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familyvideostevie · 5 months

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steel drum weight of me

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni

summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k

warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie

a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.

Jackson looks its best in the winter.

You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.

It's also fucking cold.

But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.

Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.

Things could be worse.

You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.

Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.

You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.

The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.

"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"

"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.

The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.

The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.

He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.

"How was the wall?"

"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"

"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"

He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."

You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.

"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.

"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.

"Hey now, what --"

You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"

He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.

The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.

And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.

It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.

"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.

"I'm fine --"

"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"

"I said I'm --"

"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.

"Alright," he says. "Move, then."

You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.

"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."

Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.

"What's it made of?"

"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."

He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."

You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.

"Cute."

"Gimme those hands, big guy."

The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.

"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"

"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.

"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."

He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."

You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.

And, boy, he touches you back.

So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.

Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.

"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."

"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.

"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."

"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"

You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.

"What? Can't hear over the water."

You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."

"Don't think that's what you said."

"It's what I meant."

And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.

"Alright," he says.

You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.

Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"

"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."

"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"

"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"

"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.

So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.

"You just gonna look at it?"

You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.

Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.

"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.

It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.

Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.

You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.

He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."

"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.

He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."

You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.

"So is that a no?"

You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.

"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.

"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.

"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.

Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.

You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.

"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."

He laughs.

His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.

"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"

"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"

"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"

His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.

Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.

You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.

"Hell of a salve," he manages.

You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."

His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."

"You never stop, do you?"

Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."

You laugh into his neck. "Good."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction

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joonsytip · 5 months

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Withering for You || Seungcheol-Part 2

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): Seungcheol is still the biggest meany, crying, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, everything is on rocks, mentions of infidelity (doesn't happen to though), smut, mention of alcohol consumption

Word Count: 6.1k

TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED!

Minors DNI!

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

[SVT Masterlist] [SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist]

You are laying on the bed draped over by your husband, Seungcheol.

The reception party passed in a blink of an eye and after you both were driven to the house aided by nothing but silence, Seungcheol was all over you as soon as you both stepped into the house.

He dragged you into the nearest room he could get and next, both of your clothes were off, now littering the floor.

You two blended in so naturally that it seemed like you two were never apart. Seungcheol still has the map of your body memorized and it has been over an hour since he has started to work his mouth on your pussy. He's been teasing your clit, sucking on your buds but never giving you an orgasm.

You lay breathless, gasping as he continues to deny you orgasms, overstimulating you and when you try to squirm away his strong grip is keeping you in place.

"P-Please I can't take it anymore", you say in your hoarse voice, giving his hair rough tug, "Please let me cum, Seungcheol please..."

Seungcheol lifts his gaze to meet yours, his lips curled up in mockery before dives into your folds once again eating you out like a starved man of years.

And suddenly, all of it's gone. You open your eyes again at the emptiness only to see him hovering over you.

He takes both of your hands and pins them down to the bed. He growls into your mouth and bites your lower lip a little too hard. You moan when his other hand kneads your breasts and pinch your nipples. It's all so intense that you have gone void of anything and everything except for Seungcheol. All you feel and see is him.

Seungcheol is marking you tenaciously, a clear message to you that you're now solely his. He's painting your neck, your chest, your thighs in shades of pink and purple for the world to know.

A loud moan erupts out of your throat when he enters you, filling you up to the hilt. He releases your hands and you find them wrapping around his shoulder. With each sharp thrust of his, your nails dig deeper on the skin of his back. And it doesn't take long for you to reach your first orgasm of the night.

But your husband has just started. He doesn't give you any time to recover. He sits up and perches both of your legs on his shoulder and starts to thrust into you deeper while his fingers rub your clit. A few more thrusts and you are cumming again along with him.

You're exhausted, so numb from the session that your eyes close shut. And when you're drifting off, you feel a grip on your hips and your husband whispers in your ear, "We are just getting started, did you forget how long we went before?"

And next you're being flipped onto the bed.

You wake up at noon and your mood immediately sours seeing the empty space beside you. Seungcheol's words from last night ring in your ears.

"Where are you going?", you ask when you see him getting off the bed after he's satiated at the dawn hours.

"To my room", he says draping over the towel he got from the bathroom, "And", he turns to look at you, "This is your room, you'll be staying here."

You're eyes go wide as saucers and with every ounce of energy you could gather you sat up, "What do you mean by that? We're married!"

Seungcheol laughs and throws you a glare, "Just on paper. Don't you dare to cross the threshold to my room. I'm warning you."

And then he leaves.

After showering, you decide to get something to eat and that's when you meet the housekeeper Ms. Oh in the kitchen.

"Hello, Ms. Oh!", you greet her in glee because you knew her and absolutely adored her.

Ms. Oh turns around in surprise and the first thing she does on seeing you is pulling you aside and saying with concern, "I never believed you'd do something like that to Seungcheol. So please be honest with me and answer me. Did you really cheat on him all those years ago?"

You sigh and try to usher off but also you didn't wanna disappoint people who loved you anymore so you answered honestly, "I didn't. I have loved Seungcheol devotedly throughout. There was never anyone else."

"Oh poor thing. You must have had your reasons to let that happen", you hear Ms. Oh exclaim and next you're being pulled into her embrace. She has been with Seungcheol since his childhood days. Ever since he had a house of his own, she has been sent to take care of him. You had met her when you had visited the Choi mansion while you both dated. She was always the one to welcome you.

"Is he up yet?", you ask and Ms. Oh shrugs off urging you to check it yourself.

So you are now standing at the threshold of your husband's room and contemplating where to fight the lion or flight from the spot.

Ofcourse you choose to the former, hence you don't even knock, just push the door behind and walk in.

"Where do you think you're heading?", you freeze seeing Seungcheol who's sat on the bed, glasses on, probably reading something on the tab, "You're not allowed in here, get out."

Your absence of fear and bored expression irks your husband. Before he could speak again, you are pacing fast and now you're seating infront of him.

"Do you really think all these tactics would work on me?", you roll eyes, "I'm your wife and not just on paper."

"People can be really shameless.", he snickers, "I thought I was a good judge of character but thanks to you, I don't think so anymore."

"Seungcheol, it's in the past, can't we start again?"

"So simple for you to say, isn't it?"

The atmosphere drops. The gloom caves in. And as Seungcheol's eyes turn darker, his face scares you off. Tab long forgotten on the bed, both of his hands form a fist, a sign you know very well. He's controlling himself, he's keeping his feelings, his hurt, his words at a bay.

Moments pass by. You stare at him, he glares at you.

"I have never loved again Y/N.", he says like a scarred man, all the anger now replaced with all of the agonies, "I have trust issues, I can't trust people easily."

His voice cracks, he lets all those tears fall, "I wasn't like this. It's so suffocating, so difficult to live like this."

You are rendered speechless. All these years you have only wept in self pity. All three years you've only thought how wronged you were, how difficult it was for you.

But what about Seungcheol? How did he cope up? Was there ever a scope of healing for him?

Clearly not. You could see the entire span of heartbreak in the way he's sobbing now, face hidden behind his palms.

You want to engulf him in your embrace. Want to take all of his pain away. But you know if you reach out it would only hurt him more. So you wipe your tears hastily and walk out of his room.

Were you really going to do him any good? That's what you could think of.

"All you had to do is stay.", Seungcheol murmurs to the door which slammed shut when you walked out.

The flashlights are blinding. The fake smiles are nauseating. The entire venue is suffocating.

But you know better, being the wife of Choi Seungcheol comes with a whole lot of baggage. The most displeasing one to you being in the limelight. And Seungcheol knows it well, hence he has been attending every event he could despite his busy schedule only to drag you along with him in each one of them.

He takes pleasure in your discomfort throughout the night. His lips curl up everytime an obnoxious person approaches you just to sprut nonsense or talk business, your interest in neither.

You don't let go of your husband's arm. Though you know it attracts more of an unnecessary crowd, you don't let that grip loosen, not even for a moment.

"I don't understand you sometimes.", Seungcheol says as you both occupy a table at the corner, "You say you don't like the limelight but isn't that what you've been running for? You did marry me for my money, my status and my fame. What else do you want?"

Your gaze is fixated on the some random couple you don't know when you say, "What if all I need is you?", you crane your neck to meet his gaze.

Seungcheol breaks the gaze from you and he leaves the table. You have been confessing your feelings at every chance you could but to Seungcheol it's amusing, how swiftly you could lie through your teeth even without batting eyelashes. Marvelous he thinks and he hates you more each time.

That night, like any other, he fucks you dumb till the dawn.

You are not unaware of Seungcheol's hostility towards you. He thinks of you as nothing but a gold digger, a ruthless woman who wouldn't hesitate to trample people if they come the way of something you wanna achieve.

It's already been three months since you both got married. Three month of you chasing Seungcheol and him pushing you away.

When you, every morning take your sweet time in his walk-in closet only to select an attire he'd wear for the day, he later would unabashedly walk out wearing an entirely different outfit.

You can't cook to save your life but you wait for him, everyday at the table for breakfast but on spotting you, he walks out informing Ms. Oh he'd grab something on the way. But that didn't stop you. Nowadays you grab his arm forcefully and take him to the table, pester him until he gives up and eats the breakfast that's served.

He never spends the night with you in the sheets. Even though you're begging, he pads out of your room as soon as he's done.

You never miss to say the 'I love Yous' everytime he walks out of the door.

And you believe someday he'd say it back.

You take a deep breath as you arrive at the Choi mansion. It's kind of a ritual for the Choi's to hold a family dinner at least once every month. The last two times were kinda awkward but manageable.

But this time you're a lot hesitant because unlike for the last time, Seungcheol's father would be present and you're still thinking of making an excuse to skip it. But you also know Seungcheol looks forward to it a lot because it's not like he gets to spend a lot of time with this parents. Their busy schedules allow only a limited amount of time for togetherness and the three of them put every effort to make it happen.

"Welcome my sweethearts!", your mother in law coos as she embraces you both.

Seungcheol has noticed how stiff you go around his mother all the time now. Doesn't click, because when you both dated you and his mother got along really well. He wonders what could have happened.

His father walks out to recieve you both and Seungcheol suddenly feels a strong grip around his arms. He looks to find you sticking closer to him, your eyes unsure as his father approaches you both. He finds it odd. But again he knows his father and you never got along since the old days. It was mostly his father, who didn't let go if any chance to express his disliking towards you.

The dinner proceeds with horrible awkwardness. It's mostly the son catching up with his parents. You just sit quietly only giving short answers if asked anything. Your appetite is long gone.

"I have packed some dinner for Wonwoo.", his mother says, "and asked him to come and get it. That boy never joins us even though he drives you here everytime.", she says disappointed.

"Mom, that's how he is.", Seungcheol adds light heartedly.

"How are things going with your music academy?", Mr. Choi asks you and waits for you to speak with undivided attention.

"It's going to be hectic since it's gonna be the competition season soon.", you answer curtly.

"Are you going to participate or perform in any of the events?", Mrs. Choi asks.

"In a couple of them.", you say smiling at her.

You're heaving a sigh of relief as you walk out of the mansion to get some fresh air. Meanwhile, Seungcheol is bidding goodbyes to his parents. You don't think it's ever gonna get easy.

"I hope you're treating her well, son.", Mrs. Choi says with an undertone.

Seungcheol just looks at her in disbelief before speaking, "Are you being serious? That woman had broke me apart and you want me to treat her right?", he hisses, "No, sorry, I can't and I won't."

His mother sighs, "She is the one for you, Cheol. Make things right while you still have a chance. Don't do anything that you'll regret later."

"Mom, why--"

"Because there are things you might be unaware of. You don't know what the person on the other end might have gone through.", she smiles sadly, "Marriages are not meant for revenge, not when you both have feelings for each other."

Seungcheol laughs, "Feelings? I hate her mom!"

"You hate her because you have those feelings entangled in your heart, all in your head.", she pats his arms, "Otherwise it's been years Cheol, if there are no such feelings involved, you should been apathetic towards her."

Seungcheol knows he lost the debate then and there. But he's ready, to stab the knife and twist it. He has been preparing to suck out your soul hollow.

"You didn't have to come here, I know I make you uncomfortable."

You don't move on hearing the voice. You just keep looking ahead.

"I'm sure you must be happy, Mr. Choi.", your lips curl up slightly, "We aren't making any progress, he still hates me the same."

Mr. Choi chuckles bitterly, "Nothing I do would make you forgive me but I'm sorry. I'm really ashamed for what I had done--"

You hold your hand up to stop him and turn to look at him, "It's all meaningless and I know you don't mean a thing you say. All I could hope is that this time you don't interfere in our relationship"

You're walking out before he could speak further. When you get home, Seungcheol finds it odd once again when you don't try to initiate any conversation with him but rather go straight to your room, closing the door shut.

"Is it that bad?", you ask in a small voice, "Sorry, but this is all I could come up with."

There's no response from the other end. You think you might cry because the expression on Seungkwan's face, you're sure can't be of something good.

You get up embarassed, "We don't have enough time to create something else. I think you should ask someone else or take my name out the competition. I'm really sorry."

Then you're turning back to walk out of the room.

"I have never heard of anything this good.", comes Seungkwan's stern voice.

And the next few moments go by you chasing him and him running, screaming around in the hall to save his life.

"Aashole, I'm not taking part anymore", you say catching your breathe, "I'm done with you."

"You are not, honey.", he sits on a chair and says, "I heard you've taken a bunch of invitations out this time. Is it what I'm guessing?"

"Yeah. I'm going to invite Seungcheol, his parents, Wonwoo and some more people.", you deflate instantly, "Though, I'm assuming none of them would be attending."

Seungkwan chooses silence because he has nothing but some mere words of consolation to offer.

"I'm going have lunch with Seungcheol today, I'll give him the invitation card then."

"Okay ma'am! See you in the evening?", he asks, you nod.

Ridiculous or not, this is the first time you are visiting the Choi enterprise after your marriage. The staff are greeting you throughout, offering to guide you to Seungcheol's office but you had already texted Wonwoo and he diligently waits for you at the reception.

Something's off, you can sense it from Wonwoo's demeanor. He's not as bitchy as he generally is. When you're out of the elevator, he says, "The last cabin on the hallway."

You acknowledge and pull out an invitation card. He's surprised when give it him saying, "I hope you'll come to watch."

Wonwoo in turn surprises you with his respond, "Sure, I'll be there."

You gape at him but defer yourself from asking, not wanting to probe further.

"He doesn't have any meetings scheduled for the next two hours right?"

"No he doesn't and this is the time he usually has lunch."

"Ok thanks.", you excuse yourself and walk to his cabin door. You take a deep breath, anxious because Seungcheol doesn't know about your visit yet and you're not sure how he'd react.

You knock at his door and hear a faint come in. Sliding the handle you're met with an unpleasant sight.

Rather an unpleasant person, Jiah almost hovering over your husband. Seungcheol's brows cock at your unannounced presence.

"What are you doing here?", Jiah asks and you stand over crossing your arms. The response never comes.

"I asked what the hell are you doing here? Who gave you the permission to come here?"

You take out your phone and click a photo of both of them at such an angel which looks a lot more compromising than it actually is.

"What are you doing?", Seungcheol asks but you ignore him.

"Out.", you say glaring at Jiah.

"You are bold to assume I'd listen to you.", Jiah scoffs.

"So you'd listen to Seungcheol then.", you say smiling and look at your husband, "Tell her to get out of here."

Seungcheol generally is unbothered but something in your aura is scaring is him today. He knows of your anger and he wonders what could happen if you're ticked off.

"Jiah, leave.", Seungcheol commands and Jiah looks at him as if betrayed.

"Heard it, now get lost.", you say while approaching her. Jiah instantly gets the flashback of her getting slapped by you on your wedding day. She gets a shiver through her spine and she's almost scurrying out.

"You had done something to her, haven't you?", Seungcheol asks you, "I think I just now saw terror in her eyes."

"Doesn't concern you.", you snark at him.

"Why did you take that picture?", he asks again.

You lips curls up in a cold smile and Seungcheol for some reason feels petrified, "Oh this", you hold out your phone for him to see the picture you took, "If she stayed, I would have sent this to the media. And I'm not sure how'd your companies handle the reputation damage."

Seungcheol is rendered speechless because he knows you can be cynical at times.

"Let's have lunch after that you'll take the medicine and then we'll head home.", you say, "Or do you wanna go home first?"

Seungcheol gives you an incredulous look, "What nonsense are you blabbering? Why would I go home now?"

You return him a sharp look, "Because you're having a splitting headache."

Your husband is once again, rendered speechless. He gulps once, blinks twice and asks, "H-How did you know?"

"Does that even matter?", you say getting up, "Your eyes are red, you're biting your lips every two seconds and your legs, you're continuously tapping them."

While Seungcheol gapes at you, you're calling Wonwoo.

"Does he have any important meetings today?", you ask, "No, actually, can all the meetings be rescheduled to some other day?"

Seungcheol doesn't get to hear Wonwoo's response but he watches as the creases on your face flats out in relief.

"Thanks, please reschedule them and also could you please pull out the car? We'll be heading home now.", you tell him, "No need to come up here, I'll bring him with me."

And you're making another call.

"I won't be going back to the academy, please reschedule my classes.", you inform. Seungcheol listens to your side of conversation carefully, "Yes, with my husband.", then you're nodding your head, "Sounds good. Thanks a lot."

Suddenly Seungcheol becomes an obedient man. He let's you grab his coat and briefcase. He also let's you take his hand and guide through his entire office.

Throughout the way, anyone who comes across you both, coos in amazement. The way you're carefully treading your way holding your husband and the way your husband's eyes are only on you is enciting. Pictures are being taken, praises are being whispered.

On the way to home, you call Ms. Oh, instructing her to cook something light but definitely not bland because Seungcheol won't even touch it at the sight.

When Seungcheol comes to the dining table after washing up, he finds you waiting for him. He's surprised at himself because he doesn't deter you when you're holding the spoon to his mouth. He eats all of it without uttering a word. When you're handing him the glass of water, he waits for you to hand him the medicine. When you take him to his bedroom, he lays down, subtly towards the inner side leaving you space to sit.

He is discreetly grabbing the corner of your dress when you massage his head. He hopes that his grip doesn't loosen when he falls asleep. And he feels your lips gently grazing his forehead as he falls asleep.

Seungcheol might be surprised at his own behaviour but you're definitely not. You know your husband becomes unhinged clingy whenever he feels unwell so if tonight he goes back to his asshole behaviour, you'd surmise that he has recovered.

The next day, when Seungcheol is getting ready for office, you walk into the room already dressed up and before he could scold you're handing him the invitation card.

"I had visited your office yesterday with the purpose of giving you this invitation card.", you smile, "There's a competition and I'm gonna perform. It's in a month later, so please clear your schedules ahead. I hope you'd come."

You are already dejected because you're sure he won't be attending but there's still a silver lining in your heart which makes you think he might come and watch you perform.

While Seungcheol takes a look at the card, you are rushing out saying him bye.

The dining table is empty but Seungcheol sits trying to simmer down his curiousity but ultimately fails.

"Did she already have breakfast?", he asks Ms. Oh.

"No", she answers with concern, "When I asked her, she said something about having classes throughout the day, because she couldn't take those yesterday. Also, she said she'd be returning late at night."

"Her phone has been ringing since early morning", she adds, "She was waiting for you get up so she could give you the invitation card.", a smile spreads across her lips, "She gave one to me as well."

Seungcheol knows your dedication towards music and he is aware that the academy is your lifeline.

You had to skip breakfast and now that you have another set of classes lined up, you are running on heels to grab quick lunch. The competition season are meant to be hectic for the tutees as well as the mentors. And you being the only one with Cello being the instrument it's getting tougher.

It's 2 at night when you are finally done with the classes as well the paperwork. You check your phone and among the enormous amount of calls and texts your mood deflates when none of them belonged to Seungcheol. What did you expect? He's probably happy with you off his tail. You're not sure why but suddenly you think it's better to stay the night at the academy to avoid the hassle. You've pulled this before as well and it's convenient when you have to take early classes.

It's not like anyone is waiting for you at home.

This goes on for the whole week. You barely get to spend time at home. Early mornings you would sneak into your husband's room whom you dearly miss, just to catch a glimpse of his pretty face while he's asleep. And it becomes a habit, you press a soft kiss on his forehead each time carefully because he's light sleeper.

Despite knowing everything, despite of the hectic schedule Seungcheol is pulling you in for another event. Even though you tried to decline he's not listening. So here you are in another event that is making you sick.

You catch a breathe when you spot Eunsoo attending the same event.

"I barely see you these days", she says leaning against you.

"Only the people in the academy see me all the time.", you gruff, "I'm already so tired and now I had to attend this event."

"Seungcheol won't let you catch you a breathe.", Eunsoo laments, "How are you both doing? Any progress made?"

You sigh wishfully, "I really wish. Though he doesn't scowl as soon as I come in the periphery of his vision, he still can't quite tolerate me."

"Have you ever thought of telling him the truth?", Eunsoo asks.

"It will beat the purpose of hiding it at first place itself.", you say as you look at your husband talking with which you assume is a business partner, "It would hurt him a thousand times more than it did. It's for his sake."

"What if he doesn't change? How long are you going to keep on trying?"

The question falls on you like a bucket of ice cold water.

As long as your heart prevails, you think.

"What are your plans for Tuesday?", Eunsoo cocks her brows comically, "Can we meet atleast?"

"Honestly, I wanna catch a breathe.", you say tiredly, "But you all won't let me do that."

"It's your birthday bitch, stop being a granny.", Eunsoo rolls her eyes, "I'm not sure whether your dickhead husband knows it or not, we won't let you mop over him."

Your heart hurts. Ofcourse Seungcheol remembers but he won't acknowledge it as for you know.

"I have made a prior appointment so you can't cancel on us", she tugs at your arm.

"Ok fine, anyways I have taken the day off.", you say, "But let's spend it at Mingyu's house. Also, nothing too fancy please."

"Noted Ma'am. I'll go catch up with Miyeon.", she says and leans in to whisper in your ear, "Your husband is literally undressing you with his eyes, gross.", and then she walks away.

You do everything to passtime but never once look at Seungcheol. Because whenever you've swept your gaze it's always some random lady trying to leech onto your husband and him never ushering them away. You know he's doing it on purpose just to irk you but for the past few days it's getting to you.

Like now, your presence feels like a joke.

Blame it on exhaustion, blame it on lovesickness, there are tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

And that's why you're standing at the balcony of a deserted area frantically wiping your eyes and cheeks. Seungcheol wouldn't even notice if you're gone, that thought itself brings another bout of fresh tears to your eyes.

As the cool breeze grazes your face and arms, your mind lingers back to the past few months since you've been married. When you were mentally preparing nerve will to get back Seungcheol, he was also equally preparing to get back to you.

You might have underestimated Seungcheol's pettiness. You might be questioning your determination now.

"What are you doing here?", you are wiping your tears once again upon hearing Seungcheol's voice.

"Nothing much.", you say dismissively, "I think I'm gonna head out now. You can stay, no need to be bothered."

As you're walking out, a strong grip makes you halt in steps.

"Let's leave.", he says when you look at him before walking out of the venue hand in hand. The ride back to home is heavy. It sits on your chest.

"Everyone deserves a second chance, Seungcheol.", your voice cracks, "You know me all too well, you know how to throw a jab. But this is me trying."

Seungcheol is skeptical, about you, about everything you say, not his fault, you have made him the man he is today.

