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chelseeebe · 6 months

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promise.

eddie knows about covering bruises and pretending to be fine all too well. but can he save the one woman he thinks he’s ever loved?

a/n: ok i’ve been a bit shit the last few weeks and this is genuinely the only thing i could conjure up but forewarning, it is sad and it does mention some pretty heavy topics that i know aren’t for everyone so i completely understand if u don’t want to read! my adhd riddled brain has already started a part two which does have a happy ending

title based on promise - ben howard i just thought it was a really lovely song and fits well with part two

read part two here.

18+. mdni! mentions of domestic violence, not explicitly described but the injuries are there and it is referred to multiple times throughout (eddie is not the perpetrator). smut. v much hurt/no comfort but not for long.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

eddie is positively wrecked.

who would have ever guessed working in a shoddy, run-down bar would be so fucking tiring?

graham had said that if he picked up a few shifts at the hideout a week, then corroded coffin could play once a month. a guaranteed slot and he got paid? this was like heaven to him.

he just hadn’t expected the little bar to be so exhausting. he supposes that his lack of work experience and the fact he was used to doing sweet fuck all most of the time was to blame. that’s not his fault. not really. after finally graduating high school a year or so ago, he just hadn’t found any work in the tiny town.

on one particularly boring mid-week shift, eddie’s sat behind the bar doodling on the back of an old receipt, tapping his foot along to the kiss tune playing on the stereo. wouldn’t be his first choice but he’s not complaining.

‘you coming for a smoke?’ you exclaim suddenly, causing his head to jolt up, running the biro over his shitty drawing, ruining it completely.

‘uh.. then who would be on the bar?’ he utters, quickly hiding the doodle before you could judge it. not that he thinks you would, but just in case.

‘eddie, it’s dead,’ you say flatly, looking around at the empty tables.

truth be told, he hadn’t seen another soul bar from you and graham since he’d arrived which was odd for a thursday. assuming that the usual bums that lined the dusty old stools were otherwise engaged today. that or they just hadn’t been paid yet.

‘oh.. yeah, okay,’ he nods, hopping down from the stool and grabbing his jacket. you’re already gone, bounding off down the hall to the fire exit you all used for smoke breaks.

eddie’s still fairly new and very rarely got invited on the group breaks. which was fine, he just wished that you’d all take it in turns so that he could smoke too. he gets it though, like he talks enough but yet not enough to really make friends with any of you.

you’re leaning back against the brick wall, cigarette hanging from your lips, ‘you got a lighter?’

it’s not like he’d been staring or thought about it that much, but he’d noticed how breathtakingly beautiful you were on his second shift. okay, maybe that’s a lie. he’d thought about it a lot. but anyway, he’d been utterly in awe at the way you handled the drunks, brushed off their creepy comments and stood your ground no matter how angry or persistent they were being. he admired that and just wished that he had even a smidgen of the confidence you had.

he fumbles in his pocket for the lighter, clumsily handing it over before getting his own pack out. it feels wrong to look you in the eye, god that sounded pathetic. you were older, far cooler than he was and positively stunning. if he remembers correctly, you must’ve been a couple grades above him at school but had left long before he graduated.

‘thanks,’ passing the lighter back to him, fingers ever so slightly brushing against his. it’s like electricity sparks through his veins.

he really needs to get a grip.

‘you enjoyin’ it here?’ you ask, eyes intimidating as they bore into his.

‘it’s okay.. tiring though,’ he shrugs, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact despite his inability to look pretty girls in the eye.

‘yeah.. you’ll get used to it,’ you chuckle, the smoke flowing out of your lips perfectly. he’s so pathetically down bad for you and you have literally no idea.

‘how long have you worked here?’ longing to keep the conversation flowing.

‘shit.. too long,’ chuckling as you take another drag. eddie could listen to that sound all day. ‘i think i was eighteen when i started so..’ pretending to count on your fingers, ‘six years?’

eddie blows the air out of cheeks, he’s probably be in a similar position if he’d have just graduated when he was supposed to so he can’t exactly pass judgement.

‘i think we went to school together, i mean, you were a couple grades above me but i remember you,’ hoping that that didn’t sound as creepy out loud like it did in his head.

‘oh shit, really?’ your eyes narrow, trying to place him though it’s obviously not going to happen, ‘i don’t remember you.. i’m so sorry,’ playfully hitting his arm.

the connection is enough to keep his delusions going for at least another month.

‘it’s fine, didn’t think you would,’ not many people did to be honest. he tosses his cigarette into the overflowing makeshift ashtray, waiting for you to lead the way back inside.

‘hey, it was a long time ago, i’m old now!’ you joke, walking back through the dim hall back to the bar. he tries his hardest not to let his gaze slip to you ass but he swears it’s only for a second.

the bar’s still dead, the stereo now blaring out some madonna tune he hated.

‘ugh.. turn this one off,’ he mutters, mostly to himself as he repositions himself back on his perch.

‘what?’

‘i hate this song.’

your jaw drops in faux-offence, ‘i made this mixtape you asshole,’ going to shove him off of the stool, ‘i can’t believe you can’t drop the cool guy act for one second to appreciate some madonna,’ laughing as you start collecting glasses.

his frown turns into an immediate grin, begging for your forgiveness as he starts to bop his head along to the beat. it’s not like anyone would see him and hell, even if they did, he didn’t care. not if it made you smile.

‘holy fuck, you been fightin’ with the door again?’ james remarks, pulling eddie’s eyes from his paper to spot you rushing into the bar.

your head is ducked, flashing the older man your middle finger, disappearing into the back before eddie can properly get a glimpse of your face.

but he knows.

there’d been a handful of times that you’d come in wearing a massive sweater instead of your usual low-cut tops and when you reached for something high up, the sleeve would reveal just enough for him to see the dark blue marks on your wrist.

he’d never been sure, not until now. but his stomach drops the second his brain puts two and two together.

ditching the paper and that asshole james behind the bar to slink off into the back, approaching the tiny staff room with the upmost caution. it’d never be wise to start throwing accusations around but he’s not stupid. eddie had watching his mom go through the exact same shit for years. knew all the tricks in the book to cover up bruises, cried his heart out every time his mom went back to his asshole dad.

only god knows how many times he’d planned out his fathers death. anger brimming in his tiny body the second he heard raised voices.

he knocks gently on the door, watching as you hurriedly wipe the makeup onto your eye. it’s not doing much, in fact, it’s not doing anything at all. the purple shining through undeniably.

‘you okay?’ practically whispering as he enters the room, knocking the door shut behind him. james’ comment had meant that this obviously wasn’t the first time you’d come into work with such horrid markings.

you sigh, giving up on attempting to cover it, slamming the metallic compact back into your locker. ‘i’m okay.. i’m fine,’ refusing to turn and face him.

you’re obviously not okay and it hurts eddie to know that there’s absolutely nothing he can do to help. instead, he takes a seat on the communal bench, if nothing else, he’d lend his ear for whatever story you wanted to tell him.

‘what happened?’ he dares to ask, not expecting to know the truth but it felt better than silence.

you sniff, closing your locker and finally facing him head on. there’s pain and guilt wracked all over your face, ‘i’m just.. clumsy,’ shoulders slumping, ‘i tripped..’

‘clumsy?’

you were anything but. eddie had watched you balance trays full of glasses without spilling a single drop. maybe other people bought your story but he didn’t. he couldn’t.

there’s a short silence and eddie shuffles, patting the empty space beside him, ‘you don’t have to lie to me.’ he swallows his anger, lets it rest in his stomach for a later date. there’s no doubt that if he got the opportunity, he’d kill the asshole that did this to you.

you swallow, reluctantly perching on the bench, ‘why are you even asking when you already know?’ not quite meeting his eyes, staring off somewhere into the distance.

‘i don’t know.. didn’t wanna pressure you..’ he’s familiar with the whole routine. the denial from his mother had broken his heart at such a young age even though he wasn’t stupid.

you blink, meeting his eyes for the first time, ‘he didn’t mean to.. was my fault,’ wiping the back of your hand against your sodden cheeks.

even hearing the words makes him inexplicably frustrated. not with you of course, but with the fact that you can’t see how much you don’t deserve that.

‘i don’t think you could do anything to deserve that,’ motioning towards your blackened eye. he’s not going to push it but he needs you to know that he’s here and would quite happily wrap his hands around that bastards neck.

‘you know.. my dad used to hit my mom,’ swallowing the large lump that had gathered in his throat, but finds enough strength to continue, ‘she was the nicest lady in the world.. she didn’t deserve that and neither do you,’ licking his suddenly parched lips. it wasn’t an easy topic then and it certainly isn’t now.

he’s not particularly ever open about what happened to his mom but if it convinced you even a tiny bit to leave him, it’d be worth it.

there’s a beat, followed by a muffled sniff but you’re nodding, staring down at the grimy tiles rather than his face. eddie reckons that he’d be overstepping his mark if he did what he wanted and leant over to hug you. so he doesn’t. putting a sympathetic hand on your shoulder instead.

‘you’re an angel, you know that?’ the hints of a smile creeping onto your lips.

‘yeah i know,’ he scoffs, bashing his shoulder into yours, only gently.

‘shut up,’ knocking him straight back.

you get up from the bench, puffing your cheeks out as you take one last look into the mirror.

it’s a gut-wrenching, awful sight and god forbid eddie has to ever see you like that again.

perhaps rather naively, eddie assumes everything is fine for the next few weeks.

understandably, you’re a bit subdued for a few days but you do revert back to your usual bubbly self come friday evening. no more bruises, no more groaning when you change the keg and absolutely zero mention of your wretched boyfriend.

so when he pulls into his gravel driveway one gloomy saturday night, he’s aghast to see you perched on his trailer steps. blinking through his headlights, soaked through from the rain with a busted lip and a torn shirt to match.

he near enough launches himself from his van, rushing over to your hunched over frame. damn near falling over his feet to get to you.

‘what the hell happened?’

you stand, clinging onto your poorly packed rucksack, ‘i.. i didn’t know where else to go,’ utterly defeated, any traces of life drained from your face.

he doesn’t say another word, bundling you into the trailer, slamming the lights on to get a proper look of you. his hands firmly on your drenched shoulders as he examines your injuries. your lip is cracked, the blood had wept from the cut and dried on your chin.

it’s awful. knocks him sick just to see you like this. your cheeks are stained with a mixture of rain and he presumes tears, hair hanging limp around your beautiful face.

‘what happened?’ he says softly, studying your face. he notices the small gash on your forehead, using everything within himself not to storm out of that door in a murderous rage.

your mouth opens but no words come out. it’s not as if he can’t put two and two together, he just doesn’t understand how it got to this point after last week.

‘it’s okay.. c’mon let’s get you out of these clothes,’ he blinks, collecting himself before taking your sopping wet bag. the clothes had all suffered in the downpour, damp and unwearable.

so he leads you into his cramped room, hastily rummaging through his drawers for something you can wear.

it’s a little self-indulgent and completely the wrong time but his heart flutters when you reappear out of the bathroom sporting his tee and a pair of old gym shorts. now showered and without the blood stains on your face, it’s a welcome sight.

‘better?’ he offers, though he knows a shower could never really help.

you nod, pulling the sleeves down over your hands. it’s so adorable and eddie seriously has to fight his compulsion to just pull you into his arms. he knows there’s no way he can protect you from everything but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.

‘you want a drink? beer?’

your eyes light up, a minuscule smirk appearing on your battered lips. he’s sure wayne would understand why he came home to a non-existent six pack. the berating would be worth it to see you smile again.

he collapses onto the couch next to you, beer in hand as he watches you slowly relax. delighted that he could offer a safe space for you, even if it did come with some very complicated feelings.

that night, admittedly very creepily, he watches as you sleep. terrified to fall asleep in his makeshift bed on the floor in case you needed him.

at some point in the last two weeks, eddie had gone from sleeping on the floor to sleeping in his bed next to you. you’d told him it was far too cold for him on the floor and he should just get in. which he did, with great pleasure. there was nothing to it of course, but a few times he’d woken up to your leg entangled with his or your face pressed against his back.

everything had just got a whole lot more comfortable. rides to work, cooking for one another and some shared looks that he’d been unable to put his finger on. not wanting to believe they had any deeper meaning but at the same time, he knew that that wasn’t how friends looked at each other.

it’s a rare night you both have off, sat in the trailer watching halloween, neither of you really interested in what’s going on on the screen. there’s an inexplicable tension in the air tonight, you’re quieter than usual which eddie doesn’t like.

‘you okay?’ he dares to ask. he’d felt a little overbearing those first few days, constantly checking on you to make sure you were okay.

‘hmm? oh, i’m okay,’ setting your bottle of beer on the table, ending up much closer to him when you sit back.

‘you sure? you’re quiet,’ keen not to let on that he was absolutely buzzing about your close proximity.

‘just thinking.’

‘about?’

you let out a soft breath, twisting around to look at him fully. the only times he’d been this close to you were in bed where he laid and listened to your soft snores and when you’d been covered in injuries. neither one were exceptionally great circumstances.

‘you,’ you blink up at him, smiling just enough to make his heart skip a beat.

‘me?’ he can’t decipher whether that’s a good thing or not.

‘mhm.’

‘what about me?’

you don’t respond for what feels like an eternity but your gaze lowers, glancing at his lips and back to his eyes. if he weren’t staring directly into your bright eyes, he’d have missed it.

‘i really want to kiss you,’ you say, so brazenly that eddie’s not quite sure if he’s heard you correctly, almost sputtering on his breath as the words process.

‘you.. you wanna kiss me?’ trying hard not to sound so astounded. pretty girls didn’t want to kiss eddie, not like this.

you nod, ‘can i?’

there are stars in his eyes, blood pumping around his limbs at an alarming rate. his head is fuzzy and if he weren’t sitting, he’d probably have fainted.

‘please,’ he chokes, desperately forcing the word out before it becomes impossible.

your palms are soft as they caress his cheek, wishing that he’d shaved before this had unfolded. his heartbeat stutters, bubbling with anticipation as you lean in, gentle lips locking onto his as his eyes flutter shut.

this is it. he’d dreamt of kissing you for weeks, practiced on his hand an embarrassing amount of times and yet still nothing could’ve prepared him for how earth shattering this felt. his heart is practically jumping out of his chest and he’s sure you can feel it thumping against yours.

it’s as if fate had bought the two of you together, moving against each other in perfect harmony. if he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man.

your hand creeps down onto his chest, holding yourself upright as you shift onto your knees. do you want to have sex with him? is this actually happening? his fingertips vibrate as they connect with your waist, like you weren’t even real and just a figment of his overactive imagination.

the second your lips part from his, he wants to cry, pull you back in and never let go. the absence of contact makes him whine, opening his eyes to see yours gazing back, they look different. different to how you’ve ever looked at him before, full of something unspeakable.

‘do you want to?’ you ask quietly into the minimal space between you.

eddie wants to so bad, more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. nodding hurriedly to let you know just how eager he is. there’s not a chance in hell he’d let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

your lips twitch into a smile at his permission, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt.

but before you get any further, the trailer door clicks open and wayne is stood in the doorway, pizza box in hand accompanying his unimpressed scowl. ‘okay well, i think that’s enough of that,’ he grumbles, shuffling into the trailer as you climb off eddie’s lap, back into your own spot.

‘sorry wayne.. i didn’t know you were back so early,’ his cheeks burning, bashful as ever. it wasn’t enough for wayne to walk in on that but he was always now straining against his jeans, trying desperately to hide the tent while you reshuffle, pulling your shorts back down to a more appropriate length.

‘yeah yeah whatever,’ his uncle shakes his head, trundling over to the couch and tossing the box onto the cluttered coffee table, ‘move over boy, i wanna watch my programme,’ collapsing into the empty seat beside his nephew with a deep, guttural sigh.

the two of you share a sly smirk, tuning in to whatever shit wayne had put on without saying another word. stifling your laughter with a piece of pizza as eddie tries and fails to discretely pull a pillow onto his lap.

it’s hours later when you both crawl into bed and eddie has checked five times that wayne’s actually asleep before he gets to kiss you again.

bundled up under the covers when you pull him on top of you, your face gloriously basked in the bright moonlight shining in. it’s breathtaking.

‘you want to?’ you ask again, as if his answer had changed in those few hours.

he nods, his curls brushing fall down and brush against your cheek, ‘have you.. before?’ you ask cautiously. he’s not offended, even if he should be.

he has had sex before. only twice. when ellen had first joined hellfire, they had sorta had a year long fling which had ended after they had sex and ellen realised that maybe she didn’t actually like men. that was a super boost to his confidence. and then at senior prom when tina took great pity on him and somehow they ended up having sex in the back of his van.

he nods anyway, granted he’s not the most experienced but he’ll sure as hell try.

‘good,’ you smile, warm thighs wrapping around his torso as you reconnect your lips. it’s soft, gentle even. world’s apart from his previous encounters. this felt real, like you weren’t just kissing because you had to but because you wanted to.

it’s too cold in the trailer to care about removing your clothes, though he’s sure that’ll change in a minute. focussing on getting his tongue inside of your mouth, rutting against your pajama shorts. the friction causing his already semi-hard dick to rise, unable to contain the moan from escaping.

a smirk flashes across his face as his hand drags your shorts down your legs, savouring every moment of being able to touch your bare, supple skin. his hand makes its way back up your legs, repositioning the one he could grasp back around his lower back.

he has trouble getting his boxers down, too excited to focus on being smooth about it. appreciating the feel of your hand tugging the fabric down. you’re barely kissing at this point, your lips connecting with the corner of his mouth, all messy as the anticipation takes over.

‘you sure?’ he asks, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. he could just about remember what to do. sending a quick prayer upstairs to not let him be utterly useless.

‘i’m sure,’ you breathe, the feel of your fingers tangled into the hair that covered the back of his neck.

‘okay..’ he nods, mostly to himself as he wraps a head around his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. taking a brief moment to just capture this moment in preparation of it never happening again.

the pleasure overcomes his body as he slides in, already almost losing himself as he fills you up. a soft moan escapes your lips, gripping onto his neck. he is acutely aware that his uncle is asleep on the other side of the old trailer so he muffles his face into your neck, lips connecting with your jaw bone, kissing any and every bit of skin exposed to him.

sex had never felt like this before. at best, it had felt slightly better than when he jerked off, but this was something else. eddie knows it’s cliche and is definitely only because you feel so fucking good around him, but it’s as if you were made for each other.

hands pressed into the pillow so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if there were a permanent dent either side of your head. using everything within himself not to start hollering, eyes fluttering shut against your neck. he moves in and out at an agonisingly slow pace. the small room filling with the sounds of your soaking wet cunt. its undeniable to anyone with ears and he just hopes to god that wayne is still asleep.

his own low groans vibrating against your cheek, mouth hanging open as his thrusts grow faster. you’re panting softly directly into his ear, spurring him on. despite the feel of your perfect cunt around him, the best feeling is knowing that he’s making you feel good.

‘h-holy shit,’ he mumbles nonsensically into the crook of your neck, not allowing himself to come for air because he know that the second he looks at your face, he’ll cum.

your one hand is splayed out on his upper back, the other holding onto his sweaty neck beneath his mop of hair. whining his name into his ear, driving him into a frenzy with the sound of your breathy voice, desire rippling through your moans. he should tell you to be quiet but that’d be cruel and he’d rather take the shame of wayne knowing than not hearing you.

your legs shift higher the position allowing him to reach the golden spot, nudging the soft, spongy spot over and over. eddie figures you’re far more experienced than he is. with no offence meant to you but you obviously know what works. this is new territory for him, a closeness that he’d never known possible.

you’re engulfing him completely, every single one of his senses encompassed by you. you’re all he can see even with his eyes screwed shut, all he can hear, taste and smell. god knows you’re all he can feel, calves squeezing around his back and your perfect pussy tightening around him.

he groans, feeling his stomach begin to twist in that all too familiar feeling. orgasms had never felt so good, it’s like everything was dialled up to level ten. ‘i’m gonna.. shit- i’m gonna come,’ he babbles far too loudly.

every noise tumbling out of your mouth was pulling him closer, no record could ever come close to the sweet mewls that were slipping between your lips. his arms begin to tremble under his own weight. feeling your legs quivering around his waist as your orgasm begins to overtake your body, sinful noises echoing around the otherwise quiet trailer.

‘ohh fuck,’ he growls, feeling your walls clenching around him, it was like he’d been pushed over the edge. the only way he can begin to describe it was otherworldly, flashes of white light illuminate his eyelids.

images of your face accompany your honeyed whimpers and he has to pull out before he explodes. spurts of his release cover his hand and admittedly the back of your thigh. if he had any semblance of control, he’d have been embarrassed but he’s not exactly sure that he’s still on planet earth.

he dares to open his eyes, watching as your chest heaves below him clinging onto his forearm with desperate fingertips. you’re looking up at him as if he’s the only person you’d ever seen. mouth slack as you regain your breath.

‘jesus christ,’ he whispers, hand resting on your angled knee as he floats back down to your planet.

eddie clambers off of the bed with a grunt, wiping a hand over his sweaty face. reaching down to grab his previously discarded towel. it wasn’t the epitome of romance but he darent to leave his room, petrified that wayne had just heard that entire encounter.

he’s a gentleman, of course, running the towel over your thigh to clean his mess. offering you a tiny shrug as if to say sorry. rather suddenly he feels rather conscious of himself, refusing to look at you as his cheeks flame.

it’s ridiculous. he’d just been buried between your legs and yet now couldn’t even look you in the fucking eyes.

before he gets up again, your hand reaches out, curling around his t-shirt. ‘stop,’ using his shirt as leverage for you to sit up.

in one quick movement, you’re placing a tiny onto his lips. a reassurance he really shouldn’t have needed but he appreciates nonetheless.

‘don’t do that,’ you hush, millimetres from his face, the shadow of his broken blinds shine upon your cheek. it hurts him to know that someone would dare look at you and want to hurt you.

if it were possible, he’d take all of your pain and carry it with him instead.

‘okay..’ he nods, resisting the urge to apologise once again.

you giggle and it sounds like the heavens have opened, pulling his body on top of yours as his bed makes an almighty squeak. if wayne wasn’t already awake, he certainly would be now.

eddie doesn’t know where the fuck you are.

you hadn’t come back to the trailer after work last night and now you’re nowhere to be found. you were supposed to start half an hour ago but hadn’t turned up and now his heart is pounding, mind racing at the horrific possibilities of what could’ve happened.

at first, he’d thought maybe he said something wrong? he’d just thrown out the suggestion of going to get the rest of your things and moving them in here while you got back on your feet. he hadn’t meant to push you out, god no, that was the last thing he wanted.

maybe stupidly he had presumed you wanted your own space. whatever the hell was going on between you two was so fresh, he didn’t want to even chance fucking it up.

the guilt wracks his brain, tempted to drop everything to drive around this tiny town looking for you. he’s so stupid. should’ve just kept his mouth shut and enjoyed it while you were there.

he’s just about to tell james that he’s leaving when the door to the bar opens and a rough looking man comes through with you held tightly underneath his arm. your eyes avoiding his direction, staring at the floor as the mystery man ushers you towards the back, making himself comfortable at the bar.

eddie’s heart shatters into a million pieces, watching open mouthed as you disappear into the back.

judging by the look on james’ face, he recognises him, reluctantly pouring his beer as they engage in useless small talk.

‘thought i’d better sit in for her shift.. wouldn’t want her running off again,’ the man announces, beady eyes glaring right into his soul.

eddie knows who he is. he’d never seen him before but he could tell. they all had that sinister aura about them, like they could flip at any given moment. his dad was the same, walking on egg shells around him just in case he said the wrong thing or looked at him the wrong way.

you emerge from the staff room, still vehemently avoiding eye contact, a shell of the you he saw just yesterday. ‘hey.. you okay?’ eddie asks, but it falls flat as you walk off without so much as a look back towards him.

he can’t believe it, how you could be so different so quickly. as if the past few weeks you’d spent together had meant nothing. he can’t blame you. not really. it’s a cycle and he knows better than anyone that it takes a thousand attempts to actually break out of it.

his shoulders slump as he rushes out the back, refusing to look at that assholes face any longer. willing himself to get a grip and not jump over that bar to strangle the piece of shit right now.

a hand clamps down on his shoulder and for a brief moment he thinks he might be you until james clears his throat, shuffling on his feet behind him, ‘you can’t save her man,’ squeezing his shoulder firmly, ‘you think we haven’t tried?’

eddie sniffs, shrugging him off. he didn’t appreciate the patronising tone in which james was speaking to him.

because god knows, if he couldn’t save his mom, there’s no fucking chance he’s not saving you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things x you #eddie munson x female reader smut

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sofiareidings · 7 months

Text

Coffee Runs

Summary: The guy who's been coming to the cafe you work at finally asked why you've never called him by his name.

A/N: I'm sorry this story is so late, especially since I missed Monday's post. School has been so busy this week and I've also had a bunch if extracurricular lately. I'll try and be more on time from now on (Don't hold me to that) Also! I got the idea for this one shot from @hanllo-kitty

Word Count: 0.8k

Song Suggestions: Invisible String - Taylor Swift

It was a good job, a great job really. The cafe was in a nicer part of town and people would subconsciously give nice tips so your pay was good. Rarely were customers terrible. Most people that came in were students or really busy people rushing in and going.

There were a few regulars. Like Joe, Joe was an eighty year old man who came in everyday for a coffee and a sandwich. While he waited he would talk about the lotto numbers and how his kids were doing. There was also Lola, she was a journalist who spent most of her day sitting in the corner of the cafe while refilling the same cup until closing.

But there was only one regular you would think about while getting ready for work.

Come on, I don't know his name. Don't shoot the messenger.

He'd been coming in for the past three months almost everyday, right after the cafe opened for a coffee. He always looked a little tired and acted like it too. He barely made conversation and normally shuffled out of the store in the same fashion as the other overworked people; quickly.

You hadn't learned his name yet. He always seemed to forget to say it when you asked, which resulted in you making up something.

"Guy with the sweater vest!"

"Guy in the purple!"

"Guy with the scarf!"

You get the point.

He was your favourite regular because of his looks. God, even when he was incredibly sleep deprived he looked beautiful. He had brown hair that fell just below his sharp jaw. Brown eyes that always happened to be in the light from the cafe window, making the small gold flakes in his eyes shine. He was normally dressed in a sweater vest and neutral pants, he probably worked at some type of office. The one part of him that stood out in his outfits were his converse, odd for the rest of his outfit. You could've sworn a few times you saw brightly coloured mismatched socks.

***

The sound of the cafe bell echoed through the nearly empty shop, having only opened half an hour ago. Smiling in the direction of the person walking in you quickly noticed it was 'Guy with *whatever he had on*" who came in. Something was different, he had thick glasses on. That was new.

"Hey, just the regular coffee and donut?" You put the order into the computer, looking back up at him. Taking in the new look.

