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obsessedelusional · 2 months

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chocolate (smut)

paring ↬ Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary ↬ You’ve been with Eddie for over three years, it’s only natural that the two of you would get comfortable? But are you too comfortable? It’s been nearly a month since you two had sex. When you realize that it sends you into a panic, desperate to find that spark again. You purchase enhancing chocolate and a sexy outfit, as a a surprise. What happens when your plans fall through, causing a argument?

word count ↬ 2.4K

a/n: thank you for all the love on my last eddie one shot, inspired me to finish this.. which if I’m being entirely honest is from a request from well over a year ago and has been sitting unfinished since then.. anyways.. luveeee you

Feedback & Reblogs appreciated! Thank you ᜊ

Being three years into a relationship things can become stagnant but you always swore that would never happen to your relationship with Eddie. Yet here you two were on your way into the roommate phase. You two too comfortable cohabiting, like a couple of friends sharing a bedroom. A bedroom that hasn’t seen any action in weeks. Three weeks, four days to be exact.

A few day shy of a month is when it hit you like a ton of bricks. Sending you into a deep one sided spiral focused on your relationship with Eddie. No one’s to blame, both of your work schedules taking up so much time. Eddie worked Monday through Friday at the local mechanic shop. His weekends usually spent with his band. Between attending college and work, you we’re just as busy.

It was a rare occasion that your schedules aligned to have the same day off. So when a coworker asked to switch days off so they could have Tuesday off and you’d be off on Sunday, you happily agreed. Deciding in that moment you’d do something to reignite the relationship.

After some thought you decided to surprise Eddie with some sexy goodies. A quick trip to the local sex shop and less than a hundred dollars later, you have a bag full of supplies. You decided on a black lace lingerie set that didn’t leave much up to the imagination and aphrodisiac chocolate. Something you have never done with Eddie before. When you get home Eddie isn’t there so you hide your new things saving them for Sunday.

—

“You work today?” Eddie asks curiously, when he comes out of the bathroom to find you sat in the kitchen. Normally by now you were long gone, it’s almost noon and he’s just waking up.

“No someone wanted to switch so I have today off.” You explain, smile plastered across your face. It was Sunday afternoon and you were excited to execute your plans. Eddie moves closer towards you, examining the spread of breakfast you prepared for him.

“What’s all this for?” He asks reaching for a slice of bacon throwing it into his mouth.

“For you. Just wanted to do something special.” You respond, Eddie wraps his half naked body around you enveloping you in a tight hug.

“Thank you baby.” He says face digging into your shoulder, smelling your hair. He pulls away just far enough to brush it out of the way. Moving in again, kissing up your neck. You have so much pent up sexual frustration you’re ready to say fuck this food and your entire plan, ready to let Eddie take you right then and there.

Before you can take it to the next level, he pulls away completely. Grabbing a plate and serving himself the food you prepared. Eddie doesn’t notice the exaggerated eye roll you give just sits down at the table, filling his face.

“This is delicious,” he mumbles between chewing bringing a smile back to you. You join him with your own plate, sitting next to him. He does the silly little thing he’s always done, dragging your chair with you in it closer to him. He looks proud when your close enough to his liking, going back to the meal in front of him. You eat filled with contentment that after all these years he still does the tiny things still.

“Any plans for today?” You ask. Eddie looks up from a his plate like he’s thinking.

“Yeah the bands meeting at two to practice for a few hours.” He says, your face tells on you falling into a frown.

“I promise as soon as we’re done. You’ll have my full undivided attention all night, okay?” He does his best to reassure you but you can’t help but feel irritated and it’s apparent in your demeanor.

“Is there something else you wanted to do today?” He asks, confused by your sudden change in mood.

“I had a surprise for you but I’ll guess it’ll wait.”

“What was it?” He asks.

“It can wait... You can find out when ever you decide to come home.” You respond, the annoyance heavy in your tone.

“Whatever.” He laughs causing an unreasonable amount of anger to flood over you.