"I know you love to win.", your blootshot eyes look at him, but they hold so much grievance within them, "I might as well let you win this time."

The door shut echos throughout the house, just as your words echoes in Seungcheol's head.

"Isn't that Wonwoo?", you squint your eyes one more before confirming.

"Wonwoo!", you call him out and the later get startled and once spotting you freezes on spot.

A tutee you have been mentoring has her mother admitted in the hospital whom you've been visiting regularly.

"What are you doing here?", you ask him and notice his dilated pupil.

"Are you okay--"

"Mr. Jeon", you see a doctor standing beside him say, "Your brother's condition has deteriorated and if we delay the surgery it will cause more implications.", his voice turns grimer,"The reports don't look good, please let us know your decision as soon as possible."

Wonwoo collapses on the floor as soon as the doctor leaves.

"Oh my god, Wonwoo!", you hold him, make sit on the chair and bring him a glass of water.

You panic when the man in front of you suddenly bursts into tears. With no idea what's happening, how to console him, you watch him quietly as he pours his heart out.

Once he calms down, you take him to the nearby cafe. Wonwoo isn't a guy of many words so as expected he's keeping his mouth shut when you ask him. Bonus, you know he hates you.

When you almost threaten him with digging information yourself and calling Seungcheol, he pleads you not to do so. That's when you come to know that his brother has been suffering from a rare disease and has been hospitalized since last three years. Seungcheol knows about this and has already been paying Wonwoo generously so he could cover the bills. But his brother needs a series of surgeries which would cost a lot more and what's more devastating is it doesn't even ensure recovery.

"Have you talked to Seungcheol about this?"

Wonwoo vigorously shakes his head, "He has already been paying me a lot more than promised. I can't leech of him."

"He's not only your employer, Seungcheol's your friend as well.", you tell him, "Fine you don't have to ask him, how much do you need?"

His eyes go wide and he thinks he has misheard.

You are smiling when you place your hand upon on his on the table affirmingly, "Let me help you please. I know you don't consider me as a friend, but I do."

"No. Never. I shouldn't--"

"It's not for free.", you say and Wonwoo gulps nervously.

"Y/N, please. I can't take help from you. I won't be able to repay you."

"Then I'm telling Seungcheol--"

"Ok fine.", Wonwoo says hesitantly, "Please tell me how I could repay you?"

You smile mischievously, "Well for the starters you can stop being a bitch to me."

Wonwoo gapes at you and when laughs when he finally gets the joke.

"Thanks Y/N. I'll be forever indebted to you."

"Wonseok will be recover soon."

He nods, "Hopefully.", he's a little hesitant but thinks that there's never a right time more than this to bring this up.

He takes a deep breath and asks, "I overheard your conversation with Mr. Choi that night at the mansion."

He watches you freeze.

"I think it has something to do with.....", he doesn't speak it out and continues cautiously, "I might sound rude, but please tell me all of it because no matter how much I think about it now, it's not making sense."

You're hot on heels. You think you should immediately run away but that was never an option so it isn't as now.

"I'll tell you", you say fumbling with your fingers, "but first promise that you won't tell Seungcheol."

"Are the papers ready?", Seungcheol asks Jiah while going through some documents on his laptop.

Jiah's ear to ear grin says it all. She fishes out a file from her bag and hands it over to Seungcheol.

"What will happen if I take her lifeline away from her?", a sinisteric smile splits across his lips. His disgust, pettiness and hatred towards you have only curved into a humungous ball ever since he saw you again.

He hates when you claim to be his wife, he hates when you act as if the betrayal never happened, he hates the sight of you. So he has been waiting. Waiting for the right time to break your bones.

He wants nothing but for you to have the taste of your own poison.

"When are you planning to strike the hammer?", Jiah asks excitedly.

Seungcheol smirks, gazes at the pages of the flat open file, "This is gonna be interesting. The more buildup, the more pain. I'll be the one to nail the coffin, when the time is right."

He's already imagining your deserted state and the rush he's feeling through his body is impeccable.

He checks the calendar and your birthday pops up. Let it be the start, he plots.

Tuesday rolls in a blink of an eye with you currently groaning because your phone keeps on ringing disrupting your long planned sleep schedule.

"Mom", you grumble into the phone, "Let me sleep..."

"Happy Birthday to our precious!", you hear both your parents wish from the other end, "I'll be making all your favourite food, please come soon. Your dad has even baked your favourite cookies", you hear some rumbles before she continues, "and burnt his hands in the process."

You are not surprised, not at all.

"I'll be there in an hour.", you inform, "I have plans with my friends as well."

"And what about Seungcheol?", your father asks and you're quick to dismiss it.

Battling the urge to sleep for the whole day, you finally separate yourself from your bed. You have your whole day planned ahead and not a thing in it includes Seungcheol.

Before you could stow away, Ms. Oh catches you, making you drink the seaweed soup. You gulp down the delicious soup while your brother, who's out the country for attending yet another business matter facetimes you.

The day goes by you getting pampered by your parents who don't let you leave until it's Eunsoo, Mingyu & Seungkwan who physically had to barge into your parents house to take you away.

You are pleasantly surprised to see Wonwoo already waiting for you by the car.

"He's a gang member now.", Mingyu declares happily.

Another round of cake cutting and recieving gifts before you all catch up and drink to wash away the worries of life. Every time your phone dinges, you anticipate it to be from the one who hogs your mind but it's never him.

You decided to call it a night, thanking your friends happily and bidding them farewell as Wonwoo who on purpose kept low on drinking to drive you back home.

It's almost 11, you check the time while entering. You are crossing the hallway when you notice something on the centre table, a 3 tier red velvet cake sitting on it. Not trying to mind it, you are beelining towards your bedroom when you Seungcheol walks out of it.

"Happy Birthday, Y/N.", he wishes you with crescent eyes and toothy smile which makes you think you had one too many drinks so now you're hallucinating.

It's not until Seungcheol holds your hands, you snap of it.

"We've still got sometime until it's midnight", he then turns you back to hallway, "Let's cut the cake."

You push all the brewing questions at the back of your mind. For once you want to be happy without thinking of causes or consequences.

When you cut the cake, Seungcheol sings the birthday song. He makes you take a bite of your favourite cake before you could feed him. He brushes the cream off his fingers onto your cheeks and nose. Just like the old days, when you both dated.

The music starts all of a sudden and he's taking your hands. Your feet dance perfectly to the rhythm because you both have done this before, for many times.

As your heart soars, you try to blink away the tears. But also, unknowingly you're falling into your husband's woven webs of opacity.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

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vivalabunbun · 7 months

Text

When It Rains, Why Does It Pour?

Summary: Sand is quite a nuisance, it creeps into every crevice and no amount of dusting can free oneself from its stubborn hold. Yet, the tide still greets the shore.

Word Count: 8.8k (oh no...)

Tags: Neuvillette x GN!Reader, human!reader, SFW, fluff, childhood friends AU, Slow Burn, Slow Fic, Angst, Hurt with Comfort, themes about reincarnation, TW: Themes about death and loss, themes about aging, immortal x mortal AU, not lore accurate, reader is an attendant, human prejudice, Spoilers Warning: His story quest and archon quests, speculations about his past in Fontaine, why is he so mysterious

Authors Note: This was a challenge trying to write from the POV of a man you don't even know the name of, but I just had to write something for him. A character study of Neuvillette. Enjoy!

How long has it been since he first arrived here? One month? Two? Or perhaps it has already been a year? The young dragon wasn’t too sure.

The days seem to blend together when one only eats, studies, and sleeps all on repeat. A cruel trait of time. The weather outside the glass windows didn’t provide any hints either.

However, he himself is to blame.

A gray haze concealed azure skies as rhythmic drops of rain hit the earth. Blocking out the all-seeing sun and nurturing moon, the murky clouds above even hinder the stars from accompanying him.

A true reflection of his current solitude.

The young dragon arrived in the human world, brought over by the lord of Fontaine. Due to the nature of his arrival to this nation, he was given status and importance in the eyes of the citizens. However, he has yet to receive acceptance.

The grand estate in which he resides was staffed with countless butlers and maids, renowned chefs, and skilled tutors. He was wanting of nothing, yet still impoverished.

He could see it in their mortal eyes, he could sense it in the tangible silence of the halls, he could tell from the distance each mortal put between themselves and him.

Much like the towering stone walls which surrounded his private residence.

Was it to separate themselves from him or himself from them?

A question he entertains as lilac eyes scan over the aforementioned wall. Its gray stones are a welcomed change from the dry parchment with even drier content.

As he observes the drab stones contrast against a dreary sky, a small flash of white cuts through the somber composition.

Catching his lilac eyes as they follow the strange shape, it drifts through the capricious wind before the breeze grew bored and tossed it to the ground.

Studying it a bit further, the young dragon identifies the object as a simple pillowcase. Nothing more than a scrap of fabric.

He reasons that the wind must’ve stolen it from some clothesline. Just when he was about to return to the legal ledgers a rustling came from the bushes lining the bottom of the wall.

A small frame pushes apart the thick vegetation, creating enough space to finally free themselves from the entangled mess of branches.

The towering wall, the one meant to separate him from the mortals, was defeated by a mere child.

A child who’s clumsy brushing the twigs from their garments and shaking a few raindrops from their hair. He watches as the small human trots toward the discarded pillowcase, a pout forming on their lips as they observe the mud that had seeped into the silk.

Judging by the simple attire they don, they must be the child of a maid.

Ah humans, fickle and temperamental creatures created by the usurpers. It took a conscious effort on his part to stop the frown threatening to appear on his lips.

Seems like he still needs to get used to their presence.

It was as if the child sensed the bitterness in his thoughts because soon a pair of wide eyes connected with lilac. Even with the sun hiding behind dreary clouds, there was a light that twinkled in their irises.

It was only for a minute, no, even less than that. But a young dragon and a young human held each other’s gaze.

The child’s shoulders jolt as they turn their head back toward the wall, as if a voice called for them. Casting one last glance toward the young dragon, the child trots back toward the wall, disappearing within the murky viridescent.

And that was the end, like the breeze that littered a scrap of fabric among the grass, the small human came and went.

Such fickle creatures, the young dragon gives it one last thought before returning his attention back to a cluttered desk.

–

Amongst the soft drumming of droplets came a tap against the glass too sharp to be caused by the gentle rain. Causing the young dragon to turn away from the stacks of books laid out before him.

The wet glass obscured a small flicker of an orange glow, thus he walked closer to investigate. With each step, the figure outside the window became undeciphered.

That small human again.

Locking eyes with the human outside the glass, the fickle creature’s lips curl up, the glow of their lamp illuminating the curiosity behind their gaze.

A human child doesn’t have the potential to cause much if any harm to him. Thus, he releases the lock, removing the glass barrier separating two breathes.

“Hello! What is uh… your name?” They chirp out.

His sharp ears picked up the clumsiness in their speech, the subtle unfamiliarity of the words they spoke. Distinct signs that you were still learning the language of Fontaine, much like him.

Although he understood your question, he was too distracted to answer. Lilac eyes wandering off toward the stone wall. Within the entangled mess of twigs, there was a small parting.

A part just wide enough to reveal the secret the bushes desperately tried to hide: A small hole along the bottom of the stone barrier. Just enough for a small creature to slip through.

Discovering the truth behind how a small human was able to defeat such a seemingly impenetrable wall.

The pattering of the rain was interrupted by the rustling of fabric, drawing his attention back to the small human in front of him.

The child rummages through their pockets before pulling out a lump covered by a handkerchief. Peeling back the layer of fabric to reveal some conch madeleines, presenting fragmented sweets before the young dragon.

“It tastes good, I promise.” A small hand extends itself further through the open window.

Observing the crumbly sweets laid out upon a handkerchief, the young dragon halted the rejection that almost escaped his lips. Remembering the concepts he had just been reading before this.

Humans tend to follow a set of unwritten rules, principles they like to call ‘manners’. There weren’t any punishments issued by law if those rules were broken, no imprisonment or fines.

However, narrow-eye stares and whispers behind backs were the punishments issued to transgressors by society.

So, he accepts a piece, trying to ignore the sand-like sensation against his tongue. As he chewed, the grin on the human’s face only got wider.

“Now that you’ve taken one, you have to give me your name, it’s only uh… fair!”

Ah, it looks like he’s been tricked. Falling into the clumsy sugar-coated trap only a child could come up with. Yet, as his lilac gaze caught the twinkle still ever so bright in their eyes, he didn’t have the strength to form a frown.

Just a curious human child, only as dangerous as a firefly buzzing in his ear. There shouldn’t be any harm in disclosing the surname bestowed upon him by this nation.

“Neuvillette.” He finally said his first words to you.

A peculiar pattern is recurring. That rainy night when Neuvillette opened those windows, it looked like he welcomed a phenomenon in as well.

Even in his current state, a small human like you could pose no possible threat to him. Thus, whenever a certain tap was placed against the glass. He saw no reason to turn away the visitor. Allowing you to climb in through his window time and time again.

It would’ve been better if you used the door. However, he’s aware of the complications such a request would bring.

Perhaps it’s because he’s currently in the form of a young child, sharing a similar stature to yours. From his observations, humans do have a tendency to gravitate toward those with similar traits. Or perhaps, you’re just exceptionally brazen.

Neuvillette glances up from his book, thick with endless sentences describing obscure and frivolous laws, landing on your frame lazing around upon a rug.

One hand holds onto a collection of fables, pages illuminated by the gentle rays of a star. While the other periodically reaches out toward a pile of conch madeleine.

A sight he’s come to expect now.

Lavender eyes follow your hand as it brings another one of the crumbly sweets to your mouth again. You brought them over under the pretense of sharing them with him, yet they’re already half gone. The only hand reaching for the sweets being yours.

Just like how it was last time, and the time before that, and the one before that as well.

If you felt this complacent in his presence now, then perhaps he can be more candid with you. As is common practice among humans to present a polite front that gradually wears away each recurring meeting.

“You do not have to bring over any more conch madeleine.”

The moment those words left his lips the motion of your hand halted, looking up to connect your sight with his, confusion pinching together your brows.

“Oh? Why so suddenly?” The collection of fables now resting on the rug.

It’s already been done, the first ripple in the frangible water between you and him. There is nothing that can cease the waves that accompany the first breach. He might as well say the whole truth.

“They are dry, I cannot fathom how you can bring yourself to eat them.” Prescriptive eyes caught a faint flinch as you processed his edict.

“They taste fine to me…” You mutter, picking another one up.

This time you chewed slower. The pinch between your brow only grew as you tasted the sweet again, searching for the perceived flaw.

As you met his gaze once more, he could tell your search brought forth no fruitful conclusions. Thus you asked another question in response.

“Then what do you like?”

Besides the pleasantries commonly exchanged between humans in Fontaine, Neuvillette recognizes he lacks the talent for small talk.

The room usually filled with your grievances about whichever tedious task you were assigned before you slipped away behind a wall and into his private residence. Ambient noise which accompanied each flip of a law book.

It is long overdue for him to pull his weight in a conversation.

“Water, spring water.”

“Huh?”

Neuvillette repeats his sentence but the scrunch of your brows doesn’t ease up, he couldn’t fight the urge to draw in a deep breath. So this is the limitation of the human palate, how regrettable.

“Perhaps you are still too simple to appreciate the qualities of water.”

The pout upon your crumb-covered lips morphs into a tight line, sealing away your voice. The brightly printed cover of a storybook was shut as the last few remaining treats were bundled away in a napkin.

Your tea break ended early today, impassive eyes following your figure as it disappeared among the thick vegetation beside a stone barrier.

It was quiet today, not even a single parting uttered past your sealed lips. Therefore leaving the conversation unfinished.

But that is today, you’ll have another tea break tomorrow, and you’ll come to him with your grievances about chores tomorrow as well.

The young dragon returns his focus to the text in front of him.

–

The soft hymn of raindrops against a glass window reverbed through the solitary study, providing a melody for the periodic flips of paper. But the melody was hollow, incomplete.

Shifting his body to look behind himself at the vacant rug, Neuvillette deduces why. The accompaniment was missing.

That tomorrow he had come to expect never came.

Had he committed a transgression? Overstep a line outside his place? Food is a point of pride for many humans, one oddity he’s yet to grasp.

These temperamental creatures tend to lash out when their pride is wounded, much like how a beast reacts to an unhealed cut.

Neuvillette was curious as to whether this was an inherent trait of humanity or a learned by-product of the fickle principles imposed on themselves.

However, observing the abandoned storybook tucked away, the young dragon is leaning towards the former.

Turning back to face his desk, his eyes could only glaze over the monotonous scribbles. Perhaps the cause of his spiritless attitude was disappointment, disappointment in himself.

It looks like he was careless, deluding himself with the misconception that you and him were alike. Two outsiders who found solace in each other’s presence.

However, this was false. You were an outsider to Fontaine, but he was an outsider to this world where humans walked.

He’s still too naive.

Fickle and temperamental creatures spoiled by the usurpers at the expense of his ancestors.

Why did he even entertain the thought that you and him could ever be alike?

Something stirred from within, like when pebbles were thrown into still water, but what were those pebbles? As Neuvillette ponders this conundrum, the drumming of the rain grows louder.

However, it wasn’t loud enough to swallow up the sharp set of taps which interrupted his somber reflection. Jolting him from his thoughts, snapping his attention to the source of the noise.

There stood a figure distorted by the wet glass as another set of sharp taps sounded through the room.

Before Neuvillette could even process it, his body moved without his command. Unlatching the lock and setting the window free from its frame.

Not sparing another second to the raindrops soaking into their cloak, the figure clambers through the window with practiced proficiency.

Without uttering a single greeting, not even one pleasantry, you situated yourself on his floor. Melting into an undignified lump on the pristine tiles as bewildered eyes watched you.

After catching a few breaths, an explanation finally makes its way to his ears.

“T-they… they patched… up the hole,” you huffed out between short breaths.

Ah, the small cavity in the stone wall that you used to escape from chores. Looks like the security at the estate finally noticed.

Gauging the height of the wall from his place by the window, he’s aware of how it towers over both him and you the same.

This brings up another question as he returns to observe your frame, still trying to catch the breaths that evade you.

“I… ran… through the gates… before the… Gardes noticed…” Exhaustion evident in your eyes as pants break up your sentence.

Ah, looks like his question was answered before he even inquired. To be puzzled or amazed, he wasn’t too sure how to categorize this ripple inside him.

The tomorrow that’s been missing for a little more than two weeks, is now right in front of him.

Panting and leaving a few muddy traces along the marble floor, but here nonetheless.

With one deep motion of your lungs, you pushed your body up, finally getting ahold of your breath. The familiar rustle of your pocket, the audio cue for a certain dry sweet to appear. Neuvillette didn’t mind in the least.

Perhaps, he can bear the sandy sensation just for today. But tomorrow is always filled up with surprises, a glass bottle finding its way out of your pocket instead of sugary treats.

“What is that?” An obvious question, but his voice found its way out of his mouth.

“Water, water from the servant’s well, I bottled it myself.” A small hand holds the bottle out more.

“Thank you,” Neuvillette accepts it into his hands.

He should really acquire some glasses to pour the water out into, it’s improper and bad manners to drink from the bottle.

However, his curiosity was greater. Or maybe, he didn’t realize just how parched he had become from waiting for tomorrow.

Uncapping the clumsily packaged water, he takes a generous sip.

“It’s sweet.” His tongue picking up on a subtle saccharine undertone.

“Really?” Your hand reaches up as that familiar shine illuminates your eyes.

Taking a sip from the bottle passed back into your grasp, your brows furrowing in concentration. Another sip was taken from the bottle as you continued to search for the sweetness in the water you’ve always drank.

A sight that tugged up at the lips of a boy still studying the shape of your quirked brows.

Humans, fickle, perplexing, yet astoundingly curious creatures from the very beginning.

If he is to walk amongst the human world, then it’s best for him to be equally curious. To try and search for the harmony between two different breaths.

A child of a maid far from their homeland. A status too insignificant to warrant the attention of Fontaine's factions, freeing you from their prying eyes and entanglements.

Therefore, it should be alright for him to continue observing you, no?

“Ahh… The rain is so unpredictable here in Fontaine, trying to hang out the wash here is always a gamble.” You sink further into the plush cushions of his settee.

As the sun rose and fell, as the leaves grew green then gold, as the ground froze and thawed.

One thing remained unchanged throughout these cycles even as they repeated: your grievances over chores.

The frequency of these complaints reaching his ears has increased, on the part that you now took over more of your mother’s responsibilities in managing the laundry of this estate.

Besides your habitual complaints of the weather, one detail didn’t escape Neuvillette’s hearing: your proficiency in the Fontainian language has increased significantly.

Words no longer spoken clumsily or with unfamiliarity. Accent nearly indistinguishable from a native speaker.

“The people here are fond of creating strange machinery, why can’t they make something to dry clothes?” You resume.

The quill in his hand stops as he pauses in the middle of a sentence, glancing over his shoulder toward your slouching figure making yourself comfortable in the sofa that’s more familiar with your shape than his.

“Perhaps you should be the one to create it, studying might do you some good as well,” came his curt response.

His candid advice makes you sink further into the cushions with a groan.

“I’d rather travel than study those jumbled-up books about machinery or whatever, in fact, I want to visit my homeland as soon as I can,” you grumble aloud.

Ah, that’s right, you’re approaching the age where you could travel freely.

By law, you won’t be bound to the side of your mother, not needing any permission to come to and fro however you wish. No longer kept at this estate washing and folding sheets.

Indeed, you and him found yourselves in similar situations: on the cusp of freedom from this estate.

While he was deep in thought, you filled the silence left behind by posing a question to him.

“Do you plan on visiting your homeland anytime soon, Neuvi?”

By now, the young dragon had stopped expending the effort to try and correct you in your butchering of his surname. Your reason being ‘it’s too long’.

Alongside you, he has grown in stature as well, elapsing you some time ago much to your dismay. If he wished to travel, not much would pose a problem to the young dragon.

However… where could he return to? A homeland… was there a section of his homeland untouched by the usurpers? If he were to go, would he ever want to return to this world?

Sensing the change in the air, dreary clouds blocking the sun’s rays from your skin, you were perceptive enough to ramble about a different matter.

Namely, how the chef of the estate recently changed the type of flour used in the kitchens, resulting in pastries and sweets that were less airy but more flavorful.

Explaining to him the subtle improvements and deterioration in the quality of some baked goods. Filling the air of the study with bright-eyed ramblings until rays of light peek out from waning clouds.

–

“Monsieur Neuvillette! It’s been a while since you’ve visited!” Soft patters of skipping steps made their way to the tall man.

Tilting his sights down, Neuvillette greets the cheery melusine with a gentle smile which she returned with an equally bright grin.

While on a routine stroll along the riverbanks to stretch his legs after a long day, he found himself at the entrance of Merusea Village.

He wonders if it's his body’s natural response to get away from the Palais Mermonia and Opera Epiclese.

Carrying him toward the direction of a secluded reprieve he discovered far away from the suspicious eyes of weary humans.

Condemnatory eyes were constantly pinned to the back of the young dragon who had recently emerged from a sheltered estate to sit in the grand seat of a Chief Justice.

Days filled with nothing but a cacophony of voices echoing off the opera house walls. Screams from the accused and the eager murmurs of spectators blended into nothing more than a chaotic din in his ears.

Gazing deeper into the small lake, the unsuspecting entrance to a hidden haven that the Melusines called home.