"Yeah, thanks." His lips creased into a line, you called it a tired smile, the same one he made everyday. He handed over his money and poured the change into the tip jar then stepped back to wait for his order.

A couple minutes later you came back to the counter with his order. "Guy with the glasses!"

He did his usual, smiled and grabbed his order saying bye. But just when he reached the threshold of the door he paused and turned. "Why do you do that?"

Having already turned around you paused, this was the first time he'd talked to you in a clear voice. You weren't really sure what he meant. "Do what? Did I get your order wrong?"

He cleared his throat and seemed a little frustrated. "You never say my name, you just call me guy with something. Is it just to annoy me?"

"What? No, you've just never told me your name." Laughing a little, realising the misunderstanding.

"I didn't?" His face changed to confusion, "Oh my gosh, I didn't." He realised his mistake then his face flushed a shade of red.

"Don't worry, it's okay. Guy with the glasses." You laughed, looking around the cafe for a minute, strange it was still pretty empty.

"I am so sorry, I thought I told you and you just wanted to annoy me. I feel like a jerk, you seem so nice." Genuinely sorry he apologised profusely. "Can I make it up to you?"

Deciding to take the chance, you'd been daydreaming about this guy for months. "Well, maybe you could take me on a date." A little shocked by your own boldness, your face went up like twelve degrees.

"Uh, yeah…" He trailed off, clearly flustered. "Yeah, I would really like that."

"Well then, it's a date." You beamed, internally jumping up and down out of excitement. Since when were you so forward? He made that smile he made everyday before turning towards the door again.

That's when you realised.

"Wait!" You shouted, louder than you expected. Causing your coworker to drop a cup. "You still haven't told me your name."

"It's Spencer. I'll make sure to be back tomorrow." He nodded again and chuckled lightly before finally walking through the door.

God could tomorrow morning come any quicker.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #fandom #fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn!reader #sofiareidings

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thequeendesi · 11 months

Text

Two Pink Lines

Title: Two Pink Lines

Alt Title: I’ve Heard Worse News

Warnings: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of bad childhood

Pairing: Fezco x Reader x Platonic!Ash (lil bro ash and big sis reader ftw)

Disclaimer: I don’t own you or the euphoria franchise. I own the writing.

Rating: PG I reckon

Word count: 2k

A/N: I haven’t written anything in three months! I hope this doesn’t suck! I’ve had so much going on lately! I’ve gotten into my own place w my bf, I had a car crash, a major pregnancy scare, and a job promotion lol. I’m doing alright rn, so I figured I’d take the chance and finally get something out again! Thank you all for being so so kind and patient w my inconsistent ass 😂 I genuinely love all of y’all!!

✨✨

You sighed, placing the test face down on the counter. Music playing from your phone to try and ease your nerves. Snooze by SZA playing low as you slipped down the wall. You pulled your knees to your chest as you allowed the song to play through, your brain running the entire time.

The jokes you made to your boyfriend, Fez, were just that. Jokes. In no way did you actually think you were ready for children. You had just graduated from East Highland less than a week ago.

Your childhood wasn’t the most pleasant. You had been living with your boyfriend since you two were 13 and 14. Fez was all you knew, and you were all he knew. You knew everything about him and his life. His grandma, his job, his brother. And you fit like a glove in all of it. His grandmother took you in with open arms and loved you as her own.

You didn’t know what you’d do with a baby, you didn’t know where it would fit into your current life. You worked at the local breakfast place, it was like a Waffle House, but called MeeMaw Judy’s Home.

Your mind drifted to Fez. He didn’t want kids. You knew for a fact because he always told you “keep it movin’ ma”, everytime you passed baby aisles. Hell, the two of you even had talked about it last night. As far as Fezco was concerned, he didn’t see a baby in y’all’s plans for at least another 4 years.

The song ended and you took a deep breath. You couldn’t begin to explain how long those 3 minutes were. “Alright.” You whispered to yourself as you stood up, turning over the test you stared at them. Two pink lines. You’re not even sure you’ve ever seen pink lines so dark.

“Fuck.” You whispered as you placed the test on the counter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you said, voice cracking at the last fuck, tears welling in your eyes. You had false positives before, only for the next test to have been negative. But this time you knew you were pregnant. Nausea, fatigue, as well as paired with your period being late not one, but two weeks? Oh yea, your eggo is preggo.

Your thoughts ran to a complete halt as the door opened. “(Y/N)! Can you make waffles… what the fuck is all of this?” Ash asked, looking at the test on the counter. Your heart sank as you tried to explain. “Look, I just… just please get out. Please.” You pleaded, trying to push him out. “Hey, it’s ok. Stop stressin’. Y’a’int in trouble. Just… y’know. Take a deep breath.”

Ash grabbed your hand, thumb rubbing over your knuckles, a trait he picked up from Fez after he noticed it helped you calm down. “Ash, please. I need to think of how to tell Fez.” Ash shook his head before leading you to sit on the couch. “Worry about calmin’ your ass down first. You’re acting like your life is over. It’s just a baby.” Ash let go of your hand.

You felt yourself relax a little. How was he so calm? How is your life not over? Taking another look at the test, you grabbed it. “This wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” You walked out of the bathroom to the living room.

You sat on the couch and let go of the breath you were holding. “Why’re you so freaked out?” Ash asked, taking a seat next to you.

“Ash, you’re 14. I really don’t think any of this is your business. You’re too young.” You said, placing the test face down on the table.

“(Name).” Ash said plainly, looking at you.

“Okay. Fair.” You nodded, before taking a deep breath. You’re really about to vent to your boyfriend’s 14 year old brother? Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Ash looked at you as a mother figure, seeing as his only real one was incapacitated.

“Fez doesn’t want kids. Not now at least.” You

“Well, ya should’ve been safer, huh?” He crossed his arms. “What’s the plan (Y/N)?” Ash asked you, leaning back into the couch.

“I don’t know. Haven’t thought that far ahead. A minute ago I found out I’m…” The words got caught in your throat as you leaned onto the couch as well. “You think MeeMaw’ll let me bring a kid to work?” You half joked.

“I’ve seen what she allows, it wouldn’t surprise me.” Ash said, a small smile finding itself on his rather stoic face.

Mrs. Judy, or MeeMaw as you and everyone called her, was a kinder old lady. Standing at a firm 4’10 inches, she’s seen a thing or two. She was always kind to you, making sure you had food to bring home to the boys. She knew your upbringing and the conditions that landed you to who you became.

“When’s Fez supposed to come home anyways?” You asked Ash. “Not sure. He’s sellin’ at some kid’s party tonight. What’s her name, Kat, I think?” He shrugged. “He probably won’t be home until midnight then,” you sighed, rubbing your face, “gives me at least 2 hours to think about what I’m gonna do.”

“I got somethin’ you can do then.”

“Waffles?” You half-laughed, looking at Ash through your fingers. “I think we need to buy eggs and milk for it actually.”

“Damn.” He placed his arms next to his sides. “We can watch a movie?” You suggested. “I got Maddy’s Netflix.” You shrugged.

“Better than waitin’ around for nothin’.” Ash grabbed the remote and handed it to you.

Turning on a movie on Netflix, some random movie by Adam Sandler, who’s movies were yours and Ash’s favorite way to pass time.

He quickly tuned into it, but your eyes glued onto the white slender test. Millions of thoughts ran through your mind.

Was Fez gonna be mad?

Was he gonna leave? Or more so, make you leave?

Was he gonna tell you it’s ok?

Was he gonna marry you? God, what a thought. Marriage wasn’t a bad thing, by no means. When it works.

By 12, your mother had been married 6 times, and two of them were remarriages to your father. Screaming, crashing and crying was no stranger to you.

You remember the argument your parents had that led them to that final divorce and you into Fez’s home.

“(Mother Name)! What’s this shit? You’re pregnant? Again?!”

“I was gonna tell you! You went snooping through the trash? Are you fucking insane?!” CRASH, you heard as the test that was thrown at the picture frame that had a picture of you holding your half-brother. You sniffed the tears back as you packed your bag faster.

“You should’ve wrapped it if you didn’t want this shit!” She screamed at him. “Fuck that! You’re just as much to blame! Is it even mine, whore?!”

“Oh fuck you, you bastard!”

“No thank you! That’s how we landed here! Just go! Go and fucking take your goddamn mistakes with you!”

Mistake? That’s all your father thought of you?

“You act like I wanted to get pregnant again, or any time beforehand! I didn’t want these fucking kids anymore than you or Jerald and Will did! Besides, (Name) is the only one here!”

Nevermind, there was your mother being the way she was. You looked at the broken glass on the floor as you stood in the doorframe.

“I’m not going with her.” You stated, in your broken little voice. “You’re not fucking staying with me.”

“I wasn’t fucking planning on it.” You walked past your father. “The fuck are you going?” Your mother asked.

“Why do you care?” You grabbed the doorknob, the rest of your body turning to look at your parents. “I’m a mistake to both of you, so why is it such a big fucking deal if I just grant you both your wish of getting out of your hair?” You asked them, tears free-flowing down your cheeks.

“Why the hell did you have kids if you hate them?” You asked them. “Why do I have to be an adult when I’m 13?”

Your parents stared at you, expression unrecognizable. “Well, just so you know, I hate you guys. So don’t worry, the feelings aren’t one sided.” You opened the door and walked out, closing it behind you.

You used your finger to wipe the tear that began to slip down your cheek. You haven’t seen your parents since that day, hell, you don’t even know if they’re alive or dead. You sent a graduation invitation to the house your mother lived at, but received the initiation back with RETURN TO SENDER in red letters over your face.

You looked over at Ash, who was fast asleep with his head on your lap. You smiled a little at him, and your gaze returned to the test.

Your phone began ringing from the bathroom and you gently placed Ash’s head on the couch. He curled up in a ball as he got re-comfortable. You walked to the bathroom and grabbed your phone.

Answering the call, you placed the phone to your ear. “Hey ma.” Fez’s voice sounded like honey over the phone. “Hey baby.” You said, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you threw the box in the trash. “Ash ‘sleep?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You answered, walking back to the living room to grab the test.

“You good?” He asked into the phone as you heard his blinker. “Yea… no. I just… we gotta talk when you get home.” You answered, walking to the front door. “I’ll just meet you at the car so we can talk without waking up Ash.” You told him, hanging the phone up.

You walked to the front of the house and leaned against the gate. You put the test in your bra as you waited.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you watched the bright lights pull in front of you. Putting your head down you walked over to the passenger seat and got in.

“What’s wrong?” He looked at you, his hand moving to hold your face. His hand rested on your cheek as he made you look at him. “Whatever it is, ma, it’s gonna be aight.” He said, thumb stroking the soft flesh of your cheek.

Your lip quivered as you let go of the breath you were holding. “I’m pregnant, Fez.” You said straight out, taking the test out of your bra to hand to him, eyes drifting to the floor.

“Oh.” His hand leaves your cheek to grab the test, turning on an overhead light, he looks at it. “I’m sorry.” You sniffed, eyes welling with tears as you stared at your feet on the floorboard.

“Whatchu sorry for? This ain’t bad news. I thought you was finna tell me someone died.” He looked at you. “It ain’t like we knew it was gonna happen. Shit happens, ma. We’ll figure it out, somehow. Hell, grandma did.”

“You’re not mad?” You asked him. “I’m not thrilled. But that part ain’t important no more.” He took your face in his hands, test between his fingers. “You’re what’s important to me, ma. Without you, I don’t know where I’d be.” He kissed you softly. “We’re gonna have a baby. I’ve heard of worse news from you.” He said against your lips.

“I was scared you’d yell at me.” You confessed.

“Yell?” He pulled away from you. “Not about somethin’ like this.” He shook his head. “We got other shit to worry about rather than yellin’. Yellin’ ain’t gon’ get anything done other than stress my babies out.” He said simply.

“I got milk and eggs. Ash texted me.” He said.

“I guess I ain’t getting out of making them waffles, huh?”

“You figured you know better about that.” Fez half joked, grabbing the milk and eggs bag from the backseat.

“Now come on, I’m tired. It’s been a long night. We can talk more in the morning.” You patted his thigh and kissed his cheek.

He laughed a little and nodded his head. “Alright ma.”

#des’ writing #euphoria x reader #desi’s oneshot #desi’s writing #fezco x reader #euphoria fez #euphoria fezco x reader #euphoria imagine #fezco imagine

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storiesforallfandoms · 2 months

Text

not used to normal ~ chris evans

word count: 2533

request?: yes!

@vrittivsanghavi

“Hey! I love your imagines!

Would you be up for writing one with chris x reader? Something similar to this song?

Love youuu”

description: in which she struggles to adjust to normal after a toxic relationship, but he’s willing to help her figure it out

pairing: chris evans x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of a toxic relationship, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

You and Chris could not be more different. Your entire life was chaos and mess, from your family to your past relationships. Your definition of “normal” was leagues different than most people’s. Then there was Chris, who had the healthiest family out of anyone you had ever known and, for the most part, he didn’t have anything bad to say about his exes and their relationships. He just said the relationships came to an amicable end.

You were just out of a particularly toxic relationship when you met Chris. You weren’t looking for another serious relationship and were instead just hooking up for some rebounds. Chris was very sweet, but you couldn’t let yourself fall for him. You weren't ready to let someone in, even if they were sweet and incredibly handsome. You were a little surprised when Chris was so understanding of your rejection, and something told you to give him your number anyway to keep in touch.

That was a few months ago, and now you were going on your first date.

He hadn’t pushed for it to happen. He had been very respectful and hadn’t once brought up going out again since your initial meeting. To your surprise, you were the one who asked him about getting dinner. You found yourself falling for him with every passing day and eventually you just couldn’t stand being only friends. And thus, you asked him out for dinner and he happily agreed.

You were mere minutes away from Chris coming to pick you up and you were still struggling to find an outfit. Everything in your closet gelt wrong. Jeans and a blouse? Too casual. A long, elegant dress? Too fancy. A maroon cocktail dress that was just above the knee, had spaghetti straps, and showed off a little cleavage? Well, you really liked that one actually. You thought with the right makeup and maybe a cardigan just in case, that it could be the perfect first date dress.

But you couldn’t stop the nagging voice in your head. It sounded like your ex, and he was snapping at you for wearing something so short and revealing. You could hear the insulting names he had called you so vividly, as if he were still there yelling.

You had to remind yourself that your ex wasn’t here anymore. Even if he was, he had no control over what you wore. No one did, besides you. But even reminding yourself of that didn’t do anything to ease the memory of his voice. Before you knew it, so much time had passed and you were still staring at yourself in the mirror. Chris would be here any minute and you still didn’t have your hair or makeup done.

You were just finishing your hair when a knock came at your front door. You cursed under your breath as you raced to answer it. Chris was stood there, looking handsome as ever. You couldn’t help but smile upon seeing him.

“Hey,” you said. “You look great.”

“So do you,” he said.

You shook your head. “Ah, I’m not fully ready yet. I don’t have my makeup on or anything.”

You were stunned into silence at his comment. You were almost tempted to call his bluff on it; to say you didn’t believe that he actually meant it and was just saying it for your sake. But you knew Chris was an honest man. He genuinely thought you were beautiful without makeup.

There wasn’t any time for you to try and do your makeup anyways, so you grabbed your purse and followed Chris out to his car. Like a gentleman, he held the door open for you as you got in. The ride to the restaurant was mostly some small talk. Since you two had been talking for months, you had already gotten past the getting to know each other phase, which was good because you usually hated that phase, but it made first date conversation incredibly awkward.

He opened the door for you again and even offered you a hand to help you out of his car. You were continuously shocked by how much of a gentleman he was. You made a mental note to send his mom a bouquet of her favorite flowers.

The restaurant was one of the most fancy places you had ever been to. You had been to a number of fine dining places before, but nothing as upscale as this. Looking at the prices on the menu almost made you nauseous. It was the one moment you were grateful for Chris’ celebrity status.

He ordered a bottle of wine for the two of you to share. After pouring up two glasses, he raised his glass towards you.

“What are we toasting to?” you asked.

“You decide,” he said.

You thought for a moment before saying, “To finally giving this a chance.”

His smile was like a child on Christmas morning.

You ordered an appetizer and your entrees. When the appetizers came out first, Chris started digging in right away. You hesitated, another unwelcome memory coming up in your mind: your ex telling you how gross you looked when you ate. He had told you it was his biggest pet peeve about you. You tried so many times to fix the problem, but it never worked and he just continued to complain.

“Are you okay?” Chris asked, bringing you back to reality.

“Oh, yeah,” you said. “Just zoned out, sorry.”

You took some of the appetizer onto your small plate and began eating, being mindful of taking small bites and covering your mouth as you chewed. When your main course came, you repeated the process.

“I’m not used to knowing so much about someone before the first date,” Chris said at some point after the two of you had been silent for a while. “It kind of takes away every talking point I had.”

You chuckled. “I was thinking the same thing. Like, what do people who know each other even talk about on first dates? The weather?”

“Well, you’ve never told me much about your family. Maybe we could talk about that, if you want.”

Your smile faltered, but only a little. You hoped Chris didn’t notice.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love your family. You did, very much so. And they weren’t bad people or anything. They were just messier than Chris’ family, so to speak. Your parents had gone through a messy divorce, the kind where they still hated each other’s guts to that day. They couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as one another. When you graduated, you had to have them sit on complete opposite ends of the auditorium for your cap and gown ceremony. You were an only child, and you had a good connection with both of your parents. There was just always some sort of crisis between them, and they always managed to drag you into the middle of it.

“It’s just me, no siblings,” you started. “My parents got divorced when I was a kid.”

“How young?”

“I was like, five or six I think?”

Chris whistled. “That’s rough. I thought it was hard when mine got divorced when I was 18.”

There was some comfort in knowing that Chris was also a child of divorce. At least his home life wasn’t as picture perfect.

“Do they get along, at least?” he asked.

You laughed, humorlessly. “Yeah, they get along about as well as cats and dogs. Actually, that’s giving them too much credit. They get along as well as cats and mice.”

“Jesus. I can’t imagine having to deal with that at such a young age.”

“Be lucky you didn’t have to.”

You tried not to sound too bitter, but you also couldn’t help but stab your food with your fork as if it had personally offended you.

“I think their divorce must have something to do with why I usually date such shitty men,” you said before you could stop yourself. Your eyes widened as you looked back up at Chris. “Ignore that. I don’t even know where that came from.”

But he didn’t seem offended or weirded out by what you said. Instead, he responded, “It’s alright. You mentioned you had a bad breakup when we first met. I assume he was also a bad person in general.”

You nodded. “You have no idea.”

You thought back every time you heard your ex’s voice in your head. Not just tonight, but in general. Even when you were just trying to go about your day to day life, you could hear the way he criticized and berated you. You had always known while you were in your relationship that he wasn’t a good guy, but you turned a blind eye to the red flags for so long that it just felt like a normal relationship. It took a lot to get you to finally come to your senses and dump his sorry ass, but by that point the damage had been done. He gave you trauma that you would be carrying around for a very long time.

You glanced up at Chris, who was still looking at you as well. You wondered if he really deserved to be with someone with so much baggage. Sure, he liked you now, but how much would he like you once he knew what he was dealing with? He was such a nice guy, he deserved to be with someone else who was just as nice and not damaged as he was.

The thought brought tears to your eyes and you quickly looked away from him. Not quick enough, though, as his hand quickly reached over to take hold of yours and he said, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

A noise came out of you that was half laugh and half sob. You shook your head. “You didn’t make me upset. Trust me, you’ve made me very happy in the few months that we’ve known one another. You are one of the most genuinely good people I think I have ever met.”

“Thanks, I pride myself on not being an asshole.”

When you laughed this time, it was definitely just a laugh. “I just worry that...if things go further with us, that it won’t be good for you.”

He furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, my last relationship went on for a long time. Far too long. To a point where the only thing I knew was a toxic and shitty relationship. I have a lot of bad hardwiring in my brain right now around relationships. That’s why I turned you down when we first met. I wasn’t ready to get back into anything serious because I was too afraid. But I really like you, so I wanted to give this a try, and now I’m worried that my baggage is going to be too much for you to handle and you don’t deserve that.”

He squeezed your hand, which caused you to stop talking. You realized you had been rambling, and you weren’t really sure if you were making any sense.

“Listen, I understand,” he said. “When something like that happens, it fucks with your mind for a long time. I never wanted to rush you into something you weren’t ready for, but I also don’t want you to push me away because you think it will be better for me. Whether you want me to be a friend or a boyfriend, I’ll be here for you. I’ll help you through whatever you’re going through. I really like you, too.”

You tried to blink back the new tears that were forming in your eyes, but it was nearly impossible. To try and lighten the mood, you joked, “Stop being such a good guy. Seriously, have one flaw please.”

He laughed, and the mood was successfully lightened.

You continued on with your date and it went very well from there on. You were so full from your appetizer and meal, but Chris insisted on ordering a dessert to take with you. He said it was some of the best dessert he had ever had, and if you didn’t eat it now you had to have it later on (his words).

He paid for your meal and the two of you left. It had gotten a bit colder while you were inside, and you only then realized that you forgot to bring a cardigan like you planned. You shivered as the cold air touched your bare shoulders and legs, and wrapped your arms around yourself to try and retain any heat you had left from being in the restaurant.

“Are you cold?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, I forgot to bring a jacket or anything,” you responded. He started to shrug out of his jacket. “You don’t have to give me yours! Your car isn’t parked that far away.”

“Once you catch a chill, it’s hard to get rid of,” he explained. “Here, just wear it till we get to the car at least.”

He wrapped his jacket around your shoulders. You pulled it close to you, letting the heat from it warm you up. You took a moment to breathe in the scent of him that was on the jacket.

The ride home was more lively than before. You had managed to finally find a good conversational stride that hadn’t died down since you had been eating. At some point while driving you home, Chris reached over to take your hand in his. He held it the rest of the way back to your place. You hoped he couldn’t feel the fact that your body was on fire just from his touch.

He insisted on walking you to your front door once he had reached your house. You weren’t about to say no. You almost didn’t want the night to end and any amount of extra time you could get you were going to take.

“I had a great time tonight,” you told him once you had reached your door.

“So great that you’d like to do it again?” he asked, a hopeful look on his face.

You smiled and nodded. “I would very much like to do this again, yes.”

“Great. Okay. Yeah, great.”

You giggled. The two of you lingered for a moment. You wondered which of you was going to break and leave first.

“Can I kiss you?” he finally asked after some time.

Instead of responding, you moved to kiss him first. It wasn’t perfect, you kind of lunged at him at first. You both stumbled and laughed about it. Once you had regained yourselves, Chris kissed you again. This one was definitely better than the first, but now it also made it difficult to want to stop kissing.

When Chris finally pulled away, you tried to follow him, but he laughed and held you back.

“If I don’t stop, I won’t leave,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound too terrible, though.”

He shook his head, but had an amused smile on his face. He kissed your forehead and took a step back. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You couldn’t stop smiling until you fell asleep.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #rpf

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thisisnotmeta · 4 months

Text

Million Dollar Man

Chapter 1

Sent.

There it was—my very first music contract signed.

My hands swiped back and forth between the 'sent' and 'draft' inboxes, confirming the reality of the moment. The air shuddered with anticipation as I blankly stared at my inbox, silently praying for a reply in the mere 1.4 seconds since I hit 'send.'

Fresh out of university last year, I found myself grappling with the realisation that I needed to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Studying history had its limits—teaching or diving into more debt for a specialised master's degree were the conventional routes. However, nestled in the corners of my life was my little secret—I'd always been a songwriter. It wasn't something anyone really knew about until 3 months ago. After a drunken night in with my mum, I mustered the courage to share one of my demos with her. Her insistence that it was the greatest piece of music she'd ever heard, albeit the expected maternal praise, boosted my confidence. The morning after, armed with nothing more than my shitty Amazon mic and GarageBand, I sent three of my best demos to four different music labels across the country.

In the agonising months of waiting for a reply from any label, hope slipped through my fingers with each passing day. Just when despair threatened to engulf me, a glimmer of possibility emerged two weeks ago. Emails from two labels requesting in-person meetings to discuss my music further landed in my inbox, a lifeline amid the silence. Navigating a whirlwind 24-hour trip to London, I juggled the meetings, fueled by a mix of nerves and excitement. Having returned to my parents' home post-university, my part-time receptionist job became the financial anchor for one day moving out and starting my own new little life.

The journey from the North to London felt long, god it was so long, yet the promise of these potential signings kept me going. The meetings with both labels exceeded expectations, but Dirty Hit held a specific pull on me. They not only understood my musical aspirations but, to my disbelief, I met specifically with the label's founder, Jamie Oborne. A stark contrast to the very very lovely but somewhat underwhelming talent scout at the other label, Dirty Hit resonated with me on every level—the sound, the artists, the team. It felt like a perfect fit, a musical home where my compositions seamlessly blended with their illustrious discography.

The dream was a reality when Jamie extended the signing offer. Without hesitation, I accepted. The train ride back, though again, immensely long, was some of the best fun I’ve ever had. Amidst the clatter of the tracks, I scribbled down fragments for future songs, mapped out my imaginary world tour, envisioned albums, and even planned my Met Gala outfit. The euphoria of realising a lifelong dream had just basically become a reality in a matter of months hadn’t given me any time to process anything. But I was absolutely ready to potentially start something absolutely amazing. And here I was sitting in front of my MacBook, staring blankly at my Gmail.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind, a lot of online meetings, emailing and future discussing. Jamie liked my demos and wanted to get them produced and mixed professionally as well as teach me how to do it myself. I travelled back to London a few times in the weeks prior to practice and test with different producers the team thought I’d mix well with. My most successful session was my most recent, as Dirty Hit expensed a hotel for me for two nights in London to focus on my time in the studio. Ben Gleason, one of Dirty Hit’s leading producers, was someone who truly understood my music and shaped it in a way that I could genuinely hear one of my demos appearing on the radio, it was crazy. His vision and expertise were admirable to anyone. My demo, over the past 15 hours we worked on it, had turned into a real, titled potential single – ‘Million Dollar Man’.

Before I was sent to travel back home, we sent it off to the team to listen to and give feedback. It was a success, thank god. Waiting for the train to come in at Kings Cross, the sound of my ringtone filled my headphones. As I looked at my phone, I wasn’t fazed by the ‘unknown’ number and filled my boredom by answering it anyway.

‘Hello?’ I said in a slow voice, totally expecting some type of phone provider or accident scam, which usually came with answering unknown numbers.

“Hi, is this Camille?” A chirpy, womanly voice replied back to me.

“It is, yeah,” I replied nonchalantly. “Who is this, sorry?”

“Perfect! It’s Holly from Dirty Hit,” She replied. My breathing hitched, okay this phone call was important then and not just fun. This must be Jamie’s assistant, who I met a couple times through our Zoom meetings. “Thought I’d give you a little ring, so you can get my number saved and so I can update you on some things! We’ve just had a meeting today about what we want to do with you in the next few weeks and we went through everything you talked about, and we were thinking about potentially focusing you more on studio time right now, and we are wanting you to build on the songs you are in the process of and create one really really strong song that we can put out as your debut. What are your thoughts on that?”

