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writingreadinglurkingandsmirking · 9 months

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Hold Me Down (Is This A New Start?) - Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: After a long, hard day of work you just want to go home and go to bed. But, when you get a persistent knock on your door from Rafe fucking Cameron. you know you’re gonna have a long night ahead. Letting him in, after two months of not seeing him, you fully anticipated a screaming match. But, you got something much different than you bargained for—much better too.

CW/TWs: brief angst, brief mentions of Rafe being on house arrest lol, feminine pronouns used, gorgeous/sweet girl/baby/darlin' as nicknames, toxic behavior, canon-adjacent Rafe, mean-ish Rafe, smut, piv sex, oral sex (male receiving), impact play, (not really) lowkey daddy kink, brat reader, dumbification, degradation kink, praise kink, overstimulation, breath play, unprotected sex (be safe I am nawt your mom gn), allusions to a pain kink for sure, mushy gushy sweet ending, not highly edited or reviewed

Words: 8.1k+

Note: 18+ MDNI, really just fucking don’t. I wrote this one in first person because writing in second person irritates my very soul. Uhhhh so this kinda came out of left field and I did nawt plan on writing this but here we are! But such is life! Anyways…back to regularly scheduled programming.

It had been a long day - too long. There was something exceedingly exhausting about living paycheck to paycheck that the average person didn’t understand. There was nothing quite as specific as the exhaustion that you encountered by overworking yourself day after day, week after week, month after month, all for nothing. Because that’s what this all amounted to. Nothing. Nothing extra at the end of the week to take home, nothing to do anything nice with. Just nothing. And nothing sucked the joy out of your day like knowing you’d have to get up the next day and do it all over again.

When I’d finally gotten home from a shift that didn’t end until almost the crack of fucking dawn - a good twelve hours after I was supposed to have gotten off shift - there was not a thing I wanted more than to sleep. Still, even as I sat on my fucking couch, my woes could not end. There was a loud, demanding knock on the door.

The first time I ignored it.

The second time I ignored it.

The third time, an annoyed voice accompanied the knock.

“Baby, open the fucking door,” came the snarl from the other side. I groaned and ran my hands down my face. I really didn’t want to deal with Rafe today. Not like that had ever deterred him before. “Baby, come on. Listen. Please. The cops are fucking trolling around outside. Baby, please open the door.”

I groaned and pulled myself to my feet, opening the apartment door. Standing there, looking at pitiful as ever was Rafe fucking Cameron. The bane of my existence. My more-or-less on-again-off-again boyfriend—though I’d sooner bash my head against the door than admit that. I glared at the ass who had done nothing but make my life harder since he’d entered it. Then, I stepped to the side and let him in. He stepped in and closed the door quickly, locking it behind him. He turned to me and pressed an absent-minded kiss to my forehead before going to sit down on the couch.

“You look like shit, darlin’,” he said. When he even had the decency to look up and notice I was there.

“Thanks,” I said dryly. I looked down at his leg. His ankle monitor looked fucked. “What the fuck did you do this time?”

“Just a little mod,” he said casually. “I needed to get out for a minute.”

“Why did you come here?” I demanded. “Did you stash more fucking coke in my house I swear to fucking God I will kill you. I am not catching a fucking charge for you, asshole.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why would I leave my coke with you knowing that you’d throw it out, baby? That’s just bad business. Besides, darlin’ the cops aren’t outside for me some loser is probably getting caught selling a few doors down again. And hey? It’s a crime to want to see you now, darlin’?” he asked, winking.

“No. But it is a crime to skip out on house arrest, Rafe,” I said blandly. “And I know damn well that you’re not here because you want to see me. I’m just convenient to you like fucking always.”

He rolled his eyes as if I were being the dramatic one. “What’s wrong now, gorgeous?” he drawled. “Always seems like there’s something these days, hmm?”

I clenched my jaw. “Fuck you, Rafe. Get the hell out,” I snapped.

Rafe frowned. Stood again and walked over to me. He placed his hands on my hips, refusing to leave. I, in turn, refused to look at him. “Look at me, darlin’,” he demanded. Reluctantly I did. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t answer. He brushed my hair back from my face and just kept looking at me. “Come on, sweet girl. Tell me…what’s wrong.” He smiled to himself when I still didn’t answer. “You know better than anyone I’m not going to leave until you tell me, baby…so come on…what’s wrong with my sweet girl?”

“Fuck you,” I repeated weakly, pulling out of his arms. I plopped down on my couch, curling into myself and closing my eyes. “Just fucking leave when you see the cops are gone. I can’t be bothered today.” The asshole had the audacity to laugh at my words. “Shut the fuck up, Rafe.”

Dramatically, Rafe sighed and knelt down on the ground in front of me. I felt him grab my knees and pull me to face him. I had no choice but to unfurl, otherwise, I would’ve fallen into him, which I had no interest in doing. So, I leaned back into the couch, trying to ignore the heat of his hand sinking into my cold legs through worn jeans. It was hard to ignore that. Hard to ignore any of him, really. And he knew that. That’s why he only waited through my stubborn silence for a few minutes.

“Come on, baby,” he hummed. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’m sorry I’m a dick, darlin’…you know I care.”

I laughed weakly, eyes still closed. “No. No, you don’t,” I said flatly.

He ignored my words and kept rubbing my legs. “It’s so fucking cold in here, baby,” he commented. “And your legs are freezing. Your heat not working?”

“No, it's working. It’s just too fucking expensive to heat this shitty goddamn apartment and I’m not forking over more money to the cunt landlord,” I said sharply, glaring at him. “Did you suddenly forget what life is like if—” I cut myself off, shaking my head.

He had the audacity to glare back if you could believe it. Then, he slapped my inner thigh. “I told you to call me if you needed help,” he hissed. He slapped my other thigh. “The fuck are you doing? What game are you playing at, baby?”

I pushed him away from me with my foot. “A game where I don’t need to rely on a man who is a fucking wannabe felon,” I snapped.

He rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Newsflash, baby, you do need me,” he said, sounding way too smug about it.

“Fuck you, Rafe. I need a bullet to the brain more than I need you,” I sneered.

“That’s cute.” He continued on like I didn’t even speak in the first place. “I could give you that, if you want. But that doesn’t change anything about it, darlin’. You need my money, you need my cock, you need my love. You’ve said it yourself that no one gives it to you as good as I do. And I know you haven’t been looking which means you’re still as invested in this as I am. So.” He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “When I tell you if you need my fucking money to heat your stupid apartment because your ass is too stubborn to move in with me…then you fucking call me.”

“You are not my fucking father,” I snapped, pulling out of his tough.. “Like I said. Bullet to the fucking brain before this shit anymore. I’m sick of it.”

“I don’t know. You do call me daddy a lot,” he mocked. He smiled down at me, but there was hardly any warmth to it. “But, oh? You’re so sick of it, hmm? You want to be brainless?” He laughed. “Well, I can make you brainless without having to put a hole in your pretty little head.” He wound his hand tightly in my hair, pulling my face towards his while I sharply inhaled. “And you’ll remember exactly why you’re not done with me, gorgeous.”

I glared at him. “I haven’t seen you in two months. The last time I did see you, you called me a stupid, worthless cunt and told me that you never wanted to see me again. And you think you can just show up here and get me to listen to you?” I demanded. I felt my face heating with my frustration. “Just like that? You think you’re…you think you’re worth me listening to?” I laughed. “Like I said. Fuck you, Rafe. I deserve…I deserve so much better than this. Than you.”

There was a mocking pout on his face. He reached out and grabbed my face again, squeezing my chin. “You think you’re going to find someone better than me?” he asked incredulously. He let out a laugh. “And where do you think you’ll find someone like that?” I didn’t answer. I refused to give him the satisfaction. He chuckled, but then his face went serious. “I’m sorry that I haven’t seen you in months, darlin’. I’m sorry that I said I never wanted to see you again. I was pissed, sweet girl. I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh you never mean it,” I said, the sarcasm’s impact dampened by the tearful sound of my voice.

He moved his hand from my chin to cup my face. I hated myself for it, but I did lean into the touch. “Come on, sweet girl…don’t be like that, baby,” he said. He leaned forward and dropped a kiss to the side of my neck. “You know that I love you.” Another kiss, followed by a short nip. “I’ve been busy, darlin’. That’s all. I’m sorry. I should’ve called, sweet girl. I know that. I’m not mad.”

“You were mad,” I accused, glaring at him.

“I was mad, baby,” he said, deceptively calm. “I was…frustrated that you wouldn’t let me take care of you. I just want what’s best for you. But I’m not mad anymore.”

“Well maybe I’m mad at you,” I retorted, harshness still lessened by the teary voice and the way I leaned into him.

“That’s okay,” he practically cooed. He pressed another kiss to my neck then moved so we were face to face, just a breath between us. He smirked, eyes drifting down to my lips and then back up. “You can be mad at me as long as you want, sweet girl. Just as long as you tell me that you love me.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. “No,” I said stubbornly.

“Come on, sweet girl, please,” Rafe purred, stroking my neck with his hand lazily. “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you,” I said, voice breaking. My eyes popped open and I felt the tears in them.

Rafe’s smirk didn’t waver, but his eyes did soften. He let out a hum and wiped a tear that slipped. “There’s my sweet girl,” he cooed. He leaned forward and pressed a long, languid kiss to my lips. “Let me make it up to you, baby.” Another long kiss—lazier this time. “Let me apologize for calling you names, baby.” Another kiss. “Remind you that you’re my special, sweet girl.”

I huffed. “Oh so you wanna fuck me and suddenly I’m not a stupid, worthless cunt then?” I spat, voice dripping insecurity.

Rafe rolled his eyes so hard I was shocked that his eyes didn’t stick in the back of his head. “You’re not a stupid, worthless cunt. You’re my sweet girl and you know it,” he drawled. “I was a little fucking high when I said that. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

I gave him a withering glare. “Oh and you’re not high now?” I asked even though I could already tell he wasn’t. He gave me a flat look and I deflated, leaning back, covering my face as I leaned against the arm of the couch. I sniffled. “Okay, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean it.”

He chuckled dryly and rubbed my leg gently. “It’d be fair if you did,” he drawled. He squeezed my leg. “And it’s fine that it’s not fair, sweet girl. I wasn’t fair. So.” He grabbed my legs and lowered them both to the floor. He gently pried my legs open leaning further into my space, hands dancing up both my thighs now. “How about I be real nice and make it up to you?”

“No,” I said stubbornly, glaring half-heartedly down at him. I felt his hand toy with the waist of my jeans, dancing just over the button. “I don’t want you to.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, unconvinced considering I’d begun to lean into his space more, opening my legs to give him more space to occupy, more space to get closer. “Oh?” he posed, tone almost mocking. “You don’t want to?”

“No,” I corrected, grabbing his hand, putting it back on my hair to silently prompt him to grab it just as he did before. “I don’t want you to be nice.” I glowered at him .”It’s been two months, Rafe. I need…”

He let out a low chuckle, eyes dark with quickly emerging lust. “Fuck, darlin’, tell me…what do you need?” he asked.

I blinked slowly, still looking right into his eyes, intoxicated by him already from such a short time together. “I need you to take care of me like you always do,” I said quietly.

Immediately, his hand wound tightly through my hair and he rose to his feet, forcing me to tilt my head up. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I looked up at him, my eyes wide and wanting. I bit my lip, eyes trailing slowly down his body, to his belt at my eye level, and then back up. He chuckled again, grinning down at me. He wound his hand a bit tighter in my hair making me let out a squeak as he dragged me just a bit closer to his body.

“You need me to take care of you?” he posed, tone just shy of mocking. “Need me to help turn off that gorgeous fucking brain of yours, baby?” He used his free hand to trail down my cheek, fingers briefly touching my neck and stopping there. “Need me to fuck you stupid, sweet girl?”

Taking a shaky breath, I reached out, hand loosely holding his belt buckle. “Yes,” I said breathlessly.

I reveled in the sudden, sharp sting in my cheek. “Try again,” he warned, voice raspy.

“Yes…please fuck me stupid, daddy,” I said, batting my eyes up at him. “I don’t wanna think anymore.”

“Fuck,” Rafe muttered, his voice raspier still, thick with lust. He chuckled and loosened his hand in my hair before dropping it. He took his shirt off and then knotted a hand back in my hair. “Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of my sweet girl.” He stroked my cheek gently with his free hand before moving it to his belt buckle and undoing it with ease. He then smirked down at me, inclining his head. “Well? Take me out, darlin’.” I glanced down at his open belt but he tutted, tilting my chin back up. “No, baby. Keep your eyes on me.” His request was one that was most easy for me to accommodate considering I felt like I’d die if I looked away from him.

My hands trembled as I reached forward, taking the belt off of him. I was ready to throw it to the side but Rafe held out a hand. Without even questioning it, I placed it in his hand. He then set it to the side and gestured with his head at me to continue. Which, I happily did. I heard him let out a quiet chuckle as I undid the button on his pants and brought down the zipper without breaking eye contact. I almost hastily pulled down the fabric until it sagged the rest of the way down. I raised my eyebrows at Rafe in a silent plea.

“What, baby?” he asked, amused, tightening his grip on my hair. I let out a weak whine and pouted. “What? You gotta tell me what you want, sweet girl. Use your words.”

“I wanna see your cock,” I responded, hooking my hand on the hem of the waistband of his boxers. I tilted my head to the side, jutting my bottom lip out further. “Please, daddy.”

He let out a dark chuckle. “Okay, baby,” he drawled. I hummed, pleased with myself, and looked down, prepared to take his boxers off. But, he tutted, turning my head up with his grip on my hair so I’d meet his eyes again. “Nuh, uh, darlin’. Keep those gorgeous eyes on me still. Don’t you dare even think about looking at my cock yet, baby. Just get it out.”

“But—” I began to complain before being silenced with another warning slap on the cheek making me whine and pull back slightly; not that Rafe let me get very far.

“No but, baby. You listen to me. Be a good girl,” Rafe warned, tone darkening. “You know I want what’s best for you, right, sweet girl?” I nodded through teary eyes, looking back up at him. He cursed under his breath at the sight, tightening and then loosening his hand in my hair once more. “Good girl, baby. Such a good fucking girl. Now, get my cock out. And don’t even look at it.”

I shivered at the order but complied. I reached and used two fingers to gently drag the fabric of the boxers down until they too gave way, falling down past his knees. Using every bit of restraint I had, I kept my eyes locked on his, refusing to look at his dick even as it hung directly in front of my face. Rafe hummed, his free hand moving from his side to wrap around himself, pumping lazily. I swallowed, biting my tongue as a reminder to keep my eyes up. A mocking laugh fell from Rafe’s mouth at the sight and I felt my stomach tighten.

“Oh there’s my good girl,” he cooed. “She can finally fucking listen, huh? So proud of you baby. Little slut that you are, I didn't think you’d be able to do it.” I let out a tiny whimper at his words, feeling a growing, heated pit of arousal low in my stomach. I shifted slightly, just barely able to keep my eyes from falling down. He chuckled again and pursed his lips. “How about you take your clothes off for me baby? Then I’ll let you look all you want at your favorite part of me.”

“All my clothes, daddy?” I checked. He nodded. I all but raced myself to do so. I whipped off the shirt I had on with ease and shimmied out of my jeans easily enough. Sitting there in my bra and panties, Rafe told me to stop and so I paused, looking up at him. “Yes, daddy?”

“Nothing, darlin’…just wanna look at you a minute,” he said, eyes dark with lust. “So fucking pretty, baby. God on fucking high, can’t imagine what I did to deserve such a blessing.”

“Stop,” I dismissed, blushing.

“Nah, baby. You’re a fucking twelve-course meal and I plan to have all of ‘em,” he dismissed, stepping closer and grabbing my chin. “And you aren’t gonna say some dumb shit like that again. We clear, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” I murmured, feeling his thumb ghost up to trace my bottom lip. My breath hitched in my throat and he seemed to remember himself.

He pulled away and smirked down at me. “Bra and panties off. Let me see that pretty pussy, darlin’. Been missing it so much while I was gone,” he purred. I shivered at his words but peeled them off, shivering at the cold feeling of the air against my nipples and the cool fabric of the couch against my exposed core, quickly growing wet. “Fuck you’re so pretty. Look at you…all this…just for me.” He came closer again—even more this time—and his hand loosely went around my jaw, jerking my head up. “You are just for me, aren’t you baby?” I nodded immediately. He glared, his voice gruffer. “Words, darlin’. Or I might not be inclined to be too nice to you.”

“Yes, daddy,” I said breathlessly, wide-eyed. “All yours. Just for you.” I felt my heart beating rapidly in anticipation of seeing Rafe smile down at me. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?” he asked, hand still hooked around my jaw.

“Can I look please?” I asked sweetly, pouting up at him.

His lips quirked into a smirk and he narrowed his eyes looking at me, appraising. “I don’t know, baby. You think I should let you?” he asked.

“Please,” I said, pouting. “I just wan’ you. Want to see you. Wanna have you.”

“Awe with my sweet girl saying all that, well how could I say no?” he drawled, removing his hand from my neck to trail back and join the other in my hair. “Go ahead and look, darlin’. Take as long as you’d like.”

Ever so slowly, I broke my eye contact with Rafe, trailing my gaze down to his dick. Rafe’s confidence even as he stood bare as the day he was born was one of the things that had initially attracted me to him. But, looking at him now, lazily pumping his hand over his cock while he smirked down at me? I don’t think that I’d ever been quite so down bad for him. Which was…concerning, maybe? Pathetic, perhaps? But I didn’t care. At that moment, with his long, thick dick just hovering right in front of me, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him. Of how long I’d wanted him…of how long I’d waited.

“What? I don’t even gotta fuck you to turn that pretty brain off anymore?” he said, voice an alluring growl as he let out a dark sort of chuckle. “Got you so trained to take my dick you don’t even try to fight it, do you sweet girl?”

I shifted at his words, suddenly feeling my core flutter at his words, clenching regrettably—miserably—around nothing. His smirk increased tenfold at that and he stepped closer so that there was practically no space between us, not that there had been much before. Now, his cock stood proudly just next to my face. Again, ever so slowly I raised my eyes to meet his again. And the desperation must’ve been clear in my gaze if the smug, self-satisfied look in his were anything to go by.

“And this was supposed to be for you,” he hummed. “My dumb little baby won’t be able to think for herself and tell me what she wants when I get started, will she?” I let out a pathetic little whimper. “You just need something in that sweet little pussy and your perfect mouth, huh?” His eyes trailed down to my lips, briefly displaying the heated desire he was feeling before moving to meet mine again. “Tell me one thing, darlin’, okay? Think your cute lil’ brain can take that?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said, voice coming out breathy. I squirmed slightly, squeezing my thighs together to avoid doing something like grinding on the couch and making him stop this before it even started.

“I don’t have too much patience before I gotta get in that tight fucking cunt, gorgeous,” he drawled. “So…tell me. You want me to eat that pretty pussy? Or do you want to choke on my cock?” He grinned, sharp-edged and shark-like. “It’s up to you.” An aborted moan came out of me at his words. The answer for me, right now, at least, was obvious. I glanced down at his dick and then back up. “Nuh uh, darlin’. You tell me which one you want.”

“I want you to fuck my throat,” I whined, looking up at him wide-eyed.

Rafe chuckled, hands tightening in my hair. “I’ll give you a pass on not addressing me properly this once because you said something so sweet, darlin’. But don’t do it again,” he said, half-mocking, half-warning. I nodded eagerly. One hand released my hair. He pat my cheek and then held my jaw tightly between two fingers. “That’s my girl.” The possessiveness dripped off his tone. “Now be good for daddy and open that fucking mouth.”

My mouth fell open without much thought after that. He grinned as I left it open, tongue sticking out just the way he liked it. His thumb pressed down on my tongue, head tilting slightly to the side as he looked at me. I moaned at even that simple feeling, my body practically trembling with want for him. But, for a good few long moments, that’s all he did, slowly pressing his thumb more against my tongue. But, after a few moments, he drew it away, using his free hand to lazily pump his cock—still only half-hard—in his hand. I inhaled shakily, eyes looking at his heavy cock, knowing the weight and feel of it without even touching it.

“Mmm,” Rafe said, letting out a leisurely sigh as he jerked himself off in front of me. “You want my dick, sweet girl?” I nodded eagerly, tongue still shamelessly hanging out of my mouth. “You want me to make you choke on my fucking cock, baby?” Again, I nodded and he groaned. “You’re so fucking sexy, darlin’, fuck.” I watched with rapt attention as a bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip of his dick. I heard Rafe chuckle not a moment later. “Holy shit are you drooling, baby? Fuck, you really want this dick, huh? Well, I don’t wanna leave you wanting.”

Rafe used the hand in my hair to bring my head closer and anchor it in place. His other hand still held his dick that he was bringing towards my awaiting mouth. The second I felt the tip of his dick touch my tongue I groaned in appreciation at finally having something, feeling myself growing wetter and wanting. Already, with him not even having touched me yet, I was a mess. Rafe knew it damn well too. He chuckled, slapping his dick against my tongue making me inhale sharply then let out a tiny little whimper.

“Should I stop teasing you baby?” he said, voice measured, even, and entirely unaffected—as if he were in a business meeting and not getting ready to ruin my throat. “Should I make sure you lose your voice tomorrow now?” I nodded as best I could while ensuring that his dick did not fall from my tongue which just made him let out another low groan. “Alright, then, baby. You asked for it. Time for you to put that fucking mouth to work.”

I barely had the time to inhale before I felt Rafe’s heavy member settling against my tongue. I let out a breathy moan, reflexively hollowing out my cheeks and bobbing my head to take him further into my mouth. I moved my hands to touch him and he slapped them away.

“No fucking hands,” he grunted, pulling my hair so I’d look up at him before pushing me down to the hilt of him, nose settling against his pelvis. He cursed and I felt his dick pulse in my mouth as he looked down at me, eyes dark and wanting. “So fucking pretty when I’m stretching your fucking mouth open, baby. Look at you. So fucking good.” My core fluttered again at his words, clenching and unclenching while I felt myself starting to dampen the couch slightly the wetter I got. “Gonna fuck your throat now, darlin’.”

With the minimal warning issued, he thrust heavily, pulling out of my mouth almost entirely before thrusting entirely back in. I forced myself to breathe through my nose, relaxing before something unfortunate could happen like my gag reflex being triggered. I moaned around him, using my tongue as little as I could find myself able to when he started to consistently, aggressively thrust himself to the back of my throat. I whimpered at the feeling, grinding absent-mindedly against the rough fabric of the couch, letting my tongue trace along the vein on the underside of his dick.

Rafe caught sight of my desperate rutting against the couch and he let out a dark, slightly breathless chuckle without interrupting the pace of his thrusting. “God, look at my desperate fucking baby. What, is daddy not taking care of you fast enough? Fuck,” he grunted. “You wanna grind like a desperate, needy, brainless little toy? I should make you fucking get off of my thigh without me touching you?” My choked whine of displeasure at the threat made him let out another mean sort of laugh. “Don’t worry, darlin’. That’s gonna be for later.” I let out another whine at the promise then. “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you get yourself off on my leg and then I’m gonna eat your pussy so good. Gonna make you cum for me at least five times before I stop. I’ll fucking tie you up if I gotta, gorgeous. Gonna make my sweet girl so overstimulated she’s not gonna think ‘bout anything but my fucking cock…my fucking mouth…my fucking hands.” Each word was punctuated by a pointed thrust down my throat. “As if you think about anything else, my dumb little fuckin’ baby, yeah?”

When he pulled out of my mouth entirely, releasing my hair, I reflexively gasped in a breath of air, eyes wide and watering. I looked up at him. But, Rafe was still non-plussed by how fucked out I already was. He wasn’t even pausing, barely breaking even a bead of sweat across his gorgeous, obscenely perfect body. No, instead, he knelt down in front of me, one hand making its way immediately to my pussy and finding my clit like two ends of a magnet attracting to each other. He let out a low tutting sound, shaking his head at me as I bucked my hips against his hand before I could stop myself.

“So fucking sloppy, pretty girl. Is this all for me?” he asked, his voice both teasing and harsh. “Barely even done anything to you, baby. You’re just that much of a needy little fuckin’ slut for me, huh?” I let out a high-pitched keening noise and he hummed, wrapping his hand around my throat to make me focus on him even as he slipped two thick digits inside of me. “You want me, baby?” His voice was husky, rasping and his alluring eyes were locked intently on me.

“Yes, daddy,” I whined, voice weak around the whining and moans that I couldn’t help but release as he finger fucked me into oblivion. Even with so little direct stimulation, I felt my legs starting to tremble and my stomach starting to tighten, coiling and ready to barrel quickly towards release. Rafe could tell too based on the way my pussy was practically trying to swallow his fingers whole. “Please.”

“Please what, sweet girl?” he cooed, pretending like he didn’t already know damn well what I wanted.

“Fuck me,” I begged.

“Oh but you sound so pretty when you’re whining, gorgeous,” he groaned. “And I need you to be nice and fuckin’ ready for me. So I need you to cum for me before I fuck you.” My stomach tightened further just on the edge of sweet, sweet release that I’d been missing the past two months while he was missing on fucking house arrest. “Okay, baby?”

“Okay,” I sobbed, hips trying to buck even as he used his massive hand to direct my hips to keep the rhythm he wanted, the other tightening around the outside of my throat, making my eyes roll.

“Good girl,” he huffed. He paused his speech a moment, his fingers moving even faster, making me choke out a sobbing moan, head falling back until he squeezed my throat again in warning, making me lift my head. He then issued a command. A single word. “Cum.”

And who was I to disobey?

The coil in my stomach exploded into a mirage of light behind my eyes as they rolled back. I felt a slightly shrill shriek erupt from my mouth more than I actually heard myself. And all that I could think of beyond the veil and haze of pleasure was the feeling of Rafe’s hands, his skin so close to me. He supported my body as I slumped against him, both of his hands moving to rest low on my hips.

“Good job, gorgeous. You look so fucking pretty falling apart for me,” he encouraged, his voice an appreciative, warm grumble of affection. His hands ghosted up and down my sides. “You ready for me to fuck you, pretty little thing?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said, letting out a long, shaky sigh. I reached out, hands trailing up the planes of his solid chest, leaning my head on him to listen to his steady, calm heartbeat. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Of course, baby,” he said. I could hear the smugness in his voice but I didn’t care. He leaned me back on the couch and moved to get up. I let out a whine of dissatisfaction and grabbed his hand tightly, pulling him back towards me. He looked amused as he raised a brow. “I have to go get a condom, sweet girl.”

“No,” I said stubbornly.

“No?” he asked.

“Have you been fucking bitches on house arrest?” I asked, bottom lip jutting out.

He reached out, pulling my lip down and looking at it in undisguised intrigue. “No,” he admitted.

“Well, then you haven’t worn a condom with me before. So fuck’s sake, Rafe just fuck me,” I demanded.

Rafe’s eyes had a hardened sort of glee to them. His hand moved before I registered it and my head turned as his palm made contact with my cheek. Again, my core clenched around nothing. This time, I bit back the moan that threatened to escape.

“Who?” he warned, sounding all too happy to remind me of my place.

“Fuck me, daddy,” I reiterated, still with an extreme attitude. “Fuck me, don’t pull out cum in me, I don’t care. Just fuck me, daddy.”

“Drop the attitude,” Rafe said, a final warning.

“No,” I spat, knowing exactly where it would get me. You know, right where I wanted.

Instead of slapping me again as I’d first expected, Rafe tilted my head up with just his pointer finger under my chin, his shark-like smile back again. “Do you want to be punished, baby?” he asked, sounding all too eager. I offered no answer. He used his free hand and slapped me, harder this time. I couldn’t bite back the moan this time, or the way that my hand tried to drift between my legs. He caught my wrist easily to stop me. “Answer me or I’m gonna stop. I’ll walk out the fucking door, darlin’.” My bottom lip quivered at the thought, chest heaving. “Do you want a punishment, baby?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” I admitted after another stubborn moment.

“Well why didn’t you say so, darlin’,” he cooed sarcastically.

In a flurry of movement, Rafe sat on the couch and had me over his knee. My bare, soaked cunt made contact with his hard knee and I choked on a moan at that feeling. I barely had time to register the change in position before he landed his first hit on my ass. I yelped at the feeling, reflexively trying to squirm away from the pain, even as I felt a jolt of pleasure at the feeling. Rafe held my hips in place easily with one hand, keeping me firmly on his lap, and used the other to lay a hard slap against my ass, making me yelp again.

“That feel fucking good baby?” he grunted, slapping me again. I didn’t answer, a sharp, hissing inhale coming from my mouth. Another slap. Another whimper. “You should be fucking thanking me for this, darlin’. Disciplining your unruly fucking ass. Making you my good girl.”

“Thank you, daddy. Thank you, thank you. Please,” I whimpered, reflexively trying to squirm once more when his hand made contact with my ass yet again.

“Please, what, sweet girl? Remind you that you’re fucking mine? Oh, I am gonna, darlin’. This is just part of it,” he ground out. I could feel his rock-hard cock pressed against my side and I was torn between wanting it stuffed in my mouth and my pussy. Both thoughts escaped from my mind entirely as he landed another slap against my ass.

“More,” I ground out through clenched teeth, barely able to resist the urge to grind against his thigh and knee with the desperation that I was feeling.

“Needy little slut, you are, huh?” he asked, amused. His hands stopped their cyclical pattern of slapping my ass to rub the abused flesh for a moment. I felt his hand move between my legs more, teasing my entrance with his fingers. Naturally, I opened my legs for him. He chuckled at that. “Can’t wait to be stuffed with me, can you? Already brain dead to everything but me, aren’t you, sweet girl? You’re just my little plaything right now, aren’t you?” I buried my face in the couch and let out a groan, feeling his hand circling my clit again, lazily, not creating enough friction to do anything.

“Daddy, please,” I whined.

“Don’t worry, pretty little thing. I know just what you need to cum again. I decided I need two from you before I fuck this sweet little fucking pussy,” he grunted. With sudden and almost startling accuracy, Rafe slapped me again. This time, his hand made contact not with my ass but with my pussy, the sharp slap making me gasp and jerk from the pain. I let out a half-aborted scream and rocked back into his palm, panting from surprise. He openly laughed. “You didn’t think I forgot how much you liked that, did you, darlin’? Remember that real fucking well? So I’m gonna take care of this pussy just the way I know you need it.” I let out a breathy moan mixed with a cry as he spanked my clit once more. Again and again and again he did it until I felt like I was dripping sweat on my whole body and my pussy was soaked with my juices—the couch too for that matter. “Fuck me, baby, your pussy is so pretty all puffy like this. She’s just crying for me. You want me so bad your poor fucking brain can’t handle it, can it?” I let out a pathetic little whimper, unable to muster much more. “I tell you what, darlin’. You cum from me slapping this pussy and I’ll fuck you til you pass out if that’s what you want. You wanna do that for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” I gasped immediately, hardly even grasping the words just knowing that I wanted the pleasure that had been slowly building to finally reach its fucking crescendo.

“Good girl,” he said before unleashing a series of slaps to my pussy in a pattern that I couldn’t have anticipated if I were in his damn brain myself.

This time, as I tumbled over the edge of pleasure, I wailed, jerking against his hand. I collapsed against Rafe’s leg as the aftershock of the second orgasm washed over me. I gasped for air like I’d been drowning and I felt Rafe’s hand tracing up and down my back lazily. As I caught my breath, he placed a final sharp slap to my pussy making me let out a weak yelp of complaint. Without being too gentle, Rafe maneuvered me off of his lap and over the arm of the couch. He let out an appreciative groan and I lifted my head to look back at him. I was startled to see him lifting the belt. My eyes widened as I felt him wrap it around my wrists, quickly binding me.