It would only take a moment, just one dip into the pristine water for him to disappear from the clamorous mortal realm.

Abandoning the overly grand seat of his post as easily as it would take for his head to vanish under the tranquil tide.

How great would it be to exist in the presence of creatures who could resonate with his own adriftness?

Maybe, he could finally discover the purpose of his current form and longevity in their company. Yes, that sounds about right.

Just as the water wet the tip of his overly ornate shoe, all motion his body stills at a familiar call.

“NEUVI!” Came a voice from just over the beaten path.

Soon your silhouette follows the echo of your call, steps hurried yet worn.

When the young dragon departed from his temporary estate and into the Palais Mermonia, a certain specter followed him as well.

The same specter who’s currently huffing to catch their breath after such a rush. Trying to gather enough air to form their next sentence.

“There you are! The grand tailor sent me to fetch you because you’re almost an hour late to the fitting of your new robe, they need to make sure the measurements are correct,” you chide.

The exasperation of your words was most definitely caused by the fact you had to physically exert yourself in your search for the wandering Chief Justice. Evident by the pout on your lips and scrunched nose.

His attention was quickly torn away from your recuperating figure by a faint tug of his slacks.

The Melusine had hidden herself behind his legs, creating a barrier between her and the strange mortal who seemingly appeared from the blue.

Her sudden movement caught your attention as well.

Ah, that’s right. The Melusines have yet to be acquainted with humans, and humans with Melusines.

Two different species, two different breaths, and two different sets of eyes that can’t seem to see directly into each other.

If his time within the wall of the estate and Palais Mermonia had proven anything, it would be the natural adversity humans had to differences.

Neuvillete certainly wasn’t prepared for such an event, nor was he sure how to handle it.

In the midst of his inaction, your hand reached into your pocket, fumbling around before pulling out a handkerchief-covered lump.

Despite the soreness in your legs, you lowered your body until you were at eye level with the shorter Melusine.

“Hello there, would you like some conch madeleines?” Unraveling the fabric to reveal the sweets which you seem to have an abundant supply of.

The grip on his slacks tightened as she glanced up at him, lilac eyes catching the hesitance in her irises. Neuvillette gives a subtle nod, giving just enough reassurance for the small creature to release his pant leg.

Reaching a mitten-like hand toward the golden sweets, it only took one bite for the hesitance in her eyes to be replaced by a bright twinkle.

“It’s tasty isn’t it?” Your lips formed a wider grin.

The Melusine responds with an eager nod, too occupied with bringing more of the buttery treat into her mouth.

At the sight of her restless chewing covering her cheeks with faint crumbs, you let out a giggle.

“I’ll give you the rest of the sweets if you tell me your name,” you offered.

After a few moments of the Melusine finishing her previous bite, she falls for the same trap he had many years ago.

“My name is Carole!” She chirps.

“What a wonderful name.” Your gaze softened further as you held out the treats, keeping your promise.

As Carole reaches for more, she glances back up. Wide eyes twinkling as she inquires him with the one thought currently on her mind.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, does the human world have more treats as delicious as these?”

Ah, it looks like the stroll Neuvillette took today to relieve himself of mounting troubles only led him to more.

The skies over the Court of Fontaine have been in a pensive stalemate, all too familiar clouds blocking azure hues. However, rain has yet to patter on the ground, as if the weather was unsure of itself.

A feeling shared by the Chief Justice currently sitting at his desk, reviewing the details of the day’s trials. Albeit, half heartily.

Much like the skies crowded with clouds, in the solitude of his office, his mind rang loud with thoughts. Neuvillette only had himself to blame for the current silence of his office, it’s been this way for around a week going on two now.

Lilac eyes peered over the tops of the papers toward the shut doors, concealing him away. There hasn’t been a knock on those doors for some time now, due to the diligent Melusines who followed his request.

Turning away potential visitors with crafted excuses of ‘The Chief Justice is handling a very important case’ or ‘My apologies, but the Chief Justice is very busy’.

Neuvillette recognizes that he’s currently no different than a child hiding away from the consequences of a broken vase.

How childish, he chides himself as he returns back to his responsibilities. How would the citizens of Fontaine react to their Chief Justice conducting himself in such a manner?

He’s sure if Lady Furina were to catch wind of his behavior, she’d be greatly entertained.

As if the mere mention of the nation’s archon presented a bad omen, the sturdy doors of his office swung open, revealing the face of a familiar visitor who’s been turned away one too many times.

“My my, it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen the inside of this office, I almost forgot what it looks like,” you remark as your eyes hone in on him.

The child’s hiding place under the bed has been exposed.

“Good afternoon, I was not made aware you had any appointments with me.” Neuvillette’s own eyes trail past yours.

From behind the door frames the figures of two Melusines quickly dodged away from his sight. A silent admission of guilt on their part, and Neuvillette didn’t have to look hard to deduce the crime they’ve committed: Accepting bribes.

The evidence was right there in the form of buttery crumbs left on the corner of their mouths. Ah, you and with those conch madeleines of yours.

It’d be best for him to finally handle the situation at hand, one he’s been trying to maneuver out of.

“If I recall correctly, you were granted a vacation, why not take this chance to travel? It certainly is a prime opportunity-”

“Why have you been avoiding me, Monsieur?” you cut through the long-winded pleasantries and excuses.

His lips press together, by now he’s well accustomed to your brazenness. However, the absence of a familiar name only said in your voice made the guilt weigh heavier on his shoulders.

Guilt which originated a few weeks prior.

—

On a secluded riverbank, a routine walk under clear skies was halted. You were knelt down on the ground, uncaring of the sand sticking to the fabric of your clothes, as you held a Melusine between your arms. Two mittened hands clung to you as she soaked your shoulder with tears.

“W-why? Why did he have to go?” Her sobs interrupted by sudden hiccups.

As you rubbed circles into her back, something he saw humans do to soothe their crying young, Neuvillette watched from the side. Much like how he would observe those performances within the Opera Epiclese.

Liath is her name, a diligent Melusine who patrolled the grounds of the Palais Mermonia. By her side, there would be a guard poodle who’d matched her skips with his prances. An inseparable duo, or it’d be more accurate to say, they were once an inseparable duo.

Dogs are a species domesticated by humans, some might argue that they were created by humanity through generations of selection. So it stands to reason that they too would have a limited lifespan.

In fact, they have a lifespan even more restricted than that of the mortals who tamed them.

The Melusines have just begun walking amongst humans, there were still many aspects their sheltered minds have yet to grasp. The fleetingness of mortality is one of them.

Thus, Neuvillette did his best to caution them.

However, just like how laws can’t completely stop crimes, his words can’t completely prevent such tragedies. All he could do was try.

“I’m sorry for your grief, this was the very reason why I cautioned you against getting too attached to him… A dog’s life is brief-”

“Monsieur Neuvillette.”

The sentence died at the tip of his tongue as his eyes met yours. Gaze narrowed and brows furrowed, not even the Chief Justice dared to interject any further.

After you silenced him, your focus returned back to the grieving Melusine.

Slowly standing back up from the ground, her frame cradled in your arms as her sobs continued.

“I know it hurts,” you whispered, one hand patting her back, setting a steady rhythm reminding her to breathe.

“B-but why? W-why is it so sad?” she hiccuped.

You hummed, beginning to bounce her a bit within your hold.

“Wouldn’t it be sadder if you never met him?”

At your question, the Melusine stares at you through teary eyes. Expression lined with confusion.

“To have loved him, and for him to have loved you in return…isn’t that enough?” You cooed, taking steps away from the riverbank.

Still frozen in his place, the dragon could only stare at your back as it grew further and further away, soon disappearing from his view.

He had misspoke.

Neuvillette recalled last Autumn. As the vivid hues of the foliage shriveled up to nothing more than a shadow of their former beauty, you laid your mother to rest. Burying her in a cemetery which overlooked the direction of your homeland.

His unsolicited reprimand must have been throwing salt into a wound that still bled. He had overstepped his authority.

Murky clouds congregated in the once clear sky.

—

Those were the events that transpired, events that have led to the current stalemate happening in his office. Lilac eyes couldn’t seem to find the courage to connect with yours. Another excuse finding its way to his tongue.

“Didn’t you want to visit your homeland?”

“Oh?” Your brow quirks up, as your hands find their way to your hips.

“And then who’d be here to repair the tears in your robe when you inevitably step on them?” Obviously unimpressed by his suggestion.

“Surely there are other talented tailors here that can handle the task,” he rebukes.

“Oh? Will they also untangle your hair from the ornamentation of chairs?” You press on.

“I can manage.”

“Then can the Chief Justice also manage all the uniforms for the Melusines? Can he sew every button and ensure they fit correctly?”

Ah, with your last statement, Neuvillette concedes. A hush fills the room.

The Melusines are still new to walking amongst humans, not many were willing to tailor specialized uniforms for their short stature. Thus, you took up the mantle.

Perhaps out of a sense of responsibility, it was you who stirred their curiosity with those sweets of yours.

It seems responsibilities tethered you to the Court of Fontaine, much like they did to him. After a few breaths, as always, your voice shatters the stalemate.

“I’m not upset, Neuvi.”

With those words, his lilac eyes finally connect with yours. Finally able to see the soft curls at the corners of your lips.

It indeed has been a while since he last saw such a sight.

This time instead of replying with an excuse, he responds with a gentle hum.

“Ugh, why are your curtains so dusty? When was the last time you went outside?” It wasn’t long before your attention returned to the state of his office.

Strolling past his desk, your hands began to fuss with the thick drapes. Pouting at the dust that coated the lush fabrics.

All Neuvillette could do was follow with his gaze, papers long pushed to the side as for the first time in a while, an azure hue was seen peeking through the clouds.

From his observations, it’s instinctive for humans to avoid pain. However, it’d be hypocritical of him to judge mortals for actions he’s been guilty of.

“If I knew I had to work this hard now, I would’ve skipped more chores back at the estate,” you chuckle, pulling back the drapes to allow gold to illuminate his office.

To have loved and have been loved in return.

Was this the human rationale behind taming a dog? Having the reality of the future constantly lurking over each happy moment as the hands of time tick forward.

Why do humans dote on pets? Creatures that only live a fraction of a mortal life?

Are happy memories a fair exchange for bitter grief, or are they the cure?

As Neuvillette counts the strands of peeking silver that mingle within your lush locks, he prays he finds the answer soon.

The clacks of ornate shoes reverberate down once unfamiliar halls, a towering figure lurks past bustling nurses who bow their heads at the sight of the Chief Justice as he passes by.

With a body like his, there is no reason for him to wander among these halls. Or more accurately, there once was no reason.

The taps of his soles slowed as a familiar door came into view, the only detail which differentiated it from the rest of the hall being the brass numbers displayed. Bringing up a glove-clothed knuckle, delicate taps were placed against the wood.

Almost immediately, a muffled ‘come in’ resounded behind the frame. Granting the Iudex permission to turn the polished knob, allowing him entry as the hinges sang their welcome.

“My, my, if it isn’t Monsieur Neuvillette, to whom do I owe the pleasure?” A grin spreads across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes.

Instantly his frame stiffens in the midst of returning the door to its frame. Bringing his free hand up to his face, Neuvillette coughs as to compose himself once more.

“Please, forgo the formalities.”

Though your eyes might not be as sharp as they once were, the delicate dusting of pink along his pointed ears couldn’t escape their sight. Making your eyes crinkle more.

Feeling entertained enough, you cease your teasing and gesture toward the vacant chair beside your bed.

Obediently, his towering figure strides up to the seat, the wood squeaking under his weight as he settles onto it.

By now, the dragon has grown accustomed the structure of greetings, beginning with a layer of pleasantries.

“How have you been fairing?” Lavender eyes scrutinize the sheets and pillows, searching for any unapparent flaws.

“It’s just a mild case of pneumonia,” you muse aloud.

Momentarily resting his eyes behind a slow blink, all he could do was sigh at your brazen nonchalantness. Yet with a ghost of a smile on the same lips that sighed.

It was a mild case of pneumonia, a common ailment during the frosty months. For someone as steadfast as you, such an illness might’ve surrendered to your stubbornness.

It might've surrendered… if your body had remained as it once was.

How unfortunate it all is, that time is so cruel to mortal creatures.

Attentive eyes detailing each crease that settled by your lips, remnants of the many grins and laughs that stretched your face.

The basking light of a selfish star catches in your hair, lush hues that have faded to brilliant ivory. A shade that you often compare to his while jesting, ‘We match now’.

However, Neuvillette begs to differ, the sunlight is much more luminous in your tresses.

Trailing his sights back to your gaze. Deep lines formed by countless dynamic expressions drew attention to the glimmer forever present in your irises. Like paths on a map that led lilac eyes to yours.

“How are you finding your stay?” At times, Neuvillette found himself wondering how the azure tides appeared from your view.

“Mm, quite uneventful, eating, staring out a window, sleeping.”

He hums in response, contemplating if he should inquire you about such subjects. As you ramble, perhaps the dragon could grasp onto an inkling of understanding.

“Well, at least I can say that my stay has been anything but lonely.” Your eyes motioning toward a corner.

The bland, sterile wall overshadowed by a mass comprised of trinkets ranging from local flowers to any object whose surface catches light.

The heap grows day by day as each Melusine continues to bring their earnest gratitude to the human who sew each stitch of their coats. A sight that could stir even the most placid lake.

“They’re such sweethearts.” Each one of your words coated with endearment.

Once more, all the dragon could respond with was a mellow hum. Slow breaths fill the complacent silence between two species, one blessed by time and one shunned by it.

Neuvillette has grown accustomed to the structure of conversations but, alas, he still has no talent for small talk.

In the absence of dialogue, the layer of short pleasantries long dissolving, Neuvillette is left with nothing but his inquiries. It was all he had left, and so it was all he could offer.

“Are there any regrets you hold?”

“Oh oh? Getting sentimental so out of the blue, Neuvi?” A familiar quirk graces your brow.

“It’s nothing of the sort, just a musing that drifted in my mind during a stroll, I wish to know your thoughts on the matter.”

“Mmm… I don’t feel that I have any regrets, living an honest life and having the fortune to never have stepped foot in the Fortress of Meropide.”

“Is that really all? You never did get to travel like you dreamed of back at the estate.”

“Haha, trying to stump me with that, Neuvi?” you chuckle.

Relaxing more into the pillows which propped up your weary frame, you trail your sights toward the window.

“Didn’t I tell you already? I’ll have plenty of time to travel once I become a cloud, I can go everywhere the sky can reach.” Smile softening on your lips.

Neuvillette’s folded hands grasp one another tighter on his lap, his own lips pressing each other into a thin line.

The conversation was teetering closer and closer to the unspoken reality looming like a shadow in the room.

He wasn’t sure when it started, maybe when the first silver strands appeared in your hair or when you discovered his skin won’t wrinkle along with you.

He wasn’t sure when your adamant belief of becoming a cloud once the shadow came to claim you started.

Neuvillette wonders if this daydream was the product of those fables you browsed when you laid upon a plush rug.

Or was it your personally crafted fable to explain the incomprehensible to a creature who couldn’t fully grasp it?

A creature whose skin didn’t wrinkle, whose bones didn’t grow brittle. A creature seemingly untouched by time.

Fairytales do serve this purpose for children, magical fantasies to make uncomfortable realities palatable to naive minds.

“...vi?... Ne…?... Neuvi.”

A hand marred with age takes hold of one glove-clad hand, and a pleasant heat radiates through the leather. Coaxing Neuvillette’s attention back from its escapade.

“My apologies, I was lost in thought for a moment.” He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

But the frown weighing down on your lips didn’t disappear, much like how retreating into musings couldn’t wash away any shadows.

Your chest moves with a deep inhale.

“Maybe I do have one regret,” you began.

Readjusting your ailing fingers in his hold so that he could hold them with equal endearment, his ears concentrate on your voice.

“Actually, I have many,” you sigh.

Before he could formulate a response, you continued.

“I wish I could have shoulder the burdens you carry. I wish you would’ve shared them with me. And I wish I could even understand them, then maybe I could have understood you more.” Turning to face him, your disheartened eyes center on his frame.

A child born from a maid, a maid who traveled to Fontaine in hopes of a better future for her child. That was your origin, an outsider with neither fame nor fortune.

Thus, even as you followed him from a secluded estate to the grand Palais Mermonia, you could never follow him in status nor influence.

As unrest grew, as injustices mounted, and as tragedies took away friends.

All you could do was repair tears, sew buttons, and pour him a crisp glass of spring water as you waited for the storm to wash despair away.

That was how you saw it. But Neuvillette rebukes that notion.

The dignity of a newly established Chief Justice, who kept stepping on his overly ornate robes, was carefully maintained by you.

The Melusine’s uniforms, which solidified their presence in the human world, were crafted by you.

The patient hand that always offered silent comfort in the suffocating courts was yours.

Standing by his side, even as your bones grew to ache, to ensure the storm would pass and the sun emerge once more.

“You’ve done more than enough.” He states the truth, grasping your hand just a bit tighter.

“Are you sure?” Those airy chuckles of yours made their appearance again.

“I never even learned your real name,” you interject.

A knife, red hot and fresh from the forge, would have hurt less than the guilt which tore through him at that moment.

The Chief Justice, the symbol of honesty and conviction, is unable to tell the simplest truth.

What shall he do now?

The power of a name is often underestimated, the exchanging of names signifying the forging of a bond. One that would forever tether him to you and you to him.

Oh, what shall he do now?

Before his hesitant lips could take action, they were halted by a squeeze from your ailing grasp. Firm and warm, like a light that guides him up from the bottom of a turbulent ocean.

“You don’t have to tell me now, Neuvi, tell me when I come back from my trip.” Those gentle eyes of yours smile at him.

Reeling his hand in closer to you with your own, until the softness of your lips was felt along covered knuckles.

A common practice in Fontaine, one Neuvillette had witnessed time and time again as he passed the lovers who congregated by the Fountain of Leucine. Actions that dedicated promises to one another.

“I swear, once I’ve traveled enough, once I grow bored of foreign scenery, I’ll fall back down like rain to your side.” You whisper into the kiss.

It was his turn now, and he shall honor this ritual. Tenderly bringing in your hand to him, Neuvillette places his oath.

“Then I swear, when you return, I’ll tell you my name.” He whispers in the kiss.

The sterile rooms echo your airy chuckles as he keeps your hand close to himself for just a bit longer.

“Mmm… Where I should go first? Maybe I’ll just amble about,” you ponder aloud.

Gracing him with a smile which stretched your face and brought that familiar glimmer into your eyes.

“I wish you well on your travels.” Neuvillette presses another kiss into your knuckles.

–

Spring was always the rainy season for Fontaine, with gentle temperate showers to welcome the budding blooms back from their Winter sleep.

However, this year the torrential downpour was anything but gentle.

Planned trips canceled for the season, clothes remaining damp in baskets, and streets empty of their vigor. Even the Melusines couldn’t bring a skip to their steps.

It was as if time itself was slowed by the burdensome downpour.

The cawing of crows as their wings beat against the dreary winds adds to the lonely hymn sung by the raindrops.

At once the cadence of the rain increased, the downpour growing heavier, and the violent pattering grew deafening. As if the sky was now belting out their sorrowful ballad.

The rain could try. The skies can cry all they would like. But time, a cruel and unforgiving mistress, won’t ever stop.

To have loved and been loved, was it truly enough?

In Neuvillete’s eyes, he was the tide and you were the shore. The ebb and flow of water as the tide and shore met, time and time again.

Each crash into the shore stirred up something perplexing and disorderly within the tide, irritating like the sand that mixed into the pristine waves.

So the tide tried to retreat into the lonesome ocean.

Each time, the shore followed through grains of sand which the tide couldn’t ever seem to purge himself of.

Each time, the shore beckoned the tide to return to the sandy beaches of humanity filled with perplexities and disorder.

And each time, the tide surrendered to the call of the shore, lured in by its warmth.

But now, the shore has eroded away.

Where does the tide go now?

Drifting now in the vastness of a lonesome ocean, carrying nothing grains of sand. What shall the tide do now?

Neuvillette still has a lot to learn, for he couldn’t answer this riddle conjured by his own mind.

Unable to stop himself, the lone dragon stares off into the rain.

Eyes honing in the direction of a peaceful hill, one where a mother and child were laid to rest side by side overlooking a homeland they never got to visit.

Maybe that was the first destination of your journey.

During these past short years spent in this land, the young successor of the dragons has gained traitorous knowledge. One that undermines his preconceived purpose.

Neuvillette feels he’s grasped onto the faintest inkling of why humans, as fickle, perplexing, and fleeting as they are, were still the most beloved creatures of the gods.

Perhaps, he even understands now why those usurpers were willing to uproot the earth just for those beloved creatures.

The wet season transitions into the dry season, then the dry season will transition into another wet season. Again and again, on and on as the hands of a clock ticks forward.

Each new tick signifies another step forward in the march of time.

Each step brings change and each step pulls the present away from the past.

The rainy season of Spring was no longer as troublesome as it once was, as there was now a machine on the market that could dry clothes without the help of a bright star.

Melusines skip along down the paved paths of the Court of Fontaine as humans turn to greet them with endearing smiles.

New cafes line bustling streets as Clockwork Mekas make their evening patrols.

A great many changes have come to Fontaine, Neuvillette witnessed them all from his office at the Palais Mermonia.

A great many changes, yet some things are bound to stay the same. For example, the Chief Justice’s fondness for strolls along vacant riverbanks.

The gentle patters of raindrops lull the chaotic sympathy of trials, paperwork, and duties to a standstill. Reaching a hand out in front of him, Neuvillette catches a few drops in the palm of his gloved hand.

Lilac eyes examine the diminutive puddle in his hand before ultimately releasing the water back to the earth.

He supposes he’s been feeling a bit nostalgic as of late, like a child recalling a story which once soothed them to a peaceful slumber. How childish it was for him to believe he could somehow catch a certain raindrop in his hands.

Turning up toward the drab sky, he searches through the endless and identical droplets that fall down and leave trails along his face.

No, not yet. Perhaps they have yet to see all that the sky has to offer.

Neuvillette returns his focus to the path in front of him. The rhythmic clacks of his shoes match with the soft drumming of the rain, and in the midst of this harmony a voice singings out:

“Hydro dragon… uh… Hydro dragon, don’t cry.”

Halting his stride. Judging by the unfamiliarity of their tongue pronouncing the lullaby, Neuvillette deduces they must be a visitor to Fontaine.

Ah that local legend, just how far has it spread? Nevertheless, an unfortunate traveler who’s unfamiliar with Fontaine’s seasons is now caught in this rain.

It would only be polite to offer them some assistance as the Iudex of this nation. Thus, he turns in the direction of the call.

His suspicions were confirmed once his gaze landed on a distressed frame, their face obscured by the jacket they held over their head in a makeshift umbrella.

It only took a few steps for the towering man to make it to their side.

“There is a tree you can take shelter under just ahead,” he advises the lost traveler.

Now aware of his presence in front of them, they lifted the jacket from their line of sight to peer up at him. Revealing the details of their face to lilac eyes for the first time.

That was all it took for the symphony of rain to come to an end.

Soft drumming decrescendos into tranquility. It seems as if there will be an earlier welcome of flowers.

“Oh?” You gaze up at the azure hue now peeking out from receding gray, astonishment reflected in the glimmer of your eyes.