“I think that’s a great idea! Ben and I were brainstorming a lot of songs that had great potential, so it would be cool to work with him again,” I practically begged through the phone. Ben is most definitely my favourite producer in the three I’d worked with in the short time. As much as I think Million Dollar Man is perfect, there are so many that might even end up better.

“Yeah, Ben is one of the best, especially for your sound,” she agrees, pausing for a second as she clicks what sounds like a pen and takes time to write something down. “We were thinking of sending you and a couple of our producers on a work getaway and maybe taking the time that you are there to write some songs and find your own dynamic with them, what do you think?”

“Of course, I’d love to!” I exclaim through the phone. Walking through the station to get to my soon departing train back home. Amazing, more studio work, more song writing - I have been dreaming of getting phone calls like this for years.

I have so many ideas in my head and written in my notebook just waiting to be explored with real professionals like Ben. I just prayed silently in my head that my quick praise of him would lead them sending him on the getaway along with whoever else they wanted to send with me - probably Joel or Vanna, the other two producers I had worked with in the time I’d been here. Joel’s sound was old school and he loved that classic drum in the background. Of course I didn’t hate it; he always made it sound gorgeous, but I loved the more earthy, tender sounds - songs that you could sit in the bath and vibe/pour your eyes out to. Vanna’s sound was cool, she worked a lot with the 1975, Dirty Hit’s biggest signing. Working with her was very fun, hearing about her stories with them and lots of other big musicians she has produced allowed me to have a little fangirl moment a couple times in the studio.

“Do you have an idea on which producers are coming along?” I continued.

“I’m just gonna give Ben a call and see when he’s available,” she replied. Yes! Thank god. “Thought I’d give you a call first before I called anyone else… but I know you haven’t met yet but Jamie thinks it would be a great opportunity to work with Matty aswell.”

“Matty… Healy, from the 1975?” I stutter. Surely not, I know he worked with Baebadoobee and a couple others on their latest work but surely he wouldn’t take the time to work with someone who’s just starting, would he? I wasn’t a huge 1975 fan, but I knew of their songs and Matty’s work and I admired them a lot. I’d kill to get to the level they are, but all in good time.

“Yeah, actually!” She laughed slightly through the phone. Woah. “He actually works a lot with our artists to establish their sound, you know what I mean? and he’s really talented, I promise. He was a part of our meeting today and he’s got a lot of good ideas that I think you’ll like, not to mention all the advice he can give you with starting out and he can talk you through his own experiences as well.”

“That’s amazing, I love his work!” I smile to myself, probably looking like an idiot in front of all these serious, fast walking Londoners. It seems so unbelievable that Matty Healy would take any time out of his busy schedule to work on my music, he must be bored. “If that’s something he is interested in, then I’d absolutely love to work together on something.”

“Okay, that’s perfect!” She replied. “No, he’s very interested, don’t worry. He went with Beabadoobee on a work getaway a few months ago, working on some new stuff and they made some gorgeous music - think he just wants the bragging rights again really. But, honestly he’s a star, you'll love him.”

As I was settling myself down on the busy train, Holly was writing down my best dates for the trip and ended the phone call pleasantly soon after. A Sunday to Wednesday a few weeks from now was the time they had written down for Matty’s availability and that worked with me! God knows where they were going to take us, but I couldn’t help but get excited. Me, Ben and sexy Matty Healy. I just hope he’s not a dick.

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vetusmemoriae · 1 year

Text

Dottore x Male!Reader

Author's note: I should be doing a project about Paradise Lost, but I had an idea for a Dottore fanfic and can't let it go away. I can't believe he didn't only get one gnosis but TWO, like- he's the best. I don't want to offend Scaramouche, but boy... he didn't do shit and that's so sad smh. Dottore, instead, cleaned after your mess and got both the gnosis you lost and the dendro gnosis.

Summary: This takes place after Dottore "leaves" for the first time, Y/n is aware of his doings, and once Dayha and Aether discover this, they're eager to go take everything out of Y/n. What they don't know, is that they're not the only ones to be aware of Y/n.

Recommended song to listen!

Seeing Dottore go after such a long time would never be a pleasant sight for Y/n. Maybe there was drug in one of the coffees Dottore had with him, but he didn't want the doctor to go away, though meybe it was for the better. As one of the consultants of the port, the Fatui had contact with him from a long time ago, and he was aware of some of their concerns in Sumeru. What Y/n realized not so long ago, while he and Dottore were talking, is that he wasn't really a stranger.

'I must know what are your concerns in Sumeru before letting you deposit any belongings here.' Said Y/n while both of them were walking around Port Ormos, searching for a cafe to sit and talk for a while.

'I think you might already know, Y/n. A Fatui's work is business. I don't want anything else.'

'You may be a doctor, but, even if I don't look like one, I'm a scholar too. As one, I'm not stupid. Fatui's business never bring any good. News say Liyue suffered an attack from the Fatui not so long ago. I will need more information if you want this to go right over my head and not inform the city of your arrive, as I would do usually.'

'A prudent boy... I am no terrorist, not like the child in Liyue. We were all kind of... disappointed with him and his actions. But I am nothing like him, Y/n, I am a civilised man, willing to give something to get something in exchange. I will throw myself to the pool, perhaps you want money?'

'Perhaps not. I don't need money, and it would mean nothing in exchange for Sumeru's safety.'

'I'm afraid that's not one of your concerns, right?'

'You guess right. I just want to share a cup of coffee or tea, and talk. Once I get to know you and you get to know me, I will know if I should let any of your equipment in.'

Both of them went into a cafe, and instead of being greeted of greeting anyone, they went without asking right into one of the private rooms, where a waiter recived them and took their orders.

There, they talked for a while. To both of their surprise, they had more in common than anyone would suspect. Apart from some ideas, from some ways of thinking, they were from the same village. Little more they needed to say. Y/n let Dottore's equipment in, and a nice friendship begun.

That's what happened around a month ago. They met at least six times a week in the same spot, only to talk about memories. Y/n should have been worried about being close to a Fatui, but there was no way Dottore could hurt him, right? They were friends, more than that, not even once Dottore let the Fatui subordinates to interrupt them, they were ordered to take care that no one interrupted them. There was even a rumor that Y/n and Dottore had already met before. There were two lines of thinking between the Fatui regarding Y/n and Dottore: Some thought Dottore was gaining his trust to use him later on, some other said his interest was genuine. But none of them suspected anything beyond that.

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Coming to the departure of Dottore, Y/n saw it from afar with a sad look on his face. He didn't know what could happen, if he would be back, and if he had done the right thing leting him in in the first place... But there he was, sitting at the ship go away. When he stood up he didn't have any time to leave before Dayha and Aether stopped him.

'You seem to know The Doctor, am I right?' Said the woman, with her hand at Y/n's neck.

'What about it? He left.'

'We need to know what's he about.'

'What do you mean?'

'The Fatui are enver up to any good...'

'Yeah!' Claimed Paimon. 'That weirdo never does anything good! Paimon's sure he'll be back'

'Why would I know?'

'We know you've been talking with him time and time again. Now, speak before I change my mind and go for the hard way instead.'

'I can't say a thing, I know nothing.'

'There's no way you have been talking with him for hours and know nothing'

'Paimon thinks the same! That's suspicious... Talk before we beat you up!'

'I am no fighter, please, believe me, I can't say anything'

Dahya got her claymore in hand, ready to swing it at the helpless man that didn't want to know where he got into. He tried to walk back, rather falling into the ground that to be about to be beaten up. But she stopped right before she hit him.

'I knew you would show up.' Beside Y/n was Dottore, with the calm that characterized him. 'Tell us what you will do, or he get's it.'

'It would be reckless of me to tell you what I plan on doing. You should already know, I'm nothing more than a scholar, a researcher with an experiment.'

'I should have no mercy with you...'

'You are just a big mean guy!'

'That's hurtful... You, traveller, should tell your little companion to speak less, bad things can happen.'

'Paimon is not...!'

'Shut up.' Dottore got closer to them. 'As nº 2 of the Fatui, I have a work to do, business; and as a scholar, I have a hypothesis to verify and an experiment to finish. Be so kind and leave, or I'll have to take measures.'

'You don't intimidate us, Dottore. By your own you're useless.'

'Useless...?' Dottore seemed annoyed, a never good sight.

'You only came for your little price, you used him, because you knew we would come to him to get information about you. You can have a like in him, but there's no way you really care about him.' Dahya looked at Y/n. 'A Harbinger would never feel anything positive towards anyone, even less towards a merchant like any other.'

'I know what you want to do, Dahya. You won't get it.' Dottore let in sight a small ball, a strange smell flourishing from it. 'It has been running from some minutes now, it should be doing effect by now, right?'

Dahya tried to stay up, but wasn't able to hold her weapon or stand anymore. The traveler took his weapon out and swinged it at Dottore, trying to get him, he too fell right before the Fatui.

'Useless fucks...' Muttered him, crouching to get a better view of his victims. 'How dare them mess with what's mine...'

But Y/n was not asleep, he was still there, watching horrified how some strangers were unconscious, all because the Fatui that treated him kindly. Dottore looked at Y/n with no expresion, and all that came out was a light smile before he stood up again.

'They will be away for a while now. You didn't fall for it because you were exposed to little doses as we met.'

'Did they say the truth?'

'About what?'

'About you just using me.' Dottore said nothing. 'So it's true.'

'You think so? That all the time I spent with you was... nothing? You learned nothing. If I didn't care about us I'd have never spent time with you in the first place. I sacrificed my time and when someone comes talking otherwise you chose to believe them. You hurt me...'

'I'm sorry, I-'

'No talking will take you out of this. You belittled me... I expected more of you.'

'I just want to know the truth. Was there any point on meeting me, in hanging out with me so frequently, if you're going to ignore me from now on? I might be only entertainment, but that would be something. If your plan was that they came to me so you can get them, tell so. I think I already know the answer.'

'Then say it.'

'I want to hear it from you.'

'You entertain me, yes. Want anything else?'

'Say again what you said to them?'

'What are you talking about.'

'I will leave if you don't say it.'

'I have my ways of stopping you.'

'But why would you, what do you want from me so much that you rather not letting me go than killing me. You can keep me shut that way too.'

'But I won't, and rather than confront me about me, you should be grateful.'

'I may then say what you said:' Dottore didn't interrupt him. 'you said you own me.'

'And what so if I did? You have no say in that.'

'So you meant it, you consider me of you possession and I'm cherished as such.'

'Better as a possession than nothing at all, right?'

'I don't question it, but...'

'Don't "but". I'll leave now, I have better things to do.' Dottore got ready to leave. 'I won't save you again, I recommend you leave now.'

Before explaining further, Dottore left, leaving Y/n confused on the ground. At the traveller's hand twitching, Y/n got up and left. What now? Surely Dottore wouldn't come back in a while, right?

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When the sages died, Y/n was aware this was Dottore's doing. Y/n had been hiding for a while, being nowhere to be found and escaping from everyone's sight. Now his plan was over, it must be, he should be able to stop hiding. He had no time to think about it when he was found by a group of Fatuis. It was not the first time Y/n saw a group of Fatuis, but it was the first time since he started hiding, since he knew nothing of Dottore. Maybe they were there to kill him, to take him away.

'The 2nd Harbinger, Dottore, wants to see you.'

'For what?' They didn't answer. 'I will keep going...'

'He ordered that if you don't come willingly, we make you.'

'He's willing to let you hurt me? His plan surely went wrong.'

'We won't, but we have our means.'

'I will go, there's nothing else for me right now.'

Y/n accompanied them, and stopped when, right in front of the ship Dottore came in, he saw him waiting patiently. He was happy, way to happy to anyone's good: ruining that happiness would be dangerous, and so Y/n didn't, he came into the ship without questions. Dottore let Y/n in, in front of him.

'I see you were not hurt, that's great.'

'Was all you wanted to kill the sages?'

'The sages! No, that was not my fault, it was the traveller and the archon's doing, no, I just wanted some... pieces. And the experiment is over, and as I said before...' The ship took off, taking Y/n with them. 'I just have to take the remainings.'

'I have no say in this, right?'

'You get it now! The Fatui will have their trophy, and I will have mine: you.'

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Hi!!! Tbh this is my favourite fanfic until now, I love that yandereish side and I'm very proud of how it turned out. Yesterday I dreamed about him and I'm still left with some need of Dottore. I'm all in for mad scientists <3

#dottore #il dottore #yandere #yan!dottore #yandere dottore #genshin #genshin impact #yandere genshin #male yandere #yandere boy #male reader #x male reader #dottore x reader #dottore x male reader

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meanwaffle · 1 year

Text

Safety (Tsukishima x Reader)

Warning: alcohol, hu culture

Notes: college party moment

You sipped on your drink as you couldn’t take your eyes off the tall, handsome, blonde man across the room. He was chatting with some guys, but he had a bored expression you couldn’t take your eyes off of. He obviously wasn’t enjoying himself very much and it made you wonder why he’d come to a college party if he wasn’t someone who liked them. Maybe his friend made him come. Or he was trying to get laid. Who knows?

What a fucking jerk.

His name was Tsukishima. You sorta knew him already. It was a month or two ago when you both matched on tinder. Tinder was your best friend after all. It was an easy way to find hot and willing guys to keep you company on those lonely nights. The best part was there were usually no strings attached. You didn’t have to shield your heart from getting hurt, you just gotta have fun and spend your young adulthood partying and vibing. You didn’t have to worry about being vulnerable because it was a quick fuck and done.

Oddly enough when you matched with him and started talking to Tsukishima a bit… you got too vulnerable. It wasn't like you at all.

You found yourself blushing when he complimented you. His blunt charm offered a sense of relief. When he said you were beautiful, easy to talk to, how he felt comfortable with you, this bluntness made you truly believe he was being genuine. Over time, his messages started to become short and dull. When that would happen with other guys you’d just roll your eyes and move on to the next. Stupidly enough you kept sending him messages and continuing conversations or starting new ones. You would hold onto each convo starter like it was a life line.

“You look very pretty.” he told you once in response to a selfie you sent of him.

Ah… you wanted him to praise you more.

You wanted to meet him. You didn’t even care about getting laid, you just wanted to see him in person and maybe… hold his hand or something. Like they do in those romcoms! He was so tall after all, you’re so sure if he embraced you that you would melt into his touch.

“When are you free? Let’s go out to dinner.” You’d ask him.

“I’m free on weekends! But if you have plans, my classes end at three!” You’d tell him.

“Shoot me a message whenever you’re available.” You’d messaged him.

Nothing.

After talking nonstop for two weeks, the moment you invited him out he changed. Shorter messages. He took longer to respond. Baseless excuses one after another about how he’s busy, that he’ll let you know the second he’s free. Responding to you obviously became less of a priority as you got left on delivered for hours and hours and hours, until finally you remembered why you originally were just sleeping around.

Men really suck.

You’re glad you remembered before you got too attached.

Enough with all that. Sure it was only a little bit ago, but that was all in the past! Tonight was about having fun! You downed the rest of your drink and mingled in with the crowd once again. Striking conversations left and right, you danced a bit to the music, sang along to the popular songs that got everyone hype. You were having a good time and soon lost yourself in the fun. The alcohol was finally hitting and your confidence skyrocketed.

And there's nothing more powerful than a confident woman with a mission.

“Crap!” You blurted out as you felt yourself back up into someone. You quickly turned around to face whoever it was to apologize. “So sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Oh, that’s alright! No worries.” A fresh, freckled face greeted you. It was a guy, a cute guy. The dark and grayish hair of his went against your usual type, you had a soft spot for blondes, yet his vibe was so oddly kind. At first you wondered what a guy like this was doing at some random shit college party. Though, when his large eyes met yours paired together with a dorky smile all the reasonable thoughts washed away and only one idea filled your brain.

He was your mission.

With a grin, you tilted your head to the side just a tiny bit to subtly emphasize your good side. You fluttered your eyes in that cute manner that's always gotten the guys to take interest. “I don’t think I’ve met you! Do you go to parties a lot?”

You heard him suck in a breath and held back a giggle. The cute eye technique still hasn’t failed you. He was nervous, huh? “Ah, no, I came with a friend just cuz… I don’t know where he is right now actually. Uh! But I’m Yamaguchi.” A tint of red glowed on his cheeks.

You introduced yourself back and quickly started up small talk. At first he was hesitant, fumbling over his words a bit and avoiding direct eye contact with you. Once you got him on the topic of his hobbies, however, he started to go on and on about volleyball. You had to hold back a cringe when the subject of volleyball took place. You had no problem with sports! But, icky enough, Tsukishima also danced on the topic a bunch of times. You were positive he mentioned how he was on the team at school, maybe Yamaguchi was too. Maybe they were teammates? If that's the case, part of you wants to just run away from this guy.

Hm, well…. Doesn’t matter. It’s just a hookup. Besides after geeking out a bit he got comfortable enough to just… let go. You both were swaying to the music and laughing, you felt up on his arm and stroked his ego as you showered him in compliments and praises. He denied them, of course, he was shy and humble. Following every praise of yours with something along the lines of “I’m not all that.” or “I bet you know much cooler guys.”

After some time passed the party was still at full blast. Slowly, you intertwined your fingers with his and glanced up at him with big doey eyes. His expression turned to one of surprise and his entire face was heated. You could even see him biting his lip from nerves alone. “Hey…” you said with a breathy tone. “why don’t we go somewhere quieter?”

Yamaguchi flinched and you watched him nervously gulp. “I, um, l-like where? I mean… you know… my friend is still here and if I’m leaving I should let him know-”

With an air headed smile, you tugged at his arm in the direction of the stairs. “We won’t leave! I know the people who rent this place, we can just go up to her room for a bit. She won’t mind.”

“This isn’t your place t? Shouldn’t we uh, ask then?”

“It’s fine! I’ve done this before.” With that said and done, you made your way over to the stairs. Yamaguchi followed close behind, but as you both were climbing up you were so focused on your gleeful success in getting a cutie in bed that you didn’t hear his hesitant mutters, questioning what you meant by “done this before.”

You pulled him into an empty bedroom and didn’t waste any time. You attached your lips to his and passionately threw your arms around him, pulling him even closer so your tits pressed against him. Internally, he was panicking. He’s never had anyone interested in him in this sort of way, especially someone who would act on it so quickly. It was all happening so fast for him, however, he let himself fall into the moment. Yamaguchi’s thoughts were racing. He couldn’t believe a girl like you would want to be intimate with him. The heat in his cheeks got hotter. Your tongue’s dancing together.

Skillfully using some interesting angles, you managed to get both of you close enough to the bed for you to slowly push him onto the springy mattress. A cute yelp escaped his lips with a subtle panic as you climbed on top of him without detaching yourself from his rosy lips. However, instead of him continuing with the sexy thrill of fucking at a party, he pulled back. You were surprised he’d do that, but the concerned look on his face made you question if you were pushing him into something he didn’t actually want to do. “Are you okay?”

Yamaguchi chewed at his lip. Crazy enough, you’ve only known him for a couple hours and even you could tell he does that when he’s nervous. He wouldn’t make eye contact with you, which was another indicator. His body language told you enough. You rolled off him and sat up on the edge of the bed. You bent down forward and softly smiled in an attempt to ease the tension “Not in the mood?”

Like a lightning bolt, he shot up with a worried expression.” No! I mean yes, I mean, I’m nervous, that’s all. You’re really pretty and It’s just a lot-”

“He’s a virgin.”

Both of you two whipped your heads towards the doorway which was suddenly open with a tall figure leaning against the frame. Tall, blonde, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, you couldn’t stop your mouth from opening a bit in shock as you witnessed none other than Tsukishma there with a sharp glare of disappointment.

“Oh god, Kei! How long have you been standing there?!” Yamaguchi, obviously very flustered, spoke first because you were still stupidly sitting on the end of the bed with your mouth still agape from a lack of knowledge to even know what to say to this guy.

With a glance over at you, then back to his friend, he spoke more. “First of all you should’ve locked the door if you’re going to mess around. And I have been standing here ever since you fumbled the whole making out part.” His eyebrow furrowed, which was odd to you. He seemed to be annoyed with his friend. Was he annoyed that his homie was getting laid and he wasn’t? You certainly couldn’t think of another reason. A logical one for sure.

“I was looking for you so we could finally leave, though I saw her chatting you up and then going up the stairs.” He shot another quick glance over at you. “I could connect the dots.” His tone was irritating to hear. It was like he was talking down to you.

You shoved down any desire to stay quiet and spoke up. “That’s so weird, Tsukishima! And what if we kept going. You were just gonna stand there and watch? You’re such a pervert-”

“Wait, do you two know each other?” Yamaguchi asked, surprised.

“You’re hooking up with someone you met a few hours ago.”

You threw your hands in the air. “It’s college! This is what we do!”

Both of you were huffing and pouting like the drunk idiots you were.

Yamaguchi had no clue what to make of the situation. He was shifting his weight back and forth as he fiddled with his fingers. He kept trying to get a word in, but despite his efforts everything he said fell on deaf ears as both you and Tsukishima kept going back and forth. One petty thing after the other. Tsukishima finally let out a giant scoff and went to turn to his friend. “Let’s just go.” He was thrown back when he realized the friend he was talking to was no longer there. There was just an empty space “Huh? Where did he go?”

“He walked off maybe five minutes ago.”

His nose scrunched up. “And you didn’t think to say anything?”

“I thought the wave goodbye would’ve been enough but I guess I didn’t take into account your lack of awareness.” You responded with yet another eye roll.

He sharply turned towards the door. “Whatever, I’m out of here.”

“I bet, ghosting is your best talent.”

Tsukishima stopped dead in his tracks. His hawk eyes gleamed into you with an emotion you couldn’t quite describe. Even so, you could tell he was offended by what you said. “I didn’t ghost you, you ghosted me.”

Your mouth fell agape for the second time tonight. Was he trying to set a record of how many times can he make you gawk at him like this? Who did he think he was accusing you like that! “Are you being for real right now? You started taking hours to respond to me! Yet your snap score was still going up. You were ignoring me and stopped talking to me. That’s ghosting!”

He turned on his heel to face you again. “But I still responded! Every time! Even if it took me a while to get back to you. You were the one who unadded me out of nowhere!”

“That’s my point, it wasn’t out of nowhere! I had a reason. I wasn’t going to waste my time with a guy who didn’t prioritize me.” You crossed your arms. This was not how you wanted to spend your time at this party. You came here for mindless fun, not a confrontation with some ex situationship.

Unbeknownst to you, Tsukishima’s heart rate was increasing at those words. The idea that you wanted him to prioritize you plagued his thoughts. “I thought we were just going to hook up.”

“Huh, yeah, but…”

“But?” You both were maintaining eye contact. It was weird that the guy you thought was just another fail basically interrupted you from fucking another guy for meaningless sex. And now you were both standing here, facing off from each other. One sharp response to the next, even though Yamaguchi left you were still at each other's throat. Truly, one of you should just go separate ways.

You huffed. “Nothing.”

“You wanted more than just sex?”

“No, geez, I said it was nothing.”

His hand snapped to yours, snatching it roughly enough for you to break eye contact and stumble backwards with a shy gasp. “If it’s nothing then lets hookup, right now.”

You visibly flinched at his words. “Huh? Are you drunk?

“We’re both drunk. That’s why we’re stumbling around.” His grip on you loosened. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s fool around. You were trying to get fucked weren’t you?”

“God, Tsukishima.” You pulled away from him and plopped yourself on the edge of the bed. Tilting your head as you looked at him. “It’d be weird to have sex with you after all this.”

Tsukishima’s mouth curled into a cocky grin. “It’s college, it’s what we do.” You couldn’t hold back an eye roll at his mocking tone. “It’s the time for casual sex. Didn’t you say that?” He leaned back and turned the lock on the door. “See, I can remember to lock the door at least.”

Tsukishima was so seductive and it made your tummy turn as he looked at you with lustful eyes. It felt like he could see through you to your very soul, knowing how at one point you craved for him to embrace you and kiss you gently. You’d fantasized about him inviting you over to his apartment, with a candle lit dinner and red wine poured into those cute fancy glass cups. Then, after you two were done eating, he’d scoop you into his arms and carry you to the bed. Stripping you and leaving trails of love marks to brand his romance into your very flesh.

But, you didn’t care about that anymore. Yeah, there's no doubt that you are completely over that. You were completely fine with a casual hookup in some random bedroom. This was fine, so you have no reason to disagree with him.

You exhaled and glanced over at him with your lips puckered. “Alright, it is a party…” a hint of embarrassment sparkled in your eyes “Let’s do it.”

Tsukishima didn’t hesitate. He climbed right on top of you and pushed you onto your back. His hands were placed on each side of your head. You could feel his body heat as he leaned down closer, his lips almost right against yours. “Can I get an enthusiastic yes?”

You were nervous and he could tell. A sheer crimson enveloped your cheeks and flowers bloomed in the depths of your core. You never felt like this with your other hookups, but for some reason the thought of him seeing you naked… even the thought of seeing him naked made your tummy twist and turn.

That’s why this was weird!

But you would sooner die than admit it. “...I want you to fuck me.”

The cocky blonde smiled at you. It was different however, the spiteful and argumentative man you were yelling at earlier was nowhere to be seen, replaced by someone much gentler. It was an emotion you’ve never seen on a man. Usually when you spread your legs for whoever will give you attention they look down on you. They treat each encounter as some sort of game. They were the players and you were a side quest for them to complete. It was a common misconception with most of the men you surrounded yourself with that the harder they fuck you, the better they are at sex. Even when it hurts and you want it to stop, you don’t say anything. After all, fucking you rough gave them power. If you took away their power they’d want nothing to do with you. Men thrived on the idea that they were the dominant one, they were the ones in charge, and you were mercy under their touch. In reality, your fake moaning and exaggerated expressions was nothing more than a manipulation tactic that a single man has yet to see through.

You were nothing but an object. You let yourself become an object.

You’re so lonely.

Tsukishima’s smile didn’t host any intensity or wrath, because he didn’t perceive you as just something to fuck. Seeing you waiting for him to pleasure you, he wanted nothing more than to please you to the point you’d never sleep with another guy again. This was the only moment he might have to prove to you that he can earn your approval.

He never thought he ghosted you. Henever wanted to ghost you and to this day he remembers the devastation he had when he woke up and saw an X next to your username. He had to play it cool, after all he was on tinder for meaningless sex and a way to kill his boredom. You didn’t simply kill it, you cured it. Talking to you made him flushed. He wasn’t supposed to be like that. He likes to believe it was his pride that got in the way of you two actually working out, but in reality it was his undeniable shyness. When he saw you had sent him a message, an internal panic plagued his thoughts. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t admit he was shy around you, even to himself he never realized that he was just scared to meet up with you or that he’d say something stupid. If he made himself out to be a fool the facade he worked so hard to keep up with would crumble and he’d be left with nothing.