“You’re not getting away from me, gorgeous. Not when I finally get to fuck my pussy again. You’re nice and ready for me,” he said, sounding almost absent-minded as he spoke to me. He grunted as he slid into me with a single thrust. When he bottomed out we both let out moans—his low and mine high and keening—and I felt my body shake. “Fuck. When you can feel your legs I’m gonna fuck you so hard in doggy you’re gonna not walk the day after. But right now I just gotta finish the job, baby. Gotta turn your fuckin’ brain off forever.”

With that, he started to purposefully piston his hips, holding my bound wrists behind my back for better leverage. I was nearly boneless, shrieking in pleasure as his hot, throbbing cock stretched me open and brushed against each and every nerve ending just right—at least that was how it felt. How he felt. His thrusts were deep and slow and pointed. I sobbed against the feeling, wanting to rut back into him to make him speed up. But, I couldn’t muster the strength. So I just let him fuck into me at his own pace and I felt myself starting to build towards another bout of pleasure—this bound to be even stronger than before if the stars already behind my eyes were anything to go by.

“Daddy, please,” I sobbed, not knowing if I wanted more or less stimulation, more or less pleasure, from him.

Regardless of what I wanted, Rafe didn’t say anything. He grunted out a noise of acknowledgment that I’d spoken then doubled down in his efforts to make me cum again. And when he wrapped his arm around my throat again, tightening quickly and entirely, it was over. This time, as he forced me to a third orgasm, I was actually sobbing, tears running down my face from the fucked up amount of pain and pleasure entwined in being so overstimulated in such a short period of time—especially after so long away from him.

“There’s my good fucking girl,” Rafe said, voice slightly hoarse as he slowed his thrusts to a stop.

He still hadn’t cum himself, his dick fully pulsing inside of me with how hard he was. I dreaded what that meant, even though I also fully anticipated what I knew would come. He gently undid the belt from around my wrists, releasing me, and then eased himself out of me. He flipped me around on the couch and I looked at him with big watery eyes.

“Please no more,” I said, tears slipping down my cheeks. “It’s too much, please.”

“Come on, darlin’,” he cooed, pressing kisses to my cheeks. “Come on, sweet girl. You can give me one more. Been missing my pussy so much. You know I need one more from her.” Another series of kisses, the last one a long and lingering, filthy one to my lips where his tongue entwined with mine and we both pulled back needing air. “Please, baby. One more for me.”

His hand moved down, gently tracing my clit, making me jolt. Already I was so sensitive, so overstimulated. But, the impossibly sweet and imploring look on his face? The hunger he had for me? It was impossible to deny.

“Okay, daddy,” I agreed, sniffling.

He leaned his forehead against mine, grinning. “That’s my girl,” he said softly.

He hitched my leg up over his hip, settling between my legs on the couch. He used his free hand to grip his cock, looking down at us. He gently slapped the head of his dick against my clit once, twice, a third time until I whined and he chuckled, reaching over to press a short kiss to my lips to shut me up. He ran himself up and down my slit over and over until I was shivering and he saw a tiny dribble of new arousal dripping from me. He let out a low moan of his own and then sank into me in one, hitching my leg up again so he could thrust as deep as humanly possible.

“There you are, gorgeous. There’s my beautiful fucking girl,” Rafe praised, pressing a kiss to each cheek, to my lips, and to my forehead as he steadily thrust into me. “So fucking perfect for me. So fucking good for me, baby.”

“You feel so good, daddy,” I said, eyes rolling back and then curling as he pressed down on the slight bulge in my stomach only present because of him. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Anything for you, baby. Fucking anything,” he grunted. He ground slower against me instead of thrusting for a few moments. “You don’t get to keep me from my pussy anymore, baby. I gotta fucking be with you.”

“Wanna be with you, daddy,” I babbled in agreement.

“Good fucking girl,” he huffed, pressing down on the bulge again making me whimper. I felt his dick pulsate again and I tightened around him habitually making his breath hitch. “You gonna cum for me one more time, baby? I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” I whined. “Please can I cum? Please, please, please?” I begged.

“Fu-fuck yeah,” Rafe stuttered. “Cum with me baby.”

And this time, as I fell across pleasure’s razor edge once more, Rafe fell with me. I felt as he came inside me, hot and deep. My eyes rolled at the feeling, almost addicted to the mere feeling of him being so close and intensely part of me at that moment. I held him without realizing it, nails digging into the skin of his back as I held him against me, ignoring the fact that I was trembling like a leaf.

“So proud of you, my sweet girl. So good for me, gorgeous. Love you so much. So good for me.” Those were the first things I was coherent of hearing again when the whooshing in my ears had faded. They were the sweet praise that Rafe was offering. He went to move—to pull out—but I held him to me still, almost wrapping myself around him like a koala to stop it.

“No,” I denied. “Don’t move yet.”

“Okay, baby,” he agreed. “I won’t pull out. Do you want me to hold you?” I nodded. He carefully moved us. I winced as he adjusted us so that I was sitting up and in his lap because it made him deeper for a moment still but as we settled that faded and I just melted into his chest. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You did so good.” He stroked my skin and hair for a moment. “I gotta get you cleaned up, sweet girl. Get you some water.”

“Not yet,” I denied again, eyes closed as I leaned against him, as much of my skin touching him as possible. “Take care of me in a minute.”

He chuckled. “Oh? You’re gonna let me take care of you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered absent-mindedly. “Fine. You can take care of me, Rafe. I’ll stop being stubborn.” I needed his help. He’d been right about that when he showed up, I was adult enough to admit that. And I knew that he loved me. That he meant it from the best place.

“Really?” he asked, disbelieving. “You’re gonna move in with me? Let me take care of you? Just like that? All I had to do was fuck you like that?”

“Yeah. That’s all you had to do,” I agreed, far too exhausted to explain the complex detail of it in truth. I let out a breathless laugh though, a thought occurring to me when I felt a cool bite of metal and plastic on my leg. “Well, as long as you don’t get arrested for busting out of house arrest.” I cracked open my eyes to give him a smile.

“Shut up, I'll be fine,” he muttered. His hands held me closely, tightly, possessively to him. “You don’t get to take it back. I get to take care of you now. To make sure you’re safe. You’re gonna live with me, sweet girl.”

“Okay, Rafe,” I agreed softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek gently. He leaned into the touch and I smiled. “I will.” I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, laying my forehead against his.

“I love you, baby,” he murmured, so quiet I could barely hear it.

“I love you too,” I replied, just as quiet, just as simple.

He smiled at that, the sight making his eyes go warm and sweet. “Alright, then, gorgeous. Let’s get you cleaned up and get the fuck out of here,” he said. His smile morphed into a cheesy sort of grin—the kind I rarely got to see. “Let’s go home.”

For once, I couldn’t disagree. And I couldn’t help but echo the cheesy smile. “Okay, then, Romeo,” I teased. “Let’s go home.”

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stevesbipanic · 1 year

Text

Steve's only 25 when it all catches up to him.

It starts off small, things people wouldn't even be able to tell is an early sign of something wrong. Misplacing keys, forgetting which day he has his shifts, what time he's supposed to get Robin. Robin notices though.

Robin knows Steve always keeps his keys on the hook next to Eddie's by the front door, that's where he always finds them, he's not misplacing the keys, he's forgetting the hook exists.

Robin knows Steve has the same shifts every week, they never change because they line up with Eddie's at the record store nearby. Robin knows Steve isn't forgetting what time he's supposed to pick Robin up, he's forgetting Robin moved away a few months ago after she graduated college.

Robin keeps noticing when the kids start calling her because the little things are becoming big things.

Robin notices when Dustin calls and tells her Steve thought he and Suzie were back together, "Like how crazy is that we broke up two years ago, I don't think I've even mentioned her lately."

Robin notices when Lucas calls and tells her Steve asked when his next game was, "The season ended months ago, he came to the finals."

Robin notices when Max calls and whispers softly, "He asked to take me to the skatepark, Robin, I told him I had to help mum. He's forgotten I'm blind Robin."

Robin wished she'd noticed sooner, maybe years ago when Steve was getting knocked around a lot. She wished she'd screamed in the face of those Russians to take her instead. She wished a lot of things when Eddie called her.

"He's in hospital, Birdie, he collapsed at work."

Robin is back in Chicago for the first time since she graduated. She wished she'd visited sooner.

"Do you think the feds are gonna let me go soon, Robbie? I mean it usually doesn't take this long for them to bring me the NDAs."

Robin hopes Steve doesn't notice her eyes going glossy as she runs her fingers through his hair, "Don't worry Stevie, I'm sure they'll be in soon, Dusty is probs just arguing over something in his."

"At least he isn't having to explain he raised a demodog. Did I ever tell you about that Robbie?"

Robin smiles softly, "Yeah but tell me again, don't want to forget any of it."

Eddie gives Robin the gist of what the doctors said, Eddie didn't understand much, a lot of technical words and shit. Too many concussions, more than they knew about most likely. They say it'll probably get worse with no timeframe of how quickly it'll happen, there might be good days, there will be a lot of bad days.

The first bad day comes a week later. Steve barely remembers Eddie, trapped in a time when Eddie was just the kids DM. Eddie sobs in the corridor in Robin's arms. The next day it's like nothing happened and Steve gets discharged. They tell Steve, this time Eddie is the one to comfort him.

"I don't want to forget you Eds."

"It's okay if you do, sweetheart, I'll still be here."

It's Robins idea to start writing everything down. Eddie, Nancy and the kids all help. Filling journals upon journals of stories and pictures of Steve's life to help on the bad days. Steve has to quit his job, Robin moves back to Chicago, they make it work.

On bad days depending on how far back Steve is Dustin or Robin or Eddie will read through the books with him, filling in the gaps of what he needs. On the worst days, Eddie leaves the pile of journals on the bed with a note and waits downstairs to see if Steve will join him later.

They make it work for a few years. Steve celebrates his 30th birthday with perfect clarity. He writes himself an entry in the journal next to a big group picture with Steve and Eddie's matching rings showing.

That July, over a decade since Starcourt, Steve is in hospital again. He'd collapsed at breakfast. Eddie had thought it was going to be one of their good days, Steve had woken up fine, all his memories in tact if a little fuzzy. He'd made them coffee and giggled at Eddie's singing while he made them eggs and just like that it all came crashing down.

Steve's brain is shutting down. They don't know if he'll make it past Christmas. There's more bad days after that. More days with books left on the bed. Most days Steve doesn't even come downstairs. On the good days, Eddie always calls off work. He'd rather be fired than miss a single second of Steve smiling at him like he does, so full of love.

They have Christmas, the whole family comes, they have to bring every chair from around the house and squish in around the table just to fit but it's perfect. Steve sits between Robin and Eddie, face bright and full of love and life. Everyone gives him the tightest hug as the night closes, all lingering, afraid of letting go.

"I love you, dingus."

"I love you too, Robbie."

Later, upstairs in their room, Steve and Eddie go through all the journals, laughing softly at each little note the kids have left. Steve writes his little journal entry, a tradition of good days, and curls into Eddie's arm whispering soft loving words to each other before falling asleep.

Steve never wakes up.

The funeral happens shortly after, all of the family is still in town. Robin holds Eddie afterwards as they go through the journals together. When they get to the last page, they struggle not to smudge the ink with their tears.

Dear Eds and Robbie,

I don't know how many more good days I'm going to get so I'm leaving this here for you now. I love you both so much, you're equally my soulmates and I want you two to look after each other while I'm gone.

Robs, go travelling with Nancy, ok? Thank you for looking after me all these years but it's time for you to go look after yourself. Go see the world for me, tell me all about it wherever I am when you get back.

Eddie, I'm sorry we didn't get as much time as we hoped, I hope you know that even just a day with you has been worth a lifetime with anyone else. Go follow your dreams, write music, perform, show the world how amazing I know you are. I give you full permission to fall in love with whoever you meet along the way, I don't want either of you guys to be alone.

Thank you for giving me a life worth remembering.

Your Dingus,

Stevie

#omfg i sobbed writing this im sorry #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #st4 #steddie #stobin #robin buckely #angst #poor steve #concussions #memory loss #fuck i actually cried so much omfg #ficlet #major character death #tw major character death #tw death

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wongyuuu · 3 months

Text

midnight rain | lsm

pairing: seokmin x f!reader genre: angst, smut, a little bit of fluff word count: 17k summary: after seven years away, you finally return home. meeting seokmin again wasn't in your plans, but life wasn't willing to let you have it your way. warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, oral, swearing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this) a/n: this is part of 1k event, it was requested the dearest @ressonancee. but also, it's part of svt ans songs from midnights. i just wrote two in one and something that was supposed to be short became this monster. i hope i wrote seokmin in a way you'll like it. prompt: “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do." Seokmin ➝ Midnight Rain He was sunshine, I was midnight rain ↳ it was the oldest story in the world, the bright boy fell for the grumpy girl.

Letter #1

Seokmin,

You know, I've always been very proud of not being a very attached person. I've always been proud that I can put myself first and second, because I know I need to do it, because I know that no one else will do it for me. So, when I came here and dropped everything I had, I thought it would be a lot easier than it actually is.

When I turn around in bed at night, after days of trying to get used to the time zone and weeks to the weather and the people here — which are both bad and for completely different reasons, nothing is like in the movies — I always hope to find you there by my side and being able to snuggle up to you like I always did. I wake up in the morning and make enough coffee for two people and take two mugs out of the cupboard, and only then do I realize I'm alone here. I don't need two mugs and I made too much coffee. Sometimes, in the middle of the day, I find myself typing your number, which I have memorized despite the fact that no one remembers phone numbers, because phones exist for a reason.

You have no idea how much I miss you and what I would do to be able to hear your voice again. I would do anything, I swear I could. But I know I no longer have that right. I know that what I did is unforgivable and although I want your forgiveness, I hope you never forget what I did to you.

You were still good to me on the last day. You took me to the airport, you said goodbye to me, you hugged me tight like you know I like it and you did your best not to shed a tear in front of me.

Every now and then I catch myself thinking that I messed up. I could have done my master's where we graduated, I didn't need to move to the other side of the world and leave the life I knew behind. But at the same time, I accept it. Coming here was my dream, it was always what I dreamed of even when you were by my side as well. And maybe that's why I never told you about the application, about being approved. Maybe I waited until the end, until the very last second to tell you because I knew you were the only one capable of changing my mind.

When I was by your side, I started to dream of a different life, a life that had you at all times and in all aspects. But, as you may have already noticed, I chose my first dream.

I know I won't regret it. I can't afford to regret it. You’ll become who you always wanted to be and I’ll be there to give you a standing ovation. Not there, next to you, but from afar.

“That was Sunday Morning, by Hong Joshua. Ah, whenever I hear this song I remember my college days. I've said this here a few times, and I think I sound like a broken record by this point, but Joshua and I went to the same college and he was always singing this song in the hallways. Any small gathering between friends he would pull out the guitar and sing. So I'm sorry, but you're going to have to listen to this song at least once a week for the next year. Or until he releases the next one.”

Seokmin looked at the monitor to his right as a pre-recorded commercial for the next show started. The comments were going up too quickly, which made reading them an almost impossible mission.

On the other side of the glass, Chan made a sign indicating that the commercial was over. Seokmin looked at his friend as he lowered one finger after another and finally pointed at him. Chan placed a sheet of paper, which was always used, against the glass, which said “last, chat”. Indicating that he still had one more question to answer.

“We have time for one more question” Seokmin said, opening the internal chat he used with the other radio employees and read the question that Chan had sent “I ended a relationship of almost four years a few months ago, but I still can't understand what happened. I haven't even returned his things yet. How do I get in touch saying I want to return it?”

Seokmin swallowed. He knew that Chan hadn't done it on purpose, that he had no way of knowing everything that had happened between him and you, but he hated how much the question resonated in his head. It was a feeling he shared and for him it had been a little worse because you lived together during your last year of college. So when he entered the house and saw all the furniture, the decorations, your clothes still in the closet, it was like entering a time machine. In that 30 square meter space, for a few minutes, you still hadn't left.

He took a deep breath, away from the microphone so the sound wouldn't be picked, and leaned forward.

“It's a difficult question, really. If it's been a few months and he still hasn't picked his things up, it's because he doesn't need them, so I don't think you should bother contacting him. Hmmm”

He bit his lip and rested his elbows on the table, thinking if he should continue talking or if it would be better to stop there. Seokmin always thought it was better not to let personal feelings show on the radio, but he had moments when he couldn't follow his own rules.

“I can tell you from experience that sometimes silence is better. Because if you know the truth, it could hurt you even more. When I was in a similar situation, after a while I simply discarded the person's belongings. At first, it will be difficult, because you’ll see that shirt you gave as a gift, that letter you wrote and remember what it meant, the moment you gave those things to him. But little by little you will achieve it. Don't feel obligated to just move on when you're not ready. People will always tell you that it's about time, that it's been so many weeks or months. You’re the one who knows about your feelings.”

Chan knocked on the glass again, almost desperate because Seokmin's answer had been too long. It wasn't the first time he had gotten lost in what he was saying and maybe had been talking in circles. It always happened that he remembered you when he answered a question.

And in that specific question he was being a hypocrite because he knew that if he opened his closet, deep inside it, he would find at least two boxes full of your things hidden. He rarely went near those boxes, he liked to pretend they didn't exist and most days he managed to achieve that thought. But there were other days…

“So we come to the end of another Cupid's Corner with Minnie. See you again next week. Cupid’s Corner with Minnie: Unveiling Love’s Melody, One Relationship at a Time!”

Seokmin removed his headphones, stood up, and waved at the cameras he knew were pointed at him. He grabbed his phone and the bottle of water he always carried with him. The red light above the door finally went out and Seokmin left the studio.

Immediately, Chan appeared beside him. He had just gone blond, and it strangely suited him.

He knew the youngest was desperate, not that he was doing a good job of hiding it. The disheveled hair, pointing in all directions, also helped a lot.

“You’re going to have a heart attack if you continue like this” Seokmin said laughing.

Chan was the newest employee, handpicked by Seokmin a few months before. Seokmin needed someone to help him organize the broadcasts after his previous assistant quit because she had gotten a job in the field she had studied. Seokmin even talked to her and offered a higher salary that would come out of his own pocket, but nothing seemed to help. Not that he blamed her, in her place he would have done the same thing. But in the position he was in, changes made him uncomfortable so he did what he could to make sure everything stayed the same.

Maybe it was trauma.

“It’s because they yell at me, not you.”

One of the reasons Seokmin chose Chan as his new assistant was his sincerity. In the middle of the interview he “I think there are things in your program that need to change” and started listing things that he thought were dated or ideas that had been used too much and therefore didn't have the same effect on listeners. The others had found him presumptuous as if he wanted to know more than those who worked at the radio. Seokmin disagreed and that's how Chan got the job.

“They yell at you because you’re the new guy, no one yelled at Jiah”

Chan made a sound in the back of his throat, like a scoff.

“That's because everyone was afraid of her” Seokmin rolled his eyes and reached for the folder Chan was carrying “Oh, right. Tomorrow is your lecture for the communication classes, but they said it is possible that students from other courses will also be there, because it’llll be in the auditorium”

Seokmin nodded, reading the guidelines Chan had made. He needed to admit that he was organized and had absolute control over everything he did. He was sure that if he asked about Wonwoo's program, Chan would know how to answer as if he worked directly with him.

“You know how it is, I have fans” Chan pretended to vomit “If you go tomorrow, we’ll go out to dinner later, I’ll pay”

"Deal"

Seokmin always found it strange to be called to give lectures at the college where he studied. He wasn't a teacher and he didn't think he had done enough to be someone who could give advice to someone. In fact, Seokmin was sure he hadn't done anything big. His life, to put it very simply, was flat. At least, almost all of his life.

Seokmin has always been the type of guy who makes plans and follows through on those plans. When he was sixteen he got it into his head that he wanted to work in radio. It wasn't without reasons, of course. He joined the school radio and despite doing very little, because the school director had to know everything that would be done, even the nouns he would use in the sentence, he fell in love with the idea. That's why he decided he should study journalism in college, that way even if his radio career didn't work out, he would still have a profession.

But his dream was to work on a radio, to have his own program. So that's what he did.

He entered college as planned, sunk into student debt, and graduated exactly as he had planned. In his last semester, he got an internship at the biggest radio station in the country. He was on cloud nine. It was as if he had received the green light in life and everything was on the right track.

At least that's what he thought. At least that was what he had forced himself to believe. The internship became a permanent position and one day he just happened to be in the right place at the right time. That's why he never felt prepared to give anyone advice. Despite having decided on the career he wanted to pursue, he knew that he also needed to count on a little luck and help. The only words he could offer were “you work hard, study, make contacts, and throw the rest into luck’s hands”. It wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to hear when he was a student looking forward to the future, so he certainly wouldn't say it to anyone.

However, Chan convinced him that it would be a good idea to give the talk.

“You’re going to tell me how you got here, that’s all. An unknown face who quickly went on air to cover someone for one of the most beloved radio broadcasters in the country. I'm sure if you say that shit fell on your head, they'll like it” Chan had said laughing.

Overall the lecture went very well. Better than expected. He answered the questions as honestly as possible and used his best smile to get rid of the more awkward questions.

Despite the good day, he knew he didn't want to repeat the dose anytime soon.

“They want to know if you would be willing to do one of these a semester” Chan whispered because he knew the answer Seokmin would give, so it was better for the students not to hear.

“No” was all Seokmin said “But I’ll still buy you dinner”

Chan punched the air in celebration, catching the eyes of those around him, but he seemed to care very little.

"I just…"

What Seokmin was about to say, an announcement that he needed to go to the bathroom, died in his throat as he looked straight ahead.

Letter #2

Seokmin,

I thought I would be able to adapt faster here. It was very hard in the beginning with transport, getting around in general was very difficult. So I chose a weekend and went walking around the neighborhood where I live. I don't know how long I'll stay here, but I thought I should check it out. Besides, I can wake up in the middle of the night and decide that I want to eat something that I don't have at home, so it's good to know if there are any stores or markets that open in the middle of the night (in this neighborhood there aren't any, maybe that's why I won’t stay here).

I discovered that going out there, although productive, wasn't such a good idea. Nothing wrong happened, I didn't get hit on or someone was rude to me. Quite the contrary, most people pretended they weren't even seeing me. The problem was that everything made me think about you.

I walked by the store that sold a lot of random old things and decided to go in. You know I love filling the house with trinkets. I didn't find anything there that I liked, but I saw that they were selling camera films. For a moment I forgot everything that had happened and all I could think was, I think Seokmin is running out of film, I need to buy more because he will only realize when he doesn't have any left.

I bought it and brought it to the apartment. I opened the door and called your name. It was only later, when I noticed where I was, that it wasn't our apartment, that I realized what I had done.

Even without meaning to, even when I try not to, I find myself looking for you. Everywhere. I go to a restaurant and think about what you would like to eat, I see a dog on the street and I imagine you bending down to pet it. It's not on purpose, I just can't help it. I try, but it's in vain.

I wonder if it will pass. Will this feeling that I succeeded in my career but ruined my personal life disappear or will I feel like this forever — or at least for a good few years?

yn.

It was as if all the air had been ripped from your lungs and there was no way in the world to get you to breathe.

Somehow, some way, Seokmin was standing in front of you, in the middle of the college hallway.

For a moment it was as if you had been transported back in time, to when you were still 22 years old. In another moment you would have simply run up to him and thrown yourself into his arms as if you hadn't spent the whole night clinging to him, as if you hadn't seen each other before classes, as if you hadn't shared the smallest space in the world on the subway for 20 minutes. And your body seemed to remember all of this, like some kind of muscle memory, because you felt like you were being projected forward. Towards him.

You thought Seokmin would talk to you, you were sure he would. But you saw the way his gaze changed, the way it went from complete surprise to a hard look, completely different from anything you had ever seen from him.

In your memory, Seokmin was always brilliant and was always willing to welcome everyone with open arms, even when he felt more shy. You didn’t understand, that look he gave you was completely different from what you imagined could happen.

When you made the decision to return, you knew that there was a possibility of meeting Seokmin, no matter how small it was. You didn't know if he was still friends with the same people, if he still kept in touch with them. You certainly hadn't kept in touch with anyone - except for the two times you talked to Joshua. The possibility existed, but being realistic you knew it was as big as winning the lottery.

Of all the places you thought you could find Seokmin, college was the last one and maybe that was even why you accepted the job. When you were taking the last tests, the ones that would say whether you would graduate at the end of the semester or not, Seokmin was categorical in saying that he would never set foot inside college again. So you thought it was a place he would never go, but there he was. And in your first week, when you needed everything to go well. Not to show that you were ready and that you could do the job, but to reassure yourself that you had made the right choice in accepting the job.

You didn't have time to decide whether to talk to him or not. Seokmin made the decision for both of you. He continued walking as if you weren't there, talking to the boy next to him, laughing. The only indication that he knew who you were was silent once and one that only you could distinguish.

He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.

Was it possible that only you had felt that way? That just your heart had decided it didn't know how to beat, as if a storm was raging inside your body?

You didn't have time to analyze what had just happened. You just forced yourself to take a deep breath and also keep walking as if those brief seconds weren't enough to make your entire world turn completely upside down.

Seokmin dragged his feet into the room, tripping over the rug at the foot of the bed. A curse came out of his mouth, followed by a burp. When he invited Chan to dinner he had no intention of ending the night drunk, being carried home like someone who had just had his first drink.

It had been years since he had gotten that bad and it was comical that the previous occasion was also connected to you.

The memory of leaving you at the airport, on a flight in the middle of the night, was still vivid in Seokmin's mind. Worse than that memory, was the one of you telling him that you had gotten a place in a master's degree on the other side of the world, 18 hours before leaving the country.

“I need to tell you something” you said as he pulled his coat over his head and patted his pockets, making sure he had grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone. He needed to leave as quickly as possible, he was already late.

Seokmin had plans to ask you to marry him. He had rented a house where you could spend the weekend, where it would be possible to see the stars. He had prepared himself, but he needed to leave right that second so he would have enough time to go to the house, get everything ready and come back to get you. The owner of the house would help him, since Seokmin decided that he wouldn't tell any of his friends because they might just ruin the surprise.

“I'm already late” he said, quickly looking at his watch. "Did something happen?"

He asked, noticing your already somewhat desperate look. He knew that whatever had happened couldn't be good.

To be honest, he had noticed that something was wrong a few weeks before, and for a while, he decided it would be better not to get into it too much. He knew you well enough to know that you would offer the information when you felt ready to do so. But thinking back on everything, he wished he had asked before, he wished he hadn't given you space, he wished he had forced you to talk to him sooner.

“I passed my master’s degree abroad”

Seokmin’s first reaction was to be happy for you. He knew how much you wanted that, that it was your dream. So he did what any boyfriend would do, he hugged you and congratulated you, told you that you had tried so hard and that they would be idiots not to accept you. The feeling was true and his smile was genuine. He was happy for you.

Knowing what he knew, every now and then Seokmin wondered if he would have done anything differently if he knew what the next words would be out of your mouth. He could have made a fuss, he could have begged you to stay, he could have offered to go with you. But at the time he didn't do any of that.

“I’m leaving today, I need to be at the airport at 11 pm”

Seokmin's ears rang deafeningly. It was as if he had been punched and needed to brace himself against something. The sofa was the closest piece of furniture.

He thought he heard it wrong, he wished he was dreaming, but all he had to do was look at you. It was true. It was as if a puzzle was being completed in Seokmin's mind. The way you had suddenly become distant, how every time he entered the room you hurried to change or close whatever you were looking at on the computer. He didn't even know you signed up. He imagined that you must have done some kind of test, some interview and he didn't even know anything about it.

He had no idea.

Had he been a bad boyfriend, someone who was so focused on making the long-awaited proposal that he had ignored everything else? Or had you hidden it so well that he hadn't noticed?

"What? You’re leaving today?"

It was like the world was spinning too fast and he was trying to keep up with what was happening. It was like being on a roller coaster that kept on falling. He remembered well how the little box with the ring he had carefully chosen weighed in his pocket.

“I didn’t even know you had applied for a position” he whispered, almost just to himself “You didn’t tell me”

And it was at that exact moment, when he looked at you, that Seokmin realized that your relationship was over. You avoided looking at him, your hands were buried deep in the pockets of your coat, which was his. He saw your eyes fill with tears, you swallow hard, and remain silent.

It was unlike you, to stay quiet when you had too many things going through your head. He desperately wanted you to talk to him, to tell him what had been going through your head. He just wanted to understand. Did you believe he would somehow stop you from going? If there was one thing he knew about you, it was the fact that you always put your education first. It wasn't a secret and you didn't want it to be. He just didn't expect things to happen that way.

Seokmin sat in front of the closet, on the floor, and with difficulty opened the doors. Deep in the back, behind several shoe boxes, were two old boxes that he hadn't moved in years. Part of him wished the things inside the boxes were ruined, that they had mold and anything else that could ruin its content. But he had been careful, kept everything in order, taken all necessary precautions, and cleaned the closet periodically.

He ignored the first box and pulled the smaller one towards him, placing it on his bent legs. Seokmin wasn't one to revisit those memories, he liked to keep them as far away from him as possible, but on nights like those, it was impossible.

Seokmin knew what he would find and was sure how he would feel, but he still took the lid off the box, but he didn't dare take out any of the items inside it.

He knew he had reached his lowest point when he was holding on to memories he had of you and not focusing on what was actually happening in his life.

Letter #3

Seokmin,

I talked to Joshua today. Talk is a bit too strong of a word. We exchanged a few words on Instagram. He posted a photo and I liked it, he sent me a DM asking if I was ok and how things were going. I lied, of course. He said everything was fine and he was happy. He didn't talk about you and I didn't ask.

It was very hard to contain myself. I want to know how you are. The more selfish part of my brain wants you to be just as bad as I feel. You know that little demon that sits on our shoulder? He assures me you're even worse. And I hate to think that's the case, but at the same time, I'm sure you're not okay. I know you, we dated for four years, we lived together for almost two years

You were always the more emotional one of the two of us. You were never afraid to show your feelings, not for me or anyone else. You always loved so openly, without any fear. I admit that at first, it scared me a little.

I was an 18-year-old girl who came from a family that had no idea how to show affection, so I was always more reserved in that aspect. And there you were with your beautiful, bright smile, with open arms, affectionate with anyone who came along. I thought you were a crazy person who didn't have the slightest notion of the world. It took a while for me to realize that your world was brighter than mine in ways I couldn't understand.

You were always so untethered, free, showing yourself to anyone who had eyes. When I was closed and more reclusive, you were open and expansive. When I was very shy or reserved, you were more charming and brighter than usual. Not even my worst mood, which seemed endless at times, was a problem for you.

One day you just showed up and decided that you would stay by my side, no matter what. Believe me when I say, I tried to push you away. But with each passing day you were further under my skin.

A kiss at a random party turned into a date at every party, parties became meetings at the college library, which led to coffee dates. One day you decided at the end of each date you had to take me back to the dorms and you kissed me for a long time on the side of the building where no one could see — or at least I made myself believe no one did. Then that alone wasn't enough and you were always with your fingers intertwined with mine, or your arm around my waist. And kisses were no longer reserved for empty streets, of course not. You kissed me anywhere, anytime, no matter who was watching.

You were sneaky, Seokmin.

When I realized it, I was in love with you. Your arms were my refuge. You were my safe space. My home.

yn.

You hated that Seokmin’s reaction, or lack thereof, had gotten to you so much. It was like being punched, and then one more, soon the punch became a beating and to finish with a flourish, it was as if a truck had run over you.