You’ve only heard of a local Fontainian legend from a guide pamphlet offered to tourists as you awaited the Aquabus.

When the rain suddenly began to pour as you ambled about a riverside, in a moment of desperation as you scrambled for shelter under a thin jacket you uttered the phrase.

You weren’t sure if the hydro dragon could understand your botched pronunciation, but it looks like he did.

Turning back to face the kind stranger, you wanted to convey your amazement to him. But the words fade just off the tip of your tongue when you peek back at the towering man.

Your eyebrows scrunch together as dumbstruck eyes widen at the sight of the drenched man.

“Mister?… Are you alright?” You scan over him, turning your attention away to sift through your pockets.

How bewildering it must be for you to witness a well-dressed and noble figure drenched to the bone. However, Neuvillette made no attempt to stop the rivulets rolling down his cheeks, a parting gift from the Spring showers.

He wonders as his gaze never left your frame, were tears perhaps this warm too?

“Here.” Your concern-ridden hand offers up a neatly folded handkerchief to the drenched man.

As your eyes connect with his, a strange sensation tickled the back of your mind. As if it was trying to recall where you’ve seen the familiar lavender hue.

Maybe they matched the shade of a flower field you stumbled upon during your travels, or maybe that lilac luster was revealed to you in a dream.

A strange familiarity you couldn’t name.

“Thank you very much.” He accepts the simple piece of cloth with tenderness rivaling that of conservators handing the renowned paintings of old masters.

The clouds were long gone by now, perhaps they felt that their purpose had long been fulfilled. The golden rays of a lone star shone with all their brilliance, finally free from behind their blanket of drap clouds.

It was only now that Neuvillette found out. The rain he had been yearning for all these years did in fact see all that the sky had to offer.

They had grown bored of drifting over vast plains, missing the picturesque countryside of Fontaine. Or perhaps their curiosity grew too great, wishing to finally hear a truth that was kept from them.

So much so, they quietly fell down from the sky, to return to his side again.

Much like the hands in a clock, the cycle of water and earth follows a similar circular path.

The rain had eroded away stubborn earth with its diligent drumming over the years.

Bit by bit and piece by piece until stone fractures into bits of sand. Over and over until a sandy beach was formed by the side of a patient sea.

Then the tide will reunite with its long-awaited shore, to return the sand and promise it cradled within its waves for so long.

~Fin

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

#vivalabunbunfics #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette #genshin impact x reader #genshin angst #genshin fluff #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #neuvillete x reader #neuvilette x reader #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette angst #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #neuvillette headcanons #neuvillette x y/n #neuvilette x you

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navybrat817 · 2 months

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Wish, Hope, Dream

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You thought a night would be long enough to clear your head, but a bit of doubt lingers in your mind. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Slight angst, insecurities, longing, Natasha and Sharon being both good friends and devil's advocates, ongoing AU, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) Previous Part of AU: We Don't Talk Anymore A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! Sorry again in advance, lovelies. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You thought having answers would give you peace and allow you to rest before facing Bucky in the morning. Oh, how wrong you were. The tussle between your mind and heart didn’t stop, giving you one of the worst nights of sleep that you could remember in a long time. At least your pillow had dried from your tears.

And what was it that you were crying for? Relief that Bucky had feelings for you or were you mourning the lost time you could’ve had together had you two talked sooner? Perhaps both.

“Just get up,” you mumbled, willing yourself to get out of bed and lay out a random sundress to wear.

You wondered if anyone else was awake as you showered and brushed your teeth. Guilt crept in for skipping out on game night. Whatever transpired between you and Bucky, you couldn't let any of those feelings bleed into the rest of the time with your friends. You had to suck it up no matter the outcome.

Glancing down the hall as you left your room, your gaze lingered on Bucky’s door before your footsteps moved in that direction. You raised your hand to knock, wanting to check on him and make sure he got enough sleep. Part of you was tempted to sneak in and crawl into bed with him. Not even completely for sex, which you did not need to think about, but to have him hold you close and assure you that everything would be okay.

And to stop torturing yourself.

But you let your hand fall. You didn't want to assume that he wanted to see you first thing upon waking up. Assumptions and not communicating were what led you on this path to begin with. But you didn't want to smother him.

We can still figure it out together.

You crept downstairs, spotting a few empty bottles from the night before. The main floor was dark, minus the sunlight coming in through the windows and the kitchen. You stayed quiet when you saw Natasha and Sharon huddled together in a hushed conversation by the counter.

Which stopped the moment you walked into the room.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were talking about you. Not with the concerned look in Sharon’s eyes. Natasha, on the other hand, stared back at you in contemplation. At least it wasn't pity. You couldn't take that.

Did Bucky tell them? Or did they figure it out?

“Hey. Sorry for skipping game night,” you said, shifting on your feet as your gaze flickered between them. “Guess Steve and Sam aren't up yet?” You asked, purposely not mentioning Bucky.

“Don’t need to apologize,” Sharon said, concern continuing to show in her eyes. “I think they’re getting a run in.”

“Oh. Gotcha,” you said. Looking between them again, you hoped things wouldn't be this awkward for the rest of the week. “Am I interrupting? I can just grab breakfast when you two are done.”

“Not interrupting. Go sit in the living room,” Natasha urged, nodding toward the direction of the couch. “Look like you could use a pick-me-up.”

“Smoothie?” You guessed, glancing around at the array of fruit ready for blending.

“Oh, yeah. Better than coffee,” the redhead teased as she threw a few pieces into the blender with some ice, bringing a small smile to your face as you went back to the living room. She was a good friend.

All of them were.

“You okay?” Sharon asked, sitting beside you on the couch.

You hesitated for a moment. You adored them and always would. But when it came to Bucky, you feared everyone would always side with him over you. Your chest tightened at the thought that if things went south you’d get left behind.

And hadn't you been left behind once before?

“Yes and no,” you answered, not wanting to expand completely yet as Natasha walked in and handed you a glass, your hands gripping it tight. They didn't need to deal with your issues, did they? “Did Bucky talk to everyone? I’m guessing he said something since you two are looking at me like I'm going to break.”

“We don’t think you’re going to break, but you look on edge,” Natasha answered, taking a seat when you didn't disagree. “The guys talked to him a little bit. He wouldn't give them all the details, but we know you two had a long overdue chat.”

“And the way you bolted upstairs last night and how he looked like a kicked puppy, we guessed it didn't go well,” Sharon added, raising an eyebrow. “I think Nat wanted to kick his ass.”

“He looked like he kicked his own ass. Would've just been rubbing salt in an open wound if I did anything else,” she said with no trace of humor. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It may help,” Sharon said.

Maybe.

With a deep breath, you told the girls what had happened. How you and Bucky admitted that you had feelings for each other, which neither of them appeared surprised by in the least, but that you walked away from him once the talk was over. How you wished you would’ve given him a chance then and there, but didn’t. It helped and hurt to tell them about it.

You hung your head by the time you finished, your throat tight. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, swallowing a little. “This is supposed to be a fun trip and I’m messing it up with my issues.”

Sharon rubbed your back as you took a sip of your smoothie. “Hey. You’re our friend. You didn't do anything wrong or mess anything up, okay? We all love Bucky, but he's an idiot.”

“Huge idiot. Don't know what you see in him,” Natasha winked as you scoffed. You would always try to see the good in him, even when you were upset. “But I have to say, I’m glad you two finally told each other how you feel.”

“Took you long enough,” the blonde teased halfheartedly. “Kind of hoped you would've said something before we showed up.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. The gang ran late to the beach house on purpose. Of course, they did. The girls were perceptive. Always had been. “So, you knew.”

“Everyone knew, except for the two of you. What’s that trope?” Natasha questioned, her gaze directed at Sharon. “Idiots in love?”

“Oh, yeah,” she smiled. “You two are a walking romance novel, torturing yourselves for no good reason.”

“So, I'm an idiot then?” you said, narrowing your eyes when they both opened their mouths. “You know what? Don’t answer that.”

You beat yourself up enough.

“Like I said, I’m glad you told him and now you finally have confirmation that he feels the same way,” Natasha said, cocking an eyebrow. “What's the problem then?”

“What do you mean?” You replied.

“You said you took the night to think, but you don't exactly look like you're ready to move forward.”

“Because I don't know if I am,” you admitted.

You were overthinking the situation. You wanted to be with Bucky, but some of your wall was still up and you didn't know how to tear the rest of it down. Why was it so hard?

“Look, I'm not excusing what Bucky did because he's an idiot for going out with Dot instead of talking to you, but you know how he feels now,” Natasha began, diplomatic and level-headed like always. “Do you plan to keep him at a distance as a way to protect yourself? Or are you maybe punishing him just a little bit for seemingly abandoning you?”

Leave it to her to ask the tough questions.

“I'm not trying to punish him,” you promised. Both of you had punished yourselves enough. “I just don't want him to hurt me. I mean, I spent two years thinking he'd never want me, but he just didn't want to fight for me,” you said, tears brimming your eyes.

“Or maybe he thought he never stood a chance and settled,” Sharon said. “Which, again, he’s an idiot. Most guys are.”

“So, what are you saying? That I should just pretend the last two years didn't happen?” You asked.

“No,” they said in sync.

You huffed. Why were girls both direct and cryptic? “Then what are you saying?”

Natasha grabbed a tissue and handed it over when a tear slid down your cheek. “We’re saying that we think Bucky is genuinely sorry for his stupid assumption and wants you to be his girl. Start slow if you have to and set the ground rules. If it means him apologizing every day with his words and actions, he will. And we know if you gave him your heart, it would be the last thing he'd break. Don’t you owe it to yourself to be happy?”

“Yeah. Maybe just start with a date,” Sharon said, tilting her head when you didn’t say anything. They were only trying to help, but why did it feel like pressure of sorts? Did they fully understand your apprehension? “You really don't see how he looks at you, do you?”

“Why would I when I convinced myself he'd never want me?” You whispered.

Bucky had convinced himself of the same thing. Maybe the two of you were idiots. How long would you continue to torture yourself? They had a point. Why not start with one date and see where it led?

What would be the harm in that, besides risking your whole heart?

“Well, we see how he looks at you,” Sharon said, her eyebrows shooting up. “Wait. I have it.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Have what?” She asked. You wondered the same thing.

The front door opened before you got your answer, your heart skipping a beat when Bucky stopped in the doorway with a beach bag in hand. You realized after a moment that he was still in the same clothes he wore the day before, his eyes bloodshot as he looked your way. His hair was disheveled, too. He didn’t look like he slept well, if at all.

It broke your heart.

“Hey, Butterfly,” he croaked when you got to your feet, clearing his throat with a tired smile. “You look beautiful.”

“It’s just a sundress, Dreamboat,” you said, the compliment making your stomach flip before you took a step toward him. “Are you okay?”

His eyes lit up. “You’re still calling me that?”

“Of course, I am.” you smiled softly. He’d always be your Dreamboat. “Did you get any sleep?” You added, sighing when he confirmed your suspicion with a shake of his head. Had you been on his mind? “Why not?”

He gripped the bag handle like a lifeline. “I needed to find a way to say I’m sorry. Tried writing a letter and it wasn't enough.”

Your heart swelled, glancing back at the girls as they both gave you an encouraging smile. “Look. Before you do anything, why don’t you take a nap?” You suggested. “It’s still early and I’m not going anywhere.”

“A nap sounds like a good idea before volleyball,” Natasha said, leveling Bucky with a look. “In fact, why don’t you get him to bed?”

“Nat,” you hissed. Of course, she’d suggest you take him upstairs.

“Yeah, we’ll catch up with you two in a bit,” Sharon said.

The hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes was irresistible. “Come on,” you said, taking his arm once he kicked his shoes off. You felt his gaze on you as you took him up the stairs. It amazed you that he didn’t trip over his own feet since he kept his eyes on you. “I can tell you’re staring at me.”

“I half expected you to be gone this morning,” he said, opening his door. “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

Your stomach dropped. “You think I’d bolt after the conversation we had?” You asked. Did he think little of you now?

He chuckled under his breath. “I said half expected,” he teased.

Instead of releasing your arm, he pulled you into his room before you could protest. It wasn’t a good idea to be there, yet there you were. Not fighting it as he pulled you toward the bed.

His large, inviting bed.

“So, what’s in the bag?” You asked curiously to distract yourself as he set it down and stretched out on the bed, pulling you down with him. He gave you plenty of room so you wouldn’t have to cuddle close. He also left the door cracked open.

He was giving you an out.

“I can’t show you yet because I have to put it together,” he yawned, giving you an apologetic smile. “It’ll spoil the surprise otherwise.”

A giddy smile appeared on your face. He was actually going to make you something. “I’ll be patient,” you said, letting him keep your hand in his.

“Haven’t we been patient long enough?” He asked, his hair falling in his eyes as he gazed at you. Even exhausted, he was breathtaking. “I know you needed the night to think it over.”

The smile fell from your face, silence stretching in the room before you squeezed his hand. “Bucky, you need to get some sleep.”

He couldn’t mask the dejected look on his face. It wasn’t an outright rejection, but you hadn’t exactly declared that you should move forward. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said, his voice thick. “All I could see were the tears in your eyes and knowing I caused them.”

“It’s okay,” you told him. It was an assurance for yourself, too. You were okay and he hadn't tried to hurt you.

“It’s not okay,” he argued, the familiar determination back in his eyes. “And I don’t want to sleep. I want to make you smile. I want to win you a stuffed animal at the carnival.”

“You promised me that at dinner yesterday,” you teased.

“I want to take you dancing,” he added, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You could easily picture him smiling as he twirled you around and moved to the beat. Maybe that could be your first actual date. “As long as you don’t step on my feet.”

“I want to take you to bed,” he whispered,

You inhaled, your heart pounding at the implication. “Bucky…”

“I want to hear about your day. The little things, even the details that you think are mundane,” he said, scooting a bit closer. “I want to be the one you talk to and depend on again.”

Each declaration worked its way into your heart. Why couldn’t you just take the leap of faith? “We can’t just-”

“I want you to be my girl,” he said, his face inches from yours. “I want to give you everything.”

Your heart screamed at you to comfort him, kiss him, to tell him the same. “Bucky, you’re not giving me anything until you get some sleep,” you whispered, resting a hand on his cheek. He needed rest. “Please, for me?”

“I’m afraid if I close my eyes, I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone,” he whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open. “I can't lose you again.”

You didn't want to lose him either. “You won't lose me because I’m not going anywhere. I said we’d figure this out together and I meant that,” you promised, needing to give him hope. “Close your eyes. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He finally shut them as he breathed out, “Butterfly, I lo…”

You gasped as Bucky trailed off, smiling to yourself as your eyes misted over. You weren’t going to run. Not from him. Not when you owed it to yourself to be happy.

You told yourself that as his phone rang.

Even as Dot’s name showed on the screen.

It's fine, lovelies! 😭 Things will look up. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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psychedelic-ink · 1 month

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘

ㅤㅤjoel miller x plus size!f!reader

genre: romance, flowershop au, jackson era, minors dni

word count: 7k

summary: you own a small flower shop in Jackson, when Ellie comes to visit, your life inevitably becomes tangled with the man who cares for her; joel miller.

warnings: age gap, piv in the middle of a flower field, no one sees, praise kink, some angst because joel, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: hello everyone! it's been a while and honestly, life has been kicking me in the gut lately with everything its got.

This originally was a commission, reader had a name and I've been working at it for months but sadly the person who commissioned be backed out last second saying they weren't interested anymore meaning I'm not getting paid for this work. Again, it's on me. Admittedly I've been slow on commissions due to my living situation and work and I should've taken half the payment upfront but trusting it was a joel fic I didn't really take extra precautions.

I decided to share it anyway, and the person who commissioned me said that I could. Any kind of writing has been hard for me to do lately and I really like how this one turned out. But since now I'm not getting paid for this work I decided to take out readers name and make some changes to the overall plot that I was given.

Sadly, I can't take any more commissions at the moment before finishing the ones I have left, but I'd be grateful for any kind of support you guys can give. I need to move out this summer (if I don't, I don't have a shadow of a doubt that my aunts will tell me to leave anyway) and I've been trying to save up as much as I can. Everything just has been a lot lately and I'm feeling anxious about my decisions and lost.

Again, any kind of support is greatly appreciated even tho I know I don't deserve it at this time:

my kofi

**dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜

You unlock the door to your quaint flower shop, the antique bell that you found and Tommy fixed chiming softly in greeting. Stepping outside, you're immediately embraced by the warmth of the morning sun, its golden rays dancing playfully on your skin. The air carries the unmistakable scent of spring, a delicate blend of fresh blossoms and earthy notes that fills your lungs with every inhale.

Dressed in a flowing dress, you feel perfectly in tune with the season as you begin arranging the colorful array of flowers on display outside your shop. The fabric of your dress sways gently in the breeze, a soft symphony of movement that mirrors the graceful dance of the petals.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and tilt your face towards the sky, basking in the gentle caress of the sun's rays. Above you, the cerulean expanse is dotted with fluffy white clouds, their shapes shifting and morphing with each passing moment.

With practiced hands, you arrange the blooms with care, each stem finding its place in the intricate tapestry of colors and textures. The vibrant hues of the flowers contrast beautifully against the backdrop of the weathered brick walls of your shop, creating a scene that's both inviting and enchanting.

As you work, you can't help but smile at the thought of the joy these flowers will bring to those who pass by. It’s been hard adopting to a new and broken world, but ironically, you have found your passion. Something to make you eager to get up in the morning. Of course your heart still ached for those you had lost, the suffering, but working on flowers, something living and growing and adapting just like you managed to lighten the weight on your heart. Whether it's a simple bouquet to brighten someone's day or a thoughtful arrangement for a special occasion, your creations have a way of spreading happiness and light wherever they go.

With the last of the flowers arranged to perfection, you step back to admire your handiwork, a sense of pride swelling within you. With a contented sigh, you turn to head back inside, ready to greet the day with open arms and a heart full of gratitude.

That is, until, you hear a surprised gasp.

“Holy shit—”

Turning around at the sound, you're met with the sight of a familiar face. A young girl you've seen around town quite frequently. You haven’t officially met her yet, but you know her name: Ellie.

Realizing that the young girl has never visited your flower shop before, you understand the source of her surprise. With a warm smile, you approach her and greet her by name. "You're Ellie, right? Tommy's niece?"

Ellie nods enthusiastically, her eyes bright with excitement. "Yeah, that's me! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I've just never been here before. The flowers are... fucking amazing—"

She suddenly claps a hand over her mouth, looking towards you apologetically. The gesture makes you laugh.

"I'm glad you like them," you reply, feeling a sense of satisfaction at her reaction. "Feel free to take a closer look if you'd like."

Her eyes light up at the invitation, and she eagerly follows you inside the cozy flower shop. The atmosphere inside is warm and inviting, with shelves lined with potted plants and bouquets of flowers in various stages of bloom. Sunlight filters through the windows, casting a soft glow over the space and illuminating the vibrant colors of the blooms.

As you lead Ellie further into the shop, you can't help but notice the curious glances she casts around, taking in every detail with a sense of wonder. The air is filled with the subtle fragrance of flowers, a delicate scent that lingers in the air and adds to the charm of the space.

"So, Ellie," you begin, breaking the comfortable silence as you approach a display of freshly cut flowers, "Anything you like? I’d be more than happy to gift you some."

Ellie's eyes sparkle with excitement as she looks around the shop. "Really? But there’s so many, how can I even choose?"

"Well, you're in luck," you reply, gesturing towards the colorful blooms around you. "I can just make you a bouquet of everything. Just pick out your favorites."

Ellie's gaze drifts over the display, her expression thoughtful as she considers your question. "Hmm, that's a tough one, they all look so fucking cool," she muses, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration. "How about sunflowers and. . . daisies? There's just something about them that feels... I don't know, hopeful, I guess."

You nod in understanding, a fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Sunflowers are a wonderful choice. They symbolize warmth, happiness, and positivity. Definitely a fitting choice for someone as vibrant as you, Ellie."

She grins at the compliment, "Thanks,. So, what about you? Do you have a favorite flower?"

“That’s a tough one, but I’d had to say daffodils. They just make me feel right at home. . . even though home has become a difficult word.”

She doesn’t answer you, at least not in a way that you would expect. She nods and says,

"Let's add some daffodils to the mix too. If that’s okay.”

“If course it is. I said any flower didn’t I?”

With Ellie's choices in mind, you set to work gathering the blooms she selected, expertly arranging them into a vibrant bouquet. Your hands move with practiced precision, the gentle rustle of petals and stems filling the air as you weave the different flowers together.

Each blossom is a work of art in its own right, vibrant hues mingling together in a harmonious dance of colors and textures. Sunflowers, with their golden petals reaching towards the sky, stand tall and proud at the center of the bouquet, symbolizing warmth and happiness. Daisies, with their delicate white petals and cheerful yellow centers, add a touch of innocence and purity to the mix. And finally, the daffodils.

Beside you, Ellie watches with rapt attention, her eyes shining, "It's so pretty," she remarks, her voice filled with awe.

You smile at her words, feeling a sense of pride swell within you at the sight of her delight. "Flowers have a way of bringing joy and beauty into our lives," you reply, your voice soft with reverence. "They remind us to appreciate the simple things and to find beauty in the world around us."

Finally, the bouquet is complete, a stunning masterpiece that radiates warmth and joy. You present it to Ellie with a flourish, a sense of satisfaction washing over you at the sight of her delighted expression.

"It's perfect," Ellie exclaims, her eyes shining with excitement as she admires the bouquet in her hands. "Thank you so much. This is amazing."

"It was my pleasure," you reply, your heart swelling with happiness at her words. "I'm glad you like it. And remember, if you ever want to learn more about flowers or need some help with anything, you know where to find me."

Ellie nods eagerly, her enthusiasm infectious. "Definitely. Thanks again. This means a lot."

As Ellie turns to leave, a sudden thought seems to strike her. She pauses, her hand on the door, before turning back to face you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Hey," she begins, a playful smile dancing on her lips, "do you need a flower assistant? I mean, I’d be nice to work here, and you seem really cool."

"Well, Ellie," you reply with a teasing grin, "If you're serious about helping out around here, I'd be more than happy to have you on board."

Ellie's eyes widen,. "Wait, really?" she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You mean it?"

You nod, your smile genuine as you reassure her. "Of course. I could use all the help I can get, especially during busy times. And besides, it'll be fun having you around. Consider yourself officially hired as my flower assistant, Ellie."

A grin spreads across Ellie's face, her eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of working alongside you in the flower shop. "Wow, I don't even know what to say," she admits, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

"No need to say anything," you grin. "Just don’t be late."

As Ellie nods, a sense of anticipation fills the air, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in both of your lives. With a shared sense of excitement and determination, you and Ellie set to work, ready to take on whatever challenges and adventures the future may hold for your blossoming partnership.

The next day unfolds with a golden hue, promising another beautiful day in Jackson. As you prepare for the day ahead, a sense of excitement tingles in the air knowing that you'll be mentoring Ellie, your newfound flower assistant. Ellie arrives earlier than you expected, her eyes oozing with sleep.

"Good morning, Ellie," you greet her with a warm smile, gesturing for her to come closer. "Ready for your first day?"

Ellie grins back, nodding enthusiastically. "Absolutely. I’m just not used to waking up so early."

With a chuckle, you lead her to the work table, where several potted plants await repotting. However, before diving into the day's tasks, Ellie's curiosity gets the better of her.