“Whatever? I just wanted to do something for us today.” You raise your voice standing up in the process, leaving Eddie sat alone at the table. He lets out an defeated groan, you ignore it. Heading straight to your bedroom. Suddenly the apartment feels too small wishing you could escape somewhere else. Crawling into bed, hiding under the covers letting the frustrated tears fall.

—

You’re not sure how much time has passed, you had fallen asleep after you and Eddie’s little tiff. The sound of someone entering the room is what stirs you, the feeling of Eddie climbing into bed next to you is what fully wakes you. He slips through the covers, finding you and cuddling with you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. You roll over to face him, he looks genuinely upset.

“I’m sorry too.” You sigh. Eddie goes to talk but you cut him short by speaking up.

“I just wanted to do something special for you because we’ve basically turned into roommates.”

“Baby that’s not true.”

“It is Eddie. We haven’t had sex in almost a month.”

“No it hasn’t been…” His voice trails off trying to remember the last time, drawing a blank.

“It’s no one’s fault, we’re both just busy. I was so excited to spend today with you, I should have told you beforehand not just expected you.” You say, holding back tears. Eddie has started lightly tracing the side of your face listening to you speak.

“The insecure part of me has been spiraling for the last week, thinking the worst. That maybe we haven’t done anything because you don’t want me anymore.” As you talk the tears slowly trickle out from your eyes, landing on your pillow. Eddie wipes away at your tears before responding, pulling you in closer in the process.

“That is far from the case, baby. I love you so much. I’ve been working so much and focusing on the band. I forgot to prioritize you.” He pulls you all the way, slipping an arm under you hugging you tightly. Placing a sweet kiss on your head.

—

After a much needed conversation that lasted a solid hour, Eddie and you were still laid in bed. Topic had moved on to something less heavy. Eddie was now sat up in bed, you resting your head in his lap while he plays with your hair. You had just found out that he skipped practice because he felt so shitty.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m glad I did. This was needed. Plus how will I ever get my surprise, huh?” You shake your head no feeling as if the moments been ruined.

“Come on just tell me what it was.” He begs, you push up from his lap to see his face. His big brown puppy eyes on full display, bottom lip pouting. He knew exactly how to get what he wanted. You groan before getting out of bed and heading straight to the drawer where you hid the goodies. In a swift motion you pull out the plastic bag, tossing it at Eddie. He catches it pulling out the items inside.

“This isn’t gonna fit me.” He jokes, holding the lingerie by a single strap. You roll your eyes before snatching it out of his hands. He continues digging through the bag finding the special chocolate.

“Chocolate?” He asks confused.

“It’s enhancing chocolate.” His face is still full of confusion.

“It’s suppose to stimulate blood flow, enhances performance.” You explain watching as Eddie reads over the box.

“What are we waiting for?” He asks, ripping open the package. Before you can protest he plops his half in his mouth, passing you the other half. You follow in his lead eating the chocolate.

“How long does it take?” Eddie asks, examining the box further.

“20 to 40 minutes? What the hell are we supposed to do until then?” He says throwing the box the side, looking up at you. Eyes going from the lingerie to your face, his grin growing.

“We can start with you putting that on.” Eddie suggests.

A few long minutes later, you come out of the bathroom dressed in your new lingerie. His eyes find you, muttering ‘fuck’. He stands up from the bed approaching you. Once he’s a few inches away from, his hands find your hips. Letting himself explore your body in this new outfit. Tracing the lacey undergarment with his hands.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, pulling you closer. He lifts your face before pressing his lips to yours, kissing you softly. You return the kiss, you fingers reaching behind his neck. Finding his hair and tangling them in the nape of his neck, tugging slightly. Just enough to elicit a small moan from his lips.

You two are twisted together, without breaking the kiss he begins to take a few steps back. You follow as he sits on the bed, climbing into his lap. Pushing him till he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. You’re eager, ready to take it farther kissing down his neck. Lowering your body, pressing delicate kisses along his torso as you go.

Eddie watches closely as you pull his bottoms off, lifting his hips and helping you to get him undressed. As soon as he’s fully nude, your making yourself comfortable inbetween his legs.