You had plans to go out at the weekend, though alone. Everything was so different, the places you knew no longer existed and friends from the past no longer spoke to you. You would have to rediscover the city without anyone's help. Despite your plans, you couldn't bring yourself to leave the house.

When you decided to return, you knew there would be no way to escape Seokmin. He had become successful not only in his career as a broadcaster but also as a celebrity of sorts. You never imagined you would see his face in magazines or on billboards selling fried chicken. You didn't expect that when you turned on the TV you would see his face in different programs.

In fact, you knew all of that was happening, but somehow you managed to convince yourself that you wouldn't have to see any of it. You managed to make yourself believe that you would not be haunted by his images and voice.

When you were away, you always listened to his programs, more than once each one, but it was almost like a relationship between fan and celebrity. You could separate very well what was him and what was you. But being there, in the same country, in the same city, it was much more difficult to make that separation.

Because once you were back, Seokmin was no longer just the radio host with a show about relationships. Far from it. Seokmin was your college sweetheart, the guy whose heart you broke but who, even after seven years, was still in love with.

That was the reality. you were still in love with him. There was no relationship in the world, no man in the world, that would have made you forget about Seokmin. Sometimes it worked, sometimes you managed to forget about him for a few months and that feeling of loss, of emptiness, that had settled deep inside your heart became smaller and smaller. And then it would come back full on as if it had never left.

Maybe that was your curse, your punishment for leaving behind someone you could have spent the rest of your life with. And somehow you knew you would have been happy. Or at least a different kind of happiness.

After spending the weekend holed up inside your apartment, after convincing yourself that you needed to prepare for teaching classes and unpacking the move, she decided that on Tuesday night she would explore the city.

Exploring wasn't the right word. You had discovered that one of your favorite restaurants still existed, it had just changed location. And, despite being on the other side of the city and being completely aware that you would have to pay a fortune for a taxi or risk taking the subway alone almost at closing time, you decided to go anyway.

You needed to feel like one thing hadn't changed, or at least still be recognizable.

You heard your name being called a few minutes after sitting down. You raised your head, recognizing the voice, but couldn't tell who it belonged to. Directly in front of you was a woman, with short hair, in her fifties.

“It’s really you!”

You stood up and a second later you were being hugged. Maybe you had gone there for that reason, knowing that there would be someone there who would recognize you. Or at least you hoped there was. And when you were welcomed with open arms by her owner, Niah, you wanted to cry for the first time in a long time.

“Hi” was all you could offer, your voice weak.

You quickly turned your face away, trying to be discreet as you wiped away your tears. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of someone else. Tears were reserved for dark moments in the silence of your apartment, they weren't meant to be seen by people you didn't even know in a crowded restaurant.

“Look how beautiful you look. You haven't been around for so long. Seokmin told us that you had gone abroad to study, but I thought you would come back sooner.”

You just managed to smile, even though it was embarrassing. It was strange to hear his name coming out of someone else's mouth so easily. For years, his name was just an echo in your own mind, almost as if it were a fantasy of yours.

There were days when you managed to convince yourself of this, that Seokmin was nothing more than a dream.

“Are you just visiting or are you back to stay?”

“I'm staying” you said after a second, when you managed to find your voice again “I got a job here, I have nowhere to run”

Niah laughed and hugged you once again, tighter this time.

"Great, that makes me happy. We always miss you” Niah smiled and ran her fingers down your cheeks, brushing away some tears that were stubborn to fall “What do you want to eat? Today it's on the house. Consider it a welcome gift.”

You took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in your throat and the remaining tears.

"What do you recommend?"

The amazing thing about meeting Niah again was that she still acted exactly the same way. She didn't see you as someone who had simply packed a suitcase of clothes and left the country overnight. To Niah you were still that same person from 7 years ago who ate whatever she put in front of. You and Seokmin were always guinea pigs for all the new recipes.

The food was still wonderful, if anything it had just gotten better.

You had a fork halfway to your mouth when you heard the door open, the sound of the bell indicating the entry of a new customer. You almost instinctively turned to look. You choked on your own saliva when your eyes met Seokmin's.

It was as if you were back in the hallway that day. Your heart simply stopped, and the world fell into suspension. For a moment, it was as if you had been transported to the past. You were almost certain that if you looked at the table you would see books open next to the cutlery; you knew that if you looked at Seokmin for another second or two his face would break into the most beautiful smile, he would wave and call your name.

But your illusion shattered into small pieces as his neutral expression contorted into a frown. With the same foot he entered he turned to leave.

“Seokmin!” you called him, getting up from your chair.

Part of you thought he was going to continue out the door, but he stopped. Half of his body was outside the restaurant, the other inside.

“Hurry up and close that door!” Niah said leaving the kitchen “You’re letting out all the heat”

Even with Niah's voice calling him, Seokmin remained standing at the door. You sat back down, but without taking your eyes off him. He didn't know what he expected of him, but he felt an indescribable relief when Niah pulled him by the sleeve of his coat and forced him to sit in front of you.

“The restaurant is packed, so you will have to share a table” she said as she turned her back.

Seokmin shook his head, clearly against sitting there, staying in the restaurant, but he still took off his coat and hung it on the chair before leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

It was clear he was working out, his shoulders had gotten broader and his arms bigger since you last saw each other. You almost laughed at the pose, remembering all the times you had seen him in a similar situation. But this wasn't the time to laugh when everything else was screaming that he was uncomfortable with the situation, that he didn't want to be there.

It didn't take a genius to know that Seokmin wanted nothing to do with you. His reaction to seeing you in the hallway the week before and the way he was looking at you in that moment were enough answers.

You felt like the walls were closing in around you and there wasn't enough air in the room.

What were you thinking when you called his name? What were you thinking when you silently watched Niah pull him inside? Why were you still sitting there?

A waiter who worked with Niah passed by your table and you called him discreetly, not wanting to attract the attention of the restaurant owner.

“Can you wrap everything to go, please?” you turned to Seokmin “You can have the table. I was already leaving”

It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that.

Seokmin laughed lowly, scornfully, his sideways smile making the hair on your arms stand on end. In general, Seokmin has always been the type of guy who didn’t lose his cool easily, who would always rather let things go than have any kind of confrontation. But when he really got stressed out or nervous, it took a while for him to calm down again.

You had seen that storm in his eyes very few times in the years you spent together. The last one was when he went to the airport to say goodbye to you. That day the storm was just confusion and pain, you knew you had done that to him. But he sat there in the restaurant, in front of you, in silence while the people around him chatted animatedly, completely oblivious to what was happening between the two of you.

"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.

“Ah, nothing” he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture “It’s just like you to do that”

You narrowed your eyes at the same time you felt your cheeks get hot.

"Do what?"

"Runaway"

Letter #4

Seokmin,

It took me almost a year to convince myself that it was okay for me to look at social media. I convinced myself that every woman does this, that every now and then we look at our ex-boyfriend's Instagram, just to find out if his new girlfriend is ugly. I've told you this several times, but every female experience is universal.

I wish you were one of those low profile people, who post a picture every 6 months and it's a cut mango on a pretty plate. I wish you hadn't posted so many pictures. But more than anything, I wish I hadn't spent hours and hours looking at the photos. I wish I hadn't been analyzing every photo of you, I wish I hadn't thought “that's a new mole” and wondered which others had appeared since the last time we saw each other.

I had memorized every mole of yours. On your face, on your arms, on your back. On the worst days, when I missed you in a way that almost made me give up everything and go home, I kept remembering each one of them. I tried to remember the sound of your laugh, your voice, how you stroked my hair until I fell asleep when it wasn't a good day.

I keep wondering if one day this feeling will just go away.

It's been a year since I left. I went out with other guys, and I almost dated one of them, but you're always there in the back of my mind, almost comically because even against my will I can't help but compare them to you. I can't help but think that only you know how I like my coffee, how only you know that if I'm in my worst mood, there's no joke in the world that can make me laugh.

I know it's not fair to them. I gave you the chance to get to know me, I allowed you to get closer. I wanted you to come closer to me. Now I wonder if you're doing this for someone other than me.

I like to imagine that you also compare other women to me, that even now that you're dating I stay there, in the back of your mind, making fun of you.

Unfortunately, she's not ugly, but your smile was brighter when I was next to you.

yn.

To say that Seokmin had spent the rest of the week in an envious mood was an understatement. He was stressed and everyone around him soon noticed the change. He really tried not to let his personal life get in the way of his work. It was something he never struggled with. Work was work, what happened when the lights went out and he left the radio should never cross paths with each other. That week, however, it was impossible.

Meeting you at the restaurant caught him off guard. That day in the college hallway had been difficult, but he managed to just keep walking as if nothing had happened. He liked to pretend like he hadn't gone out with Chan right after and drank like there was no tomorrow, like he hadn't opened the boxes he had kept for years and cried while looking at the photos of the two of you together.

He had gone to the restaurant that day because he needed some form of comfort and didn't want to call any of his friends because he knew he would end up telling them everything that happened and would receive advice and words he would rather not hear. The restaurant was the best idea he had. Or maybe the worst possible one.

Maybe he had done it consciously, because he wanted to see you one more time, and wanted to make sure he hadn't imagined you. It wouldn't have been the first time.

In the first few months after you left, Seokmin got into the habit of visiting places he went with you, or places you liked to go alone. It was probably a form of torture, but he liked to imagine it was a way to forget and overcome the breakup. On several of those days, he believed he saw you. He realistically knew it wasn't you, he clearly remembered seeing you get on the plane and waited until it took off to leave the airport.

The worst thing that could have happened to him was you calling for him. Seokmin couldn't help but wonder if he had always reacted that way to you, if your presence was always so great that before he even saw you he knew you were nearby. That day, as soon as he opened the door, before he even saw you sitting there with your eyes wide open, he knew. He knew you were there.

The last thing he expected from you was you saying his name, as if asking him to sit with you, that Niah, knowing how the relationship had ended, would have made him sit in front of you.

Seokmin noticed your discomfort, the way your spine had become a little straighter, the way your eyes were hard and cautious at the same time. Your reaction made him angry. What right did you have to behave that way, as if you were hurt when all the decisions regarding a relationship both of you were in had been made by you?

You were the one who signed up for a master's degree abroad. It was you who never told him about your decision. It was you who kept everything secret, making him believe that the two of you were on the same page and that despite your different goals, you would be able to pursue them together.

Turns out he was wrong, those dreams were just his and didn't include him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Chan asked for the thousandth time.

For the first time in a long time, Seokmin was having a hard time hiding how he really felt. That polished, carefully carved mask had fallen. It was a completely atypical day and everyone was able to notice his sudden change in mood. Even Chan, who normally did a great job of ignoring all the problems around him and focusing solely on his work, seemed to be walking on eggshells around him.

“It’s really obvious, isn’t it?” Seokmin asked in a low voice and Chan just nodded "And if I pretend it's because of the new segment, will anyone believe it?"

Again, Chan nodded. Since he had started the program, 3 years before, Seokmin would receive calls and speak directly to listeners. Although there were always interactions, those were always done through live chat and email when he received questions or stories from people who were not listening to the program when it was airing.

Seokmin wasn't nervous about the idea, he was actually excited. Chan knew this and knew that whatever the problem was, it was still the same as the day of the lecture. He didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to seem invasive, but he still wanted to make sure Seokmin was okay — or at least, well enough to do the program.

“I think everyone is already thinking that” was a lie and even Seokmin knew it, but he was grateful.

“You may already know this, but today we will start a new segment. We'll call it the heart to heart helpline, at least until we find a better name at least” Seokmin's voice and laugh resonated through the taxi “We'll take your calls and some of you will be able to talk to me and ask your questions live, instead of by chat. Each person will have a maximum of 2 minutes and we will answer 6 calls today”

You had left the house completely willing to avoid anything related to Seokmin. Realistically, you knew you couldn't do anything about the billboards and his face at bus stops, but you could very well avoid his radio show. And for a few weeks you had managed to do just that.

That day at the restaurant had almost been a cathartic moment. Somehow, it was as if something had clicked and fallen into place. The Seokmin you left behind no longer existed. It had been a naive thought to think so. You didn't expect that he would still be exactly the same person, of course not. Seven years had passed and Seokmin, like you, was approaching his thirties. Obviously, many things had changed, but you still expected to see traces of that 22-year-old boy you had known and loved.

You didn't spend more than five minutes with him at that table. And it was much more than enough. He had accused you of running away, of continuing to do this for years. Of course, that could be his view on everything, but it was never your intention. The only problem was that you hadn't been able to tell him those things. You had been so lost and so completely helpless in front of him that you had forgotten that you knew how to speak and form sentences.

You had spent years of your life writing letters to him, letters that he would never read, but that was beside the point. You wrote letters as a way to appease the emptiness you felt in your heart. You never, not for a second, thought you were running away. You never wanted to run away, but Seokmin seemed to believe you did.

In a sudden burst of anger, you took your phone out of your bag and dialed the number Seokmin spoke on the radio. You didn't expect your call to go through. In fact, you didn't even know what you expected.

“Please wait a minute, we will connect your call” a non-robotic voice said as you paid for the taxi.

Seokmin was still chatting animatedly with a listener who didn't have a real question, but who “just wanted to say that I really liked your show and that I’m a fan.” It was impossible not to roll your eyes. If she, and everyone else, knew how much of a complete asshole he could be just because he had the opportunity, they would never want to see his face again.

Or maybe they would team up against you in favor of the immaculate Seokmin. God knew how easily a man could turn public opinion in his favor with a beautiful smile. And God was also a witness that Seokmin's smile was simply wonderful, one that took your breath away, one that made you smile along because it was contagious.

“Welcome to the heart to heart helpline” Seokmin’s voice sounded in your ear “What’s your question?”

You didn't really think that your call would get through to Seokmin, you didn't think the signal would be good enough inside the elevator, but none of that seemed to be a problem.

“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You knew you were going really crazy, but you decided to throw caution out the window and be the crazy person everyone used to believe you were.

“Yes, I’m here” you could have sworn, that even over the phone, you felt Seokmin tense up “It’s a question about an old relationship, we broke up years ago, if that’s okay”

You struggled with your keys, trying to unlock the door as quickly as possible. You needed to get to your computer or tablet, whichever was closer. It was almost a physical necessity to see Seokmin's reaction to your voice, your question.

You always knew how to tell if he was truly calm or if he was masking what he was feeling. You wanted to know if you still had any other sort of effect on him. Whatever it was, it was better than angry disdain.

“Old relationships should stay in the past, don’t you think?” he finally said.

You nodded as you ran into your room. You knew you would find the tablet under your pillow — you were sure that if your mother saw it she would say that your brain would explode due to the radiation from the device. With a few taps, you opened the stream of Seokmin's program.

“I think so. But the problem is that we keep seeing each other. I don’t think it’s something either of us want, but it seems inevitable.”

You turned the sound off, you just wanted to focus on his reactions. Seokmin swallowed hard, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes fixed on the microphone in front of him. To anyone, it just seemed like he was concentrating on the call, on what the person on the other end of the line had to say, but you knew very well that it was to hide his reactions.

"Your question?"

“Well, he called me selfish and said I ran away when we broke up, but that's not exactly what happened. I wanted to talk to him, but I don’t think he wants to listen to me.”

Seokmin took a deep breath and seemed to think about what to say next, his eyes no longer on the microphone, but on the ceiling.

“And why does he think that about you? You probably gave him reasons, don't you think? I don’t think anyone would think that about someone without anything having happened.”

“I always dreamed of studying abroad, so when the opportunity came, I went. I…"

“Did you tell him you were going?” Seokmin clenched his fists on the desk, his fingers gripped the pen in his hand tightly until his knuckles were white. “Did you give him a chance to say something or did you just walk away?”

You were speechless, eyes focused only on Seokmin. The way his hair perfectly framed his face, his sculpted thin nose. He was still exactly like he was seven years ago, just somehow different. He was the same, but he also wasn't.

You hadn't given him the chance to say anything, you had just walked away, but because you believed it was the best thing to do. You would have stayed if he had asked, I would have aborted all of your plans for him,

“Long distance relationships don’t work” you said finally, your voice lower “especially when there’s an ocean separating people”

“I'm going to guess and say that you were together for a while because I don't think anyone would care that much about a quick relationship” his voice became more sober, completely in control of his emotions, the opposite of what you felt, like you were enclosed every second that passed “I agree with you, long-distance relationships don’t work. Different cities are already complicated, I can't imagine what it would be like to be with someone who lives in another country. You didn't give many details, but I believe he had reasons to feel that way, just as you had your reasons for leaving without warning. I think the best thing for both of you is to let it fall into oblivion. It makes no sense for either of you to dwell on these feelings. Maybe your desire to talk exists because you think you've left things open with him, but he may think that what's in the past shouldn't be remembered. Maybe you're just a bad relationship he wants to forget.”

Letter #5

Seokmin

I found out by chance that you now have your own radio show. One day it was an empty slot in the schedule and the next it was your voice. To my joy and delight, it was one of those programs that also had video streaming. I say joy and delight in a very ironic way.

But I'm not lying when I say I'm happy for you. You always said it was your dream and in a way, here we are, achieving our dreams. It would have been better if we could have lived through this together, I think. Maybe if that were the case I wouldn't have this empty feeling inside my chest.

But I discovered a long time ago that I can't keep crying over spilled milk. I left and you moved on with your life. They were conscious choices, I knew what I was doing. I knew that making this choice would have hurt both of us, but I also knew that we could overcome it. It's just taking longer than expected. I honestly thought that by this point, so many years later, we would have been able to live as if the past were just that, the past.

But it's not like that for me or for you.

I may be completely crazy, but your show is about love advice and how to deal with heartbreak. Sometimes, when I hear you talk, I'm sure you've already dealt with all your feelings, after all, you've had other girlfriends. But there are other moments, when you answer a question or when you read one of the pre-written texts when I'm sure that what you said applies directly to what we both had.

I'm going crazy, aren't I?

It's been four years since I left. I already finished my master's degree and started my PhD, exactly as planned. I have a date tonight with a guy who seems genuinely nice, but here I am, writing yet another letter that will never be sent to the guy I was in love with.

What am I still doing?

Seokmin had always believed that for a relationship to truly end there must be no trace of it anywhere. When he told his listeners that they should get rid of items, it was not a lie. He was just terrible at following his own advice. The old story of do as I say, not as I do.

Finally, he decided it was time to take his own advice. With a little pain and resentment added to the mix, of course. At this point, he wondered if he could already be considered a masochist or if he still had a few boxes to tick to get the title.

Getting your address had been easier than expected. All he had to do was ask Niah, who offered the information without any resistance.

“Being thirty didn't make either of you any smarter,” she said as she leaned across the table and wrote the address on the napkin.

“Almost thirty” he felt the need to correct her, but decided he would ignore the hidden message in her words.

Seokmin never stopped going to Niah's restaurant. It was there that he had cried his sorrows over the cheapest drinks possible, he didn't have the money to pay for the good ones, while Joshua tried to console him. He had never seen Niah so stressed and angry. She hadn't said anything, but you could clearly hear the sound of her cutting the vegetables more aggressively than necessary.

Little by little she became calmer about the situation and started talking about you with the same affection as before. Seokmin always thought she had somehow kept in touch with you, or at least found a way to get your number or a way to contact you. At first, he had been angry, but somehow he believed he didn't have that right. It was only after a year that Seokmin decided to ask and the answer he received was “if I still had contact with her, I would have already screamed at her about disappearing without telling anyone”.

Asking Niah for your address was the only option he had. He refused to go to college, where you worked. He didn't know what would happen, whether you would be friendly with each other or the conversation would end in a shouting match just because. Because after years of no contact and considering the way things ended, it was pretty obvious that resentment could resurface — at least Seokmin had resentment up to his neck and knew that not releasing them all at once required almost inhuman self-control.

He looked at the building one more time before getting out of the car. It was one of those without a doorman. Seokmin knew that if he rang and asked to be let in, the probability of being sent to hell was very high. So he pulled up his cap down and covered as much of his face as he could while he balanced the boxes on his arms.

He stood there like a madman for almost twenty minutes until someone finally left the building. Seokmin felt like he was committing a crime when he slipped through the door before it closed. Even though the feeling was strange he made himself believe it was the only option he had and he really didn't have any bad intentions. He just wanted to return your things and, hopefully, arrange that if you ever met again, you’d simply pretend you don't know each other, instead of talking nonsense to each other.

Seokmin took a deep breath once before knocking on the door. He heard footsteps and a second later the door opened.

When you imagined what your Wednesday night would be like, the only option that crossed your mind was to order a pizza and watch a movie — the random option of Netflix seemed like your best friend and the only possible option because you weren't even able to choose what to watch by yourself.

Not even in your wildest daydreams could you have imagined that Seokmin would show up at your door with two boxes in his hand.

You were partially tempted to close the door on his face, but you knew that doing so would only make the whole situation worse. If Seokmin, who clearly didn't have any good feelings about you, was standing there at your door it was because he had something to say. Or more precisely to hand it over to you, considering the boxes in his arms.

Silently you stepped aside so he had enough room to enter. You wanted to slap yourself for the complete war zone that your living room was in. You were still unpacking the moving boxes, not that you had taken much with you. It was too expensive to send things from one country to another, especially furniture. You had only focused on your clothes and books and a few things you wanted to keep, and that alone was more than you were willing to spend. In addition to the boxes, you had all the things you still had to buy, but you still didn't have the mind to do it.

You had so much going through your head that cleaning the apartment was just another task you wanted to avoid. But it was one that could be left for later. In the few minutes that Seokmin spent there, you wished you had tidied it up, that he hadn't seen how that room represented your life at that moment: a complete mess.

"What are you doing here?" you finally asked when you managed to get your vocal cords to work properly.

Seokmin didn't seem to care about the mess but paid attention to everything else around him.

He placed the boxes on the counter and took off his cap, pressing the brims with his fingertips looking for what to say next. He had rehearsed an almost poetic speech in the car, something about being adults and how your relationship had ended a long time ago, so neither of you should have any regrets left. But the moment you opened the door and looked at him it was as if all the words had simply evaporated from his mind, as if he had never learned to speak in the first place.

It had always been that way with you. Sometimes when he looked at you, even when you were still together, he got lost. He was like a man adrift who had finally found solid land. It was as if he heard a click and the world started to move once again.

One of his favorite things, when you were dating and living together, was being able to come home after an exhausting day and see you sitting on the sofa in the living room, your computer on your lap, while you studied, occasionally shouting profanities at the computer. On those days, Seokmin would simply push the computer away and lay his head on your lap.

“Just five minutes” he used to say with his eyes closed.

You’d laugh, fingers immediately running through his hair, as if it was the most natural movement in the world.

“Who do you want me to insult today? You know my vocabulary is very colorful.”

How many times had he slept in that position, without meaning to, and you had to drag him to bed because “it's comfortable for you, but my legs are numb and you have to take a shower, you won't sleep dirty next to me, sir”.

It was impossible not to wonder where it all went wrong.

“I came to return your things” he pointed at the boxes.

You suppressed the urge to bend down and rummage through the boxes. You wanted to know what he had kept, what he considered important enough to keep for so many years. You knew he no longer lived in the apartment you shared. When you were looking for apartments you saw that that one was up for rent. It was necessary to restrain yourself from choosing it. It wasn't a good apartment, at least not at the time — the photos on the website said the property had undergone renovations two years earlier and had no tenants since. It wasn't big, it barely fit one person, but it was what your extremely limited budget could afford at the time. Somehow you and Seokmin turned that small space into a home full of life. Of love.

In the places where you lived, you bought all kinds of trinkets to fill the space, furniture you didn't need and never used, hoping to imitate, for even a second, the feeling you had in that little 35 square meter apartment.

You never quite managed to do that.

“Thank you” you said sincerely “I thought all my things had gone in the trash”

You laughed and Seokmin squeezed the back of his head and pointed at the boxes.

“I sold what I could, I didn't want to put it in storage because I really thought we would never see each other again. The money is in an envelope”

“Why did you keep all this?” the words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself “You should have thrown it away or, since you sold it, you should have spent the money”

Seokmin had asked himself that question several times before, sober or not, and he never had an answer. After a while, he simply stopped questioning and accepted it as something he had to do, to have some kind of sanity. It didn’t. Knowing that those boxes were inside his wardrobe, having to go through them the two times he moved, only brought back memories that he would like to forget.

Ever since you had seen each other again for the first time, memories that Seokmin had struggled to bury came to the surface as if they had just happened. He started to dream about you, dreams that range from memories to things that never actually happened, he started to wonder if it would be okay to talk with someone. His brain always screamed NO, so he was stuck just dreaming.

“I don’t have a good enough reason. It is what it is, I guess,” he said.

The last time Seokmin felt so embarrassed around you was right when you met and even then it only lasted a few minutes. The 18 year old Seokmin was much braver than the 29 year old man in front of him.

That boy, without any guilt or remorse, would have asked every question that could cross his mind. You’d say “your mind is beautiful, it even echoes sometimes”. Seokmin wanted to still have some of that boy's strength. Maybe that was the only way to know what he wanted. He wouldn't ask and he knew you wouldn't offer the information to him without being pressured.

“I think in the end, we both got what we wanted.”

You realized you said the wrong thing when you looked at Seokmin’s hands. A second before he was clutching his cap until his knuckles turned white, the next his long fingers were still. You didn't want to see the expression on his face. You knew what you’d find. You messed up, but couldn’t take back what you said.

“You got what you wanted” Seokmin corrected you, his voice firm, his tone hard.

“You always wanted to have a radio show”

“No, I wanted you. I could adapt to everything else if it meant I would have you.”

You shook your head. You knew it wasn't true. Hell, even Seokmin knew it wasn’t true. The first time you talked, Seokmin mentioned how much he wanted to be a radio host and have his own show, of any kind. I don't have a preference, I know I can give anything my own colors. You felt envious of his certainty, of the way he knew he could do it.

“The show has always been your dream” you tried again, despite knowing it was in vain to argue with him.

“My dream was to have a life by your side. You never, not once, told me that you signed up to study abroad, you never even mentioned it. When it was time to go you just got on a plane and disappeared. You never even gave me the chance to follow you. I could have been a journalist anywhere in the world”

Seokmin hated the direction of that conversation, hated being so exposed in front of you after so many years. In the past, it wasn't a problem. Before he wanted to be exposed in front of you, he wanted to share everything he was, every aspect of himself with you. No more. The problem was that he couldn't just stop. A gate was opened and there was no way to close it.

“So, what? Would we both be living based on our dreams? Because this is a dream, and you know it very well.”

You clung to the top rail of the chair, your head lolling forward in an almost futile attempt to stop him from seeing the tears forming in your eyes. You knew you couldn't hold them.

You weren't the type of person who cried often, you did what you could to avoid it, but when the tears came it was impossible to simply stop them from falling.

“Yeah, maybe I was really dreaming, because I believed that you loved me in the same proportion, but it’s quite obvious that you didn’t”

Seven years of pent-up frustration couldn't just disappear, he should have known. He should have imagined that going there would be a problem, that being in the same space as you without any kind of interference was a mistake. But he was still there and there was no way to escape. It was better to end everything quickly than to keep those feelings for another seven years in the hopes of one day being able to say something.

Seokmin watched as you went to one of the boxes in the corner of the room and opened it forcefully, tearing the cardboard, and causing some of the contents to slide across the floor. He felt his body freeze as a roll of film stopped at his feet.

“So explain to me, why do I buy a roll of film every time I pass by a store?” you put both hands inside the box and took out several rolls of film, of different brands and models. “Explain to me, why have I followed your career all this time and never missed a damn show in the last 3 years? Why would I wake up in the middle of the night to watch the broadcast and then listen to the show again while going to work because I just wanted to hear your voice?”

You walked to another box, but you opened this one a little more carefully as if wanting to protect the contents.

“Why did I spend 7 years writing letters that would never be read to a guy I never loved?”

You threw several envelopes at Seokmin’s chest. Your face and body shook out of anger or another feeling he couldn't quite tell.

Seokmin bent down to pick up one of the envelopes from the floor. His name was written in your careful handwriting. He didn't need to look at all the other ones to know that they were also addressed to him. He didn't know how many letters were scattered on the floor, or if there were any left in the box. The only thing he was sure of was that he had no idea how to proceed.

“If that doesn’t say I loved you, if that doesn’t say I still love you, I don’t know what the fuck does.”

Seokmin saw the first tear run down your face and fell silent. He knew he should turn his back, he knew he should walk away, just like you did seven years before. Instead, he took four steps in your direction, his eyes never left your heaving chest and the tears that ran freely over your cheeks.

At that moment he knew that he only had two options: he could turn around and leave, he gave you back your things that alone made his plan a success; or he could kiss you like he had been wanting to since the moment he saw you again.

To hell with his plan.

Seokmin held your face in his hands and pulled you to him, crashing his lips on yours. It was an all too new feeling but also familiar, almost like coming to a remodeled home. It was him and it was you, if only it was just that simple.

You sighed into him, your arms wrapping around his slim waist while your hand balled a fist full of his shirt. There were so many moments where you wished you could be right in that spot, again in his arms. Dreams and daydreams, wishful thinking, whatever you could call it. Thoughts of Seokmin had always been a constant in your mind. It was impossible not to compare other people you went out with to him.

Your longest relationship had been one of almost a full year. Although the beginning had been good and easy, with you somehow managing to avoid any and all Seokmin related dreams and thoughts, it turned sour the second he crossed your mind.

“Seokmin, I…”

He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes so intense that it was difficult to keep looking at him.

“Let’s not overthink it, okay?” was all he said.

You held his face for a couple, searching for something in his features, anything at all, that could indicate that the moment wasn’t for that. But all you saw in him was the same emotions you felt, the same need and desire.

You pulled Seokmin to you again, this time hungrier, your chest pressed to his. Your mind was loud telling you all the reasons why you shouldn’t be doing that, why having him so close to you was truly the most dangerous situation you could possibly put yourself in. But all of those voices, all of those words and thoughts were silenced the moment he kissed you again.

His lips were hungry, demanding all of you. And it was so easy to just give in to him, to his hands roaming on your body, down your back until he reached your ass. He gave it a light squeeze and ran his hand back up again, this time under your shirt. You moaned softly at the contact of his skin on yours, as he kissed your neck, bitting on the exact same spot he found years before.

He smiled over your skin.

“At least this hasn’t changed”

It was all too much but not nearly enough. Just having him that close to you was dizzying enough but him touching you and enjoying the fact that you were just as weak for him at twenty nine made you never want to let go of him again.

“Where’s your room?”

You took Seokmin by the hand, guiding him through the narrow corridor.

Your room was barely a room to begin with. You had no furniture except for the mattress lying on the floor, your clothes were either on the suitcase or on the chair on the side.

“This is unlike you” Seokmin said, his chest pressed to your back while he nibbled on the skin of your neck.

“I… hm… I” you sturred a little when he bit into a particularly sensitive spot, making him chuckle “I’m waiting on delivery”

Seokmin turned you around in his arms while lightly pushing you down on the mattress. His eyes never left yours as he ran his hand under your shirt, moving the fabric up until your chest was exposed.

It had been so long since you had been with anyone, it was almost like a reflex to want to pull your shirt back down. Since him, it had been hard to just let yourself be exposed to someone like that. You had become awfully aware of your body and things you never cared for or paid attention to before suddenly became worries. You didn't like that insecure version of yourself but when Seokmin cupped your breast in his hand his touch was almost solemn.

It was probably the worst timing in the world when you felt tears burn on the back of your eyes. You pulled his face to yours again, trying to hide your tears from him once again.

Suddenly, his touch was tender when he pushed a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingers careful.

Seokmin moved down on your body. When you saw his fingers on the waistband of shorts you lifted your hips off of the mattress to help him move the fabric down quicker.

