You grow even more confused haven’t heard of people being sick in the head, but you keep quiet. Nodding in faux understanding as you tell yourself you should read about it later. A short silence settles between you two when the cat jumps into Hyunjin’s lap and curls on itself.
Hyunjin chuckles, the only evidence of his sadness is the lines of tears drying on his cheeks “she likes me!” Hyunjin mumbles cheerfully as he turns to you with a big smile, the same one you saw three weeks ago and that was as warm as the sun. You smile back at him “yeah.”
At the end of the street, you notice your familiar school bus making its way towards the stop “I have to go now.” You announce standing up and adjusting the straps of your backpack. Hyunjin pays you no mind, nodding slightly as he is too immersed in his excitement about petting the cat on his lap. You loiter, staring at the boy before unzipping your pink backpack and taking out the strawberry milk you were planning on drinking later.
“Take this.” You said, outstretching your hand to him with the carton. Hyunjin looked up, eyes widening slightly in surprise “I don’t like strawberry milk.”
“But why? It tastes good and it helps me when I’m feeling down.”
“Really?”
“Yes! I was feeling down this morning but now I’m so much better!” you boosted, an enthusiasm in your voice that had him growing slightly excited as well. He took it, a pink coloring his cheeks as this has been the first time he had ever taken anything from a girl aside from Yeji “Okay!”
“Later sad boy!” you waved with a big smile, his own words of protest left unsaid when you turned around and ran towards the bus stop.
After that day you never saw Hyunjin, not around the bus stop and nowhere around the neighborhood. You heard your mom and the women next door talk about how the Hwang’s moved away because her husband has passed away. It didn’t make much sense to you back then, but you only remember realizing that you never asked for his name, and he never asked for yours.   
You don’t see Hyunjin again until you’re sixteen. It’s another wheel of destiny that spins you around just to throw you in the same spot as him, for you guys to clash into one another. But back then, you hadn’t realized it yet. It was a similar cycle, an old record that had played repeatedly till you memorized all the tracks. You had just moved to a new neighborhood, a house bigger than your last one, a more modern version than the last one with marble floors and big glass windows, a slick black aesthetically pleasing kitchen. It all meant nothing to your mom though, not good enough because even though your dad was making a lot more money than last year. He wasn’t rich enough for his name to mean something. It’s evident in the way your mom grumbles all afternoon, brows knitted and a scowl permanent on her face. You ignore her, lazing around on the couch in the living room and counting the number of black dots decorating the ceiling.
The faint sound of music coming from the turned on tv aids you in keeping your mind off your reality.
“Y/N! come on it’s time for your meal!” she calls for you from the kitchen, voice sounding a bit far just to remind you of the bigger space of this house. You sigh, rolling off the couch and onto your feet, passing by the unopened boxes and through foyer the only seems to grow longer with every house. You make it to the kitchen to be greeted with the plate your mom had made specifically for you, a bunch of steamed vegetables. Broccoli, carrots, and peas.
A sour taste settles in your throat, the emptiness of your stomach nudges to ask for more and you contemplate it, fingers drumming on the kitchen island.
“Can I at least have protein?” you finally ask, voice weak and unsure and your body wavers in similar weakness when your mom turns to face you with a hateful glare. As if she’s offended “You had protein for breakfast that’s enough.” She spits with disgust dousing her tone, and you don’t need her to say more to know exactly what she’s thinking, it’s the way her eyes trail over your body with a wrinkled nose. As if she hates to look at you.
“But I’m hungry.” You try to argue, ignoring the goosebumps raising on your body due to her harsh eyes.
“Being a little hungry won’t kill you Y/N. Now eat your food and shut up. You’re giving me a headache.” She rubs her hand over his face and then through her hair, an act of stress and your anxiety renders you mute. But your mother never stops and that’s always been her downfall. A greed that’s never full and it’s the same way with her mouth, always spilling venom and leaving it behind for you to clean up.
“Just look at your body, always talking about how hungry you are no wonder none of the diets are working.” She’s talking to herself, you realize that. And it’s not something you haven’t heard before, so you don’t know why it triggered you that day. Maybe it was another card destiny had thrown on your unfortunate table.
“I don’t fucking care about my body” the words have divulged from your mouth without warning, spilling like vomit. It was the first time you cursed in front of your mom, the first time you argued this long for a while, but you don’t get to dwell on the thought, don’t get to reflect long enough when her palms come in contact with your right cheek in a burning slap.
It’s not the first time she has hit you, it happened a few times before, so you wonder why does is it more agonizing each time? Why do your eyes still fill with tears and why does betrayal seep into your eyes, into your shocked look at her. As if she was anything different than a snake who sank her teeth into you. But she looks at you as if you’re a criminal who had stabbed her right in the heart, feed on it and threw the rest to dogs.
“Go to your room no food for you today.” It was a punishment you knew was waiting for you down the line the longer you had talked. And the best way to deal with all this was to take it but instead you run away. An ocean of tears had clouded your vision and you had somehow ended up on the beach. Sniffling as you hugged your legs to your body.
Now that you think about it you know fate had played you, placed you in another position where you would have no choice but to run into him, you had no choice but to be cursed by him but that’s not how you felt when his ball hit you, it’s not what you felt when even more tears had streamed down your face because what else could go wrong?
Frustration had bubbled in your blood, blending itself with your sadness to form a puddle of overwhelmingly painful emotions that you had no choice but to lay in. It gets worse when Hyunjin had jogged your worry, his apology dies on his tongue when you make eye contact with him. Teary yet fiery eyes pierce his soul, and he was never the type to be left speechless. It comes to him like a flame blown out from a candle and the heat burns him.
At his name being called, he picks his ball and turns away. The face of the crying girl on the beach leaves him awake an hour longer at night.
The second time you see Hyunjin it’s in the halls of your school. It was early in the morning, the halls bustling with students rushing to their first class. You were by your locker, getting your biology book out and once you closed it shut the last thing you expected to see that morning is the face of none other than Hyunjin. Leaning on the locker next to you with a tight smile on his face
 “Hi.” He says and somehow his voice is nothing like you expected, it ends up being on the sweeter side, pleasant to hear.
“Hey?” you reply with an edge of confusion in your tone, clear enough that it makes him nervous. Pushing a hand through his already pushed back black hair “I’m Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin.” You nod signaling for him to continue, by now you already knew who Hyunjin was. It was impossible not to know him when his name was on everyone’s tongue. The talk about the endless impressive acts of his are a record you had to endure daily from every student you come across. From his outstanding dance skills at the dance club to his impressive plays on the field during soccer games. Getting the captain title was a piece of cake for him, a piece he hadn’t even planned on eating, but it ended up right on his plate by its own.
His silence stretches a minute or two too long as if he’s waiting for you to say something back, when you don’t, he clears his throat in attempt to regain his missing confidence “Uh- I hit you with my ball last week. At the beach? Remember?”
“I do,”
“Great! Uh I’m sorry about that.”
“it’s okay.” You assure with a smile in hope it will dissipate the awkwardness “how is your head by the way?” he trails bunglingly, fingers pointing to your head.
“I still have my memories so I’m probably fine” You reply with a soft smile. Amusement swims in your eyes at the way he acts, the way he won’t meet your eyes for longer than a second before they travel elsewhere. Randomly staring at a few lockers away.
Hyunjin’s blush colored lips twitch upwards in mimicking smile, a breath of a chuckle escapes him “that’s a relief.” He says, bouncing on the heels of his feet with his hands buried in the front pockets of his school uniform.
Another awkward silence settles between you two, he looks as if he has something more to say but the words won’t come out, you try not to rush him, try to wait for him to just spit out but when it stretches. You clear your throat to capture his wandering eyes, they lock with yours, widening as a nervous pink blush takes its place on his pale cheeks “Well I better head to class.”
“Yeah of course.” He nods. Taking a step to the side to move out of the way and with another faint smile of yours you go on your own way. Once you pass by him the smell of peaches and cream coats the inside of your nose and stays there far longer than you anticipated.
If you count the time, you’re sure it’s exactly sixty seconds and if you’re a little bit off then it won’t be more than eighty seconds before you feel his hand circle your wrist, halting your movement with a rushed out “wait!”
His palm is warm, yet his rings are cold as ice, and they leave you more buzzled when you turn to look at him with inquisitive eyes.
“Your name,” he sounds breathless, and you wonder why “you didn’t tell me your name.” the halls had started to empty, reminding you that you’re late to your first period already. The dying noise brings attention to the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and something else in the distance. If you focus hard enough you swear you could hear the chirping of birds as if they’re signaling the beginning of something you aren’t aware of yet.
If your life was a book this will be the chapter where everything changes and flips upside down, the chapter where you begin to see how large the real world is compared to this small bubble you thought was the world. And all what it’d take is a singular look at Hyunjin’s dark eyes. And if this was somehow a movie it would be the beginning of a fairytale like arc and a soft tune with overflowing lovestruck words would be playing right now. Swirling around and tempting you into a spell that tastes like nothing but pure gold and affection.
But this wasn’t a book nor a movie.
“Y/N” you say “Song Y/N.”
This was a game fate had started and choose you as the main player. The only problem was the rules were never explained and your purpose has yet to be found. Years later when you look back at your meeting you remember how Hyunjin never asked you about the fact that you were crying or the glaringly obvious red mark on your cheek.
You’re thankful.
The next time you see Hyunjin it’s in detention. Given his reputation you shouldn’t be surprised but given your reputation he is more than surprised when he notices you there. His bored and cold stare had transformed into a wide eyed one, eagerness filling his limbs into jumbled tapping of his foot on the floor. Grinding on his teeth as he chewed slowly on his mint flavored gum. Eyes pasted at you, you who was sitting a few seats way from him, you who was too immersed in whatever you were doing on your notebook to spare a glance in his way. Your dark hair falling over the side of your face like a barrier depriving him of stealing glances at your face. It left him withering away in disappointment he didn’t quite understand.
Truth, is you didn’t deserve to be here, well at least partly. Last night you stayed late, working on a brand-new idea you had for a jacket design. You were so focused on it and hadn’t realized the number of hours that had passed by. Once your neck had started aching from your position, fingers sore, you had finally looked at the clock placed next you, you were shocked to see it’s already 3 am. So, when you ended up dozing off the next day and falling asleep in chem class. You did not expect the punishment to be detention. You had argued with your teacher. It was a bad idea because it only resulted in a week worth of detention.
However, now that you’re here you realize it is not that bad. It was quiet, the other students dozing off along with the teacher that was assigned to watch you. It was an opportunity for you to finish your designs. Away from your mother’s nagging and your father’s freezing stare.
You feel it then, something hitting your shoulder to steal your attention from your drawing. You look down at the crumpled piece of paper by your shoes.
Hyunjin gauges your reaction, watches as you elegantly tuck your hair behind your ear. Brows furrowing in confusion as you bend down and pick up the paper. Pulling your pretty lips into an even prettier pout as you open the paper only to find it empty. Only to discern it was an attempt to capture an ounce of your attention. You’re surrounded in softness that has him drowning in jealousy, wishing he was a piece of paper just to be held by you.
He watches as your eyes scan the room, looking for a culprit to blame and then they’re landing on him. Bullseye.
Hyunjin plays his role way too well, leans in his chair with his soccer varsity jacket on. A spread in his legs. Undeterred by the speeding beats of his heart, palms watering in nervous sweat the longer your darling eyes are on him. His own hand raises in a wave, a wink colored in confidence he lacked last time is thrown your way. You feel a wave of shyness wash over you at his unexpected forwardness. Your lips curl into a sheepish smile, a shake of your head as you look away and back down at your notebook.
As if you have given him the green light. Energy surges through his body, overshadowing his nerves and he moves as if your smile has been a magic spell you so willingly put on him. And the empty seat in front of you is taken by him. You smell him before you see him, a whirlwind of emotions swim through you when he’s face to face with you, his back to the sleeping teacher.
“Song Y/N.” he greets with a grin, charm clings to his features and your eyes linger on his mole. Sending familiarity to your mind. Raking through it but finding nowhere to place it.
“Hwang Hyunjin.” You greet back, leaning back in your seat, arms stretching in front of you to cover your notebook.
His eyes flicker to it momentarily before going back to your face. A fresh glint is in there, a pleasant one like he’s happy you remember his name.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.” There’s a pleasant breathy edge to his voice.
“I don’t fit in here?” you ask playfully, tilting your head and he’s almost suffocating on your beauty. Didn’t think it’s possible for someone like you to exist.
“Good girls don’t belong in detention.”
“How do you know I’m a good girl? I might have a wild side to me.” You challenge with a raised brow. With his heart beating wildly in his chest when he reaches forward, his fingers drum on the wood of your table almost brushing against your hand “I’d love to see that.”
You hum, his hand radiating heat that spreads through your body despite the fact that he isn’t touching you “well I expected seeing you here, so I guess that helps with your bad boy image.” You comment.
“Bad boy image?”
“Yeah. Isn’t that why you walk around with a cigarette tucked behind your ear?”
“Oh.” His other hand reaches for the poisonous stick he forgot he placed there “that’s why everyone was glaring at me earlier.”
There’s a short silence that fills the small spaces between your bodies, melting on your skin and in your throat begging you to speak the longer his eyes watch you “what are you here for?” you ask after a while, Hyunjin blinks as if he had forgotten the moment he was in, as if he was lost in you, aa if you were anything deserving to get lost in.
“I got caught smoking in the bathroom.” He says stonily “and you?”
“I got caught sleeping in class,” you reply with a shrug, and he chuckles, amused at how different you two are in the best possible way. It ignites something in him, waters a field he didn’t know was abandoned in his heart.
“What are you writing?” he asks, pointing with his eyes at the notebook you’re still hiding. You hesitate, gnawing on your bottom lip before tentatively removing your hands, allowing him to look. And he does, ever so eager as his eyes study the sketch of your design.
“You did this?” he asks with wide shinning eyes, and you wordlessly nod “Y/N it’s amazing!”
“You really think so?” you ask and Hyunjin’s grin widens in response “yes! You’re so talented holy fuck!” he exclaims in strives to convince you. His tone raising in volume before he slaps his hand to his mouth, eyes wide and he turns around to check if he disturbed the sleep of the teacher. He still snores peacefully.
You break into a fit of giggles, a sound he did not expect to hear and when he turns back to you. Your small hand is covering your mouth. The sight has butterflies roaming through his stomach, violently as if fighting for a way to come out. His own lips stretching into a smile until your laughter dies down, settling into an awkward silence as you avoid his eyes.
“You’re cute, Song Y/N.” he says absentmindedly, as if he didn’t mean for them to run away from his mind to his tongue but he doesn’t flatter, doesn’t take it away and you bask in the way it makes you feel. In the way your face burns as you grip your pencil and resumed the swirls of your hand, running away from his words only for them to hunt you down again.
The rest of detention had passed in a tranquil silence, despite the windows being closed you had felt incredibly warm. It courses through your heart, bumping life into the dull ache that has settled there. The warmth of Hyunjin’s gaze had lingered, it seared on your being even after weeks of not seeing him again.
You don’t see Hyunjin for a long while after that, not until the end of the semester. A week before summer break and during preparation for your school’s summer festival. A yearly event that they held. In the midst of your group making a sign with unmatching colors for your class you had ran out of color, grumbling and complaining they argued on who should go get more “I’ll go get it.” You volunteered, killing their argument successfully and earning thank yous in return.
You strolled along the running track on your way to the main building taking your time as you had grown tired from working all day. It felt like a nice break. Your hand swings back and forth capping and uncapping the sharpie pen you didn’t realize you picked up when you got up. Your eyes linger to your left, watching the soccer practice that is taking place. It wasn’t hard to notice him, the star of the team. The hushed whispers of nearby students remind you that you’re all enamored by the same person.
It is these specific moments that have you grasping the reality of how different you and Hyunjin are. It dawns on you like a cold bucket of water, you didn’t think about it much, didn’t think about him much but it’s like when you see him you can’t stop. Every time you see him you know he will haunt your mind for a few nights after. Perhaps that’s why your steps had come to a stop. Hyunjin had once again managed to filch attention you weren’t willing to give but that was just the kind of person he was. He easily captured the attention of everyone around him, admiring him. That’s the thing with Hyunjin, it was so easy to admire him. And maybe that’s why you had made it a challenge with yourself to be different. To not be a person who waits around the corner just to steal a look at him.
When Hyunjin notices you, eyes widen in gleam and a beam on his face. You don’t think about how fast you fail. And when he waves at you from a distance. A scene so strikingly familiar it has you confused. Your challenge collapses as fast as it comes, lying pathetically by your feet as you wait, just like every other admirer you wait as Hyunjin says something to his teammates. Two of them you recognize because they’re always around him, Lee Felix and Kim Seungmin. You had smiled at them, in attempts to be friendly and kind. It was part of your building reputation after all.
Back then, you were once again proven to be naïve. Constantly pushed into the shadow as destiny liked to fuck with you. You didn’t know it back then, that soon enough Kim Seungmin, the Seungmin you smiled so willingly at would be the same person who’s aiming a blade at you, you didn’t know the amount of pain he’d inflict on you.
Hyunjin is jogging towards you as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he isn’t fast enough, his soccer uniform is a tad too big on him. His lithe body leaves space.
“Song Y/N.” he’s out of breath when he’s next to you, sweat rolling down his exposed forehead as he grins at you.
“Hwang Hyunjin.” You greet back as usual.
“I didn’t know you were watching me.” His hand starts wiping away at his sweat, brushing through his hair multiple times as if he’s suddenly feeling self-conscious about his disheveled appearance. It has smile tugging at the corner of your lips “I was just passing by,” you explain lightly, a palpable tension oozes around you the longer he keeps his eyes on you. His stare burns as hot as the sun above.
“Nice ears by the way,” he comments, eyes flickering to the top of your head, and you subconsciously reach for it, your hand touches the fake fur of your cat ears that you had completely forgot you put on. Your face burns in embarrassment while his eyes light up as if witnessing a rare scene.