That’s why his messages became dull and his response time plummeted.

Tsukishima dove between your thighs. With a free hand, he flipped your skirt up and settled his face right in front of your clothed pussy. You gasped at the realization that he was going to give you oral. Usually, it was the other way around. You didn’t dislike sucking dick and in fact you think you're pretty good at it. “H-hey, you know, you don’t have to do that.” you whispered, a flash of heat filling your body.

Confused, he lifted himself out from beneath your skirt. “You don’t like being eaten out?”

“Well, of course I do, but we don’t have to do all this foreplay stuff. I know men say it can be a hassle-”

“Oh my god.” He huffed and for a split second you were about to snap back at him, yet a warmth spread across your cunt. You squealed, hips twitching. He was licking you over your underwear. No one has ever done that to you before. It was thrilling. You had no idea how something as simple as eating you out was able to make your core explode like fireworks in a dark sky, but Tsukishima was succeeding in it. Hollowing out his cheeks, he applied suction as the wet spot drenching your panties only grew. “Ask me to take off your panties and I will.”

Fuck.

“Take off my panties…”

You’ve never had to ask for anything during sex before. Previous men you have been with just do what they want. Even the shy guys, you give them head and they’re so eager to fuck you that they rush into slipping it in without a second thought of your desires. You couldn’t count the amount of times you had to shout out “Don’t cum inside me!” as the guy would groan in your ear that they were about to cum. Despite that, a good chunk would still cum inside.

You knew it. Tsukishima was different.

You’ve just been surrounding yourself with the wrong people.

You did not want to admit that right now, however. If you did, you’d probably start crying as you accepted that you have been using sex as a self harm tactic to combat the internal hatred you harbor for yourself. At this moment you just wanted to be held and cherished by the sharp witted man about to ravish you. You liked feeling special. He liked making you feel special more. He wanted to pleasure you in a way no man could ever live up to. Plague your mind so that even if you were swooped into the arms of another your thoughts would be full of him.

Hooking his fingers under your panties, he slid them off.

He teased you by swiping his tongue up your damp slit. The whimper that flew out only encouraged him to tease you more. A little on the rough side, he started to apply suction to your deprived clit. Electricity bolted up to your brain and then all the way back down to your toes. How does it feel so good? You were confused. Why did it feel so pleasurable? It wasn’t supposed to feel this good, was it?

Your thoughts were drowned out by the sound of your own moans.

Your voice fueled his desire to hear more. Out of nowhere, he began to attack your pussy like he was nothing more than a starved man in the wild. He pushed his tongue inside you which caused you to unintentionally grind your hips against his tongue. More, you wanted more. His tongue slithered around your walls, ripping another cry from your throat. You couldn’t believe you were making such embarrassing noises. You never knew you were capable of such whimpers.

His nose bumped into your clit as he tongue fucked you even deeper. The wetness of his saliva mixed with your slick. His mouth was devouring your pussy and you could tell he was quite experienced. Tsukishima succeeded in his goal, because no man will ever live up to the skill he had with his tongue.

Tsukishima’s pace never slowed. Up until an intense feeling of ecstasy washed over your entire desperate body, he didn’t let up one bit. You didn’t realize that you were whimpering his name softly under your breath. His dick twitched at the sound and he couldn’t wait to be inside you. It was hard for him not to just take you there and then, but he had an personal obligation to make you cum with his tongue. Strings of curses escaped your lips and he had a front row seat to you cumming on his face.

Not only cumming, however, you were squirting.

Tsukishima lifted his head up from beneath your thighs. You stayed on your back, huffing with wide eyes. “Was that good?” He asked, the desire for praise more than apparent enough.

You blinked a few times, processing that irresistible new feeling you just experienced. You could see Tsukishima staring at you with a perplexed eyebrow raise. Using your elbows to sit yourself up, you awkwardly smiled. “It was good, really good, I mean I’ve never done that before…”

“You’ve never cum before? Oh wow, you need to pick better gu-”

“No!” You interrupted his misconception. “I never squirted, like that, It’s embarrassing and geez, it’s all over your lips!”

Tsukishima placed his hand against his mouth and rubbed at it with little to no effort. “Oh.” He chuckled at himself, making you smile. “I had a suspicion maybe you liked virgins or something and that’s why you couldn’t cum. You tried to sleep with Yamaguchi afterall.”

“Nothing wrong with virgins.” You retorted.

He raised his hands in defense. “Sorry, sorry, you fuck a lot of virgins or something?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. “I fuck a lot of people in general.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, climbing back on top of you and hooking his arm under your leg. “What’s your body count?”

“Only polite of you to answer first.”

“It’s high.”

“Same.”

After some silence both of you started to smile, trying to hold back laughter. Tsukishima was the first one to break the quiet. “We’re both sluts then.”

Not the first time you’ve been called a slut and it probably won’t be the last, but somehow this charming man said it in a way that was able to turn you on. Happily, you wrapped your arm around his neck and pulled him closer to your blushed face. You scooted downwards just so he had a better angle to lift up your leg even more. “Fuck me like a slut then.”

You did not need to say that twice.

Desperately with his free hand, he tugged his zipper down and let his cock out into the open. You quickly peeked at it, long enough to get a good look at it but not too long for Tsukishima to notice you staring. You wanted to play it cool.

It was thick. Precum oozed at the tip of his cockhead, twitching with excitement to sink itself into your wet cunt.

He positioned his cock right against your soaking wet hole. Your pretty pussy was fluttering at the anticipation of finally getting fucked by the one guy you had an attraction to outside just his dick. He sunk into you slowly, biting his lip while doing it. You threw your head back with a moan. Your pussy stretched around his hard member. He started to fuck you with a steady pace. He didn’t just start pounding into you, no, instead he kept a stable rhythm allowing you to get used to the thick cock inside you.

Still, with every buck of his hips that amazing dick of his hit the sweet, spongy spot deep inside your velvet walls. You whimpered and moaned, embarrassingly still trying to keep quiet in case anyone was nearby to hear you. Your shirt was suddenly pulled upwards along with your bra. You looked up to see Tsukishima practically drooling at the sight of your bouncing boobs. It was a sexy sight, they bounced along with the rhythm of his thrusts. He kept a steady arm around your leg and began to speed up his pace. “What a sight.” He groaned, yet the compliment fell on deaf ears as the volume of your cries filled the air.

He rolled his hips, pushing his cock deeper inside you. His heavy balls slapped against you, only adding to the lewd noises your bodies were making. Your pussy was clenching around him. The burning sensation of delight warmed up your cunt and the nerves surrounding your puffy clit were sparkling. However, none of it compared to how intense the pleasure was in your core. His cock was filling you. The friction was nothing less than addicting.

You let your arms fall from around his neck onto the blanket. You gripped the fabric into a tight fist. The pleasure he was giving you was purely euphoric and you didn’t know how to handle it. Every cry that was ripped from your throat couldn’t be stopped even if you wanted it to. Even now, when his thrusts were getting sloppier and his groans filled your ears. His cock was twitching against your wet walls and the words “I’m gonna cum.” repeated out of his mouth.

You were too into it that the thought of telling him not to finish inside you wasn’t a concern.

Truly, you wanted him to cum inside you.

Thick, hot semen was pumped into the depths of your delicates. Tsukishima’s head rolled back and he let your leg fall against the bed. Your cunt was milking him perfectly that he could swear up and down that his eyes rolled to the back of his head. After he finished cumming, you both took a moment to catch your breaths and process how that was the best sex either of you have ever had. Hoping that the other was thinking the same thing.

Tsukishima clicked his tongue. “Shit, is there a towel, oh crap, it got on the bed.” He looked around trying to find something suitable to clean up the cum leaking from your cunt. You half sat up, fixing your bra and shirt with one hand then pointed to a side drawer next to the bed. “There's a washcloth in the bedside table there.”

He listened to you and reached over, opening the drawer and taking out the washcloth you knew was there. “How did you know that?” He tossed it over to you and zipped his pants back up. You cleaned yourself and pulled your panties back into place. “I’m friends with the people who rent this house. I’ve fucked many guys on that bed.” Standing up, you patted the wrinkles in your skirt flat.

Tsukishima wasn’t sure what to say.

You could tell you created an awkward moment, so quickly you added onto it. “And out of all those guys you were the best. So, you were right, it wasn’t that weird.”

He smiled. His smile was contagious and you found yourself grinning along with him. “Good to hear. Are you heading back to your dorm? Sounds like the party died down.”

You nodded. “Yep. Gotta sleep this drunk off.”

“I should walk you home. It’s dark.”

Your heart fluttered. You metaphorically slapped yourself and gulped air down your dry throat, desperately making sure to hide any excitement from him. “That would be the safe thing to do. We’ve both been drinking, maybe you should spend the night. You know, for safety, walking home alone in the dark drunk is dangerous for men too.”

Stars twinkled in Tsukishima’s chest. He began to approach you and at first you weren’t sure what he was doing exactly, though without another moment passing he intertwined his fingers with yours. Pulling you closer to his shoulder and squeezing your hand tightly. It made you feel safe just as he intended.

“You wanna hold my hand?”

A hint of red tinted his cheeks which went against the demeanor he made sure to force all these years. Maybe both of your auras are attracted to each other. The fear of commitment and stubborn pride caused you both to push away, but in this moment reality felt raw. It made sense.

“Just to be safe, of course.”

#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyū!!#haikyu smut #tsukishima smut #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #anime #manga #reader insert #smut

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stayevildarling · 1 month

Text

Cordelia Goode x Reader - Take my hand, take my whole life too

A/N: I got a lot of requests in the last few days and will work through those. Decided to post a cute little fic with Cordelia in the meantime <3

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none, pure fluff

taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay,@whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson,@isle-of-earle,@paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime

Being a witch at the academy, your days are filled with spells, potions and the study of mystical arts. It was some years ago now, you couldn't remember how long exactly as your time at the coven felt like a whole lifetime. Stumbling upon the now all familiar gates, you never thought you would meet people you share the same fate, magical abilities with and eventually considering them as part of your family.

Amid the incantations and rituals, there had been something occupying your mind more than anything else. The supreme of this coven. After you perfected your magic, she had asked you to help teach some classes and til this day you consider it an honour, walking the academy besides her and sharing some of your knowledge. Standing alongside the most powerful witch on earth, listening to her words as she teaches a younger generations of witches, sharing her knowledge and offering her guidance.

From the first moment you laid eyes on her you were captivated by her beauty. Her thick blonde hair, sometimes a little curly especially in the mornings and the way it most certainly almost smelled like vanilla and honey. Her brown eyes that felt like a maze, you could get lost in them and wherever you were, whatever you were doing that same set of eyes seemed to always meet yours, whether in soft quiet moments or in the midst of chaos breaking loose. You were taken back by her beauty, her grace and her intelligence. It felt like a spell had been cast over you, binding you to her with invisible threads that pulled at your heartstrings with each passing moment.

And so, whenever Cordelia was near, the familiar strains of a melody would echo in your mind, the lyrics playing on repeat like a broken record. It was a constant reminder of the love that burned within you, a love that you dared not speak aloud for fear of rejection. You were always careful with your feelings so far, never wanting to scare the blonde, your love driving her away, however your eyes betrayed you, no matter how subtle you tried to be.

Madison had caught on pretty fast ,,Just fucking tell her'' she would keep telling you but you would shake your head each time.

But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, eventually stretching into years, your infatuation with Cordelia only grew stronger, the lyrics of the song becoming a constant soundtrack to your thoughts. You found yourself daydreaming in class, lost in a haze of longing as you imagined a future where you and Cordelia were together.

,,I can't help falling in love with you'' the lyrics replay in your mind once again as you find yourself sitting beside the supreme, teaching a class. In reality you were supposed to teach this class about potions but when Cordelia decides to check up on her witches, your thoughts completely lose track of your surroundings. The soft perfume lingering around her far too distracting, her soft voice far too distracting as well as her whole being.

The supreme quickly realises that you are clearly distracted by something, as she answers students questions and finishes teaching the class altogether. As all the students leave, you slowly find yourself back in the present and not completely lost in thoughts, so you try your best to clean up after yourself and the witches.

,,Is everything alright?'' Cordelia asks anxiously as she approaches you, her voice filled with genuine concern.

As her brown eyes linger on yours, you consider it for a moment, opening your mouth to respond, however the words quickly get caught in your throat. For a moment you want to tell her everything, how your feelings for her weighed so heavily on your mind, confess your love and lay it all out right in front of you, but you couldn't. The risk of scaring her, losing her far too big. Instead you remain silent, simply nodding her concerns away, before preparing to teach your next classes.

That day Cordelia made a mental note to keep an eye on you, she sensed something wasn't right. You barely talked anymore, seemed distracted all the time but she couldn't put the pieces together. Over the years she grew closer to you, usually close with her girls but you were different. More mature, reliable hence why she trusted you with teaching alongside her. She enjoyed the quiet little moments with you, perfecting spells in the greenhouse, sitting in the garden together in comfortable silence or your daily evening talks over tea, reflecting about the academy and the girls.

The supreme trusted you, never really letting on how she was feeling about something and sometimes when the weight of being the supreme heavily fell on her tired shoulders, you were right there, lifting it off gently by reminding her of the job she is doing and how she was doing it. Your gentle smile always guiding her away from the darkness.

And so for the next few weeks Cordelia observes carefully, hiding away a little as she observes you teaching classes, not noticing anything unusual, just your usual very capable self sharing your knowledge. Little moments in the common room as she hovered nearby, she listens to you rant about subjects with the girls. However the supreme quickly connected the dots, whenever you were in the same room, teaching a class, having dinner, sitting by the fireplace, you were replaced by a much more quieter, distracted version of yourself. Despite her careful observation she still couldn't connect the dots fully.

Despite your best efforts to hide your feelings, Cordelia seems to sense that something was missing. And so as you currently walk around the greenhouse, skipping through pages of several books, perfecting some potions, she catches you humming a tune. Smiling she leans against the doorway, happy to see you this calm and content, the real you coming to the surface away from prying eyes and ears.

,,That's a beautiful song'' she suddenly remarks her voice soft and gentle as she looks at you with a sense of adoration that makes your heart flutter.

You stop in your tracks, gasping a little at her sudden appearance. As she approaches, you feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, fiddling with the books in front of you. Trying to brush it off and change the subject, you fail as Cordelia continues to walk gentle steps towards you.

,,What is it called sweetheart?'' she asks equally gentle as she stands in front of you.

As you hear her gentle words you feel butterflies in your stomach, your heart pounding a little, hands trembling. ,,I'm not sure'' you stumble over your words. She raises an eyebrow in response to your statement ,,I can't figure out the rest of the song, it's been stuck in my head for quite some time now'' you admit shily and the supreme can't help but chuckle.

Noticing your increasing nervousness, she simply drops the subject for now, leaving you to carry on with what you were initially doing. However, Cordelia can't help herself and unbeknownst to you, lingers by the door a little longer. And if you turned around to see her expression in that moment, you would know. The pure look of adoration and love lingering in her eyes as she watches your gentle and careful movements.

It was the weekend now, all the girls had left the academy for different purposes and so as a result it was you and the supreme. As the both of you didn't have any families to return to over the weekend or anywhere else you'd rather spent your time. That morning you didn't see a lot of Cordelia after breakfast, assuming she was busy you did your own things until you stumbled upon a note in your room.

,,Meet me in the greenhouse tonight- Delia'' you read the lines and couldn't help but feel butterflies erupt in your stomach as well as nervousness slowly consuming you.

And so, as the sun begins to set and the shadows lengthened across the ground, you find yourself in front of the greenhouse, taking a deep breath, before entering, doing your best to hide the trembling of your hands.

And there she stands, graceful as ever, the sunset coating her cheeks, waiting for your arrival. She senses your presence and as she turns around you are met with a twinkle in her eye that you couldn't fully read. Her lips part as she is clearly waiting for some kind of reaction from you.

However oblivious to your surroundings whenever you are with Cordelia, you don't notice the vinyl player in the background at first, an all familiar tune playing.

,,Wise men say, only fools rush in'' the lyrics suddenly dawn on you, as the realisation sinks in, the all familiar tune isn't playing in your head like it usually is whenever seeing Cordelia.

Cordelia approaches you, her eyes sparkling and you can't help but hold back some tears, grateful to be in the presence of her, her beauty quite literally taking your breath away.

,,Is this the song darling?'' she whispers as your cheeks flush in response and all you can do in reply is nod, trying to hide your embarrassment.

As the music fills the air, you feel a rush of emotion wash over you, the lyrics flooding back into your mind with a clarity that leaves you breathless. And as Cordelia meets your eyes again, a knowing smile playing on her lips, you feel a sense of peace settle over you, knowing that she figured it out but no sense of disgust, shame playing on her features.

And then in perfect synchrony with the lyrics of the song, Cordelia reaches out and takes your hands into hers, her touch sending shivers down your spine.

,,Take my hand darling'' she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper. ,,Take my whole life too'' she admits, some tears sparkling in her brown eyes.

As she slowly starts swaying to the song with you, your eyebrows furrow for a moment, whether this was just a dream you were going to wake up from any second. But as you see and feel her so close and so real, you don't care, even if it was a dream, you wanted nothing more than to dance with your supreme.

In that moment, as you stand there hand in hand with Cordelia, surrounded by the soft glow of the greenhouse and the haunting melody of the vinyl, you know that you were exactly where you are meant to be. And as the final notes of the song fades into the night, Cordelia leans in close, pressing her lips to yours in a tender kiss that speaks volumes more than any words ever could.

Cordelia's lips taste like the sweetest forbidden fruit, with a hint of cherry chapstick and as you kiss her, all the pent-up emotions and desires flood through you like a tidal wave. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring you together in that moment, two souls entwined in a dance of passion and longing.

The kiss deepens, becoming more intense with each passing second, as if neither of you could bear to let go. Your hands find their way to her waist, pulling her closer to you as you lost yourself in the sensation of her body pressed against yours.

Finally, breathless and dizzy with desire, you pull away, your eyes meeting Cordelia's in silent communication. There is so much you want to say, so much you want to express, but in that moment, words seem unnecessary. All that matters is the connection you share, the bond that had formed between you.

Cordelia smiles softly, her fingers trailing gently down your cheek as she leans in to press another gentle kiss to your lips. "I've been wanting to do that for so long," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

You can't help but smile in return, your heart soaring with happiness at her confession. "Me too," you whisper back, your voice filled with emotion.

,,Tell me about the song, sweet girl'' she whispers in your ear as you stand in each others embraces.

Taking a deep breath you meet her eyes ,,From the first moment I saw you, the melody played in my head'' you admit, now shy and averting your gaze.

However, her hands quickly guide you back to meet her eyes, again sparkling with unshed tears. ,,Every time?'' she asks, unable to believe your statement considering how long the two of you had known each other.

,,Every time'' you reassure, the honesty very visible in your eyes.

And as you stand there together, lost in each other's embrace, you know that this was only the beginning of your journey together. As the record finally comes to a stop, the blonde intertwines your fingers, as she makes her way out of the greenhouse with you and into the night. And as you walk side by side, the stars twinkle overhead like a thousand watchful eyes as the two of you retreat to the comfort and safety of Cordelia's bedroom.

#sarah paulson #cordelia goode #american horror story #ahs #cordelia goode x reader #sarah paulson x reader #ahs coven

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tightjeansjavi · 10 months

Text

Endings Create New Beginnings

Burning in a Hopeless Dream | The Prologue: Part 2 (final part)

(Joel Miller x f!reader)

A/N: I genuinely feel like this might be the most complicated piece I have written in the sense that I went out of my comfort zone a little bit. Rather focusing on dialogue, I used a lot of descriptions of what the reader is going through, what she is mourning and what Joel is feeling as she goes through this. To be completely honest with you? This is beautiful. It’s tragic in the sense that these two people have no idea just how meaningful they will soon be to one another. I feel like I have done them a justice by writing their true beginning. There are dark themes throughout this piece so please tread carefully. Please read part 1 before this piece and while this is Joel and Gwen’s story, I have written it as a readers perspective. There are no physical descriptions of the reader.

Thank you for reading ♡

~word count: 5.1k~

Summary: after losing your lover, and friends of 5 years, you find yourself running straight into Joel Miller, and his partner, Tess Servopoulos. You don't know it then, but your life is about to drastically change forever.

Warnings: dark themes, depression, mourning, suicidal thoughts, guilt of one’s death, feelings of being trapped, isolation, dark thoughts in both the reader and Joel’s mind, hinting at soulmates without directly stating it, stubbornness, banter, empathy, jealously, secret pining, feelings of denial, mistrust, anxiety, brief depiction of a knife wound, stitches, alcohol consumption, confusing thoughts, fear of the unknown, no use of y/n, no physical descriptions of the reader, (+18) minors dni!

Songs Used:

“I Wonder” by Shawn Mendes

“The Alcott” by The National and Taylor Swift

“Lift Me Up” by Rihanna

“The View Between Villages” by Noah Kahan

“Everything Has Changed” by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran

“My Cell” by the Lumineers

“Second Chances” by Gregory Alan Isakov

“Dear Patience” by Niall Horan

“After the Storm” by Mumford & Sons

You quickly came to the realization that Joel and Tess’s ‘empathy’ only stretched so far. You weren’t even sure if empathy was the right word to use, especially when it came to Tess. She had no issues showing her glaringly obvious distaste towards you. You really couldn’t blame her, simply for the fact that only a mere few hours ago, you had thrown your knife at Joel’s face. If you were in her shoes, you would have felt the same way that she did.

Joel and Tess didn’t take you to the QZ right away. It created a rather awkward, and tense situation given the circumstances. Your mind played tricks on you, and made you believe that maybe the pair had changed their mind. Maybe they were going to kill you after all. Joel could smell the stench of your fear from a mile away as he slowed his heavy footsteps down.

“Easy.” He spoke softly to you. “We have to wait for nightfall before we can sneak you in. There’s a set curfew that starts at 6pm, till 6a.m. Tess and I are always breakin’ the rules, and this ain’t our first rodeo. FEDRA only patrols specific blocks at a time. Our apartment isn’t far from the main entrance. So, once it’s late enough, we’ll sneak you in through the tunnel system. You won’t have to worry about runnin’ into any QZ residents either. If we do happen to be caught by FEDRA, you run, and you don’t don’t look back. Do I make myself clear?” His back was resting along a nearby tree, arms crossed over his chest. His tone may have been soft, but you averted making eye contact with him regardless.

“How long have you and Tess lived in the QZ?” you scratched the outside of your arm absentmindedly. The rain had since long passed, but your clothes were entirely soaked through. Joel could see your body trembling, shivering from where he was leaned up against the tree.

“A while. I’ll be honest, ain’t no one really keeps track of how many days, months, years have gone by. They’ve all blended together for me at this point.” He gave a small shrug of his shoulders before he gently pushed himself off the tree, taking a few steps towards you. “Hey, are you cold? Would you like my jacket?”

You took a hesitant step back when he approached you and Tess scoffed at your inability to recognize that Joel wasn’t going to kill you. He wasn’t going to harm you. She turned her nose up at the fact that you were still acting like a frightened cornered animal.

“No thank you. I’m fine. Please..don’t come any closer to me.” You whispered.

Joel let out a visible sigh as he shrugged his thick layered jacket off of his body. “You’re gonna catch a nasty fuckin’ cold shiverin’ like that. Take the jacket.” He firmly demanded as he held the coat in his outstretched hand towards you. “I won’t come any close to you, but take the damn jacket.”

You knew he was right and despite wanting to show a hint of stubbornness, and to prove that your brain hadn’t entirely been fried by trauma, you reached for his coat, grasping the material between your fingers. You briefly made eye contact with him as you slipped your arms through the sleeves. The material was warm, warmer than you had expected. The outside layer of fabric had a residual scent of whiskey, pine, and woodsmoke. A wave of nostalgia washed over you, and Joel could see the emotions swirling through your pupils, as if they were trying to tell him a story; mapped out delicately in your irises.

“Thank you.” Your tone was barely above a whisper.

“Don’t mention it.” He returned to his prior position against the evergreen, arms crossed, stern gaze falling on you.

When the sun began to set, and the sky grew into an endless black pit, with only the pale moonlight to guide you, Joel and Tess guided you to their secret entrance into the QZ. A series of underground tunnels that ran under the QZ. Smuggling routes that Joel and Tess knew by heart.

The tunnels had you feeling claustrophobic in some moments. With only Joel’s flashlight as a light source, it was easy for your heart to start racing in your ribcage. Everytime you could hear the sound of Fedra trucks driving above ground, you squeezed your eyes shut tight. You had heard hushed whispers of what the quarantine zones were really like and more than ever now, you were missing your close knit camp with your once living friends.

Tess was the first to climb out of the hole in the ground, surveying the area while Joel offered you his hand and carefully hoisted you up. The streets were quiet sans the distant shouts of FEDRA soldiers. Joel was already nudging you up the street, gun drawn at his side. You were overwhelmed with the newfound stench of the quarantine zone. A mixture of filth, soot, and ash burned your nostrils and watered your eyes. The smell of rotting flesh nearly had you gagging, feeling lightheaded. Had they lied to you? Why did they bring you here? Was the quarantine zone just disguised as a raiders commune? Joel promised he wouldn’t hurt you, he promised–

“Hey, hey. Easy now darlin.’ You’re safe. That smell? It’s..not what you think it means.” He whispered under his breath as he gently grasped your arm. “When FEDRA brings in potential new residents, they’re put through a series of screenings and tests. If you’re found to be infected..they administer a shot that puts ya to sleep. Pretty much is like euthanizing a dog, or a cat. After they put you to sleep, your body is burned in a huge pit. It’s one of the more grueling jobs in the QZ, but it pays well with ration cards.”

Tess was already a few lengths ahead of you and Joel as she impatiently waited for the two of you. “Uh, any day now would be really fuckin’ nice.” She harshly whispered through the dead of night.

“C’mon. Our apartment is just a couple blocks east. We gotta move fast though, alright?”

All you could do was nod as Joel nudged you in front of him to keep moving forward. He couldn’t see your face, but he just had a feeling that his jacket was bringing you some form of comfort similar to the way you felt earlier. You were indeed using his jacket, and the nostalgic smell it gave off to pacify your apprehension. Whether or not Joel saw you turn your face into the collar, was the least concern on your mind.

Whiskey, pine, woodsmoke. Whiskey, pine, woodsmoke. Whiskey, pine, woodsmoke.

Home. Home. Home.