“How do I know it’s the chocolate and not what you’re doing that has my dick so hard?” He questions, making you roll your eyes laugh in softly.

“Shh..” You respond, taking his erection in your hand pumping it slowly.

When he doesn’t shut up trying to press the question again, you kiss his tip before licking the crown of his cock. That shuts him up, watching your lips part around him. Your head moving up and down. Eddie lets his moans out as his tip hits the back of your throat. His eyes nearly roll in the back of his head when your hand starts to play with his balls.

“F-fuck!” Eddie groans as he gently pushes your head lower, enjoying the sight of his cock dissaprering into your throat.

A mess of your saliva pools at the base of his cock. He holds you there for a few moments, tears forming at your eyes until he lets go. You quickly lift your head, a long web of drool hangs from your lips to his cock. You make eye contact wipe it away then use that hand to pump him again.

Before you can continue, he’s guiding you up his body. Kissing your swollen and slick lips. Your core rests on his wet cock, you don’t waste a moment grinding your hips. Both of you moan into the kiss at the friction. His cock slips through your folds, hitting your clit. It feels too good and he hasn’t even entered yet. You’ve been waiting too long for this, so you raise your hips. He takes the hint aligning himself with your hole. You sink down slowly, inch by inch.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Eddie mutters, his hands gripping your hips. The feeling of being filled is overwhelming. The stretch is a bit paniful but in the best way possible. You look down at Eddie before moving your hips at a steady pace. Both of you moaning, his grip tightening leaving marks in their wake. Guiding your hips to move faster.

Your pace quickens, taking him deeply. Every inch of him plunging into your warmth. You’re too distracted by the sensation to notice him pulling you closer. Eddie hungrily kissing you, his tongue asking for permission by sliding against your lips. Your mouth opens, tongues meeting each other. Without any warning Eddie’s hips thrust into you. A moan breaks the kiss, as he continues to jerk himself into you. His movements matching yours. It stops for a moment only because Eddie is rolling over on top of you.

“Get on your knees, I want to fuck you from behind.” He demands and you gladly listen. Positioning yourself infront of him, your ass up and face down.

Eddie take his cock, pushing it in one quick thrust. Watching as he disappears into your hole. He’s pounding into you, giving you no time to adjust. Your whimpers grow louder as he fucks you at a brutal pace. The sensation of his balls hitting your clit adds to the pleasure.

You’re gripping the sheets, pushing back against his thrusts. Eddie grabs a fist of your hair, pulling it. Tears swell at your eyes, it hurts so good. As you bite your lip, he continues his pace. Fucking you so roughly. Your body begins to tremble as you get closer to your finish, letting Eddie know your close. That what he is doing is working.

You disolve into pleasure, your body becoming putty as he keeps pounding into you. A chocked sob leaves your mouth as you come undone. Your walls spasm bringing Eddie closer to his end. With a few more jerks of hips he’s coming, panting your walls with his seed. He releases your hair, kissing your shoulder tenderly. He pulls out, dropping onto his back. You lay down next to him. Your chests heaving as you both try to breathe.

“How long is it supposed to last?” Eddie asks so you reach for the box.

“Uh… effect could last up to three hours.” You read out loud.

“I feel like I could go again.” He admits, looking down at his erection.

“Yeah?” You ask eagerly.

“Mhmm we have to make up for lost time.” He says, facing you bringing his lips to your chest. Nibbling softly on your skin.

“But I think it’s only fair I taste you this time.” He whispers, kissing down your stomach and to your core.

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bedsyandco · 6 months

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age is just a number ☆ quinn hughes

note: Ahhh! I love writing Quinn so much😭 this was written in 20 minutes, i'll edit it later, i just really wanted to post it cause I have 0 patience and self control

requested: yes

summary: luke bsf x Quinn hughes. 4 year age gap. After some comments were made by Quinn's brothers, you get a little insecure in your relationship and Quinn has to reassure you

You and Quinn had been dating a few months now. sneaking around behind everyone's backs including Luke. Your best friend and Quinn's youngest brother.