“My class is doing a cat slash zodiac café thing.” You fumble with your words to explain, your nerves show in the way you go back to capping and uncapping the lid of your pen “sounds like a lot, Y/N.”
“It is.” You answer shortly and he hums into the momentary silence “what’s your zodiac sign?” he suddenly asks and you’re thankful for the change of subject, you show him your wrist, the symbol of your sign your group had drawn for you.
“What’s yours?” you ask, tone curious and gentle. Feels like feathers against his skin as he swallows back nothing “not sure, I was born on the 20th of march.”
“Ah, you’re a Pisces.”
“What does that mean?” he wonders, eyebrows furrowing in thought.
“That you’re a sensitive baby.” You let a playful smile climb to the corners of your lips, lifting over the wall of slight awkwardness that stays around you two. He pauses at the glimpse of it, his own lips quirking upwards, and he rolls his eyes “are we at least compatible?”
“I think we might be the worst match out there.” You reply, giggling faintly. Hyunjin watches you, a garden of flowers blossom in his throat, taking every word he could say back to you. Your softness is prodigious, delicate in ways he wasn’t aware of.
“I have to go.” You say after a while and Hyunjin blinks rapidly, realizes he had done nothing but stare at you like a fool.
“Wait,” his voice is hoarse, his hand that stop you only touch you for a mere minute before he retracts it, it leaves you burning for more “Can I uh-“ he nervously rubs the back of his neck with his hand, eyes lolling everywhere “Can I have your Instagram or something?”
“I don’t really use Instagram.”
“oh.” Hyunjin’s eyes drop in disappointment, so glaringly obvious and you feel like a criminal who had stolen his light. Maybe you felt sorry and maybe that’s why you decided to light a match for him.
“I can give you my number instead.”
Was it then? That your heart had decided to surrender? Or was it when he messaged you for the first time that night with a link to an article, talking about how your signs are in fact compatible.
When was it exactly that you had become a willing victim of his?
On the last night of your summer break you saw Hyunjin again, passing by a skate park in your off white vintage two-piece your mother had picked out for you, your heels leaves a dull ache in your body leaving a trail of disappointment behind you with every step you take, evidence of another failed blind date your mother had set you up on.
“Hwang Hyunjin.” You had spoken first that night and he froze, a cigarette mid-way to his lips as he stared at you in complete awe. As if he couldn’t believe you were real, as if you were a mirage and you were gonna be gone if he blinks. You looked so beautiful to him, you always did. You were the only person capable of making his breath hitch.
“Song Y/N.” he says breathlessly “Wow! You look amazing,” his eyes rake over you appreciatively, you were incredulously pretty. A goddess that threats to steal his remaining sanity.
“Thank you,” you mumble, something akin to relief had spread through your body at the sight of him, you hadn’t realize how rigid you were until your eyes met, melting the tension in the folds of your feature with a single glance of his.
Have you already surrendered?
“Back from a date?” he asks clearing his throat after noticing how hard he was staring at you, he twirls the white stick of poison between his fingers. How lucky, you can’t help but think.
“A blind date,” you specify “it was horrible.” You trail off, eyes fliting to his group of friends behind him before they’re back on him.
You’re not sure of what kind of expression you had on, not sure if Hyunjin had maybe pitied you. If maybe he felt nicer than he’d like and that’s why you ended up sitting next to each other on the beach. He lent you his dark flannel and you used it to cover your bare legs. Your shoulders bump as he splits his sandwich in half and hands you the bigger piece. Your heart was beating wildly, the warmth of his shoulder somehow spreads through your entire being leaving you wondering how could a single person radiate this much warmth?
“It’s kinda spicy,” he says through a bite, acting so naturally and it’s unfair the way he leaves you caught between his dark eyes and his nice gestures.
“I like spicy food,” you retorted taking a bite from your own half, he hums, watches as you chew and doesn’t look away until you’re nodding in satisfaction.
“So, how bad was your date?”
“It had me questioning if I’m even attracted to men. That bad.” Hyunjin chuckles but doesn’t say anything, he looks captivated by you. Watches the way your fingers wipe off the corner of your mouth despite it being clean, the way you tuck your hair behind your ear. The way you hum in delight as you take another bite of your sandwich, the sullen expression you had earlier is nowhere in sight. Was it normal to be this interested in such small mannerism? He felt peculiar.
“Do you think soulmates exist?” You ask after a while of silence, tone soft and content and your food is long gone.
“My answer is a little complicated.”
“Tell me, “You say, turning to look at him as you lay your head on your bent knees. He sees the moon in the flickers of light in your eyes. How exceptional you are, stealing the attention of the great moon. How could he ever not be defeated by you?
“I do think soulmates exist, but I don’t everyone is lucky to meet their own.”
“How come?”
“I just don’t think it’s not realistic for everyone to meet their soulmate. Not everyone can be lucky and happy that’s not how the world works.” He replies with a shrug, mirroring you as he leans his head on his knees. The sound of the waves fills the empty spaces between your words “What about you? Do you believe in soulmates?”
“I don’t,”
“Why?”
“I don’t know I just don’t think they exist. I don’t believe in forever and all that other stuff.”
“You don’t think someone is gonna love you forever someday?” he asks, tone soft and faint. And somehow it feels like there’s no room in your heart anymore for oxygen. It’s all taken by him. And you’re suddenly consumed by him without realizing it. His delicacy waters your heart, it’s in the flannel on your legs, in the scent that had now stuck to your body and it’s in the food you shared. His tenderness was unwonted for you.
Is that why you craved for more? Is that why you wondered if you could just fall?
“The idea of loving someone forever sounds ridiculous.” Hyunjin never said anything back to that, a tranquil hush had fallen over you two. Both of you quietly gaze at each other, entranced by one another. And a foolish little sparkle had formed in the middle of your heart, spreading its light through your being and birthing even more sparkles into your soul.
Was this another a test by destiny you failed or was it possible for him to fall too
Hyunjin had lingered by your doorstep that night, swaying on his feet. The night breeze is cooling as it brushes against you. And his flannel is now around you. His scent mixes with yours, leaving you feeling intoxicated.
“What?” you asked with a hint of a smile. He lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes vulnerable as they stare you down. “I’m just feeling somewhat sad.” he makes no attempt to conceal it.
“Why?” your voice sounded as frail as your swaying feelings.
“I don’t know. I guess I regret spending the entire summer chickening out when everyday could have been like today.” 
Back then you had found his sadness to be indiscreetly foolish . It’s not like you were gonna dissolve into thin air. You had next summer and the one after. You had the upcoming winter and the one after. You had so much time coming or at least that’s what you thought. You wonder if Hyunjin felt it, if he felt your time running out already and just like you, he had desperately tried to clutch onto it. To squeeze himself into every passing second where you coexisted in the same space. 
You didn’t know it then, that your own words would return to you tenth fold. You didn’t know that the words you spoke ever so causally were gonna be your dreading reality. You didn’t know you’d break down to the point where you’d hold on to a sliver line of hope wishing for it to someday bleed into the forever you once said you didn’t believe in. 
You were constantly at the edge of your seat, every time Hyunjin had turned his back to you it left you drowning even more and wondering if tomorrow he’s gonna be there. You had prepared yourself all this time and yet when Hyunjin turned his back to you for the last time. It broke you. 
The sliver of hope had ended up killing you. 
Looking back at it now you think that your sixteenth summer might have been the last moments of your sincerity, the last few moments before change had barged in, breaking your door down and taking place in you to turn you into something you weren’t able to escape. a snake that you pretended to like being in the skin of.
On the morning of your 17th birthday the planets had shifted and just like always you were a pawn in this game fate liked to play. your fairytale like arc had ended. To commingle into something new, an agony that had spreads its roots into your life. Vow to not never leave unless it made a mark on you, unless it sucked the life out of and diluted you to nothing but an immense penumbra.
You were taking a stroll outside on your bicycle, the wind dancing its way in your hair. A cool breeze that draws a smile on your face settling into a peaceful warmth in the center of your chest. You hadn’t anticipated the break of it all. The dull darkness that had replaced every sense of and shape of light you had ever known. It all came in sudden waves, seeing your dad’s car parked three streets away was a surprise that had soon melted into curiosity as you inched closer to look. You didn’t think of why, didn’t think about the consequences. You were naive and that became your downfall when you peeked inside the car and saw your dad with another woman, your dad kissing another woman, your dad’s hand in another woman’s hair. 
That morning you had experienced your first heartbreak, and it was caused by no one other than your own father. 
“Make a wish Y/N.” your mother said, placing the sugar free vanilla cake she had purchased two days ago, and you ended up seeing in fridge in front of you. You didn’t feel happy, not an excited bone in your body. Instead, all you felt was betrayal and rage, melting into liquid to run through your veins. It transmitted through your eyes, sharp as they glared at your father who sat across of you. Sipping on his coffee. 
“Go on.” Your mom urged you with a push to your shoulder. You stared at the candle, your heart catching on fire alongside it. You close your eyes, you draw in a deep, shuddering breath. And you blow on it. Your mother doesn’t clap and neither does your father. He’s scrolling through his phone and your mother takes the cake from in front of you.
 “I’ll give you a piece after dinner.” She says and you wordlessly nod. Fresh pain swims in you the longer you look at him, the longer you notice how indifferent he looked. Was a guilty man supposed to be this relaxed? Did he even care? Just for how long he has been doing this? The questions overwhelm you, leaving you feeling choked.
Your phone’s screen lights up and your eyes flicker to the coming message.
Hyunjin: Meet you at our spot in 5? I have something I wanna give you.
“I’m going out for a bit,” you announce, standing up from your seat with one last glare sent your father’s way.
“What? Dinner’s almost ready. Where are you going?” your mother scolded, followed you as you were putting on your shoes “I’m seeing Hyunjin for a bit.” You explained frigidly, not letting her huff of annoyance affect you.
“Again? All you do is spend time with that Hwang kid! I told you a million times he isn’t good-“you close the door shut with a slam.
Once you see Hyunjin standing on the beach, his back to you as he stared at the sea immersed in the crashing waves, you felt the same waves crash against the walls of your heart. Washing it into a tempest of blues that you didn’t even know you were capable of feeling.  It wraps around your ankles and drags you down, threatening to make you one with the sand. Taking wobbly steps to him, you wish it would happen.
“Hyunjin.” You call once you’re close, once you’re in an appropriate distance for your heart not to jump and attack his. He turns around and your heart is weaker than you hope for. Jumping out of your grasp and into him.
Please give it back.
“Y/N!” his voice is airy, light enough to blend in with your blood, light enough to have you wishing he was running through your veins.
“Hey.” You breath in faux cheerfulness, a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes but he doesn’t get to dwell on it because with three quick steps he’s in your presence, destroying your safe distance as he pulls you into him with a hug, arms around your waist. His scent invades your space and your fingers desperately clutch the fabric of his white shirt, tears brimming in your waterline.
When he pulls back, his cold hands are cupping your cheeks. It has goosebumps and tingles littering along your spine. “what’s wrong?” he asks gently, his concerned eyes search your own. Letting loose, your tears fall like a waterfall that can’t be stopped “I’m just overwhelmed.” You chuckle, humorlessly.
“About what?”
“I’m getting old,” you sniffle and Hyunjin is smiling, a comfort he doesn’t know he can provide “you’re an idiot Y/N.” he shakes his head at you, and you agree.
“Well hopefully this will cheer you up.” He tells you, eyes glinting with happiness you wish to never leave him, you wish for him to always shine this brightly and maybe that’s why you didn’t tell him back then, the burden you carried felt too heavy for his softening gaze. You watch as he reaches in his pocket, he gauges your reactions as he pulls out a silver chain, a bracelet. Eyes dancing with overflowing emotions as he clasps it around your wrist.
You look at it only to realize that the letter ‘H’ dangles at the end of it, he raises his own wrist to show you a matching chain around his, your initial dangles from it “We’re matching.” He tells you with a grin and just like that Hyunjin had once again managed to pick the broken pieces of your heart and glue it together with emotions you shouldn’t feel.
You bury your face in your hands, overwhelmed and stolen away again by his charm. He had pulled you from the sinking sand under your feet and into his embrace instead. Wrapping you into the delicacy you run away from only to end up drowned in.
The day you turned seventeen your serial mendacious had began with two lies, the first was a witless venture to protect your family. You thought if you kept quiet then you could save them maybe someday, you’ll be able to mend them back together. It was an idiotic idea.
The second lie didn’t matter because you were certain Hyunjin would never feel the same way about you. It was an idiotic idea to explore as well. How could the sun possibly be attached to a dying speck of light?
Previous | Next
Masterlist
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Taglist: @annybah , @christopherisfoive , @realrintaro , @kkamismom12 , @nujeskz , @wolfietara , @luvvvash , @pnkcasket, @asiixc , @shyshyshytwice , @samhomo , @babrieeee , @nhyunn , @enzstr , @idontlikecoffeeortea , @feelikecinderella , @not-very-slay-of-you , @linocvp1d , @amarecerasus , @itgirlalisaa , @babrieeee , @arikazu , @hyundumpling , @skzhoes , @cupkiki , @avokralaim , @hyunenenenenennenenehs , @super-btstrash-posts , @mellhwang , @kaiyaba , @hyunjinloverrrr , @finnbbl , @rockyhedgehog , @heyhaez , @anjian03 , @jihanniee , @skvrze , @tia827 , @enzos-shit , @lilliansreality , @sora1234sblog , @certified-lana-del-rey-lover , @chartrucewhore , @dessianna1
(bold can't be tagged please remember to check your settings so i can tag you!)
166 notes · View notes
cowgurrrl · 3 months
Text
I Believe In You
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Summary: A bet is made [3.0k]
Warnings: so many kisses I stopped counting, Joel talking about his past, parental death, slight angst (???) but lots of comfort (!!!), so many pet names, so much flirting, these two MAKE ME SICK
Tumblr media
You thought getting back in the car would be awkward or silently suffocating you with tension. You thought he'd disappear when you finally found the strength to pull away from his stained lips or that he'd panic the way you had started to panic. He doesn't. 
When you look at him, he just smiles and caresses your chin gently. You're both slow to disentangle from each other, but the night's humidity warrants it. Still, he doesn't move very far once his hands are to himself again. You feel better or, at least, less crazy. Joel is somehow really got at making your shitty moments feel less shitty. "Do you wanna go home, or can I take you for some ice cream?" He asks, his voice a little hoarse, and you smile. Your lipstick is stuck to his mouth, but he doesn't seem to mind. He seems proud of it. When you reach out to smooth some of it away, he lets you get most of it before he presses a kiss to the pad of your thumb. Smug, you think to yourself. 
"I think ice cream sounds great." You say. He grabs the hand you used to wipe away the lipstick, interlocks your fingers, and escorts you to the passenger side to open the door for you. He doesn't let go until you're settled in the seat, and even then, he leans against the door, just looking at you. There's an adorably giddy twinkle in his eyes and a smear of lipstick on his chin. You have to kiss him one more time to fight the fuzzy feeling between your temples. You really meant for it to be quick so you could get ice cream, but he chases your lips and kisses you again. 
"I like kissin' you," he hums against your lips, and you laugh.
"Yeah?" 
"Oh, yeah. We should've done this sooner."
"You're a mess." You tease as you push him away. He stares at you fondly for another second or two before finally closing the door and jogging around to the other side to start the car. It takes a whole two red lights before he finally builds up the courage to rest a hand on your thigh, casually drumming the beat of an old country song into the fabric of your dress as he drives. 
The Sonic he pulls into is pretty dead, with only the tired workers and high school students filling the space. The neon lights of the signs buzz and crackle outside your window as you half-lean across Joel to look at the menu, even though you already know what you want. You order a cookie dough blast, and he orders a mint chocolate chip shake, which you make a face at. He catches you and furrows his eyebrows at you as he fishes his wallet out of his pocket.
"What's that look for?" He asks, and you shake your head. 
"You think you know someone." 
"D'you have a problem with my order?" 
"Mint chocolate chip ice cream is your go-to order? Seriously?" You ask, and he chuckles as he pays. You think about arguing with him about paying for you, but you can't imagine he'd take any money you offered, so you just go back to not not flirting with him. 
"Is this gonna be a deal-breaker for ya?"
"It just might be." Your smile betrays your words, and his hand again finds a place on your leg. Now that the dam is broken, it seems like his favorite thing is to have you close enough to touch, and you're not gonna be one to get in the way of that. You talk until your ice cream rolls its way to the truck, and then you enjoy the cold treats quietly. That is until you catch sight of one of the stray, fat cats lingering in the parking lot. You gasp and get Joel's attention, but he tries to act as excited as you feel. 
"I'm gonna go get one." You threaten, and Joel laughs.
"They'll scratch you."
"No, they won't. Cats love me," you point at a particular plump orange one. "I'd snag that one and take it home. Name it Tubs or somethin'."
"You'd be walkin' home with Tubs." He says, and you turn back to look at him, your jaw dropping slightly at him. He smirks at the reaction and takes a sip of his shake. 
"What? You don't like cats?" 
"'M allergic." He says, and you suck your teeth as you sink back into the seat.
"That sucks."
"Tell me bout it. Sarah used to leave milk out on the porch for the neighborhood cats to try and convince one of 'em to come live with us. Even told her second-grade teacher bout her little plan," he says. "Then, she had to tell 'em all bout how Daddy's allergy broke her heart."
"I think it's heartbreaking, and I'm an adult." You say, and he laughs, shaking his head at you. You trade stories back and forth between bites, and once your styrofoam cups are empty, you slide your uncomfortable heels off and stretch out across the bench seat. Joel doesn't hesitate to pull your legs across his lap and trace happy little circles into your calves as you talk. 
It's always been easy to talk to Joel, but in the privacy of his truck, it feels like it's second nature. He's a good listener, nodding and asking questions along the way, and tells his own stories without hesitation. You could probably sit there for hours and listen to him talk, especially as the nights get darker and his accent gets a little thicker. But you think his laugh is what gets you the most. That big, hearty, throwing-your-head-back kinda laugh that makes your heart sing.