"How do you find all these flowers?" she asks. "I mean, with the infected and everything, it must be hard."

"I have a few spots outside of Jackson where I like to go to collect flowers. There's a field not too far from here that's brimming with all sorts of blooms."

Ellie's eyes widen and you can tell she's intrigued by the idea of venturing beyond the safety of the town's walls. "That sounds amazing," she breathes, her voice filled with wonder. "Do you go there often?"

You nod, a fond smile playing on your lips as you recall the countless trips you've taken to the flower field. "Yes, whenever I need to restock or find something special," you reply. "But I've also started growing some flowers myself. It's a work in progress, but it's been rewarding to see them bloom."

"That's so cool," she exclaims. "I'd love to see the field sometime, if you're up for it."

With a grin, you nod, "I'd be happy to take you," you reply. "But for now, let's focus on getting these plants repotted. We'll save the field trip for another day."

As if on cue, the shop door swings open, and a customer steps inside, a worn backpack slung over their shoulder. They approach the counter with a friendly smile, their eyes scanning the colorful array of blooms on display.

"Good morning," you greet them with a smile, your attention shifting to the customer. "How can I help you today?"

The customer returns your smile, reaching into their backpack to retrieve a small item wrapped in cloth. "I have something to trade," they explain, placing the item on the counter before you.

You unwrap the cloth to reveal a delicate piece of jewelry, a handmade necklace adorned with intricate beads and charms. It's a beautiful piece, clearly crafted with care and attention to detail.

Ellie watches with interest as you examine the necklace, her curiosity piqued by the exchange taking place before her eyes. "What are you trading for?" she asks, her voice filled with curiosity.

You glance at Ellie with a smile, impressed by her keen observation. "Well, Ellie, sometimes customers trade items in exchange for flowers," you explain, turning back to the customer. "It's a way for them to get something they need while also supporting the shop. As for how I decide what the flowers are worth, it's based on a few factors—like the rarity of the flowers, the time and effort it took to grow them, and of course, their beauty."

With a nod, you accept the necklace, carefully placing it aside before selecting a beautiful bouquet of flowers to offer in exchange. As the customer leaves the shop, their smile brighter than before, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you've made another person's day a little bit brighter.

“Ellie, I’m not sure me bargin’ into your new workplace is the best introduction,” Joel says.

“You’ll be fine,” she says, dragging Joel by the arm. “Besides, weren’t you the one grumbling about not liking me spending all my time with a stranger? What else was I fucking supposed to do?”

Joel lets out an elongated sigh. “Language.”

He can’t see it, but he knows she’s rolling her eyes at him. The tiny, rundown flower shop soon comes into view and Joel can’t help but think of all the improvements he could make: the crooked step, the splintered door, the moss growing from the bottom of the woody exterior—

This shop won’t last next winter, he thinks with furrowed brows. And even though he’s been skeptical about Ellie spending all of her time here, he’s seen the improvement in her mood. Things just haven’t been the same since their return from the hospital, he couldn’t shake the distant feeling between him and her no matter how hard he tried. It had become something even he couldn’t fix.

But then, one day, she’d come home with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers he’d ever seen, with a wide smile plastered across her young face. Then she mentioned the keeper of the shop. Ever since then, his interest had been piqued.

Approaching the shop, he notices a figure outside arranging flowers, your silhouette bathed in the warm morning sun. You appear younger than he anticipated, your beauty catching him off guard. The way your dress contours your curves adds to your allure, a sight unexpected yet captivating. A gentle breeze tousles your hair as you work, momentarily leaving him speechless.

Contrasting his hesitation, you bound up to the shop with your usual cheerfulness. "Hey there!" Ellie calls out. The woman turns at her greeting, a genuine smile gracing her lips as she sets down the flowers. "Good morning!"

He hangs back, observing as Ellie effortlessly initiates a conversation with you. Your interaction flows with ease, suggesting a familiarity beyond your brief acquaintance.

While you chat, an unsettling feeling settles within him. There's an inexplicable pull towards the shop owner, despite his attempts to resist. Watching Ellie interact with you stirs a strange longing within him, leaving him more unsettled than before.

Before he can dwell on his thoughts further, Ellie snaps him out of it. "Joel, don’t be a stranger! Introduce yourself, she's the one I've been telling you about."

With a sigh, he steps forward, his approach cautious. As your eyes meet, a peculiar sense of recognition passes between you, as if you've crossed paths in another life.

"Hi," he manages to say, his voice gruff yet not devoid of warmth. "I'm Joel."

As he clasps your hand, a spark ignites between you, a connection unfurling with each passing moment.

“Joel?” you say slowly, as if tasting his name in your mouth. “Joel as in Tommy Miller’s brother?”

Your hand feels soft and delicate as it clasps his own, and he can't help but notice the subtle tremor in your fingers. It's a small detail, but it speaks volumes, hinting at a vulnerability that he hadn't expected from this beautiful stranger.

"Yeah, that's me," he responds with a nod, offering a friendly smile in return. "Tommy's my brother."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Joel. Ellie speaks very highly of you."

As you exchange pleasantries, he finds himself drawn to the warmth in your gaze, a warmth that seems to seep into his very soul. There's an openness about you, a genuineness that he finds both refreshing and disarming.

While you talk, he can't help but be captivated by the way your lips move, the gentle cadence of your voice. It's a strange sensation, this sudden fascination with a woman he's just met, but he finds himself unable to look away.

Your conversation is interrupted by Ellie's playful interruption, and he reluctantly tears his gaze away from you, feeling a pang of disappointment at the thought of leaving your side. But as they follow Ellie into the shop, he can't shake the feeling that meeting you has stirred something within him, something that he can't quite articulate.

Entering the shop, he can't help but notice even more things wrong– the creaky floorboards, the peeling paint, the flickering lights overhead. It's evident that the place is in dire need of renovations.

Despite the less-than-ideal surroundings, Ellie's excitement is contagious, and he finds himself getting swept up in the moment. She points out various flowers, their vibrant hues and delicate petals bringing a welcome burst of color to the dreary environment.

"These lilies are my absolute favorite," Ellie exclaims, thrusting a handful of flowers towards him with a mischievous grin.

He can't suppress a surprised sneeze as the pollen tickles his nose, and they both dissolve into laughter,and momentarily, all his concerns seem to fade away.

But just as they're catching their breath, you enter the room, your presence once again capturing his attention. There's something about you that intrigues him, a warmth and kindness that draws him in effortlessly.

A sheepish smile spreads across his face as your eyes meet. You return the smile, your gaze gentle and understanding, and for a fleeting moment, it feels as though you're the only two people in the room.

“Who helped you fix the place up?” Joel asks you as Ellie runs off to change the water of the vases. “

"Tommy actually," you explain. "He's been a tremendous help, especially with all the repairs."

Joel’s brows knit together and he ignores the way your smile falters as he speaks, “Well, leave it to my brother to do a shit job. This shop won’t last next winter.”

“O–Oh. . .” you hug yourself, thumbs moving along the contours of your arms. His heart sinks in, leave it to him to make someone feel bad.

“Not to say it can’t be fixed,” he continues abruptly. “I can help you out. Wouldn’t want Ellie’s new favorite spot to get buried under the snow.”

“Really?” you gasp, smile returning. “You would do that?”

“‘Course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just. . . I just wasn’t expecting such an offer thank you. It means the world to me.”

Suddenly Joel feels stiff from how deeply you stare at him, and then he realizes how close they are, only a breath away between their lips. He turns his head, grunting, “Don’t mention it,” a stuttered breath leaves him. “Really. Don’t.”

Your growing smile surprises him, as does your not backing away.

“You got it, Mr. Miller.”

Watching Joel work on fixing the roof of the shop, you can't help but feel a flutter of warmth stir within you. His muscles ripple with each movement, his arms bulging with strength as he lifts heavy beams and hammers nails into place. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead, catching the sunlight and creating a halo of light around him.

You find yourself mesmerized by the sight, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of him. His white tank top clings to his chest, damp with sweat, and the short-sleeved flannel he wears hangs open, exposing the tank top underneath. Every movement sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to your cheeks.

The sound of his grunts fills the air, low and guttural, and it sends a thrill through you that you can't quite explain. There's something primal about the way he works, a raw energy that draws you in and leaves you feeling breathless.

You watch as he reaches up to adjust a beam, his muscles flexing with the effort, and you can't help but imagine what it would feel like to run your hands over his warm, sweaty skin. The thought sends a shudder coursing through you, and you quickly look away, feeling flustered and embarrassed by the intensity of your thoughts.

But no matter how hard you try to focus on something else, your gaze keeps drifting back to Joel, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And as you watch him work, you can't help but feel a strange sense of longing stir within.

But for now, all you can do is watch and admire from afar, content to bask in the warmth of Joel's presence as he works tirelessly to repair the roof of the shop. And as you watch him, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over you.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself with determination as you clutch the bowl of freshly picked black mulberries and raspberries in your hands. With a quick glance up at Joel, who is perched precariously on the ladder, you gather your courage and make your way outside.

"Hey, Joel!" you call out, your voice tinged with nervousness as you approach the ladder. "I brought you some fruit and iced tea. Thought you could use a break."

Joel looks down at you with a grateful smile, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Thanks. That sounds great."

As he descends the ladder, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement mingled with nervousness. With each step he takes, you steal glances at him, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of him.

But it's when he reaches the bottom of the ladder and stretches upwards to take the bowl of fruit from your hands that you feel your breath catch in your throat. The movement causes his tank top to ride up slightly, revealing a sliver of his stomach, and you swallow thickly at the sight.

As Joel settles down to enjoy the fruit and iced tea, you find yourself drawn to the empty spot next to him on the porch. With a nervous glance in his direction, you take a seat beside him.

The warmth of the wooden porch beneath you contrasts with the cool breeze that sweeps through, and you can't help but feel a sense of calm settle over you as you sit beside Joel. The silence between you is comfortable, broken only by the occasional sound of birds chirping in the distance.

“Lovely day, ain’t it,” Joel takes a bite of the freshly picked black mulberries, the deep purple juice stains his lips, a stark contrast against the ruggedness of his features, and you find yourself mesmerized by the sight.

The juice glistens in the fading sunlight, tracing a vivid trail along his lips as he savors the sweetness of the fruit. Each movement of his jaw seems deliberate, each bite a study in pleasure as he indulges in the simple pleasure of the moment.

A soft breeze rustles through the trees, lifting strands of his hair and sending them dancing in the golden light. But your gaze remains fixed on his lips.

The silence and sight makes you light-headed and eager to say anything, no matter how idiotic it might be.

“Aren't you a little old to be doing this much heavy lifting?”

“Aren't you a little too young to be lookin’ at me like that?”

Your shoulders rise, blood rushing to your head as you look down. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest. Butterflies flutter madly within you, the wings tickling the insides of your stomach. You only swallow. “Your lips are stained from the mulberry.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

He takes another one, biting down with his lips, he finds your gaze. You watch a tiny drop go down his chin. The two of you are close. So incredibly close. It’s been like this since he started working on the shop. A pull that is too hard to ignore.

“Well,” he breaks the silence. “Better finish up before the sun sets.”

Joel stands and your heart breaks a little. You blink from where you’re sat, staring at him, yearning for him.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want you trying to find your way home in the dark.”

“You know, I could’ve come here on my own. I always do.”

“I know. Just wanted to make sure you have someone lookin’ after you.”

“For someone to be known as a grump, you’re quite a softie.”

“I’m leavin’.”

“No—!”

Your fingers close around his arm, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine. For a moment, you find yourself frozen in place, your pulse quickening as you realize just how close you are to him.

Joel's gaze meets yours, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes, something that makes your heart race even faster. His eyes drop to your lips, lingering there for a moment before snapping back up to meet your gaze. You notice the hints of a fading smile, “You were joking,” you say slowly, letting go of him.

“That I was, wildflower,” he doesn’t move away and neither do you. Your breath catches within your throat, the moment stretching between your two like rubber. Before you can say anything Joel’s eyes flicker to something behind you and he smiles. “I think we’re here.”

As you turn around, your heart skips a beat. The field of flowers stretches out endlessly, a sea of color and beauty that seems to go on forever. The grass has grown taller since the last time you were here, swaying gently in the breeze and creating a soft, rhythmic rustle that fills the air.

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the landscape and setting the flowers ablaze with color. Reds and yellows, blues and purples, a riot of hues that dance and swirl in the gentle breeze.

You take a step forward, the grass crunching beneath your feet as you walk further into the field. The scent of poppies and blue hyacinths fills your nostrils, sweet and intoxicating, and you can't help but close your eyes and breathe it in.

The wind sweeps across the field, sending waves of grass rippling in its wake. The sound is soothing, a gentle whisper that seems to carry you away on a tide of tranquility.

For a moment, you forget about everything else – the worries and the doubts, the uncertainties and the fears. All that matters is the beauty of this moment, the beauty of this place, and the beauty of being here with Joel.

With a rush of emotion swirling within you, you turn to Joel, your heart pounding in your chest as you meet his gaze. He's still standing close, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that takes your breath away.

Without thinking, without hesitating, you lean forward and press your lips to his. At first, Joel is taken aback, his body stiffening in surprise. But then, he caves, his lips moving against yours in a slow, tender rhythm.

His hands come up to cradle your face, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. You feel his tongue on your bottom lip and open up for him eagerly, the taste of him feels like electricity shooting through you. Heat pools between your legs, Your breasts tingle with the mere thought of having his hands on them, nipples aching and hard.

Joel breaks away briefly, then closes the distance again. Small hisses against your swollen lips over and over until neither of you can breathe. He hungers for it almost. And so do you. “Joel,” you whisper, eyes cloudy. “Please.”

“Is that what you want, wildflower?” he drags his nose down the side of your cheek, facial hair scratching delightfully against the sensitive skin of your neck. “For me to fuck you here? Right out in the open?” his voice trembles. “Like animals?”

“God, yes—” your insides clench. “I would want nothing more. Been thinking about you since the day I met you, your hands, your mouth, you as a whole.”

His hands drop to your ass and he gives the tender flesh a strong squeeze, “You want me?”

“I do.”

You suddenly find yourself on the ground, the grass tickling your exposed legs and arms, the skirt of your dress rolled up to your waist. Joel’s weight is a welcoming comfort on top of you, another gust of warm wind blows. With a groan, he pulls down the sweetheart neckline of your dress, exposing both your breasts. While holding one, he kisses the other, drawing the stiff nipple into his mouth. He sucks harshly, your body jolting with pleasure. The soaking mess between your legs grows.

“Joel,” you moan, back arching. “Fuck—”

He swirls the tip of his tongue around the nipple and grazes his teeth against it. Calloused fingers play with the other. Your mind is swimming in pleasure. He brings the skirt of your dress further up and traces his lips down the fabric, when you look down, you see him between your legs, his eyes darker than normal as he stares into your soul. The tips of his fingers dance along the elastic of your panties, asking for permission.

You breathe out a yes, barely audible, but he nods and tugs the fabric down. When he latches his mouth on to you, the world stops. His mouth feels divine. His tongue delves between your folds, the bridge of his nose rubbing against your clit. You shudder against him and he moans into you. The reverberations of the sound force a gasp out of you and you swear you feel him smiling.

His fingers trace patterns along your thighs, teasing and stroking as his mouth works wonders between your legs. You're on the edge, the pleasure building up with each flick of his tongue. You reach down and bury your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, guiding him where you need him the most.

Joel picks up the pace, his tongue moving faster, his fingers slipping inside of you. You can feel your body starting to tighten, the coil in your stomach about to unravel. You grip onto him tighter, your hips bucking against his mouth, and with one final flick of his tongue, you come undone.

You cry out his name, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. Joel continues to lightly lick and suck, drawing out your pleasure until you're completely spent. He makes his way back up to your lips, kissing you deeply as you both catch your breath.

“That was…” you trail off, unable to find the right words for the mind-blowing experience you just had.

“Amazin’,” Joel finishes for you.

You nod, still a little breathless. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your body against his. Joel's hands roam over your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You can feel his erection against your thigh, and you know that he needs release just as much as you do.

“Been so long since I’ve tasted somethin’ this sweet,” he rasps. “Thank you.”

You hear the blood rushing in your ears, “You’re the sweet one,” you mumble, tenderly touching the scratchy surface of his cheek. “So sweet.”

He smiles and as he kisses the curve of your palm, shuffles above you, starting to get up. A deep frown forms between your brows. “And where are you going?” you pout, wrapping your arms around him. You feel the outline of his length as he lowers himself once more, the tips of your noses brushing against one another.

“I thought you wanted to gather some flowers.”

“Not yet,” you murmur, eyes glazed. “At least, not before feeling you inside me.”

“Fuck, darlin’,” he lets out a whimpering breath, grinding himself against your bare cunt. “You really know how to get a man goin’.”

“Prove it.”

His eyes flicker with an emotion you can’t quite describe. His breath stutters, then, without even looking, he unbuckles himself, never breaking eye contact. Joel’s hair ruffles with the wind, yet he doesn’t even blink. The head of his cock catches against your clit, ripping a moan from your throat. He fills you with one sloppy thrust, the length of him stretching you enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

“Joel—Oh my god—”

“That’s it, good girl, takin’ my cock so well. Feels good?”

Slack-jawed, you nod. He goes deeper. “Want you to feel me for weeks, wildflower. And I want you to think of me every time you come to this god—” thrust. “—damn” thrust. “—field.”

You can only moan at his words, his hands grip your lovehandles, squeezing and pulling you closer to him every time he rocks forward. His head falls into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin, he sucks. Your body convulses, shaking against him.

Sparks ricochet through every limb of your body as you feel the heat pooling in your core. Joel moves his hand from your lower back to cup your breast, his fingers teasing and plucking at your nipple. The pleasure ricochets through your body, making you feel like you're on fire.

“Come for me, darlin’.” Joel growls into your ear, his voice rough and primal. “Come on my cock.”

His words send you over the edge, your body shaking and convulsing beneath him as he continues to thrust into you relentlessly. The world blurs around you, all your senses consumed by the feeling of Joel's body against yours.

"Joel—" you moan, your voice lost in the wind as you reach your peak.

He groans in response, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release. After one final, deep thrust, he pulls out and spills over your stomach, his body shaking against yours. You both ride out the waves of pleasure until finally, you collapse against each other, panting and spent.

You lay in the flower field, a tangled mess of limbs and sweaty bodies. Joel's arms are still wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your neck as he tries to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body.

"I've never felt anything like this before," you say quietly, almost to yourself.

Joel lifts his head to look at you, his eyes softening. "Me neither, wildflower. Me neither."

As the sun begins to set, you both lay there, entwined in each other's arms. The field has become a symbol of something more than beauty. And as long as those flowers bloom, you know your love for each other will continue to grow.

A week.

A week without hearing from him, seeing him, touching him.

A painful week.

It’s almost as if he never existed. As if the moment in your favorite field was nothing but your imagination. The only reason why you know it's real is because Ellie still comes by every day, and despite knowing it’s impossible, you still feel him deep inside. It only heightens whenever you have to travel back to the field to gather flowers for the shop.

You watch as Ellie places more daisies into a vase. She’s been her usual self, joking around, telling you about all the details of her life. It’s hard not to ask her about Joel and how he’s been.

Some nasty part of your mind whispers words of discouragement, telling you he only wanted you for your body, for your charm, and got what he wanted. Your heart clenches. It might be true. You were young after all, emotional, broken. He’d already gone through all that, killed to stay alive, for loved ones, gone through grief—why would he want to take on another’s problems as well?

“Hey, Ellie?”

She turns to you, eyes slightly wide due to the rasp of your voice, “Yeah boss?”

“Can you watch the shop for a second, I have something I need to do that I forgot about.”

You don't wait for her nod as you exit the shop. You know he’s home. He has to be.

Luckily it doesn’t take you long to reach their house, your knock is loud and swift. You know you’ve taken him by surprise by the expression when he opens the door. His mouth is slightly ajar, his brows knit together.

“What are you—”

“I came to talk,” you brush past him, heading inside. Joel lingers at the door but soon after follows you inside anyway.

He sighs, “What do you want to talk about?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come. "Us," you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you. "I need to know what happened, Joel. Why you've been avoiding me."

Joel's jaw clenches at your words, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. "I ain't good for you," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "You deserve better than someone like me."

You feel a surge of anger rising within you at his words, frustration bubbling up to the surface. "That's for me to decide, Joel," you say, your voice tinged with defiance. "I'm not some fragile flower that needs to be protected. I can make my own choices, and right now, I choose you."

Joel's expression softens slightly at your words, but there's still a hint of sadness in his eyes. "You don't know what you're saying," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a mess, a broken man with too much blood on his hands. You deserve someone who can give you the world, not someone who can barely keep himself together. You’re young. You still have so much ahead of you—"

“No! That’s not what I want. I want you, you’re the only person who’s made me feel like. . . like myself. . .before. And wanted.”

Your voice begins to shake, you see the hesitation within his body, hod his hand slightly moves forward to hold you, to touch you, but he doesn’t.

“I can’t do this to you,” his hands slide into his pockets, he gestures to the door. “Get out.”

The blood freezes in your veins, your eyes grow wide, your chest constricts, “What?”

“I said to get out,” he repeats, a little louder this time. “Get out, please.”

And you do.

“You need to get your shit together.”

“Language, Ellie, dammit.”

She glares at him from across the table. It’s an early morning, earlier than he’d liked. He’s been feeling hallowed out ever since your visit. He could see the hurt in your eyes, the betrayal. He knew that he’d broken something when avoiding you, something tender and not so easily fixable.

But what was he supposed to do? You were young, he didn’t want to trap you, didn’t want you to throw the best years of your life for an old man like him.

Briefly, he squeezes his eyes shut. His head hurts. All he can think about is you, your body, how eager it was to take him, the delectable curves he couldn’t get enough of.

He misses your taste on his tongue.

“She’s miserable too, you know.”

Joel’s eye snap wide open. “Who?”

“You know who,” she shakes her head. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but she’s definitely upset and so are you—Just fix it. Don’t be an asshole”

He let’s out a sigh, she’s right. He needs to fix this somehow. Joel stares at Ellie, her words hitting him harder than he expected. He hadn't realized just how much his actions had affected not only you but also Ellie. The weight of his own guilt settles heavily on his shoulders, a constant reminder of the mess he's made.

"Yeah," he mutters, his voice rough with emotion. "I know."

He runs a hand through his hair, the tension in his muscles making every movement feel heavy and strained. He knows he needs to make things right, to somehow find a way to mend the rift he's created between you and him.

But how? How could he possibly make things right after everything that's happened?

"I'll talk to her," he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll fix it."

Ellie nods in approval, her expression softening slightly as she looks at him. "Good," she says, her tone gentle. "Because I don't want to see either of you hurting anymore."

She was right and he knew it.

“The shop’s closed today,” Ellie says as he grabbed his jacket. “I don’t know where she is.”

But he did. He knew exactly where you would be. The place he tasted you, the place he felt your body against him.

Joel's heart sinks as he approaches the flower field and sees you sitting there, your shoulders hunched over as you hug your knees to your chest. He can hear your sobs from a distance, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air.

For a moment, he hesitates, unsure of what to do or say. But then, with a heavy sigh, he pushes aside his doubts and makes his way towards you.

As he draws closer, he can see your whole body trembling with the force of your emotions. His heart aches at the sight, knowing that he's the cause of your pain. He kneels infront of you, gently touching your wrists.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's me, Joel."