He kissed your hips and inner thigh. You moaned in anticipation, your hand taking a fist full of his soft hair. When his lips finally found your clit it was like fireworks erupted behind your closed eyelids.

Seokmin was impossibly hard in his pants, embarrassingly so like he was a teenager having his first time.

He never thought that he would have you in his arms again and yet there you were in front of him, no reservations. Just for him. And for a moment it was like his brain was in short circuit, the small electric waves running all over his body, down to his toes.

He licked a path from your cunt to your clit. He went down on you almost in desperation, his nose brushing on your clit every now and then.

"Seokmin..." his name was barely a whisper in your lips, but it was also a chant.

Your orgasm hits you quickly, leaving you short of air and with shaky legs. You were spiraling in the most enticing way possible. It didn't stop Seokmin though as he kept sucking you frantically.

You tugged on his hair, pulling him up and to you again.

I love you, the words almost fell out of your lips. It would have been so easy to just say them, to be open about your feelings just this once.

Deep down you knew that that moment would be a one time kind of thing. It was just the kind of moment people sometimes needed to just completely let go of everything. Or in this case, nothing. It was to let go of seven years of complete nothingness and silence.

You opened the button of his jeans and pushed it down, his boxers following along. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him a couple of times. Realization suddenly came over you. You never expected Seokmin to show up to your place, much less that it would lead to that moment, and there wasn't anyone else in your life, so you weren't ready for it.

"I don't have a condom" you said breathlessly.

Seokmin looked lost for a second, his brain going to his wallet, questioning whether or not he had one in him.

"I can pull out," he said "if that's okay"

All you did was nod and Seokmin aligned himself with your hole. He pushed in slowly, savoring each moment when your pussy pulled him in until there was no space between the two of you.

Seokmin kissed you again to give himself time to adjust to you squeezing him. You held his face close to yours, in your eyes a mix of emotions he didn't want to understand. Not in that moment at least.

"I don't want anyone else," you said looking into his eyes, your thumb running over his bottom lip "No one else can make me feel the way you do"

To hell with care and self-preservation. You let go of those the moment you opened the door for him, the moment you let him into your home, the moment you didn't push him away when he kissed you.

Seokmin fucks you slowly, his pace torturous as you beg and beg for more. He intertwined his fingers with yours and held one of your hands above your head while the other one held your hips in place.

"Seokmin... harder"

And it's like a switch has gone off inside his brain. His once slow pace becomes shallow. The sound of your breaths and his skin slapping against yours were the only ones heard, echoing through the empty room.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, catching you so off guard you scream because it's too much.

You pushed Seokmin away and watched in ecstasy as he wrapped his hand around his cock, his hand working fast as your name left his lips when his release fell on the sheet by your side.

Seokmin dropped his body over yours again, his forehead on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and ran your hand over his hair.

"I love you" you allowed yourself to say, even if it meant nothing to him.

Letter #6

Seokmin,

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm coming home. Or the closest thing I still have to a home. Needless to say, my mother is happy with the news. She's been tormenting me for years, asking me to come back, but since I set foot here I decided I wasn't going back.

I wanted to, but I wouldn't go back.

Every time I thought about going back, the first thing that came into my head was the last image I had of you. Your teary eyes wishing me a safe flight, saying I love you and hope you accomplish everything you want. I regretted it the moment I gave my things away and handed my passport into the hand of the airline girl. I should have come back, I should have given up, but I couldn't. That old story of putting myself first and second, you know how it goes. In this case, my entire top 10 was just different versions of me.

I think I actually felt scared because as time went by, little by little without me realizing it right away, you became a very big part of my life. A part that could change everything. I felt like I depended on you too much. It wasn't fair to you or me.

We were only 22, Seokmin. When we were so young, we thought that life was conquered and today I know that is not the case. Far from it. At 22 I had a degree and worked part-time at a cafe to pay the bills, just like you.

You might think I'm selfish, I'm sure you do based on the things you say on your show. I was selfish and on some level, I don't regret it. I did what I always planned to do, what I always wanted to do. And now I'm coming home.

Part of me wants to run and find you, explain why I made the decisions I did, why I never told you. But I know you won't want to listen to me. I wouldn't want to listen to me either. Why would I listen to someone who left just like that? It really wouldn't make sense.

But another part, this one a little more rational, says that I shouldn't throw salt into the wound after so many years have gone by. I have the scar here, hidden enough for no one to see, but prominent enough for me to remember what I did every single day.

I think that's what I'm going to do. I think that's what I have to do. It wouldn't be fair to just show up in front of you and say “hi, I'm back” after seven years.

You have become a big “what if” for me. What if I had stayed? Would we have stayed together or would our relationship have ended years ago? What if I had told you what I was doing while I was doing it? Would you have asked me to stay? What if I had given the possibility of a long-distance relationship? Would we have worked out or would you start to resent me for leaving and end up hurting each other anyway?

The most absurd thing is that I still like you, I'm still in love with you. I've always heard that distance makes love end or something like that. I haven't seen you in seven years, I don't know what's going on in your life — you're really good at hiding everything being a celebrity now — so it doesn't make any sense that my feelings haven't changed even after all this time. This guy I see online might not be the Seokmin I fell in love with, just like I'm not the same person you remember.

Every time I hear your voice I still feel butterflies in my stomach. I sleep and dream about you. When I wake up I think about you and I wonder if you think about me too. It is not normal. It's not healthy. Life went on and I think it is our obligation to move forward together. We are not a museum to only feed on the past.

Let's continue as we are now, what do you think? We will once again be in the same country, in the same city, but I think it's best for both of us to pretend that nothing will change. It's a huge city, what are the chances of us meeting?

Before you even opened your eyes, you already knew what you would find. Or who you wouldn't find. You knew the space next to you on the mattress would be empty. You had noticed the exact moment Seokmin had gotten up, but you forced yourself to believe that he had just gone to the bathroom. You had kept your eyes closed and had somehow gone back to sleep.

You had been naive to think that the night had changed something, that the way everything seemed like it would be fine was an indication that things had finally gotten back on track. If any, the train simply ended up derailing.

When Seokmin kissed you it was magical, no matter how cliché and teenage it may sound. It was as if the world had fallen into place again, as if you had finally returned home after being away for so long. You couldn't help but wonder if that was why you'd taken the job, in the foolish, unconscious hope that there might be a chance, however slight, of being with him again.

You forced yourself to sit up and pulled the sheet up to cover your naked body. The shirt and shorts you wore the night before were next to you on the floor, but you refused to wear those clothes, opting to rummage through the boxes in the corner of the room looking for clean ones.

You didn't want to go to the living room, didn't want to be mocked by the two boxes that Seokmin had left on the counter, but you couldn't help it. It was as if your feet had a life of their own. When you realized it, you were already sitting on the living room floor with the two boxes in front of you.

You momentarily decided to ignore the smaller black box and pulled the large one closer. The first thing you saw was the envelope Seokmin mentioned the night before. Money, especially the one in the envelope, wasn't something you were going to worry about. You didn't care about it, you didn't lie when you told him that he should have spent it. That money would remain untouched.

There were also a few books you read and made annotations on, two stuffed animals, and all the picture frames you had left behind.

One of the things you regretted the most was not taking with you when you left were photos of you and Seokmin. You had only taken one, which was folded inside your wallet. It was already so old and worn out that it had almost turned to dust, but you would never get it out. It was you and Seokmin at Niah's old restaurant, he was smiling at the camera while you looked at him. It was your favorite picture.

At the bottom of the box was the camera you had given Seokmin as a birthday present a few months before you left. You had saved whatever money you could for months to buy him the camera he wanted, one that he always talked about and whenever you passed by a store you stood outside looking at it, almost as if it would magically appear in his hands.

You understood his reasons for leaving the camera there — or, at least, the reasons you could imagine—but you wished he had kept using it. Not because it was a gift from you, but because it was something he wanted. His smile was so big when you gave it to him, the tip of his nose slightly pointed down because of it.

Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.

The smaller box, for some reason, was scary. It was light and black, and you could hear its contents moving as you held it in your hands. You took one last deep breath and removed the lid.

Inside were photos you had never seen before. Photos of you alone, Seokmin wasn't in any of them. In none of them were you posing or smiling directly at the camera.

Most of them had been taken from a distance, without you noticing. In some you were inside the cafe where you worked, smiling at customers and serving tables, in others you were simply walking down the street, looking through window shops and pointing at something. Seokmin had taken countless photos of you without you even realizing it.

It was strange to see yourself through his eyes, even if it was a version of you that no longer existed. A much younger and more optimistic version. Did I smile that much? you couldn't help but ask. You never saw yourself as particularly optimistic or constantly smiling. You were happy, that's undeniable, but you didn't know that's how people saw you.

There were so many photos, from completely different moments, both from the beginning of your relationship with Seokmin, and from all the phases you went through together.

Behind the pictures were the post-its that you left around the apartment, reminding Seokmin of somewhere you had together or simply saying that you loved him. So many had a simple “I love you” written on them, others said “have a good day today!”.

You had no idea he had kept them. You always thought that once read, they were discarded, but there they were, intact as if you had just written them.

The very first one you had ever written, when you had just started dating, was also there. At the time, unlike Seokmin who never had a hard time expressing how he felt, it was almost impossible for you to be openly honest. So you wrote it on a post-it and stuck it inside one of his notebooks. He had shown up at the dorm a few hours after you left the library.

“Say it again, but this time looking at me”

You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.

“Your nose is beautiful”

You laughed when Seokmin wrapped his arms around you, squeezing a little, trapping your arms close to your body. His face was very close to yours.

“What you wrote in the note” he said softly, his cheek pressed against yours “Say it again, please”

The truth was that you had loved Seokmin, in a way you didn't believe was possible and maybe that was why you spent the last seven years writing letters to him.

Seokmin never left your mind, not truly. There was always a desire, even if veiled, to return home, to find out how he was, to just say “I know I messed up, I’m sorry”.

It was that desire that made your entire body go cold as you took one last item out of the box. A smaller box that fit in the palm of your hand. You knew what it was before you even opened it and opening it was the worst choice at that moment. Your heart, which was already broken, somehow managed to break even more, into a billion, shiny, new pieces.

Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.

When the first sob echoed through the living room, you didn't try to hold it back, you just accepted the feeling of being absolutely lost and heartbroken.

The weather outside the building seemed to mimic the way you had felt in the last few weeks, torrential rain that had no end in sight. You watched the news hoping for an improvement, hoping that the rain would stop for at least a few hours, but it seemed like a distant dream.

All your students were already gone and there was nothing left for you to do. The handed in assignments were graded and the tests were ready to be applied the following week. You had never hated yourself so much for simply doing your job. You wanted to be, at least for that day, like other teachers who left corrections until the last possible second and left students desperate for their grades.

The hallway was in complete silence, a clear sign that everyone had left already. And you had already waited hours for the rain to stop, until the sky was completely dark, and if anything the rain had only gotten worse.

You sighed and picked up your bag from the chair. You wouldn't risk taking any books, papers, or documents home, the possibility of everything getting ruined was too big. Besides, you needed a rest, at that point it was well deserved.

Ever since you had opened the boxes Seokmin left behind, you had immersed yourself in work in every way possible. You had accepted all of the dean's requests and even offered to teach extra classes whenever there was a missing professor.

And even so, even though you had more work than you wanted, you still found time to look at all of his social media. You still listened to all his programs, even listened to the old ones before going to sleep.

It was almost like a form of elaborate torture done solely and exclusively with you in mind. And worst of all, it was self-inflicted. It was as if your brain liked it, begged for it.

The box with the engagement ring was next to your pseudo bed. It was the last thing you saw before going to sleep and the first thing you saw when you woke up. Instead of spending hours on your phone, you sat there, staring at the small box.

You hadn't dared to open it again. You had never felt so lost as you did that day, looking at that ring.

You wouldn't be a hypocrite to say that you had never imagined your life if you had married Seokmin, but before it was nothing more than a daydream. The ring made that dream an attainable reality. It had been in your hands and you just walked away.

A curse left your lips when you noticed that the umbrella you had used that morning was missing from the umbrella holder next to the door.

“Great, that’s exactly what I needed” you muttered, slamming the door shut behind you.

You were tired, exhausted to tell the truth. All you wanted was to get home, take a shower, and watch some relationship reality show, to escape the tragedy that was your own love life.

You closed your eyes and sighed as you reached the entrance. The next bus stop or subway station was at least a 15 minute walk away. That was a problem that existed when you went to school there, everything was far away. One would think that they would do something to improve that, but one would be wrong.

You thought about taking shelter in the nearest coffee shop, but you knew it was almost closing time. You wouldn't be the person who forces employees to stay late, not when you had worked at that exact coffee shop years ago.

Even with your heavy coat covering most of your body, the rain was cold on your back and it was hard to see anything ahead, even if it was just a few steps away. Even the sound of cars was muffled by the rain.

“yn?” a car was on your left, and it was moving at the same speed as you. The face of whoever was behind the wheel was blurred by the rain, but you would have recognized that voice anywhere in the world.

“Let me give you a ride”

You shook your head. The last thing you should do was get in the car with him. It was too dangerous, you were sure that if you looked at him for more than a second you’d start crying. Just by hearing his voice your eyes were burning and a lump was forming in your throat.

“It’s fine, the bus stop is right there”

“There was an accident back there, the bus won’t be here anytime soon”

You grumbled. Of course, there was an accident, of course, there wouldn't be a bus and with your luck, the subway would probably be closed too.

"If your car went through the accident, a taxi will too”

You quickened your pace, not because of the rain, but because you wanted to get away from him. You needed to get away from him.

“Jesus, yn, just get in the car. You’re going to get sick”

You pretended you didn't hear what he said and kept walking, face down – trying to escape both the rain and him. The first tear fell from your eyes. For the first time in days, you were grateful for the rain, because you could pretend it was just water and not a visual representation of your broken heart on your cheeks.

Seokmin stopped the car right there, in the middle of the street. He didn't care if someone was standing behind him honking like crazy — something that was bound to happen.

When he left your apartment that day he felt like he was 22 again, but this time he was the one leaving.

Hearing that you loved him was everything he had wanted, but the timing was strangely right and wrong, both at the same time.

Both of you screamed, shouted, and said what you wanted to say — or at least part of what you wanted to say. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, at the same time a new one was placed on it.

After you fell asleep in his arms, the only thing Seokmin could think about were the letters scattered across the living room floor. There were so many. He couldn't believe you had spent all those years writing letters to him.

He needed to read them all. He would have done it in the living room, but he didn't know what awaited him, so he collected them all from the floor and a few more that had been left in the box and left.

He read the first one in the car, he couldn't wait until he got home.

Seokmin cried right there, the same way he cried when you left. Inconsolable. His heart broke and healed in equal measure with every word of yours he read.

Seokmin always believed that you left like that, without a single word, because you didn't like him that much, because you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Not that he thought the entire relationship had been a lie, but he thought that somehow the love had ended. It happened to everyone, the probability of it happening to him was also high.

The truth could not be different. There wasn't a letter in which you didn't say you loved him, not always in those words, but he knew you well enough to know that was what you said.

After reading all the letters, Seokmin called Joshua. He cried on the phone with his friend and then once again when he showed up at his place with bad beer and takeout food. “Since we’re going to talk about our college days, I think we should do the same thing we did back then” was all he said.

Seokmin was on his way to you when he saw you walking without an umbrella. He wanted to talk to you, to know if even after so long you still wanted to try with him one more time. It was better to try than to always wonder what could have been.

“I read your letters!” he shouted louder than the rain.

His words were enough to make you stop walking, but you still didn't turn to face him. It was too hard to breathe. Your chest rose and fell irregularly each time you tried to pull the air in.

You knew Seokmin had taken the letters. Part of you knew he would read them, but the last thing you expected was for him to want to talk about them.

“I know” you said when he approached “I saw they were gone, and you were the only person who came by”

“Do you know why I accepted to host a love advice show? Besides it being something I've always wanted, of course” he didn't give you time to answer “Because a part of me wanted you to listen, to know that I was okay, even if it was a lie. I thought that if I talked about it on a show that had used the nickname you gave me, you’d regret it. I thought that I should make you regret it because it was the only way I could still think about you without looking like a fool after so long. I thought you didn’t care, that you had left because you didn’t like me anymore, so making you regret your decision was the only option I had”

You shook your head. It wasn't true, not by a long shot.

“I'm sorry” you said softly “I should have told you what I was doing, that I had applied for the and got in. I thought it was my only option. It was so stupid. I was so stupid”

Seokmin laughed a little, fingers running under your eyes. A second later he pressed his lips over yours.

“I know, I read your letters”

Seokmin,

It's been a good few years since I wrote you a letter. After a while, I didn't think I needed it anymore because I started saying everything I wanted, everything I felt, looking at you. Of course, this new arrangement has its demerits, as the paper and pen don't look at me like a lost puppy. But paper and pen don't kiss me either, so it has its bonus.

I thought when I came home four years ago, I would never see you again. I thought you would just be the guy who has a radio show that I would listen to every now and then. I didn't expect to see you my first week back and again and, well, again.

As you probably know, I've never been a big fan of rainy days. I always preferred sunny days because those were the days I woke up ready to face the world. I felt better overall. But also because they reminded me of you. You know, when the sun appears after gray days? For me, you were always like that. Grand and brilliant.

But after that day, I started to like rainy days too because they started to be full of the two of us. Rain was no longer synonymous of an unproductive day, but rather of the memory of our fresh start.

You know this, we've talked about it a few times, but I spent a few months waiting for it to sink in. Sort of expecting that one day I would wake up and it would all be a dream. It was hard for both of us, I know. It was seven years of hurt and resentment and we had to navigate this uncertain sea without a map. Nobody teaches you how to do this, believe me, I looked. I found countless books on how to start dating, how to save a relationship, and how to get over a relationship. The problem is that none of them teach you how to rekindle a relationship after seven years apart, but during those seven years one of the parties wrote letters and the other had a program just to mourn the sorrows of the relationship.

I've read several, so you can trust what I say on this.

It really wasn't easy, but I think we came out better, stronger, in some way.

I love you and I’ll tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Our forever begins today, in a little while. So stop crying, put ice on your eyes to help the swelling go down, and go to the aisle because I miss you already.

I love you.

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cherry-leclerc · 3 months

Text

back to you ☆ cs55

genre: fluff, oldmoney!reader, strangers to lovers

word count: 3.1k

Fixated from the moment he first saw you, Carlos stays missing someone whom he never even properly met. But that all seems to change one night when you unexpectedly show up to a business dinner.

req!... i'm such a liar lmaooo (iykyk). hope you enjoy, my lil anons :) hope this heals some of the heartbreak we all endured today !!(*bashes head against keyboard*)

It almost seemed like you had something up your sleeve, a tactic to retrieve all of his attention away from the camera shoved right in front of him - media duties.

“Hello guys, just wanted to come on here to say that I think we gave it all we could during today’s race but there is definitely always room for improvement…” Blah, blah, blah.

He can’t quite figure out what he’s saying because his brown eyes are attached to the pretty girl walking right in front of him. Not behind him, trying to catch up. Not besides him, begging for a photo. Nope, right in front of him as if you could care less that you have one of the most popular drivers to ever exist almost chasing after you.

He could hear you mumbling about God knows what to the girl walking besides you. The Spaniard feels like a total creep when it comes to him becoming more alert to possibly catch your name. As you were saying? The media team manager stares back expectantly once Carlos blanks out. Though it wasn’t that unusual.

The 29 year old flickers his gaze back to the camera and then back to where you were, only except, you’re gone. Out of sight and his heart stops for a nanosecond.

“Onto the next week. Vamos.”

“So then, you have your upcoming shoot for the new fireproofs, testing, stimulator - if we have time, interview at…”

Carlos tunes out as he blinks at the never ending list as if it were just another Monday. Charles nods attentively, though he also looks far too uninterested. They were exhausted.

“And dinner tonight to meet our new sponsors.”

“Another one?” Charles asks, a slight crack in voice as he tries to pretend he wasn’t at all annoyed. “We just had one last night.”

Maria musters up a stern look. “Yes, again. They’re a lovely family, so we want to impress them with two well-behaved drivers.” The Ferrari boys swallow their laughter as they nod their heads. Got it.

It takes all of Carlos’ remaining willpower to get ready for dinner that night. On the way to the small Italian restaurant, he second guesses even showing up. He could fake a fever. A sore throat. Shaking his head, he curses as he steps out of his custom Ferrari.

“Oh good, I thought it was just going to be me,” Charles jokes as soon as he spots the Spaniard. Carlos chuckles before greeting the team. About 10 minutes go by before the Monegasque grows impatient as a child. I could have finished watching my movie.

“Shut up,” Fred murmurs before abruptly standing up from his seat. “Ah! È così bello rivedere finalmente te e la tua famiglia!” Choking on his champagne, Charles scrunches his nose before flying up and introducing himself. Carlos bites back a smile as he follows his lead.

And there he sees you, standing elegantly with a silk dress that looks as soft as your skin. You’re smiling sweetly at everyone, stepping in to not just shake their hands, but also go in for a small hug. Your mother and father repeat the same action, though they later focus all of their attention on Fred and Maria.

The Monegasque kicks his teammate’s shin. Carlos winces as he shoots fiery daggers. “We hit the jackpot.”

“What?”

Charles' shoulders drop theatrically. “Are you kidding me? Are we looking at the same girl right now or are you just blind?”

But he did see you, and he never quite forgot about you since that day. He could feel the tips of his ear burn bright red as you made your way over to him and his teammate. Charles, so nice to meet you, the green eyed boy beams before going in for a hug. You smile from ear to ear.

“Nice to meet you, too! I must admit; I’m a little starstruck right now.” Charles blushes fast as he stutters his way around such a compliment, even if he’s received thousands of the same one before. “Ah, this is Carlos.”

“Hello,” he feels himself saying. “Carlos, nice to meet you.” As soon as you look up at him, his breath hitches and fears you might feel his sweaty palms flourishing against your soft ones. And if you do, you choose to ignore it as you share a small smile, the kind you share when you see someone after 15 years.

The kind that seems forced.

“Ditto.”

With one last glance, you excuse yourself before making your way over to where your parents and Fred chatter about upcoming plans. Carlos blinks. “Wow. No hug,” Charles points out. “That’s weird. She was basically giving them out for free.”

“Be quiet.”

The remainder of the night you kept to yourself, occasionally inputting your own opinion with a polite smile drawn onto your fruit punch lips. Very well mannered, Fred would approve as you would bow your head with shyness. Carlos quirked a brow of curiosity.

He wondered what he might’ve done wrong. Had he been too forward? Cold? Often, his parents would claim he could be like that sometimes, so maybe? He wasn’t clinging onto the fact that he was the only one who didn’t receive a warm greeting from you, but he was left with questions.

“E tu, tesoro?”

“What about me?” you repeat, hair fanning along your face like a shiny curtain. Maria chuckles. How do you feel about being a part of this new chapter? You think about it for a second before settling with the safest answer. “Very proud, there’s nothing better than tying links with such a superior team.” Fred roars with genuine laughter as he pats your father’s shoulder. Smart girl.

“Why fine jewelry?”

“Pardon?”

The inquiry was directed towards your parents - who would clearly have the answer - but his eyes were trained on you, leaving you to fend for yourself. Lips part slowly as you connect with Carlos’ intense attention. “I’m curious, that’s all. I’m delighted we have you as our sponsors, but I was just wondering what made you dive into the business? Must be hard.”

Squinting your eyes, you click your tongue. It’s in our blood, your father’s voice cuts your train of thought. It’s what we do, what we love. But his warm gaze sticks to you like hot glue. You clear your throat before returning to your wide smile.

“I think it’s safe to say that diamonds are beautiful. They are scarily so crystal clear that for a moment one might search for a trace of color. And then they do come in other colors, so it’s really no problem,” you say, soft chuckles circling the table. “But I believe it’s also safe to say that we don’t often think about how they got here, shining around many ring fingers.” Your mother approves as she shows her mind-blowing diamond cut.

“Miners are the answer. They work hard - get their hands dirty - because they know that while it may not be easy to find such precious things…” His eyes roam your lips before dancing back up to your orbs. “It’s very well worth it.” Taking a sip from your glass of wine, you raise a brow. “That’s why.”

“It doesn’t even feel that tough to wear these pieces,” Charles squeaks as he slips on a white gold bracelet around his wrist. “They’re breathtaking.”

Clapping, you squeal at his words. For a moment, Carlos thinks about punching his teammate for getting to see your good side. They’re great, thank you again. You just tip your head towards him to confirm you heard, and slide away. Carlos sighs.

“This is ridiculous. She can’t even look at me.” The Spaniard bites his cheek. “Do you think she hates me?”

“For doing what?” Charles asks, face pinched with confusion. Carlos huffs, arms flying up.

“I have no idea!”

“Well…I don’t think so, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”

“No.” He groans. “Can you picture how awkward that would be? There’s no way.”

“Suit yourself.”

Pouting, the brown eyed boy zigzags his way into the studio, mentally preparing himself for hours of blinding lights. “Buongiorno, Carlos!” Spotting your father with his arms wrapped around his wife, he walks over with a tired smile. How are you guys? “We’re fine, son, thank you for asking. Tell me, are you excited for this weekend?” He instantly stands up straighter.

“I am. The Tifosi are always great to be around. Gets hectic, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I can imagine. My wife and daughter are always amped up when it’s finally Monza’s turn.” He hums, almost as if he’s reminiscing. “Tell you, my baby would beg for us to take her to cheer on her favorite drivers. It’s kind of a full circle moment so don’t mind if my wife gets emotional.”

“Stop,” your mother sniffles as she shares a grimace. Told you, your father mouths. Carlos laughs.

“I completely get it, it must mean a lot to all three of you. Maybe that’s what makes this partnership work all the more.” Your fathers winks, large fingers wagging over at the Spaniard. Working over time. I respect it.

“I see why my daughter likes you.”

Carlos halts. “Sorry?”

The older man pants, seeming comedically defeated. “Are you kidding me? She adores you! You've been her favorite driver since you joined Formula 1.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Her love towards the sport had a huge impact on us to join as sponsors, but to be fair, we probably still would have done it. Like I said, it holds a special place in our hearts.”

“Buongiorno,” your soft voice echoes, skipping happily to greet the Ferrari team. Everyone’s energy quickly picks up as you flow with such easiness, skirt wrapping around your waist, making you seem like the only flower in an empty garden. Talk to you in a bit, you cheer as you make your way up to your parents. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you spot the grumpy brunette. Like always, he can physically see you create a wall around yourself, keeping you from him. He felt like the Beast drooling over the rose inside the glass. “Good morning, Carlos. Logo looks good,” you hum, dark red pedicure pointing at your last name printed onto his fireproof. “Can’t wait to see how it looks on Charles.”

His jaw ticks. “Why don’t I call him then?”

“That would be lovely.”

He’s jealous. Of course he fucking is. He might have found out your whole act is a facade but that didn’t stop him from feeling this way. He could have been your favorite at one point, but what about now? It sure as hell didn’t seem like it.

“She wants to see you.”

The Monegasque furrows his brows. Who? But as soon as he notices his teammates' sour face, he registers the reason for his bad mood. “Stop pouting. You look like you just sucked on a lemon.” Carlos shoots a deadpan expression. “This has gone too far. It’s obviously bothering you.”

“What? You nagging?”

“Okay, ouch.” The green eyed boy takes a small step towards the Spaniard. “You don’t like it that she’s ignoring you because you like her.”

Carlos jumps off the couch. “I do not!” Charles hums.

“Oh shit, good, then I could ask her out.” He beams. “I wouldn’t want things to get weird between us.” Carlos' heart almost jumps out of his chest as he grows nauseous at the thought of you saying yes. He continues. “I’m telling you; I have a good feeling.” The brown eyed boy clenches his jaw. “It’s like this - I could see myself marrying her, having a baby heiress-”

“Okay fine, I like her!” He pants. “She drives me so fucking crazy. Whether she looks my way or not, she makes my head spin. Ever since I saw her at the Canada GP, she’s been imprinted into my brain like a lecture I’ve been told over and over, time and time again. It makes me sick that she seems to almost get sad when she’s around me. The way she can never look at me the way I’ve always looked at her. And I’m…” He looks down at his race boots. “I’m too afraid of ruining something that I don’t even have a chance at.”

The Monegasque pats him on the shoulder, lips stretched out into a teasing smirk. “Now, was it that hard to admit your feelings?”

It was that hard to admit his feelings. He thought about it for the first time since he met you. Confess everything that’s been locked away deep inside of him; claim his feelings like some kind of gold medal. But then he saw you radiating pure perfection and he would turn the other way. You hated him, he’s sure.

“Alright Carlos, push, now push.”

He could taste it - sweet victory that he badly craved. If he played his cards right then he could get second place, which was pretty good in comparison to past results.

The Spaniard tries to not feel too upset about coming in third and waves up at the Tifosi who let out blood curdling screams. Pride rushes through his veins as he walks onto the podium, he didn’t even mind all the attention. Especially the kind you were gifting him with.

The way you smile so big that your perfect teeth shine up at him, eyes crinkling like a love letter. Cheekbones slightly pink from cheering so loud but also from the bright sun. He swore he was on some kind of drug.

Making his way back into the motorhome after all the interviews, he bumps into you and your parents. “Like it?” he asks as he displays his trophy.

“Definitely,” your father beams. “You deserve it, son, enjoy it.” After a few more affirmations, he and your mother walk away. Brown orbs find your own.

“Have fun?” He tries to ease his deep voice, to appear more outgoing, to not scare you away. And yet, you nod, looking down.

“He’s right. You totally deserve it.” And for what seems like the first time, you bless him with your warm stare. “Felicidades, Carlos.” Pink paints his cheeks. You speak Spanish? Your eyes grow wide as you feverishly shake your head. “I-I- I don’t, but I’ve picked up on a few things here and there…”

“From me.” He tilts his head. “You actually pay attention to me.”

You can’t help stutter like a broken record. “Of course-e, I ha-ave ears.” You show them off like a weak justification. “See?” you squeak. Playing with the hem of your dress - that had him swallowing a string of moans the moment you walked into the garage that morning - you slowly started backing away. “I should go now…” You point towards the sliding doors. “See you later?”

But he knew there would be no later. Fuck, this was the most you’ve spoken to him since, well, ever. He wouldn’t let that slip away so easily. Even if his heart got bruised along the way.

“Did I do something for you to hate me?”

Your brows narrow like a little kid. “You think I hate you?”

“It’s okay if you do, I suppose, but I’m just lost as to where that happened? Did I-”

“I don’t hate you,” you softly speak up, eyes shut in disbelief that you’ve made him feel that way. You blink back at him. “I promise you, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Okay, he confirms.

“Why can’t you talk to me then like you do with everybody else? Why can’t you even spare me a passing glance?”

His voice sounds desperate now, he knows it, but he was desperate. Now you were embarrassed that he continues to bring up more and more of your poor behavior - but it was never intentional. You twirl a strand of your hair before releasing it.

“You intimidate me.”

The Spaniard squeezed his fist around the trophy. For a moment, he thought he would dent the steel. Your stomach drops at the sight and he feels guilty for proving you right. He lets out a shaky breath.

“I’m not a bad guy, y’know? I’m sure it may seem like it, but…” He licks his lips. “I’m not.”

Doe eyes flutter like butterfly wings. “I believe you, Carlos.”

“Good. Now, would you please tell me why you always escape when I’m around?” You softly curse as you pinch your hand for a second.

“I wasn’t lying; you do intimidate me. But not in the way you might think.” Like an angel, you make your way closer. “You’re my favorite driver, you know that?” The Spaniard’s brown eyes grow wide. You laugh. “Ever since you-”

“Joined Formula 1.”