"I can't believe that!" He laughs, and you shake your head, smiling. 
"What? That college is expensive, or that I ran a semi-successful tattoo business out of my apartment for a few months?" You ask, and he pinches your skin playfully, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of his hands on you.
"I know college is expensive, smartass. I just can't believe you did that."
"Better believe it, maverick. There are some really successful adults out there with my shitty tattoos on them." 
"Were they really shitty, or are you tryna be modest again?" He asks, seeing right through you, and you squint at him. He copies the eagle-eyed stare, and you push at him a little, only a little annoyed at how good he is at reading you. 
"I guess we'll never know," you shrug. "C'mon, your turn. What were you like in college?"
"I didn't go to college." 
"Okay, what were you like during that time?"
"In high school, I was kinda pain in the ass. Showin' up late, not doin' my work, breakin' rules, makin' bad decisions." 
"A bad boy. I bet the girls musta loved you."
"Somethin' like that." He laughs. 
"What changed?" You ask, and he takes a deep breath. A crease forms between his eyebrows, and his jaw flexes as he thinks. The air in the truck seems to shift in seconds. You're about to take back the question and tell him he doesn't have to answer, or you can talk about something else, but he pushes forward.
"My dad died the first week of my senior year," he shakes his head, and you get a glimpse of the grieving seventeen-year-old who's probably always been just below the surface, but you couldn't see. He seems so small and so scared. Nothing like the man in front of you now. You put your hand over his without thinking. "It was a freak accident. Heart attack while he was workin'. There wasn't anythin' anyone could've done. My mom took over his contracting company and did her best but was strugglin' too. Tommy wasn't even a teenager yet, so I took over a lot of the day-to-day carin' for him, takin' him to school, gettin' groceries, homework, and all that. When I graduated, I took the company over from my mom and basically had to start over, and I've been doin' it ever since."
"I'm so sorry, Joel." The words feel like trying to put a bandaid on a bullet hole. You would think after so many centuries of people losing loved ones, we'd find something better to say to each other. Joel swallows thickly and shakes his head. He keeps his eyes glued to your hands and clears his throat of sudden emotion.
"'S alright. 'S been a few years." He mumbles, the fatherless seventeen-year-old vanishing and being replaced by the man who's been a father for longer than his dad was. 
"Still doesn't make it easier."
"No, it doesn't," he says. "I did think about goin' to college. I thought that once Tommy got through and settled, maybe I could go. But he enlisted right outta high school, and we had Sarah, and it just wasn't in the cards for me." 
"That's okay." You say, and he nods. You've never asked Ellie about her or Sarah's mother. The most you know is that she was a ward of the state before being adopted, and that's only because it's in her paperwork. It's not your place to ask about her, but now, you can't help the wonder brewing in the back of your mind. We had Sarah, he said. When did 'we' turn into 'I' and why?
"I don't regret it… havin' her so young. It was just hard. I was a kid, and she was so goddamn small and perfect, and I wasn't. Tommy was overseas. There'd be weeks where we didn't hear from him, and we were so fuckin' scared. Mom hasn't been all there since Dad died, and I can't even blame her," he says as his thumb taps against yours. "But I'd do it all over again if it meant I got to be that little girl's dad."
"You're a good dad," you say, and he scoffs. 
"Doesn't feel like it most days." He says. You sit up and look him in the eyes so he knows how genuine you are. 
"I'm serious, Joel. You're a good dad. Do you know how many parents don't even respond to my emails, let alone show up to discuss solutions with me? In my entire career, I haven't met a parent so involved and selfless. It's refreshing," you say. "And you're a good son. And a good brother. You should be really proud of yourself," he looks at you with heavy, emotional eyes and you double down. "I mean it." 
He takes a second to process your words, seemingly turning them over like rocks in his mind. When was the last time someone granted him the kindness of knowing how wanted he is? How important he is? How necessary he is? It might not be your responsibility, but you think it'd be okay if you took on a little bit of that mission. If only to get him to talk better of himself. 
"Thank you," he says, devastating tears welling in his eyes. "I mean it." You nod, and he squeezes your hand tightly like he's looking for grounding. You kiss his cheek, jaw, nose, everything to calm him down, and he kisses you in return. 
This kiss is different than the first one. Where that one was fire and impatience, this one is soft and slow, like you have all the time in the world. Your hand lands on his chest, and your fingers finally get to memorize the chain that's been taunting you all night. Kissing him— feeling the scratch of his beard, the heaviness of his hands, the almost hungry press of his lips— is addicting. He tastes like the mint chocolate chip shake you teased him for and your lipstick. Surprisingly, he's the one to break the kiss this time but tucks you under his arm before you can miss him too much. 
You cuddle into him and grab his hand to play with his fingers and count the freckles, scars, and marks on the bumps and valleys on his knuckles. You go back to a comfortable silence. He kisses your temple, jaw, and shoulder every few minutes like he forgets what your skin tastes like and desperately needs another hit. Whatever might be left in your cups has long since melted, and the cats have moved from one end of the parking lot to the other. You don't want the night to end. You don't want the morning light to reveal all your obligations and rules again. You want to sit in this deserted Sonic and talk about nothing with him. 
"So, if college wasn't in the cards for you, what is? What's the next thing?" You finally ask after letting the question simmer in your head for a while. 
"Besides gettin' my kids through school?" He asks against your temple, and you laugh. 
"Yeah. In a perfect world where you could do anything you wanted, what's the first thing you'd want to do? Not what you think you should or have to do. What do you want to do? Professionally or just in life." You poke his forearm to drive your point home. You thought it would take him a minute to think about his options, but he's quick with the answer. 
"I'd want to expand my dad's business. Maybe open up another department of homemade tables and nice chairs and stuff like that. Make it really worth somethin'." He says dreamily, and you smile. 
"Sounds nice," you say, and he hums. "What's stopping you?"
"Money. We have enough to do day-to-day operations and make a profit, but we don't have enough to take big leaps like the one I'm thinkin'."
"So, apply for money." You say, and he scoffs.
"Right. Easy."
"I'm serious. There's gotta be loans or grants out there for small business owners. Especially ones that are as dedicated as you." 
"I don't know. Aren't those things kinda based on luck?" He asks.
"And you don't think the Millers are due some luck?" You counter, and he sighs. "You can admit I'm right sometimes. It's okay." 
"Alright, simmer down there, sweetheart. I didn't say all that," he says. "Your turn. Perfect world, what's the first thing you'd want to do?"
"Get my work in a gallery and get people with way more money than me to buy my art so I can keep making more. In an absolutely perfect world, I'd be able to make things people really connect with and care about." You answer equally as fast as he did. 
"What's stoppin' you?" He asks.
"Nobody's taking my work. They keep saying they want something with more emotion or more of a story, and I just don't have time to make art like that right now. I know I could. It'd just be a lot." 
"What are you makin' now?"
"Shitty commissions that I don't really care about. They're just something to pay bills. Or if it's not shitty commissions, it's just shitty art." 
"Wow," he scoffs, and you turn to look at him, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Are you this mean to your students? 'Cause if you are, I think I've gotta report you to someone." He says, and you slap his arm. 
"No, c'mon. It's just, I don't know! It's different!" 
"You just don't think you deserve the same grace you give them 'cause you think you have to have everythin' figured out." 
"Damn, Miller!" You exclaim at his effortless analysis. If it wasn't so spot-on and unexpected, you might be embarrassed. He bows his head a little and smirks.
"You can say I'm right sometimes. It's okay." He echoes, and you roll your eyes. You adopt a deep voice and mimic him, making him laugh and swear that he "doesn't sound like that." He gets pensive again like he did when he started talking about his dad, and you sit up, waiting for whatever he might throw your way. "I have an idea," he says, and you smile. "How bout we make a deal? I'll apply for whatever fundin' is available, and you make those pieces and submit them to galleries, and we'll see who gets what. Either way, we both do somethin' that pushes us further."
"What? Like a bet?" 
"If that helps you get motivated, sure." He says, and you hum.
"What do I get if I win?" You ask. 
"Something to lord over me forever?"
"Oh, I'm sure I'll find plenty of those."
"Alright, if you win, I'll... do whatever classroom renovations you need or want for free for a whole school year." He says. You'd be lying if you said the idea wasn't a good one. You'd get to upgrade your classroom and stop things from falling apart while getting to watch Joel work. And it's free? It's too good of an opportunity to pass up. 
"Alright, and what do you get if you win?" You ask even though you have an idea of what he's going to say. 
"I want to take you out on a date. A real date. Not one these… what'd you call 'em?"
"Not dates?"
"Yeah," he says. "If I win, you have to let me take you on a real nice date. We'll get all dressed up, and I'll take you somewhere much fancier than fuckin' Sonic. I'd even make sure Ellie has no idea it's happenin' if it'll make you feel better." It sounds like a dream. You'd be stupid to say no.
"I think I can manage that." You agree, and he raises his eyebrows at you.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you offer him your hand. "You've got yourself a bet, Miller. I hope you like climbing on tables."
"Gettin' cocky already?" He asks, squeezing your hand, and you shrug. "Alright, princess, it's on." 
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @casssiopeia @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller
226 notes · View notes
half-oz-eddie · 6 months
Text
Something's wrong with Billy.
Clearly wrong.
He's been holding something back for days, maybe even weeks. Who knows how long?
Steve can tell, though. Billy's cranky and standoffish by default, but he's been more distant than usual.
Billy had a big appetite for sex. With Steve's long hours, he could hardly keep up. They normally had sex every single night, but lately, all Billy wanted to do was cuddle in bed and fall asleep on Steve's chest. Which was fine, but they hadn't had any sex in nearly a month.
That was when Steve knew something was wrong. He wasn't sure how to bring it up. He did all he could to keep comforting Billy, loving him, caring for him each and everyday, but...still...Billy just wasn't himself, and it wasn’t getting any better.
"Baby." Steve softly muttered, caressing Billy's back. "Baby?"
"Hm?"
"We haven't uh...fooled around in awhile. Too tired lately?"
"You can have me anytime, Steve." Billy reached into Steve's shorts, and Steve moved his hand.
"What'd you do that for? I thought you wanted to—"
"I do—but I'm more interested in you and how you're doing."
"I'm fine. Just tired." Billy rested his head on Steve's chest.
"That all? It's just...you've changed. You used to have so much fun, and we had wild sex every night—"
"So is that it?” Billy questioned. “I'm boring you? Gonna find somebody else?"
"What?” Steve emphatically shook his head. “N-no! I could never replace you. I just...you're different, and it makes me worry. Makes me wonder if I'm doing something wrong."
Billy laughed. "Don't be stupid. You're fuckin' perfect."
"So what's wrong, then?"
"It's just...it's like you said. We were having so much fun when we first got together. We'd sneak around, we'd party, get drunk, and everyday was like a fucking movie with you."
"Yeah. We had a lot of fun over the past year." Steve chuckled. "So what's the matter? Is this not fun anymore?"
"No. It's not all fun like before. I'm used to getting a thrill all the time but...when things started to calm down, you weren't just looking for fun. You were loving me, taking care of me, letting me go to school while you work. You told me you believe in me."
"And I meant that! What’s the problem?"
"That is the problem! I've never had that before. I don't—I don't know what else to offer you."
"Offer me?"
"...I don't know how to be anything but a good time. I don't know how to be anything but the life of the party. I don't know how to give you...what you give me."
Steve sighed, his hand wandering into Billy's curls. "Do you remember 2 months ago when I got food poisoning from that shitty food at the diner?"
"Yeah, you were puking your guts out for 2 days."
"And you took care of me. Made me some soup your mom used to make, a-and you even cut some tortillas into little chips with a pizza cutter. It was the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life."
"So?"
"So? That's what I want, Billy. You're there when I need you. For more than sex, more than a party. I can count on you to always be there, without fail. I never have a single doubt about your love for me."
"Because I love you a lot. I love the shit outta you."
"And I love the shit outta you too. So don't worry about this anymore, alright? We're good. Whether there's a party, or we're just lying in bed."
Billy let out the biggest sigh, loosening his shoulders and releasing all of his burdens. "Still feel like…fooling around?" He asked, playfully mocking Steve’s words.
"You kidding? My dick's standing at attention as we speak. You're so hot when you talk to me about your feelings."
Billy laughed as he rolled on top of Steve. "You're so fucking stupid, y'know that? How'd I get so lucky?"
245 notes · View notes
Text
The Lost 5
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of loss, grieving, death, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers
Summary: You move into a shared flat and encounter a mysterious man.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
Tumblr media
Your shift ends and you’re ready to just be alone. It isn’t your first choice of work. In Sokovia, you had your own office and you worked from home on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Here, your resume can’t get you much else than the convenience store gig. Money is money. After all you’ve lost, it’s the only thing left in this world with any meaning.
You come up to the house. It’s a dour building with chipped brick and dark windows. One is covered on the inside with newspaper. The stairs to the second level creak with your steps and your keys jingle as you twist them in the lock. Everything is so loud.
Inside, the hallway is grim with shadows. You kick off your shoes before you enter and clutch the strap of your bag. You have a package of ramen left. You’ll choke that down and close your eyes.
As you come further down the hall, you slow down, odd shapes littered across the floor just outside your door. You get nearer and notice your door is open. How can that be? You always lock it. You double and even triple check.
You stop short of the mess of your meagre belongings across the floor. Three cans, carrots, beans, and pees are dented on their sides; your package of ramen is crushed, the seam split and spilling out broken noodles; your only other sweater is slashed down the front, the stitching unraveling all around the gash; and your bedding dragged off your bed and into the hallway. All that you have, not much at all, right there before you.
You look at the blackened doorway. You can see from there that the top hinge is broken, you can assume the lock is too. You don’t dare go any further as you fear someone lurking inside. You turn back to the door, contemplating whether to retreat or brave the unknown.
The lock flips back, grinding as the deadbolt slides back, and the door opens. You brace yourself as S enters. He looks perturbed even before he sees you. You press your lips together, staring at him dumbly. His eyes meet yours and his brows arch. Then his gaze falls behind you.
He reaches to flip on the light switch beside the door frame. He exhales, disappointment, and closes the door, locking it. He beckons you closer with two fingers. You’re too addled to refuse. You move towards him and sidle against the wall as he signals past you.
Almost militarily, he marches past you. He takes out his cellphone and shines the light ahead of him. His other fist balls as he nears your bedroom. He flashes the light inside as he comes to fill the doorway. You see the room glow before him as his eyes search.
“Dirty coward’s not here,” he snarls as he lowers his phone, thumbing off the light. “... find him.”
He pivots and slides his phone into his back pocket. He seems even bigger as he strides away. You gulp and follow him. 
“Um, sir, it’s–”
“Not okay,” he passes by the kitchen and through the shared front room, “that creep–”
“Really, it’s not– I don’t want to–”
“Thinks he can mess with you. I don’t like bullies,” he growls as he continues on briskly.
“Please, er, I don’t like confrontation. Or violence.”
“I’m not going to get violent,” he stops at the next hall and turns halfway, “just gonna scare him like he did you.”
“You don’t have to–”
“I do. You don’t get it but I do,” he turns back to his mission and stomps into the hall. 
You’re a few steps behind him as he gets to the furthest door. He hammers on it with his large fist. You cower and wring your hands. Your legs shake as the loud pounding rolls in your head like thunder; like buildings collapsing all around you as plumes of dust and smoke choke your lungs.
“What do you think you’re doing, you little worm?” S’s sneer fades as the sight of him grabbing the greasy man by the collar blurs to coloured orbs.
You don’t hear the man’s response or what comes next. You cover your ears and stagger back until your back meets the wall. The memories of your home falling down around you, of the streets littered with bodies, screams erupting from every corner, as horror rains from the sky.
A slam brings you back. You quiver and gasp as you look over. Your hands are clutched in tight fists against your chest, nails digging into your palms. S steps back on his heel as he glares at the closed door.
“Don’t think he’ll bother you ag…” his voice trails as he looks around, stopping short as he sees you towards the other end of the hall, “I… are you alright?”
You can’t speak or move. You just stand, blinking, trembling, as you stare back at him. He nears and you flinch out of his reach as he stretches a hand out. You force your arms down.
“I don’t like violence,” you whisper.
“I didn’t hurt him. Just scared him.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“I’m sorry, I thought…” he pauses, recalculating as you turn your chin away. “I didn’t think. I’m really sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that.”
You shrug. You shake your head and drag your feet out of the hall. You cross the front room and go back down the next. You get down and start to gather up what you can salvage. The rest you’ll sweep into the dustpan.
“What are you going to do? Door’s broken.”
You stand up with the dented cans and your pillow. “Landlord.”
“She’ll have to call someone. She won’t answer her phone either. Too late.”
“What else can I do?” You mumble and go into your room.
You wade around the darkness cautiously but the lamp isn’t where it should be. You kick it with your foot. The overhead light doesn’t work. The space is illuminated by something else. You look at the star of light in the doorway, S’s silhouette behind it as he shines his phone inward.
You peer around. The smell of piss roils off the mattress. You can’t believe it. Why would he do that? To scare you? Why? You were nice. Except you didn’t let him in last night. The memory makes you shudder.
“Real piece of work. Hopefully Muriel finally evicts him,” S says, “I’ll vouch that it was him too.”
You don’t say anything. It seems like fate is against you. You can’t even have this shitty room.
“Tell you what, you can have my room for the night. I’ll sleep on the couch. The others don’t bother me.”
You hang your head, “I can’t…”
“Well, I can’t let you stay in here. Or out on the couch. If you won’t take it, I’ll just have to sleep outside your door.”
You roll your eyes, “why?”
He sniffs and lets out a long breath, “that’s what decent people do. They help each other.”
You’re exhausted and mortified and the smell of urine is making you sick. You don’t have the energy to argue. Not with this man. Just like the shake, you won’t win.