The four of you were sitting in the living room at the lake house, watching some movie. Jack and Luke were chirping Quinn about some actress that he used to have a crush on. Going on and on about how he had a thing for older women because he was such a mommas boy.

You laughed along at first, always finding it so endearing to watch the brothers bicker back and forth. Even though you've been around to witness it for quite a few years now...it never got old.Your smile quickly faded when Jack started making comments about how all Quinn's relationships with younger women has failed, and that he should go for someone older this time, cause it doesn't seem like the younger girls can handle him.

You know you shouldn't let these comments bother you. It wasn't that serious and it wasn't directed towards you, but it was one of your, if not the biggest insecurity you had when it came to your relationship with Quinn. Being four years younger than him. Not being enough to keep him interested. These comments from two people who probably knew him the best, didn't do anything to reassure you.

"I'll be right back," you whisper, avoiding Quinn's eyes as you make your way to the bathroom.

A few minutes later there's a soft knock on the door and Quinn enters, shutting the door behind him and coming over to where you're standing in front of the sink. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder softly.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" he asks you softly

"Nothing," you mumble and he puts his hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him and pushing you against the counter.

"Don't lie to me. I know you well enough to know everything's not okay and even if I didnt this pout is enough to tell me there's something wrong." Quinn says, rubbing circles on your hip and tracing your lips with the thumb of his other hand.

"Do you think I'm too young for you?" the words slip out before you can stop them and Quinn sighs, knowing his brother's comments was the cause of this.

"Age is just a number baby," Quinn says teasingly and you sigh.

"Quinn I'm being serious," you retort, grabbing both of his hands and holding them in yours, the way they were caressing you becoming a little too distracting.

"So am I. I don't care if you're 4 years younger or 4 years older or if you were born the exact same day I was. It doesn't change the fact that you're perfect for me. You know how Jack is, especially if he's been drinking, he can't keep his mouth shut. Especially if there's an opportunity to chrip me about something. If they knew that we were together, he would be more careful about making remarks like that." Quinn says and you bite the inside of your cheek, knowing he was right.

"I'm not ready to tell Luke yet." you say and Quinn nods, expecting that response from you.

"The longer we wait, the worse it's gonna be." Quinn replies and you look down, not wanting to argue about this. again.

Quinn sighs softly before taking his hand out of yours and cupping your face between his palms, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

"God it's torture seeing you all day and not being able to touch you. Kiss you." he says wrapping his arms around your waist and just hugging you for a few minutes. You smile a bit, thinking that this is exactly why he was nicknamed "huggy bear". Your guy loves hugging.

"I'll sneak into your room tonight. If you think a young girl like me can handle you," you quip and Quinn chuckles, knowing you're not gonna let that go for a while.

"I think you can handle me just fine baby" Quinn smirks, slapping your ass as you walk past him, and out the door.

#⇢ ˗ˏˋ 📂 bedsyandco works!#⇢ ˗ˏˋ 📜 cam's fics #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic

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cherienymphe · 8 months

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Haunted (Damon Salvatore x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, MURDER, compulsion, blood, stalking, abusive relationship, domestic violence

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

summary: If you'd known that your ex-boyfriend was a vampire, you would've gotten a stake instead of a restraining order.

You patted your face dry with the small hand towel, basking in the silence that surrounded you. It was the silence of a home that belonged entirely to you, occupied with no one else but you. You weren’t concerned with who was standing over your shoulder nor whose face would greet yours in the reflection when you looked up.

When you walked out of the bathroom, there was no surprise guest waiting for you by the door…or on your bed.

You liked to think that you were always a good judge of character. You always made good and trustworthy friends, always avoided conflict with wicked people, and even picked boyfriends that treated you nothing less than decent. Every single one had been perfect, and the only thing that contributed to the downfall of your relationships was nothing more than maturity and growing apart.

Then Damon happened.