Your jaw drops. “My father ratted me out?” Panicking, you pace the room back and forth. You could only look at him for a couple of seconds before planting your stare at anywhere else that isn’t him. “I told him not to say anything! Oh God.” You let out a maniatic chuckle. “I swear it’s just a tiny crush, it’s not even that deep - I’ll get over it!”

Now it’s his turn to geek out. “You have a crush on me?” Crap, you groan, biting down on your nail. He didn’t mention that part, did he? Brown strands of hair shake back and forth as you sigh.

“Forget I said anything, I am so sorry for making things awkward-”

“I’ve seen you before.” What? The 29 year old winces. “At the Canada GP. You were walking with a friend.” Synthia, you whisper to yourself. “I was being filmed for feedback on the race and you were about 5 steps in front of me.” You counted? “I said about - and for months, you were all I could think about. You sort of stuck to me like a nostalgic scent. I don’t know why I felt the need to talk to you, I mean, it’s never happened to me before. I looked away for a second and you were gone.” He shares a lopsided smile. “Then I saw you again.”

“And I blocked you out.” You bite your lip. “Shit, Carlos…I had no idea you felt this way.” He shrugs.

“It’s my fault. I never told you.” Still, you try to reason but he only brushes you off. “It’s not your fault.”

“But it is,” you whimper. “I acted like a complete snob and belittled you.” Your heart breaks at the image. “And you’re telling me it’s been mutual all along?”

“Looks like it. This is good though.” How? The brunette winks as he pulls you in. “Because now we do know and I can take you out sometime?” You quirk a brow.

“It works just like that?”

He hums, comfortable with the two trophies pressed up against him. “Only if you want it to be like that.” You can practically hear your crazy heartbeat with the way he’s looking down at you - as if he’s just discovered a previously nonexisting star. With soft hands pressed onto his suit, your eyes twinkle.

“Just like that, then.”

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loveshotzz · 8 months

Text

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap ten/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs -

Baby, I’m Yours

summary: A sleepless night brings you back to where it all began.

wc: 8k

warnings: 18+ for the softest of smut.

author’s note: I know we still have the epilogue but I can’t believe we’re actually here at the end of their story. Thank you to all of you that spent your summer reading about Steve and his Tough Girl, this has been such a journey for me as a writer with a lot of challenges but I’m so thankful I did it. Truly writing about these two and talking about it with you guys was the highlight of my summer. From the bottom of my heart, thank you 🧡

🌇 <- chapter nine

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

Beginning of August

Steve had been gone for a week and a half and it felt more like a lifetime to you, but it wasn’t for the lack of communication. If Steve wasn’t calling you he was texting you, sending you pictures of his lunch no matter how lame you told him it was. By day three you were sending him a picture of your own with a loud sigh and a roll of your eyes. His enthusiastic response of ‘That looks good baby!!’ had made you squirm in your seat with hot cheeks huffing the word “pathetic” to yourself, but that didn’t stop you from doing it again the next day.

It was FaceTime calls of Peach telling Steve to turn the camera around, always too busy looking at you and telling you how pretty you are to notice his was pointed towards a wall. Or the one time it was pointed at Eddie who sat in front of him making a suggestive ‘cumming’ face to tease him, the camera flipped immediately when he heard you giggle. Steve scolded his cackling friend with an ‘honestly, I hate you’ before taking you to another room, apologizing profusely with blush visible on his cheeks.

It was the small bits of time in between text messages and phone calls that made it drag. The quiet evenings without Bandit’s excited bark from the front yard, the low simmer that’s always in your gut from the possibility of running into him any time you come and go, is gone with the man and his dog. It’s just enough time for seeds of doubt to creep in. The newness, the anxiety of it all.

The bright red numbers on the clock above your stove read 2:13am - three days until Steve gets home and tonight you can’t sleep. Quietly thanking whatever gods there are for your day off tomorrow, well - today.

Your apartment smells like Clorox, lavender, and lemon. The wood floors sparkling just like your kitchen countertops. Cleaning everything you could touch has kept you busy, but it doesn’t make you any more tired than when you’d started. Your intrusive thoughts and daydreams are going a mile a minute:you didn’t get your usual good night call from him. The rational side of you knows that one missed phone call doesn’t mean anything, but the irrational side decided you don’t need to rest.

The full trash bag next to your front door taunts you, just like the promise you made Steve about taking it out late at night months ago. The fact that it’s the last thing left to do makes it that much harder to walk away from. Gnawing at the side of your cheek you decide not to, he’s not even home to catch you.

The moon’s blue glow illuminates your path while the skyline of the city sparkles below it. The tall buildings shimmer in a way that takes attention from the stars in the cloudless night sky. You can feel how the humidity hangs less thick in the air the more August rolls in. The thin material of your tank top does nothing against the light breeze that makes the bottom of your sleep shorts tickle the tops of your thighs. There’s a chill that didn’t exist before and it makes goosebumps dot across your skin.

Your slides scrape along the gravel from your refusal to fully pick your feet up, and it fights with the sounds of the late Friday night in the distance. You hum a made up tune as the streetlight buzzes above, lifting the lid you jump when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

“I thought I told you not to take your trash out in the middle of the night, especially alone, tough girl.” Steve’s voice erupts everything that’s laid dormant inside of you for the past week. Butterflies start to flutter until they’re fighting against your rib cage to get out and your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling before you’ve even turned around.

“Well,” You sigh, dropping your bag in the trash can, “the guy I was supposed to call if I needed anything ditched me for his out of state boyfriend.” Shrugging when you finally let yourself look at him, the view rivals the one that shines bright behind him.

His hair is messy in a way that isn’t purposeful this time, but he looks just as handsome as any other day. The stubble on his jaw is thicker, but not quite like the night he waited at your doorstep, and god, do you want to feel it against your skin. His big arms sit crossed over a broad chest that’s only covered in a gray tank top. The thick patch of hair always half way on display threatens to touch the base of his neck, the bottom of his silver chain disappearing inside of it.

His freckles are darker now, easier to find from all the sun he got while he was gone and you’re jealous of the hands that got to rub sunscreen on them, even if they were his own. The black basketball shorts on his legs stop in the middle of his thighs, it makes you bite at your lip.The greens and golds in his eyes light a match under your skin with the way he stares at you — like he couldn’t possibly look away even if he tried.

“My out of state boyfriend huh?” He grins, tightening his hold on his own bag before his Nike slide covered feet crunch against the gravel towards you. His eyes catch the dainty silver still hanging around your neck, the stone shining in the moonlight, and it makes his heart swell. Tossing his trash in after yours, he meets your gaze down the slope of his nose, arching a brow. “What does that make you then?”

He smells like bergamot and cedar, a lingering hint of the cigar he probably smoked in New York still clinging to his hair. The heat coming off his body makes your fingertips buzz, twitching with the need to reach out and just touch him.

“I dunno, what does that make me, Steve?” It comes out shy, a little above a whisper, a question just for him.

He hums, a low sound that vibrates from deep in his chest while his fingers come up to toy with the stone that dangles just above the dip of your breasts. The tips of them tickling rough against your soft skin.

“What do you want?” His confident demeanor falters when he asks just as quiet, all the miles and days without seeing each other are affecting him too. He doesn’t tell you that’s part of the reason he booked an early flight home on your day off.

“I want you.” You don’t hesitate when you say it, no pauses for even a second to think of what you want to say. Your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, the muscles under your palm dance from your simple touch. He wonders if you can feel his pulse.

“You already have me.” He almost wants to laugh until he still sees the same shared doubt in your eyes. “Haven’t I made that obvious?”

He tugs at your necklace as a reminder, a smile breaking across your face because of it and all he wants to do is kiss you now. Especially when he drops the stone to grab your hand, and after taking just a few steps, you reach up to touch it again — a silent, constant reminder of his confession as you walk towards the wooden gates.

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early?” You pout a little, looking up at him when he stops you both at your backyard.

“I landed a few hours ago,” He chuckles, his hands finding your hips to pull you to his chest, in love with the way you stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck like it’s natural, like it’s second nature to want him close. “I was actually going to surprise you in the morning with breakfast after I picked up Bandit from Nance’s.”

“Oh yeah?” You grin at the thought of Steve showing up at your front door, that messy head of hair shoved into a baseball cap.

He nudges his nose against yours, the spearmint of his toothpaste fanning cool across your cheeks while your fingers curl into the soft hair at the base of his neck. Tilting your chin so your lips just barely touch, you silently beg him to close the gap.

“Yeah,” He breathes, hazel eyes clocking the way your lashes flutter against the top of your cheeks. He almost feels bad for teasing, especially when you give his hair a gentle, coaxing tug. “But someone wanted to risk their lives for the sake of taking out the trash. So, surprise, pretty girl, I’m home.”

His words make your breath catch, and you want to tell him he feels like home more than your real one ever did. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest when his top lip whispers against your still slightly pouted bottom one. You tug at his roots a little harder this time, needier, and you swear a whine tightens at the back of your throat threatening to come out if he doesn’t give you what you want. Please, kiss me.

“Well, good thing you were here to save me.” You giggle against his mouth, and it makes his hands squeeze at your sides a little tighter, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. The tip of your nose pushes against the rough stubble on his cheek, “Besides, I missed you, I wouldn’t have wanted to wait ‘til the morning.”

“God, honey. You have no idea how much I missed you.” His face crumples a little at the thought, almost like he forgot for a second you were right in front of him, but when you somehow pull yourself closer, he doesn’t waste anymore time.

The wood is rough when your back hits the gate at the same time his lips finally crash into yours. A week of longing comes out with a sigh. The metal hinges and lock clank loudly together while he steals the breath from your lungs. He coaxes your mouth open with a swipe from his impatient tongue, groaning when you grant him access. You taste just as sweet as he remembers, and he promises himself he’ll never go a day without it again — not if he can help it.

Your hands get greedy in his hair, bigger handfuls, harsher tugs while your body stays flush against his as he keeps you pinned to the door. It’s all tongue and teeth for a minute, both of you losing yourselves in it for longer than you should. It’s not until a car honks, signaling to any bikers around that it’s popping out of the alley, breaking you two apart.

Chest heaving and lips swollen, all you want is more.

He laughs to himself pressing his forehead against yours with the kind of smile that makes your knees weak. The tip of his nose touches yours; he’s all wild hair and love sick eyes. You don’t want to be without him tonight. Or ever.

“Come sleepover?”

The question comes out before you can stop it, before you can really register what that invitation might mean for both of you. His eyes widen before they search your face for any kind of regret, his tongue wetting his lips when he doesn’t find it. You twist strands of his honey hair between your fingers, nervously waiting for his response.

“We - we don’t have to do anything. I just wanna be with you.” You finally whisper, your nerves getting the best of you. He can’t believe you think he’d actually say no.

“Let me shower and get the airport off of me, and then I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of the night with you baby.” He steals another kiss from your smiling lips, letting you take another one for yourself, groaning at the nip of your teeth on his bottom lip before he finally lets you go.

Opening the gate for you, he grabs your wrist pulling you back for one more, relishing in the giggle it earns him before he whispers that he’ll be back in fifteen minutes.

It feels like your heart is trying to escape through your chest as you try not to check the time on your phone. Strategically placed candles are the only light in your living room and kitchen, while a dimmed bedside lamp in your room gleams a dark orange with your wax melter. It feels like your apartment is glowing, but it does nothing to relax the nerves that course through your veins as you pace the small space of your room trying to shake them before his inevitable arrival.

Knock, knock, knock

They are quieter than his normal ones, but they make you jump just the same. You shake your hands out, taking a deep breath before you pad barefoot to your front door. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth to try and contain the smile that always grows the first time you lay your eyes on him and his lopsided grin.

“Hey baby.” He greets you in the kind of voice that makes the dough of your thighs press.

His damp hair is pushed back, from what looks like a few quick hands in the mirror. A simple white shirt replaces the tank top from before, fitting loosely across his shoulders, and a soft looking pair of gray cotton shorts cover the tops of his thighs this time. He’s wearing a tan pair of moccasin slippers on his feet that you’ve never seen, and for some reason his exposed ankles make the heat rise to your cheeks while the fresh scent of his pine body wash threatens to take over your senses.

“Hi handsome.” It’s dripping in sugar the way you say it, sweet off your tongue just for him as you open the door wider.

He thinks your apartment smells like peaches and the ocean when you close it behind him. It smells just like you and he feels surrounded by it, intoxicated with it, the way he always wants to be. You watch him take in your apartment like he missed it too, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth when he notices you just cleaned it. He bites back his remark when his eyes meet yours, he can’t bring himself to say it when you’re staring at him from under your lashes with your back pressed to the door all shy like that.

“Don’t be shy, honey,” he extends a big hand out for you to take with soft eyes, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” copying your line from outside, he wiggles his fingers a little with a smile warmer than the glow of the candles that dance shadows across his sharp jaw and cheek bones, “I just wanna lay with you.”

You don’t hesitate to slip your palm into his, your heart racing when you watch his fingers wrap around you with ease. He pulls you into him, colliding in a mix of forest and the beach. He keeps a hold of your hand, cupping your cheek with his other one. The pad of his thumb traces over the heated skin, paying extra attention to the soft bag under your eye. You needed sleep.

“Just me and you, that’s all I want, okay?” He reassures you in a voice lower than a whisper. His heart swells when you nod with big glassy eyes, your hand coming to rest on the top of his so you can lean deeper into his touch.Steve’s hazel eyes look to yours, he tilts his head a little bit closer in a silent ask for permission, you push up on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He kisses you differently than how he did in the alley, differently than the Fourth of July and the baseball game. He’s gentle, like he’s taking his time with you because he actually has it now, like he’s sure of it. He doesn’t try to deepen it even when they move together like this is what they were always meant to be doing, not even when your top lip catches a little dirty with his bottom. He wants to remember this moment, commit it to memory so that he never forgets what this feels like with you. He kisses you like this until the need for oxygen becomes too much and your feet start to hurt from standing in place for too long.

“Let’s go lay down.” You whisper between bated breaths that mingle with his, your chests heave as he gives you the kind of toothy grin that makes the butterflies wake up again, nodding with a squeeze of your hand.

The hum of A/C and the sounds of your breathing are the only things that can be heard in the low light of your room. Steve’s body lays pressed on top of yours, making himself comfortable between your legs. His head rests on your sternum with a cheek against the soft curve of your tummy. His big hands hold tight to your sides, caging you in – it feels like he’s everywhere and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The weight of him relaxes you into the feathers of your pillows.

Your fingers keep themselves busy buried deep in the thickness of his hair. Still a little damp at the roots, you massage the part of his scalp you know was resting on the hard cushion of the airplane seat, earning you a deep groan that vibrates between your legs. He feels the way they try to close because of it, the sharp intake of breath that you try to hide.

He’d be lying if he said his own body wasn’t reacting being this close to you, especially when the pads of his thumbs caress under the swell of your breasts and there’s no wire of a bra to be found. His eyes roll back as the blunt ends of your nails start to scratch lightly near the nape of his neck, making his fingers squeeze you at the sensation. His face nuzzles deeper into the softness of your stomach, inhaling. You feel the prickle of his stubble through the thin material of your tank top and it makes you giggle.

Steve doesn’t know how he lasted as long as he did this past week without you.

He pushes the bottom of your tank top up and tries not to stare at the supple skin exposed to him before blowing a raspberry. It earns an even louder giggle, making your legs bend at the knees, trapping him in between your thighs.

“Steve!” You sound annoyed but the smile on your face gives you away when you go to cover your eyes with the back of your hand.

“What baby?” He smirks against your skin and feels the way it makes you squirm with a subtle roll of your hips, he’s not even sure you noticed that you did it.

“No…”Your voice trails off when he pushes your shirt up a little higher, his lips getting bolder, addicted to the way you heat up for him with every soft kiss, “No raspberries.” You finally manage, making him chuckle. But that doesn’t stop him continuing on his path.

“I promise I’ll be nice, m’sorry” He mumbles an apology against your skin, basking in the goosebumps it earns him.

He sits back on his knees, thumbs hooking into the bottom of your tank. His eyes meet yours from underneath his lashes and he wishes he could take a picture of the way you look right now.

“Is this okay?” He asks just to make sure, and the nod of your head with heavy lids is enough for him to press a wet kiss on your sternum before pulling the rest of the offending fabric off, throwing it somewhere on your floor.

Steve forgets how to breathe the moment his eyes land on you, soft curves just begging for his touch. He can’t help himself when he runs his palms up your sides making your nipples pebble when the pads of his thumbs meet the bottom swell of your breasts. You wonder if he can feel the wings under your rib cage.

“God - honey,” Steve’s words get lost on his tongue when you stare up at him with eyes blown out like his, it makes him run a hand down his face like he can’t believe you’re real. “I’m lucky to just be lookin’ at you.”

His praise makes a shy smile push up your cheeks, his own teeth shining in a grin because of it.

“I wanna look at you too.” You whine a little, reaching down between your legs to tug at the cotton of his shirt with a pout.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, bending back down to hover over you. His nose nudges against your cheek before his lips brush yours, smirking when you nod a little desperate against his mouth.

The kiss he gives you lingers, lighting a fire inside of you, the kind that burns at your fingertips, consuming you like it’s wild and it makes you realize it’s never going to be enough. You’re never going to get enough of the man who looks at you like you hung the stars in his sky, like you were the sun that broke through the rain clouds that followed him around.

His fingers curl at the hem of his shirt, and it feels like he’s moving in slow motion when he pulls it over his head, adding it to the already growing pile on the floor. His muscles twitch under your gaze, his own nerves finally catching up to him when he realizes just how long it’s been since he’s been with someone like this. Pink dusts his cheeks but he doesn’t look away, not when he sees the way your eyes glaze over at the sight. The dark thatch of hair in the middle of his chest looks soft to the touch from his late night shower and it makes your fingers twitch to touch him.

The silver of his chain gleams like yours in the moonlight that leaks through your curtains and it makes his skin look like it glows. You give in, running your fingertips through the thick happy trail that’s surrounded by another collection of freckles and moles that you feel the need to kiss and you catch the shudder that runs through him because of it.

“You’re so handsome, Steve.” It comes out a little breathless, and it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Thank you, angel.” He tries to hide his bashfulness in a grin and a hand through his hair, bending back down to press a kiss to your collarbone so you don’t see his smile.

He starts a path up your neck, nipping at sensitive skin along the way to your lips, his own butterflies being spurred on by the whimper it earns him. He hovers over you searching your face for any indication to stop but he’s only met with the kind of look in your eyes that almost has him say it.

‘I love you’.

He tries to show you by slotting his lips against yours in a hot breath, like a key to its lock. The bed dips on either side of your head when he goes from his palms to his forearms, chest to chest he wonders if you can feel his heart beating just for you tonight.

The feeling of his skin against yours makes every inch of you feel like a livewire, both of you moaning into the kiss like you’ve waited too long for this. Tongues collide messily when he rolls his hips with a purpose. The pointed pressure on your bundle of nerves, has you keening into him. Your hands slide up his chest through the patch of hair you’d been dreaming about for months, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Addicted to the way his hard muscles flex against your soft skin.

Box springs squeak when he lets go of all of his weight, it feels like he’s everywhere and it makes your head spin. Your fingers find their way back into the soft hair at the nape of his neck as you fight for dominance with his lips, trying to convey everything you’re feeling right now because words just won’t work.

Pushing your hips up to meet his in a slow grind, the thin material of his shorts does nothing to hide just how big he really is and it makes everything turn sloppy, teeth scraping together with silk between your fingers tugging at his roots a little mean. He smiles when he pulls away to catch his breath, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes are as black as the night outside that threatens to give away to the sun in just a few hours, they look at you like he can’t believe you’re real, memorizing every detail of your face like you might disappear if he blinks.

“So pretty.” He murmurs before littering kisses down your body, some sweet and some with a nip of his teeth.

His eyes meet yours in a silent question of ‘is this okay?’, long fingers curling around the elastic band. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth to hide your shy smile. You nod with a little too much excitement making him smirk before pressing a sweet kiss on the top of your hip, running his nose along the soft your tummy doing it again to the other side.

You hold your breath when he pulls them down your thighs, the tips of his fingers gliding down the sides of your legs as he goes, lips tugging up when you squirm a little because of it. A low groan vibrates from his chest when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear, glistening with your arousal in the dim light. You’re so wet and all he’s done is kiss you.

“Baby, baby, baby.” He mutters awestruck by the sight.

A little embarrassed at your body’s reaction, his praise makes your legs try to snap shut but he stops you with a gentle hand on the inside of your knee, spreading them again.

“You’re beautiful, please don’t hide from me.” He begs, taking all of you in again. “So, so, so beautiful, honey.”

His fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling your leg up enough for his lips to kiss the soft skin right above the round bone, his nose skims up your calf to press another one, relishing in the giggle he gets as he keeps on his path to what he really wants. You squeal when he nips at the inside of your knee and you can feel his smirk against your goosebumps.

Once his kisses get to your thigh, he settles between your legs with his chest to the mattress. It’s hard to remember your own name when he looks up at you through his lashes like that. He hooks your knee over his broad shoulder, his lips dragging a little dirty across your heated skin. He can taste the watermelon that still lingers from his favorite lotion. You were going to be the death of him.

He meets your eyes when he gets high enough for your thigh and hip to connect. Close enough to smell how sweet you are worked up just for him.

“Can I taste you?” He skims his nose up the plush inside of your thigh when he asks, his eyelids growing heavy just basking in being close to you like this. You could say no, and this would be enough for him but the way you’re already dripping on your sheets makes him insatiable. “You want that?”

You want that?

He watches how your eyes glaze over at his question, the intensity of his gaze makes you want to hide, he was so handsome looking up at you like this. Too bashful to actually say yes, you nod again.

“Can you say it for me?” He squeezes your hip, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles to soothe your nerves like his own weren’t boiling under the surface of his confident demeanor like a volcano ready to explode.

What if he wasn’t good at this anymore?

“Y- yes, I want you to taste me, handsome you can do whatever you want to me.” The breathy giggle that bubbles passed your lips makes him grin lopsided just how you like, a smugness that wasn’t there before smoldering like a fire in his eyes.

“Yeah? Fuck - Honey, I dream about this.” He groans when he pulls himself closer, the tip of his nose running up your slick folds making you shudder, fingers already tangling in your sheets. “You want me to show you how much I missed you?”

He doesn’t tell you that he’s started to always miss you when you aren’t around.

He accepts your nod this time, your teeth threatening to make your bottom lip bleed when he settles your other leg over his shoulder too, nothing holding him back from you anymore. He takes all of you in with a greedy eyes, his pink tongue darling out to lick his lips when he sees just how much you want this too.

Nothing can prepare you for the first swipe of his flattened tongue between your slick folds, the tip of it catching your clit with just enough pressure for the grip on your sheets to tighten. The butterflies in your rib cage feel like they make their escape in the gasp you let out, his low hum of approval making your toes curl when he does it again.

“So fucking sweet baby, god of course you are.”

He doesn’t waste anymore time testing the waters, his self doubt gone with his self control when your hips roll up asking for more. Steve knows now he’ll never say no to you and he’s not shy with the way he buries his face in your pussy. His tongue laps up everything you give him, like he’s hungry with his nose pressed to your bundle of nerves with enough pressure to make your back arch.

“Ohmygod - Steve.” The moan you let out makes his cock twitch, your fingers reaching down to tangle themselves in his hair, shamelessly pulling him closer. You were better than his dreams.

Your thighs snap closed around his ears after he stops the greedy strokes of his tongue in the tightness of your entrance for his lips to wrap your clit. He sucks with the kind of force that makes your eyes hit the back of your head. His eyebrows marry together when he closes his eyes like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. One of hands leaves the dough of your thighs for his thick index finger to take his tongue's place, collecting the slick from between your folds before pushing one knuckle in.

It makes you gasp a little breathy as your hips push up for more, and he gives it to you, pushing two more knuckles in and you already feel so full. Your walls constrict, fluttering around his single digit like it’s a stretch and he wonders how you’re going to be able to take him. His own hips rut into the mattress in search of some kind of relief while he sets a steady pace between his mouth and his wrist that has you clenching like you’re about to unravel.

“You close baby? Wanna show me how good it feels?” His question comes out sloppy against your mound, all the color in his eyes is gone meeting yours from between your legs blown wide. When he adds a second finger, it slides in with ease making your eyes hit the back of your head, a low moan bubbling past your lips. Your toes curl with his fingers, jaw going slack with his name in your mouth like a prayer and he’s scared you’re going to make him cum in his pants again.

“Just like that, fuck - right there - Steve, Steve, Steeeeeve!” The fingers that are tangled in his hair tug rough, your thighs clamping down hard around his head while your body tries to squirm away to run from the intensity of it all, the stubble on his jaw rubbing you raw when he moves his head from side to side drinking in everything you give him.

His hand on your hip locks you in place while you come undone on his tongue and he swears you taste just like sugar when he buries his face in deeper till you whine, pushing on his forehead to stop, overstimulation winning. Heat floods your cheeks when you see the shine from your slick covering the bottom of his lopsided grin when he finally looks up at you.

“So pretty like this,” He mumbles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your shaking thigh.

You cover your face with your hands, the intensity of your first orgasm and the intimacy of it all overwhelms you, the tightness in your chest threatens to become unbearable. The three words sitting at the tip of your tongue beg to come out from between your lips.

Not yet.

He trails sticky kisses up your stomach, making sure to pay special attention to the swell of your breasts, pulling them both together in his big hands to give them equal treatment. Shining lips wrap around your sensitive nipples and it's enough for a new wave of arousal to blossom deep inside your belly, a subtle rock of your hips meeting his when he rolls one between his teeth. Insatiable, just like him.

“Steve,” His name comes out around a sigh, your fingers running up his freckled back before tangling themselves in his hair again, addicted to the softness of it.

“Mmm, tell me what you want.” He looks up at you from under thick lashes, lids heavy, and eyes glossy. He’s wrecked.

“You.” The answer is just as simple as it was outside, it's all you’ve ever wanted. You realize that now. The universe bringing you here to this moment with him. This was it.

“Baby,” he looks at you like he means it, like his whole heart is in your hands now and it has been since the day you moved in he just didn’t know it yet, “I’m yours.”

He moves back up your body, leaving wet kisses across sweat slicked skin making sure to suck at the sensitive spot he found just above your collarbone, smiling when you gasp. He’s not expecting to feel your lips against his jaw, bold and sure of themselves by the time they get to the corner of his mouth, dainty fingers pulling his chin down to collect your kiss.

Your lips move like you can finally relax, like you’re home now and he can feel your heartbeat against his chest. This didn’t feel like just sex.

Your hands run down his sides, grinning into his mouth when he chuckles as the tips of your fingers brush against his ribs, you keep that information locked away another time as you hook them in the elastic band of his shorts. His tongue licks a little dirty into your mouth when you start to pull them down his hips, helping you get them to his knees before kicking them off entirely. The length of him feels heavy against your stomach, and it makes you break away from the kiss but his lips stay attached to you.

Your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere he can reach.

The view makes your breath hitch and get stuck in the back of your throat, walls fluttering around nothing when you see just how big he really is. He’s too busy trying to find new places to make you gasp and all you wanna do is look at him.

“Steve” his name comes out around the gasp he was trying so hard to get by sucking a little bruise behind your ear.

He hums against your skin with his eyes closed, drowning in you. Love drunk off of it. The slow sleepiness from the day creeping in as his body molds to the warmth of you.

“I wanna look at you, too.” Your request is quiet against the rough stubble that fades into his neck, and you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips.

“Yeah?” His voice is hoarse, nose nudging against your jaw when he brings his gaze back to yours, a smile pulls up the apples of his cheeks, crinkling small lines under his eyes.

“Yeah.” You don’t nod this time.

He holds your eyes in his, needing you to know there’s a double meaning in his words when he brings his palm to your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the high bone.

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

The mattress bounces when Steve flops next to you on his back, the two of you barely fitting on your queen size with his broad shoulders and long legs. He catches the way your eyes grow big when you sit up on your knees and finally get to see all of him. He reaches out for you, sensing your hesitation at his size

“C’mere, baby, we’ll go slow.”

Heat blooms between your legs when you take his hand, your knees finding a home on either side of his hips. He’s thicker than you’d imagined all those nights with your fingers between your thighs. The big vein running up the length of him protrudes like it’s working overtime, while beads of pearly white smear against the rough patch of hair just below his belly button from his light pink tip. Wrapping his hand around the base, he gives himself a pump to relieve some of the ache from seeing you sitting on top of him like this. Soft curves on display in the moonlight, he can’t wait to see them when it breaks daylight.

“Fuck,” He sighs when you settle above him, “you look gorgeous.”

His words make your confidence peak, your hands finding themselves flat against his chest, the blunt ends of your nails drag through the hair there and you spot another cluster of freckles you hadn’t seen before, you wonder if he’ll let you find them all.

“Look who’s talkin’” You tease, making him laugh as you lean up to steal a kiss. The motion has the length of him slide easily between your slick folds, his tip catching your clit before popping out.

“Jesus Christ.” He sighs against your mouth that’s formed in a silent ‘o’, rolling his back up in search for more.

“Steve - you’re so - “ The last of your sentence is stolen by a gasp when you grind down to meet his thrust, the tip of him prodding your entrance before gliding up with just the right amount of pressure to make you both moan.

“I’m so what?” He asks a little smug, arms circling the curve of your waist to pull you closer, dragging you over the length of him again, it makes you shudder in his grasp.

He catches against where you beg for more of him, fluttering around the tip, your walls try to suck him in. A low growl rumbles from his chest when he tries to fit a little more. It’s your hips that roll, and it's just enough for him to push all the way in with a little resistance.

“Goddd,” You whine, feeling the fullest you’ve ever been, your walls stinging, desperately trying to accommodate his size. A low huff exhales through your nose when you sit up straight, letting your nails drag over the beauty marks that litter his stomach before finishing your sentence, “so big.”

“Yeah, but look at you takin’ it.” He groans with pinched brows, eyes transfixed on where he disappears inside of you. Arousal coating the thick thatch of hair that frames him, wetting his lips as he watches the way you grind your clit against it letting him fill you to the hilt. “So good for me baby, so beautiful, - fuck! - so gorgeous.”

His praise has you clenching around him, your mouth falling open when you feel him twitch because of it. His big hands find the tops of your thighs, the pads of his fingers leaving fires in their wake while making their way to your hips. He squeezes softly when he gets there, guiding your lazy thrusts before searching for your hands.

You watch him intertwine your fingers with curious eyes, his gaze transfixed on yours as he holds them at your sides, rolling his hips up to push even deeper.

“Oh god,” He does it again only this time if feels like there’s nowhere else for him to fit and it makes your eyes screw shut, “ohmyfuckinggod - Steeeve!”

“Right there? Yeah? Is that it?” He grunts trying to repeat it and your hands squeeze his in an iron grip. “Come on baby, I need to see you.”

It’s hard to open your eyes, the slow drag of his cock against your slick walls is almost overwhelming. Connected to him in a way that is going to change you forever. The pad of his thumb rubs soft on the top of your hand, bringing you back to him.

“You’re eyes are too pretty to be keepin’ them from me.” He smiles when you finally meet his gaze and it’s enough to punch the air out of your lungs.

“I love you.” The three words slip past your kiss bitten lips before you can even think long enough to stop them and it makes everything come to a standstill.

“What’d you just say?” Steve’s voice is quiet, something unrecognizable in his tone that makes all your nerves come back like they never left.

“I - I -“ the harsh sting of rejection is written all over your face and the feeling of you trying to untangle your hands snaps him back to reality. To you.