Joel and Tess’s apartment was not what you were expecting it to look like. There was an odd sense of comfort that the small living area particularly gave off. Perhaps it was the dense multi-colored quilt that rested along the weathered couch. The quilt itself looked well loved, and you imagined being wrapped in it must have felt as close as a warm hug did. She gave the best fucking hugs. She’s dead now. You left her for dead. Her body is rotting away in the earth, and the insects have made their home in her flesh and here you fucking stand. You hadn’t even heard Tess shuffling around in the tiny kitchen behind you. You hadn’t detected the sound of a liquor bottle being popped open. Nor the splash of amber into a chipped crystal glass. All you could hear were her distant screams, and your ears painfully ringing in your skull.

“..Darlin?’” There was a certain edge to Joel’s voice. A low rasp that was ridden with exhaustion, and his own terrors. He wanted to tread carefully when approaching you. He wasn’t sure why he gave a damn in the first place. Why did his last shred of humanity fall upon your trembling shoulders? He could see your lower lip wobble in the faint reflection of the grime covered windows. He knew your friends were dead. Raiders had murdered them and you ran. There was more to the story. There were always more pages left unturned. Whatever words were written on your parchment, he imagined they were painful. The kind of pain that had you clutching your fist to your chest, clawing at the skin to rip your heart from its strings. The kind of pain that wrecked silent sobs through your body. Where tears were un-shed because your body had spent them all. The kind of pain that dried your soul to dust, ash between your trembling fingers. The kind of pain that would have your arms squeezing your broken body so tightly, you couldn’t breathe. Rocking yourself as a mother would rock a crying child except, no one was there to hold you. No lullabies were to be sung, no soft touches were to be felt. No one was there to tell you that the world wasn’t always this cruel. That the sun would always shine another day, warm your skin, feed your soul. That you wouldn’t feel trapped, clawing desperately to reach the surface as the current drags you further and further into darkness. Waves crashing, tumbling, jostling what is left of your withered being until you give up. Phantom shadows, enveloping you in a never ending chill. So cold. So alone. So broken. So beaten.

Joel knew the inner turmoil that you were facing as if it was the back of his hand. It was in a sense. He too knew of indescribable pain not that long ago. When his own soul was turned to dust between his fingers. When her body went cold in his arms as he clutched her to his chest. When he felt like breathing was the hardest thing to do. When his own tears were spent, deep salty caverns laid their claim on his cheekbones that used to ache from joyous laughter and smiling too hard. He knew of the pain you presently endured all too well.

His hand gently clasped over your shoulder, squeezing the worn fabric that encased your skin in warmth. “C’mon. I’ll uh–I'll show you to your room, okay?”

You shuddered from his touch, feeling your senses being knocked back into you like a wrecking ball turning concrete to rubble. You pulled away from his touch, caving in on yourself.

You felt his hand retract and fall to his side. He let out a deep sigh as he made brief eye contact with his partner that wasted no time on giving him the “I told you so” look before she downed her glass of whiskey in one harsh gulp, slamming the glass down on the counter with a crashing thud.

The sudden sound sent your body jolting as you followed Joel’s heavy footsteps down the narrow hallway. He pushed the door at the end of the hall open, standing off to the side. “It ain’t much, but you got a bed to sleep on and a decent blanket to keep warm. I’ll have to convince Tess to lend you some of her clothes. I imagine you ain’t got much in that bag of yours. Anyway, you should get some rest. You’re safe now.” His arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned against the peeling wallpaper.

“Thank you.” Was all you could muster out as you stepped into your new living space. Joel was right. It wasn't much, but it was more than you had in years.

“You’re welcome.” He softly pulled the door shut to give you the privacy that you didn’t realize you were desperately seeking. You listened to the heavy creaks of the floorboards beneath his boots disappear. You stood there for what felt like hours before you slowly sunk down onto the old mattress. You didn’t move. You didn’t cry. You didn’t sleep. You sat there all night long staring into the void as your mind ran excruciating circles. Head rocking like a pendulum with no end in sight. Eyes glazed, lifeless, dull, ghostly. As if all the wondrous color had been sucked from your soul. The world through your eyes now was dark, dismal, tenebrous. A swirling black pit oozing with sorrow. Dripping in overflowing guilt. Like toxic sludge bubbling and bursting through the cracked crevices in the fragments of your vanquished heart.

It's all my fault.

I did this.

I caused this.

She’s dead.

They’re dead.

Here I am, surrounded by darkness in an undeserved warm bed.

Wishing I was dead too.

Two broken heartstrings, bleeding the sad sad blues. Separated by thin walls, peeling wallpaper, creaky floorboards. Two shattered souls; unbeknownst on how devoted they would soon grow for one another. Silent sobs, nightmares, darkness consumed. Struggled breaths, dealt the same cards; fortunes foretold, they have met before.

You mourned the loss of your lover and friends for what felt like endless years. In reality, it was two weeks of you isolating yourself in your room. Two weeks of numbing yourself to the pain where all that was left was the outer shell of who you used to be. Where was she now? You had yourself convinced that part of your soul died along with the ones that you loved. Maybe it had, and maybe that part of you was never going to reach the surface again.

You soon learned that Joel Miller was a persistent man. He respected your privacy, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t go out of his way to make sure that you hadn’t offed yourself in those two long weeks. He would leave food outside your door in hopes that you wouldn’t let yourself wither away entirely. Each morning, he’d find the wrapped jerky, and long since stale biscuits untouched.

On the nights where Joel was unable to relax into sleep, he’d quietly, and carefully untangle his limbs from Tess’s before leaving their shared room. He’d find himself seated against your door, back aching at the uncomfortable angle he was in. For whatever reason he was feeling desperate to know anything, and everything he could about you. Your name, where you were from, did the sorrows and grief of your past haunt your dreamless nights just as his did?

“Can you just fuckin’ let me know you’re alive behind this door? ‘Cus I’m sitting here with an achy back for whatever goddamn reason so the least you can do is let me know you’re alive. Would greatly appreciate it.”

He was met with no answer from the other side of the door.

“Can you tell me your name, darlin?’” You heard his whisper through the thin door that separated him from you. Maybe he needed to take a softer approach, despite the fact that Joel Miller was anything but soft.

“I can’t tell you my name.” You spoke soullessly through the impending darkness that surrounded you.

So you weren’t dead behind the door, thank god. He thought to himself.

“Why can’t you tell me your name?” He pressed you further.

A pregnant pause, seconds ticking by as he awaited your answer. The floorboards creaked beneath your feet as you slowly rose from the crumpled sheets, and padded quietly to the door. You sunk down, back against the thin wood right where he was resting on the other side.

“Because everything that’s mine is a landmine Joel. Every single fucking person that knows my name is dead. Every. Single. One. They’re all dead. You’re better off not knowing my name or who I am, or where I came from. Knowing someone’s name is personal. It becomes a personal interaction and I don’t want that to happen. I don’t want anything to do with that.” You pulled your knees up to your chest, resting your chin against them with a heavy sigh.

“Now listen, I ain’t into all that superstitious crap. So you’re tellin’ me that you think everyone who knows your name is like fuckin’ doomed or somethin?’ That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever fuckin’ heard darlin.’” I ain’t gonna die if you tell me your name.” He fought the urge to scoff but you could feel his demeanor through the door.

“Well, fine. What about you? What’s your story?..Joel…?” You paused, realizing you only knew his first name.

“Miller. Last name is Miller, and wouldn’t ya like to know, darlin.’” He was smirking to himself as he crossed his arms over his chest taking in a deep inhale before exhaling.

“Well, yeah. That’s why I asked.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m not tellin’ you anythin’ ‘bout myself till you tell me your name.” He stated as a-matter-of-factly.

“Oh? Well, guess that just means you’re gonna be sitting there for an awful long fucking time, Joel Miller from Texas.”

“How the hell did you know I was from Texas? Is my accent really that thick?” His eyes were open now as he gently rested the back of his head against the door.

“Yeah. It’s a pretty obvious southern accent. Hard to miss it.”

“Fair enough. How about this, can you give me the first letter of your name?” He was still on the topic of your name? For fuck sakes, did this man ever give up?

“No.” Was your immediate response.

“C’mon. Just the first letter, and then I promise I won’t ask ya again. Deal?”

You rubbed your fingers against your temples taking a deep breath when you realized that Joel was absolutely persistent in the most insufferable way possible. You mumbled out the first letter of your name begrudgingly.

“Was that so hard to tell me?”

“Yeah, it was. Now can you please fucking drop it? I don’t want to tell you my name, and I’d really would just appreciate the fact if you would just fucking accept that, alright? Thanks.”

Joel could sense your frustration through the door as his nails picked at the skin around his cuticles till they would tear and bleed. The light sting of his skin being split open was one that was familiar and oddly soothing. “Alright, darlin.’ I won’t pry any further. You have my word.”

A few minutes of silence had passed between the two of you. The floorboards creaked beneath his weight as he turned his body, resting his cheek along the splintered wood with a heavy sigh. It was frustrating to him that he couldn’t quite figure out why he was so immediately drawn to you. That he was causing his back to ache even more and for what? Just so he knew that you were alive? Why the hell did he care so much?

This became a routine for the two of you on the nights that sleep would not come. Sometimes you’d sit in complete silence and other times Joel would press for you to talk about anything. He wanted to get to know you, in whatever way you would allow him too. It was a challenging task and you proved to be tougher than he thought.

You never wanted to admit it, but Joel Miller wasn’t the most awful company to have in the odd hours of the morning.

It took just about a month for you to find your footing. Your body physically could not handle mourning what was no longer physically there in your grasp. Your brain was constantly in survival mode. Even now when you clearly were safer than you had ever been before, your brain hardly let you rest. Joel was not lying when he said that the most grueling jobs in the QZ paid handsomely in ration cards. You took every shitty job you could get your hands on. It was a good distraction from the constant thoughts racing through your mind. It was tricky, but somehow you had avoided working any jobs with your new “roommates.”

Despite your efforts to remain neutral with Tess, you still managed to evoke the woman in showing a deep distaste for you. She was far more intimidating than Joel was. It was obvious who was the brains of their operation, but you were also aware that Tess packed a lethal bite. It was only a short time ago that she threatened to gouge your eyes from your skull.

Some weeks you wouldn’t see Joel or Tess for days at a time. Not that it really bothered you because having the apartment to yourself had its perks. The biggest one being you didn’t feel like you had daggers trained on the back of your head. The downfall was that you were alone with your thoughts..and they weren’t going away.

“You enjoyin’ those late night chats with our new house guest?” Tess bitterly asked as Joel was patching up her arm alongside a crumbling alley outside the QZ. They had just traded a couple guns for some pills when 2 outsiders ambushed. Joel of course made both thugs regret that they had ever been born, but Tess had a fairly large gash along her forearm from a switchblade. Luckily for her it wasn’t muscle deep, but she’d still need stitches.

“What’re talkin’ about Tess?” Joel met her burning gaze as he dabbed away the blood. There was a stray sweaty curl blurring his vision and he paused his movements when she gently brushed it away.

“You don’t know what I’m talkin’ about? Bullshit, Joel. The walls are paper fuckin’ thin. Look, don’t you think she’s more than capable of bein’ off on her own? I agreed that we not kill her, but for fuck sakes. I don’t like the fact that she’s livin’ with us.” Tess didn’t want to admit outloud, but the main reason for her distaste towards you was because she viewed you as a threat. To what exactly? Well, it wouldn’t take a rocket science to figure out that Tess Servopolous was finding herself growing jealous anytime Joel diverted his attention from her, onto you. She knew it was silly, and a little embarrassing at the core, but Joel was hers. She was his, and she’d be damned if anyone got between that.

“Do’ya hear yourself right now? Look, you wanna be mad at me because I just wanted to make sure she didn’t off herself during those two weeks? Fine. Go ahead and be upset with me. I know it ain’t like me to take in strays and bring ‘em home. You and I both know that if we left her in those woods, she would have died. Hell, if Tommy were here? He probably would have killed her as soon as she threw her knife at my face. Do ya remember when he and I found you? Alone, and afraid? It wasn’t that fuckin’ long ago that you were a shell of yourself too, Tess. Tommy and I took ya in. We could have killed you, we could have left you for dead but we didn’t. Not long after you told me what happened to your husband and son. You told me about your loss, and the sacrifices you made to stay alive. I get it, you don’t like her for your own reasons, but you ain’t all that different from each other.” He concluded as he finished stitching up her wound, wrapping it firmly in some cloth before he grasped her hand and helped her up from the rocky ground.

“Fine. All i’m gonna say is that she’s gotta start pullin’ her own weight ‘round here too. You’re the one who said she might be useful to us. So, lets get some good use out of her. Today was a perfect example as to why this operation ran much smoother with three people.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll be goin’ on runs with us soon enough.” Joel zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder along with his rifle. “Let's go home.”

It was springtime now. The air was warmer, there were birds outside the window that could be heard. The sun shone brighter. Despite all of this, you still felt trapped. Trapped in this apartment, trapped in your thoughts, trapped in a droning routine that was draining you day by day. You were desperate to get out. To let your lungs breathe the fresh forest air once more. Your wish was manifesting faster than you thought it would. Joel and Tess were meeting up with their two unlikely friends, Bill and Frank. Tess was against the idea at first, but you learned that Joel could be incredibly convincing when he wanted to be. That’s how you ended up outside the QZ walls after months. Joel would never say it outloud but he wanted to give you a taste of normalcy after everything you had been through. He wasn’t expecting you to thank him or anything. You owed him your life, this was true. However, he’d never ask you to repay him. He only hoped that perhaps you and him could become friends. If friends was even the right word for the journey you and him would find yourselves enduring together.

Frank adored you the moment he laid eyes on you. You believed that people had many different soulmates in their lifetime. Frank had to be your platonic soulmate in every sense. The older man was like a breath of fresh air in your lungs. His hugs reminded you of home, and his eyes were welcoming and kind. He doted you as his “little bird” when you explained why you couldn’t tell him your name. Soon enough you were being whisked into his world of art, music, books, and the simple pleasures in life that you weren’t sure if you’d ever have the privilege of experiencing again.

He showed childlike excitement when you gushed over his artistic abilities. He had all different sizes of canvases in his art room. Many of which were paintings of his polar opposite lover. He also loved to paint nature, flowers, and his favorite plants. The colors were warm, vibrant, and full of life.

“One day I'll paint a portrait of you in the wildflowers out back, how does that sound to you little bird?” His warm arm was wrapped loosely around your shoulder, a warm smile gracing his gentle features.

You were almost certain that you had met Frank in a past life. You felt as if you had known this man forever, and now you were catching up over coffee, and spilling secrets of your shared pasts. You adored him just as much as he adored you. “Wait, there’s wildflowers out back? A whole field of them?” You looked up at the older man with a bright full of life smile. You couldn’t remember the last time you had smiled this hard.

“Yes! An entire field of them. They’re all in full bloom. Would you like me to show you?” He offered you his elbow like the true gentleman he was.

You nodded enthusiastically, grasping his elbow gently as he led you out into the backyard. Your eyes watered when you gazed upon an entire field of different species of wildflowers that sprouted up between the tall thick wild grasses. Asters were your favorite, as Frank came to learn. They were all beautiful of course. Butterflies danced around your head like a fluttering halo. Their delicate wings were different hues of purple as you carefully plucked the flowers into a homemade bouquet.

Joel had been watching from afar. His arms were crossed over his chest, broad muscles bulging through the worn fabric of his flannel. He was half paying attention to the conversation Tess and Bill were having as he was too distracted by you. There was something so surreal to him, seeing you relaxed, and in your element. Could flowers truly bring one person that much pure joy? What was so special about these particular flowers? Did they remind you of home? Were they your favorite? Or did you simply just think they were pretty? Joel wondered as his jaw clenched tightly. Why were you able to find happiness in the littlest of things, and yet he couldn’t. He wondered what it would be like to see the world through your eyes at that moment. A world full of color and life. A world that wasn’t black and white.

Joel Miller wondered, and it terrified him.

He wondered if he was always being real. He wondered if he always spoke his truth, or does he filter how he feels? He wonders why he is so afraid of saying something wrong, when he never claimed to be a saint. He wondered why on the loneliest nights when he would cry into his hands, it conditioned him to feel like he was less than a man.

He wondered—

And then you met his gaze. Eyes sparkling under the warm rays of the sun. A soft smile gracing your lips. A smile different from the one you portrayed around Frank. No, this was a smile that would make any man weak in the knees. A smile that would send a man to his early grave if he never got the privilege to see it again. A smile that would now rot Joel Miller's brain to mush for the rest of the day. A smile that he felt like only he was supposed to see. A smile that had him wonder if one day you’d be by his side and promise him that the world would end up alright.

Your smile hit him like a freight train colliding with his body over, and over again.

It was true, Joel could not stop thinking of the way you smiled at him earlier in the day. He thought about it at the dinner table where he was sitting across from you. He thought about it when he found you and Frank seated side by side at the piano, giggling like two drunk fools after a few too many glasses of wine. Heads leaning against one another like old friends.

He thought about it during the odd hours of the night while Tess was asleep at his side. He stared up at the ceiling, picturing what it would possibly be like to be loved by you. Your smile was etched into his brain like a fucking tattoo. He blinked, and it wouldn’t go away. His thoughts were flooded with you.

darlin’, if my memories of you were ever stolen from my mind, my only hope is that you’d forever haunt my dreams, as someone I used to know; who is now a phantom of my past unknown.

Fin

Tag List: @chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @yuly @soft-cryptids @dinsdjrn @myrealmofchaos @itskenziebb @lovers-liability @korynnekorynne @ems-alexandra @kirsteng42 @casssiopeia @novemberrain-writes @goodwithcheese @loquaciousferret @sarahhxx03 @777-wonders @bonglorddaryl @mirasantidotes @luvrking @finnsbubblegum @last-girl @pedrostories @yazsos @pedgeitopascal @wildemaven @sourccream @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @amanitacowboy @morning-star-joy

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mygloviesme · 6 months

Text

cool about it, eleven years later. || myg

no. 2 of 3: she called me a fucking liar

predebut/debut!yoongi x female idol

summary: eleven years later, kanako lives in nyc with her childhood best friend keiko. bts have become a household name that floods her every day life, and she's learned to ignore it. after years of moving on from those months she spent with the seven boys, she finds herself in a good place. what happens after one fateful night she finally runs into faces she's tried so hard to run away from?

(definitely inspired by boygenius)

word count: 4.6k

genre: ANGST, fluff, melodrama

chapter warnings: mentions of mental health, drinking, smoking

inspo song: worldstar money by joji

JULY 9TH, 2023, 10:48PM

The woman next to Yoongi loops her arm around his, holding him close. A knife puncturing my stomach only twists further. Further and further.

“Who’s this?” She asks genuinely, kindly. Oh, I loathe her. I hate myself for it but I hate her more. The feelings I’m having are childish and jealous, completely unreasonable. But she’s so perfect. Her body fits into his like they were made for each other. I don’t recognize myself right now. It feels like high school with the way I’m obsessing over her every move.

All I want to do right now is run into the club and down more drinks than I can fathom. Self destructive is the right word. I was never one for spite, but right now I wish I had a man on my own arm.

“This is…Kanako.” He speaks, gulping.

Her eyes widen and she breaks apart from him, taking my hands. “Oh my goodness! I didn’t even recognize you! I’m Aimee, remember? I was a trainee at Bighit for a little while.”

The memories flood my brain as I recount who exactly she was. I do remember her. After the news broke out, she was the one who told me I could still take back what I said about Haneul. She was on his side.

This is who he’s with? I feel a burning in my stomach, a validating one. I have a reason to dislike her. It gives me reason to hate her. And God, do I hate her right now.

I look at Yoongi as Aimee holds my hands in hers, utter incredulity painting my face like a mural. I’m not sure if he remembers, but I do. Those words all those years ago were repeated over and over again so I could hate myself even more. She was amongst the people that made me afraid to go outside ever again.

Haneul doesn’t have that power over me anymore, and neither does she. At least for being on his side. But I’m definitely giving her power by wanting to rip her away from Yoongi. This is getting embarrassing.

“Yes. I do. You were friends with Haneul, weren’t you?” I smile with bitterness. I’m old enough to make statements now. I’m old enough to create boundaries. I don’t have to lie about liking someone. Fuck being the bigger person. I’ve been big, I’ve been small. I’ve done it all.

Her beaming smile fades and she lets go of me, “N-No. Well, yes. But I know better now, I’m so sorry for what I said. I haven’t spoken to him in over a decade.” She says. Yeah, right.

Yoongi only stands with his hands in his pockets, not saying a word. I don’t want to be talking to Aimee, but I’m not entirely sure I want to be talking to him either. I don’t know if I have the strength to, considering how it went with Jungkook. There’s too many thoughts circling my mind at this very moment, all of them being about Yoongi. I don’t even know if I would consider him an ex, someone I knew, the one that got away. Because that would be me, I got away.

I know I should’ve moved on long ago. I know I did in certain ways. But still after all these years I never understood why I could never give myself to someone else.The feelings for Yoongi had never dissipated, I just forgot what it’s like for him to be standing in front of me. Looking like that.

This hurts so fucking bad.

“Hey, Koko.” I hear Keiko say from behind Yoongi. She holds her bag as well as mine. Her body is asking if I’m ready to go. She knows. “It’s alright Aimee. Have a good night.” I say and nod to Yoongi who makes strong eye-contact with me.

I turn to Namjoon, “How long are you going to be in New York for?”

“Just two more days.” He says, “We can meet up again if you’d like.”

I walk to Keiko, grabbing my bag. “I’ll call you.” I tell him. He nods slowly and I wave a quick good-bye before me and Keiko head off into the Uber she called over.

As I walk away I’m fighting the urge to look back. I didn’t then, but I want to now. A part of me wants to tell Yoongi that I want to see him again. But the other part wants me to ignore all those precious memories we have together and lock them in a box, throwing away the key. Don’t look back. Don’t look back. I grip my purse tighter, biting my lip.

Before we get into the Uber, I reluctantly choose to look back. I hold the car door with one hand, turning to Yoongi. He was already looking at me. Those almond eyes. I keep that short moment in my back-pocket, saving it for tonight.

He looked back, and so did I.

JULY 9TH, 2023, 12:34AM

Me and Keiko sit on my bed, face masks on and a tub of ice cream between us with one spoon staked in the frozen dessert. It’s rocky-road, my favorite but her least favorite. She knew how much I needed it though, so she succumbed to the chunky-goodness.

“So how was it?”

“What?”

She rolls her eyes, “You know what I’m talking about.”

I take a deep breath, exhaling for a moment. “Awful. Jungkook was so upset, and I mean for the right reasons. But it just took me by surprise. He was so…sure with himself. Namjoon is sort of the same. Level-headed. But Yoongi…”

“He has long hair now.”

I shove her playfully, “Shut up!”

She takes the spoon, dipping it into ice cream before pulling it to her mouth. “Sorry. You were saying?”

I lean my hands back, “I felt like it was the first time all over again.”

“Like no time had passed?”

I pull a face, “It’s so stupid.”

She raises her eyebrows, giving her head a small tilt. “Just a little.”

I scoff, “Kay, sorry if I thought this was a safe space.”

“It is! It is. It's just funny to hear that is all. But I get it, trust me. Although it’s been eleven years.”

“Don’t rub it in! I know. But besides that, seeing him was so unreal. Unlike the others, he just seemed…the same. I don’t know. Should I see Namjoon tomorrow?” I ask, grabbing the spoon from her hand to have a bite.

“Well, what I’m hearing is you asking if you should see Yoongi tomorrow.” She purses her lips.

I nod sheepishly. “Maybe I am.”

“Kanako, can I be serious with you? For just a moment.” She stops and places her hands on my shoulders. I hold the spoon in my hand nervously, looking at her serious expression. “Sure.” I’m not. Keiko’s brutal honesty is never something to be ignored.

“As much as I love to encourage your bad decisions, I have to draw a line. Because I love you, and because I think you know this too…don’t try to stir things back up with him.”

I pout, “That wasn’t exactly my intention-”

“I know. But at your core, you’re a romantic. A lifelong monogamist, as much as you don’t like to admit it. You haven’t been in a real relationship in eleven years, and that makes me worry for you. And your vagina.”

“You know I’ve been trying to open up more!”

“Yes babe, but after eleven years? You couldn’t have been waiting for him, were you?”

She keeps emphasizing eleven years which doesn’t make me feel good. I know it’s sort of something that’s been left unsaid, my lack of relationships. But I’ve played it off as not needing a man, being too focused on my work. I’m just a workaholic, it’s fine. Even though that isn’t necessarily true. I love my free time. I love having free time. I knew one day I’d gain the strength to start something up with someone else, I was just waiting. Yeah, waiting.

“No! I mean not really. I just haven’t…felt that spark with anyone else.”

“Spark. Right.” She squints suspiciously.

“It’s true!” I gasp. It isn’t.

I settle down and play with the hem of my sweater, “Don’t act like I haven’t moved on.”

She cooes, “Oh, Koko. I know you have. I just think seeing him was hard for you. It brought up stuff, didn’t it?”

That’s definitely a word for it. Stuff. If stuff means feelings, yes. Feelings I can’t quite figure out. It’s not like I want to seduce him out of his relationship, but a part of me is so hungry to know him again. To know what he’s been up to, if he still likes his coffee the same, if his love for me hasn’t faltered. It hurts me so much to think that mine hasn’t. Haneul was never my first love, Yoongi was. What I felt for Yoongi was deeper, something I didn’t and couldn’t understand at eighteen.

What I had with Hanuel was a need to be seen, validated. There wasn’t any depth besides the trauma I got out of it. That’s a black hole I’ve gotten out of. With stories to tell and scars to hide, but It’s gone. Thank God.

“Yeah…it did.”

She pulls me in for an embrace, kissing my forehead. “Do what you want, I love you. He’s just…obviously with someone new. I don’t want you to get hurt. But you should see Namjoon. And maybe try to fix things with Jungkook. That’ll make you feel better.”

I nod into her shirt, “Yeah, it will.”

She pulls herself back from the embrace, seemingly confused. “It kind of surprises me that your feelings are so strong for him…and yet you guys never had sex.”

“Trust me, that took me months to get over.”

JULY 10TH, 2023, 6:00PM

I move the hair in front of my face and adjust my soft pink top before I enter the rather expensive restaurant Namjoon had invited me to. This is definitely not a place we would’ve come to back then. Even I have never been here before.

There’s a few moments before I’m met with a hostess, “Kanako?” She asks and I nod, gripping the handle of my purse tighter. My hands are growing clammier, embarrassingly enough. Namjoon asked if he could invite some of the other members that were here as well, and I accepted warily. I knew I’d easily get overwhelmed by seeing most of them again, but I didn’t know when I’d have another chance to. Seeing as they’re all busy and for the first time in eleven years I’m taking a leap of faith.

I don’t know when I’d have this courage again. Especially if it means Yoongi might be there.

She leads me to a seated area covered by a black curtain. Her hand delicately brushes it open for me, revealing the four familiar men. For some reason I expected something more dramatic, more tragic. I have pessimism on the brain, but can you blame me? It’s my easiest coping mechanism. My most self-destructive one. A common theme lately.