He was everything you always avoided. Devilishly handsome—the kind that drove girls to lose all common sense—, hedonistic to a fault, and mysterious in ways that grew less sexy and more concerning over time. That crooked smile of his went from mischievous to nerve-wracking. His knack for knowing where you seemed to be at all times morphed from caring to worrying.

Damon looked like the devil come to earth…and he slowly started to feel that way too.

You stared out of your window with your hands at your side, dismayed at how you of all people ended up in such a situation. Gone were the days where you always wanted to be around him and soon came the days where you were scrambling for just five minutes away from him. There was a time where you thought you’d never get that again…but here you were…back home…

…and safe.

Mystic Falls was small and quaint and quiet. Granted, you hadn’t been home in years, but upon returning, it was like nothing had changed. Your house was still the same, your cousin and great aunt were still the same, and you felt more at peace with one foot into the town than you had in almost a year. It wasn’t until you were finally away from him did you realize just how much Damon had drained you.

He took up so much of your time that you’d been driven to drop out of school with only another year left. You’d been too overwhelmed, and unable to pinpoint the exact problem at the time, you’d broken down in class and came to the conclusion that college was the problem when in actuality…the problem was the raven-haired man who shadowed your every footstep.

You looked down at your wrists, recalling the way he used to wrap his hands around them when he wanted your full attention. That was something he seemed to hate, how much he could never fully hold your attention. How your every waking thought wasn’t consumed with him.

Damon absolutely hated not being the center of your universe. He hated when you’d call your cousin or great aunt to see how they were doing. He hated when you went out with your friends after class. He hated when he’d call or come by, and you were otherwise occupied. It had seemed like he wanted you to sit around twiddling your thumbs with nothing to do but wait for him.

You’d thought it was cute at first, that he was just so enamored with you that he wanted to spend all his free time with you, but then… Then you saw it for what it was, most especially when he’d snatched your arm one day, forcing you to pause in your phone call. It happened so suddenly, and you’d been in shock, but your incredulous stare had done nothing to deter him.

“Sweetheart…I had plans to take you out.”

He’d said it in that smooth baritone of his, the kind that made your knees weak, and instead of holding your resolve, you’d actually given in. You had actually felt bad for holding him up and ruining his surprise, profusely apologizing before bidding your cousin goodbye. He hadn’t let you go once that night, and if you’d been concerned by it—something you couldn’t even recall—it had definitely been long gone by the end of the night.

Damon had a way of making you overlook every concerning detail, especially when he was kissing you and playing your body so well that it seemed like you’d been dating for years instead of less than seven months. Whenever you closed your eyes, it was easy to recall the feel of his soft lips gliding down your stomach, his nimble fingers sliding into you, his hips pressing against yours as he filled you up.

It was all a distraction, a pretty package to hide his true nature.

Even though you were hundreds of miles away, far away from your ex-boyfriend, a shudder still passed through you at the mere thought of him. You stared out into the night with your arms wrapped around yourself, teeth sinking into your lip. You flexed your wrist, still surprised at what it felt like to not hurt after all this time, and you took a step back away from the window.

Your eyes strayed to the lock, confirming that it was locked, and you slowly made your way downstairs. Despite the fact that you knew they were, you still wanted to make sure that both doors were locked too. Damon was far away, and even if he wasn’t, your restraining order made sure he would stay that way, but something in you couldn’t hold off the feeling that he was just over your shoulder.

You didn’t think Damon would ever go through such lengths, but there had also been a time where you didn’t think he’d ever show up at your door again after you’d blatantly broken up with him. You didn’t think there’d be a time where he sprained your wrist. You never imagined a day would come where you’d make your way down to the police station and have to plead your case about getting a protective order.

In truth, you still didn’t know how you’d been granted it. One minute they’d been adamantly against it because Damon hadn’t done anything to you that you could prove, and the next, you’d been staring at a piece of paper that said if he came within a certain distance of you, he’d be arrested.

You made your way up your stairs with a small sigh, chest feeling heavy no matter how many times you exhaled. You glanced over your shoulder on your way up, gaze lingering on the front door as if some entity from the other side was willing you to open it. With a shudder, you turned back around and locked yourself in your bedroom.