“Hey, hey, hey, no honey.” He doesn’t let you go, squeezing till his knuckles turn white “I just wanted to make sure I heard you right, because I’ve been wanting to say that to you since the fourth of July.”

You light up for him in a way he’s never seen before and he thinks this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been.

“Really?” You whisper a little shy, your own smile becoming uncontainable.

He lets your hands go to wrap his arms back around your waist, sitting up as he pulls you with him on his lap. Chest to chest with his back against your headboard, you’re even closer to him like this. The new position has him impossibly deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix making you keen pretty.

“Yeah, really.” He sighs, wishing he had gotten to say it first.

One arm keeps you close while the other wraps around your back, the warmth of his palm spreading wide across it. The stray hair that you missed more than you realized falls over his forehead and there’s nothing stopping you from pushing it back. Fingernails dragging through his soft hair, making his eyes close until he feels the slow drag of your hips spurring him on.

He doesn’t hesitate to pick up the pace, especially when your arms wrap around his neck and he feels your hardened nipples against chest. The new angle has his thrusts hitting the spot inside of you no one else has ever been able to find, the one you almost didn’t think existed. The tip of him catches it again and again.

The sound of your slick fills the quiet of your room, growing louder with every roll of your hips that connect with his. The light sheen of sweat that coats both of you has you sliding against his thighs, the cool air from the A/C doing nothing as the two of you get lost like this.

Your second orgasm builds at the same time your body starts to slump against his, your muscles screaming at you for a break.

“Getting close, huh?” He asks, with a forehead pressed to yours, lips teasing but never touching with each thrust.

All you can do is nod, your eyes not daring to leave his again. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried, a hazel forest turned night, you never wanted to leave the depths of them.

“So good for me, let go pretty baby, I got you. Let me do all the work.” He picks up his pace, pushing deeper in with every roll of his hips, feeling the way you squeeze around him while your body starts to shake, the high you’d been chasing threatening to take you.

Holding your gaze, the hand on your back slides up the dip of your spine, curling around the back of your neck. He closes the last bit of space, pulling you to his lips. It’s sloppy and sweet, neither one of you trying to deepen it, just enjoying the way you move together like it was supposed to be like this forever.

“Fuck- I love you so much it scares me.” Steve admits when he pulls away, his confession is the last straw that sends you over the edge. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes when you cum hard around him for the second time.

Your fingers tangle his hair, crashing your lips into his with tear stained cheeks and he can feel everything you put inside of it just for him. It’s enough to finally let himself unravel for the first time in years with a loud moan and his face buried in your neck.

It warms deep in your gut when he spills inside of you, his body trembling with the intensity of it all. Your thighs shake clinging to him, both of you too scared to let go in the irrational fear that you’ll just wake up from a really good dream. You can feel the wetness of his tears against your skin, your nails finding their way to his scalp. He hums against you when you kiss his temple, nuzzling deeper until you feel his lips against the underside of your jaw.

The two of you sit there like this in a mess of tangled limbs. Sweet kisses and even sweeter words all spoken just barely above a whisper until he’s soft enough to slide out on his own. He takes his time cleaning you up after with giant hands that treat you like glass.

It’s like muscle memory the way he pulls you to his chest under the covers, like this isn’t your first sleepover. The tip of his nose runs along the length of yours with shining eyes and an even brighter smile, kissing you softly with another whispered “you’re so beautiful”.

Streams of sunshine break through your blinds when the two of you finally settle in, buried deep in his arms surrounded by the lingering scent of pine and him, the sounds of his even breathing are enough for you to give into your heavy lids.

It’s only when you’re on the verge of dreams you’re sure will be filled with him that you hear it:

“I love you, tough girl.”

🌇 -> epilogue

beta’d by @chechelia & dividers by @chechelia

(thank you for everything cece ♥️ and a special thank you to @superblysubpar for betaing the first half of this series, i love you both dearly. & also @carolmunson for always talking to me about our boys, and helping me make this world a little bigger ♥️ ily)

#my writing #all i really want is you series #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington slowburn #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harringont series

929 notes · View notes

someonegoood · 1 month

Text

MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 2 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

in which life does not go on after Mason breaks your heart over and over again. (brother’s best friends troop).

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst, some smut (not really explicit) & fluff ! age gap, arguments...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: here's part 2 ! Mason made his first goal for United and I'm emotional 💞 I'll do part 3 later

taglist: @dreamingofautopia @xjval @sunflower-tia @sad-fridge2323 @girlidekanymore @borbolwra3

Chelsea added to their story.

Your phone notified you, immediately dampening your mood. Everything was related to him.

It’s been two months since Mason shattered your heart after that nightmare of a night. The funny thing is that a part of you didn’t hate him, a part of you that still loved him existed.

You had waited for him to text you to ask how you were and if you were free to hang out. And by the time you realized that he wasn’t going to, it was too late… too awkward for you to ask as well. So, both of you had resorted to ignorance and hostility.

Life eventually went on, even though you had cut one of the most important people out of your life. And you’d see yourself by night, in your dreams. All these faces in the crowded city of London, and for some reason, you’d still try to find his. Mason was no longer yours.

Although he never was.

The first time Mason saw you after that night was a couple of months later, at a family lunch. The two families —Mounts and yours—had united in your family's garden for a little lunch to catch up on life. You had turned twenty and Lyon was old news.

But Mason’s eyes were stuck on your body as he watched you sit between his sister and your brother just before him. Sipping from a glass of wine that you most likely didn’t like, he glanced at you.

Your brother had brought his new girlfriend with him and even though you were still as close as ever, his attention was on the pretty blonde talking to your nanny.

Mason had spent so much of his life avoiding you, but after the night of the party, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. Although he just couldn’t.

—Dear, will you serve me a little piece of that cake? —Your mother had her plate in her hand, waiting for Mason to react. It took him about five seconds to come out of his trance and then he served her what she had ordered.

He was too busy thinking about you.

—So, Mason… when is your next match? Your dad told me you were playing for England. —Your mom tried to lighten up the mood since you were not bickering with Mason as you were on other occasions.

Mason smiled up while you looked at him and caught a glimpse of his beautiful Cheshire cat smile.

—I’m playing next week, on Sunday… —He looked around at everyone and proceeded. —You are all invited, of course.

After an hour or two, everyone stood up, scattering around the decorated garden. Mason grabbed his phone from the table and headed to the kitchen in search of a beer.

In the background, the voices of the two families blurred together as you finished washing your plate. Both Mount sisters were busy playing card games with their mother and your brother was having a talk about politics, which you were not at all interested in. You had no one to talk to.

Suddenly, you feel someone behind you trying to open the refrigerator. That bloody refrigerator, which, being so old, could not be opened correctly. You turned around, not expecting to see Mason looking at you.

You headed to the refrigerator to open it, so Mason moved from where he was previously standing, leaning on the kitchen counter. You gave the refrigerator a little kick and it opened.

—Thanks… —He said grabbing the beer, the tension being palpable in the air. After a long pause, you continued:

—How are you? —you asked, he could feel your eyes staring into his side profile, but he stared at the sun setting over the British landscape.

—I’m alright.

Scoring some scarce points with Chelsea has become almost impossible under a year ago now, and you really felt sorry for him, knowing everything he and his team put in.

—How are you holding up? —you stood next to him, nudging his shoulder with yours, before looking down at the floor. You felt the look of pity that Mason was giving you, but you tried to ignore it.

—Thank you, really.

—Mase...

He looked in your eyes this time, he looked so sad, so broken. So desperate for a hug. You didn’t pressure him to answer your question, instead, you gently placed your head on his shoulder looking along the garden in silence.

—It will be alright, you know. —He hummed, knowing you were still hurt because of what he had said.

—I know. —You whispered back. —And don't worry much about scoring, in the least expected moments your shot is the one that serves the most.

He hated how much you believed him because at that moment he felt like the six-year-old boy with dreams bigger than the world itself, who thought everything was possible.

Mason looked down at you, the smile on his lips was enough to melt your heart, and threw his head back in a laugh.

—I don't think I’m ever getting rid of you.

Now it was your turn to laugh. After all the laughing he noticed how your eyes shifted from his own to his lips, and then he remembered why he was avoiding you in the first place. He did a face.

—I know, I know. —You said with a sad look on your face.

—You know I’m too old for you, right? —Mason whispered as he leaned his forehead on yours.

—I’m in it for the long game, Mount.

It felt like your heart was twisting and stuttering, sometimes beating too quickly that you were afraid it was going to push you over the edge. You wanted him to notice, to do something to fix it.

Time went on flying, the last few days being hectic. It was already Sunday and today Mason was playing with England and obviously, you were more than proud. He had invited your brother —his best friend—, you and your family to watch him from the special box for family and friends.

The cold air hits your face as soon as you enter the box with your family. Excited, you see Debbie and Tony, and their children already seated. You were so nervous that your hands were even sweating.

You sit next to Stacey, Mason's older sister. She gives you a smile.

—Nervous about the game? —she asks.

—A bit, yes... —you say as you settle down, your eyes scanning the pitch, looking for him. For Mason.

—This should be an easy game, England has a better team.

—You never know. —you reply. You were almost freezing, you only had the basic England t-shirt on.

Stacey noticed that you were shivering from the cold and decided to take off the sweatshirt she had tied around her shoulders. She put it on your lap and smiled.

—Put it on, otherwise, you'll freeze to death here. —she said, laughing.

—I'm... —You said about to deny it. For a second, you thought about the cold that you would catch without the sweatshirt, so you decided to take it. —Oh, never mind.

The sweatshirt was white and had his number and surname printed on the front, in a blue font. This made you remember the uncountable times when you stole Mason's sweatshirts just to have his number on you.

Stacey, without you seeing, grabbed her phone and texted his brother: "Just wanted to say that she's here and she's got your name on her sweatshirt. Good luck! We're all rooting for you. And don't worry, she'll wait for you."

All of a sudden, Summer, Mason's niece, came up to you asking if she could sit in your lap to have a better look at the pitch. It was no secret that Summer enjoyed seeing you, as she had grown up seeing your brother and you in the Mount household.

—Look over there, Summer! There is your uncle. —said Stacey, and both Summer and you looked over to where the players were entering the enormous pitch. There he was, beautiful as always.

The whistle was blown and the match started. Everyone was immersed in the excitement of the box, watching the match carefully. The atmosphere was electric, and each second increased the tension.

—Yes! —You screamed when Mason's friend, Declan, scored the opening goal, feeling your heart beat against your chest rapidly. Summer looked up at you with wide eyes, before she started giggling. You smiled and leaned down to where she was and kissed her on the forehead.

The second half started and your eyes only followed Mason running up and down the pitch. Only one goal was scored in the whole 45 minutes of the first half, that being Declan's goal.

Abruptly, Stones stole the ball from a player on the opposing team. He ran alone, jumped over some defenders and, feinting, the ball passed to Henderson on the right side. He analyzed the position of the players spread around the pitch before passing it to Foden, who was almost close to the goal.

He passed it to Mason and he, avoiding the players, aimed and kicked with all his strength.

The world went silent for a moment. He had scored.

After realizing that he had scored a goal, Mason ran to the end of the field, right where you were. The atmosphere was pure shouting, people jumping and celebrating but you only had eyes for Mason.

He looked towards the box looking for those who truly love him and just at that precise moment, you connected glances. With a shaky breath, you stood up from your seat and waved to him, also trying to hold Summer up with your other arm.

Mason's heart melted when he saw that scene and many things went through his head: he couldn't believe he had scored a goal after so long and he also couldn't believe how beautiful you looked with his niece in your arms.

In celebration, he pointed to both of you and you could only sigh in love. The game ended with a great performance from Mason and a win for England.

As soon as he stepped into the box, he scanned the room for you, but Summer caught him off guard.

—Uncle Mase! —she ran toward him and he picked her up, planting a kiss on her cheek while she wrapped her small arms around his neck.

—My favourite person! —His eyes fell on you and he didn't know if it was his imagination or the fact that he hadn't seen you in days, but you looked prettier than usual.

You were standing at the back, watching Mason greet his family. You felt shy and awkward, which made you hate the feeling even more. All you wanted was love from him and for that, you haven't slept well in the days after the family lunch with the Mount's.

—I played well, all thanks to you. —He kissed her head and his niece giggled. The little girl ran toward her mother and then closed the door, leaving you and Mason all alone. Your family had congratulated Mason before and told you they were waiting outside.

—How have you been? —His voice was gentle like he was afraid to say something.

—Mason! —you laughed. —You just scored a tremendous goal for England and you ask me how am I? Sometimes I don't understand you.

—Alright, alright. You have a point! —he laughed, definitely not missing those nervous butterflies in his stomach. He felt like a little boy.

His gaze searched yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He scratched the back of his neck and then looked at your sweatshirt with his surname and number.

His number looked very good on you, he thought.

He gazed at your lips and he came dangerously close to you. You stepped back, hitting the table. Mason was looking straight into your eyes when he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and sat you on the table. You let out a little squeal. The air was thick with tension, and all you craved was to pull him close and kiss him passionately.

—We-we should go. —you said, clearing your throat. —Your family is waiting.

Quickly, Mason grabbed your wrist.

—Mase... You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart.

Now he’s frowning as he tries to unravel your words. His breath hitches.

—I feel things… —your heart twirls with the way his voice sounds. You had always loved his voice. How croaky it was. But you never imagined that it would turn your entire world upside down to hear him say that.

Pushing his hand down, you look back, weak and concerned. He worries you might have suddenly regretted all of this. That you would walk away and never want to talk to him ever again.

What he didn't know is that he's everything you were imagining those long nights… he had never kissed you, not even touched you.

—It’s okay if you want to stop- —he said, while you slid your hands under his t-shirt. Running up and down your hands through his lower torso, you felt his abs contract.

—Mount, I'm certain that I'm okay. —you said, giggling. He smirked. Your core grows tighter with his expressions, now holding onto his broad shoulders.

Unexpectedly, you both heard from behind the closed door someone shout: —Mate, are you there? The party starts at ten, hurry!

Fuck. That was your brother.

Mason had completely forgotten about the party in honour of their win. How the fuck was he getting out of that room with a hard-on? He had to calm himself.

You, on the other side, felt your heart falls into pieces. You thought about how long you had waited for this exact moment, every time you gave your endless hope all you ended up doing was bleeding. And this time, not only he was about to leave you alone but he was going to leave you turned on.

—I'm-I'm sorry... —he said, exiting quickly from the room.

After that match, you only heard from Mason through your brother. He had told you that after the match, at the party, Mason had rejected every girl who appeared to flirt with him.

Apparently, you've had an effect on him.

Mason hated how his heartbeat boomed in his ear when he saw you standing in his parents' house, with a blue shirt that had printed out the number 19 on the back, hugging your figure.

You had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, you had for sure gone through puberty. He didn’t like to stare but he found it hard not to sometimes. Especially on family boat trips when you would wear a bikini in front of him.

—So, we're leaving after lunch. Do you want to meet at the stadium or at home?

You took a minute to understand. —What?

—The game, remember? We're having lunch here and then driving up to watch the game. —Said your brother, while getting on the boat. About three weeks had passed since you almost kissed Mason and now you were about to hop on the Mount's boat in Portsmouth.

You had completely forgotten about the game. During your conversations with your brother, you could sense that Mason hadn't mentioned anything about that night which was, in a way, kind of relieving.

Just like you, Mason had also forgotten that your family was coming over. But when his sister sent him a text saying that your family would join him before his game, he was flabbergasted.

You both hadn't spoken since the night of the win, but you both were thinking about that interaction since then. To forget that incident, he had spoken to one of his best friends, Ben, in search of a solution.

—Mate, what you need is a good fling. Maybe you should invite someone next time you're going on a family boat day —said Ben, laughing because of what Mason was asking him.

You got on Mason's boat, feeling heavy-hearted once again. After an hour, you were seated on the floor, helping Stacey with a puzzle, after your mom expelled you from the kitchen when trying to help her. Meanwhile, Mason and his mother sat down on the couch.

—She has grown into a beautiful woman, don't you think? —His mom said teasingly, already knowing that you were not the only one fallen for someone.

—Yes, she has. —He looked at you, seeing you laugh at something his sister had said. —Mom... I think I fucked up.

—If you had fucked up, she wouldn't be here.

—No mom, I really- —Mason got interrupted by the entrance of a tall, dark-eye, skinny blond, almost gotten out from a runway. She turned toward Mason and presented herself as Daphne, a friend. Debbie now understood why her son said he had fucked up really bad.

Your brother, seeing Daphne —the supposed fling of Mason— talking with him, turned to you.

—Forget your stuff, let’s just get off this boat. Don’t turn around okay? —his hands gripping strongly your shoulders. He knew how much you liked his best friend.

You laughed and followed your brother down the steps of the boat before stopping in your tracks.

—Since when have I ever listened to you? Dear God, I- — Your mouth fell open as you turned around to be met with Mason and his mother, and the presence of a girl that looked like an actual model.

She was leaning on him and he was laughing at whatever she had to say, while Debbie looked at you with pity. You felt like he had personally ripped your heart out, for a hundred times.

—You knew?

Your brother sighed before running his hands through his hair: —She's only a side thing, a one-time fling. I mean she’s not you, but he decided to find someone before Christmas. —He shrugged his shoulders and you felt the rage creeping up your body.

—What about me? When will I be happy? —you said, crying.

That sentence broke your brother's heart.

19 years to be exact, that's the time you've been waiting for him.

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evera-era · 7 months

Text

heal me. (pt 2)

ellie williams x fem!reader, pt one here

warnings: fluff, slight angst, mentions of illness, implied suggestiveness, ellie nurses reader back to health, even more fluff

a/n: eeeee yall i redid this chapter so many times but i think i’m finally happy with it. part 3 will be the last one!

Ellie had found herself much more aware of your existence. It’s been a few weeks since your last conversation, and now, her eyes searched for you almost everywhere she went.

Sometimes she would linger on the streets of Jackson — walking home almost agonizingly slow — for a chance to run into you. If she was lucky, she would find you tending to a crying child, or helping someone cross the street. And if you noticed her, too, you’d exchange a small wave.

She was a little embarrassed about it. She told herself that it’s because she has time to pass, and nothing really to rush home to. But she’s never done this before, and deep down she knows the truth.

It was the sound of your voice that surprised her as she was returning from patrol one day.

“Ellie!”

She quickly turned her head, blinking two or three times before realizing that you were really in front of her.

“Oh, hey.” She says, her eyes illuminating at the sight of you. “How— How are you?”

“I’m good.” You eyed her torso for a moment. “What about you? How are you holding up?”

“I, uh, just got back from patrol. Dropped my horse off.” She explains. “Oh, and um… the cut is almost done healing.”

“That’s great,” You beamed. God, even your smile was alluring.

A sharp wind blows across Ellie’s face, and yours. It tousles your hair that you had so obviously tried to brush down. She can’t explain why, but she thinks you look better this way.

A few people passed by as you stood several feet apart, fidgeting shyly. “I figured it was all good when you didn’t come back to see me.” You added, looking down at the ground.

Shit, She thinks. “Damn, wait, I’m sorry—“

“It’s okay—“

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, I did, I just…” She scratches her head. “Wasn’t sure if it was right of me to go, like, during business hours.”

You found it intriguing how seriously Ellie had taken the matter. And then you think of something funny in your head, and catch yourself laughing a bit. Ellie watches intently.

“So… you’re trying to visit me after hours?” You joke lightheartedly. “Wow. We’re moving fast already.”

“What?” She asks hesitantly. “Fuck, that was weird, wasn’t it? That’s not what I meant—“

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” You say quickly, taking in the way she looks when she blushes. It was cute. “Don’t worry about it, really.”

Ellie scoffs, taking a moment to catch her breath. Her heart had stopped for a second there.

“But…” You begin, and Ellie perks up. “I’m a pretty cool person outside of med clinic, so we could always hang out when I’m off. And I don’t look… shitty.”

Pfft, Ellie thinks. If this is you looking shitty, then shitty looks great on you.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She says quietly. “Uh, are you normally, like, busy, or…”

“No, not really.” You reply. “Most days I’m out of the clinic by dinnertime.”

“Oh.”

The conversation goes quiet again. You were worried; you didn’t want it to seem like an empty promise. So you look off to the side before mustering up the courage to ask.

“How about tomorrow?” You question. “We can meet back up here. If you’re not doing anything.”

She raises her eyebrows. Truthfully, she’s surprised that you asked. It would have taken her a thousand years just to man up and do it. Typical Ellie fashion.

“T-Tomorrow?” She asks.

“Yup. Sound good?”

Damn, you were cool. Ellie looks down, smiles, then nods. Her ears were becoming hot again.

“Okay, cool.” You backed away for a moment before grinning. You break into a slight jog, and she looks back up again. She can see your hand shooting into the air to wave at her.

“I look forward to our date!” You yell during your departure.

Ellie nearly passes out.

—

The next day, Ellie had gone back to the same spot as you said, promptly around dinnertime. But you were nowhere to be found.

Nor were you there the day after that, or the day after that.

At first she was confused. And then she became frustrated — no, annoyed. Why would you act so nice if you were just gonna leave her high and dry?

It’s not until a few days later, when she passes by a group of women on the street, that she discovers why.

“Have you heard about the new girl? The medic?” One of the women asks.

“Yes! I’ve heard she’s great,” The other chimes in. “But she’s been out sick. Stomach bug, they say.”

“Really?” The other replies. “Oh, I hope she gets better soon. The clinic is gonna struggle without her.”

Ellie immediately felt like shit. Here she was, writing herself off from ever looking your way again. And meanwhile, you were stuck at home, not at all by choice.

She had decided if you couldn’t show up to the date, then the date would just have to come to you.

So she spends all afternoon preparing a warm meal for you. She wraps it up carefully, and takes one of her favorite books. She tucks her journal in her backpack, too.

It takes her a while to find your house. It required a bit of asking around, especially considering how you joined the community not too long ago. But Ellie is persistent, and she eventually finds out where you live.

You stayed in a shed that was visibly transformed into a studio apartment. You had planted some daylily bunches along the short walkway leading to your door. A small gesture, but it brought life to your humble new home.

Underneath laid a coir mat. A small hanging plant hung near your porch light.

Ellie swallows softly before knocking three times. Her calloused hands cradle around the round container as she anticipates your answer.

But you don’t. And her heart drops again, as she places another sequence of knocks on your door. She feels uneasy — what if something happened to you?

Her thoughts come to a halt, though, when the door handle jiggles and you sleepily open up.

Ellie breathes a sigh of relief.

“E-Ellie?” You rubbed at your eyes. “Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

“I…” She clears her throat. “I heard you were sick. You okay?”

“Yeah, I was just about to go back to work tomorrow.” You sighed. “God, Ellie, I’m so sorry. We were supposed to hang out that day, and—“

“It’s fine,” She says quietly.

“I spent all day cleaning, and researching... trying to get back on my feet.” You look down at the bowl in her hands. “What’s that?”

“Oh, uh… it’s bean soup. Made it myself.” She grimaces. “It might not be that good, now that I think about it. I don’t cook often.”

You smile warmly, tugging at the hem of your oversized sweater.

“Thank you… that’s really sweet of you.”

She holds the container out, and you receive it with gentle hands. She shuffles her feet.

“I, uh…” She pulls at her backpack strap. “I brought something else for you, too, if that’s alright.”

“Of course!” You motion for her to come in. “Here, set it down inside.”

You turn, tucking your hair behind your ears as Ellie makes her way in. She closes the door behind her, examining the setup.

Some of your belongings were still in boxes, in the corners of the room. Most of it was unpacked — necessities, anyway.

You had accumulated a stack of medical textbooks during your initial supply run. You also had tons of rags, which she assumes is used to make bandages when you’re at work.

As for your decorations, she finds them intriguing. The rugs and posters you had up on the wall reflected your aura quite well.

“I’m sorry about the mess.” You added, taking the lid off of the soup. “I’ve still been trying to get settled.”

“You’re good,” She smiles. “I like it so far.”

You gleam back at her before beginning to sip on some of the broth. Her eyes widen as she slings her backpack off of her shoulder.

“Oh, right.” Her hand slides into her bag, and emerges with a thin comic book. “Have you ever seen this before?”

You shake your head.

“Savage Starlight.” She pinches the spine with her fingertips. “It’s… a pretty good comic book series.”

“You have more?” You ask.

“I have the whole collection,” She replies. “Back at my place. I’m kind of obsessed.”

You took another spoonful of soup, looking down into the bowl. “That’s really cool… I don’t think I’ve seen a comic book in ages.”

Ellie knew it was probably a dumb move. She had spent years collecting this entire series, and here she was, opening up about it to a stranger. But she wanted to trust you — she wanted to get to know you — and she couldn’t accomplish that without being a little vulnerable herself.

Ellie looks up for a moment, then sets the comic book down on the dining table. You raise your gaze.

“You can read it, if you want.”

“What?” You scrunch your brows. “No way. I mean, that’s part of your collection, right?”

“Yeah, but… you can just bring it back.” She shrugs. “No biggie.”

Truthfully, it was a biggie. Hauling it to your house was an ever conscious decision. But she’s also hoping it would give you an excuse to come see her from now on. If you liked the book, that is.

You sighed and waited a few seconds before looking up at Ellie.

“Let’s do a redo.” You blurt out.

“W-What?”

“Our date.” You clarify. “I wanna do a redo of our date.”

Ellie ponders, staring at you intently.

“It was supposed to be nice, and then I got sick, and I ruined it—“

“It’s fine, I swear—“

“And I just… I feel bad that you’re even here.” You look up at her. “I’m supposed to— to be the medic, yet you’re here taking care of me. We barely even met.”

Ellie looks down at her feet, kicking at the ground. And then, ever so softly, she mumbles:

“I like this.”

The air is still, and you can feel your heart swell in your chest. Just a little bit.

“I liked… coming here, and seeing that you’re okay. Even if it’s just for a day. ‘Cause nobody thinks about how, after everything you do, that you might need some help too. You know?”

She fixates her green eyes on you before resuming. “So just… please don’t say shit like that. Okay? I wanna get to know you.”

You didn’t know what to say, or how to respond. Even if you did, you probably couldn’t. Your heart was fluttering too fast in your chest.

“Shit… It’s getting dark,” She says after a moment. “I might start heading back.”

You nodded, rising from the dining table. You steadied yourself as she began heading for the door.

Ellie’s hand reaches for the handle, but then she pauses, and turns to face you.

“When you feel better.”

Your voice was softer than ever. It was your turn to be confused. “What?”

“Our date,” Ellie comments. “When you feel better, we’ll redo our date. You can come over to my place, and I’ll show you the rest of the collection there. Okay?”

You smiled.

“Okay.”

#ellie williams #ellie tlou2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #tlou2 fanfic #ellie tlou #the last of us #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff

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whenlilyfallsinlove · 19 days

Text

amortentia

fred weasley x ravenclaw reader. this is a quite short one sorryyyy!!

"AND CAPTAIN L/N HAS THE QUAFFLE, SHE SHOOTS AND SHE GETS PAST WOOD. SHE SCORES. 10 POINTS TO RAVENCLAW." lee jordan's dejected voice was heard from his commentating box.

you smile to yourself. you were captain of the ravenclaw quidditch team and you were absolutely determined to win the quidditch cup. you knew it was probably unlikely, gryffindor had harry potter who was a magnificent seeker, but secretly you thought your seeker cho was just as good.

"SAMUELS. INGLEBEE. BE RUTHLESS. THE WEASLEYS ARE!! STOP BEING POLITE." you order your beaters, to which they rolled their eyes but listened none the less.

fred weasley, one of the gryffindor beaters and someone you'd say you had a "playful rivalry" with, heard you say this.

"i knew you loved me really l/n." he shouted, smiling and then aiming a bludger at you.

you expertly dodged it and caught the quaffle from burrow, another chaser.

"you wish weasley." you zoomed past him and chucked the quaffle into the hoop.

"L/N SCORES AGAIN, ANOTHER TEN POINTS TO RAVENCLAW." lee shouted.

"i thought your team was supposed to be good, weasley." you smirk at him.

"shut up." fred scowls at you, and you grin.

your chat was however disrupted by harry potter, the gryffindor seeker, casting a patronum spell.

you turn to see some slytherin 3 years laying on the floor, gasping. you chuckle at the sight.

what you don't laugh at, however, is harry holding up the snitch, ending the match. gryffindor had won.

"i thought your team was supposed to be good l/n." fred mocked you.

"shut up." you flew back to the rest of your team, probably to give them a speech.

you were quite in awe at the patronus charm harry had produced, so you went over to him, whilst he was, no doubt, being praised by his teammates.

"good game wood." you look at the gryffindor captain.

"good game l/n." he nods back at you.

"you're not here to attack us, are you? for winning? ravenclaw can't win all the time, you know." fred asks you.

you roll your eyes playfully.

"whatever, i'm actually here to speak to harry. your patronus spell was incredible! how did you even do that?!" you smile at him, which catches fred off guard.

"o-oh uhh t-thank you, professor lupin taught me." harry blushed, not used to the female attention.

"it was brill." you gave him another smile.

"flirting with potter won't change the result of the match, love." fred smirked at you.

"i'm not.. you know what." you shake your head and walk back to you own team, not before you immaturely stuck your tongue out at fred before you left.

"unbelievable" fred muttered, but he was smiling.

"just admit you fancy her, mate." george nudged him

"never."

over the next week, you kept your head down, keeping a low profile, like you always did when you lost a match. you had a competitive nature, so of course you were annoyed.

you weren't looking forward to potions. sure you were good at it, but snape infuriated you. and you also shared a class with the gryffindors. fred weasley would be there, your "enemy". you groaned to yourself.

as you arrived, late, may you add, resulting in 10 points off ravenclaw, you had realised snape was putting people in pairs for the potions you'd be making.

"jordan and george weasley, johnson and spinnet, l/n and-"

you waited for whoever snape was going to pair you with.

"fred weasley."

"for godrics sake." you frowned. just your rotten luck.

you moved next to him, avoiding eye contact.

"we meet again" fred smirks.

"seems like you can't get enough of me." you respond.

"i-" his words were cut off by snape.

"today, we are going to be brewing amortentia. l/n, what is amortentia?"

"the most powerful love potion in the world, it's supposed to smell differently for every wizard." you respond.

"smart-arse" fred nudges you.

you roll your eyes, but you were smiling.

"quite vague, but correct l/n. it is the most powerful love potion in existence. you are all going to be brewing it today." snape instructs, and leaves you to work.

"weasley, get the pearl dust." you say, beginning to pour the ingredients already out in the cauldron.

"on it." he salutes and winks at you.

you shake your head and continue to work. when fred comes back, you are surprised in how much you were getting on.

"thats time up." snape points to you and fred. "you two, what can you smell?"

"i smell... i smell.. i don't bloody know, y/n move away from me, all i can smell is your shampoo." he frowned at you.

"don't be ridiculous, let me have a go.." you smell your potion.

"right fred, shift, your cologne is overbearing, it's all i can smell." you sigh.

the other students laugh, realising what was happening.

"that's all i need." you could've sworn you saw a hint of a smile on snape's face.

oh. oh. you had smelt fred in your amortentia. no way. you couldn't have. this was insane. but.. it made sense.

"looks like you fancy me l/n." fred grins, but you could see him blushing slightly.

"i think you're the one that fancies me." you respond, with a small smile.

he shakes his head.

"you caught me... look do you want to go to hogsmeade on saturday? i promise i won't tease you about us beating you."

and to your surprise, you found yourself saying yes.