She gives me leeway to enter and I respond to her with a quick thanks before entering the small room. The men all stand quickly but seem to be caught, saying nothing. Their eyes dart to each other for a quick minute before Jimin smiles, “You look great.” Unexpected, but I’ll take it.

They all look great too, all so mature and aged. I could take notes. But I think they’d be pricey notes.

It feels like I’m standing in front of strangers in a sense, eleven years taking off memories from me little by little. But I still remember a lot. Even with Jimin’s cadence in his voice, it’s so different. It’s softer. More gentle, like I’m a new friend. New friend.

“Please, sit.” Namjoon insists and I do so, sitting next to him which seems like the safest bet. I place my purse down beside me and shuffle in my seat, “Thanks for…inviting me. It’s great seeing you all again.” I say, trying so hard not to cringe with my words. Just like last night, it feels like anything I say doesn’t amount to how big this situation is.

We used to be all so close. I knew them. They called me their sister at some point.

“You too. Sorry Taehyung couldn’t make it. He’s busy and all that.” Namjoon chuckles, planting his elbows on the table. Jungkook sits right in front of me, not speaking a word. His eyes stay looking down at the table, sometimes to Jimin.

I don’t know whether to look at them or not, it all feels like the wrong move. What if they don’t like who I am now? The way I dress, speak, move. I want them to recognize me. I’m almost thirty, why do I care so much about what they think of me?

“We went ahead and ordered meat and other side stuff. You like fish cakes right? And beer? If not, I could get you something else.” Namjoon asks.

“N-No, that’s all fine. Thank you…”

More silence.

“I got spicy cucumber salad for you. I know how much you liked it then.” Jungkook says between the echoing quiet. Then.

“Oh yeah, I still do. And I still like-”

“Pickled radish.” Yoongi whispers, fiddling with his hands. They remember. He remembers.

I respond with a soft laugh, “Right.”

He smiles too, looking up at me. One day I’ll stop feeling whatever this is I feel for Min Yoongi, but as long as he stays just like this, I don’t think that will happen any time soon. There’s a delicate fluttering in my stomach as we keep eye contact with each other, like it’s all that time ago. I would call myself delusional, crazy, everything that means that I’m looking too much into it. But if I could print this moment on paper, you’d believe me.

“So you guys are on a hiatus? How has that been?” I question genuinely. Jimin totters in his seat, making a ‘tsk’ sound with his mouth. It reminds me of Hoseok. I wish they were all here, but I’m glad I at least have this.

“Taking a break has been great for most of us, but I’m still working on music and whatnot. So is Jungkook, but we definitely have more free time than we did a year ago. We wouldn’t have been able to go on a dinner like this if it were, say, 2021.” He says honestly. The boys nod in agreement.

“Really?” I raise my brows in shock.

“Yeah, we were robots for like, six years straight. Non-stop working. What about you?” Jimin tilts his head.

“Yeah, Kanako. We’re- I am- very curious about what you’ve been doing. You went to college when you left, didn’t you?” Namjoon says it as if it isn’t a sore topic. It is for me, and with the way Yoongi shut down privately it seems like it was the same for them too.

I play with the glass of water in front of me, “Yeah I did. I graduated with a degree in communications, so I work with my friend Keiko at the New York Times as an editor. She was doing an internship there and…managed to get us both in, I guess. I’m pretty lucky.” I admit.

Jimin’s mouth is agape, “Kanako, that's seriously impressive.”

I scoff, “Oh shush, nothing like being a global star. Mr. Nominated For A Grammy.”

Namjoon shakes his head playfully, “There’s the Kanako I remember.”

I smile to myself as I hear Namjoon’s comment, “But thanks Jimin.” I say.

Before he can reply a waiter comes in with multiple servings of all kinds of food. He places the raw meat besides the grill, following with the various side dishes all neatly surrounding the table. It’s so much food, something we definitely never did back then.

Once everything is settled, Yoongi grabs the tongs, pointing them at me.

“Make sure to eat a lot. It’s on us.”

JULY 10TH, 2023, 7:47PM

We’ve grown into a more comfortable banter as we all eat. Talking about celebrities they’ve met, encounters with fans in bathrooms, and something Namjoon wants to say to me.

He chews on the kimchi that sits in his mouth, covering it with his hand. “I mean it’s not that big of a deal, but now that you’re here I just wanted to tell you because it sort of is a big thing.”

“Go ahead Joon.” I assure him.

He swallows, “Well- uh. I’m bisexual. And I’m dating a guy. He’s cool.”

I widen my eyes. Definitely didn’t see that coming. I mean, kind of. He’s always been a very open-minded person, but I never heard him talk about any sort of crush. Besides that one time in a club, but I never assumed he was straight. Or anyone else, for that matter. I’m happy for him though. I know it must be hard for them to maintain relationships during all this chaos, but the dust has settled. And he seems happy, which is most important.

“Oh sweet.” I reply nonchalantly, hoping to not scare him away.

“That’s it? Sweet?” He chuckles, turning over the cooking bulgogi.

“Scratch that, I’m glad you found someone. That makes me happy you could do that in the midst of, you know everything that’s been going on for you. Where’d you meet?” I reply.

He sighs, “Mutual friends. It was hard to connect with other guys during the, you know, spotlight. I’m still not out obviously, but he’s really okay with it. We go to art galleries and dinners and such. It’s pretty serious.”

I grin as I sip my beer, “Is he as smart as you?”

“He tries to keep up.” Namjoon replies with a smirk.

Jimin perks his head up, “What about you Kanako? Anyone in your life?”

I gulp. It takes everything in me to not look at Yoongi. I hope the small beat after he asked the question isn’t obvious. I look down to my fish cake, “Not really.”

“Has there ever been? It’s been eleven years, you know.” He says. Ugh.

“You sound just like Keiko.” I mumble.

Namjoon tilts his head, “Are you and Keiko…”

I shake my head quickly, “No. Nope.” I respond to him, turning to Jimin. “Uh- some guys here and there but nothing ever serious. I’m pretty focused on my work. What about you, Jiminie?” I attempt to curb the conversation from myself. Trying to not make it obvious I’m hiding a deep, dirty secret that’s sitting across from me.

There’s an abrupt laughter that bounces off the table. I look around, confused. “What am I missing?” I say.

Jungkook laughs, “Jimin is the opposite of a monogamist.”

Jimin’s face washes over with an obvious scarlet, “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

I giggle and lean back in my seat, “Ahhh, I see.”

That was an unsurprising answer from him. And I’m sure with the fame there’s even more options for a guy like him. “Is it limited to just women?” I ask.

Jimin gasps, “Why does everyone ask that!”

Namjoon laughs hard, holding his stomach in the process. “Kanako is asking the real questions.” He chokes out whilst wiping tears from his eyes.

“But to answer your question, definitely not.” Jimin gives a cheeky look to me as he responds. It’s clear he’s growing more buzzed by the minute. I assume that night at the club sparked something in him. It’s fun, for now.

This news is all so raw to me but it’s so fluid. The aging only made the conversations better, more comfortable. There’s less hesitation and more openness. There’s still a silence in Yoongi’s corner, reminding me of how he was when I first met him. Shy. But the topic of conversation I know is something he doesn’t want to contribute to. Not after the awkward encounter I had with his supposed beau. His young, annoying beau.

“And you, Jungkook?” I ask.

Jimin pats the young boy on the arm, “Still afraid of women. But I think he was just having a hard time moving on from-”

“Shut up.” Jungkook is quick to quiet the tipsy man down. There is an obvious glow to Jimin’s cheeks as time passes, and I don’t remember how many glasses of beer he’s had if that tells you anything. His mouth is like a loose cannon. Things don’t feel great. The table turns quiet again. Something else I’m missing. Jimin shrugs.

“Let’s just say Yoongi isn’t the only one still hung up on you.” He mutters under his breath, taking a big gulp of his beer. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

“Jimin, really?” Namjoon looks at him in disbelief. Jungkook is also shocked, holding a hand up as if he’s stopped in his tracks. “I can’t believe you said that.” The young boy whispers.

Jimin tries to reach for Jungkook, slurring a small ‘I’msorry’ before Jungkook slides out of his seat to walk out of the room. Jimin follows the young boy in hopes to apologize. All I feel is second-hand embarrassment, confusion, and heaps of awkwardness. Yoongi sets down his chopsticks in a disappointed manner, exhaling loudly.

He looks at me for the second time today, “Don’t pay attention to him. He’s grown to be a messy drunk.” He says.

I nod and hang my head politely, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. But it might be too late for that, because before I can think I’m jolting my head back up in question.

“What did he mean, not the only one?” I ask, looking at the two men.

Namjoon bites his lip, “Not sure if that’s our place to say.”

But what does it mean? Is Yoongi still hung up on me? Is Jungkook? I didn’t think he ever felt that way towards me, he called me his sister for god's sake. Was it a cover-up? Did feelings develop over time? How did I not know? How did I not expect this? This gives everything a new meaning that I do not want.

I don’t want any of this. “I’m so sorry.” I whisper as I pick at my rice.

“It’s to be expected.” Yoongi responds, seriously.

His tone is indistinct which causes me to be a bit bewildered, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs apathetically, “Everything was…never concluded properly. You left things sort of a mess after you left.”

I scoff and cross my arms, blatantly offended. “A mess?”

Namjoon attempts to break up the rising tension, “Guys let’s not-”

But Yoongi has intentions. Everything is coming to the surface, I know it. I hear the words flow from Yoongi’s mouth like he’s rehearsed them. Like he’s always known what he was going to say, eleven years later.

“We loved you, and you left. You can’t expect us to not have feelings about it.”

We loved you. The same knife digs into me as I hear him.

“I’m not expecting anything. It’s just been-”

“Eleven years? Yeah, we know.” He laughs sarcastically. He always knows what I’m going to say next. In this moment I wish he knew nothing about me.

There’s a bubbling frustration within me that grows to its peak, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I loved you all too, okay?” My words begin to adhere to him, unbeknownst to me. It’s coming out. “I spent days and nights thinking about you. I wanted to come back, I wanted to call. But it would make- it would’ve made moving on so much harder.”

“Why did you want to?”

“Want to what?”

Namjoon places a hand on my shoulder to cool me down but I’m an unstoppable forest fire, trees and wildlife burning down in front of their eyes. They’ve watched me crumble so many times it’s almost unbelievable it’s happening all over again. Some things really don’t ever change.

“Move on, Kanako? Why!” Yoongi shouts.

I sit up from my seat, planting my hands on the table angrily, “Because I loved you! I had just started to and I knew I had to stop if I was ever going to heal! Don’t you get that? I was in an abusive relationship at eighteen years old, I didn’t even know half of the things that happened to me really did happen! I coped the best way I could, so fuck you for blaming eighteen year old me!” I breathe heavily after I finish. The bowl of rice has toppled over all over my feet but I’m too angry to notice. This is what I needed to say after all these years. This is my honest truth. I’ve freed myself of the guilt I’ve held for all these years.

Yoongi stays quiet, his gaze on mine as I stay above him. Namjoon looks at me too, aghast. I feel relieved but so big at the same time. Like a monster.

“Kanako…” Yoongi whispers. “I know, I-I’m sorry. That was…” His voice trails off.

I feel tears trickling down my face and wipe them quickly, slumping back down on the seat. Instead of running away, I stay. This time I will stay.

JULY 10TH, 2023, 9:00PM

Yoongi ended up paying for dinner, even with how much of a slight disaster it turned out to be. We ended up continuing talking, rather casually, after our argument. It was the best I could do without leaving again. I wanted to stay there and fix things. But it was better to ignore it.

Jungkook and Jimin stand outside, clearly done with a deep talk. Jungkook is smoking once again. I feel like I should say something about it, maybe even a joke. But I’m not sure if that’s my place anymore. Was it ever?

“Hey guys. Kanako. Sorry about that.” Jimin apologizes weakly. It’s obvious he’s sobered up a bit from the last time I saw him, but even under the street lights I can see he has a long way to go.

“Don’t worry about it.” I promise him. Jungkook throws down his cigarette like he’s done it a million times before. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks over to me, eyeing the sky. His familiar unwillingness for eye-contact is more obvious than ever.

“Hi Jungkook.” I say as he approaches me.

He looks over to the boys behind me, hesitant to speak. “I understand now. I can’t imagine at that age having to go through what you did.” He confesses. He pulls me in for a random but pleasant hug. His body is much more solid than I remember, not as easy to hold, but his scent has stayed the same. How is that even possible?

I accept the embrace and wrap my arms around him tightly, having to hold back tears. This feels so nice. I missed this. I wasted years longing for it again. There’s still an unanswered question of what exactly Jimin meant, but I let it slide. I let my mind clear completely to enjoy the present.

“I missed you so much Jungkook.” I muffle into his chest. My eyes water.

“Stay with me tonight. W-With us. Like old times.” He whispers as his head sits on top of mine.

My body is lit like a furnace. It’s comforting this time, not intense. They can read my mind so easily. I want to, I have to. For one night before they leave, I will.

“Okay.”

click here to read more of this story!

a/n: I know nothing about grown up jobs or how they work!!! keep that in mind dear god!!!

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macravishedbymactavish · 10 months

Note

This is for the 'send me a character for headcanons of 3 pros and 3 cons of dating them':

This was a very long thought over choice but I picked Merrick because I'm honestly genuinely curious of the pros and cons of dating Mer-Bear.

This one started as a challenge, then somehow came naturally?

Pros & Cons of Dating (Thomas A. Merrick Headcanons)

Pros

His memory (especially when it comes to you) is top tier. He has your favourite drink, and take out order memorized so he can surprise you on nights you need a pick me up or you're both too lazy to cook

Sitting on the couch, recovering from what felt like the longest day in existence you heard the front door open and the familiar greeting of your boyfriend as he entered.

A smile tugging at the corner of your lips when you saw your favourite drink in his hand, "a small peace offering" he shrugged

He cooks as a hobby, and truly enjoys trying and creating new recipes

"The next step is to fold in the cheese" You giggled, watching as he rolled his eyes. Focusing on the task at hand.

"What does that mean? What does fold in the cheese mean?" He played along, smile widening as you laughed harder. Nearly falling off the counter in the process.

The two of you were trying out a new recipe he found online a few nights ago. He was doing the cooking, while you kept him company and read off the instructions.

"Cheese is folded like origami into this, now what?"

His music taste is vast but refined

Whether it's humming along to the radio, or able to tell you what song is playing by the first few notes -- he never fails to shock you with how many bands he listens to.

It's also incredibly sweet when he starts playing new songs when you're around. All on the premise that he heard it and either thought of you, or thinks you'll enjoy it.

Cons

Good luck watching movies with him. Either he stops paying attention halfway through or falls asleep within the first 15 minutes

Arms resting behind his head, he watched as you grabbed the remote and your favourite snack. Clicking play with a smile, you cuddled into his side.

"Don't fall asleep this time" you teased, feeling him chuckle from beside you, promising not to.

It was about 1/3rd of the way through the movie when you felt him shift his weight a few times. Opting to lean further into the arm of the couch. You paid little mind, as this was a movie you've been waiting to see for months.

It was around the halfway mark, a quieter scene when you glanced over at the man. Seeing him glancing between the TV and his phone. With a soft sigh, you reached forward and paused the movie; knowing all too well what was happening.

"Need a break?"

For a guy with only facial hair, he spends a surprising amount of time and money on it

Knuckles tapping gently against the wood of the door, you softly inquired as to whether or not he was ready to leave for the night.

You'd been ready to go, waiting on the couch for the last 20 minutes. Waiting for him to finish up in the bathroom; where he was finishing a couple last details.

Peeking your head in, you were met by an array of different hair and beard products lining the counter….and your boyfriend still not fully dressed.

Snores like a freight train

Jumping slightly, you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. Looking around the room as you tried to comprehend why you were awake suddenly.

After a few seconds, you closed your eyes again. Willing your heart to calm down as you cuddled into your boyfriends side. Eyes shooting wide open again at the snore that came from his mouth.

No, it can't be.

Glaring up at him, you shook his body. Urging him to wake up and fucking breathe. His hand pressing back against you, sleepily shoving you back as he got more comfortable.

Sighing, you sat up and grabbed your pillow; pressing it gently against his face until you felt him wake up. Pulling the fabric away, you looked down at him and simply whispered:

"An eye for an eye, you bitch"

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @bowtruckleninja @v1naco @ai-luni

#call of duty ghosts #thomas a merrick #cod thomas merrick #thomas merrick headcanons #mer-bear #cod merrick #ask game

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kaysfanficcorner · 1 year

Text

Out of This World Chapter 6:

Message In A Bottle

Author’s Note: Hey everyone!! Welcome to chapter 6. I genuinely hope you love this chapter as much as I do. I had so much fun writing it! We’re finally getting to the good stuff with these two! Please know that I took the liberty to make up some things about Nevarro for this chapter. This chapter was heavily inspired by the Strangers Like Me sequence in Tarzan from 1999, and I probably listened to it fifty times while writing this. Also if you haven’t figured it out already my take on Din is that he’s a sweet boy and a huge softy so be forewarned that it’s only going to get worse from here on out. If you’d like to join the taglist please let me know!

Summary: The Mandalorian and the Earthing spend a week on Nevarro enjoying their time together with the child.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Earthling Reader

Warnings: cursing, angst, mentions of emotional abuse (in the past), mentions of thc use (in the past) , FLUFF, explicit sexual themes. This work of fiction is strictly 18+.

Music Inspiration:

Strangers Like Me - This song heavily inspired the themes of this chapter. Not referenced directly.

Head Over Heels - Directly mentioned

Moonage Daydream - Requested by @missbabyjay

Message In A Bottle - Directly referenced, themes inspired

I Saw the Light - This is the song that I envisioned at the very end of the chapter, not directly referenced

AO3

*****

“So I’ve been thinking,” you, the Earthling woman stuck in a galaxy on the other end of the vastly infinite universe, begin a conversation with your cosmic companion clad in Mandalorian beskar. You’re seated across from him at the very same restaurant where you had first sat across from each other and negotiated the terms of your sort-of employment upon his ship all those months ago.

Thinking about how nervous you felt around him that first time you’d met, compared to how comfortable you are in his presence now, brings a warm smile to your features as you bounce the kid in your lap. If someone had told you on that fateful Nevarro evening that you would be on the verge of completely falling for the guy by now, you’d have laughed in their faces. Sure, you had found him attractive in a weird way, but you’d expected it to start and end with that.

The fact that you’d almost slept with him only a few hours ago is hard to wrap your head around. It feels like that had been a dream. You can still feel the ghost of his fingers on your skin, goosebumps crawling up the back of your neck at the thought of how it’d felt to let him touch you so intimately. Idly, your free hand snakes up to your neck as you hold the little planet pendant he’d given you between your thumb and forefinger, letting the tiny thing run back and forth along the thin gold chain. Having him adorn you with jewelry was the highlight of that entire interaction.

Mando’s suddenly saying your name in his modulated voice as he waves a gloved hand in front of your face, and you snap out of the memory.

Laughing, you shake your head at him with a grin, “Shit, sorry. I got lost thinking about this morning.”

“Mm,” he responds, the way he hums letting you know that it’s been on his mind as well. Then he changes the subject back to what you’d started to say a moment go. “You said you’ve been thinking about something?” He urges you to finish your thought, head moving as he looks you over. You wonder if he’s raising an eyebrow at you, liking to think that he is.

“I want you to teach me how to be more like you,” you say plainly, eyeing him for a reaction.

“In what way?” Din asks skeptically.

A droid comes over and drops a bowl of unappetizing looking, half-alive food in front of the kid, who begins to slurp it up happily. You smile down at him before fixing your gaze back on the Mandalorian across from you, attempting to look serious. “To defend myself, to fight. I want to know how to protect myself without a blaster. I’d like to see if the warrior you think is inside me can find her way out.”

Mando stays quiet for a moment, watching the kid eat before he answers you. “Are you sure?”

Nodding, you reply, “Very much so. We’re only six years past the Galactic Civil War. Clearly I should know what I’m doing because that’s not going to be last last time any of us are in danger. And besides, I’d like to feel more like equals.”

Leaning forward, he drops his voice down low enough that only you and the kid can hear, “I don’t need you to fight like a Mandalorian for us to be equals, Cyar’ika.”

You roll your eyes a little, but a playful smirk pulls itself up the left side of your mouth. He’d told you back at the inn that cyar’ika is Mando’a for darling, so hearing him call you that in a public place is enough to make you feel giddy. Assuming that he’d said it in order to get his point across, you want to make sure that you get your own point across too.

“This isn’t for your benefit, Mando. It’s for mine. I genuinely want this.” Gaze serious, you long to reach across the table and touch his hand for further emphasis. The restaurant isn’t very crowded, but you abstain regardless.

He seems to mull this over for a moment, “If it is truly what you want, then will teach you how to fight like a Mandalorian. Training won’t be easy. It will take time and dedication.”

“I know I can do this, or rather, I want to prove to myself that I can do this. That I’m not just some weakling from a planet of humans that can barely make it to their own moon. I used to feel thankful that I was privileged enough to never know what fighting for my life felt like, but I think that my life was very small because I’ve never had to leave my comfort zone. I can’t shake this feeling that I was meant to be here, that there’s something out there in this galaxy for me. A bigger life, maybe. And besides, we’ve got all the time in the world,” you add with a little grin, “I’ll stay with you on the Space RV for as long as you’ll have me.”

Mando’s voice takes on a somber tone, “There is an open invitation for you to stay as long as you like. Even when the reason you joined me in the first place is no longer with us.”

He’s talking about the kid leaving, and your heart sinks at the thought of it. Eyes casting down to the child in your lap, your chest begins to ache. “So we’re really going through with that when we leave Nevarro again?”

Sighing, he nods once. “It is my duty.”

“I know, I just wish it didn’t have to be.”

“I know.”

Suddenly the seat beside you becomes occupied, and you look over to see Carasynthia Dune seated to your left. She looks between you and the Mandalorian and raises an eyebrow. “Why do you guys seem so miserable?”

Your eyes flick over to Din with a knowing glance, then back to Dune as you shake your head. “No reason. I guess we’re still pretty worn out.”

“Mando told me what happened. I know it’s hard, but for what it’s worth I’m proud of you,” she says, knocking into your shoulder with her own.

Odd as the sensation is, you’re thankful for her pride. It’s affirming to feel like you did the right thing, even if it was the morally comprising thing. “Thanks, Cara. Mando here was just agreeing to teach me how to fight properly. Hopefully next time something like that happens I’ll be more prepared.”

The Marshal looks over to the Mandalorian and then back to you with a little smirk. “Oh really? Well, while you’re here if you want any help from me I’d be glad to offer my services.”

Mando looks to you, “That’s not a bad idea. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve trained someone together.”

“And this is not as time-sensitive,” Cara adds.

You look between them with a raised brow, “Okay, that’s a story I expect to hear at some point. So when do we start?”

Cara shrugs, “I’m not busy today. Why not now?”

Once the child is finished eating, all parties involved vacate the restaurant and head for the outskirts of town. Nevarro really is growing into a city that could eventually be seen as a respectable place to settle down. It’s people are kind and polite, the physical structure of the town itself is growing more aesthetically appealing by the day. Greef Karga’s hard work seems to be paying off.

Eventually you realize that Cara is leading your group close to where you first fell from the sky when the black hole spat you out. You haven’t set foot here since the day it happened. Suddenly triggered by this realization, an odd feeling washes over you and you feel almost sick with anxiety thinking about the events which led to your arrival in this galaxy. What your family had put you through. How you had been wishing, praying to deities you don’t even believe in, for something to take you far away from everything bad in your life only to have it replaced with good.

An intrusive thought echoes through your fraught mind, and you imagine another black hole forcing itself open. Horrific black tentacles much like those in the Anzat’s dead face snake out of it’s abyss to catch hold of you and drag you back into it. Drag you back to your old life where you felt small, inadequate, and unloved.

Unthinking, you grab for Din’s hand and squeeze it. Shallow breathing starts to find you as you feel panic rising in your chest. You really don’t ever want to go back there, and it’s far more apparent to you now than it has been this entire time. Mando aside, the kid aside, and life in space aside, you know in your rapidly thumping heart that should you go back to Earth something in you would die forever.

Cara is a few paces up ahead walking beside the child, so Din squeezes your hand back and looks down to address you with a low voice full of concern, “Are you okay?”

You shake your head, “She’s leading us close to where I landed when the black hole spit me out. It’s probably a five minute walk from here.”

“Does this frighten you?”

“A little,” you try to breathe slowly, “I don’t know why but I got scared that another one might snatch me up and send me back, and now my heart is so full of dread that I feel like I can’t breathe. I can’t go back there, Mando. I fucking refuse.”

“It’s incredibly illogical that it would happen,” your Mandalorian tries to soothe.

“I know, but that’s how afraid I am to go back. I never told you what happened that day, did I?”

He looks ahead to Cara and the kid, then he shakes his head once and looks back over to you, “Only in so many words. The subject seems sensitive to you so I never pressed.”

You sigh, “I hate thinking about this, but I’d like you to understand why I feel this way.”

*****

Earth. 2023. Day of the Incident.

Blasting “Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears at nearly full volume, you’re screaming the lyrics at the top of your lungs as you dance around in the driver seat of your blue Honda Civic at a stop light. The old girl has seen better days, with one speaker on the verge of death, a broken glove box, and no sun visor on the driver side of the windshield. It had just fallen off into your lap one day, as most things in this vehicle have just decided to give up on you mid drive. It’s a piece of shit, but it was the first car you bought as an adult so you love it regardless and fully intend to drive it into the ground before you eventually buy something else.

You’re having a great day. One of the better days you’ve had in recent memory. It’s been two months since Grandad was declared legally dead, and one month since the funeral you did not attend.

That being said, you decided to take a few days off from work and give yourself a mini stay at home vacation so you’ve been out enjoying yourself all day. Full of edibles and your favorite shitty mall cheese fries, you’d taken yourself out on a movie date. It’s been a while since you’d been to the theater, so you went for a double feature. A new horror movie that only kinda sucked, and the next installment of a stupid comedy series you’ve enjoyed since high school.

You feel more at ease as the lovely day goes on, and when it finally comes time to go back home you enjoy blaring your music so loud that you’re sure that this is the day the right speaker will finally give up on you. But you could care less. You’re actually enjoying yourself for once.

Then you pull into the driveway of your home, and all of the color drains from your face as your heart sinks into your feet.

Your Grandmother is here. With some guy you don’t recognize. Anger rises in your chest like a pot that’s about to boil over. She looks so polished on the surface. Immaculate hair and makeup, fine jewelry and clothing. But under the facade you know that there’s a heart of stone and a narcissistic personality just waiting to show themselves.

Gritting your teeth, you get out of the car and shake your head at the intruders. “Fuck off,” you say firmly, “I don’t want whatever it is your selling.”