You startle at the sound of his voice, lifting your head to look at him with tear-streaked eyes. For a moment, there's a flicker of surprise in your gaze, followed by a wave of raw emotion.

"Joel?" you choke out, your voice thick with tears. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you," he says, his voice filled with regret. "I couldn't stand the thought of you hurtin’ like this."

"I thought... I thought you didn't care," You sniffle, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand.

Joel reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and tender. "I care more than you know," he says. "I made a mistake, a big one, and I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just didn’t want you to. . .I didn’t think I deserved someone like you."

"I missed you," you admit softly, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

Joel's heart clenches at your words, a rush of emotion flooding through him. Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you bury your face against his chest.

"I missed you too, wildflower," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "And I promise, I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy."

He hears the smile in your voice.

“You already do.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #plus size!reader #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

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dfortrafalgar · 8 days

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Distraction

Portgas D. Ace x Fem!Reader

You and Ace intended to spend the day at the beach, but he can’t seem to be able to relax.

Warnings: modern au, so much smut. like so much smut. wet, sticky smut. 69-ing briefly. reader is also written to be on the chubbier side (im projecting <3) ace fucks you in the back of his car, basically. MINORS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

I woke up thinking about Ace today so I cranked this out in, like, an hour. It was a nice change of pace while I've been finishing up IMLY and the Luffy fic from my poll, which is almost done! (speaking of which, thank you for 200 followers <3)

Ace hadn’t seen your swimsuit yet. All he knew about it was that you purchased it recently on a shopping trip with a group of your friends, but it was currently concealed under a light t-shirt and denim shorts. Throughout the drive to the shoreline, he was anxiously eyeing your bare thighs, his grip on the steering wheel of his station wagon turning his knuckles white.

“What’s got you so nervous over there?” Your airly voice shook the freckled man out of his daze. “Eyes on the road, hotshot.”

“It’s nothing,” he blurted, pouting and turning his attention back to the road. Maybe he should have you sit in the backseat when your skin was exposed.

His own friends often joked that he was no better than a dog. It wasn’t his fault that his sex drive was higher than cruising altitude… or maybe it was. But he couldn’t help his wandering eyes when the soft skin of your plush thighs was exposed, or the way your deft hands fiddled with your cuticles as you stared out the window, sparkling eyes taking in the cloudless summer day as the backroads passed by on the drive to the beach. Most of your evenings together were spent with either his head between your legs, your head between his legs, or your face smushed into a soft pillow while Ace desperately railed you from behind.

It was a good life, that’s for sure.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been to the beach,” you suddenly stated, turning your head to look at your flustered boyfriend. “I’ve only ever been swimming in pools recently!”

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, his voice shaky.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Ace, are you really alright? Your face is kind of red.” You reached your hand over to press your palm to his forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever, do you?”

“Nah, I feel fine. Honestly. Just… thinking.” One of his hands left the steering wheel to rub his sweating palm against the fabric of his swim trunks. All he had on, other than the baggy trunks, was a white tank top that had a very unfortunate oil stain around the chest area. He was sure his entire upper body was flushing red with the debauched thoughts that plagued his weary brain. He hadn’t even seen your bathing suit yet and his mind was running in circles. (He started to debate calling up that therapist that Sabo recommended.)

“Well, tell me if you really don’t feel good. I don’t want you to force yourself to be out today just because of me,” you cooed, your voice soft and comforting.

He needed to tell you to stop talking. Even the sound of your voice made butterflies swarm in his gut.

He might as well have been ovulating.

After what felt like an eternity, the trees surrounding the backroad route he had taken began to dissipate, replaced with the beautiful sight of the shoreline. The ocean spanned outward as far as you could see, disappearing along the horizon and blending in with the bright blue sky. A few small beach houses dotted the shore.

“You said this was a public beach, right?” you asked curiously.

Ace nodded, swallowing a thick glob of spit. “Public, but very minimal. There’s some private properties surrounding it so a lot of people assume the entire place is off-limits to locals, but there’s a small parking lot set back from the beach near a tiny bathroom shack-lookin’ thing.”

You grinned. “Nice.”

“Do you not like public beaches?” he inquired, tossing you a side eye as he pulled further down the road, approaching the aforementioned parking lot.

“I don’t mind them,” you replied. “But sometimes really busy beaches make me nervous. Sometimes I don’t feel comfortable swimming when there’s too many people around… I get self-conscious in my bathing suits!” Your statement was punctuated with a fluttering, nervous laugh as you involuntarily squeezed the skin of your thighs.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that when I’m here,” Ace replied, flashing you a cheeky grin.

The parking lot seemed sparse. It was entirely gravel with a few decrepit wooden fences separating where cars could park, some overgrown weeds poking through the impacted dirt here and there. Sure enough, there was a brown, run-down bathroom shack between the beach and the parking lot. During high tide, it almost seemed like the entire area would get flooded, but the gravel was drier than bone thanks to the beating sunlight.

You dug through your bag, removing a tube of sunblock.

“I thought you already put on sunscreen before we left,” Ace said, pulling into a spot and putting his beat-up station wagon in park.

“I did, I’m just putting some extra on my face,” you responded, uncapping the tube and squeezing some of the white gel onto your fingers. You deftly rubbed the lotion onto your skin, across your cheeks and brow, down your nose, and down your neck.

Ace needed to look away from you as your hands trailed down your neck and across your collarbones, ridding your hands of the excess lotion. You weren’t provoking him on purpose, he knew that, but clearly his dick was taking charge of the day.

Little prick.

The two of you excitedly exited the car, grabbing your small umbrella and towels to find a nice spot to set up camp on the sand. You were quick to lay down your towel when you found a spot, Ace digging a deep hole into the ground to mount the umbrella and provide a shelter from the beating sunlight. Only a few other people were dotted around the beach, mostly older folk who were most certainly retired and enjoying their elderly days basking in the sunlight. The thought made you smile. You watched with glittering eyes as Ace pulled his tank top over his lean body, his muscular chest rippling with his movements, letting the cloth fall into his bag in a wrinkled heap.

“Oh, shit, forgot the cooler,” Ace mumbled suddenly. “I’ll be right back.” He swiftly turned tail and hiked through the sand back to his car.

You smiled, crawling under the umbrella and feeling the sand beneath the fabric shift below your knees. You slid your denim shorts down your legs, shifting your weight to pull them off before folding them neatly and tucking them into your beach bag. Your shirt followed, your hands hooking under the bottom hem and pulling it up over your head, repeating the process of folding it and storing it away. Weirdly enough, you felt more comfortable on this beach than any other. While some old folk liked to gab, the sparse population on this beach seemed more than willing to keep to themselves. And there was no risk of creepy men your age or obnoxious teenagers to toss rogue comments about your body or shitty pick-up lines.

And you had Ace, of course, who would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked. The thought made your stomach flutter with glee.

Back in the parking lot, Ace was quick to haul open his trunk and grab the small cooler they had packed with water, some sodas, and some light snacks, slinging it over his bare shoulder and slamming the door closed. The hinges made a terrible squealing noise as the door moved. He really needed to get that fixed. He quickly jogged back to the shoreline with the cooler bag in his possession, his sandals making scuff marks in the gravel.

He almost died and came back to life when he saw you from behind.

Your clothes were off, your body hugged in a bikini that looked sculpted for you and only you. The strawberry-print bodice was tied around your neck and below your shoulder blades with thin straps, the front of the suit being held together in the front with a metal ring between the bust. Your plump breasts peeked over the seams slightly, making blood rush to Ace’s face. The solid-colored bottoms squeezed your hips and ass perfectly, with one side open and held together with strings in an intricate criss-cross pattern.

Ace’s feet were moving on their own, his soul ascending from his body as he floated toward you.

You heard the rustle of his swim trunks from behind you as you approached, turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Hey! All set with the cooler?”

He plopped to his knees on his own towel, the cooler hitting the ground with a thud. “Yeah, all set…” His voice trailed off as if he wanted to say something else.

You gazed at him with confusion painting your features.

“You… you look…” Ace could barely look at you. “You look so fucking hot… oh my god.”

Suddenly, his demeanor in the car made much more sense. The constant red flush painting his adorable freckled cheeks, his mouth in a perpetual tongue-tie, his lips pursing together tightly as he struggled to keep his composure. Your lips pulled into a bright smile, relishing in the flustered behavior of your boyfriend.

“Aww, thank you, baby!” you cooed, moving closer to him. Your hands trailed down his arm, ghosting over the tattoo on his bicep before teasingly falling to the cooler and unzipping the top, pulling an orange soda out of the bag.

“Please don’t tease me, I think I might explode,” Ace huffed.

You popped open the can with a satisfying click, taking a quick sip from the opening. “You know… I don’t think anyone’s going to mess with our stuff if you want to go back to the car…”

Ace’s dark eyes darted toward you, assessing the mischievous expression on your face as you kept the cold soda can pressed against your mouth. The metal was rapidly developing condensation thanks to the heat in the air, droplets of water dripping down the orange can and onto your fingers, plopping against your folded knees.

He carefully removed the soda from your hands, tucking it back into the cooler to make sure it didn’t spill, before standing up and hauling you to your feet, dragging you by your hand across the hot sand and back to the parking lot for a third time. He ripped his car keys from the pocket of his swim trunks, shoving the metal key into the door lock to open the vehicle before leading you to the trunk and popping open the door. You quickly clamored inside, him following behind you and closing the trunk from the inside. He chucked his keys somewhere towards the front of the car.

He wasted absolutely no time in smashing his lips against yours, making you wince slightly at the feeling of his teeth hitting your own, but the way his long fingers expertly groped the skin of your breasts below your bikini top made you forget about the momentary discomfort.

After a few stifling moments, Ace pulled away and heaved into the skin of your neck, holding you down by your shoulders.

The best part about him owning an old, refurbished station wagon was the ample amount of room in the back, as well as the lack of center console between the two front seats. It was a car built for fucking.

“Is this what you were thinking of on the ride over here?” you asked, a coy tone on your tongue. “About what my new swimsuit would look like?”

Ace grumbled, a childish pout on his lips as one of his hot hands continued to rub patterns up and down your side. Up to your breasts, his thumb ghosting over your concealed nipple, trailing down your waist and groping the plush flesh of your belly, down your thigh to squeeze your ass. The way the strings on the exposed side of your bottom piece fit into your skin made his cock throb.

“You’re insatiable,” you giggled, your own hands leaving scorching patterns over his shoulders and arms. “Are you ovulating? You’re acting like me before my period.”

“Shush,” he grumbled, followed by another sweltering kiss, all tongue. You felt a dribble of spit leave the corner of your mouth, sticking to the skin of your cheek. His lips moved against yours, exchanging a blistering heat. Ace always seemed to radiate warmth even on the coldest days, and his presence in this moment filled your body with a heated, lustful buzz. Goosebumps rose on your skin when he pulled away from you leaving your front exposed, gently biting your puffy lower lip with his teeth.

“How worried are you about someone messing with our things on the beach?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You adjusted yourself slightly below him, his knees beside your hips caging you onto the floor of his trunk. “Hmm… not too worried.”

“Perfect,” Ace replied swiftly, tugging his swim trunks down.

He had such a nice cock, perfectly shaped with a cut tip that flushed a beautiful rosy hue. A slight upward curve, lean and not too long, perfect. He was either hard for the entire time you were setting up your small spot on the sand and you hadn’t noticed, or he was fighting with every fiber in his body to keep the erection at bay. Whatever the circumstance, the fantasy of spontaneously fucking you in the trunk of his car in that sexy bikini of yours that he daydreamed about on the drive down was finally coming true.

Your hands made a move down to your hips to pull on the fabric of your bottoms before his fingers wrapped around your wrists, halting your movement.

“Sorry,” he uttered, his voice a soft whisper filled with a desperation you rarely saw from him. “Your suit stays on.”

Your mouth morphed into a grin as he released you, leaning back up on his knees and idly stroking his cock with his right hand. You parted your legs for him, making a show of smushing your breasts together under your tight top. God, your suit could have been molded onto your body, it looked so good.

“Are you going to stay there and jerk off over me, or are you going to share some of the fun?” you asked deviously, one of your hands crawling below your bottoms and teasing your clit with the slick that had built up. A pleasant, tingling flutter resonated in your belly and floated down your thighs, but nothing was better than the feeling of his fingers and cock doing the work for you.

“I want to do everything to you,” he muttered, releasing his dick from his slow ministrations. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

You watched as it bobbed in the air, so hard it held itself out away from Ace’s toned stomach. You involuntarily licked your lips at the sight. “You’re so pretty…” you muttered. You took it upon yourself to sit up, gently pushing against Ace’s shoulders to get him to sit on the trunk floor on his ass, leaning against him further to get the hint to lay down in the position you had just been in.

Neither of you had a strictly dominating or strictly submissive attitude. Rather, you mutually shared the moment, taking charge when you wanted and snatching the lead away whenever you pleased. This was one of those moments as you rotated your body on top of his, moving your ass closer to his face as one of your hands ghosted along his hip bone, your other arm supporting you and keeping you upright.

Ace got the hint almost immediately, his greedy hands groping and squeezing your ass as he pulled you downward to rest your clothed cunt against his mouth. The hotness of his breath and the feeling of his lips against your weeping pussy concealed by the polyester made your breath hitch as your lips traveled closer and closer to the tip of his dick, watching hungrily as it seemed to pulse in the air, desperate for attention.

Your boyfriend made the first move, pulling you down by your hips and resting your cunt over his mouth, his tongue forcing its way between your folds through the suit and quickly finding your clit. You gasped, your arm shaking somewhat as you quickly followed his lead, wasting no time in taking his cock into your hot, ready mouth.

And goodness, did he taste good. A familiar slightly salty musk partnered with the residual scent of his daily body spray, a vanilla and cedar flavor that always made your heart flutter in your chest. His cock might as well have been burning as you hollowed out your lips and took him further down your mouth, loving the way the organ pulsed against your tongue.

On the other end, Ace’s fingers had found their way into the fabric of your bathing suit, holding the barrier aside as two of his digits spread your natural slick over your cunt and lubricated his skin before he pressed them into your pussy, addicted to the way your muscles constricted around him. Your entrance was always on the tighter side no matter how many times you fucked, and it was absolute heaven for him. He turned the pads of his two fingers forward, pushing gently against the roof of your vagina where he knew you were acutely sensitive, and smirked to himself when your thighs clenched around his head. Your movements over his cock momentarily stuttered at the feeling of his thumb connecting with your clit to simultaneously stroke the needy bud while passionately fingering your pussy.

He knew you too well. He knew what you needed. Ace wasn’t a selfish lover, he had learned your quirks and needs very early on in your relationship. You loved your clit rubbed in somewhat slow circles, alternating between various pressures. You responded to his fingers against your g-spot, and you loved when his dick curled upward into the same area. Not too deep so as to hit your cervix, which hurt you quite a bit, but deep enough to reach those sensitive areas that had your legs shaking.

You learned quickly too, however. Ace’s tip was the most sensitive part of him, his breaths growing shallow when you delicately sucked your lips around it and trailed your tongue along the slit, collecting the small amount of salty precum that emerged from the tip. He loved it when you gently fondled his balls, rubbing the wrinkled skin between the pads of your fingers. He adored the inside of his thighs being caressed, and you tried your best to do both with one hand as the other trembling appendage fought to support your weight as you continued to blow him.

You popped off of his cock momentarily, stroking the base with your hand. “Did you have fruit recently?” you asked, turning your head somewhat to look over your shoulder. Not like you could see much.

Ace paused his motions against your pussy. “... Maybe.”

You grinned, the usually salty, bitter taste of his essence now replaced with something slightly sweeter. You wanted to egg him on, to ask him if he had planned for this to happen and eaten some pineapple or citrus with his breakfast in preparation, but you decided to keep your inquiries to yourself and return to your task of sucking him off.

Ace was content to keep fingering you, his current position in between your thighs a bit too difficult to involve his tongue, but he knew he could please you regardless. The circular movements of his calloused thumb against your throbbing clit had you sucking in sharp, lustful breaths through your nose, small whimpers leaving your throat and vibrating down his shaft making him bite his lip and stifle a wheeze. Your thighs were quivering as he continued to curl his fingers into your g-spot, following the rhythm of your lips around his cock.

After some moments, however, you quickly scrambled off of him, your hand clutching around your stomach as you pivoted above him, capturing his lips in yours. You ground your clothed cunt over his pulsing cock, keeping it locked between your pussy and his toned abdomen.

“Now who’s the desperate one?” he asked, teasingly, his signature boyish smirk traveling right back to your clit.

“I can’t help it, you’re contagious,” you huffed against the skin of his cheek.

Usually, the two of you used lube. It didn’t matter how wet you got thanks to foreplay, the sensations were always heightened when there was no risk of chafing. But clearly, you didn’t have that luxury today. Nor did you have any condoms. Instead, you bit down your thoughts, reserved yourself to spending 70 beri on the morning-after pill later that day, and hovered over his cock. You pulled your swimsuit to the side and took his dick in your hands, wasting no time in slipping it through your folds that were thoroughly drenched thanks to Ace’s expert fingers.

The first insertion always hurt somewhat. A slight, red-hot throbbing pain that radiated through your pelvis, followed by a pleasant pressure as his cock slowly intruded into your tight muscle. The groan that radiated from Ace’s throat made your pussy flutter.

That was another thing you loved about him. He was loud.

Maybe on a normal day you’d be worried about someone hearing you, or seeing the way his car shook with the force of your collective moments, but both of you had succumbed to desperation and couldn’t care less. Traumatize the elderly beach goers who might happen to walk through the gravel parking lot to their own cars.

You sunk fully down onto Ace’s hips, his dick perfectly nestled inside your wet and willing pussy as his hands tightly gripped your hips through your suit bottoms. You slowly rocked your hips, desperate for some extra friction against your clit. It was much harder with the fabric covering you, but eventually you found a movement that felt just right. Edging your hips slightly forward, you rolled your pelvis against his, dragging your clothed slit over the taught skin of his lower abdomen, moaning at the feeling of his dick pulsing within you.

Maybe you really didn’t have to worry about lube today. Every motion against the walls of your vagina had you biting your lip and arching your back over him.

Ace’s hands assisted with bouncing you on his cock, his voice slowly increasing in volume as he watched you through half-lidded as your breasts jiggled with each movement, how the fat of your belly and thighs rippled so deliciously as you gyrated above him. His voice was delectable, gruff and whiny, higher-pitched than usual with stuttering breaths and hitches in his throat that had your heart beating a mile a minute.

Your legs were growing tired, and Ace could tell. He wordlessly beckoned you off of him, being quick to lean you over the back seats and move your suit to the side again, slipping his cock back in between your folds. This angle always fit the both of you. As much as Ace loved it when you rode him, taking you from behind came with many more benefits. His free hand could travel down to dip beneath the cloth of your swimsuit and rub those delicious circles against your clit while simultaneously thrusting his desperate hips against your ass. His chest pressed into your shoulder blades, his free hand supporting him against the back of the seats as you held onto the leather for dear life, whining with each motion of his cock against your inner walls and his calloused fingers against your clit.

It didn’t take long for you to unravel, the feeling of his rough finger pads against your desperate nub too much to bear. Your orgasm approached slowly at first, filling your stomach with warmth, the insides of your eyelids flashing purple and indigo, before your body snapped and you were shuddering against Ace, moaning out loud as your pussy involuntarily clenched around his cock, your cunt feeling feather light as it fluttered. The force of your orgasm caused you to gyrate your hips back against his, weak, airy moans escaping your tongue as the red-hot pleasure radiated through your entire body leaving your pussy buzzing with the aftershocks.

Ace was barely holding it together. The force of your orgasm causing your pussy to clench around his cock had his arms weakening against the seat, his hips frantically rutting into you as sultry moans left his lips at the feeling of his cock burning inside you, begging for satisfaction. His fingers never stopped rubbing your clit, caught up in what had essentially become second nature for him. The overstimulation had you twitching around him, shallow breaths heaving from your lungs. Ace’s pace increased as did the stuttering of his hips, his thrusts growing more shallow as his own orgasm approached.

“A-Ace… fuck, baby…” you whined, dropping your forehead against the back of the seat. “You’re gonna make me cum again…”

The man was too caught up in the throes of pleasure. Calling him desperate earlier was clearly an understatement. A loud, throaty groan reverberated from his lips as his hips rapidly drilled into you, forcing you against the back of the seat. His shallow breaths only helped to fuel your second orgasm that rocked you with a sudden wash of white light behind your eyes and you were shuddering against him again, your own moans filling the stifling air of the car.

Ace barely had time to call out your name before he was thrusting disjointedly into you, crackled, weary moans leaving his lips as he came into your sore cunt, his hands pressing down onto your lower back to keep you still as he buried his cock into you, soaking you more than you already were. You felt him pull out of you, your cunt fluttering around nothing as the sound of him falling backwards against the closed door of his trunk filled your ears.

Your own spent body dropped to the side, sitting on your hip and barely holding yourself up with one hand. You slowly picked your head up, gazing at your boyfriend and assessing his condition.

Black hair mussed beyond belief, his freckled cheeks and shoulders flushed with a delicate red hue, his lips wet and swollen parted with the force of his labored breathing. His eyes were closed, jaw slack as his pelvis continued to twitch from the force of his orgasm. A few last drops of cum were bubbling from his tip, slowly dripping down his drenched dick that almost glistened, covered in your own fluids. You felt wet between your legs. It would have been a nice feeling if you weren’t already so stifling, your entire body feeling sticky. You finally noticed the way the windows had fogged up. You didn’t have time to think about carbon dioxide toxicity before Ace’s weary hand traveled up to the back window of his trunk door, blindly popping the window open a crack to let some fresh air flow into the car. The summer heat felt oddly cool against your sweaty skin.

You slowly crawled closer to Ace, ignoring the way your drenched cunt sat uncomfortably inside your bathing suit. You combed a damp strand of black hair off of his forehead before delicately pressing your lips against his cheek, encouraging him to finally open his eyes.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice low and quiet.

He finally smiled, his narrow, dark eyes filling your chest with warmth. “I think my heart almost stopped.”

You giggled, running your sweaty hand up and down his skin. “Should I wear bathing suits around you more often? I don’t think you’ve ever fucked me like that.”

Your boyfriend’s humble laughter made you grin. “For the sake of my health, you probably shouldn’t.” He finally leaned forward to press a tender kiss against your wet lips. “Though, if I were to die fucking you in a bikini, I’d die a very, very happy man.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace smut #ace x reader smut #portgas d ace x reader smut #smut #op smut #one piece smut #ace oneshot

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hxlda-hxlda · 3 months

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thank u thank u @fiddleleafedfig for the tag !!

nine people you want to get to know better

last song: when i opened the tag, 'alien blues' by vundabar but currently i'm listening to hozier 'would that i'. as of finishing writing this, radiohead. there you have it.

favourite colour: a deep cherry red. the kind that would make a really lovely lipstick gloss.

last movie/tv show: i'm terrible with shows and movies, but i was watching the bowie doco (moonage daydream) the other day, keeping on brand ik. i also love british comedians so 'would i lie to you?' is probably up there as well.

sweet/savoury/spicy: sweet if it is really well done. i'm talking specifically that one pub down by where i live that for some reason makes the best chocolate lava cake ever. if not, savoury forever.

last thing i googled: beatles guitar songs for beginners. i've decided to relearn guitar and i'm back to the absolute basics.

current obsession: concerts! this is a long-standing love but it is very evident lately. the way concerts down here work is that no one comes for years bc of the trek to aus, and then randomly there's this one month period where everybody is here at once and suddenly i have to choose between favs. that has been this month! hard on the bank account but my soul is thriving with a concert every other week. saw noah kahan, it was life-altering.

last book: i'm between the '50 yrs of led zeppelin' biography by mick wall, and 'anna karenina' by tolstoy atm. (adding it) last fic: blends by rvltn909. finished it yesterday and oh my god. the crime that was me putting it off.

looking forward to: still a little ways away, but i'm moving to america for (my) winter-spring!! i've work in the states, which i'm thrilled abt. it also means i am tracking down artists who refuse to concert in aus (hozier for the love of god) and trying to sneak them in as well.

np tags (apologies if you've already been tagged): @fairylittlebitch @alltoounwellll @the-moon-says-hi @just--vi @whyistarchaser @bellaxisworld @feminist-cult-following @none-of-it-was-accidental @svnflowermoon + ofc anybody else who wants to. tag me. let me know you all.