“Just the night,” you agree, “I’ll pay you for it–”
“I won’t take the money.”
“Please,” you beg.
“Keep your money,” he insists, “I have extra sheets. I’ll get those changed.”
You nod and stay in the darkness. You hug your possessions glumly, push your lip in and out as you wallow. You just need one good thing. Just one.
“How was it? The strawberry?” He lingers just outside the door as he shuts the light off, “I never tried it.”
You swallow, “a bit too sweet.”
165 notes · View notes
rorywritesjunk · 7 months
Text
We'll cry later or cry now, but baby, Heartbreak feels so good
Buggy messes up, there's a fight, and he realizes how much you mean to him.
Rating: PG-13ish. Swearing. Warning: A couple fight, angry crying, damage to personal property (kind of not really unintentional). Is mentioning Shanks a warning? I'm gonna say it is. Buggy has Big Feelings and Regrets. A/N: Drama and some angst. Upset Buggy, upset reader. Everyone's upset. I needed to do some angst to balance out some of the other stuff. I have another story later to post as well. Also, at this point the reader in this fic is apparently just the same as the makeup stories and Pampering Buggy. Unintentional at first but it just... happened. Oops. Title comes from "Heartbreak Feels So Good" by Fall Out Boy.
Tumblr media
Your screaming was heard throughout the entire Big Top. 
Buggy was convinced you were being murdered, so he stopped what he was doing and hurried to see what was going on. He could hear your screams coming from the kitchen and they weren’t letting up, so when he rushed in, he frantically looked to see what was causing you to make that much noise.
You were standing at the counter, gripping your hair as you stared down at it. He approached cautiously, hand moving ahead of him to touch your shoulder, letting you know he was there.
“Babe?”
You jumped and smacked his hand away, turning to glare at him; the intensity caused him to stop in his tracks. He finally saw what you were so focused on. Your good knives were laid out on the table, the blades bent with chips and cracks along them. One of them even had a broken handle. Next to the damaged knives was your favorite cutting board. He could see the knife marks in it, as though someone had used it as target practice.
Oh, shit.
“Who did this?!” You demanded as you pointed at your damaged tools. “Why?!”
“I can explain.” He held his hands up, hoping maybe you’d calm down, but instead it seemed to make you angrier. 
“Those were my things, Buggy!” You exclaimed, fists clenched as your eyes began to well up with tears. “Wh-Why does it look like someone used them for target practice?! They’re ruined!”
“Someone asked to use some knives for practice… and I said grab some from the kitchen.” Buggy said; your eyes went wide and it was dawning on him how stupid that suggestion now was. “Now, I didn’t specify which knives…”
“Clearly!” 
“But they’re just knives, babe.” He said with a shrug. “I mean, you can still use them, right?”
Your response to that was crying. The tears were coming now and you couldn’t help it. How could he be that stupid? Those were yours. You brought them onboard when you joined the crew. You even told the crew not to touch them, that they were yours for food prep and nothing else. They weren’t meant to be thrown around! 
Buggy didn’t really expect you to start crying. 
“Babe, babe, come on.” He took a step towards you, reaching out to pull you into a hug, but you pulled away, picking up the knife that had the worst damage to it: a broken tip, bent, chips in the blade. You pointed it at him.
“I can’t prepare meals with this, Buggy!” You wailed. “You wrecked my knives!”
He stared at you in shock. He didn’t like being accused like that. 
“I didn’t touch them!” He shot back. “How was I going to know they’d be used?! Maybe you should have hidden them better!” He crossed his arms and snorted. “They’re just knives. Stop crying over them, it’s not like you can’t use them. Stop being stupid!”
Oh, he regretted that when he saw the crushed look in your eyes, but was he going to say anything? Was he going to apologize? Of course not. 
“Fine.” You rubbed your nose and sniffled, taking a deep breath. “Fine! I hope you have an appetite for spiced boiled water, because without good knives, I can’t do much else!” 
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Buggy rolled his eyes. You glared at him as you opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Fresh tears started rolling down your cheeks instead as you shoved past him, leaving him alone in the kitchen. 
~
The two of you really didn’t fight that much. Arguments happened from time to time, disagreements, typical couple things, but this type of fight where one of the sides fucked up and wouldn’t admit it, well, it was ugly. The crew even noticed that you hadn’t spoken to Buggy for a few hours. He tried to get you to acknowledge him, asking you your thoughts on how the performers were doing, but you ignored him as you helped one of the performer’s with her costume, or made sure another’s hair was done right. 
Buggy tried to ask you how his makeup was looking, tried to see if you’d help him with it, but you turned your back on him and walked off. 
Dinner that night was boiled water with random spices thrown in and you served Buggy the ‘dinner’ in the largest bowl you had.
And you did return to your shared room with him but you wouldn’t talk to him. You bathed without inviting him in the tub, you dressed with your back to him, and you crawled into your side of the bed without giving him a goodnight kiss. When he got into bed and tried to roll over to cuddle with you, he pulled back once he felt how you stiffened at his touch and curled up away from him. He went back to his side and listened to your crying.
When he woke up the next morning, your side of the bed was empty, no warmth left behind. You must have been awake for hours at that point. He rubbed his face, wondering if maybe he needed to apologize. He really should have, it was his fault, but he couldn’t admit that. He was stupid, he knew that. He was still trying to figure out how to be in a relationship. With a sigh, he got out of bed and dressed before heading to the kitchen to look for you.
He was surprised to find an empty kitchen. He winced when he saw the damaged knives and cutting board still in the same place as yesterday, a reminder of how he fucked up. Why didn’t he just apologize instead of saying you were stupid and being dramatic? He picked up one of the knives, looking it over. It didn’t look like it could easily be repaired. Maybe he needed to get you a new set to make up for it.
“Captain?” 
He turned to see one of the performers standing in the doorway. He glared at him and they recoiled just a bit. “What?!”
“Uh, just… have you seen the cook? She was going to help me with my hair, and…”
“What?! What do you mean you haven’t seen her?!” He snapped. “Where the fuck did she go?”
“I-I don’t know, that’s… why I’m asking…” 
Buggy threw the knife in his direction; it almost hit him, instead hitting the frame of the door and clattering to the ground. The performer hurried off, not wanting to become Buggy’s own target, leaving his captain alone. You weren’t there. You had been gone for hours. They had been docked for two days at a port. 
He swallowed heavily as he considered that maybe, just maybe, you had enough and decided to leave.
No, no, no, it wasn’t that bad of a fight, right? You loved him. You told him all the time. You wouldn’t leave him over something silly like this, but he remembered how he reacted to your words, how instead of saying sorry he made it seem like it was your fault. He fucked up, not you. 
Could he blame you for leaving? You did so much for him and he was just there. You took care of him, you made sure he was fed, that his clothes were mended, that his makeup was how he wanted it. You did all of that for him, and all he could do was fuck up and blame you for his own stupidity.
He swore loudly as he stomped out of the kitchen to go start his day. Maybe stringing a freak up by their ankles would make him feel better.
~
You weren’t home by dinner and by then he knew you left for good. He overheard several performers mentioning how they saw you leave with a bag that morning, and that they missed their chance to talk to you. Buggy couldn’t believe you’d leave without saying goodbye to him, but he figured that’s what he deserved after how he treated you the night before. Hell, he never deserved you in the end. How did you put up with him for as long as you did when he was just a pain in your ass? You deserved so much better than him, someone who would treat you the way you deserved to be treated, with treasures, love, everything you wanted. 
Yea, he loved you, and he treasured you, but he knew he didn’t ever tell you enough, if at all.
He couldn’t help but imagine someone like Shanks meeting you and sweeping you off your feet. Of course it would be Shanks who you would meet by chance, fall in love immediately, and leave Buggy behind. The thought of it frustrated Buggy. He should have appreciated you more.
He returned to what was now his room, now that you were gone from his life. He went to your side of the bed and stared down at it, knowing that the last time you slept in his bed, you cried yourself to sleep because of him. He never wanted that, and he wished he apologized last night instead of being stubborn about it. He grabbed your pillow and laid down on the bed, hugging it close to his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. 
He wasn’t going to cry but he definitely wanted to. Instead he held your pillow over his face, taking a deep breath, hoping it still smelled like you. If he stayed like that, maybe he would never forget you. The feeling of your skin, your smell, the sound of your voice.
It was almost like you were still there when he thought he heard you say his name but he was imagining things. You left because he didn't treat you well or appreciate you enough. You were the one always making him feel better when he had a bad day, you always said I love you first, and if he ever did, it was always followed by some bawdy comment. You always initiated those little acts of love and he just… was there. 
You’d make his favorite meals for him and he’d offer to wash the dishes, but there were countless times he’d wake up for a midnight snack and find you in the kitchen, cleaning up after he forgot to do so.
You’d tell him how much you loved him, and he’d make a stupid joke before even saying it back, because he didn’t know how else to respond.
And he was pretty sure he was already going crazy without you there because he swore he heard you say his name again and something hit the pillow. He pulled it down off his face and sat up, eyes widening when he saw you standing at the foot of the bed.
“What are you doing to my pillow?” You asked. 
“You came back.” Was his response. 
“What?” You looked confused. “Yea? We’re at a port, we needed some kitchen supplies.” He winced slightly and you glared at him. “I took one of my knives to see if they could get fixed but as I suspected, they are beyond repair.”
"Babe-"
"I can't believe you let someone use my things like that, Buggy!" You exclaimed as you sat at the foot of the bed to remove your shoes. "I asked one thing when I came onboard and was for the crew to respect that the kitchen was my space, that if they needed something to ask me! And then you went and let someone go in there and use my things! Those were expensive knives, I paid good money for them, and I can't go and-"
"'Msorry." He spoke so quietly you almost didn’t hear him.
"Buy replace- what?" You turned to look at him. He wasn't looking at you, instead he was sitting up now on the bed, legs hanging over the side as he stared down at his feet. You got up from your seat and walked over to him, crossing your arms as you stood in front of him. "Look at me, Buggy." He winced at your tone but did as you asked. "Repeat what you just said but I want you to look me in the eyes when you do."
He hesitated, it was difficult, but he did as you asked, slowly looking up at you, locking eyes with you, almost muttering again under your glare but he managed to get the words out.
"I'm sorry." He said, trying not to let his voice waver. "I'm sorry for ruining your… things. And for how I spoke to you. And for not apologizing." He looked back down at his feet and slumped forward, resting his head in his hands. "I just don't want you to leave me."
You inhaled sharply, did he really think you left him without telling him? This was starting to give you a headache.
"First off, thank you for apologizing." You said as you stepped closer to him, putting your hand on his head. He took that as an invite to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you to him as he pressed his face against your stomach. You sighed. "And second, Buggy, if I was ending things with you I would tell you. I was gone because like I said, we needed some supplies, and I needed a break from here for a while.”
"'msorry." His voice was muffled against your shirt as he tightened his hold on you. "I can't lose you to someone else."
"Buggy, you're not going to." You told him as you reached down to move his head away from you, just enough for you to cup his cheeks and you could look into his eyes. "But Buggy, all I want now is another apology for how you spoke to me, and I want a new, nicer set of knives and cutting board that is off limits to everyone, understand? Because if I catch anyone else so much as touching them then I'll cut their hands off with those nice sharp knives and use their blood to oil the board. Do you understand?"
Buggy could only nod, leaning into your touch as his hands came up to cover your own. "I'm sorry for… how I spoke to you, you're not stupid or dramatic… that's all me, I'm sorry. I'll get you new things, I promise."
"Thank you." You stroked his cheeks gently before pulling back. "Now, I am damn exhausted from all of this and am taking a bath." 
He pulled you back to him before you could get too far away from him. He wanted to be sure you were real, that this wasn’t his imagination, that you were really there. He wrapped his arms around your waist once more, resting his head against your stomach as you put your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them slowly, trying to get him to relax. You were still hurt from the night before, especially how he spoke to you, but it made you feel a little better to see how upset he was, that he did regret his actions. 
After a few minutes, you finally pulled away from him and went to get undressed. You heard Buggy get up behind you, and you wanted to tell him that you were taking a bath by yourself, but when you turned around you were surprised to see him getting the tub ready for you. 
“Thanks?” You were a little confused by the gesture, but you weren’t going to question it. 
“I… love you.” He said as he checked the temperature of the water, making sure it wasn’t too hot for you. “And thank you for everything you do for me.”
You smiled a bit and went over to him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, Buggy.”
330 notes · View notes
ventismacchiato · 2 years
Note
I hope you’re doing well, could you write for Scaramouche where the reader kisses his insecurities away-
Have a good day!!
KISSING HIS INSECURITIES AWAY
a/n: hope this is sufficient 😭 can’t wait for his voice lines to be released so we have a better understanding of his character
notes: reader works for fatui
masterlist
Tumblr media
you and scara had been together for just barely a year now, and yet, scara still didn’t quite believe it. you noticed it when he didn’t react well to your touches in the beginning, inching his cheek away or jerking his hand from yours. but as the months passed and seasons changed he slowly let you in. even if that only meant getting to hold his callused hand for an extra few seconds.
you knew of his past and knew when you should stop prying, but sometimes you wished he would let you in. you had to roll your words in your mouth to see how they feel before letting them go, just to be certain scara understood how much you cared for him and wouldn’t judge. it was a slow process, but you were willing to wait.
you were both out on a mission and had separated from your crew to let them do the dirty work, perks of being in a relationship with a harbinger was that he went easy on you. if they needed help they’d call so for the most part you and scara wandered around the premise as you both competed against each other to kill any enemies in your way.
when nightfall came you both slumped against a tree, your breath visible in the air from the cold wind. scara was beside you drawing circles in the dirt, gazing elsewhere.
his other hand was free so you reached over and laced your fingers with his. you felt his body go stiff before he let you lock your fingers with his and rub your thumb against his palm.
“why do you try?” he asks, his voice mellow.
“what do you mean?” you hum, observing the chipped nail polish you had begged him to let you do the other week.
“try with me,” he adds, “it’s pointless.”
you turned to look at him, but his eyes were still downward. the light from the moon lets you see the pale glow of his skin and the bags under his eyes.
“you’re not pointless,” you slowly say, not knowing where he was going with this.
he looks down at your interlocked hands.
“i’m holding my breath every day, waiting for when you inevitably leave.”
“i’m not going to,” you easily assure.
“that’s what everyone else said,” scara dryly laughs, voice empty, “I have no clue how to do this shit. You know I’m a literal puppet. I’m not meant to love.”
“everyone deserves a chance to be loved,” you start, pulling his palm to your lips and letting them graze his knuckles, “i’m gonna stay and show you.”
he finally turns his gaze towards you, eyeing your hand in his.
“i don’t believe you,” he says, leaning his head on bark of the tree.
“I’ll keep trying until you do,” you hum, taking your free hand and maneuvering yourself so you’re straddling his lap. one hand holding his and the other grazing his cheek.
he raises a brow at you, his other hand instinctively holding your waist.
you lean down and place a chaste kiss on each of his cheeks and watch in glee as they bloom pink. his grip on your waist hardens and you take that as an encouragement to continue. you move your lips to his jaw and leave a trail of kisses down to his chin. and finally, you give him a kiss.
at first, he doesn’t respond. but after a few seconds, he pushes you up closer to him and kisses back with more fervor. his fingers interlace with yours and you only pull back for a breath.
“believe me now?” you whisper, curling a strand of his hair behind his ear.
“i’m not sure,” he starts, “you’ll need to do it a few more time,” he adds, a sly smile upturning his lips.
you give him a half-hearted shove but ultimately fulfill his request.
Tumblr media
a/n: hope you approved anon 💓 if anyone has requests i’ve opened them^^ ty for reading and here’s to hoping tumblr doesn’t fuck up the layout of this 🍻
2K notes · View notes
itsstrange · 30 days
Text
The Promise
Relationship: Rip Wheeler x Reader
Fandom: Yellowstone
A/N: A small idea I had while daydreaming at work, hope y’all like it. 🥹
Summary: Saying Goodbye Is Always The Hardest. So Is Keeping A Promise.
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings: (No) Angst, Mention of Military, Farewells, A Little Sad Moment, Angry Rip, Sad Rip, Arguments, Small Confessions.
————
ENJOY 🐎
————
Tumblr media
——————————
“So… you’re really goin’ back?”
You look up, meeting his eyes before averting them back down to your duffel bag where you toss the stack of clothes inside. The clothes that have been folded, locked away underneath the bed for the past five years. The clothes you swore you wouldn’t wear again, wouldn’t dare to see until you had kids in the future to explain to them why you had a pile of clothes and photos locked away in some old worn trunk that dusted away underneath your bed.
Unfortunately it didn’t last to reach that day because here you are, packing away the clothes into your tactical duffel bag that was also locked away.
“How long?”
You inhale deeply through your nose before slowly exhaling, still not meeting their gaze you continue packing away, placing the frame photo of you and the boys in the center before zipping the duffel shut.
“Not sure.. too early to say,” You answer as you move the bag to the foot of the bed before sitting down,
“When do you leave?”
You swallow, feeling the way your chest tightens at the thought, “Tomorrow, before sunrise,”
Thick silence hovers the room. Everyone thinking and feeling the same thoughts, emotions.
“And why are you going back again?”
“Will you morons knock it off with the questions,” Lloyd’s husky voice bouncing off the wooden walls brings a small smile and a chuckle from you,
“A buddy of mine needs help,” You still answer Jimmy’s question, which he doesn’t respond with another mostly because he can see the way Lloyd gives him the look,
No other questions were sent your way, neither of them wanting a look from Lloyd as well, nor did they want you to dwell on the heavy mood that hovered. So instead, Ryan and Colby were the first to bring up a farewell party, change of topic. You kindly decline their idea, but of course neither men listens to you.