The cool Virginia air was almost biting as you deposited your groceries in your car. As convinced as you were that you hated the cold, you missed it infinitely when you were away. You had longed for the comforts of home a lot, but more so when deep in the toxic cycle of your relationship. You had never longed for home more than when Damon was cornering you and intimidating you with those icy blue eyes of his.

You paused at the thought, hand on your car as one incident in particular came to mind. You struggled to swallow at the memory, almost able to feel the gentle brush of his nose against yours as he leaned in and asked if you were stupid. The words alone had been insulting, tears springing to your eyes at the sound of Damon talking to you in such a way.

However, the true hurt set in when his hand had pressed into the wall next to your head, completely trapping you. He wouldn’t let you leave, and anytime you’d moved to one side, he would be there…blocking your way, blue eyes staring you down. It was one of the first moments you’d been scared of Damon, and instead of recognizing that for the true sign that it was, you only wrote it off as a once off.

A honking horn pulled you from your thoughts, and you flinched, startled by the sound.

You glanced over to see that someone had almost hit someone else in the street, one of the two clearly not paying attention to the other. You stared at the cars for a moment more before glancing up. You were just about to slide into your own vehicle when your eyes passed over something scarily familiar. Or…

Perhaps someone was a more fitting word.

You glanced up again, but your gaze landed on nothing. There was no one standing across the street in the square even though you’d been absolutely sure of what you saw. The longer you stared, it was like you were trying to will yourself to see what you swore you just saw, but no familiar fair skinned figure appeared. No man with dark hair and hypnotizing blue eyes was in sight, and you stood there for a few seconds more before finally sinking into your car.

Your fingers were tight on the wheel the whole way to your house, and you didn’t realize just how badly you’d spooked yourself until you were parked and unloading your car. Your house wasn’t out in the middle of nowhere or outskirts of town, but the dense woods faced you, and as you carried groceries back and forth from the car to the house, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being…watched.

You stood at your door with your last groceries in hand, staring out before you with a small frown. It was late in the evening, and while the sun hadn’t disappeared completely, it was threatening to. Your town was no stranger to the odd string of animal attacks here and there, and it was that thought that forced you into the house, turning the lock shut behind you.

The silence that met you was as welcoming as it always was now.

Dinner was quick to make, and your shower was even quicker to take, towel securely wrapped around you as you stepped out of the bathroom. You faced your window when you came out, and you stopped short at the sight of a crow perched on the sill. You tightened your fingers in your towel, clutching it to you as you stared at the dark bird.

Your brows slowly furrowed with a frown.

You were working hard to remember if it was normal for crows to be out at night, and despite the fact that a singular bird was of no consequence to you, you still couldn’t shake the feeling its mere presence was…off. Pulling your gaze away, you dropped your towel and threw on a t-shirt. One deep inhale told you that it was one of Damon’s old shirts, and you were tempted to rip it off, throw it in the garbage even, but the smell of a scent you hadn’t inhaled in ages gave you pause.

How was it possible to miss someone who was so horrible to you?

Refusing to linger on what that meant, you quickly made your way downstairs to eat. You replied to a few of Bonnie’s texts, telling her you might come by tomorrow or another. It had been a good week or so since you’d last seen her, and you were feeling like a bad cousin. You weren’t of the right mind to explain your odd behavior and reclusive habits as of late. You wondered if you ever would be.

You were washing and drying your dishes when something out of the ordinary made you blink.

You lifted your eyes, startled by the sight of a familiar face faintly appearing in the glass. The sight had the plate slipping from your fingers, and you only tore your eyes away when the sound of breaking glass reached your ears. You quickly glanced down, taking in the sight of your unblemished feet before glancing back up.

The only face that stared back at you was yours.

You felt paralyzed, lips parting and chest heaving as you just…stared at the window. The more you stared, the crazier you felt, and you pressed your hand to your forehead. Your heart wouldn’t stop racing no matter how hard you tried to make it so. Your lips were parted in dismay, and you slowly dropped a hand to press it to your chest.