#tag game #prev: making friends with the queer people in my phone #yes exactly this #sending everyone all of the love

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cranberrymoons · 5 months

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i'll be home for christmas

prompt: no upside down au (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: t word count: 909 words tags: flirting, bartender eddie, college student steve

welcome to Day 9 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

Nancy dumps him a few months after he moves away for school, and so he doesn’t come home that summer or the one after that, until a couple years have gone by and he ends up stuck back at his parents’ house during Christmas break.

He hasn’t seen them in a while, but truth be told, he’d kind of rather just be back in South Bend hiding out in his dorm or maybe at the bar with Robin, the only other person from Hawkins who’d ended up at Notre Dame. He hadn’t even known her before they were there, and she’s a year below him, but – whatever. When you leave a small town, you sort of tend to find each other after a while.

She’s not there right now, though, so it’s not like it really even makes a difference. She’s off on some trip with her own parents, one that they take every other year, back to visit her mom’s old hippie friends in Berkeley, because Robin has the sort of parents who have old hippie friends back in Berkeley. Maybe Steve could just get adopted by them, and then he'd never have to come back here at all.

Anyway.

He’s here now. That’s the problem.

And of course he got into a fight with his dad on the first night back. Of course he did. I wasn't even over anything worthwhile, just – Whatever. It doesn’t even matter. He doesn’t even care, just. He really does hate his dad sometimes.

He clenches his jaw in rhythm to the song that’s playing from the tape deck in his room, turns his head on the pillow to squint at the glowing red alarm clock in the corner.

8:50 PM

It’s barely even nighttime. He can’t just sit here like this, like he’s waiting for his parents to leave, because they’re not going to fucking leave, so maybe – maybe he should –

He catapults himself off the bed and reaches for his keys on the dresser, shoving them in his back pocket before he can overthink it. Down the stairs, slipping into his shoes by the door, shrugging into his coat. Calling over his shoulder that he’s going out, don’t wait up, and –

He doesn’t actually know where he’s going, but he gets in his car and starts driving. Just drives until he ends up parked in front of the Hideout, the run-down little dive bar on the complete opposite side of town.

It’s open, and there are a few people hanging around out front, so he turns off the car and goes inside.

It’s dark in here, the ceiling low and the music kind of weird and more guitar-y than he’s used to, but it’s medium-crowded in a way that makes him feel like he can probably just grab a seat at the bar and blend in and not have to worry about anyone trying to talk to him about –

“Harrington?”

Fuck.

He turns with a big fake smile on his face, prepared to deal with Tommy, who he hasn’t seen in at least a year, or maybe even Billy, who he hasn’t seen in about as long. Worst of all would be the Byers kid, the one he got dumped for, but Jonathan’s probably not bold enough to actually say anything to his face, but still. The last person he expects to find is –

“Munson?”

Eddie gives a little jerk of his head and drops a dish towel over his shoulder. He braces his hands on the opposite side of the bar, arms spread wide, and Steve’s eyes flicker down, just for a beat, to the way the thin cords of muscle flex under his skin where it’s lined with a twisting pattern of black tattoos.

Eddie clears his throat, and Steve sucks in a breath, blinking back up to his face. Eddie raises his eyebrows.

“What’ll it be?”

“Um. Just a – beer, whatever,” Steve says as he tugs his coat off and slides onto a stool. “You work here?”

“No, I’m just a really creative burglar,” Eddie says. He reaches for a glass and pulls the tap as he eyes Steve up and down. “Playing the long game. If I stand back here long enough, they’ll stop noticing me, and that’s when I strike.”

He sets down the drink and slides it across the bar, and Steve grins as he accepts it, letting out a surprised laugh.

“Well now you’ve given it away,” he says, raising his eyebrows as he takes a sip. “Your plan is ruined.”

“You’re going to turn me in?” Eddie asks. He folds his arms over his chest and leans back against the countertop behind him, and Steve’s eyes drop down again like he can’t help it. “What if I cut you in? Ten percent?”

Steve feels a pleased little flush wash over him as he looks back up to Eddie’s face, shoulders relaxing as he takes another sip of his beer. Eddie’s smile is slow and a little sweet, and it makes something in Steve’s stomach do a weird little flip. He tears the corner off a bar napkin to distract his hands from fidgeting too much, and leans forward across the bar. He narrows his eyes.

“Twenty.”

Eddie’s smile grows. He lifts his chin. “Fifteen, and your next beer’s on me.”

Steve laughs, feeling a warm glow settle in his chest. “Sounds like a deal.”

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic

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cheonstapes · 6 months

Note

We need a soulmate au with Miguel! There are barely any in this fandom with reader x miguel and it’s such a cute trope!

Especially with someone who isn’t a complete sunshine, just a reader who is as equally as cold and uninterested in the idea of “soulmates” as Miguel would be, yet they both finds themselves naturally drawn to one another.

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘YOU AND ME, ALWAYS TOGETHER’ (=ﾟωﾟ)ﾉヽ(^o^)

a/n ~ NO SMUT?? OH EM GEE! this was so cute i loved it sm! and yes, im sorry but i hate the sunshine reader fics😭 GIMMIE EMO READER AND GRUMPY MIGGY!!

summary; your futures were sealed from the moment you both met, you two just had to accept it.

pairing; miguel o’hara x reader

wc; 1.5k

cw; FLUFF! minor angst, soulmate au!, i think reader is mostly gn! pls tell me if not🩷, blood, injuries, mutual pining, kissing, reader has a little panic attack, love love love, spanish not translated, NAWT PROOFREAD - we all caps now

As much as he hated to admit it, Miguel always knew you were different.

Miguel was cautious of those around him, guarding his heart against anyone he deemed was getting a bit too close. And you — you were no exception, well, at the start. You were no ray of sunshine, that’s for sure. The way you carried yourself, so nonchalantly — almost rivalling Miguel in his own game.

He thinks about the day he first met you often, the curt nod you gave when he reluctantly invited you into the society. The moment he locked eyes with you, something changed. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the fight, or maybe it was the way your bored eyes brightened ever so slightly as you looked at him. Whatever it was, he didn’t like the way his heart momentarily skipped a beat.

He knew you felt it too, that small spark in your belly. It was impossible to ignore him, not just because he’s your boss — but because you didn’t want to. Every time you were around him the world seemed to look a little brighter, blending colours of you two’s shared connection to create an opening for you both to find each other — to explore the depths of that tumultuous abyss.

It was too good to be true, anyway. The idea of being connected to someone like that, having a ‘soulmate’, was downright stupid. You both were too busy protecting the multiverse to worry about something as trivial as love — Miguel scoured the timelines, and no matter how hard he tried, a love of his own was not part of it.

Yet you couldn’t seem to leave each other alone. The bond between the both of you constantly drawing you back to him, and him back to you. It was small things at first, asking you to go over some

mission reports, double checking data that he had already triple checked with you — then it was asking if you wanted an empanada from the canteen, bringing you coffee when he noticed your tired state, sitting you on his desk as he patched up your injuries.

It infuriated you to no end. Harbouring these feelings deep inside of you, you knew deep down you may be overreacting— but this had to stop. It would never work. It’s all you could tell yourself as you sat in silence, your mask covering your distressed face as he rambled on about the details of the next mission. “You’re with me, let’s go.”

“Huh?” You were so cute. It was a look that he’s never seen on you before, your eyes widened slightly, mouth open in a small pout. “The mission. You’re coming with me, so get moving.” That was the last thing you really wanted, being in direct contact with Miguel. A small part of you felt…excited? It was a strange feeling, one you didn’t welcome with open arms — pushing it down with a roll of your eyes and a small huff as you followed Miguel through the portal.

The universe you were in was practically a wasteland. It was unlike any you’ve seen before and it didn’t sit right with you at all. The air was filled with a noxious green smog, buildings seemingly crumbling with every swing the two of you took. “This is gonna be quick, capture the anomaly and we go. Do not engage unless it attacks first.” His stern voice cut through the heavy silence, your head flitting over to where he was perched on a rooftop.

“Yeah, ok, no problem.” It took everything for you not to respond with some sarcastic remark, the vibe here was too unsettling for you to take a jab at Miguel. He could sense something was off, not with this world — but with you. It was like he had a sixth sense, always knowing when you were upset, angry, happy, hungry. He didn’t think much of it, but something about today made the sense so much more intense.

He was next to you in an instant, towering over you as he blocked your vision of the world in front of you. “Hey, cariño, look at me.” Miguel’s voice had never been softer, even though there was still that gravelly undertone — it was calming, enough to get you to lift your head. The pure distress on your face made his gut twist in anguish, feeling his own anxiety picking up — he hadn’t felt like that in years. Those rough hands of his held your cheeks, so gently, as his thumb caressed the warm skin.

“You know I don’t like seeing you like this — all worried. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think you were capable of handling yourself, nena.”

“I know…but I-“

“Ah — no buts. What you aren’t gonna do right now is doubt yourself. I’ve known you for 8 years now, and the last thing I think when I see you is ‘quitter’. So get your ass together so we can finish this and go home.” Another curt nod, but this time there was the small hint of a smile on your face — the fire in your eyes reigniting at his words.

“Bueña chica. C’mon the anomaly should be just —“

It was barely touching you. The end of a sharp spike close to penetrating the tender skin of your stomach — but for some reason the pain was unbearable. It felt like blood was pooling in your organs, only there was none. The quietness interrupted as soft patter of crimson droplets hit the jagged concrete of the roof.

Your eyes trailed up, Miguel’s face uncharacteristically contorted into one of something akin to fear — the gaping hole in his stomach revealing itself when the thick shard slides out of it, the anomaly making unintelligible clicks and groans behind him. “No…no, Miguel!” The pain you felt directly mirrored his, your screams of anguish piercing the sensitive ears of the creature — its scaly body slithering off before you could stop it.

“Miguel? Miguel, stay with me ok — we’re going home, I-I’m gonna open the portal now and we’re gonna get you some help.” He could hear how fast your heart was beating, rings of red invading your eyes as tears pooled along with it. Even with the doughnut-sized hole in his torso, he couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were when you’re worried — the pain subsiding momentarily. “Ey, ¡carajo!, cálmate cariño. I…I’ll be ok, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Miguel, respectfully, that’s bullshit — there’s quite literally a whole carved out of you and you wanna sit here and tell me you’ll be ok? We’re going back right now, you’re not fucking dying on me.” Turning, you tapped around on your watch — opening a portal back to the HQ. Miguel’s presence behind you didn’t go unnoticed, despite his fatal, in your eyes, injury — he still found the time to tease you when he should be on the ground fighting for his life.

“How many times am I gonna have to tell you to look at me?” Was his voice always that deep, that sultry. His hands trail up your arm, grasping your wrist gently to stop your movements. The world turns as your spun round, eye-to-chest with Miguel before he lifts your head by your chin. He guides your hand towards his stomach, your hand meeting his firm muscles. “Where — Where did it…?” He chuckles deeply, shaking his head.

“Told you it’s nothing I can’t handle.” He was smiling, genuinely smiling as he looked at you — his eyes softening as he looked down at your expression. You were spluttering, hands waving around as you tried to process what you’re looking at — the hole now completely sealed as if nothing happened. Miguel’s rough hands cupped your cheeks, eyes flickering down to your lips — his own face heating up slightly.

You pause, hands shaking coming to grasp onto his shoulders — your bodies coming to press against each other. It was straight out of a movie, a dysfunctional one at that, but a movie nonetheless — faces meeting in the middle as your lips collide, tongues gently dancing. One of his hands move to grip your hips through the fabric of your suit, blunt nails digging into the fat as he grunts out curses against your spit soaked lips.

A few heated minutes pass and he breaks the kiss, panting down at you. “Let’s go capture that fucker.” You nod, your face lighting up from that bright smile you put on — once dull eyes sparkling up at him. “And after, I’m taking you out to that buffet place you keep talking about.”

Your hearts were beating in sync, everything perfectly aligned as you both finally found each other. You’re future together slotting into the timeline, the shared acknowledgement of your connection coming to fruition.

Whether you believed it or not, you two were soulmates, and nothing would change that.

-if you put a buck in my cup

#cheonstapes #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #cheonstapes films!🪷#miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #atsv miguel #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel ohara x reader

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stayinlimbo · 1 month

Text

Limbo's Fic Recs

this list is a collection of my all time faves. please message me if you want your fic taken down or if a link does not work.

disclaimers: (1) some works are nsfw so minors dni. (2) i will be providing limbo thoughts after the recommendations but they are by no means meant to characterize anyone else's experience. (3) i am not modifying the warnings/descriptions the authors put themselves.

last updated ⇢ 19.4.24 | * ⇢ limbo thoughts | newest fics in blue

bang chan

Pieces of you | fluff, angst, singledad!chris, mutual pining, neigbors!au. (wc: 8.7k) @astraystayyh

* ⇢ omfg sahar is one of the best writers i've ever come across in my entire life. i beg of anyone who comes across this rec list to please check out her masterlist.*

No Contact | angst with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort. (wc: 7.6k) @dreaming-medium

* ⇢ i'm crying. you made me cry. this fic was so heart-wrenchingly beautiful . all the emotions and what-ifs and longing and love and just everything blended so seamlessly together.*

the innocence is gone | smut, virgin!chan, experienced!reader. (wc: 15k) @/straykeedz

* ⇢ jail. right now. this fic had no right to be so good. we love to see healthy communication and preparation and just overall an amazing relationship*

series

queenmaker | ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love. (ongoing) @kangaracha

* ⇢ i had never read a 9th member au before but wowowowowow i love this one so so much*

lee minho

youngblood | college!au, best friends to lovers!au, angst, fluff. (wc: 17.4k) @changbeanie

* ⇢ this may have been the first lee know fic i read (or at least one of the longer ones). this fic is just amazing. slow burns are my weakness.*

your heart & your headache, too. | stray god au, fluff, humor, angst, action. (wc: 9.6k) @missinghan

* ⇢ another one of my introductions to stayblr and wow. this fic is still one of the best i have ever read. the characters are so funny, relatable (at least mc is for me), and there is a deeper message that just amazes me every time i read it. check out their masterlist.*

Invisible thread - 1, 2 | fluff, angst, academic rivals to lovers, slow burn. (wc: 37k total) @/astraystayyh

* ⇢ sahar, when i catch you sahar. banger right here. i love this so so so much. i'm limiting myself to one fic of hers per member or else i'd be putting everything she's ever written here. oops, what's this? you should check it out: masterlist*

cold as ice | figureskater!minho, fluff, first love, suggestive smut. (wc: 11.7k) @linospuddin

* ⇢ this fic is my roman empire. if you're ever going to choose something from this list, this better be one of the top contenders. oh no, i dropped this masterlist*

piece by piece | college au, mutual pining, fluff, angst. (wc: 6.2k) @godslino

* ⇢ take my nonexistent money please. this work is so cute and funny and sweet and i just love it so much. yet another case of i can't include everything or else all of ina's works would be here. this masterlist over here is looking pretty temping rn*

2:45am | established relationship, fluff, dad!minho. (wc: 2.5k) @/godslino

* ⇢ ignore what i said above, i have to include this one omggggggggggggg i'm dying*

the enemies to lovers project | enemies to lovers, college au, slight angst, fluff. (wc: 18k+) @softukiyos

* ⇢ one of the first fics i ever read for skz. i feel it deserves to be shared, the development is so good*

I'm my mother's daughter | fluff, angst, smut. (wc: 29k) @jisungparker

* ⇢ highly suggest reading the warnings before continuing with this goddamn masterpiece. omg this fic is so good and amazing and just so original*

7 days | fluff, best friends to lovers au, college au. (wc: 3.7k) @yyxgin

* ⇢ so much fluff. it's so cute, i love friends to lovers so much*

a marriage story - pt.1, pt.2 | fake marriage au, angst, fluff, suggestive. (wc: ~10.6k total) @scxrlettwxtches

* ⇢ another case of friend to lovers i've caught. i love how there is a sequel that expands upon their relationship*

thirteen percent | established relationship, fluff. (wc: 1.2k) @withleeknow

* ⇢ this drabble is so cute and funny. i'm breaking the self-imposed rules, i have to add multiple of her works onto this list. check out the masterlist pleaseeeeeeee*

my moon and stars | established relationship, (tooth-rotting) fluff. (wc: 1.1k) @/withleeknow

* ⇢ i need tissues stat!!! this was so cute and they're in love and now i'm so happy. i didn't mention this in the previous entry, but jen is literally one of the main reasons i started writing so please check the rest of her works out*

not so bad | friend-to-lovers, roommates, college au. (wc: 13.7k) @luvknow

* ⇢ i did not realize the amount of college friends-to-lovers i've read, but i love this one. it is very much worth the read and every time i reread, i feel a little happier*

bunny - one, two | strangers to lovers, neighbors!au, smut, fluff, angst. (wc: 12.7k total) @tasteleeknow

* ⇢ *ahem* ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh read it read it read it. another case of i just have to include one fic or else i'd be putting their entire masterlist. oh, oops looks like i just did*

living in the ruins | best friends to lovers, soft!minho, angst, fluff, jealousy, emotional hurt/comfort, smut with feelings, in a tent. (wc: 2k) @/tasteleeknow

* ⇢ i like how i just decided to abandon my nonsensical rule. anyway...sobbing, tears are streaming down my face, banging my fists on the table. they're in love :(((((((*

everything for your golden touch | established relationship, smut. (wc: 2.1k) @tasteracha

* ⇢ look, this fic really speaks for itself. you should just go read it. maybe you'll discover something new about yourself (or maybe confirm something you already knew). let me just leave this masterlist here*

ikigai | angst, smut, fluff, husband!minho. (wc: 12.1k) @straykeedz

* ⇢ this fic tackles a difficult subject very well. i do recommend reading the warnings just in case this is triggering. with that being said, omgomgomgomgomg i loved this work so much. i don't want to give anything away so that is all i will say :)))*

rodeo | cyberpunk, smut, angst, peers to something. (wc: 18,249) @sailorrlino

* ⇢ i love a great action and world-building story. this fic was so amazing and the gradual build of minho's acceptance of how he feels was beautifully done*

What's Mine is Yours | idol au, soulmates, angst, fluff, slow burn, strangers to lovers. (wc: 14.3k+) @mintquokka

* ⇢ oh i loved this fic so much you don't even know. I had never read one like this before so it was so interesting, cute, angsty, original, and just a perfect blend of everything. the ending was so cute it made me want to throw myself onto the floor*

What the cat dragged in | smut, angst, strangers-to-lovers (kinda), 5+1. (wc: 13.5k) @moni-logues

* ⇢ PLEASE i read the fic and it's amazing with great build-up but i also read where the author got inspiration from and "bad sex" was not something i was expecting lmao. that being said, i'm fighting the demons rn and banging my fists on the table because of how much i loved the sexual-tension, frustration, and genuine care between the two*

series

one last dance | smau, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au, major character death, friends to lovers, soul mates, first love, roommates. (wc: 37k+) (sc: 271) @feelbokkie

* ⇢ sobbing, i loved this couple and their friends so much. queen of angst for a reason (don't mess with seungmin's wife)*

hello stranger | smut, angst, fluff, soulmate!au, enemies to lovers, jealousy, pining, unrequited love. (wc: 45k ongoing) @/tasteleeknow

* ⇢ i love this series holy.... the character developments are amazing and i'm so excited for the next chapter*

counterpunch | friends to lovers, boxer!minho, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, eventual smut. (wc: 6.1k ongoing) @/godslino

* ⇢ i'm screechinggggg. this series only has one chapter so far but there is so so so much potential here. minho is characterized in the most human way possible and i love it*

Force Quit // Episode III: Spider | dystopian, cyberpunk, mutually-pining fuck buddies, smut, angst. (wc: 23.5k) @eoieopda

* ⇢ "limbo, why is this in the series category?" that is because it is part of an amazing series that has outstanding and immersive world building. i just wanted to highlight this specific episode because omfg this is one of the best pieces of writing i have ever had the pleasure of reading. you should definitely read the two episodes before this one to get the bigger picture*

wishful thinking | friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au, fluff, angst, smut. (wc: 21.6k ongoing) @/withleeknow

* ⇢ i'm crying, i love this series so much but i am also so, so scared for the angst to come. that being said, you should 100% read this series*

who you are, who i am - pt.1, pt.2, pt.3 | fluff, angst, (semi) slow burn, arranged marriage au, strangers to lovers, 4th wall break. (wc: 52k+ total) @hanibalistic

* ⇢ i found it!!!!! omg finally, after searching far and wide, i have found what i had lost!!!! this series is so so so interesting and original and omg i'm so happy i can reread it again*

blue side of the sky | exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au, fluff, angst, smut. (completed) @hyunfilms

* ⇢ i think this series is amazing. i don't want to say too much because of spoilers but i really do love the way it ended*

sea may rise, sky may fall | pirate au!, minsung x reader, smut, angst. (ongoing with weekly updates) @skzms

* ⇢ read the series' warnings before reading! frothing at the mouth, i always look forwards to friday's because of this series. the world building is insane and the relationship between minho and reader is sososososososososo good and at the time of writing this i'm very excited to see how their relationship will encompass jisung*

seo changbin

how to tame a prince | dragon prince!changbin, fantasy/royal au, enemies-to-lovers. (wc: 11.6k) @/luvknow

* ⇢ grinning from ear to ear because of this fic. i don't read changbin fics as often as i should (i need to read more). the world-building is so cool too*

Burning in the winter wind | romcom vibes, (fake) enemies to lovers, fluff. (wc: 4.4k) @/astraystayyh

* ⇢ spare me please. i beg of you. i keep getting hit with arrows to my heart*

hwang hyunjin

summer strike | strangers to lovers, found family, comfort fic, heavily inspired by the kdrama. (wc: 23k) @soobnny

* ⇢ i feel so warm inside, so why are tears leaking out of my eyes. this fic is so so so so good, please give it a read*

The snow falls, we fall apart | roommates to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, longing. (wc: 13k) @/astraystayyh

* ⇢ don't look at me right now please i haven't even been able to give my full review on this masterpiece yet i'm sorry*

ace | college!au, sports!au, fake enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn. (wc: 15.2k) @forlix

* ⇢ haikyuu inspired, uh don't mind if i do. seriously though, banger after banger after banger. i still haven't had time to give a review on this one either i'm sorryyyyy.*

half-dead romance | fluff, friends to lovers au, romance. (wc: 10.2k) @/hanibalistic