#x reader #fanfic #short #fluff #enemies to lovers #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter x reader #snape #potions #amortentia

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justagalwhowrites · 3 months

Text

Yearling - Ch. 28: Newcomer

Life changes for you in Jackson. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-26 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst because duh. Canon-typical violence. Reference to past SA. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 14.1k (SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME TO CALM DOWN)

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

October, 2027

“Is everything OK?” You frowned as you watched as Savvy pushed her scrambled eggs from one side of her plate to the other, her head propped against her hand and a flat look on her face.

She shrugged and moved the pile of eggs again.

“Need to eat before school,” you said, not really paying much attention to your own plate.

“Why?” Savvy snapped, looking up at you. “So I can have energy to go sit in a chair all day? No thanks.”

You sighed, jaw tense, and set your fork down, crossing your arms and leaning on the table.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she looked back at her plate and moved the eggs again.

“I might be able to help,” you said, smiling a little at her from across the table. “Believe it or not, I was a teenager once, too. And life here isn’t all that different from the life I had when I was your age.”

“Yeah, so you’ve said,” she muttered, an edge in her voice.

You watched her for a moment, feeling more distant from your daughter than you ever had when she was physically so close.

Becoming a part of Jackson had been a rough transition for Savvy. It just had taken you a while to see it.

At first, you were so relieved to have her with you again that everything else was white noise.

For a bit, that day at the stables, you were rooted to the ground. You were afraid to move too far, like if you left that space she’d vanish again. You couldn’t bear to stop touching her to walk home, your arms around her shoulders and holding her body to yours the entire way.

She clung onto you, too, early on. There was so much she didn’t know and so much you didn’t know that she didn’t know. Things about life in Jackson that were innate to you - muscle memory from a time the crumbling world was forgetting - were completely foreign to her.

Savvy had the same problem with electricity you had when coming to town, sitting with her fingers in her ears when you weren’t talking for the first few days she was there. She was amazed by so much. She’d seen and read about things like stoves and refrigerators, showers and CD players but she’d never used them. It was like she existed outside of the modern era, approaching it all with skeptical caution as she adjusted to the reality she now lived in. You did your best to guide her through it, showing her everything and explaining how it worked as best you could.

The two of you didn’t leave the house the first week she was there. You didn’t need to, food boxes appearing again. It was a good thing, too, because you were too busy catching up on everything that had happened in the years you’d been apart and getting to know each other again to venture out.

Savvy had never been captured by Mitchum and his men. They’d gotten close to her once, one of his men the first person she ever killed. She managed to slip away but had to leave Nike behind.

After that, she wanted nothing to do with people. She knew how to run and how to hide, how to get away quick when she heard or sensed something coming. She had become an expert at being alone, living off the land, crossing all over the region so she was never in one place for long enough to tip off any of the more powerful groups. It was a miracle that Joel had found her at all.

Getting adjusted to the people of Jackson was a struggle. She’d only ever been around maybe half a dozen people at once before, when you’d run into a family making their way through your territory and you decided it was safe for her to meet them.

Here, there were hundreds.

“Why are there so many of them?” She asked quietly the first time you left the house, her arm looped with yours as you passed a cluster of kids running toward the playground, a haggard looking man chasing after them.

You frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“The people,” she said, watching the kids for a moment with a small frown on her face before looking back to you. “There’s… there’s so many of them. There’s not enough space here, how does everyone live here?”

You smiled a little.

“This is what people did all the time before,” you said. “People like us were the odd ones.”

She crinkled her nose.

“Maybe that’s why the world ended,” she said. “Not enough room for us all.”

“I think you’ll like people once you get to know them,” you said, giving her a little squeeze. “They’re good people here. And you always had fun playing with the kids we met before…”

“That was a long time ago,” she said, voice sharp.

“I know,” you said, trying not to let the hurt at the thought of your time with her being long ago now. “But you were always good with people. Definitely better than I was. I think you’ll like it, once you understand it.”

“Maybe,” she said, skeptical. “I don’t know. I just… I kind of like it. Being by myself.”

“That’s OK,” you replied. “Doesn’t mean you can’t like people, too.”

“Right,” she nodded, looking at the ground.

She really had not enjoyed starting school.

Savvy just came with you to the stables when you starred back at work again. She immediately bonded with the horses and spent an hour just standing next to Perseus, her head pressed against his large shoulder, her eyes closed.

You tried to not push her too fast or too far. You knew it was a big adjustment, that she would need time. But you also knew how important this time of her life was. She’d been totally alone for so long and you wanted more for her. She should have a chance to get to know kids her own age, to make friends, to fall in love, to have a life that she looked forward to and shared with people she cared about. Instead, she was hiding away.

So you brought her to meet Susan, the woman who taught most of the older kids in Jackson, one afternoon. She was sitting at her desk, papers in front of her and gray hair twisted into a knot on the top of her head with a pencil holding it in place. She smiled when you came in, Savvy against your side with her brows together and her features drawn tight. You were reminded of when she was a little girl and you were first teaching her how to kill. How she wanted so badly for things to stay the way they were.

“I thought I might be seeing you two soon,” she smiled and introduced herself and gestured for you to sit on the other side of her desk. “Why don’t we get to know each other a little bit?”

She asked Savvy a few questions and Savvy looked at you before answering each one, her hand tight on your knee, your hand in the middle of her back. Susan gave Savvy a few work sheets and pulled you aside while she did them.

“Do you have any idea what her skill level is?” She asked quietly. “I’ve never worked with a student who’s coming into this quite like she is…”

“I’m not sure,” you said, looking back toward the door that separated you from your daughter. “I tried my best when I was with her but I was never some great student, didn’t like school much and I never went to college, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing…”

Susan reached out, her touch catching you off guard and you had to fight not to jump, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You did everything you could,” she said. “No one would expect you to run an elementary school when trying to survive the end of the world. But students backslide over summer break let alone something like this. Years on her own not keeping up with what she was taught and no formal schooling to begin with… she might have a lot of ground to cover.”

You just nodded, trying not to blame yourself for whatever Savvy was missing. Even though you knew, deep down, it was your fault.

But she hadn’t let her skills totally lapse in the last few years. When she stopped and checked houses and stores for clothes and shelf stable food, she also found books to read and something to write in. Her language skills were advanced and she had a good understanding of biology. But her math was rudimentary at best and her history knowledge was spotty, limited to areas that had caught your attention or hers through the years.

“I can put her with the other kids her age,” Susan said, her voice low as Savvy browsed the book shelves at the back of the classroom. “We’ll see how she does. I’m more worried about the socialization than I am anything academic. She’s not used to being around her peers or more than one or two other people at a time, it might be a lot for her…”

“Do you think it would be better if I kept her home?” You asked, the sting of tears at the back of your throat. What if you’d doomed your daughter to a life of loneliness because you hadn’t sought out a place like Jackson when she was little? What if she never had a chance to experience things beyond just survival because you’d kept her away from it?

“No,” Susan said, more definitively than you’d expected. “But it might be better to… ease her into the school experience. Just an hour or two at first and build up to it, plan to have her join during quieter periods when there’s lecture and not group work quite yet, that sort of thing.”

You nodded slowly, jaw tight as you watched Savvy pick a book off the shelf and turn it over to read the back. Susan rested her hand gently on your shoulder, making you jump and look back at her. She didn’t seem to notice.

“Children are resilient,” she said gently. “They adjust and adapt. She will be OK.”

You nodded, a few tears slipping free.

“Mom?” Savvy called.

You quickly dried the tears and sniffed.

“Yeah?”

“Can I bring this home?” She came over and handed you the book. It was Little Women. “It sounds good…”

“It is good,” you said, clearing your throat and hoping she couldn’t hear the change in your voice. “But it’s not my book to lend, you’ll have to ask Ms. Parker.”

“Right,” she said, turning to her but looking more to the side than directly at her. “Is it OK?”

“Promise you’ll bring it back when you come to my classes?” Susan asked, smiling and trying to meet her eyes. “And that you’ll take good care of it?”

Savvy just nodded.

“Then yes,” she said. “You can borrow it.”

She smiled tightly and turned to go before you stopped her.

“Savvy,” you said. Like you, she’d forgotten what it was like to interact with other people after being totally alone for so long. You’d taught her please and thank you when she was little but, once it was just her and the animals, the habit had slipped away.

“Right,” she said, turning back and actually looking at Susan this time. “Thank you.”

Susan smiled.

“You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy it and I’ll see you soon in class.”

Savvy looked to you and you put your arm around her waist and guided her home.

She’d taken pretty well to school, all things considered. She liked to learn and was an engaged student, according to Susan. But she got bored easily and wasn’t the most tolerant of other students’ tendencies to goof off or talk during class. She also didn’t understand when the other kids teased her.

Sean, one of the older boys, sneered at her once and called her the wild girl.

“So?” Savvy had frowned.

“You’re not civilized,” he’d said. “Shouldn’t be here with us humans, should be out there with the fucking animals…”

You only knew about it at all because Ellie overheard the incident and handled it herself.

“Ellie!” You’d gaped at her when she told you as she leaned against the stall you were in. “What did you do?”

“Beat the shit out of him until he went home to cry to his mommy,” she sneered the last word, mocking and righteous.

You weren’t sure whether you wanted to hug her or scold her.

“You’re an adult now,” you said, going back to brushing down Shimmer. “You really shouldn’t beat up children…”

“OK first of all, he’s 16,” she said. “Second, he’s got a foot on me, not my problem if he’s a little bitch…”

“And thank you,” you cut her off. “For protecting her.”

She just shrugged.

“I was the wild girl once,” she said. “Sucks sometimes.”

“She OK?” You asked, realizing that you’d never thought you’d need to navigate things like bullies with Savvy until that moment.

“Fine,” Ellie shrugged again. “She didn’t seem that bothered by it, actually. Pissed me off more than her.”

You nodded slowly.

“I can introduce her to some people who don’t fucking suck,” Ellie said after a minute. “And she can come hang out with me and Dina and Jesse sometimes.”

“Isn’t she a little young to be running around with y’all?” You frowned.

“Not really,” Ellie shrugged. “And we won’t let her get into too much trouble.”

You sighed, brush frozen on Shimmer’s side. The horse huffed, turning back to look at you, a sense of judgement in her eyes.

“Try not to be a bad influence on my kid,” you said, glancing at Ellie, who smirked.

“Bad influence? Me? Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Ellie did introduce her to some of the older kids who were still in school and Savvy started staying after school to hang out with them a few times per week. There was one boy, Kyle, who she started talking about a lot, a small smile tugging at her lips when she did.

She also started going to movie nights and even to the mess hall with people besides you, easing into knowing people. She even slept over at Ellie’s once, leaving you anxiously pacing your house all night, not able to shake the feeling that she should be here and she wasn’t. There was the lingering thought that, maybe, you’d only ever imagined her coming back at all and you’d been alone all this time. You left the lamp on by the front door for the first time since she’d come back and you slept on the couch, waking with a jolt when she came home the next morning.

But she’d started pushing back against you for the last two weeks. She answered questions in as few words as possible, she pushed her curfew when she went out with her friends, she snapped at you when you asked her to help around the house.

You were taken aback by it. You’d never had conflict like this with her before. Of course, it was hard for her to rebel much when there was nothing else for her to rebel WITH, no other people or forbidden substances to act out with. But she’d also only been 11 when you’d been taken. She was 15 now. You weren’t sure how much would have always happened this way and how much she was picking up now that she was around other teenagers.

“Do you not want to go to school anymore?” You asked gently from across the table. Her hair was extra wild today, her all but shoving you away when you tried to braid it before heading to the mess hall for breakfast. She’d refused all attempts to contain it, curls springing in every direction.

“Is that what I said?” She asked, raising her eyebrows at you.

“No,” you said. “But I’m trying to understand how you’re feeling, honey. I can tell you’re upset by something and…”

“Were you ever going to tell me about you and Joel?” She snapped.

Your heart stuttered.

“What?”

“You and Joel,” she said. “You were together, right? Were you ever going to tell me about that?”

“I… I don’t…” you just blinked for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. “Where did you hear about that?”

“Something Ellie said tipped me off,” she replied. “Don’t think she realized she was giving away some big secret…”

“It’s not a secret, honey, it’s just…” you sighed. “It’s not… it’s not important right now, you’re what’s important and…”

“Am I?” She smacked her fork down on the table hard enough that you startled away from the sound. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, chest getting tight. “Savvy, you’re the most important…”

“Did you even try to find me?” She cut you off. Her eyes were glistening and her face was drawn, tight and hurt. “Did you even bother to really look? Because I looked for you. I looked for you for years, Mom! I searched and I searched and I thought I’d find you eventually. I thought you must have really been hurt to have not come and found me so I needed to find you because my mom would never have just left me like that.

“After a while, I thought you must have died, that’s the only thing I thought would have kept you from finding me again,” she kept going, voice a little louder, the people around you at the mess hall awkwardly glancing away. “And that hurt and I missed you and I felt… I felt so guilty about that because I knew that if I just hadn’t been there you’d still be alive and you were only gone because of me and that was the only thing that would have kept you away from me. But I was wrong, you were just… you were here the whole time, here having some happy life with some man like you had before and… did you forget about me? Once you found this place was I just nothing to you anymore?”

“No!” You just gaped at her from across the table. “No, that’s not what happened, that’s not at all…”

“I have school,” she stood up, picking up her plate of half eaten eggs as she did.

“No,” you shook your head, standing up, too. “No, we need to talk about this, if this is how you’ve been feeling, we can go home and…”

“Do you want me to go learn freaking algebra or not?” She snapped. “You’re the one who says it’s so important, is it important or not?”

“It is, but…”

“Then I’ll see you later,” she said, a little quieter and calmer now. “Besides… I don’t think I want to hear what you have to say right now, anyway.”

You just stood there, watching your daughter stalk off toward the school.

It was hard to focus at the stable that day. You kept looking up, hoping Savvy would come in. You weren’t sure if it would have been better to chase after her or give her space and you tried to remember what you would have wanted from your mother when you fought with her but your relationship with Savvy had never felt like your relationship with your mother. You felt so different from your mother that you sometimes wondered if you’d been traded at the hospital, another girl out there in the world who loved all the things she did living the life you were supposed to have. But Savvy had always felt like another part of yourself, independent but never fully separate.

“You caused a ruckus this morning,” Julie said when she came by the stable in the afternoon. You sighed and she perched on the wall of a stall before handing you an apple. You took a bite of it and sighed, leaning next to her.

“Heard about that, huh?” You asked, turning the fruit in your hand.

“Think the whole town has,” Julie took out an apple of her own. “Sorry.”

“Shouldn’t be too surprised,” You sighed.

“Want to talk about it?” She asked.

“Yes, in great detail,” you said sarcastically. You were thankful for Julie in that moment, though. After Savvy had come to Jackson, Julie had reached out to check in on you and, in spite of the awkward moment in the orchard outside of town, you’d grown to be friends. Which was something that you’d sorely needed as you navigated this unknown landscape of your new relationship with Savvy.

Julie snorted.

“Yeah, should have known better than to ask that. You OK?”

“I just wish I knew what to do,” you sighed. “I don’t know what she needs, I don’t know how to make her feel better, I don’t know how to make her understand…”

You pinched the bridge of your nose for a moment, sighing again.

“She’s a teenager,” Julie said kindly after you were quiet for a second. “Teenagers are hard. You remember being a teenager…”

“Not as well as you do,” you teased and she rolled her eyes.

“Yes, yes, you’re very old,” she teased back before turning serious. “She might just need space. She’ll get past it. They always do.”

You just nodded as Persephone nudged you with her large head and you surrendered the last of your apple to her.

“I just don’t want to lose her,” you said, petting the horse’s velvet nose as she chewed. “I lost so much time already, I don’t want to lose any more…”

“I know,” she said gently. “She will come around. I know she will. And in the mean time, we can drink about it.”

You laughed.

“Yeah, think I might need that.”

Julie hung out at the stable for a bit as you shoed a horse, talking to you about the date she’d gone on the day before with Karen, which had surprised you.

“Karen? Really? Wouldn’t have thought…”

“Yup,” Julie smirked a little. “What can I say, I have a good eye.”

“Are you just turning the women of Jackson?” You teased. “Wasn’t it Beth last month?”

“Maybe I am,” she teased back. “Someone needs to, Beth went out with Henry for like two months. Fucking Henry. It might be the apocalypse but options aren’t really THAT limited…”

It was a nice distraction, listening to her talk about her love life and the petty property line war happening between two of her neighbors as they went back and forth about whether or not one of their clothes lines pushed into the other’s yard and the new cocktail she was planning to roll out soon at the Tipsy Bison.

“She really will come around,” she said, dropping all pretense as she got ready to go get changed for her bartending shift. “You two love each other. She’ll understand eventually.”

You just smiled tightly.

“Thanks,” you said. “It really does help…”

“That’s what friends are for,” she said. “And if you come by the Bison tonight, I’ll even let you be one of the first to try the new drink. Take your mind off of family trouble, guaranteed.”

You laughed a little.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

You finished up early at the stable and, instead of heading for the mess hall like you normally would, you went home, hoping that Savvy would be there. But it was quiet when you came in and you sighed.

“Savvy?” You called anyway, hoping she would answer.

You took off your boots and went upstairs, knocking on her bedroom door all the same. She didn’t answer then, either.

So you took a shower, trying to not linger on what she said that morning. How she thought you’d abandoned her, forgotten her, thought that there was anything in the world that was as important as her.

You’d never told her about Mitchum. It didn’t feel right, you didn’t want her to have that in her head. But you weren’t sure how to explain your absence without it. It had never occurred to you that she would think you chose to be apart from her, as though you’d choose anything over being with her. But she did.

The chill of fall was settling in so you actually dried your hair before getting dressed and seeing if, maybe, Savvy had come home while you were in the shower. You went back to her bedroom door and just happened to look down as you went to knock. There was just a bit of paper poking out from below the door. You frowned and picked it up, pulling it out from below the door. On the paper was a note in Savvy’s haphazard scrawl.

Need space, it said. Find you eventually.

“No,” you breathed and flung her door open without bothering to knock.

Her bedroom was neat and organized and everything that she’d brought with her that she considered hers was gone. All her clothes, her backpack, the books that were on her nightstand, the carvings that she’d made. All that was left in the room that hadn’t been there when you moved in were two small carvings you’d made her: two deer, one large and one small. Both were rough, the limbs not quite the right proportions, but you’d been happy to make them, sitting next to her on your porch while you both worked in a way you’d never really done before.

“Well, I’m still learning,” you’d said, putting the figures in her open palm a few weeks earlier, before this cold distance had started growing between you. “And I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as you, you’re just a natural…”

“No, they’re really good, Mom,” she’d smiled. “I love them!”

They were there on her nightstand, the larger one knocked on its side as though the table had been jostled on her way out the door.

“No,” you shook your head, heart racing. “No, no, no, no, no…”

You took off, going two stairs at a time. She was gone, she’d left, she’d taken her things and left and you hadn’t even been able to find her the first time and she was gone and this time she chose it and Joel had been the one to find her last time, not you. Joel found her once. He could find her again.

You ran to Joel’s so fast you didn’t even close the door behind you as you left. The sun was setting and you almost ran into a couple walking home hand in hand as you careened around the corner. You barely even paused at Joel’s door, the fear and warning signs that usually took hold this close to his house buried deep below a fresh horror that your mind couldn’t wrap itself around yet. You ripped the screen door open and went to grab the knob of the main door when it opened before you touched it, Joel standing there in his boots, jacket half on.

“Bambi…”

“She’s gone,” you panted for breath. “Joel, she’s gone, she left, she left a note and took her things and I need your help, please, I need your help, I’ll never ask you for another thing, I promise I…”

“Bambi,” he said again, voice gentle. His big hands gently cupped your shoulders and pulled you inside. “It’s OK, I know, she’s here, she’s OK…”

“She’s here?” You grabbed his arms fingernails digging into the thick muscle of his biceps as you searched his face. “What do… she’s here?”

“She’s here,” he said again slowly, carefully. “She’s alright, I was just about to go find you and tell you so you wouldn’t worry. Need you to take a deep breath for me sweetheart, you’re gonna pass out if you’re not careful…”

You just nodded and let him guide you to the couch, your hands still clutching onto him. Standing on your own felt uncertain, like you were newly shaped and your legs at risk of collapse under the weight of yourself. Ellie came out of the kitchen, her arms crossed over her chest, a worried look on her face.

“Where is she?” You asked, looking from Joel to Ellie. “If she’s here…”

“She’s at my place,” Ellie said, shifting awkwardly, putting her hands in her back pockets. “She was really upset, she was there when I got home… I told her I was going to get us something to eat, I should get back…”

“Is she OK?” You asked, moving to stand but Joel held you in place. “Can I see her? I need to see her…”

“That’s probably not a good idea right this minute sweetheart,” Joel said. He sounded so calm.

“I need to see my daughter,” you looked at him, heart racing again. “You can’t… she’s my daughter, I need to see her, you can’t just keep me from her, she…”

“Not keeping you from her,” Joel cut you off. “But it sounds like she’s hurtin’ right now…”

“So you need to let me see her!” You yelled and Ellie’s eyes got wide, glancing quickly to the back door. “If she’s hurt I need to take care of her, she’s my child she’s not…”

“I know,” Joel said. “Physically, she’s fine. She’s upset, her feelings are hurt. Goin’ after her right this second might just make things worse. Think you need to give her some space.”

“I’ll look out for her,” Ellie said quietly. “I’m sure she’ll get over it quick but… I’ll look out for her. At least for tonight, Bambi. She’s… It’s like how I was with Joel. If you push her too far she might not stay with us and I don’t know if we could stop her if she decided to go, she’s stubborn as hell.”

“She’s OK,” Joel said, his hands still firmly on your shoulders. “She’s safe, she’s with Ellie. She’s alright.”

You just nodded and tried to breathe through it. Joel turned Ellie, still holding onto you. You were thankful for that, his hands a grounding force that were holding you inside yourself. It seemed like you might split into disparate beings without him.

“Why don’t you get on back, baby girl,” he said to Ellie. “Take some of the leftovers from the fridge, keep an eye on her. Don’t let her go anywhere alone, OK?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I will. I’ll take care of her, Bambi. I really will.”

You nodded again and closed your eyes, listening as Ellie gathered things from the kitchen, the back door slamming behind her. You took a deep, shaky breath and opened your eyes again, lashes wet.

“Joel,” you said, voice thick.

“Gonna hold you,” he said gently. “That OK?”

You trembled and nodded and he pulled you against his broad chest and you collapsed against him, sobbing so hard you couldn’t breathe.

“You’re alright,” he said gently, one thick arm looping around your waist, the other going around your shoulder so his hand could cradle your head to him. “She’s OK, you’re both alright…”

You clung to him, your arms snaking up his back, fingers clutching so hard at his shoulder blades that part of you was worried you were hurting him but you couldn’t make yourself stop. It was a struggle to breathe through your tears, gulping in air that smelled like Joel’s skin and cedar and laundry soap. It was like your body forgot to be afraid of him now, so desperate for something to hold on to that it didn’t matter anymore.

His hand traced a slow, soft pattern from your hair down your spine before starting over again and you felt his lips press into the crown of your head, lingering there as you shook in his arms.

“Shhh,” he soothed, starting to rock you gently. “S’alright. I’ve got you and her, you’re alright.”

He said it over and over and you concentrated on the rise and fall of his chest, the smell of his skin, the gentle motion of him. Eventually, you quieted, hiccuping as your tears slowed and your breaths caught up with your body. His rocking slowed, too, but he kept holding onto you, his nose nestled in your hair until your grip on him loosened and he relaxed as you sat back from him.

“You with me?” He asked gently, one hand still loosely on your arm. He went to take his hand back but you caught it and he froze.

“I’m sorry but…” You fought to not hyperventilate again. “If… can you…”

“Do whatever you want with me, sweetheart,” he said and you nodded, moving so you were tucked against his side and your head was on his chest. He sat, stock still, as you guided his arm around your waist and you pressed yourself closer. It felt better with him here like this. He’d brought Savvy home, he’d take care of her, you could trust that. You could trust him.

“What happened?” He asked quietly after you’d settled against him.

“She found out that we were together,” you said, your voice raw. “And she just… she thinks I forgot about her, that I was just here and happy with you the whole time she was out there alone and…”

“You didn’t tell her what happened to you?” He asked softly.

“No,” you shook your head into his chest.

“Baby…”

“She’s 15,” you said softly. “She doesn’t know how bad it is out there, she didn’t grow up with shit like girls before, she never had to learn to be afraid of men. I still remember the first time a grown man grabbed my ass when I walked by and I was 13 and I don’t… she doesn’t need to know about all that, Joel. I don’t want her to know about that and I don’t want her to look at me and think about that, she can’t…”

“She should know that you tried,” he said, his hand going in a slow, easy path from your shoulder to your elbow. “She should know that you fought for her.”

“I don’t want her to know,” you whispered, tears slipping from you again even though it seemed like you shouldn’t have any more left in you. “Please, I can talk to her some other way, please don’t tell her, please…”

“Won’t tell her,” he said gently. “S’OK Bambi.”

You remembered the look on her face this morning, the anger and the hurt there and you pressed a strangled sob into Joel’s chest as he held you closer.

“She hates me,” your voice shook. “And I don’t blame her, I should’ve tried harder, I gave up on her, I let him lie to me and…”

“You did everything you could,” Joel cut you off. “And you protected her. She was alone out there but she survived because you let her escape and you taught her what she needed to know so she could live. You did everything you could, baby, everything.”

You nodded, even though you didn’t really believe it, and curled in on yourself, your whole body against him now.

“Can I stay here tonight?” You asked softly. “I don’t want to be far from her, I can’t…”

“Course,” Joel said. “I’ll go make up the bed for you, you can stay there, I’ll take the couch…”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I want to be down here, if she comes inside…”

“OK,” he said gently. “Want me to stay with you?”

“Please,” your fingers tangled in his flannel.

“OK,” he said again. He just held you for a while before getting some blankets and a pillow out of a cupboard you didn’t remember holding them before and you realized it had been almost half a year since you’d been in Joel’s house. Things about it had changed. So much time had passed but really, none at all. Joel got you water and made you drink two tall glasses of it and eat an apple before he stretched out on the couch and you folded yourself in around him. It had been months but your body still remembered how to wrap around his to sleep, where your head fit best against his chest, how your leg best hitched over his, how his arm draped over you.

“I can’t lose her, Joel,” you whispered into the dark. “I can’t, not again. I have to fix this.”

“It’ll be OK,” he said, his fingers trailing over your bicep. “She’ll understand. Don’t give up, it’ll be OK.”

The next morning, Ellie came to the kitchen with the excuse of needing tea and found you and Joel still asleep on the couch. She assured you that Savvy was still there and had asked to stay for a while. Ellie had already said yes.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, head still fuzzy from sleep and the emotional turmoil the night before.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Joel said as Ellie headed out. You opened your mouth to fight him on it but he held up a palm, silencing you. “Just to lay down some ground rules. Not gonna tell her she needs to go back to yours or tell her anything about what happened to you. Just gotta set some expectations, that’s all. OK?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Yeah, OK…”

He got you more water and draped the blanket around your hunched shoulders before he went back to Ellie’s. It felt like he was gone an eternity before he came back, settling in beside you on the couch again. His hand found the middle of your back, moving over you in slow, soothing circles.

“She’s still pretty pissed,” he said softly. You nodded. “Told her she can stay as long as she wants but no boys spending the night, needs to go to school every day and show me her progress, she’s gotta eat three meals a day and be in for the night by 9 every night.”

You nodded, your fingers knotting and twisting together.

“OK,” you said. “That’s… that’s good, she’ll go for that, I think.”

“Seemed receptive,” he said. “She’s a good kid, raised her right. She’ll come around. It’ll be OK.”

You nodded and pressed your face into his shoulder, letting his soft flannel soak up your tears yet again.

It was the start of a new kind of friendship with Joel. You came by every day now after you were done at the stable, Joel giving you a report on Savvy, both what she told you and how she seemed. He said he was trying to gently nudge her into talking to you again but she got worked up when you were mentioned.

“Don’t push her,” you said after you’d been in this strange limbo with your daughter for two weeks. You’d hardly slept or eaten and you could feel yourself starting to almost seep out of your body, little pieces floating away into the ether the longer you were separated from her when she was so close. You wondered how Joel had survived it as long as he did with Ellie. “I don’t want to hurt her any more than I have…”

“Should think about telling her, Baby,” Joel said softly.

“I know you think so,” you said, arms crossed tight over your chest. “But… I can get her back without that, she doesn’t… she doesn’t need all that in her head, Joel, she doesn’t.”

He nodded slowly and sighed as you headed back to your cold, almost empty house.

When it had become clear that Savvy wasn’t going to come home in just a day or two, you’d gone to where the working dogs of Jackson lived and asked to bring Gattling home with you. You’d been so excited to see her once you could actually wrap your head around the fact that she’d come back with Savvy, too, but she’d always been a working dog. She was used to having something to do all day everyday and you knew she’d be happier helping on guard duty or protect the livestock with regular visits from you and Savvy. Now, though, you picked her up on your way home so you wouldn’t be alone.

That was an adjustment, too. Gattling was cagey around you when she first came to Jackson, skeptical of you even though she clearly remembered you. But she’d warmed up to you again now and greeted you with a wagging tail every night. She followed you obediently around your house and curled up next to you in bed, sighing her heavy dog sighs as she settled in to sleep and you thought that this was what life had been for your daughter for the past four years. Having no one but her horse and her dog because you’d left her to fend for herself in the wilderness.

It took until November for you to feel at all adjusted to this new way of things with Savvy. You saw her in the mess hall, scheduling your day so that you had the best chance at seeing her in the morning or the evening, just to catch a glimpse of her and see that she was whole and happy. You tried to catch her eye and hoped she’d do something besides glare at you eventually, that you’d be able to actually talk to her at some point. It hadn’t happened yet.

But you couldn’t let yourself completely break down into nothing.You knew that. So you started trying to eat something and tried to do beyond the bare minimum in your day. Julie came by in the afternoon and you took a walk. You talked to Joel about something outside of Savvy. You even played your guitar - though you made the mistake of playing Sweet Child of Mine and dissolved into tears, Gattling licking your face and whimpering as you lay curled on the cool wood of your living room floor.

You’d found a semblance of a life again, taking comfort in knowing that Savvy was alive and healthy, even if you didn’t get to hear her voice or see her smile. You were focusing on that in the afternoon when you heard Ellie coming toward the stables, her voice oddly chipper and friendly, odd enough that you frowned and watched the doors as she came in, hoof pick in your hand as you worked on shoeing a horse.

“Stables are here,” Ellie said, leading a man who had to be close to Joel’s height inside. “You’re starting up patrol and if you end up in the regular rotation, you’ll probably be here a lot and you’ll get assigned a regular horse to take out. I usually go on Shimmer… Oh, that’s Bambi, she runs the place.”

The man turned so that you could see his face and you froze, grip on the pick tightening.

You were surprised you hadn’t recognized him from behind. You always thought you’d know him immediately, sense when he was even remotely close to you. But he’d made it here, to the heart of Jackson, into your stables, and you hadn’t known. You’d heard that someone had come in with a patrol the week before but you hadn’t heard a name or seen anyone new in town since then. You weren’t worried about it, you had enough else on your mind without concerning yourself with a new arrival.

But you should have been. You should have been very worried.

“Bambi,” Ellie smiled brightly, leading the newcomer toward you. You lowered Ares’ hoof slowly to the ground and shifted the hoof pick to your left hand, holding it so tight you were sure your knuckles were white. “This is Cody, he’s going to start out on patrol soon, he’s going out with Joel soon…”

He stood there, looking at you, his jaw tight for a moment. After what felt like a small eternity, he held out his hand.