With trembling hands and legs, you slowly knelt down.

You were so sure… You had been certain, in fact… Damon’s face had been clear as day in your kitchen window, and yet in the blink of an eye, it was gone just as quickly. You knew that you were quite literally driving yourself insane, and you struggled to clean up your glass. Once your mess was clear, you quickly closed the kitchen window curtain, blinking back tears.

You trekked back to your room in a daze, and you made sure to lock your bedroom door once you were inside.

You thought to yourself that sleep could not find you fast enough, but sleep was not the escape you thought it would be.

Your dreams—or nightmares rather—were filled with familiar pink lips and cruel blue eyes. Damon’s mouth covered your own even when you struggled for air. His hands ran over you, and his fingers kneaded into your skin. It started out as nice as it once did, but just like your relationship, it quickly morphed into something sinister. The pink of Damon’s lips were replaced with the red of blood, the color smearing all over you as he kissed you wherever he desired.

The gentle touch of his hands became painful, sharp pains flaring in your sides and arms as he held you down. The loving roll of his hips turned into something violent and assaulting, forcing screams from your lips and tears from your eyes. No matter how much you begged, it was as if your pleas fell on deaf ears, and your only escape was in the waking world.

Darkness greeted you when you sat up in bed, eyes wide and lips parted as you gasped for breath. Despite the cold weather outside and the blasting A/C inside, your skin was dewy with sweat. You quickly kicked the covers off of you, pressing your hand to your chest and wiping your face with the other. It all felt too real, and your entire body shook—enough to shake the bed too.

Your gaze traveled over your room, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest at the shadowy outline by your door. A scream escaped your lips, and you scrambled to turn on the light, no relief filling you when no one was there. You only stared at where you could’ve sworn someone was standing, throat tightening and tears escaping.

You pulled your trembling lip between your teeth, just staring at the empty space where someone once was—had to be. You stared at the space for what felt like too long before finally pulling your gaze away, slowly bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping one arm around them. Your other hand pressed to your forehead, eyes squeezing shut as you fought against the idea that you were going crazy, but you had to be.

Damon was far away and wouldn’t be coming for you. It was so likely that he’d moved on already, long found someone else to replace you and torment. That thought was equally terrifying and comforting, and you sniffed. Once you started, you couldn’t stop, and the tears kept coming. You didn’t want to accept it…

…but you were starting to think that Damon had truly driven you insane.

“You’ve been back home for a little over a month, and I’ve seen you twice,” Bonnie told you with a tilt of her head. “You need to visit more.”

“I know,” you sighed as she walked you to the door. “Unpacking and all that…”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her you were plagued with thoughts and dreams and visions of a dark-haired tormentor. Damon was everywhere you looked, and in your efforts to avoid him in your dreams, sleep was something you ran from these days. However, he found a home out of the corner of your eye and in window reflections instead. It was haunting, and that bird…

That damn bird.

It cawed at you in the early hours of the morning, and what you’d once written off as a curious creature quickly turned into a terrifying symbol. Something about that crow reminded you of Damon, dark and unmoving and always watching. Every time you tried to shoo it away, it never moved, never even flinched. It was completely unafraid of you…

Like someone else you knew.

You had begun to dread it’s very presence, turning your back to it once settled in bed.

“Well, if you need help taking out all your things, you know I’m happy to help,” she offered with a small frown.

“I appreciate the offer, but…I’m basically done, now,” you lied.

The other girl pouted a bit but accepted your response. When she reached out to touch you, her bare hands landing on the skin of your arms, she froze. Her eyes widened as she looked up at you, fingers pressing into your arms as she swallowed, your gaze drawn to the action. You hadn’t ever seen that look on Bonnie’s face before, expression stricken and face losing all its color.

“Are you…okay…?”

You blinked at her at that, your turn to frown, now. Bonnie suddenly shook her head as if clearing her thoughts.