Your Grandmother scowls at you, wrinkled face contorting into an ugly sneer. Her voice has a thick layer of fake sweetness to it, “That’s not very kind, sweetheart.”

You snort, “Oh, how silly of me. I forgot my manners. Fuck off, please.”

“I would watch how you speak to me, young woman. This is my lawyer, Mr. Burns. You wouldn’t want to do something that’ll get you into trouble. Again.” She looks so pleased with herself, and you wish there was a way you could deck her and get away with it.

Slamming the car door, you come to stand on the walkway that leads to the front door of your little rancher home. “Well I guess I should thank my lucky stars that you didn’t call the cops on me again. Oh, wait, I haven’t fucking done anything. Just like last time. You’re the one trespassing on my property. Maybe I should return the favor and give them a ring.”

“This is not your property,” she says with a smirk.

“Yes it is. He left it to me. You read the same will that I did.”

Your Grandmother looks to the lawyer. A sniveling little man with a bald spot and glasses, he adjusts said spectacles and looks at you with an awkward facial expression.

Mr. Burns clears his throat, “Upon researching the legal documents surrounding this property, I found a discrepancy. Your grandmother was never removed from the deed because your grandfather missed a page upon signing the document, so therefore her removal is not valid. You’re welcome to find legal representation and fight my firm on this matter in court, but your grandmother is still a homeowner and you are not.”

“That’s… No. That’s fucking impossible. Leave me alone, get out of my life.”

“Filthy-mouthed Godless brat,” the old woman sneers at you, making you want to curl up into yourself like a little kid again. She’s had this effect on you for most of your life and it’s infuriating that she can still make you feel so small and worthless.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask in a tiny voice, angry at yourself for cracking under the pressure of her evil gaze.

“Because I intend to take what’s mine. Perhaps if you had not betrayed your family we could have made some kind of arrangement, but that ship has sailed.”

“I love that I stood up for myself and tried to call you all out for abusing me and I ‘betrayed’ you. You’re a fucking psycho. All of you are dead to me.”

The crone looks almost hurt for a moment, and then her face becomes sour again. She’s never looked more ugly to you. “You have until this time tomorrow to get out. If you’re still here when I come back, I’ll be calling the police. You can leave your keys under the mat. Don’t try to keep them, I’ll be changing the locks when the house goes up on the market so it won’t do you any good.”

Dread fills your heart, eyes tearing up. You refuse to let yourself cry in front of her, to give her any satisfaction. “I can’t move all of my things out in a day. I have nowhere to go.”

She waves you off as if what you said is irrelevant. “I guess you’ll have to figure that out. I’ll have the rest of your belongings put in the garage and you can come get them at your leisure. If they are still there when I’m ready to sell the house I’m giving it all to a thrift store. Enjoy your last night here, sweetie.”

And with that, the horrible woman who you will no longer think of as your grandmother and the lawyer leave. You’re left standing in your front yard with your heart ripped from your chest. As soon as their vehicles are gone, you drop down to your knees and begin to sob.

Shakily, you pull your phone from your hoodie pocket and begin typing out frantic text messages to any of the friends you think might let you crash on their couches for a few days.

Your entire world is crumbling down around you, and you sincerely want to die for a few minutes.

Then you suddenly realize that dying would only give your family the satisfaction of knowing they won, so you pull yourself up from the grass and rush over to let yourself in. You don’t know how, but you’re going to find a way to fight for this house. It means too much to you. You can’t just give up.

Upon entering the house a new wave of anxiety and sadness floods your system, but you try to keep a level head as best as you can. Jupiter comes to greet you, and you pat her on the head with a shaky hand.

“We’ve got to take a little trip, homegirl. This is going to suck for a while but it’s going to be okay. I’m going to fix this.” You say down to her, reassuring yourself more than her.

She meows in response, so you nod. Before jumping to crazy conclusions, you need to see these legal documents for yourself and confirm that what you’ve been told is true. There’s a chance that some of this was your grandmother bluffing. But first things first, you need to charge your phone and pack a bag in case this threat is real and your grandmother isn’t just trying to scare you into leaving.

So you plug your phone into the charger in the kitchen and scramble around the house with your huge purple pet carrier backpack, frantically throwing in random items you think you’re going to need. Clothes, the iPad and it’s charger, and for some reason you throw nail polish in. Some of the items you pack don’t make sense, but you’re riddled with anxiety and it’s keeping your scattered mind from thinking straight.

Then you go down to the basement, Jupiter in tow. This is where your grandfather’s very seventy’s looking office is located, and aside from cleaning it you’ve left everything in it’s proper place and barely touched anything in the five years he’s been gone. The hope that he’d return one day never once leaving your heart.

The room is covered in yellow shag carpet and wood paneling on the walls. Your grandfather’s scientific triumphs are on display all other the room, either hung up or on display beside his library of books. A telescope almost as long as you are tall is set up on a tripod facing the one small window.

Sitting down at the large wooden desk, you begin rifling around through drawers to see if there’s anything related to the house you can find. Most of it is scientific paperwork that makes absolutely no sense to you, so you slam a frustrated palm down on the mahogany surface.

You have no idea what you did, but a compartment opens up and a little metal prong with what looks like a repurposed GoPro camera pops out of the desk. Blinking at it, you whisper to yourself, “What the fuck…?”

To which a robotic voice responds, “Voice recognition accepted. Beginning facial recognition scan.” A little red light like a laser pointer shines in your face from the prong, and the voice comes back with, “Facial recognition accepted. Beginning fingerprint recognition scan.”

And then the coster beside your grandfathers cigar ashtray lights up, and you’re so dumbfounded that you just stare at it.

“No fingerprint found. Re-initiating scan.”

“Shit,” you mumble, sticking your right index finger down onto the glowing pad.

“Fingerprint recognition accepted. Welcome,” the robotic voice greets you by name and your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline.

The carpeted floor below the desk slides open to reveal a hatch leading straight down. Jumping down to your hands and knees, you try the wheel on the door and with some effort you’re able to pull it open. A thin tunnel with a ladder leading straight down into darkness is what greets you on the other side. Waving a hand down in the hole, you trigger the motion activated lights and watch as the tunnel illuminates itself for you. It looks to go about fifteen or twenty feet down.

“This has got to be a dream,” you mumble. Jupiter comes over to sniff around at the hole, so you scoop her up in one arm. “I’m not going down there alone, little miss.”

With Jupiter inside of her area of the backpack and the large thing strapped to your back, you carefully position yourself at the top of the ladder and begin a slow descent. It takes a moment, but your feet finally touch solid ground again and you’re suddenly standing in what is clearly a large laboratory. It’s so big that you know it has to run under some of the neighbors’ houses as well as your own.

“So you had a secret lab and you never told me?” You ask yourself, addressing the father figure who is obviously not there. All of this is so incredibly hard for you to process.

It smells like a hospital, and the walls are all a clinical white. Equipment that you can’t even begin to wrap your head around is all over the room. It all looks like something out of Stanley Kubrick’s sci-fi classic “2001: A Space Odyssey”, which was your grandfather’s favorite movie of all time. You wonder if the design is intentional. There isn’t a single window or obvious other entrance. The hole you came down in is likely the only way in or out.

Which is why you begin to panic when it suddenly shuts and locks itself.

“Shit, no no no.” You put your backpack down and scramble back up the ladder, shoving on the door. After trying to find some way to open it and failing, you figure that there’s got to be some sort of control for it down in the lab, so you climb back down.

Jupiter’s part of the backpack wasn’t completely zipped, and the cat has wiggled her way free by the time your sneaker covered feet touch the floor again. When you look over to see her walking around on some of the equipment and it begins to light up and make noise, you curse again and run after her with the backpack.

“Hey, stop that. I have no idea what this shit does and I don’t need you turning things on.” You nearly grab her but she jumps from one machine to anther, landing on ever more buttons and knocking a leaver into the opposite direction.

Then the room begins to shake as a circular pad on the floor glows. The cat jumps on a few more buttons and then comes to land on the eerily glowing floor. Rushing to her, you scoop her up in your arms, fighting her as she tries to escape your grasp.

“Would you sit still? You might have really fucked us over on this one, Jupiter.”

A loud noise takes over your senses, your body tingling all over. You realize that you suddenly can’t move, everything becoming incredibly bright as you scream. After that everything fades to black completely.

*****

Nevarro. Present Day.

You look at Din as you finish telling him the story, feeling vulnerable and tired after reliving such a horrible memory. His body language seems on edge for a moment.

Then he stops walking to pull you into a hug. His voice is laced with animosity, “Those people are not your family. A clan should treat it’s members with respect and admiration.”

“I’ve known that for a long time, Mando,” you mumble into his shoulder, squeezing him. “I’m glad they aren’t in my life anymore. I don’t want a family like that.” You can’t help but think that the family you do want is literally holding you, but you keep that thought to yourself.

“Not to interrupt,” Cara’s voice breaks your train of thought, “but we’re here.”

Looking around, you notice that she’s brought you to what looks like a little arena. Volcanic rock surrounding it, there’s a large and nearly perfect circular section of flat surface. The area is very secluded, far enough away from town that it’ll serve as a great practice ring.

“We‘ll be right behind you,” Mando says, and Cara takes the hint enough to walk away with the kid in tow.

You and Din break apart from each other, Din keeping a hand on your shoulder as he looks down at you. It’s not often that you wish to see him without his helmet, but this is one of those instances. “So now you know why I don’t want to go home,” you say with misty eyes, “why I can’t stand the thought of it. There’s literally nothing for me there.”

Din responds by leaning his head down to gently bump foreheads with you in a Mandalorian kiss. His head lingers there for a moment. “This can be your home,” he whispers.

“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” you counter, looking right into the visor.

“I mean it,” Din breathes. He lifts up, motioning for you to follow as he begins making his way over to where Cara is waiting for the two of you. Then he laughs a little and looks back over his shoulder at you, “That cat is not allowed in the cockpit by herself anymore. I don’t need her jumping us to the other end of the galaxy.”

You laugh as well, “I try not to let her up there unless she’s supervised.”

“I’ll remember that the next time I find her sleeping up there and you’re nowhere to be found.”

“Butthead,” you poke your tongue out at him, grinning when he makes a noise of feigned offense.

Joining Cara and the kid, you look between both of your warrior friends and clap your hands together. “Alright guys, what are we going to start with? Punching? Kicking?”

Din and Cara look at each other and nod, then back to you. Cara smirks, “Hold your banthas, you’ve got to learn how to dodge an oncoming attack before you can even think about attacking first.”

“Blocking and dodging are essential,” Din agrees with a nod.

You can’t help but groan.

*****

“I can’t feel my legs, you’re gonna have to carry me back.”

Din watches you throw a dramatic hand to your head, leaning back against a rock as you pretend to pass out. The short, purple hair upon your head is nearly soaked through, laying in damp little clumps on your forehead. The impractical Earth shirt that you’d been wearing the first time Din ever saw you is equally soaked through, clinging to your form. He’s never seen you strain your body with exercise in the way he did today, and how hard you pushed yourself only serves to make you more lovely to him.

Cara is already back in town, having been called away on marshal business, so its just the three of you out here as the sun begins to set. The sky is turning a lovely shade of violet above each of your heads.

Din comes to squat down in front of you, shaking his helmeted head, “It hasn’t even been one day.”

Opening one eye to look at him, you grin widely, “I was just being silly. To be fair you guys did make me squat more than I’ve ever squatted in my entire life. My thighs are on fire. And my arm hurts where she punched me.”

You’d taken a few of Cara’s hits before getting the hang of blocking them, but none of it had discouraged you. In fact, it only seemed to egg you on harder.

“I told you this wouldn’t be easy,” he replies with a playful tone.

You throw him a pointed look, “I don’t want this to be easy. I’m trying to challenge the expectations I have for myself.”

Under the beskar Din is smiling very warmly at you, “I’m teasing. You did very well today, Cyar’ika.”

“Thanks,” you groan a little as you stretch your legs out straight, “I can’t wait until we move on from blocking and dodging. This sucks.”

“Soon enough,” Din agrees. He looks over to the pram where the kid is out cold, smile faltering for a moment. Taking the kid to his own kind has been on his mind all day, and he wants to avoid it for as long as he possibly can. An incredibly irresponsible idea strikes him, and he looks back to you with hopeful eyes in spite of the fact that you cannot see them. “I was going to suggest we leave Nevarro in another day or so, but perhaps we should extend our stay for a little longer. I can’t train you as well on the ship as I can here. There isn’t enough room.”

Your brow reaches up towards your hairline, following his gaze to the pram and then back to him. “Isn’t that going to interfere with things?”

Din shakes his head, “It shouldn’t. A week won’t be that much of a delay. We might as well make the most of our time here while we have it.”

You seem pleased with his suggestion, a beautiful little smile playing at your lips. “I’ll have to make runs to the ship to go check on the cat, but I’m not opposed to staying for a little longer.”

Standing, Din holds both of his gloved hands out to you. You take each one of his appendages in your own, letting him gently pull you up from the ground. Once you’re standing to full height again he pulls you the rest of the way into him, wrapping his arms around you. Din leans his head onto your shoulder with a sigh, eyes slipping closed as he breathes in your scent.

“None of this is easy for me,” his voice is barely a whisper.

Din feels you begin to rub circles into his lower back with your left hand, cradling his metal covered head onto you with your right. “You mean us? Whatever this is between us?” You ask quietly into his neck, sounding faintly afraid.

He shakes his head on you, “You. The kid. I’m not used to caring for other people this much.”

Mumbling into his shoulder, your voice is full of mixed emotions, “What about the other Mandalorians from your covert?”

“That’s… different,” he says, “It’s tied to a sense of duty. With you, there’s no duty involved. I just want this. I want you. And with the kid, it started as a sense of duty but now it’s grown into something else entirely.”

“It sounds to me like you love him, Din. Like any good parent loves their child.”

“But I have to do what’s right, what’s best for him.”

You pull back enough to look at him again, but you don’t break the embrace. “No offense, but who are we to decide what’s best for him?”

Din’s head tilts down, gaze somber behind the visor. “When he meets his own kind, it will be up to him to decide. This is The Way.”

“Maybe one day I’ll truly understand what that means,” you say with a small laugh.

“One day,” Din repeats almost dreamily.

Dislodging yourself from his arms, you take a step back and yawn. “So I don’t know about you, but I could really use a shower and another night of sleep in that big comfy bed.”

Din nods, modulator hissing a little as he responds, “I couldn’t agree more.”

Nightfall comes rapidly on Nevarro thanks to it’s orbital path, so by the time the three of you reach the inn it’s incredibly dark out already. Luckily reptavians don’t fly this early, so Din isn’t worried about catching one’s eye. The kid stays asleep the entire time, curled up in a little blanket inside of the closed pram as it floats beside Din to the left. You walk beside him on the right, and he worries that he’s pushed you too hard as he watches you struggle to take full steps by the end of the short journey.

“Make sure you stretch,” Din says as you’re entering the rented room, “Those muscles are going to feel even worse tomorrow.”

“I was already planning on it,” you reply with a groan, throwing your bag down on the bed to dig out a change of dress. “But first, I need to get these damp clothes off and feel clean again. Can I go first?” Gesturing towards the fresher, you jab a thumb in its general direction.

“Of course,” Din agrees, enjoying the look of happiness that crosses your features.

“Thanks, I’ll be out soon.” And with that, you’re shutting yourself into the small space. Din can hear the water running on the other side of the door.

Din stands there for a moment, just staring at the fresher door. He knows exactly what he wants to do next, but he’s unsure if its the right thing to do. To Hell with it, his own voice eventually whispers inside his head. He begins to strip himself of all armor and heavy clothing, placing it on the desk as he had the night before. Once he’s down to just a shirt and pants, he double checks that the child is indeed sleeping deeply inside of the pram and ensures that the pod is shut again when he’s done surveying his foundling. Hopefully the kid will just stay asleep for the remainder of the night, but just incase he won’t Din needs to execute his plan as quickly as possible.

He moves to the fresher door, knocking lightly.

“It’s unlocked if you need something,” your voice filters through from the other side.

And so Din enters the fresher, closing the door behind him. He chooses not to speak as he looks at the frosted shower door, the silhouette of your naked body on the other side filling him with a warmth that he once thought to be dormant inside him. It’s not even a clear view of you, but damn are you stunning.

The shower itself is roomier than the narrow thing back on the Razor Crest, with the rest of the fresher being of a much nicer quality as well. Half the time Din just uses the sonic while back on the ship, simply because it’s less of a hassle. This room, however, was intended for people to luxuriate themselves. The one on the Crest was intended to get the job done.

“Hello?” You eventually call out, voice puzzled.

It’s now or never, so he begins to remove his pants and undergarments followed by his shirt. The mirror is already fogging up considerably, but he catches a glimpse of himself in its hazy reflection and admires his physique for a moment. Nude save for the beskar upon his head, he sincerely hopes that this next move is going to go over well with you.

Din’s hand grabs for the shower door handle, gently sliding the thing open. He doesn’t look at you yet, though. He feels as if he should be granted permission first.

You squeak out his name again in a questioning tone, voice sounding genuinely surprised.

“I was hoping I could join you,” he says quietly, his own voice low as his eyes continue to cast downward and away from you. All he can see is your feet.

Din begins to worry that he’s overstepped his bounds when you don’t answer right away, but then he feels a wet hand wrap around his wrist and he’s suddenly being yanked forward.

“I would love for you to join me,” the tone of your voice is so lovely in this moment that Din’s chest swells at the sound of it.

He looks at you then, breath hitching in his throat as his eyes soak up every inch of your gorgeous body. Hot water bounces off of your supple skin, some of it running in miniature streams down your thighs. He follows the trail all the way up to the lovely patch of hair between your legs, then up past your hips and bellybutton to the exquisite breasts. What really sends Din over the edge, is the fact that you’re still wearing the necklace he gave you on the slim neck he wishes he could sink his teeth into.

“Mesh’la,” he breathes. Then he realizes that you’ve been doing the same exact thing, admiring his naked body for the first time with hungry eyes.

“Fucking perfect,” you breathe back, and finish pulling him all the way into the shower.

Din slides the door shut behind him, moving into the hot water with sharp hiss. “You really like to burn, don’t you?” He chuckles.

You giggle a little, wet hair falling in your face as you look up him. “What can I say? I love hot showers. Is the helmet going to fog up on you?”

His hands find your hips, gripping slightly. “No, its designed to withstand most conditions. I can see just fine.”

“Mm,” you hum, mimicking the sound he often makes when he doesn’t have much to say at first. “What about washing your face? Or your hair?”

He shrugs, “When you’re finished I’ll just stay in a little longer.” You seem to look a little uncomfortable for a moment, so Din brings a hand up to move some of the hair from your eyes. “What is it?”

“I don’t really want the first time we have sex to be in a shower.”

“That was not my intention,” hidden, Din can’t help but smile fondly at you, “I just wanted to be close to you.”

“Well in that case,” you shuffle forward a little, pressing your bare body to his as you snake your arms around his neck.

Din has no idea how long the two of you are in there together, but in his mind it mind it goes on for hours. Hands all over as you wash one another, slowly scouring fleshy new terrain. Examining each other’s forms with almost scientific interest, each of you treating the other like some sort of glorious discovery. Lips on his chest for the first time over a decade. There is so much physical touch that Din nearly gets dizzy from it at one point. His entire body tingles with sensations he’s not sure he’s ever felt, bright sparks constantly cascading throughout his nerve endings. He inevitably grows hard from it at one point, but neither of you bother to address it.

Eventually you declare that you’re ready to get out and go to bed, so you rise up on the balls of your feet to peck the side of his helmet, and suddenly Din is completely by himself in the water. You dry off and throw on some fresh clothes, and once you’re completely gone from the fresher Din slides the helmet from his head. He sets it on the counter just outside of the shower, finishing up with the quick routine of cleansing himself.

Once he’s done and standing in front of the fogged mirror, he wipes away at the cool surface in order to see his reflection. Din is sure he’s never looked this relaxed.

When he enters back into the room, clothed and helmeted once again, he finds you already curled up in the bed under the blanket.

Yawning, you gesture over to the kid’s pod, “Let’s keep the kid in the pram tonight. There’s no point in moving him if he’s comfortable.”

“Fair point,” Din agrees, killing the lights before coming to join you.

It’s not pitch black, so the two of you can still faintly see each other, Din more so than you with the helmet’s technology. You roll onto your side facing towards him, and he lays down facing towards you.

“I just realized something and I’m a little embarrassed,” you whisper shyly.

“What?” Din asks.

Giggling, you cover your eyes with one hand but splay your fingers out so that you can still look at him. “How old are you?”

Din quietly laughs, “Have we never talked about this?”

“I guess not.”

“How old do you think I am?”

Propping yourself up on one elbow, head in your hand, you squint at him for a long moment. “Forty-seven.”

“Thanks, I’m glad that I seem old.” Below the beskar Din is grinning at you cheekily.

“Hey! I was just guessing! You’re kinda rugged, so I figured you were way older than me,” you squint at him even harder, “Are you older than me?”

He shakes his head, chuckling, “Yes, but not by that much. I’m thirty-eight.”

“Okay, so eight years older than me. Hmm what else haven’t I found out about yet?” Looking him up and down, your squinting eyes suddenly widen. “Oh shit! Your hair! Is it dark or light? My guess is dark based off of your body hair.”

“Mhm, dark. It’s brown. Somewhat curly.”

“Facial hair?”

He nods, “A little bit. I like to at least keep a mustache and some on my chin. I look… odd without a mustache.”

You scoff, “I thought you said you don’t have a problem with the way you look.”

“I don’t. I said I look odd, not bad.”

“Okay that’s fair. What about your eyes? I’m going to guess green.”

He shakes his head, smiling. Din adores the fact that you’re this enamored with him. “Brown.”

You close your eyes for a long moment, a content smile of your own crossing your features. “I’m trying to imagine you. Do you have any scars or anything like that? Missing half an eyebrow on one side?”

“Not really. I have both eyebrows. My nose is normal, if not a little big.”

“Well now I’m convinced that I’m right, you’ve got to be handsome in there.” You gently tap the beskar with one finger.

Din’s face becomes serious, unbeknownst to you, so his voice changes to match the seriousness on his face as he gestures towards his head, “I’m... grateful that you find me attractive with this on.”

You seem shocked by this, “Are you kidding? That thing is downright sexy. I can’t explain it, there’s just something about it. Maybe it’s how you wear it. The fact that you can just turn your head and say nothing but it completely changes the tone of a conversation. Your personality still manages to shine through the physical barrier. You know how to express yourself without anyone being able to see your real facial expressions.”

Din shrugs, “I had to learn how to do that.”

“I actually worry that this,” you gesture between the two of you, “is weird for you because I’m not a Mandalorian and I don’t wear one of those.”

Looking you over, Din decides to admit the thing he’s never spoken out loud to another person before, “I’m not proud of this, but I’ve never been able to see another mandalorian in the way that you see me. The helmet is not alluring to me.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you say quietly, frowning, “you are allowed to be attracted to whoever or whatever you want. Unless… oh shit, is this actually forbidden or something? Are we breaking some sort of sacred Mandalorian rule?”

Din shakes his head, “No. A Mandalorian is not required to take another Mandalorian as a mate. A bond is all that is required for a connection between two individuals to be considered valid.”

You grin, eyebrows shooting up, “So are we each other’s mate?”

Din had almost said the word “lover” a moment ago, it had been on the very tip of his tongue. Afraid that it would be the wrong thing to say, he’d instead gone with “mate” and now that you’ve jokingly pointed it out he feels incredibly awkward for his choice of wording. This is why he never used to talk unless he had to. In an attempt to recover he says, “Only if you want to be.”

“I think I could be cool with that.”

He’s confused by your odd turn of phrase, but he can tell that you meant it in a positive way. Scooting towards him, you spin yourself around and press your backside up against Din’s front. He instinctively curls his legs up to catch yours, wrapping one arm around you as he pulls you in close.

You both fall asleep in less time than it usually takes, comfort and contentment aiding two weary souls in finding rest.

*****

As the week goes on, you find yourself spending every day out by the lava fields of Nevarro learning hand to hand combat from your Mandalorian. Sometimes Cara joins your group, sometimes its just you, Din, and the kid.

On the second day, you force Din to do yoga with you so you can stretch out the tight leg muscles from the day before. It’s hilarious to see him do some of the poses, being that he insists on leaving all of his armor on. He’s covered in beskar attempting to do “happy baby”, and you really have to hold in your laughter because you don’t want him to think you’re picking on him. The kid joins in too, following your movements with much more ease than his father figure.

“A happy baby would never lay like this,” Din huffs, rocking as he struggles to keep hold of his booted feet. He finally gives up and lets his legs fall back down to the ground, rolling over to jab a finger towards his green foundling who is rolling around on his tiny back with his legs in the air. “I’ve certainly never seen him do that and he’s happy most of the time.”

Laughing, you sit up and shake your head at him. “It’s just a dumb name for it, it’s not supposed to be hyper-realistic.”

Later, after learning how to get out of a chokehold from behind, you take a break to do some art with the kid. It’s the first time you’ve broken out the set of supplies that Din bought on Nar Shaddaa, and the kid has a blast with it. At one point while you’re drawing flowers and animals on your board, the kid is drawling little scribbles on his own. Din’s seated beside you holding the kid in his lap, watching his foundling draw with interest.

When the kid turns around and holds up his work of art with a string of babbles, Din makes an odd little noise. It sounds choked, and it instantly grabs your attention.

“Wow, buddy. Is that us?” He sounds amazed as he lovingly pats him on the head, “Great job, kid.”

“Let me see, Green Bean.” You lean over to look at the kid’s art board, and your mouth drops open. To a stranger it would barely pass for a comprehensible picture, looking like three heaps of multicolored scribbles. But you can clearly see that the three scribbles are supposed to be Din, the kid, and yourself. The child’s green and tan form with big ears poking out is nestled between a back and purple scribble with extra purple on top, and a brown and silver scribble with a wiggly black T shape over the silver circle meant to be the head. The two big scribbles look to be holding hands above the green scribble’s head, long janky shapes meant to be arms touching each other at the ends.

Tears fill your eyes, overwhelmed with emotion for this little child. You lean forward with your eyes closed and press a kiss to the top of his head, feeling his small hand lift up to touch your neck. An image crosses your mind then, one of the Mandalorian and yourself raising the child as your own, and you have to force yourself not to get lost in it. After this little vacation the plan is still to find where he belongs and take him there, and your heart is already cracked in two at the mere thought of it.

“Great job, little dude,” you say with a grin when you sit up to look down at him again, “You’re such a good kid. You know that, right?”

“You really are,” Din agrees, scooping the kid up in his gloved hands as he lays down on his back, “The best kid in the galaxy.” He holds the green child up in the air, pretending that the little guy is a tiny starship as Din makes all kinds of mouth noises to simulate the act of flying. It’s hands down the most endearing thing you’ve ever seen Din do.