As Ryan and Colby begin listing items on what to bring for the farewell bonfire, and yelling at one another on who gets to keep your bunk (because it’s the closest one to the bathroom) you couldn’t help the small chuckle that falls from your lips. You were really going to miss every single person in this room. Despite them making you lose a few strands of hair from their idiotic actions, and constant bar brawls, you were surely going to miss them.
They made every other day interesting, every night annoying and fun at the same time with their childlike games that they come up with that sometimes leaves them with bruises or a chipped tooth. Everyday, every night, they made it special and you were definitely gonna miss it.
“Hey I’m not leaving just yet, I still got the whole day and the night before y’all start fighting over my bunk,” You say as you stand from the bed, punching both men on their shoulders,
They both share a laugh with you as they continue listing whatever alcohol they should buy, asking if you preferred hotdogs or burgers as you all walked out the house.
Saying goodbye to them was hard, but not as hard as it’s gonna be when you say it to him. Now that.. that will definitely break your heart. The look in his eyes when you tell him, you can already picture them and from the way your chest tightens, you know it’ll be difficult.
*******
You were currently feeding the rest of the horses inside the stables. Marking down the ones who needed a wash and a trim, which stables needed cleaning. Same old routine before having to check up on the rest of the animals, considering your main job at the ranch was analyzing and tracking the animals health. You weren’t exactly a veterinarian, but you learned a few things throughout the years which John persuaded you to take up on his offer of being in charge of the animals when it came to their monthly health checkups. So of course you took classes to advance your knowledge, to help around the ranch, make it easier for the old timer.
Yes he did have actual trained, experienced, veterinarians working on his animals before, but knowing how you easily picked up the job, how much love and care you gave to the livestock, he knew it was a good investment on both parts. Besides, he trusted you dearly in that department.
Hours had flown by, nearing six o’clock in the afternoon as you were finishing up in the stables before heading out to help Lloyd and the boys to check out some of the cows that were further up in the land. As well as putting up a new fence since the one hanging on was already rusting away due to the weather these past few days, as well as some idiotic trespassers cutting through the fence simply to test the Dutton family.
Just as you throw some fresh hay into one of the stables and patted the horse in its neck as he eats his dinner, the sound of loud rough boots marching against the ground ring in your ears.
“Were you ever gonna tell me?” His loud, rough voice settles behind you, words firm as you dumped hay into the last stable,
You sigh, taking off your gloves and placing them in your back pocket before looking up at him. Eyes wide, angry, betrayal, and fear were written in them. Just like you pictured.
“Yes.. I was,”
“When? Tomorrow? When you leave apparently?” Betrayal can be heard in his voice, blue eyes confirming his tone,
“There hasn’t been a good time to let you know,” You tell him, voice calm, tired, heartbroken,
It wasn’t a lie. When he had gotten back from running an errand with Kayce you were determined to lay it on him, but things got hectic that you weren’t even able to spare him a word. It remained that way for the rest of the day, work after work, problem after problem, when lunch came around he wasn’t at the table eating his supper with everyone else, he was out with Dutton, doing the man a favor, so wanting to talk to him during lunch didn’t happen like you were hoping for.
You told yourself you’d let him know when he came back, but apparently he was out and about with Dutton for the rest of the day. So by the time he had came back was at this very moment, catching you feeding the horses inside the stables. Dutton must’ve told him at some point during their errand runs, who else could have? You weren’t annoyed it was your boss who gave him the news, but you were hoping it’d be you who told him because it came from you, no one else.
“Do you not remember what that place did to you?!” He harshly whispers, taking a step closer to you, “Cause I sure as hell can!”
You lower your gaze to the floor with a faint sigh at his words. Of course you remember. How can one forget something like that? The constant nightmares, the flashbacks, mood swings, not knowing what was real or not, the cold sweats, all of it you remember. The first few weeks of being home after being honorably discharged were rather difficult, your body knew it was home, safe, but your mind was still at war. Constant nightmares played in your in head, bullets flying everywhere, blood stains surrounding you, staining your hands and vest. Screams echoing in your mind on a daily from those who were gunned down, who were injured and were slowly bleeding out in your hands.
It was an everyday thing. The boys, Rip, would beg you to get help, to talk to someone, but you’d just shrug them off telling them you were fine, that it’ll pass.
But you were in fact not okay and the nightmares never ceased.
It was after one particular night that everything had changed. The one night that had you finally reaching out for help, the night that had you admitting that you were not okay.
You had been home for two weeks when it had happened. All it took was a hectic, drunken brawl to trigger the episode. One minute you’re enjoying your beer, slightly laughing at a joke that one of the boys shared, letting lose to ease the noise in your head, then the next you’re being pulled off a blonde head who’s face was nearly disfigured beneath you. Blood covering her once fresh face and clean hair, along with your hands that shook from adrenaline, anger, fear, shell shock.
Once Rip got word of what happened he stormed his way to the bunkhouse which is where he had found you staring at your own reflection in the bathroom. The way a cold and lost look was written in your eyes will forever be embedded in his mind. It wasn’t you who stood standing in front of the mirror with tensed shoulders, hair a mess from sweat and dried blood, the real you was trapped in your mind.
It nearly took all night to bring you back, but not once did he give up.
“Rip,” You softly call his name with an exhausted sigh as you close the door to the stable,
“No. You’re not going!” Blue eyes widening more with fear and rage,
“Yes I am,” You respond in a whisper, “They need me,”
“And we need you here!” I need you here.
It was what he should’ve said, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Wasn’t exactly how he wanted to let you know the truth, wanted to do it the right way, a more intimate, genuine way. But now, he’s out of time. And most likely lost his chance.
He lost you.
“Rip-,” You begin to say but was interrupted by Kacey walking in the stables,
“We’re loaded to fix the fence,” You turn to him before giving him a small nod,
The youngest Dutton switches his gaze from you to the brute man staring intensely at you, knowing then he had walked into something and immediately sensing the tension surrounding the air. He’s felt this mood before, felt tension between you two every so often, but for some reason this time it was stronger, as if one wrong word said would ignite the awaiting flame. So without another word and only a simple nod, he turns to walk away, giving you two privacy. However, you didn’t stick around. Both to just get the day over with and also to postpone the argument.
If you even get a chance to talk about it with him again.
You hear Rip call out to you as you walk out the stables, halting your steps. You glance over your shoulder, meeting his eyes, but no words were said, so instead you let out a sad sigh through your nose as you continue walking out the building. Leaving the brute man alone in the stables with angered thoughts.
*****
Hours had flown by. After fixing the fence, which took nearly the whole day since it was worse than anyone thought, doing daily health checks on the animals, running a quick errand with Beth, everyone was finally able to wash up and spend the remaining hours with you. Everyone sat around the bonfire sharing stories about anything and everything, chatter, laughter and music can be heard in the darkened night.
Empty beer and whiskey bottles, sticks with dried marshmallows and chocolate littered the ground around everyone’s feet. It was a night you’d deeply remember, a night you’d miss, a night you wished would happen every Friday, but you knew it wouldn’t be possible. At least not with you. Not anymore. You tried keeping a strong face, positive thoughts, positive energy, for the sake of everyone around you. They all had high hopes of you coming back home, claiming you’d be home in less than two months because you were tough as a bull, but you knew the truth. The reality of it all.
Obviously you didn’t remind them of the truth, didn’t want to take away the little happiness they held onto for you, the strong faith they had. So all you did was smile at them, raise your glass and down the last bit of your drink. Every so often you’d get lost in your thoughts, thinking of the mission, the serious consequences, the challenges that will come with it, the horror you’ll soon face, but before you can trap yourself in such thoughts they were there to bring you back. Invite you to their conversations, their stories they were sharing, their jokes, which you were thankful for.
What you didn’t notice was the way a pair of blue eyes have been secretly staring at you from across the fire pit. A dark corner where the fire barely illuminated his features. Light or not he didn’t care if he was caught staring at you, everyone was able to read his opinion of the whole situation but no one dared to ask him about it. He was already a fumed bull waiting to be provoked.
There were times where you’d glance up and catch him staring, but not once did you confront him. Making a scene in front of everyone was the last thing you wanted, so you ignored him and his glaring daggers.
Although, at one point during the night, Colby was the one to mention they had ran out of marshmallows, which you volunteered to grab the extra pack from the bunk house. Slightly buzzed you make your way through the Dutton ranch with sluggish steps till you push open the door to the bunks. Walking to the kitchen you grab the new pack of marshmallows sitting on the counter along with another couple chocolate bars. Just as you turn to head back out, your steps come to a stop when you see Rip standing by the couch.
Face emotionless, but eyes dark, red. Was he crying?
“Havin’ fun?” Rip questions, tone cold and firm, yet his blue eyes have another written emotion in them,
You shrug a shoulder, “Tryin’,”
He scoffs, “Yeah I see that.. but it ain’t workin’,”
You knew exactly what he was referring to. The constant lost in thought when the conversation was directed somewhere else. What you didn’t know until now was those same eyes that have been staring at you from the dark were analyzing you throughout the entire night. Watching the way your smile quickly faded as you once again lost yourself in your thoughts, watching the way your fingers peeled off the label from your beer bottle, the way your leg bounced uncontrollably from nerves, fear, and anxiousness. He knew you were afraid, he read you perfectly, but he knew nothing he’d say would change your mind. Not now, not ever.
You were stubborn like a goddamn mule.
“Yeah well, it’s a little hard to have fun when I got two sets of eyes throwing daggers at me all night,” You say, matching his tone as you stare into his eyes,
Heavy tension once again surrounds you two, the muffled music coming from outside was the only thing that can be heard in the room. Neither of you said anything for a good minute or so, just staring at one another with pain written in both your eyes with tears threatening to build. This wasn’t how you wanted to give your farewells to him. Having an argument with him before you left was something you did not want, but yet here you are.
“Can we just..,” You pause, letting out an exhausted sigh before continuing, “Enjoy the rest of the night before I have to catch a flight in a few hours?”
Rip stares deep in your eyes. Hurt, sadness, anger, and fear were written in his blue ones, they were easy to read, especially when he stared at you the way he was staring. He didn’t bother to hide it, yet he didn’t express it to you verbally. Not like he had to or wanted to, it was obvious on how he felt of the whole situation.
“They’re out there celebrating your death..,” He says pointing a long finger at the door then continues with, “.. and I ain’t being apart of it,”
His voice slightly breaks with each word. His blue eyes standing out more when tears begin building, but not one dares to slide down his cheeks, at least not in front of you. Not saying another word, he turns around and heads out the door with a harsh shove that has it banging against the wall.
Whatever string was left holding your heart in place had finally snapped as you watched the door shut behind him. The last memory you’d have of him. This wasn’t how you wanted to leave things with him, he was the only one who could have helped you through it, fought through the dark times, the constant noises in your head. He was the only one who you stayed alive for while you were out in the field, but now that he’s walked away, not wanting any part of it, you didn’t know if it was even worth staying alive once you landed on base. He was your anchor to it all.
And now you’d be stranded in the dark, drowning with nothing to hold you upright. Keep you up float when you felt like sinking, when you felt like the water was too strong for your fighting body. The one person who could’ve saved you from it all was now walking away, leaving you alone.
‘Maybe it was for the best.’
You tell to yourself. You convince yourself. Maybe him not being apart of it, apart of your life would one day guide him to a better life with the love of his life, guide him to someone who can make him happier, stronger, happier.
It was for the best that he left.
*****
4:30 am
Throwing your duffle and backpack in the backseat you shut the door before facing the small crowd. You give everyone a big hug, including the man himself, John Dutton who hugged you for a good long minute before being slightly shoved by Beth who took you in a stronghold as she secretly let the tears fall down her cheeks. You don’t know how, but you kept your own tears from spilling down. Once departing from the woman you go ahead and start hugging the cowboys, sharing a few laughs with them as they joke with you one last time. Which you appreciated their effort in trying to lighten things up, but you knew they knew nothing they can say now will help. But still, you appreciate it.
“So.. who won?” You say when Ryan and Colby stand in front of you,
They both share a look, small smile forming on their lips, “Neither,” Colby says,
You give them a confused look, but Ryan continues with, “We decided to leave it ready for you when you come back,”
Come back. Something you knew was a big word at the moment.
“Can’t have it ready forever,” You say with a sad chuckle,
“We can and we will,” Ryan firmly states, letting you know no one will come near the empty bed unless it’s you,
It was a faint demand from them. They wanted you to come back, no matter how hard it will be, they demanded that you come back to reclaim your bed at the bunkhouse, and that alone brought the ball back in your throat.
“Gonna miss you dorks,” You manage to say before quickly bringing them both for a group hug,
Both men wrap their arms around you, burying their faces in your hair as they cherish the moment. As you go to pull away both their hands on either side of your hip tighten, not wanting the hug to end, but eventually step away from you.
You give them a small smile and then a small wave to everyone huddle in front of you before turning around to climb into the truck where Roscoe patiently waited for you.
“Ready?” The soldier asks as you take one last glance out the window, watching everyone wave at you with saddened smiles, the ranch standing tall and beautifully behind them.
Letting out a small sigh you give him a nod.
In a matter of seconds the truck roars to life before beginning to move down the driveway and out of the Duttons ranch. Silence engulfs the car, only the sound of the radio softly playing in the speakers is heard. Leaning your head against the headrest behind you, you let your mind drift away, thinking about everyone at the ranch, playing their faces in your mind to not forget them, your fingers softly playing with a small deer origami that Tate had made for you last night for good luck. Then thinking about him once again.
Remembering how things were left between you two. Wishing you could’ve fixed things before you left, wished you could’ve said the truth, wished he could’ve have given you the chance to let you show him just how much he meant to you. But he didn’t. None of it happened.
So now, all you’ll think about is What If.
While driving halfway out the ranch and you still being lost in thought, you didn’t capture the moment a large black figure blending in the dark speeding in your direction until the truck comes to an abrupt stop. Causing your seatbelt to lock just in time to catch your body from going forward.
“The fuck?” Roscoe reacts, putting the gear in park as he eyes the figure that is currently blocking his way,
You clench your jaw as you make eye contact with him, even in the dark and with the only source of light from the headlights you both immediately lock eyes.
Of course it’s Rip on top of his horse. Black hat on his head with his black jacket wrapped on his frame.
“I’ll take care of this,” You say, never breaking eye contact with him as you unbuckle yourself and open the door,
“(Y/n) we don’t have time for this,” Roscoe tries arguing back, but you repeat yourself as you hop off the truck,
Shutting the door and standing by it you face him, where he still remained on top of his horse.
“Rip seriously what is your problem? I don’t have time to deal with you right now!” You yell as the brute man climbs off his horse,
A grim look was written on his face as he makes his way towards you. A look he only has when he’s angry about something, and right about now he’s angry at you, you knew that.
“I swear to god Rip if you don’t get out the way I’m gonna-,” Your words were cut off by a pair of rough lips latching onto yours,
Your eyes grow wide in anger, shock, and confusion. But once you feel the way his hand gently cups the side of your face you realize what exactly is happening and only react back. Your own hands finding their way to his face, fingers slowly tangling themselves in his soft, dark curly hair at the base of his neck. A deep, saddened relieved sigh escapes from you two as you both pour the hidden truth into the kiss. Deepening it and cherishing the moment at the same time, neither one wanting or planning to break it off, but you both knew it had to happen, you had to leave.
Which is why Rip got a little selfish for a second, he deepened the kiss, licking his way into your mouth as he held a tight grip on your hip to not let you out of his hold. Just a few more seconds of this, he had to. If this was the only time he would get this opportunity until you came back home, then he was sure as hell he would take every second that was available to have you in his arms, have your lips molding with his, have your fingers tugging on his hair, have your breath fanning his lips, have both your hot tears smear against his own cheeks. He was taking advantage of the moment because he knew it would be more than a month that he would be able to feel it again. Feel this moment again.
Eventually, you both do break the kiss, but not once did he let an inch form between you two. Leaning his forehead against yours, he lets you both catch a breather from the intense, beautiful moment.
“You come back to me you hear?” He whispers, beautiful blue eyes now searching for your own,
When he finally does find your (E/c) eyes that he has grown to love, he whispers once again, “You come home,”
New tears fall down your cheeks at his words, you knew you couldn’t make such a big promise, especially in your line of work. It was a rule, a rule everyone in the military who serves knew they should never make, because they knew reality was always behind that promise.
You stare into those blue eyes of his that have tears of their own, some finding their way down his rough skin, while the rest build at the brim of his eyes. You knew he knew you couldn’t make that promise, but he knew you’d fight for it no matter what, no matter how impossible it might seem, because he knew you always kept your promise. That’s who you were. Loyal, loving, protective, unafraid, and a true fighter.
You stare into his eyes a little longer, feeling the way another tear slides down your cheeks then feeling the rough pad of his thumb gently wiping it away. The words get caught in your throat, the words where you wanted to tell him to be realistic, to not make you promise anything because disappointment and pain is the only thing he’ll receive, but before you can even force them out you hear your name being called from inside the truck.
“We gotta go,” Roscoe softly says, hating to interrupt the moment, hating to part you from the man you clearly love,
You sniff, looking down at the ground then back up to Rip where he only gives you a small smile.
“C’mon,” Rip whispers as he leads you back into the truck,
Once sitting inside, shutting the door, Rip points at the man behind the wheel before saying, “You look after her you hear?”
Roscoe nods at him, “You’ve got my word man,”
Rip nods back before averting his eye to you. You sat there, tears still slowly sliding down your cheeks, you weren’t ready to say goodbye to him, not after you both finally confessed to each other. Which reminds you, you had to say it, in fear of not being able to ever again.
“Rip I-,” You try but he cuts you off with a shake of his head,
“No. Don’t say it. You say it when you come back,” He demands, small smile tugging on the corner of his lips, “Just know I do too,”
I do too.
You sniff once again, tears falling down as you glance behind him, seeing the ranch and the bunkhouse glow in the background. Memories flash in your mind. All those laughs, tears, injuries that you’ve accumulated over the years with everyone who lives and works at the ranch played in your head, reminding you that you had a family to come back to once again, you had friends who were also waiting for you to come back with open arms. You had a life to get back to.