“Bambi, is it?” He asked. “Nice to meet you.”

You didn’t take his hand. The thought of touching him turned your stomach.

“Ellie,” you said, not taking your eyes off him. “Shimmer is out in the paddock, do me a favor and take her around once, make sure she’s walking OK after I shoed her and bring her in.”

“What?” Ellie laughed a little. “I’m kind of in the middle of…”

“It can wait,” you snapped, still watching him. “I can introduce him to a horse, do what I’m telling you to do.”

“Alright, Jesus,” she muttered, stomping off to obey. Cody watched her go before turning to you.

“Good to see you,” he smiled a little. “Wasn’t sure if you’d actually made it…”

He moved to close the gap between you and you stepped back on instinct, your heart beating so fast it drowned out the sound of his voice. You could remember exactly how he felt inside of you, how his breath felt on your skin, the self righteous look on his face because he thought he was better than the others because he didn’t get off on hurting you. Your head spun.

“Stay the fuck back,” you hissed, adjusting your grip on the hoof pick.

He frowned. “Why? Come on, you know I’m not dangerous…”

“Like fuck I know that,” you snapped. “You’re just as dangerous as the rest of them. What, are you here to do recon?”

“No,” he snapped. “I left.”

“Good for you,” you said. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

“Don’t think that’s the way you want to talk to the guy who saved your life,” he said, eyes narrowing. “Feel like you owe me a little more than that…”

“Don’t owe you a goddamn thing,” you said. “Didn’t kill you that night. Far as I’m concerned? Life for a life, we’re even.”

That was a lie but he didn’t need to know that. You wished you could bring yourself to kill him but you didn’t think you could. He had saved your life, had been kinder to you than most of Mitchum’s men even if he had hurt you. You weren’t sure if he deserved to die, you didn’t think you could handle killing him.

“Hardly counts as even,” he said, taking a step toward you. “You know I wasn’t like them, you know I was different…”

Another step and something inside you snapped. It didn’t matter that you were in Jackson, that he had saved your life by getting you away from Mitchum, Cody was a threat. You knew what he was capable of and he was here with you and your daughters.

You met him in the middle, catching him off guard. He moved to touch you in some way - hug you, grab you, you weren’t sure - and you threw your left arm over his throat, your right into his chest, shoving him back against a stall, putting one knee between his legs so you could hit him in the groin if he tried to move and pressed the tip of the dirty hoof pick to his throat.

“What the fuck!” He yelped, his chest heaving.

“Gonna give you this one warning,” you said through clenched teeth. “You stay away from me, you stay away from my girls. I catch you even glancing their way, let alone talking to or touching one of ‘em? I will rip your goddamn throat out, do you understand me?”

“How am I supposed to know who your girls…”

“Any girl here,” you seethed. Your stomach turned at your body being so close to his but you forced yourself to stay on him, keep the pick pressed to his throat. “But Ellie and the girl she lives with? They’re mine and if you think the fact that I owe you my life would save you if you touched them, you got another thing comin’.”

You heard the scrape of the door and you stepped back from him, chest heaving, lowering the pick. He stayed back against the stall, his eyes wide and darting from you to the door.

“She’s walking fine,” Ellie said, leading Shimmer in from the paddock. “Don’t know why you were worried, anyone knows how to shoe a damn horse around here, it’s you.”

She put Shimmer in her stall and went toward Cody but you stepped in front of her, putting your arm out to keep her behind you. Cody’s eyes narrowed.

“What…” Ellie began but you cut her off.

“You supposed to show him anything else?” You asked, not looking back at her and keeping your eyes on Cody.

“Just here,” she said. “How the stables work, shit like that. But…”

“I think he’s fine from here,” you cut her off again. “Why don’t you go to the school, walk Savvy home.”

“Bambi?”

“Go, Ellie,” you snapped.

“Fine, Jesus,” she muttered just as Joel came in and she ducked around him. Your eyes darted his way but you looked back at Cody almost immediately, not willing to let him out of your sight. You saw Ellie go out of the corner of your eye, keeping Cody pinned to where he was with your gaze. Your grip was still tight on the pick.

You could feel Joel’s eyes on you as he moved slowly to stand at your back. You could feel him there, close behind you at your shoulder, the heat and strength of him there.

“Everything alright here?” He asked, his voice deep, empty of the warmth you’d come to associate with him.

“Fine,” Cody said, his eyes darting up to Joel before going back to you.

“He was just leaving,” you said. “Weren’t you.”

He just looked at you for a long moment.

“Yeah,” he said eventually. “I was.”

“Better get moving then,” Joel said, dark and dangerous, like every word was a threat.

Cody kept his eyes on Joel then, slowly moving around you, staying out of arm’s reach until he had a clear path to the door. Only then did he turn his back to you, putting his hands in his pockets and closing the door behind him.

The second he was gone, the pick slipped from your fingers and hit the concrete of the stable floor with a clatter. You couldn’t breathe. It took you a moment to realize you were shaking, your heart racing. You clutched at your chest and stumbled to the stall you’d thrown Cody into, collapsing against it as you struggled to get enough air.

Here. Cody was here, in Jackson. He knew you, he knew where you were, he’d been with Ellie, he was where Savvy was…

“Bambi,” Joel’s hands were on you, one at your ribs and the other taking yours, his thick, long fingers closing around your own completely. “Gotta breathe for me, baby, gotta breathe through it…”

You just nodded and tried to listen but it wasn’t working.

“Here,” he said, guiding your hand to his chest and holding it there. “Match me, OK? Gonna push everything out first…” you exhaled with him, nodding as you did. “Now in.”

He breathed in slow and deep and you tried to keep pace with him, focusing on how he felt next to you, his heartbeat below your hand, the warmth of his body.

“Talk to me,” he said once your breaths had slowed and your shaking had eased. He stopped holding your hand to his chest but you left it there, holding onto him. “What’s wrong, what did he do? He touch you?”

“No,” you shook your head, taking a deep, shaky breath. “No, he didn’t touch me. It’s fine, it’s OK…”

“He did something,” Joel said and you looked up at him, into those soft, brown eyes that had been home for so long and you missed him. You missed him so much you thought your chest might crack open with it, the ache in your heart too big to be contained by your skin and ribs. You missed how safe you felt with him, how much he felt like home. You moved slowly, cautiously, until your arms were looped around his waist. He hesitated and then he was enveloping you, clutching you close and tight and you could hear his heart racing in his chest. You felt his lips and nose brush the top of your head before he tucked you below his chin, his large hand cradling your skull as though you were some precious, treasured thing.

“Talk to me,” he said again, quietly, holding you closer. “What’d he do? You can tell me, I’ll handle it…”

“Nothing that you can handle,” you said, your voice thick.

“Watch me.”

“Joel,” you nuzzled closer to him and breathed deep.

“Tell me,” he said. “Let me help you, take care of you. Please.”

You just held onto him, focusing on him as he swayed just a little with you, almost like you would rock a restless child.

“He one of them?” He asked eventually, deathly quiet.

You pulled back from him ever so slightly, looking up into his eyes and you watched the warmth slip away from them as he answered the question for himself.

“I’ll kill him.”

“No,” you shook your head, holding him tighter. “No, you can’t…”

“Why,” he was straining to stay calm, you could feel it in his body. “Don’t matter that he’s here, I’ll kill him in the street like the goddamn animal he is…”

“He saved my life,” you said. “He… he hurt me but I wouldn’t be here without him, he got me out, I owe him my life, I can’t… he can’t die because of me. I told him he needs to stay away from Ellie, from Savvy…”

“Baby,” he breathed holding your face in his hand and you closed your eyes, trying to stay focused on him and not lose yourself to the panic that was still at the edges.

“I’ve handled it, Joel,” you said after a moment, opening your eyes. He was still watching you intently. “If he tries something with them I’ll kill him myself but you can’t kill him, Joel. Not now. He can’t die because of me, not after he saved my life. I can’t live with that. Please.”

He sighed and pulled your head into his chest, his cheek pressing into you.

“Won’t kill him,” Joel said. “But I should. And I swear to God he even glances at you or the girls I will rip him apart. I’m sorry, baby, but I will.”

You just nodded into his chest and he held you close and you wished you had one of his shirts again so you could wrap yourself in the scent of him and keep his warmth and safety close when he left.

Ares’ large head nudged your shoulder and he huffed and you laughed, separating from Joel enough to see him there, one hoof off balance from the others.

“Right,” you laughed and sniffed a little. “I was shoeing you before we were interrupted, wasn’t I?”

His head bobbed once in what you’d call a nod if you didn’t know better and you dried your cheeks with the back of your sleeve, separating from Joel and picking the hoof pick up from where you’d dropped it in your panic.

“Thank you,” you said to him quietly.

“Course.”

“Not just for this,” you said. “For everything the last few weeks. With Savvy. I don’t… I don’t know if I could have gotten through it on my own and…”

“Always gonna look out for you,” Joel said. “Doesn’t matter if we’re not… Always going to take care of you how I can.”

You nodded and he cleared his throat awkwardly, looking to the side at nothing.

“Should probably get back,” he said. “I was just passin’ by, thought I’d… I dunno, say hi. Or… somethin’. Didn’t have any business here… Anyway. I’ll see you tonight, give you the Savvy update after I check in with her.”

You nodded again and he gave you a sad, tight smile before leaving you to your work.

***

It took everything Joel had inside himself to not go find Cody and kill him.

He’d seen the man a few times as he was introduced around town and he’d seemed decent enough. Tommy had been encouraged by his shooting test results, happy to have another skilled man out on patrol.

Fuck, how was he supposed to let this man come back from patrol alive?

He’d hurt you. He terrified you, that much was clear. Joel wasn’t sure he wanted the details of what Cody had done to you but, whatever they were, Joel wanted to do at least ten times that to him. He wanted to do more than kill him. He wanted to feel the life leave his body and know that he’d made it happen. He wanted to hear him hurt, he wanted to make him beg. He wanted him to be helpless and at his mercy and he wanted him to know why. That his actions had brought his pain, that he was only receiving what he was due.

But he couldn’t hurt you.

It seemed like you were finally, maybe, starting to trust him again. You’d slept on him the night Savvy came to Ellie’s, you’d wanted him to hold you today. It was like you were finding comfort instead of fear with him now. He couldn’t hurt you, especially not now.

Joel showered when he got home, changing out of his shirt and putting on a clean one. If you did think he was safe, if the way you calmed when your face was against his chest was any indication, he might be able to help you this way, too.

The girls were home before he was and he went to Ellie’s, the music inside loud enough that he could hear it through the door. He knocked once and he heard a high pitched giggle before Ellie called for him to come in.

Savvy was laying broadside on Ellie’s bed, her head dangling over the side of it, her curls brushing the ground, a comic book laying across her chest. Ellie stretched to turn down her boombox, a notebook open on her lap.

“Hi Joel,” she said in her lightly teasing tone. “Here to do the daily old man check in?”

“What can I say,” he replied. “I’m a creature of habit.”

“Well, I helped out at the mess hall this morning,” Ellie said. “Getting ready to go out on patrol with Dina in a few days…”

“First overnight patrol without me,” Joel nodded. “Still feelin’ OK?”

“It’s getting cold, probably won’t even see any infected,” she said. “And haven’t seen shit for other trouble lately. Think we can handle some scary deer and shit.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Joel cautioned, though he smiled a little all the same. “But I think you’ll do just fine.” He turned to Savvy. “And how about you?”

She sighed and he was reminded for the millionth time since Savvy had moved in with Ellie of Sarah. It hurt less now, looking at her. He was sure it was sharper because she was only a year older than Sarah had been when he lost her, her hallmarks of teenage independence the same as any other teenager’s, including his daughter’s.

“Still hate math,” she said. “It’s boring. Why do I need to know how to calculate stuff like that? Maybe it was important before but it’s useless now.”

“Need people who can do math to help build and maintain things around here,” Joel said. “Afraid that means you have to study it.”

“Ms. Parker says I’m catching up,” she said. “I borrowed a new book, Catcher in the Rye…”

“She talked to a boy,” Ellie drew out the last word, smirking.

“Ellie!” Savvy shot up, twisting herself around on the bed so she was facing Joel and Ellie. She grabbed the pillow at the head of the bed and threw it at Ellie, who caught it and laughed. “Shut up!”

“Boy, huh?” Joel asked, treading lightly. His hand clenched into a fist at his side anyway. “Boy from school?”

Savvy sighed and nodded and Joel’s fist relaxed. A boy from school, not a new man in town.

“His name is Kyle,” Ellie teased.

“Ellie!” Savvy hissed, eyes wide. “Shut up!”

“Long as he’s a nice boy,” Joel said, trying to picture a kid in town named Kyle. “Respectful. All that.”

“He’s fine,” Ellie said, serious now. “Kind of a dork but fine.”

“Shut up,” Savvy said again, more pouty this time. “I think he’s cute.”

“Well you and your bad taste can have him,” Ellie shrugged.

“Thank you,” Savvy said, smug, relaxing a bit onto the bed and picking up the comic book that had fallen to the side. “But that’s all. Not much to report.”

Joel nodded slowly.

“Good. Just… One more thing. Need you girls to do me a favor.”

Savvy just nodded but Ellie frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. Joel took a deep breath.

“Need you girls to stay away from that new man in town,” he said. “His name’s Cody. He tries to talk to you, come tell me or your mom…”

“Why?” Ellie’s frown deepened. “What happened?”

“Just tryin’ to be safe,” Joel said. “Don’t know him yet, you’re both young. Want to make sure you’re protected is all.”

Savvy just shrugged and nodded, already getting distracted by the comic book. Ellie was still frowning.

“Ellie.”

“Sure,” she said eventually. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” he nodded. “You girls behave. Let me know if you go out, OK?”

“OK,” Savvy said, flopping back down on the bed and holding the comic book over her head.

Joel turned to leave and the volume on the boombox went back up but Ellie caught his arm as soon when he wasn’t even half way back to the house. He frowned, looking down to her.

“What’s up baby girl?”

“What’s wrong with Cody,” she said more than asked.

“Ellie…”

“It’s something,” she said. “I’m not a fucking idiot, Joel. Bambi practically kicked me out of the stable today, you’re telling me to stay away from him… what’s the deal.”

He sighed and tightened his jaw.

“Bambi’s come across him before,” he said eventually. “Doesn’t trust him. Best for you girls to stay away for now.”

She watched him for a moment, skeptical.

“You gonna let him live?” Ellie asked eventually.

Joel could have hugged her, his daughter so like him in this way, for better or for worse.

“For now,” he said. “She doesn’t want him dead so, for now, he keeps breathin’. On thin ice, though.”

Ellie nodded.

“I’ll look out for Savvy,” she said, turning to go back inside before turning back to Joel. “I think you should kill him. And if I see him try to fuck with either of them? I’ll do it myself.”

She didn’t give him a chance to respond, just going back in, Joel hearing a laugh from from just beyond the door before he headed home himself.

You came by a few hours later, seeming much more like yourself when you did. He gave you the rundown and you seemed happy about Savvy talking to a boy, something that made Joel raise his eyebrows.

“No, Ellie’s right, I’ve seen him around, he’s kind of a dork,” you smiled a little. “Harmless kid. But… I want that for her, you know? Want her to have someone she can have a crush on and feel giddy about…” You looked, longingly, out the window to the backyard.

“She’ll talk to you about it,” Joel said. “Once she figures herself out. She’ll tell you.”

You nodded and smiled tightly at him and went to leave when he stopped you.

“I… uh…” he awkwardly cupped the back of his neck, not entirely sure what to do with his hands. “Earlier, at the stable… I know, back before, you liked the coat and things because of the smell and… anyway.” He picked up the shirt he’d changed out of just before you came over, the one he’d put on clean that afternoon, and handed it to you. “Thought… seemed like it might be helpful again. Wanted to help, if it was.”

You took the folded shirt and watched him as you lifted it, slowly, to your nose before you closed your eyes and breathed deep before you clutched it to your chest, crossing your arms tightly over it.

“You gonna be OK over there?” He asked. “Can always stay here if you’re worried…”

“I can’t let him drive me out of my house,” you shook your head. “Besides. Got Gattling. She’ll rip his throat out and save me the trouble.”

“If you change your mind,” he said. “Can always come over here.”

You nodded and held the shirt a little tighter.

“Thanks, Joel,” you said. “I appreciate it.”

He hardly slept that night, staring up at the ceiling, remembering the fear on your face the second Cody was gone. How you’d trembled and cried, how you were reduced to that much fear by his presence.

It didn’t matter what Cody had done for you, Joel was going to take care of it. Saving your life didn’t forgive his sins. He couldn’t have a man like that here with you, with Ellie and Savvy. He was going to take care of it.

Joel beat you to the stables that morning and you frowned when you walked up, hands in the pockets of your jacket. He could just see a hint of the plaid flannel of the shirt he’d given you the night before peeking out over the collar.

“You’re usually not this much of an early riser,” you said, letting the two of you into the stable. “Patrol doesn’t leave for another hour…”

“Figured I’d get the horses,” he said.

“Joel.”

“Not lettin’ him near you,” he said. “Not if I can do something about it.”

You just nodded and started getting Ares and Cassiopeia ready. Joel took over Ares, giving the horse a good scratch behind the ears as he worked.

“You should take Ares,” you said, adjusting the saddle on the mare. “He’s harder to control, I have no idea about… about his abilities. Can’t risk a horse getting hurt because a rider isn’t up to snuff and on an animal that’s too powerful for him.”

“I’ll make sure I bring your horses back alright, Bambi,” he said gently, watching as you busied yourself, checking buckles more times than you normally would.

When you handed him the reins, your fingers lingered on his palm.

“You can’t kill him,” you said quietly, all but begging him with your eyes. “Please. I can’t have that on my conscious…”

“Not gonna kill him,” Joel said, reaching out slowly, cautiously, to cup your cheek. You closed your eyes and pressed against his palm and he had to resist the urge to kiss you. “I’ll bring him back in one piece. Promise.”

You nodded against him and he led the horses outside and waited for Cody to arrive.

Joel had to fight to be civil to the man. He introduced himself, apologized for the awkwardness the day before as the two of them made their way outside the walls of town.

“Really not sure what got into her,” he laughed after he and Joel had been riding for a few hours and were taking a break, getting ready to turn around and head back. “Know her well? Bambi, think they said her name was?”

Joel shrugged.

“Really not trying to get on people’s bad side this early,” he said and Joel could see how he’d lasted as long as he had in town. He was easy going, charming. It was hard to picture him running with raiders. “Never found a place quite like Jackson, don’t want to spoil it too soon.”

“Don’t get comfortable,” Joel said, resting a hand on the pistol at his side. “You won’t be stayin’ long.”

The man frowned.

“What…”

“Know who you are,” Joel said, straining to keep his voice calm as he stepped closer. He only had about two inches on Cody and he was at least a decade older but that didn’t matter. If it came down to a fight, Joel knew who would win. “Know what you did. You ain’t stayin’ in Jackson.”

Cody’s confused face turned angry and entitled and Joel could see him as a raider now. The switch flipped quickly from charismatic man who could talk his way into places into one who wasn’t bothered by hurting and killing to get what he wanted.

“I don’t know what she told you but…”

“Didn’t need her to tell me,” he said. “Knew from how she was looking at you. You’re one of ‘em and you hurt her.”

“No,” he snapped. “No, I never fucking hurt her, I was always careful, never was like what they were…”

“You really think that matters?” Joel asked, his voice flat. He tried not to think about what he used to be, the things he used to let happen. “Think it makes a damn difference to me?”

Cody lunged for him, trying to punch Joel in the face but he dodged him easily. Joel shoved the other man to the ground before catching his shoulder with his boot, forcing him onto his back. Joel dropped to one knee, putting it in the middle of Cody’s chest and yanking his gun from the holster, tossing it over by the horses before looking down at him, his head cocked to the side as the man’s hand scrambled over Joel’s leg, clawing for some weakness he wouldn’t find.

“Can’t just kill me,” he panted up at him eventually. “They’ll know…”

“They wouldn’t,” Joel shook his head. “Just say we ran into infected, you got bit, had to shoot you. Unfortunate loss but the merciful way to go. Hell, they’d even console me for havin’ to do it. No, killing you’d be easy. But I’m not gonna do that.”

“Bullshit,” he hissed. “Just do it, get it over with.”

“Nah,” Joel shook his head, clenching his jaw for a moment. He had to remind himself that he couldn’t kill Cody. It didn’t matter how good it’d feel to pull pain from his body, to watch him scream and beg, he’d promised you. “If I was going to kill you, it’d be slow. Painful. Only get to kill you for what you did once, better be damn sure I’m gonna enjoy it. I’d enjoy it plenty with you.”

“You’re a monster,” he managed through gritted teeth.

Joel shrugged.

“Maybe. But I’m her monster. And she asked me not to kill you. Said you got her out so she owes you her life. This is her repaying that, understand? If it were up to me, you’d be dead today. But that’s not what she wants.

“So here’s whats going to happen,” he continued. “We’re gonna ride back to Jackson like nothing happened at all. You’re gonna stay in town for two days and you’re gonna talk to people. You’re gonna be restless, you’re gonna say you miss being outside. Two days after we get back, you leave with what you came with, no more. You’ll go far away from here and you won’t tell a single goddamn soul about our town or about her. I catch you so much as looking at her or our daughters? I’ll kill you in the middle of town, I don’t give a shit. When you go, you’ll stay gone. Ever come back? I’ll kill you. I find out you told anyone about where she is? There ain’t a corner of this planet you’ll be able to hide from me. I will hunt you down like a fuckin’ dog and you’ll wish I killed you now, just the way I want to. I bein’ clear?”

Cody just glared at him and Joel sighed before grabbing a fistful of the man’s hair, forcing him to look him in the eye.

“I asked you a question,” Joel said, leaning in close. “Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“Repeat it.”

“I leave in two days,” he said. “And don’t breathe a word.”

Joel released his hair.

“Good,” he said. “Don’t want to hear another goddamn sound from you the rest of the day unless it’s warnin’ me about infected because I’m taking your fuckin’ guns. And you best keep her name out of your goddamn mouth the next two days or I’ll make you regret it. Understood?”

He nodded once and Joel lifted his knee from his chest before hefting him to his feet.

“On your fuckin’ horse,” he said. “Move.”

The rest of patrol was, at least, easy. Joel spent most of it keeping an eye on Cody but did notice signs of a large group of infected moving through somewhat recently, most likely migrating south for the winter. He made a note of it but he doubted it’d be worth following up on this late in the season.

When the two of them got back to town, Cody still looked off balance. Angry, entitled, like he was thinking of picking a fight he wouldn’t win. Joel just took his horse outside the stables.

“Remember what we talked about,” Joel said. “Two days from now and you’re gone or I’ll make you go.”

“Got it,” he seethed, looking murderous. Joel didn’t care.

“Good. Get the fuck out of here.”

You were waiting inside the stables, perched on the side of Perseus’ stall, stroking his neck. You stiffened when Joel came in but relaxed when you realized he was alone. You were wearing his shirt.

“Where’s Cody?” You frowned, coming and taking Cassiopeia’s reins. “Joel, you promised…”

“He’s fine,” Joel cut you off. “Sent him home. Told you I’d let him live so he’s alive. No intent of changin’ that.”

You nodded slowly, starting to take the horse’s tack off.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “I’m sure that wasn’t easy…”

“It’s your decision,” he replied. “Don’t matter what I want.”

You nodded again and the two of you slowly, methodically stripped down the horses side by side.

Joel saw you catch a glimpse of Cody in the mess hall the next day, he saw the shiver pass through you as you spotted him and all but ran for the doors instead of staying for breakfast. He had to fight the urge to kill him then, knowing how he still hurt you. But he resisted. It should be up to you, he wasn’t about to take that from you.

It was a relief when word spread two days later that Cody had left in the night. He’d even given the guards at the gate a note to pass to the council, saying exactly what Joel had told him to say. That he missed being outside and didn’t feel like Jackson was a good fit, that he’d be no trouble and doubted he’d come back.

“Weird that he’d just leave like that,” Maria said as she, Joel and Tommy sat around her and Tommy’s kitchen table, making sure they had all the coverage they needed for the patrol leaving the next morning. It was going to be a big one, a few groups going out overnight, including Ellie with her friend Dina. “Rough on us, too. He was a solid patrol prospect…”

“Can’t force a man to stay who don’t want to stay,” Tommy shrugged, bouncing William on his knee, trying to settle him. “His spot is open now though… think Bambi would be OK to fill in? Olivia can cover the stable for a few days and that’s one of the easier routes, s’why we were sending the new guy out on it. And it’s with Julie, her and Bambi are friends, right?”

“Doubt she’d mind,” Joel shrugged. William reached and groped for him so he held out a finger and smiled as the toddler wrapped his chubby hands around it. “Been a bit since she was on a patrol.”

“Perfect,” Maria said, noting it in a journal and on a map. “You two go to the lookout to take over for Jesse and Eugene, Ellie and Dina can cover this territory, Bambi and Julie here. One last go round for the big stuff before the snow flies.”

“Assuming we make it back before snow flies,” Tommy said. Maria scoffed. “Bein’ serious, it’s on the way, can feel it.”

“Just because your joints are getting old…” she said and Tommy laughed.

“Don’t start on his age,” Joel said, getting up and stretching. “Don’t even want to think about what that means for mine.”

“You goin’ to the dance later?” Tommy asked. “You and Bambi been looking a bit closer lately…”

“Don’t start on that either,” Joel said. “And figured I’d stay home. Worried I’d cramp Ellie’s style if I went, kid seems pretty damn excited.”

“We can keep an eye on her,” Maria said. “Savvy, too, especially since she’s coming here tomorrow while you and Ellie are patrolling.”

“Appreciate that,” Joel nodded. “See you in the morning?”

“Be there bright and early,” Tommy replied.

Joel took the long way home, pausing outside your house for a moment, checking the status of your woodpile. It would be OK for a bit but he made a plan to come chop more for you, make sure you had a good stockpile before the cold really set in.

Ellie and Savvy had left for the dance before he got home and he took advantage of the quiet. It was chilly but not freezing so he settled on the porch with his guitar, not playing anything in particular. Instead, he was thinking of you.

He wasn’t sure where to go from here. Things felt better than they had in months. You leaned into his touch. You were wearing his shirt. He wanted to let you have control. You deserved that much, at least. He didn’t want to push things or rush you. He didn’t want to push you away but, more importantly, he didn’t want to hurt you. But he missed you. He wanted you back so bad it hurt. He had this underlying fear that he’d never move past this point, this constant longing, no matter what he did. He just didn’t know how to fix it.

Joel lost track of time out there, Ellie and Savvy coming back eventually, Savvy giggling and Ellie’s eyes wide.

“Everything OK kiddo?” Joel frowned as she cut around the house. “Have a good time?”

“Oh she had a great time,” Savvy giggled and Ellie elbowed her, only making her laugh harder.

“It was great,” Ellie said.

“Yeah it was,” Savvy said in a tone that made Joel think of you.

“Shut up,” Ellie hissed and Savvy giggled again. “We’re going to bed, some of us have to get up early.”

“Bet you wouldn’t say that if I were…” Savvy said but Ellie cut her off.

“OK, goodnight Joel!” She said, shoving Savvy playfully toward the back. “See you tomorrow…”

Joel tried not to laugh as he watched the girls dissolve into giggles as they went inside and he shook his head a little before going in himself to make a cup of coffee, something he figured he’d regret when he couldn’t sleep but it sounded too good. But he made the most of it, putting it in his favorite mug, one that Ellie liked to tease him about because of the owl but that just made him like it more.

He wondered if Tommy was right about the snow. He leaned on the railing of the porch, looking up into the dark. The skies were clear and he could see the constellations that you and Ellie both loved so much. He’d been looking for a good telescope for Ellie for years now and nights like tonight made him wish he’d found one by now.

“Hey.”

Joel jumped enough that he was surprised he didn’t burn his hand from the coffee.

You were there, at the base of the stairs, looking up at him with eyes wide and bright. His heart skipped a beat.

“Hey,” he cleared his throat. You were wearing his shirt. You didn’t have on a coat.

“It OK if I come up?” You nodded to the porch.

“Course,” he said. “Always welcome.”

You jogged up the steps, the same one as always squeaking under your feet, and Joel smiled a bit at that. The little sound he’d come to love because it announced your arrival.

“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” He asked. “It’s not bad, all things considered.”

“No,” you said. “Not in the mood, it’d be wasted on me.”

“You go to the dance?” Joel asked after a moment, your body close to his as you leaned against the railing beside him.

You laughed once.

“No,” you said. “Didn’t see much point. Besides, Tommy asked me earlier if I could fill in on patrol because we were down a person so I thought I’d try to rest since that means it’s an early start.”

Joel nodded slowly.

“Didn’t go either,” he said after a moment of quiet. “Girls got back not long ago, though, gigglin’ up a storm. Think they had fun.”

“That’s good,” you said, nodding, too. “I wonder what Savvy thought of a dance… I hated them when I was her age but that’s because my mother made me go. She might love them. It’s hard to know.”

“They’re not for everyone,” Joel said. “But can be fun. I’m sure I’ll get all the details soon, I’ll pass ‘em on when I do.”

“Thanks,” you said, glancing at him for a moment before looking up at the stars again. You were quiet for a moment before you sighed. “Joel…”

He looked at you, your fingers gripping the railing so tight your knuckles were pale.

“Joel, did you kill Cody?” You asked, turning to look at him, still holding the railing tight.

“No,” he shook his head. “No, you asked me not to so I didn’t.”

“So, what, he just disappears two days after you go on patrol together?” You asked, brows raised. “Do you expect me to believe that?”

“No,” Joel shrugged. “But I didn’t kill him. Didn’t hurt him, either. Told him he had to get the fuck out, that he couldn’t come back and couldn’t tell anyone where you were or I would kill him. But he’s alive. Unless he got himself fuckin’ killed since he left but since he made it this far, seems doubtful.”

“Joel…”

“Couldn’t have him here,” Joel said, taking a sip of coffee. “Not with you. Not with our girls. He’s too dangerous. You wanted him to live so he’s alive but he couldn’t stay here, so I handled it.”

You straightened up, looking him in the eye before you stepped closer to him. He waited for you to say something. Say something. Blame him, rail against him, something. But you didn’t.

“What are you doin’ here, Bambi?” He asked softly.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you whispered, so close he could feel the heat of your breath on him.

“Why’s that?” He asked. You reached up slowly, cautiously, and put your arms around his neck. He set his mug on the post of the railing and his hands curled gently around your biceps. You stepped closer still, your body against his now.

“I was thinking about you.”

Your eyes drifted to his lips before going back up to his eyes.

“Can I…”

“You can do whatever you want with me,” he breathed and you nodded before you kissed him softly, slowly. Your lips were gentle and easy on his, so much like he remembered them being. Your whole body slotted perfectly against his, the curves and arches of you melding into him as he wrapped his arms around you to cradle you against him and you deepened the kiss, moaning into his mouth. He damn near whimpered when you pulled back from him, your body still pressed against him.

“Would it be alright if we went inside?” You asked.

“Whatever you want,” he said softly. “Give you whatever you want.”

You just nodded before kissing him lightly, pulling back much faster this time.

“Then let’s go inside.”

He just nodded, guiding you to the door before opening it and welcoming you into his home.

Next Chapter

A/N: EEEEEEEEE THEY'RE FINALLY BACK TOGETHER!

The Joel/Bambi relationship based angst is coming to a close and I think we're all pretty happy about that. Yeah? Yeah. Think we all know what the next chapter will be. Hope you're excited about it because I know I am!

Thanks for being patient while I write this insane chapter. I so appreciate you all for being here and sticking with this story! Love you!

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#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc

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