It is in that moment that your heart swells to the point of being painful and you realize how much you love these two people. What they truly mean to you. Din had said that you should all make the most of this respite on Nevarro, and so you intend to enjoy this time with the three of you all together as much as you can. Soaking in every second of it is your new priority for the next couple of days.

*****

On the third day, you finally get to see what the kid’s powers are really like when he uses them to tear Cara off of you. She has you in a pretty good chokehold, wanting to see what Din had taught you the day before, but she actually chokes you to hard for a moment and the kid does not respond well to seeing you unable to breathe. Cara suddenly goes flying back a few feet, landing on her ass. You cough and sputter, catching your breath again.

“Really?!” Dune glares at the kid, “This force crap again? I am not trying to hurt her.”

“Easy,” Din says, stepping in front f the kid’s pram. “He’s protective of us, and I didn’t like the way you were choking her either.”

Cara rolls her eyes, “She’s going to have to learn what the real thing feels like if she’s going to have any hope of defending herself.”

“Cara’s not wrong,” you say, rubbing at your neck. You move over to where the kid is looking up at you with concern in his big eyes, throwing a thumbs up his way. “I’m okay, Green Bean. Promise.”

“Fine,” Mando grunts, helping Cara up from the ground. “You and I should spar a little to show her what correct form looks like.”

“You’re on,” Cara agrees with a smirk.

You take a seat on a rock next to the kid’s pram, watching as the two warriors square up to fight each other. You really do try your best to keep an eye on both of them and take mental notes, but watching the Mandalorian move with so much ease as he dips and dodges from Cara’s oncoming attacks is so distracting. Every move, every tiny gesture, makes your head swim and your core heat up. He’s mesmerizing to watch, quickly spinning himself behind Cara’s back and pulling her into a chokehold. Cara breaks free, dropping down and spinning to push both hands into Din’s stomach. He grunts, taking a step back to steady himself.

“So that’s how it should look, but remember that how it feels is equally important... Are you listening?”

It takes you a moment to realize that Din is talking and you quickly try to recover, but Cara laughs at you and speaks first. “She’s got stars in her eyes, Mando.”

“I was paying attention, I swear!”

*****

This continues on for the rest of the week. You learn more in those few days than you thought possible in such a short amount of time, but you’re well aware that you’ll have a lot more to learn before you’re anywhere close to Din’s level of skill or Cara’s.

It’s the final day of your Nevarro vacation, as you’ve been calling it, and you find yourself seated at the city’s one restaurant again for breakfast. You’ve got the kid in your lap as you both eat, with Cara seated across from you. Din’s back at the inn eating his breakfast in private, so the two of you are enjoying a little girl time before he comes back.

You take a sip of caf, sighing into the cup as you look at Cara with mixed emotions. “Is it bad that I don’t want to leave? This week has been great.”

Cara shakes her head, “No, but I know Mando is still hung up on finding out where the kid belongs.”

“It’s his duty,” you reply flatly, “I have to respect that even if I don’t really agree with it.”

“So what’s going on with you two, anyway?” Cara’s question is surrounded by a bite of her food.

“I mean, I guess we’re a thing?” You shrug, “I’m trying to take this one day at a time.”

“So have you,” she looks down at the kid with a scrunched expression, “you know?”

“No. Almost, but no.” You sigh into your mug of caf again, eyeing her carefully as you consider what you want to say next. “I think I love him, Cara.”

It feels incredibly bizarre to say it out loud, despite having felt it and thought it for days.

“I thought that was obvious,” she says, grinning a little.

Rolling your eyes, you groan, “Why do I want to throw things at you when we have these conversations?”

“Because I’m right. And because I can see that you’re still spending too much time over thinking everything.” Your first friend in this galaxy’s face suddenly becomes serious as she sits her bowl of food down on the table, looking right into your eyes. “Listen, I lived through a pretty awful war and I’ve seen a lot of horrible shit in my day. I’ve lost a lot of people who I’ve cared for. The rebellion fought for freedom so that people could worry about things like love, and not when the Empire was going to show up and ruin their lives at a moments notice. Take it from someone who waited too long and missed their chance. This life is too short not to get what you want out of it.”

Unable to find the right words, you simply nod at her and extend gratitude for her little dose of wisdom. “Thanks, Cara. You’re a good friend.”

“You’re welcome.”

The kid makes a mess of his brown robe, so you sit him on the table to clean him off and that’s when you notice how crowded the restaurant is. It hasn’t been this crowded all week. Not once.

“What’s the all the hullabaloo about today?” Cara seems confused by your choice of wording so you laugh, “Why’s it so busy today? Is something going on?”

“Oh,” Dune says, “It’s a holiday.”

“How have I been here all week and not known this?”

She shrugs, “Beats me. Twice a year there’s an atmospheric anomaly that causes what the locals call a ‘light show’ at sundown. Nevarro holds a bi-annual festival in its honor, the ‘Festival of Lights.’ One in the warm part of the year to represent rebirth and life, and one in the cold part of the year to honor death. We’re coming up on the colder season, so today is the latter.”

You can’t help but grin, “That’s so cool. My favorite holiday back on Earth was all about honoring death, and it also marked the beginning of the cold season. It’s kind of lost it’s original meaning at this point though. So what’s this ‘light show’ look like?”

“I guess you’ll have to see for yourself when the sun sets.”

Holding the kid below each armpit, you bounce him on the table top a little as you imagine him dressed in an Earth Halloween costume. “On Earth we dressed up as various creatures on Halloween as part of the celebration. Maybe I should find you a little witch hat, kiddo.”

*****

After finishing his morning meal, Din sets out on the streets of Nevarro to meet you and the child at the restaurant and is shocked to see the city streets so full of life. There are vendors setting up small tables of goods to be sold, street performers preparing for their acts, and most people are dressed in pinks and purples which match the banners decorating the street lights.

“Mando!” Greef Karga’s boisterous voice interrupts his train of thought, and Din looks to his left to see the man himself approaching. “I’m glad you’re here. Today is going to be a very special day for Nevarro!”

“I didn't realize it was already that time of the year,” Din remarks, having been present for more than a few of the bi-annual light shows. It’s beauty is certainty a sight to behold, and he’s suddenly very excited at the prospect of you and the kid getting to see it for yourselves.

Karga nods, grinning. “This year is going to be different. We’ve gone all out, spared no expense. And I’ll be making a speech in regards to Nevarro’s future as a respectable planet. The outer rim doesn’t have to be all outlaws and old Empire outposts. As of today I will no longer be a part of The Guild, and all trade here is to be done respectfully and legally.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Din agrees, continuing in the direction of the restaurant with Karga in tow.

“I hear you’re planning to leave tomorrow,” the older man says.

“I still have a mission to accomplish,” Din responds.

Karga stops and holds out his hand, Din takes it and the two men shake. “Well, please know that there is always a place for you and yours here if you ever wish to stay.”

“Thank you, Greef.”

Karga breaks off to mingle with more of the locals, and Din makes the rest of his way to the restaurant.

Upon entering, he sees you and stops for a moment. Your back is to him, and you’re holding the child to stand on top of the table at which you’re seated. Cara is seated across from you, laughing, and you lean forward to touch noses with the kid as he also laughs and grabs at your purple hair.

The sight of it warms him, and when he realizes that this will be the last day of pretending that things aren’t about to get very uncomfortable in regards to the child, a chill cuts through that feeling of warmth. Little pangs of pain jab him in the heart, but he remembers his creed and takes a deep breath to steady himself. Painful as it may be, This is The Way.

“Mando, how in the hell did you not tell me that today is a holiday?” You say as he approaches the table.

Din grabs the kid from you, holding him to his chest as he shrugs. “I didn’t think about it until this morning.”

Looking up at him, your eyes are hopeful. “Well what’s the plan for today? I’d like to see what all the fuss is about.”

“The spot we’ve been using for training would be great for a secluded view of the lights,” Cara interjects, smirking at you for reasons unbeknownst to Din.

You grin at Cara then up at Din, “Well what if we poke around the festival for a little bit and then go out there to watch it? I think my body could use a rest day anyway.”

“That would be agreeable,” Din’s lips are tugging up into a grin of his own beneath the beskar. If he can, he just wants to make the two of you happy for this one day. He looks down at his foundling, “What do you think about it, pal?”

The kid makes a noise of agreement, smiling, and Din feels himself becoming misty eyed.

“I guess it’s settled then,” you agree, standing to join him.

The three of you spend the better part of the day roaming through the festivities, watching performers do odd tricks, eating street food that Din saves for when he’ll have a private moment to eat again. Mostly the group just enjoys the celebration of life, soaking up the energy that this gives off. There are small sections scattered throughout the city devoted to mourning the dead, and Din thinks of his fallen comrades as the group moves past them. He’s sure you’re thinking of your grandfather, watching your facial expressions change as you stop to admire one of the shrines.

At one point a woman drapes a pinkish-purple fabric over your head and says something to you in her native tongue before bowing her own head at you and walking off.

“What was that?” You ask up to Din once out of earshot, and he gestures around.

“The colors represent the colors of the atmospheric anomaly. It is seen as good luck to wear the colors on this day, that it will bring prosperity to your life. Just a superstition among the locals. She wished you a long and happy life, and for your fallen loved ones to have found peace in the afterlife.” Din smiles down at you, hidden as always.

“It’s amazing how many languages you can speak,” you remark, eyeing him with admiration.

“We should continue your education in Mando’a,” he replies.

With a little wink, you bump your hip into his slightly. “I would love that, ner burc’ya.”

“Cyar’ika,” Din replies lowly enough for only you to hear, wishing for privacy so that he would feel comfortable enough to reach out and touch you. Nights have been full of nothing but touching while on Nevarro, and Din finds himself slowly becoming addicted to it.

Random children stop to greet you here and there. Some remark that they miss your presence at the school or ask about Jupiter, while others simply grace you a quick hug before running off to re-join their families. Din can tell that this touches you, and you look so incredibly soft to him in those moments.

When a stand selling plush toy versions of lava meerkats catches the kid’s eye, the pram floats over to the stand and the kid begins reaching for one with grabby little hands. One begins to lift up and float towards him, and Din has to quickly snatch it out of the air.

Grinning up at Din, you gesture towards the child with a loving expression. “Aw, look at that he wants a toy!” Din just stares at you so you begin to pout, “Oh come on don’t be a party pooper. Let’s get it for him.”

“It’s overpriced.”

“So is everything here today.”

Seeing how much the child wants it, and thinking back to his thoughts earlier of wanting to make the both of you happy today, Din conforms with a sigh. He pays for the toy and hands it over to the child, who hugs it so happily that Din suddenly doesn’t care about how much it had cost.

After listening to Greef Karga’s speech about the future of Nevarro, you look to Din and motion with your head that you’d like to get out of the crowd. He feels similarly, and so the three of you exit the city to make your way out to the rocky fields where you’ve been spent the last several days.

“Sunset will be soon, so I figured it was a good time to get out of there. Plus it was getting a little too crowded,” you say once the party arrives, sitting your things down on a rock.

“Agreed,” Din says, setting the child down to play with his new lava meerkat. He immediately starts chasing after some sort of insect with it so Din calls after him, “Stay close, kid.”

The two of you take a seat beside one another and you pull out the personal device from your bag, setting it up to charge in what’s left of the sunlight. Din looks down at it, suddenly feeling like he wants to understand more about the culture you were raised in.

“Why do humans put so much emphasis on music where you’re from?” He asks, watching you for a reaction.

You look at him and smile, “Music is one of the many ways us Earthlings express ourselves artistically. It can move people on an emotional level. You can have a terrible day, and then dancing and singing along to your favorite song can make you forget why your day was bad at all. As for the people who make the music, it can be a form of dealing with something that’s going on in their lives. One person can write songs about falling in love, another can write about something sad that happened to them. It’s all about how you feel in the moment. Even music without words can spark an emotional reaction, which is why we use music to amplify the emotional moments in films. On a personal level, music has helped me get through tough times and other times its simply been a source of joy.”

“Mm,” Din responds, unsure of what else to say.

“What about your culture? Are there Mandalorian songs?”

“Yes, mostly war songs about the glory of our ancestors in battle.”

You grin, laying back to look up at the sky with your hands behind your head. “I’d be interested to hear what that sounds like.”

Din sits there for a moment, keeping an eye on the kid while he mulls over the impulse he’s feeling. Maker its been so long since he’d done this, but you’ve become the person he trusts most and he knows that you would treat his decision with respect.

And so he begins to sing. At first the sound of it is so foreign to him that he’s not sure if he’s got the pitch right, but the ancient words flow out him as he chants the old war song. This one was always his favorite as a foundling, and getting to share it with you strikes a chord within his heart.

You’re sitting up again, staring at him in awe when he finishes. He’s avoided looking at you through all of it, but now he’s meeting your gaze through the beskar with a new sense of confidence after seeing your reaction.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” a little smile plays at your lips as you shove at his shoulder with one hand.

“It’s nothing special,” Din counters.

You roll your eyes, “Yes, it is. You just shared a Mandalorian war song with me, and you sang it beautifully. That’s special, Din.”

The kid waddles over to the two of you with his new toy, climbing up into Din’s lap as he stares at him with an equally awestruck expression.

“See? He agrees,” you laugh a little.

“Play me one of your favorite songs,” Din lightly commands, tone soft.

“Hmm,” you seem to ponder something for a moment, before grabbing the iPad and clicking around on it. “Aha, this is a good one. You know that shirt with the guy on it that I love so much?” Din nods, so you continue, “He’s a musician named David Bowie, and he was huge deal on Earth. This song is one of my favorites because it’s space themed. It’s called ‘Moonage Daydream.’”

Din leans his head back, allowing his eyes to slip closed as he listens to the odd music. It’s pleasant, even though the lyrics make absolutely no sense to him. You begin to hum along to it at one point and eventually you’re singing along to the words. He feels the kid leave his lap at one point, prying an eye open to see you dancing around with the foundling in your arms.

The song changes over, and Din stands up to join you. “I’ve heard this one before, you play it quite a bit on the ship.”

You look bashful for half a second, sitting the kid back down on the ground. He continues dancing with his meerkat. “Yeah this one felt relevant when I first got stuck here. It’s called ‘Message in a Bottle’ by a group called The Police. The lyrics are heavily metaphorical, but its about being stranded on an island after a shipwreck and feeling incredibly alone.”

“I can see how that would have resonated with you,” Din remarks, head tilting down.

“Yeah, but now it feels like someone found my bottle and I’m not alone anymore.” You look up at him through thick lashes, and Din wishes for a split second that he could kiss you the real way.

Instead, he touches his forehead to yours to kiss you in the Mandalorian way. “Let the music play for a while.”

As the three of you wait for the sun to finish setting, something that is rapidly approaching, your Earth music cycles through a few more songs. Each one is vastly different from the next, and its a marvel to Din Djarin that a simple planet creates so much variety.

Then, just as the light show is about to begin, a song with a slower rhythm and lyrics that are clearly meant to be romantic starts playing. Without a second thought, Din grabs your arm and pulls you to him. He starts to gently sway his hips back and forth, guiding you to do the same in tandem with his movements as he dances with you.

In the pram floating next to you both, the child is already looking up at the sky with a mesmerized expression. You’re still staring at Din, so he puts a hand to your chin to gently point your face upwards.

“Watch the sky, Cyar’ika.”

Din’s seen the pink and purple swirls of light in Nevarro’s atmosphere many times, so his own eyes do not leave yours as he watches the spectacle in the reflection there. Your face lights up, both literally with pink hues, and figuratively as your mouth falls open into a wide smile. Your eyes shine, and Din never stops gently dancing with you.

“Mesh’la,” you breathe, never taking your eyes off of the natural display of beauty above your head.

*****

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*****

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odiesdayoff · 9 months

Text

Borrow

pair: Dano!Edward Nashton x fem!reader | Adrian Chase x fem!reader

summary: Vigilante & Riddler borrow (steal) your car for a job.

warnings: smut (minors dni); handjobs; mention of blowjobs; dubious consent; kidnapping; i try to be funny

i love these nerds and im trying to get back into writing...

You leaned your head against the steering wheel and let the tears stream from your eyes. The Gotham City Public Radio station was permanently stuck, the knob broke off of the console weeks ago. Some campy songs from the 90s played softly. Pathetic, really. Two months into your new jobs and you were already having a breakdown after you clocked out.

The passenger door opened and before your panic was registered, a masked man sat next to you, shut the door, and pulled the safety of a gun off. He was in green, wearing mostly tactical gear. The mask he wore had openings that allowed you to see his eyes. His voice was muffled, seemingly going through a voice changer. “Get out of the car.”

You stared down the barrel of the gun before shakily unbuckling your seatbelt and opening your door. “Shit.” A hand grabbed your arm and pulled you from the car. It was another masked man, but he had an entirely different outfit…or suit. His mask was almost completely covering his face, save for a tinted visor over his eyes. His suit was made of nylon and was mostly teal and darker blue.

The man outside of the car looked you up and down, then at his partner. “Shoot her. I don’t wanna waste any of my bullets.”

The other man shook his head and put his gun down. “She’s innocent.”

“She’s seen us and knows what car we’re in! She’ll go right to the cops once we leave.” The man held your other arm and slightly shook you to emphasize his point.

You struggled against him. “I won’t tell! I’m also very against the whole ‘shooting me’ plan.”

The other man thought for a moment, silent. “Put her in the trunk.” He pulled a thick roll of duct tape from his waistband and tossed it to the man holding you. He wasted no time pulling the tape off and covering your mouth. Your heavy breathing and slight whimpering were muffled.

He dragged you towards the trunk, wrapping your wrists together. He hoisted you into the trunk and taped your ankles together before fully pushing you in and closing it. Your surroundings went dark as you could vaguely hear their voices in conversation. The car started to move.

Adrian nodded his head to the song on the radio before Edward slammed his fist against the console, turning it off completely. “I still don’t see why we couldn’t just steal an uninhabited car.” He sighed, crossing his arms and looking forward at the road, which was quickly darkening.

“Carjacking is a crime,” Adrian retorted. He flicked his blinker on and waited for the light to turn green in order to turn left.

It was like Edward was working with a child. He still couldn’t believe he got wrapped up in something like this. Arkham was looking like the genuinely better deal than having to spend time with this man. “Kidnapping is a much worse crime. One we are actively doing.” He gestured to the trunk.

Adrian shook his head. “We’re just borrowing her car…and her. We’ll give it back and everything will be cool.” He smiled, though nobody but him would know that. Neither of the two took their masks off in front of each other. If they passed each other on the sidewalk, they wouldn’t know a thing. Unless, that is, they started to talk.

After a lot of driving and little conversation, Adrian pulled into the parking lot of the abandoned building they were due to meet The Penguin.

He thought it was a little unethical to be working for someone who wanted to be a crime boss, but Oz had convinced him that he was only trying to become the boss so that evil guys like Falcone or Maroni wouldn’t be there. He was happy to help. As for Edward, he was released on probation under the surveillance of Oz, given that he worked for him.

“You got my information?” He smoked a cigar and observed the vehicle the two literal serial killers stepped out of.

There was a hot pink bumper sticker that read hot girls hit curbs along with another that read fart zone: enter at your own risk and a few different cartoon characters scattered all over . He rolled his eyes. The left side of the car had thick scratches, the paint completely stripped off. The front bumper was held to the car with several strips of duct tape. Knowing Vigilante, there was a good chance that it was his personal car.

Riddler held a flash drive in his hand and tossed it over. “All the employee information from the new mayor’s office. Are we done here?”

Oz twirled the drive between his fingers. “You boys did good. Glad to see you two getting along.” Sarcasm dripped from each word. Again, Edward crossed his arms. “Yeah, yeah. Get back in your, uh, Vigilante-Mobile and I’ll call you when I need something else.”

Adrian laughed and held up a hand. “That piece of junk isn’t the Vigilante-Mobile.”

The Penguin raised a brow and playfully smirked. “Is it yours, Eddie?”

“It’s stolen,” Edward stoically replied.

Vigilante slapped Edward’s back and laughed again, shaking his head. “It’s not stolen, dude. We went over this. We’re just borrowing the car and her for the time being.”

“Hold on, what does ‘and her’ mean?” Oz looked at the car, then at the two masked men standing in front of him.

Vigilante shrugged. “We didn’t want to kill the girl who owned the car, so she’s in the trunk.”

“You mean to tell me there’s some broad in the trunk of that car?” The men nodded. “Show me.”

Fear still pulsed through you, moreso when you realized that the car wasn’t driving anymore and the men had left the car. Did they plan on leaving you there to die? Or worse?

Suddenly, light poured into your eyes and you looked up. Three men, one of which you hadn’t seen before and didn’t even have a mask, looked down at you. Your eyes widened with fear. The man in blue held out a hand to present you. “See?”

The unmasked man took a hit from his cigar and blew it in your direction. “She’s cute. You two need a little extra cash? I’d buy her off your hands.”

You frantically shook your head and tried to scoot yourself further back into the trunk, now against the back seat.

“Relax, we’re not selling her. That’s gross.” Vigilante scoffed at Penguin’s proposition. It was bad enough that he was kinda sorta committing a crime by taking her car and her, but human trafficking was certainly not the business he wanted to be a part of. Unless he was busting it.

“Always looking for new blood at the Lounge. She’d be real popular.” He turned around and started for his own car. “Do what you two gotta do. I don’t care.”

The masked men looked down at you once again. “This looks too much like kidnapping. Can we put her in the backseat? And you can sit with her.” Vigilante looked at Edward with pleading eyes that he could barely see.

“Fine.” Edward shook his head and went to sit in the back.

Adrian reached into the trunk and slinked his arms under you, picking you up. The man was surprisingly strong. He shut the trunk and sat you next to Edward in the backseat. He sat in the driver’s seat, turning to face the two of you. “Seat belts!”

Edward begrudgingly buckled himself in, then reached over you and buckled you in. The car started to move once he had heard all the necessary clicks.

You felt a hand rest on your thigh and sure enough, it was Edward’s. A part of you wanted to feel disgusted, but god you were horny and this was the closest thing to action that you’d gotten in a long time.

He squeezed you when the car made a sharp turn and the faintest gasp left your mouth. The duct tape didn’t stop the sound entirely. He looked at you, at his hand placement, then back at your face. You wondered if he could see how hot your cheeks were and you didn’t even know if it was from embarrassment.

Curiously, he inched his hand further up your thigh. “When was the last time you got laid?” He wasn’t talking to you, rather the other man.

Vigilante laughed. “Wow, uh, I had this sweet threesome with Peacemaker and this chick we met in a bar. It was so hot, but that was, like, a few months ago at least. Back in Washington.”

Edward tried to keep a straight face. It seemed like his partner was lying, but he could never be too sure. The man was full of surprises. “You wouldn’t mind if I…” He glanced at you.

“In public? That’s illegal!” He nearly stopped the car short.

He unbuckled your seatbelt and pulled you on his lap. You straddled his leg and faced him, feeling the friction between your pants and the thick fabric of his own. Each of his gloved hands held your hips. “The car isn’t public.”

Vigilante fully stopped the car and looked back at the two of you. “Yes, it is. Put her back in the seat. God, you’re worse than Peacemaker.”

With a heavy eye roll, Edward pushed you off of him and buckled you in again. Adrian gave a satisfied nod, then faced the road. You faced forward, quiet. Not that you could really say anything in the first place.

After each name that you heard, you tried to burn them into your memory. Man in blue knows Peacemaker. He was the guy that killed all those butterfly alien…things. You read an article about it quite a while ago. By association, that guy must’ve been Vigilante.

The man with the cigar said something about bringing you to the Lounge. If he was the Penguin, then that meant that he was talking about the Iceberg Lounge.

The man in the green was the only one you knew. You never saw him up close…or long enough to actually recognize. The Riddler. You moved in just a few months after he flooded the city and everyone was still talking about it. You went on a date with someone who openly admitted to being a part of the cult that followed him.

You weren’t necessarily opposed to the idea of keeping this whole thing quiet. Neither of them hurt you, other than the eventual ripping of the duct tape that was certainly stuck to the hair on your arms and everything else. You dreaded that more than the men in the car with you. Did that make you a bad person? Or at least an immoral one?

“Can I at least get a handjob?” Edward whined.

Vigilante tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and shook his head. “Fine. Under your pants, though. I don’t wanna see your dick.”

The duct tape didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would as it was pulled from your wrists. It felt strange to have control of your hands once again, as if it were days. In reality, it was about an hour at most.

You didn’t hesitate to reach for his pants, pulling his jacket open and grazing your fingertips against the buttons on his jeans. Impatient, he pulled his shirt up, revealing his soft stomach and happy trail that disappeared under his pants.

You followed the trail. As your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, he let out a deep exhale that turned into a soft moan. Has it been that long since he’s had any type of sex that wasn’t with his own right hand? It isn’t that much of a difference if it’s your right hand, is it?

“Can you shut the fuck up, dude? It’s bad enough I gotta know it’s happening, I don’t wanna hear it, too.” Adrian kept glancing in the rearview mirror and rolling his eyes from behind his visor. He could clearly see the bulge in Edward’s pants and each time that your fist gently pushed against the fabric as you jerked him off.

Edward white-knuckled his seatbelt as he tried to stay quiet. The combination of the warmth of your hand and the friction of the fabric of his pants were well enough to send him over the edge, but he knew that he needed to last as long as possible. For his own sake. And to beat the humiliation of finishing after a few lousy pumps. “Fuck.”

You continued to stroke him until you felt the droplets of warm cum trickle along your fingers. This was a first for you and you would be lying if you said it didn’t give you a boost of confidence to see how quickly the man unraveled at your touch. You wondered if he was attractive under the mask. His face would be on the internet, right?

With him distracted with the aftermath of his orgasm, you pulled your hand from his pants and took the duct tape from your mouth. You bent down to take it from your ankles. He was heavily breathing and leaning against the back of his seat.

“So, um, you’re not gonna kill me, right? I think we established enough trust here to know I won’t go to the cops.” You looked toward Vigilante, who had fully focused his attention back on the road.

He shrugged. “I guess so. You know you have almost all of your warning lights on. That’s, like, really bad.”

This man was the last person that should be judging you. Nobody cares if your check engine light is on. “I can’t afford a new one and I don’t want to get it fixed…until the mechanic industry hires more women.” You crossed your arms as if this were a righteous decision. Your bank account didn’t allow for a car that wasn’t close to breaking down at any point.

“Whatever, dude. It’s your choice. I support women’s rights. What I can’t support is lying, which I know you just did. How can I be sure that you weren’t lying about going to the cops?” Once he was at a red light, he turned around to face you.

Your cheeks burned from embarrassment. He was smarter than you thought, surprisingly. You scratched the back of your neck. “I’ll suck your dick.”

He blinked, not sure what to do. “Oh…okay.”

#the riddler x reader #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x reader #edward nashton x reader #odiesdayoff

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