* ⇢ awkljakjrfnkanfjane ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. hmm this fic might've made me feel something but yk it's anyone's guess*

wherever you are | childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, pining, fluff, angst, suggestive. (wc: 12.9k) @hyunverse

* ⇢ oooooooohhhhhh the angst is angsting but it's so cute why am i feeling so muchhhhhhhhhh. i, once again, apologize for the lack of review, for i have not had time. im sorry :((((((*

series

all for nothing | strangers to lovers, grad school au, fluff, angst, smut. (completed) @/hyunfilms

* ⇢ mmm, this series is so nice. i had a really good time reading it. the sweetness felt extra sweet*

han jisung

Volcano | enemies to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst. (wc: 13.2k) @/astraystayyh

* ⇢ sahar you can't escape my praise. this is such a great rendition of han jisung. i loved each of the characters' developments and their natural progression in their relationship. enemies to lovers (in my opinion) is such a hard trope to get right and she nailed it*

parallel lines | best friends au, unrequited love au, angst. (wc: 1.3k) @/withleeknow

* ⇢ this is such, how do i even say it? realistic? it's not like coming of age but it feels like it in just over one-thousand words. fun fact: the first thing i ever posted on my tumblr was a reblog of this work*

We Have Each Other | one bed trope, fluff, university au, acquaintances to friends to lovers. (wc: 5k) @skzonthebrain

* ⇢ excuse me for just one moment: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AWFAEFGWFLAAKUWBJHFBAHWOIAO. okay i'm back :). this fic was great and had me giggle while kicking my feet*

series

young god | serial killer!au. (wc: 87.5k total) @maatryoshkaa

* ⇢ read the warnings for each chapter!!!! this series is amazing but covers dark topics that may be triggering. there is a series trailer (video) but be cautious since there is some disturbing imagery. everything is so well put together and cohesive*

Let's Fall in Love, IRL | smau, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au, pen pals to lovers, friend of a friend to lovers. (wc: 24k+) (sc: 324) @/feelbokkie

* ⇢ first bokkie series i was able to read from when it first released to completion. each upload had me hanging on the edge of my seat. i love this series, the couple is so cute*

sea may rise, sky may fall | pirate au!, minsung x reader, smut, angst. (ongoing with weekly updates) @/skzms

* ⇢ so what i put this series in both members' fic recs. sue me, it's just that good. limbo thoughts are in minho's series list*

lee felix

felix navidad | strangers (to friends) to lovers, Christmas Evel!au, fluff, angst. (wc: 16.4k) @candlewaxandp0lar0ids

* ⇢ i feel so happy every time i read this. it's so perfect and cute. the touch on the heavier topics is also handled very well*

everything has changed (besides myself) | babysitter!au, girldad!lix, toothrotting fluff, angst, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending, non-linear storyline. (wc: 5.4k) @/forlix

* ⇢ my heart whyyyyyyyyyy. permanent tears have built up into my eyes because of this fic*

kim seungmin

eighteen | best friends to lovers, college au, slow burn, angst, fluff. (wc: 19.8k) @/soobnny

* ⇢ one of the first seungmin fics i read, i love it so much. i feel like this is a classic on this side of stayblr*

(Don't) Like You a Latte | Cafe AU with a hint of a college AU, fluff. (wc: 8.3k) @getcooler

* ⇢ i have this tumblr's user memorized because i lost this fic once and could not find it again for months. never again. it's so adorable and the banter is great.*

In my dreams | (Fake) enemies to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn. (wc: ~4.5k) @/astraystayyh

* ⇢ i'm not crying, you are. i love this work so much omg. i'm fighting air from the cuteness*

yang jeongin

blue dream | smut, explicit sexual content, fluff. (wc: 6.1k) @charmercharm3r

* ⇢ this fic...i think about it every once in a while...maybe a little more often than i should*

24 to 25 - one, two | fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, christmas. (wc: 47.7k total) @awooghan

* ⇢ im smiling as i'm writing this because i just reread this two-shot. it's soooooooooo cute omg "stay for christmas" :((((((*

series

Sorry, I Love You | smau, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au, friends to lovers, unrequited love, will they, won’t they dynamic, abusive relationship, alcohol abuse/alcoholism, emotional/psychological abuse. (ongoing) @/feelbokkie

* ⇢ this one, ah, this one is a little too good at what it does. read the warnings just in case they are triggering because i have felt immense rage at a specific character (this is meant to be a complement, bokkie is such an amazing writer)*

ot8

skz + the habits you share | fluff, humor, borderline crack, established relationship(s). (wc: 3.7k) @/forlix

* ⇢ this work is so adorable and made me laugh, i love it so much. forlix really nailed each personality*

stray kids as colours | @sulfurcosmos

* ⇢ this one is not like any of the others since it is not a reader-insert but please just try it. you can tell the author put so much thought into their choices and the colors encapsulate them perfectly*

April Fools Texts With SKZ ! | crack, established relationship(s). @taetr4ck

* ⇢ i read this in the car when i was going back to uni and it was so hard to not laugh out loud. i think the people i was with thought i was going insane*

series

no nut november | smut. (completed) @sluttywonwoo, @gimmeurtmi

* ⇢ I-, well-, yk-, it's just as the title says. this series is so good*

Winter falls | (ongoing 6/8) @/astraystayyh, @/forlix

* ⇢ read the individual warnings for each fic as they are all conceptually very different. i am now realizing that i included like basically all the fics in this series within the individual member rec, but oh well. the more places the merrier*

#limbo's fic recs #fic recs #faves #bang chan x reader #lee minho x reader #seo changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #stray kids x reader

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sammy-is-not-smiley · 1 year

Note

steve x fem!reader fic please!! soulmates to lovers but it's initially one-sided on reader's end. lots of angst please <33

Let It Hurt (Pt 1)

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve has been your best friend for years despite his douchery in early high school. You would tell him anything... well, anything except for the fact that you've been feeling his physical pain since elementary school. The way he finds out is less than ideal.

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: Soulmate au (kinda), language, no use of (y/n), depictions of severe pain, injuries mentioned, crying, passing out/fainting, angst, set in season 3, soulmates to lovers, friends to lovers, hurt/no comfort (yet), I think that's all??

A/N: I really love this request, the only issue was I've never written or read a soulmates fanfiction before 😅 But that didn't stop me cuz I instantly had an idea for it and ran with it. It's gonna be a 2 parter too! I really hope you still enjoy. Thanks so much for reading and requesting. <3

Part 2: Right Here!

Steve Harrington hadn't always been a dick. In fact the mask he wore through a majority of high school was just that: A mask. One that he used to blend in.

From an early age, you two gravitated to one another. It all started one day in elementary school. You had managed to get a soccer ball stuck in a tree while playing kickball. Being scared of heights, you knew you wouldn't be climbing up to get it. That didn't keep you from staring up at it though, trying your hardest to get the ball to fall with your mind. Steve walked up next to you to see what you were looking at. When he caught sight of it, he didn't hesitate to begin climbing the tree, as if that had simply been routine for him. In awe, you watched him scale through the branches, throw your ball down next to you, and climb back down.

You picked up the ball and just stared at him then, surprised at the ease he managed the task with.

He dusted off his pants, looked at you, gestured to the ball, and asked "You wanna be on the same team?"

From then on, you were inseparable. It didn't take long before you discovered something new. Steve took a fall while running bases one day, earning a nasty scrape on his knee in the process. As he sat in the dirt and held it, holding back tears, you were doing the same on the other side of the field, clutching a knee that bore no injury. Yet somehow, you could feel the pain. You could feel his pain.

Through your life after that event, you would get random strong bouts of pain that you knew weren't yours, all in random places. As a kid it was mostly just things like your knees or elbows, like you skinned them, always when Steve skinned them. In the summer you would sometimes feel a sunburn that never turned red, only for Steve to return from a trip with a sunburn. In your mind, all the evidence wasn't evidence enough, at least not to tell anyone. You tried your best not to look in pain in front of anyone when it happened, and you got pretty good at it. Eventually it became the norm for you to hide it, and you didn't plan on changing that. You were worried Steve would react badly to it somehow if you told him, or call you crazy and ditch you. So it stayed your little secret.

You and Steve lived on through the school years, friendship staying relatively the same.

It wasn't until freshman year you sensed a shift in him. Something bitter to the taste that didn't belong, a sprinkle of salt where there used to be sugar. That salt was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins. Somehow they wormed their way in, pushing you out with glares. Steve only hung out with them when he wasn't hanging out with you, which slowly became less and less. He wasn't getting into any trouble, he just became a gigantic jerk to anyone Tommy deemed worthy of being a jerk to. Eventually Steve was seen as the lead in their escapades, 'King Steve' as it were, but you knew the truth. Steve was just the limp head that Tommy turned in one direction or the other. By tenth grade, you barely spoke to him anymore… and you missed him.

In 1983, one of the largest pains happened - 'attacks' is what you began calling them after this because, honestly, that's what it felt like. It felt like Steve had been attacked, beaten to a pulp. For days after this one, your lip, nose, and especially your upper brow ached. You were sure the skin had been broken somehow, however it remained an invisible ghost. After it happened, you tried calling him. However, he never picked up.

In school, you saw him with a scabbed over face… and he looked miserable. But, as much as it hurt, you assumed he didn't need you anymore. After all, he had a smart and pretty Nancy Wheeler now. Surely he had forgotten about you and didn't want your help. You don't know how many nights you cried over that. How many times you thought to try and call him again. Instead, you waited.

It was a long while before you felt pain even close to that again. On a cold Monday night in November of '84, it happened again, but even worse than the year prior. Another attack.

It was the middle of the night, awaking you from a normal slumber. When you first felt it, it was only a couple hits. When it subsided, you took a breath, slightly annoyed at Steve for getting into a fight this late, and got up to get a pain killer to hopefully numb the ghost pain. From what you could tell after past experiences, it helped. As you rounded your bed for the bathroom, your knuckles bursted with pain and made you stop and grasp at them. Steve must have thrown a punch and hit his target. You didn't have much time to process that thought before an onslaught of attacks bombarded you. Harder and harder and harder, one after the next you could feel the swings and blows. Every punch to the face and gut, explosion after explosion of searing pain rattled your skull. You couldn't breathe, couldn't even cry out for help. Eventually you became too dizzy to stand and found yourself collapsing to your carpet in a whirlwind of invisible strikes to your head and face.

That night, you passed out on your bedroom floor. When you awoke in the same spot, you were greeted with an angry agony you had never felt the likes of before. Every heartbeat made your sight shift, your eyes strained and ached, your nose felt as though it were broken, and your mid section felt deeply bruised. You were stuck in bed for days afterwards, sensitive to any kind of loud noise or light. You were certain Steve had managed to get a concussion, however you were too miserable yourself to try and pursue him. Headaches became your best friend, and it wasn't a kind one.

When you went back to school, you were met with Steve looking literally like death. From a safe distance, you could see that both his eyes were blackened, his lip looked busted and healing, and he had a few scratches over his forehead. Rumors circled around you that Steve and the new kid, Billy, had gone at it a week prior, and Steve was obviously the loser in the fight.

You found yourself staring at him more than you probably had in the past year. You had no intention of speaking to him, but you couldn't avert your eyes. Your head still throbbed with his and you couldn't deny that you felt pity for him. Once or twice he happened to catch you staring, sharing a moment before you eventually turned away sadly. That happened a few times in fact, so you should have expected him to be at your doorstep not long after.

He held a single flower, your favorite kind, and your favorite candy. His bruised, purple face practically pouted at you as he rambled on an apology, saying he understood if you didn't want to be his friend again, that he was a douche for no reason and he doesn't deserve much, but he wanted to try again and make it up to you. The longer you let him ramble, the harder he was on himself, until finally you leapt forward and embraced him.

"I knew it wasn't you," You spoke into his shoulder. "I was just waiting until you figured that out too."

After many long talks about the time lost and the mistakes made, you both managed to pick up where you had started. You sat with him at lunch again like old times. Not many people did anymore. You gave him some tips on how to better heal his scarring, you came to watch him play basketball, and you offered him pain killers when you could feel one of his head aches coming on. You noticed he tended to get more of those since the fight with Billy. He always looked so shocked when you offered, but you made the excuse saying you had a headache and wanted to offer while you had the pills out. It seemed to appease him enough, and he never dug any further about it.

It didn't take long for you to realize you liked being around him… like, really liked it. After some thought, you realized you always had. And it wasn't like it was hard to find time to be with him. Other than Dustin Henderson, you seemed to be his only close friend again. It got to the point where by spring of the next year, you were sleeping over at his house quite often. You never slept in the same bed, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't wanted to ask to.

One day he picked you up for one of the last days before graduation with a sour look on his face. His greeting was deadpan as you got in his passenger seat.

You snickered at him as you pulled your seat belt on. "What's up with you, grumpy?"

"Parents, that's what's up," He grumbled, backing out of your driveway. The way he put his hand on the back of your headrest made you stare for a moment.

Damn him.

"What they do this time?"

"Dads not letting me work for him. And he won't pay for college either."

Your brow came together in confusion. "Wait, what? Why? I thought that's been the plan all these years. You graduate and then help him or go to school."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too," He sighed, "But the old man's making me go out and work to get a job. Said he doesn't want to hand me everything and that I need to learn respect and responsibility, blah blah blah…"

Well at least he didn't hit you this time, you thought to yourself. Unfortunately, you always knew when his dad hit him… Every single time. His favorite technique was to slap Steve square in the face, hard. No one else did that. No one else even knew. Steve didn't even know you knew.

You tilted your head as you thought. "Well… What if you tried to work with me? At the new mall this summer? I'm pretty sure I have a solid 'in' at the ice cream place."

Steve scoffed, half smiling. "An ice cream shop?"

"Oh come on, it's not the worst place. It will at least give you something to put on a resume. Just a summer job. Ya know, work your way up, get experience or whatever."

"I guess…" He thought, then brought his hand up and pointed at you. "But only if you work there too."

"Aw, what, would you miss me working somewhere else? Need me to hold your hand at your first job?"

He rolled his eyes, finally smiling for the first time that morning. "You wish. No, see, the plan is to make you talk to all the bitchy 40 year old moms while I eat free strawberry ice cream in the back all day."

Your brow perked up. "Strawberry ice cream? Strawberry? When did that become your favorite?"

He shrugged. "Since, like, forever….. Don't look at me like that, it has clear supremacy over the other flavors."

The rest of the ride to school that morning was spent in a useless debate over ice cream flavors and how you had managed to go so long not knowing his favorite. You insisted on gaslighting him that strawberry had never been his favorite.

Later that month, right after the end of the school year, you both were locked in to work at Scoops Ahoy together.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

"Another 'you suck', Harrington. What a surprise," Robin teased flatly from the back room, a squeaky tally added to the many others accumulated on the whiteboard that day.

You smirked, which was hidden from Steve behind you as you refilled the banana and strawberry slices for that afternoon.

Steve groaned and slapped his hat down on the counter next to you. "What am I doing wrong?" When he was answered with only your chuckles he shook his head. "No, really, what am I doing wrong? There's gotta be something I could change and you guys just aren't telling me."

You and Robin stole a glance at each other before snorting and continuing to laugh.

"Look buddy," You offered, turning to him. "I'm going to put this in the nicest way possible."

Steve raised his brow and stood straight in attention.

"You're coming off super desperate."

His posture sagged again and he rolled his eyes. "Desperate, okay… Well how do I not come off as desperate?"

"Don't BE desperate, dummy," Robin laughed.

"I'm not actually desperate!"

"Yes you are," You and Robin chimed at the same time.

You grabbed your trash from the counter and looked at the girl in front of you, shaking your head with a half smile. "He asks us for help and then ignores us." You say as you push past Steve to get to the back.

She shrugged. "The life of every woman talking to a man."

"Oh, come on," Steve interjects, following you at the heel, "What makes you the expert at flirting with girls anyway?"

"I don't know, cause I am one?" You call over your shoulder, tossing your trash and gloves in the bin before walking over and sitting down at the table.

"Fine," He mutters, striding over to you and leaning on the table to loom extremely close over you. You could smell his cologne and the way his hot breath brushed your forehead. "How should I flirt then, Miss Professional?"

Like that, you think to yourself, butterflies suddenly having a party in your stomach. The smug look on his face was one you'd seen many times before, the one he wore when he tried to get under your skin… The one he wore when he knew he would.

Immediately you remembered Robin's presence not 10 feet next to you. You quickly glanced at her, saw that she was watching, and in a panic you kicked Steve in the shin. Just as immediately, you regretted that decision as you felt an affliction on your own shin.

Steve let out a yelp as he stumbled and squat down to hold his leg. Robin laughed while you pulled your own leg up into the chair, holding it as if it were casual and not because you were doctoring pain as well.

"Does that count as another 'you suck'?" Robin asks joyfully through giggles. You can't help but smile back at her.

"I'll let you judge it," You reply, pretending to be neutral. In reality, the butterflies hadn't calmed down in your tummy and you knew you'd be thinking about that interaction for the rest of the night.

Damn him.

Robin whirled around to put yet another tally under 'you suck'. When she did you looked at Steve to see him standing in recovery shaking his pained leg as he did so.

"Screw you guys, I'm going on break," He announced. Before he walked through the door, though, you caught him glancing back at you, a boyish glint in his eye.

No really, damn him.

As soon as he was gone, Robin whirled back around to you and squinted her eyes. "I saw that, you know."

Shin still aching, you rubbed it mindlessly. "Saw what?"

She rolled her eyes and walked closer, leaning down with her palms on the table. "That split second look on your face that said 'Whatever you want, Stevie!'" She mimicked in a high pitched mockery. "It was pretty gross."

"Woah, okay," You croaked, trying to ignore her knowing smirk, "That's- That's not what happened, okay?"

"Oh please, your cheeks are still as red as those strawberries," She tutted. "Not the first time that's happened either, you know. I've seen you blush plenty because of him."

All you could do is fight the heat on your face and shake your head in disbelief, trying to play it off as not a big deal.

But it was a big deal.

Nobody knew of your rather new acknowledgement of your crush on Steve. And of all the people you'd want knowing about your secret crush, Robin was VERY low on the list. Sure, in the short time working with her she had become a pretty nice work friend. You even hung out with her and Steve a few times after work every once in a while. But in the short time you'd gotten to know her, you learned one thing for sure: She was absolutely ass at keeping secrets.

Alas, that thought slipped your mind before what you said next.

"Rob, just drop it, it's not like I'd have a chance anyway," You muttered under your breath, standing from your seat to go back out to the front.

Your co-worker cut you off, jumping between you and the door. "Hold on, what? You actually do-....." You gave her a warning with your eyes. "Oh, I knew it!"

"Shut up, shut up," You whisper yelled, now realizing your mistake. "Look, just act like I said nothing, okay? He can't know- He shouldn't know."

Robin snaked her head back in shock. "You kidding me? Why? You see how badly he wants a date, right?"

"You see the kinds of girls he asks on dates, right?" You countered.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but none of them are remotely interested. He's going for all the wrong girls. You on the other hand-"

"Rob, Rob, listen," You hands grabbed hers in a hopeful grasp, "I need you to do everything in your power to keep this all to yourself, okay? He's my closest friend and I don't want anything screwing that up right now."

Robin could see the desperation in your eyes and she sighed, a small pout on her lips. "That's what you really want?"

You nodded fervently, hoping to wrap up this conversation before Steve returned.

She sighed again, this time overdramatically, and stomped her foot on the ground like a child. "Fine. But I'm making a new tally board for you. It'll just be on a piece of paper in my pocket." She smiled proudly.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

Working at Scoops with Steve was the worst possible thing you could have done. For one, you had to stand there every day and watch him flirt with every girl in the vicinity. Every girl except you, that is. Unfortunately, your feelings had done nothing but grow, making each shift with Steve heaven and hell at the same time. You didn't think it could get any worse.

And then it did.

Because now you were trapped under the mall in a secret Russian base, tied up and locked in a room with Robin.

Yeah, working at Scoops was a mistake.

"Why did they separate us?" You asked, voice trembling as you stared at the locked metal door in front of you. "Why would they need Steve?"

Robin looked up from trying to chew through her bindings on her wrist, sweat shining on her forehead. "I don't… I don't know, maybe to sort this out?"

You turned to her, a hopeless manner about you as you lifted your own bound wrists. "This doesn't look like harmless sorting out, Rob."

"We can at least hope, right? I mean… I mean Steve's charismatic or whatever, he can tell them that us getting here was a mistake and that we just work at the mall and… Yeah, he can do that. He's good at talking, I mean he talks all the time. They'll just…. just take us back to the surface and-" Robin rambled, pacing circles around you like a toy car on a full battery.

"I just don't have a good feeling about thi-" You were cut off by an invisible punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of you and causing you to double over slightly.

Shit.

Robin was immediately at your side. "Woah, hey, hey, what's wrong?... It's okay. It's okay we'll get out of here-" She continued on, her panicked voice becoming like white noise in the background.

Another searing pain, this time square on the nose, then again in the gut. You let out a groan, both in pain and realization.

What the hell were they doing to Steve?

You inhaled carefully, putting your bound hands up to your face in agony.

"Shit, please, tell me what's wrong?" Robin's worried voice faded back in as she grasped at one of your shoulders.

You shook your head as you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling another blow to the face. "Steve," You choked out, tears brimming your eyes.

"What about Steve?"

You looked up to her in terror. "They're hurting him- agh!" Another punch, this one you felt deep in your ribs and made your legs give out, falling to the floor.

Robin followed, kneeling next to you. "How do you know that? What's going on?"

You panted, trying not to wheeze as it became painful to breathe properly. Another punch, right in the eye socket pushed a whimper out of you as the tears started to fall.

"Does this have to do with that weird portal thing or something?"

You shook your head helplessly, knowing just as much about that weird experiment as she did. Somehow Steve and Dustin knew about it, but that fact was far in the back of your mind now.

Another hit to the already bruised nose exploded over your face, making you struggle to hold in an audible cry.

Robin was now also on the brink of tears. "Please, please, give me something, I don't know what to do!"

With all your will you looked up at her to answer in shallow breaths. "I can feel- feel it. They're torturing him."

She put her hand up to your face scrunched up in pain. "How do you know?"

"I've always-... augh," You groaned again, letting your head drop out of her grasp as you tried controlling your reactions. It was no use. Your head was beginning to hurt as a whole. Eventually you laid down on the cold floor, helpless to any attack Steve was receiving in the other room. Helpless to stop it.

In your state, Robin didn't dare ask any more questions. Things were more complicated than she realized. Although she didn't fully understand, she knew that whatever was happening was bad. Very bad. And she was as helpless to stop it as you.

The time went by so slowly, and the punches never stopped. They kept hitting the same spots over and over and over again. If anything, they got harder and more frequent. One after the next. Occasionally you were given a break, but those breaks were experienced in tense anticipation for the inevitable next hit.

The tears were uncontrollable, slowly soaking the concrete below you. Movement hurt. Breathing hurt. Being awake hurt. Steve hurt.

What if they killed him? Would you feel that too?

The thought only spurred on the flow of tears.

The entire time, Robin was knelt beside you, a hand on your arm stroking, attempting any way possible to comfort you through your obvious torment. Both of you sat in helplessness together.

Then, finally, your tense body went limp and your whimpers halted.

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