Come back.
Averting your eyes back to his that had tears of their own falling down his cheeks, you stare at him as you remembered, you had him to come back to. He was your main reason to come back home, he was the reason why you weren’t going to die in the field, he was the reason why you weren’t going to give up when shot down, he was the reason why you weren’t going bleed out. He was your reason why you were coming home.
And if anyone tried stopping you from doing so, then it would be the last thing they ever did.
Because you are coming home.
Reaching a hand out the window, you let your small held cup his bearded cheek before letting your own thumb wipe away the tears that fall down. Looking into his eyes with a firm stare, a promise, you let him hear the words.
“I’m coming home,”
—————
-Ahhh It’s Finally Here!!! I’m Not Kidding I Have Been Going Back & Forth With This One. Mostly Because I Had Writers Block, But Also Because I Would Change A Lot Things & Finding New Ideas To Replace The Old Ones.
-But Again! Thank You To Those Who Have Been Patient & Have Been Waiting For This Wheeler Fic! More To Come!!
-Lastly, Make Sure To Turn On Post Notifications!! 🔔 🔔 For More Updates!
—————
Part 2 ?
63 notes · View notes
Text
Daddy's home
Series link
A/n: I have no idea why this took me so long to write. I'll try to release the next 2 parts sooner though.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"He's not gonna hate you." I stand in between Jack's legs as he's sitting on the edge of my bed, playing with his wet hair.
"And if he fucks me up? Are you still gonna say that he doesn't hate me?" He rubs the back of my thighs.
"You're being paranoid." I kiss his head and move away. "Now go put your bag in the car before my dad notices that you slept over. He'll be here in a few minutes."
"Thanks for the heads-up, but I think he'll notice the wet hair." He shoves his things into his overnight bag. "Not to mention that my car is parked in your driveway."
"Your parents live across the street. You'll just say you were there." I pull him outside, grabbing his car keys along the way. "And then you came over, and I realized we have no ingredients for chocolate chip cookies, so we went to get them quickly."
"You really thought everything through, haven't you?"
We reach the car, and he quickly puts his bag inside. As he's closing the door, I jump on his back.
"We don't have time for playing around. He'll be here soon." Jack states as he heads back inside with me on his back.
Time seems to crawl as we wait. It feels like hours, but in reality, it's only about 30 minutes. We keep glancing at the clock, hoping that my dad would show up soon.
We had prepared the place, making sure everything is tidy and presentable. I want to make a good impression, not just for Jack but for myself as well. After all, it's the first time he's visiting me in my first home.
Even though I assured Jack that my father would like him, the nerves in the pit of my stomach grow bigger with each passing second. My dad has always been super protective, and his opinion definitely matters when it comes to who I'm dating.
I'm even more anxious about how he'll act to Jack being 7 years older than me. I mean, I get it. Age differences can raise eyebrows and make people question things, and my dad is most definitely gonna have his concerns about it. But here's the thing, age ain't nothing but a number when it comes to love, right?
I want my dad to see that Jack and I have this amazing connection that goes beyond age. It's about the way he makes me feel, the way he supports me, and the way we understand each other. I hope my dad can look past the numbers and see the real love we share.
He wants the best for me, and he's just trying to protect me. I get that. I just hope he can see that Jack is a good guy, someone who treats me right and respects me.
I just hope that he'll give Jack a chance and see all the wonderful qualities that I see in him. I want him to understand that Jack is not only my partner but also my best friend.
Just as I switch the kettle on, we hear my father's car pulling up outside. I rush to the door, my heart pounding with excitement. Opening the door, I see my father, a warm smile on his face.
"Dad! I missed you!" I embrace him tightly.
"I missed you just at much, my princess." He lifts me up as he hugs me. "The house has been so empty without you."
"Dad, it's only been a few months. I've been gone longer when I was in college." I pull back as he puts me back down on the ground.
Dad's eyes move between living room and the kitchen, nodding with approval. "You did good here. And it smells amazing. Did you bake your famous chocolate chip cookies?"
"You know me too well." I walk out on the patio, calling Jack as he's running around with Ginger. "Bear, my dad's here!"
"Bear." Dad chuckles, rolling his eyes. "I thought you hated it when Melissa called me silly pet names."
"Well, Melissa was my English teacher. She already went over the top when I had to deliver your letters after school. Calling you 'babe' in my presence was just gross." I make a gagging noise.
"I thought she was your favorite teacher." He furrows his brows, tilting his head. "You always ranted on for hours about how intense she spoke about the books you read."
"And you always went on and on about the poems she wrote you. You didn't say much about what was written in them."
"Hey! That's my business, young lady."
Jack enters through the patio door with Ginger right behind him. He smiles nervously as he sees the big, buff man behind me. "Sir, it's great to finally meet you." He leans forward, holding his hand out for my dad to shake.
My dad, on the other hand, is frozen now. His eyes widen, his jaw drops, and his face is slowly turning pale. It's clear to see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out how it's possible that Jack Harlow is standing in front of him. He doesn't even notice Ginger bouncing at his feet.
I place my hand on his arm, shaking him a little. "Dad, this is my boyfriend, Jack. You probably know him already." I let out a nervous chuckle. "And this little girl by your feet is Ginger." I squeeze my Dad's arm the whole time to try and snap him out of his daze. "Jack, this is my dad, Carter Morgan."
My dad finally lifts his hand and shakes Jacks. "It's good to meet you too." He continues shaking Jack's hand viciously, gripping it hard. "This isn't a prank, right?"
Jack, struggling to get his hand away, finally shakes free from my father, "No, sir. This is all real."
"Why don't the 2 of you go sit down while I make coffee?" I push them out of the kitchen.
I watch as they go to sit down across each other. Jack tries to make small talk, seeing that my dad is still stunned. It takes just a while before I join them with the coffee and cookies that I assembled on a floral tray. I take a seat on the floor, Ginger resting in my lap.
"How did you two meet? I've only heard bits and pieces." Dad asks, grabbing 3 cookies from the tray, clearly more comfortable.
I chuckle at his sudden change of mood, "His parents actually live across the street. They're the neighbors who are so kind to me."
"Then I have to meet them." Dad mumbles with a full mouth.
I widen my eyes at him, "Dad! It's not like we're getting married."
"Not yet, anyway." Jack winks at me, causing my face to turn a bright shade of red. "I'll organize something with them for tomorrow night if it's okay with you, sir."
"That sounds like a good idea to me." Dad leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "It sounds like you really have your heart set on my daughter since you want to marry her one day. Did you say that because you mean it or did you say it because you want to please me?"
Jack gulps slightly but tries to keep his charm, "Sir, I really meant what I say. Ever since I met Logan, there wasn't a moment when I hadn't wanted her in my life."
Dad grabs his coffee, growing more serious by the second, "Logan's well-being is my top priority." He takes another cookies and dips it in the coffee, "She's been rambling on about you for weeks, and I can see that she truly cares about you, but I want to make sure you're aware of the potential challenges that come with being in a relationship with a world-famous rapper. Are you prepared for that?"
Jack looks at me before answering, "Sir, I understand where you're coming from. I know being in the public eye can be tough, and I want you to know that I've thought about it. I care deeply about Logan, and I'm willing to face those challenges head-on."
I move up to sit on the couch and look my dad straight in the eyes, "Dad, I appreciate your concern, but Jack and I have talked about this extensively. We're aware of the cons that might come with our relationship, but we believe in each other and our ability to navigate through them. And besides, I'm a grown woman." My voice grows more firm with every word, "You don't have to worry about me anymore."
"I trust your judgment, but I want you both to be fully aware of what you might encounter. Jack, there will be scrutiny, paparazzi, and a lack of privacy. It could put a strain on your relationship."
"You're just trying to cause an argument now." I groan, making my annoyance very clear.
Jack gives me a nod, signaling that he'll do the talking further on. I grab a few cookies and eat them frustratingly in silence. "I understand that it won't be easy. But Logan and I have had conversations about this, and we're committed to supporting each other through any challenges. We're prepared to prioritize our relationship and find ways to maintain our privacy when needed."
Dad's eyebrows raise in surprise, indicating that he didn't expect such a heartfelt and committed response from Jack. His body becomes more relaxed and open, with a warm smile appearing on his face.
"Jack, just remember that Logan is my daughter, and I expect you to treat her with love, respect, and understanding, especially during the tough times."
"Mr. Morgan, I promise you that I'll always treat Logan with the utmost respect and support her through any difficulties." Jack turns his head to look at me. His gaze is warm and comforting, making me feel safe and cherished. I can see the admiration and adoration in his eyes, and it fills my heart with pure joy. "She means the world to me, and I'll do everything in my power to make our relationship thrive."
Tumblr media
"You didn't have to be so hard on him." I walk up the stairs ahead of my dad, helping him carry some of his things.
"He had to know who he's dealing with. He might have shocked me with his identity, but you're still my little girl." He carries the heavy suitcase effortlessly.
We stop at the top of the stairs, and I allow him to take a look around, "That's the bathroom you'll be using, and the laundry room is right next to it." I open the door to the second bedroom of the house. "This is supposed to be a bedroom, but I turned it into a cozy office space so I can get more work done."
"And where will I be sleeping, young missy?" Dad leaves his suitcase by the door, confusion spread over his face.
"That's why I have my friend over here." I place his things on my desk and unfold the sleeper couch. "I figured that there would be situations like these. And it's big enough for someone your size."
"What about pillows and something to cover me up?" He pulls his bag closer.
"Oh, all of that is in the wardrobe over there." I point to the corner of the room while unplugging my laptop so I can take it downstairs with me.
"You really thought of everything, didn't you?" He sits down on the edge of the sleeper couch. "When did my little girl grow up so fast?"
I lean against the desk, folding my arms, "It's like time zoomed by. I can't believe how much things have changed."
"You've grown into such an incredible woman. I couldn't be prouder of the person you've become." His eyes turn red, indicating that the tears aren't far behind.
"Don't cry, Dad!" I walk over to sit next to him, hugging him from the side. "It's all thanks to you. Your love and guidance have shaped me into the person I am today."
I've come to realize that no matter how independent I become, I'll always need my dad. He's my rock. And no matter how far apart we are, I know that he'll always be by my side, supporting me every step of the way.
"I love you, Flower. Today and every day."
"I love you too, Dad. Thank you for being the best father a girl could ask for."
Tumblr media
75 notes · View notes
mysticficti0n · 11 months
Text
All my attention Part 6
Tumblr media
warnings- swearing, drinking, flirting, dirty talk to the max, Degrading but not in a mean way?
words- 3.3k
If you'd like to read the previous parts → All my attention series
a/n- so if you're new here I am British and cannot speak any German, I speak a little French, Spanish and Italian but German- no. I also do not trust Google translate so this is gonna be like an avatar thing (if you've seen the newest one Jake says that their language just became normal or something along those lines) so in reality this is all in German, you as a reader know German but, its wrote in English... make sense? no... well
(also would you guys want me to do smut for this? I don't have to if you don't want it but... I could write some good pieces for the next few chapters?????)
┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑
backstory- you are the 5th member of Tokio Hotel and you always thought the love was equally platonic between you and a certain guitarist... but what if that all changed?
Everyone arrived by 8:50 and were all seated around a extremely large table, each family sat drinking and laughing over different things, on our side of the table (meaning me, Tom, Gustav, Gustav's grandpa, Georg and Bill) we all chatted about random ideas we had for the next shows
"good evening, could we get you all started on food?" a man around my mothers age smiled pulling a note pad out and a pen
"yes can we have-" Stefan schafer, Gustav's dad began pointing to things on the menu and pointing to the people who wanted it "-perfect thank you" the man nodded collecting all the menus in and the chatter began again, me and Tom sat across from our grandmas who were on about something they'd watched on tv
"I'm bored" Tom whispered in my ear causing me to roll my eyes
"we've been here 20 minuets" he sighed falling back into his chair and his grandma seemed to notice turning to him
"Tom- whats wrong darling?" the boy sat properly again and took a swig of his drink
"nothing just hungry" he spoke watching the old women tilt her head "...I'm bored" Catrina nodded looking to me
"you have Y/n/n for company, she's a lot of fun aren't you?" I nodded my head looking to the boy who just laughed "oh actually me and Josie were just saying- we watched your interview! with that hunky man Karter, you two looked delightful, well all of you did" she grinned rubbing my hand over the table
"yeah.." Tom trailed getting comfy again, reaching arm the back of my seat and playing with the ends of my hair "we wont be going back to him in a rush"
"why not?" my gran asked "he's a handsome man"
"nothing to worry about Nanna" I spoke smiling to her, she can become a very angry women if she found out someone did anything bad to us, she'd personally hunt them down if she could.
Time passed slowly but the smell of food only made us hungrier, Toms hand had moved from my hair to my shoulder drawing a circle over and over
"and here we are-" the same waiter came over with two others holding trays of food, there was 21 of us.. we all sat straight and the small laughter of my sister caused us all to laugh, I had the pesto tortellini with Parmesan, and many also copied me
"thank you" we all said starting our meal, I dug my fork in and bought the steamy pasta to my mouth "oh wow thats amazing" I hummed putting more onto the fork, Tom looked over then to the bowl and back to me "you chose to have the chicken Schnitzel, I said about this"
"oh please!" he moaned "one bite- you can have some chips" he quickly stabbed his fork into the fries and brought them to me "come on"
"fine" I gave into his ways and took the chips and past him my fork with the pasta on the end, he hummed a quick thank you and smiled tasting the food "good right?" Tom nodded swallowing the pasta, I turned back to eating and listening to the different conversations around the table
"you know I was thinking about something" Bill began looking down to us on the table "a tv show, like filming while in rehearsals and we could go round during tours and trying things... Felix said about it" The idea of being filmed 24/7 didn't sound fantastic, I enjoy my privacy but.. if that means we get to do fun stuff..
"who'd wanna watch us though, outside of music were just boring" Gustav added "you could do a documentary about every girl Toms fucked" Gustav's mom slammed his hand making us all laugh
"at least they'd say they came unlike the girls you've done" Tom hit back making the drummer huff "but I like the idea-" Georg nodded as well but I still sat undecided
┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑
(okay I cba to write about the restaurant but lets say, lovely meal hugs kisses etc)
"Oh why don't we go to that bar" Simone pointed out, the bars name was naughty lad and music was booming through the walls, the boys seemed intrigued looking through the steamed windows
"I think we'll head back with the grandparents, Stella is nearly asleep so could you bring Y/n back?" my mom asked passing my sister to my dad
"sure, we'll keep her safe don't worry" David, Georg's dad spoke wrapping an arm around me "you get home and relax" with a quick hug my parents got into the car and drove away leaving me with the boys and their parents which wasn't unusual, having a younger sister makes life harder to always enjoy. Together we all walked into the bar and 'hot in here' by Nelly was blasting through the speakers
"drinks?" Bill asked pulling his wallet out "Guessing a vodka coke for you?" I laughed seeing Bill roll his eyes "you need to try more- I'm getting you something else"
"Get me whatever she has!" Tom shouted to his brother who nodded walking to the rest of the group who found themselves sat at a booth "wanna smoke quickly?" I agreed feeling his hand wrap around my wrist and pull me back out the door, he went into his pocket pulling his cigarets out and handing me one with his lighter
"thank you" I chirped lighting the end and then his "I can't get over you tonight" I spoke catching myself at the end
"its alright babe, you can take it off me later" his voice turned suggestive and a smirk plastered his face "aww turning red aren't you?" his free hand cupped my jaw and I felt my knees go weak at his touch- what was he doing
"shut up-" I groaned pushing him away jokingly "I was trying to be nice and say you look good" Toms face softened and nodded along to my words
"I know, but I just love making you all red for me" he cooed putting a hand on my waist "it makes you even more beautiful" Tom leaned in, my heart started pounding in my chest, is this what he meant by being 'worse' I knew I wanted to kiss him again as he closed the distance between us, our lips just inches apart, he hesitated. With a sly grin, he pulled back, leaving the me confused "don't want to be caught do we?" I narrowed my eyes seeing him chuckle "aw did you want me to kiss you Y/n?"
"its okay, I'll find someone in there who will" his face dropped and his grip on my only tightened "maybe I'll bring them home with us?"
"mhm... I don't think so-" The boy was cut by the long haired bassist peaking his head around the door "what?"
"drinks are here" he pulled the door open wider and the two let me in first, I pushed past people dancing along to the music and trying not to get any type of liquid on my dress, finally the booth came into view and Bill sat smiling reaching for my hand I took it and he pulled me next to him
"okay drink this first then I'll tell you what it is" he shouted over the music, I turned to the drink and saw it was a radioactive green with a yellow hue, I picked up the champagne coup and brought it to my lips taking a sip
"Ugh What the fuck is that!" I called nearly heaving at the taste of something like black liquorish
"Death In The Afternoon! I thought you'd like it!" a smile creeped onto his face as he took the glass and finished it "let me get you another one!" The boy pleaded
"come on Y/n don't be boring!" Gustav laughed swigging his arm around me
"fine but I don't want that shit ever again" soon I watched the tallest twin wonder to the bar and point to something on the menu clapping his hands as the bar man turned away "oh- whats that?" I asked seeing the black haired boy smirking holding a small glass fully yellow but with some red falling into the glass, speaking of the glass it had a slice of lemon and mint dotted on top
"this is a Mai Tai" Bill said handing me the drink and watched me as I sipped at the liquid, I hummed at the taste of Malibu and orange running down my throat
"wow this is good" I drank more seeing the singer do a small dance knowing he'd defeated my 'vodka coke' love
┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑
I sat in the booth wedged between Simone and Bill who were laughing about something stupid and I was on my 5th mai tai giggling when something funny was mentioned, I wasn't drunk but I was tipsy, I saw Simone leave the conversation and look to the dance floor "OH MY GOD!" She got up running to the floor pulling me along with her
"SIMO-" I began but then I herd it 'don't stop the music' by Rihanna start to play, ever since the song came out earlier in the year me and her loved it, we danced around with large smiles painted across our faces "I wanna take you away Let's escape into the music DJ, let it play I just can't refuse it" Simone grabbed my hand spinning me around while still belting out the lyrics "Please don't stop the music!" we finished laughing loudly and sweat running down our foreheads I looked to the booth to see them all clapping at our stupidness we took a bow and Simone went to sit down next to her boyfriend who she wrapped her arms around and kissed making her sons cringe and I decided id go sit next to Tom- we'd barley spoke since we had that smoke out side, he was sat holding a glass of clear liquid and rolling his eyes over at his brother
"hey!" I called sliding myself next to him in the booth
"hi- you okay?" I nodded my head grabbing my drink of the table and In a quick swig finishing It off "you might wanna slow down on them" the boy laughed pulling my empty glass from me but I couldn't understand a word as the music got louder around me
"what? I didn't hear you!" he rolled his eyes but quickly moved closer, the arm around my shoulder moved to hold my bare thigh as he leaned into my ear
"I said, you might wanna slow down on the mai tai" his fingers tapped on my skin causing a odd sensation I'd never felt before shiver up my body, they danced on my leg edging to go just slightly under my skirt but he stopped everytime
"oh-oh yeah... well wanna go to the bar and help me chose something different?" Tom nodded and the two of us stood back up, he grabbed my hand, closing his fingers tightly around mine and pulled me through the crowd, yanking me when I stopped, as we got to the bar he pulled me a bar stool out making me sit in front of him while he stood close behind, his stomach on my back and his one hand on my waist
"you like the fruitier cocktails right?" I nodded my head looking at the menu and something caught my eye- The Blue Hawaii, rum, vodka Blue curacao, pineapple juice and Lemon juice
"I think I want the blue Hawaii!" I looked back to the dreaded boy who nodded his head pulling his wallet out "no Tom, let me pay!" I hurried into my purse to grab the €10 I needed
"Y/n fuck off, I'm buying me and drink and you one- put the money away" he huffed grabbing my money and shoving it back into the bag "let me treat you babe" my heart ached at the words and so I let him do what he wanted and I just leaned back on him and waited to be served. The bartender finally turned to us and grabbed a bottle of something "erm can we have a blue Hawaii and a vodka cranberry, thanks" Tom handed the money over me, his chest pressing on me and his other hand back on my thighs for support
"be 5 mins" the man behind the counter said before walking off to the other side of the bar
"I need a piss, stay here don't move alright?" Tom commanded, quickly patting my head like I was some kind of dog and running to the bathroom, I sat kicking my legs watching others conversations and giggling to who ever they're with
"hey.. anyone sitting here?" I turned to a voice I'd never herd before and saw a man stood there holding a empty glass
"no! you can sit don't worry" a small laugh left him and he perched onto the chair and I finally got to see his face, He's very good looking, I couldn't help but admire his features. something about him that made him stand out from the rest, his black hair and brown eyes. His hair is perfectly styled in little waves along his head, and it shines in the light. I found myself staring to his smile. It's warm and inviting, i can't help but smile back. It's infectious.
"thanks, I'm Brandon- thought I'd introduce myself so I'm not creepy" I laugh at him as I turn to speak to him better
"oh I'm Y/n, my seat will be free soon once me and my mate have our drinks" I spoke still just admiring him, it might've been the alcohol but he was gorgeous
"shame, I'm enjoying this- little old me speaking to a beautiful girl.. I say old- I'm not I'm 19, you?"" I blushed to his words
"oh 17 but I get mixed up with being either 23 or 13 most days" he chuckled at my comment
"where you from anyways?"
"Leipzig, you?" he nodded his head
"Dresden" we kept speaking till mine and Tom's drinks arrived and I quickly grabbed them "so who are you here with?"
"just my friends and some family- celebrating coming home- actually my friend should be here soon" I looked back and I saw Tom staring at me with a scowl across his face "oh erm, he's over there so I might see you later?" I smiled grabbing the drinks off the table
"yeah sure, maybe I can get your number and we could go out for drinks?" he sounded so sweet and eyes bright with hope, but I knew I had to be careful giving my number out for security reasons and also I think Tom would kill me
"maybe yeah!" I laughed it off as I walked over to he boy who looked through me to Brandon, crossing his arms "how long were you stood watching me?" I asked passing him his drink
"long enough" his seriousness scared me, what was his issue "he really liked you didn't he? eyes wondered you like a fucking map" he spat gulping his drink basically in one
"Tom I think you're being a bit dramatic, he didn't even flirt with me" it was a partial lie as he did ask for my number...
"still-" I saw the guitarist sulk a little sipping the last of his drink and staring into the distance and that when I realised it
"are... are you jealous?" his eyes shot up to me but he didn't fight my words, and I wanted to keep pushing him "come on, you can tell me" I fluttered my eyelashes at the boy who just looked away, without thinking my hand reached for his jaw and brought his gaze back to me, I was shocked with myself but I couldn't lose my control now "look at me when I'm talking to you" I spoke closer to him in a low whisper, his eyes seemed deeper and narrower, I was doing it "you don't like it when I speak to other guys hm? don't like them looking at me, thinking of me...touching me" I let the last words roll of my tongue and I could see behind his stare he was getting angrier "talk to me pretty boy"
My hand was swatted from his face as Tom pulled me by my wrist back into the cubicles, each small individual rooms with a crappy dim light glaring into the room, hurriedly we went to the first unlocked block and slammed the door closed and he locked it with a click, my back pressed against the cold tile wall and Tom stood over me I close my eyes as his lips press against mine. His hands moved around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he wrapped his arms around me. His lips soft and perfect, his breath warm on my skin. I can feel my heart racing as we move together, our bodies intertwined. His hands move higher, caressing my back as we kiss. I can feel my skin tingling with anticipation as I move my hands up his chest, exploring his body. I can feel the electricity between us, the passion rising.
"You- you are a little cunt sometimes" I feel him smile into my cheek pressing kisses into my skin "but.. fuck we both know you'd never want them...as much as you want me" I hold my breath at the feeling of him humming into my ear, my arms tangle around his neck pulling him back to my lips "god you are so desperate for me" I pull back slightly opening my eyes and seeing a smirk plastering his face
"who's the one that dragged me into here?" he tilted his head in agreement but I could wait any longer, our lips smashed back together and our bodies collided once again, hungrily I moved down to his jaw peppering the line with kisses and edged down to his neck, my lips danced around until I reached just below his ear and his grip on me tightened and a noise threatened to escape his throat, I dove back into the spot sucking and pecking at it, hearing him struggle and try pry me off
"fuck Y/n- please" he begged "shit... I-I" his stuttering made my heart swell and I pulled away to see small beads of sweat forming, I looked to his eyes and they were full of glazed tears of lust
"aw- I'm sorry, didn't you like it?" I played with a strand of his hair as he shook his head no
"I fucking loved it" his lips landed back on me as he groaned into the kiss, I smiled feeling his hands go under my thighs and lift me onto his hips, my dress pushing up revealing the red panties I put on earlier "shit you are so hot" the boy whined kissing my chest, nibbling lightly at the skin
"ah- Tom" His eyes caught mine again and smile only spread further, my hands grabbed his shoulders pushing myself up and he only toyed with me more, licking my skin that was sore from being between his teeth and small noises seeped from my mouth only pushing him further "shit... Fuck Tommy- I..." his nickname came out so naturally but in the sluttiest moan I'd ever done
" God Y/n, I don't what the first place we fuck to be in a bathroom baby, so keep that pretty little mouth quiet because you're making it so hard to keep that from happening" my heart nearly exploded out my chest, I went like putty, foreheads knocking together at his words, Tom caught my lips In one last sweet kiss and put me back onto the floor "so beautiful-" Tom whispered into my ear one last time before pulling away still holding my waist
"only for you" I smiled kissing him once more again before we stood there holding each other panting and puffy lipped
225 notes · View notes
thebiggerbear · 6 months
Text
WIP Wednesday - Multi-Character x Reader - 11/15/23
Alright I'm kicking myself in the buttocks because it's taking me so long to complete this project along with updates for three other stories I have open as well before starting to post for my SB story and DW short story (this is how this story came about btw, got too long for the prompt, same with an upcoming Alec short story and Tom short story), but I have two multi-character prompt responses in the works (for the past month I want to say) that have been at the forefront of my brain. It's been a ton of fun, just time consuming, and RL is also kicking me in the behind as well (so I'm sorry, I promise I will update, I'm still working on everything I have listed along with things not listed yet). The following serves as a sampling if you will of what's contained in one or the other:
<-->
Soldier Boy:
Tumblr media
Soldier Boy stared you down. “What’s it gonna be?”
You didn’t answer. Instead, you glanced behind you at a small noise far off down the street. Thankfully, it was an old woman tossing something out onto the pavement, but you couldn’t deny it put you further on edge. You turned back to the Supe whose eyes stayed trained on you. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves and readied your response. His lips began to quirk upwards into a smile; he knew what your answer was going to be before you even said the words.
Full work here
<-->
Beau Arlen:
Tumblr media
He nodded and, after a moment, he reached out a hand.
You snorted in disbelief. “Really?”
Beau didn’t say anything, only moved his hand in a come hither motion, holding it out for you to take.
You let out an angry sigh and rolled your eyes, but moved forward to place your hand in his nonetheless. He pulled you to him, framed your face with his hands, and softly kissed you. You refused to kiss him back but ultimately, like always, you lost the battle and gave in, gently grasping one of his wrists as you did. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered to your lips.
Full work here
<-->
Dean Winchester:
Tumblr media
You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned down to kiss him. You felt him immediately begin to relax under your touch and only when his lips were completely pliant and moving with yours did you pull back, staring into his green eyes.
“Why couldn’t you just tell me that?”
He slid his hand up your back and to your hair, tenderly rubbing the strands between his fingers. “I don’t know. I just… That vamp had you in a hold and it scared the crap out of me when I couldn’t reach you fast enough. What if he had gotten more of a drop on you? What if—”
You gently placed your fingers against his lips, stopping him from finishing that question.
Full work here
<-->
Jenny Hoyt:
Tumblr media
As expected, Jenny was pissed. Poppernak and the other deputies took their assignments and ran, eager to get away from the explosion that was about to happen. Nora even timidly told the blonde she’d see her over by her desk when she was ready before escaping as well. In the time all of this took, the blonde’s glare hadn’t lessened any.
You crossed your arms. “Something on your mind, Hoyt?”
She slowly approached you, leaning in slightly. “I’d like a word,” she growled out menacingly before passing you by.
Your jaw tightened but you spun around and followed her to your office. She held the door open for you and you slipped inside, already turning to face her head on. Beau had warned you that she’d be your toughest opposition when you agreed to take this job on; seeing her ice chips for eyes staring you down right now, Beau didn’t know the half of it.
Full work here
<-->
Tom Hanniger:
Tumblr media
He pulled a knife out of his jacket which made your heart start to pound a little faster but he simply smiled as he also produced a plastic fork. He leaned down and began to cut your chicken into bite size pieces for you. “I, uh, I’ve never made chicken marsala before so I hope it’s alright,” he told you, a shy smile on his face. You marveled how he could go from being the scariest thing you’d seen in your life one minute to being the sweetest and most humble guy you’d ever met in the next. “And I know you’re not a fan of green beans but I didn’t really have anything else.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.
“I’m okay with green beans,” you quietly assured him.
He dropped his hand and smiled, leaning in to tenderly kiss you.
Full work here
<-->
Jason Teague:
Tumblr media
“Gee, I don’t know,” you teased. “I’m supposed to be meeting this guy I’m seeing for a quick lunch before he has class in about an hour. And I need to swing by my house first, so that might be kind of cutting it close.”
Coach Teague furrowed his brows as he considered your words. “You’re right, that is kind of cutting it close. Any chance that this guy that you’re seeing is good-looking? You know, to make it worth the trouble?”
You pretended to think over it for a moment and then shrugged a shoulder. ”He’s…fairly handsome, I guess.”
His jaw dropped. “Fairly? Really? That’s—” Jason quickly glanced around as you snickered behind your hand. He saw that there were still a couple of students in the hallway. He quietly cleared his throat and Coach Teague was immediately back in place. “Well, be that as it may, I only need a moment of your time and then you’re free to go meet this guy who sounds way more good-looking than you’re giving him credit for.” He ignored your grin and gestured over your shoulder. You turned to see the door to his office. He opened it and held out a hand towards the office in open invitation. “After you, Miss Y/L/N.”
“Sure thing, Coach,” you quipped. You stepped inside, hearing him mutter under his breath, “fairly handsome” followed by a scoff as you passed right by him. You bit your lip to keep from laughing.
Full work here
<-->
There are a few other characters mixed into these two prompt responses but those aren't ready for sampling yet so to speak. (*hint*: they'll most likely be characters featured on the character portion of the masterlist ;) ) I'm going to try to get these up as soon as I can since I'm almost more than halfway done.
Please let me know what you guys think and which ones you're most looking forward to reading.
105 notes · View notes
kitkatscabinet · 2 years
Text
Help is on the way
Tumblr media
Requested prompt: You’re gonna be fine. just stay awake for a little longer, help’s already on its way
Pairing: Will Halstead x reader
Genre: angst
Warnings: blood, injury, near death, gun violence
Word count: 1.2K
When one ran into burning buildings for a living there was always the expectation of the occasional injury or close call. You and Will had gone through a humble amount of said occurrences in your time together, that was how you had met. A concussion received from not making it far away from an explosion caused by a sudden flash over.
From the moment he’d shone a flashlight into your pupils you’d been smitten, a fact concussed you had been all too happy to admit. Since then you’d become more cautious, and had promised to always make it back home to him. That didn’t stop him from worrying, he always would but you had promised and you had yet to break it.
The universe it seemed had different plans, but against all expectations it is not on the job when you come close to breaking your promise. It had been your turn to pick Will up after work, having had an off shift and less likely to fall asleep behind the wheel. Your perpetual and stingy laziness had lead to the fuel light appearing on the dash during the drive, leading you to reluctantly pull into the mostly empty gas station.
The clock reads 1:38am and you force Will to stay in the car, to which he only weakly protests. You lean over to kiss him on the forehead, smiling as you promise to be super quick. Another promise to be broken.
Stifling a yawn you make your way into the luminescently lit building to pay, grumbling all the while about the ridiculous price. The bell above the door rings to signal your arrival as you walk with your gaze focused on the floor in annoyance to the counter. You only make it a few steps before an angry voice is demanding you stop. You open your mouth to fire back at whatever jackass had so rudely yelled at you when your tongue suddenly feels like sandpaper. Every other noise is drowned out and your hands slowly raise themselves instinctively as you find yourself staring down the barrel of a gun.
Negotiating with criminals, patients, psychos and more was actually something you were generally incredibly good at. Yet as you take in the dead clerk behind the counter and the thief’s bloodshot and crazed eyes you already know. You are not walking out of this building alive. Terror seizes your heart, but not for yourself, for the oblivious Will you had left in the car. You stay silent as tears build in your eyes and you find yourself praying to every possible deity that he doesn’t notice Will, won’t hurt him in his escape.
“I won’t tell anyone” you whisper feebly, hands beginning to shake as the man stalked closer aggressively. "Please I-"
"Shut up!" he yelled, waving the gun around manically and drawing a whimper from your throat. "Fuck" he shouts, hands clutching at his head as his eyes wildly trail around the empty store. You don't dare speak or move and the next seconds pass by like molasses. To your surprise he simply pushes past you, shoving you into the nearest shelf and sending you sprawling amongst bags of chips and chocolate.
Just as you think you've made it out unscathed your phone decided to betray you in the ultimate cliche. Scrambling to turn off your alarm you don't notice the thief turning from his escape. Seeing you reaching for your phone, presumably to call the cops, he pulled the trigger.
The noise registers well before the pain does, the crack echoing through the small space. Looking up in shock you manage to witness the back of the criminal's head as he takes off in a sprint. Shakily you attempt to get to your feet, to get to Will. It isn't until you reach for your phone, alarm still blaring that you notice the intense searing pain radiating near her right shoulder. Looking down you immediately see the dark red liquid spreading across across the material of your shirt.
You don't register the movement of your left hand either until you are pulling your fingertips away and see the sticky crimson coating them. Faintly you think you hear your name being called just as your legs give way and you meet the linoleum floor.
Tumblr media
Will had been about to head in to see what was taking you so long when what sounded alarmingly like a gunshot echoed through the empty lot. His hand freezes on the car door handle and he watches with detached horror as a figure in a hoodie sprinted away.
He throws the car door open so forcefully that it rebounds and slams into his person. Will doesn't feel it, doesn't even breathe until he bursts through the small station's door. A choked sob escapes his throat as he attempts to call your name, feet moving once more as he watches your body tilt towards the floor.
"No, no, no, no" he mumbles, hands pressing at the wound in an attempt to staunch the heavy blood flow. One slippery hand fumbles for his phone, the blood sliding over the screen and delaying his call for help. The other has wadded up his jacket, pushing it against your collarbone as he frantically yells at you to open your eyes. As he is barking down orders over the phone to dispatch his eyes never leave your form. From the wadded up jacket against you upper chest, that is soaking up the blood far too quickly and dripping down and contributing to the scarlet pool, to the terrifying pallor of your skin.
"Will" you mumble hoarsely, eyelids flickering in an attempt to stay open, "hurts."
"I know baby, I know, but you’re gonna be fine. Just stay awake for a little longer, help’s already on its way. Just a few more minutes, please." The only response he gets is a pained whimper that makes way for a sob of your own.
The minutes that pass until the ambulance arrives feel like hours, you fall in and out of consciousness several times during the eight minutes it takes. The sweat that had built up on his brow causing your baby hairs to stick to your face, an action that had him absentmindedly attempting to wipe them away and accidentally staining your face with your own blood. There is so much blood that Will feels as if he is drowning in it, the thick liquid is covering the floor, your neck and torso and has slowly but surely drenched his hands and clothes. He tries to keep a level head, knows you haven't lost enough blood to be written off, he knows your chances of survival are far higher than a large portion of the patients he sees with the same types of injury. This does nothing to alleviate his terror, nor does it stop the slew of worst-case scenarios that assault his mind.
He vaguely recognises the paramedics that arrive on scene, but from the moment he is forcefully pulled away from your form his mind devolves into a haze. He barely remembers the ride to the hospital, doesn't notice Maggie sidle up to him and pull him away, all he can see is your bloodstained form being wheeled away. Away from him, your fate completely out of his hands.
693 notes · View notes
cowboylor · 1 year
Text
taking up your mouth
Tumblr media
you and matty have a mid-show ritual.
wc: 1.4k
warnings: (18+) smut, oral (m. receiving), semi-public sex, light degradation, underlying dom/sub dynamics, saliva also feels like a warning
note: this is basically sloppy’s twin sister. but on crack. the cocaine kind. ok bye guys.
For the first part of every show, you always pick at your nails and nurse a drink. Every crew member had their own concert rituals and they were yours. But usually by the third song you’re too wound up and the picking becomes more erratic to the point where you’re chipping away at your cuticles and the cup in your hand starts to empty.
You’ve never been sure what to do with your hands when you’re not working. When you don’t have hair to touch up or pleated pants to smooth out before they go on stage.
But you can’t help it. You get utterly restless when you watch him from the wing.
Watching Matty on stage is a love hate-relationship; it practically fills you with every emotion possible. 
The rest of the band is already off stage, quickly passing through your section before making their way to the main wardrobe department. You fiddle with your nails again, shifting on your feet as you watch him from the side.
When he’s finally off the main stage butterflies are in your stomach. It’s embarrassing how high school you feel when you look at him – with his disheveled hair and his blown-out expression from the first half of his show. With his chest heaving from the culmination of everything. You’re sure its a feeling unlike any other.
And speaking of everyone’s own personal concert rituals–
His eyes dart around before he sees you, and then when he does he’s rushing towards you. He ignores the towel one of the roadies offers him and waves off another to make it clear that he wants no one to follow him. 
Before Matty can even reach you he’s already ushering you backward, past the corridor before backing you into the corner of the vacant tech area. You pull on his belt, whining into his mouth when he harshly crashes his lips into yours.
Privacy was minimal but it was enough for both of you.
You break away from him to rest your chin on his shoulder, peering behind him to make sure no one can see you. He takes the opportunity to nip down your neck, pressing hard kisses against your skin until he reaches your collarbone and bites down to make you whimper. 
“You only have four minutes,” You remind him breathlessly.
Your grip on his shoulder tightens as he spares another bite on your chest. It was all time could afford before he moves away from your neck. 
“I know that,” He says gruffly, pushing your head with his hand. 
Your lower stomach heats at the way he guides you down, with your knees hitting the floor and your eyes becoming level with his crotch. You glance up at him, pupils blown just by looking at his tousled hair and heaving chest high on the adrenaline of a show. He stares back at you, his eye contact not breaking while he fumbles with the buckle of his belt. 
“But we always manage, yeah?”
But it’s never exactly you that manages. It’s Matty who grabs you by the root of your hair and brings your mouth down on his cock. He’s the one who sets the pace. One that you’re happy to indulge him in.
Your lips stretch around him as he parts your mouth. The corners of his mouth quirked up at the sight of you. 
“Like that?” He asks.
You nod. 
Your moan is muffled when he fucks into your mouth once with an experimental thrust. 
“Good,” He says, his fingers threading through your hair. Then as an afterthought adds, “Gonna make you love it.”
Your nails dig into his clothed thigh as you steady yourself, peering up at him the best you can while he ruts into your mouth. When he hits the back of your throat you gag and inhale sharply through your nose. His pace is sloppy, quick, and you can’t bring yourself to dislike it. 
You want him to come. You want him to get off with you. 
“Fucking look at you,” He chuckles but you don’t miss that it sounds pitched like he’s holding back a moan every time you take him deeper. “You’re fucking made for me.”
You can’t find enough dignity to disagree.
Because he’s adamant about bucking his hips, you compromise to just let him meet your mouth halfway. 
The bright tattoo just below his sternum commands your attention and you trace your fingertips down the design. His muscles contract every time he juts forward but they tense up even more when you hollow your cheeks around him. This combined with your ghost-like touch on his stomach makes his whole body go rigid. 
His hips fall out of rhythm and you quickly turn to bob your head up and down at your own speed. Sucking and hollowing your lips around him that it elicits a groan that has you pressing your thighs together. 
“Keep doing that, yeah?”
It takes you a second to know that he’s referring to your scratches down his stomach, but you’re eager to indulge his request. You drag your fingertips down until you reach his lower stomach, practically tracing the base of his cock with how low your hands wander. 
The tug on your hair lets you know he’s close – if you didn’t already know from the way his breathing grew more ragged and now he’s throwing his head back whenever you pay attention to his tip. 
But your lips feel swollen. So you slide your mouth off his length to look up at him: “You’re close.”
It’s not a question. You know his body well enough to know when he’s about to climax.
Just how Matty knows yours when your legs are hitched over his shoulders and you’re about to come. Or when you ride him and the way he keeps a tight grip on your hips when he’s edging you on. I mean, you can practically hear the: ‘Gonna let me have it, love?’
Saliva connects you and him, with it running down the base of your chin as you quickly pump him in your hand. 
“Put me in your mouth, love,” Matty almost begs, but he doesn’t need to because your lips are already parting around his cock. Some of his curls cling to his forehead and you wonder if it’s because of you or his performance. “Need to come in your mouth.”
You inhale deeply through your nose again as his hips start to stutter and his eyes screw shut. Your scalp stings when his grip returns to your hair, moaning when he tilts your head back so he can see you. 
Gazing up at him, you bat your lashes as if to playfully communicate some unspoken thing between you two. How this will always be your game. And the sight of you on your knees with his cock in your mouth will always be enough to push him over the edge.
Swallowing, you draw him back into your mouth until his hips stop jerking and his bare chest rises at a steadier rate. 
You make a show out of resting your tongue under his tip so he keeps watching you. And he does. Sighing out heavily and muttering curses when it dawns on him that your time is practically up. 
So instead, you work on his pants while he fumbles with his buckle because you are a professional first and foremost. Faint chords can be heard from the wing and you start to panic, jumping up from the floor (with bruised knees and all) and brushing down his curls in a hurry. 
Matty doesn’t seem concerned with the mere seconds he has left, letting you fuss over his appearance as he watches you with some sort of amusement.
“You may be my favorite part of this,” He says, before pressing a chaste kiss under your jaw. 
It greatly contrasts the way he was in your mouth just moments ago and you have the audacity to grow warm in the face at the simple gesture. He seems to notice but he doesn’t say anything. He just grins before turning on his heel to rush to the other side of the setup. 
You watch him hastily leave but then turn to press your forehead against the wall, letting out your own heavy sigh of adrenaline. 
Wiping the excess spit from your chin, you know for sure you’re done for. 
771 notes · View notes
specialagentlokitty · 4 months
Text
Negan x reader - just a day
Tumblr media
HI!!! love your work!! Never done this before. Saw your request just now. I want Negan fluff with wife reader. Like they are taking a day off and just chilling together, and Negan told everyone not to disturb them unless they want to die. That's all I got, sorry it's not very creative🙇🏼‍♀️🙇🏼‍♀️. - Anon💜
Standing outside, you basked in the warm sunlight, enjoying the way it felt, with a slight cool breeze.
Despite the growls of the walkers chained to the front of the building, it was still rather peaceful in a strange way.
You saw a few guards posted around the area, some workers going about their daily lives like they did every day.
You didn’t mind being at the sanctuary most days, but some days, like today, you were restless, you wanted to go for a walk, so that’s what you were doing.
Gun on your back, you made your way to the exit of the sanctuary only to be stopped by a couple of guards.
“Sorry ma’am, we’re under orders not to let you leave the premises without an official security detail.” One said.
“Negan?”
She nodded her head and you huffed a little.
“Well, I can’t find him, and I want to go for a walk, so am gonna go for a walk.”
“We can’t let you past.”
You groaned in annoyance.
You knew it wasn’t worth trying to sneak past them, they were just going to end up following you and that would ruin the whole point of a peaceful walk.
So, instead, you turned back around, sitting on the hood of one of the parked cars, resting your back against the windshield.
“Negan wants to see you.” Dwight said.
You didn’t bother moving from your spot.
You held out your hand for his walkie, and he handed it over to you.
You pressed your finger on the button before speaking.
“Negan?”
You let go and waited for a response.
“Well it took Dwighty boy long enough to find you. Where are you (Y/N)?”
You thought for a moment, debating on what you wanted to tell him.
“Come and find me.”
You smirked a little to yourself, handing the walkie talkie back to Dwight despite the man on the other end asking where you were.
“Are you gonna tell him?”
“You know I have to, sorry.”
“Come on, there’s no fun in that Dwight, let him ponder, maybe it’ll deflate his fat ego a little bit.”
Dwight chuckled a little, leaning against the car as he lit a cigarette.
“You know the moment you go back inside I’m going to find a new place to hide.”
“You know he doesn’t like it when you play that game.”
You took a deep breath, and shrugged a little bit.
“Yeah, but I do. It’s funny. So, see ya later pal.”
You quickly grabbed the handcuffs you hid your jacket and locked him to the handle of the car, dropping the keys a few feet in front of him.
You snickered and ran away from him, taking his Walkie Talkie with you just so you could keep tabs on where Negan would be looking for you.
It was easy enough to sneak back into the building, but you had no intentions of hiding inside, there was one spot you had to reach before you were caught.
“(Y/N) you know I’m gonna find you.”
You snickered again, pressing the button.
“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. Do we have chips?”
“Come back and I’ll tell you.”
You found the door you were looking for and pushed it open, quietly closing it behind you.
Walking to the middle of the roof you laid down, setting the walkie and gun beside you.
You closed your eyes, basking in the sun again.
Up here was more peaceful, no people, no walkers, just you, and the sound of the door creaking open, something being dropped on the ground, being kicked into place, the door shutting but not closing fully.
Then steps walking over, along with the oh so familiar whistle.
You opened your eyes, watching as he finally came into view, setting Lucille down next to your gun, and a bowl next to your head.
Negan crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees.
“You know I know that you always come here.”
“Well obviously that’s the point.”
He chuckled, reaching down he placed a finger on your forehead.
“You know why I can’t let you go outside the sanctuary without guards either, don’t you? Because if Rick the prick and his little band of dickwads find you they’ll take you.”
“Come on Negan, you know I don’t like the guards you put with me, they’re load, and always complain.”
“It is a necessary precaution.”
You sat up, turning yourself around to look at him, and you picked up the bowl of chips he had given you.
“I want to go for a walk.”
“Then let me assign you some protection.”
You set the chips down, reaching your hands out and Negan let you take his hands.
“I want to go with you.”
“Now, sweetheart, you know I’m busy, with everything that’s going on I can’t afford to take a days break.”
You sighed a little, nodding your head because you knew he was right.
He was trying to make sure that no matter what happened he would win.
“I know…”
You stood up, picking up your gun you slung it over your back, and you grabbed your bowl of chips.
“You probably should give that back to Dwight.”
“Come on sweetheart, you’re pissed at me? Seriously?”
You didn’t say anything and Negan quickly got up, jogging over he wrapped an arm around your waist, making you stop.
Negan pulled your back against his chest, and he reached into the bowl, taking the last chip and eating it.
You didn’t say anything, and he took the bowl, throwing it like a frisbee off the roof.
“Negan come on, seriously? This is why we can’t have nice shit.”
He chuckled, humming a little bit.
“Are you really gonna be pissed off with me because I won’t let you go for a walk alone?”
You didn’t say anything, but you did bring a hand up behind you, running your fingers through the hair on the back of his head.
Negan buried his face into the crook of your neck, pressing a couple of small kisses to your skin.
“Come on, don’t be pissed.”
You rested your head on his.
“Sweetheart, this is for your own safety. You know this, you know why I have those rules in place, why u do what I do. It’s to keep you safe, because the prick will use you to get to me.”
“Then come with Negan, please. Come on.”
You felt him sigh.
You pat his hand, telling him to let you go, and he did, watching as you made your way back to the door.
“(Y/N)!” He called.
You were gone, making your way back down the stairs.
Negan clenched his jaw a little, walking back he grabbed the walkie and Lucille, following you back into the building.
He knew you would’ve gone back to his room, so that’s where he went after taking a detour to pass the walkie on to someone else, then we went to his room, closing the door behind him.
You were laid under the covers, with them pulled up over your head, your gun propped up against the wall.
“(Y/N).”
You didn’t reply, and he set Lucille next to your gun, making his was over to you, laying in front of you.
“Don’t ignore me.”
Negan grabbed the covers and pulled them down, away from your face, and you turned over.
“Oh come on, are you going to give me the silent treatment until I give in?”
You shrugged.
“Oh fucking hell sweetheart, do you want me to take a day off? Is that what you want?”
You stilled refused to reply.
Reaching over, Negan took his walkie and he pressed to button.
“Listen up you shitheads, I don’t give a shit what’s happening, I don’t give a fuck if you set yourself on fire, if someone punches you in the balls, I don’t give a fuck. If you bother me, if anybody bothers me for the rest of the day I’ll be using your fucking heads as batting practice. Do I make myself damn well clear?”
He waited, listening to the chorus of responses saying they understood.
He set the walkie down and turned back to you, reaching out the placed a finger on your chin and turned your head a little.
“You gonna stop being pissy now?”
You moved so you were laying on your back, and you stared up at the ceiling.
“Shit (Y/N), did I really fuck you off that much?”
The one thing Negan liked about you is that you were just about as stubborn as him, if not even worse.
You couldn’t give a shit about whatever was going on in the outside world, you lived in your own world, as long as you and the few people you cared about were safe it’s all that mattered for you.
Negan knew the extent of your wrath when you were pissed off, and he didn’t like to be on the receiving end of that.
“You want to go for that walk?”
You looked at him and this made him grin a little.
“Yeah, I knew that would get your attention. We’ll go for that walk if you stop being all mad with me.”
You pushed yourself up, and you grabbed your gun, leaving the room.
You knew Negan was going to follow you, he had just taken the day off so of course he was going to follow you.
It’s what he did when he didn’t have to do anything, he would never be all that far away from you.
You made your way outside, jogging down the steps, and you began making your way to the exit of the sanctuary.
“Do you want security?” A guard asked.
“Does it look like I want fucking security? No. I want to go out and spend some quality time with my wife.”
The quickly nodded and stepped aside, and you bit back a smirked as you walked past them.
Negan began his whistle again and you spun around to glare at him.
He raised his hands, glaring at you.
You turned around to carry on walking, taking the path into the forest, brushing your fingers through some of the green leaves.
Negan jumped over a fallen log, and he held his hand out to you, helping you over it.
He laced his fingers with yours and you copied him, moving yourself closer towards him without thinking, but it was something he noticed.
“Not that pissed off clearly.” He smirked.
You let go of his hand and smacked his chest.
Negan laughed, taking your hand back in his and he walked in front of you, making you stop.
You looked up at him, and he let go of your hand, bringing his hand up he brushed his knuckles along your cheek.
“I know sometimes I may neglect to give you the attention you deserve, I know most days I piss you off, most days you probably want to kick me in the dick.”
You half nodded, and he smiled at you.
“But shit sweetheart you are so beautiful… so fucking beautiful…”
Negan admired the way your eyes sparkled a little in the sunlight coming through the trees, the way you would stop to admire every flower you came across.
He was brutal, harsh, did things, unspeakable things, yet you were his, you were so beautifully in love with all the little things in life.
“You’re so fucking beautiful. If anything ever happened to you I swear to god I would kill every fucker who ever hurt you, every fucking bastard that got in my way to get to you. You know that right?”
You smiled softly, bringing your hand up to touch his.
“I know darling, I know you would. I just get so annoyed sometimes I guess, I just want to have some more of your time…” you mumbled.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
You looked around the trees, heading a few walkers nearby.
“We should go.”
Negan looked around, nodding his head in agreement, and you both began your way back to the sanctuary.
He did try asking you questions but you wouldn’t reply, and he couldn’t exactly stop you outside so he waited.
His hand in yours as you both made your way back to his room.
Once inside you both set your weapons aside and he took your wrist to stop you from moving away.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked quietly.
“Because it’s stupid okay? Because I know it’s stupid, and it’s.. it’s selfish.”
“It’s not stupid, or selfish. Hell (Y/N), you should have told me, you know that’s all you need to do. Just tell me. I don’t care what it is.”
He placed his forehead on yours, and you closed your eyes, placing your hand on the back of his head to pull him down, connecting his lips with yours.
Negan was more than happy to kiss you back, his hands settling on your waist.
When you pulled away you smiled sweetly at him, and he gave you his signature grin.
“Do you love me?” You asked.
“You know I do.”
“Say it.”
“I love you.”
You grinned a little bit, tucking your head under his chin, your arms wrapping around his torso.
Negan placed a hand on your lower back, the other between your shoulder blades, rubbing small circles.
Negan heard his name being called on the walkie and he grumbled, going to move away but you wouldn’t let him.
“Ignore it…”
“I warned them.”
You looked up at him.
“You can deal with it later, just ignore them.”
He sighed, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.
“Anything you want.”
You grinned, heading over to the Tv you turned it on and sat on the floor, and he sat behind you, letting you sit between his knees, resting your back on his chest.
He wrapped his arms around you, and you placed your hands over his.
There was a knock on the door.
“Fuck off!” You yelled.
Negan laughed as he listened to footsteps quickly leaving, and he kissed your head.
“That’s my wife.”
105 notes · View notes