“I…I’m sorry, I… Grams has been up to her normal tricks again, and she…”

The look on Bonnie’s face gave you pause. You knew how kooky your great aunt could be, and the family entertained her because it was nothing more than good natured fun, but the severity in Bonnie’s voice had you seriously holding her gaze.

“What…? What is it?”

She looked disturbed.

“You just…you just feel so cold…and not like you’re cold, but like you’re…empty of all warmth.”

Your face fell.

“Of all life.”

You slowly pulled away at that, unsure of what to say and only able to settle for laughing it off. Bonnie didn’t really join in, and you ignored her weak attempts to get you to stay, to keep you from going home.

“Bonnie, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you reassured her.

Her expression wasn’t one of agreement, but she eventually let your hand go, albeit reluctantly.

“Just…call me as soon as you get home, okay?” she urged.

You promised her that you would, trying to assure her with your eyes that everything would be fine as you made your way to your car. Her wave back lacked enthusiasm, and you tried not to linger on that as you drove back home. It was dark when you parked in your driveway, and you made sure to be brisk when you got out of your car.

Like before, the imposing presence of the dense woods made your body buzz with energy—with adrenaline. Your hands shook as you struggled to find your house key. You felt clumsier than normal, heart beginning to race beneath your chest. You swore you heard a branch or something snap, and you fought the urge to look over your shoulder, only focused on the keys in your hand.

You only just touched the right one when the entire keychain slipped from your fingers.

The sound of it hitting the concrete seemed so loud, and you felt a chill pass through you at the sight of it at your feet. With a brief pause, you bent down to get it, feeling a warmth in your back that you’d only felt in the presence of one other person. With your fingers on the key, you didn’t hesitate to rise to your feet and unlock the door. A cool breeze passed by you, and the shiver to crawl up your spine somehow felt like it was from more than that.

You practically stumbled inside of your house, tripping across the threshold, and you only spun around once you were inside, shocked at the sight before you.

Only your car, your yard, and the trees greeted you.

Your hand was on the door, the other hanging limply at your side. Your yard was completely empty of anyone, most of all who you feared the most, and you swallowed. Your gaze moved from side to side, tilting your head this way and that, completely shocked with the realization that it was all in your head. Even with this truth staring you in the face, you couldn’t stop yourself from shaking.

Not even when you shut the door and pressed your back to it.

You felt too hot, blood pumping too fast in your body, and with a shuddering exhale, you forced yourself to go upstairs and shower, hoping it would solve your problems for the night.

The blaring sound of your car alarm was what forced you out of your sleep. It was hard to discern what the noise even was at first. After all, you could count the number of times on one hand someone had actually set it off. You rubbed your eyes while struggling to sit up, the annoying sound of the alarm only making you more irritated when combined with your lack of sleep.

It took nothing at all to find your keys on your nightstand and shut it off, and the night was bathed in silence once again. The silence felt so loud though, and for a moment, you almost wished your alarm would sound again. You slowly started to relax when you jumped, the sound of your car alarm filling the room once again. This time you did get up, and you stared down into the yard as you clicked the button.

Silence met you, and the yard was bathed in darkness once more. You stared down into the darkness, wondering what kind of animal could be hitting against your car with that much force. There was a sinister thought in that back of your mind that it was no animal at all, and you struggled to force it away. No. Damon would never…

Even if you wanted to be conceited for all of five minutes, logically, why would Damon follow you here? Why would he come after you? It had been a good month since you saw him before you finally came back home, relaxed in the thought that the restraining order had clued him in on how serious you really were. It made no sense for Damon to still be chasing after you, and yet…

As you stared down into your yard, casting your eyes this way and that for any sign of the man who still haunted your dreams, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was out there. No shape seemed out of place and no shadow stood out to you as unordinary, but you could not shake that feeling that he was staring right back at you…and you didn’t even know it.

Closing the curtain and backing away, you gently dropped your keys back onto the nightstand. Yu clutched your sheet just under your chin as you stared up at the ceiling, laying straight on your back and as stiff as a board. The house felt too quiet, now, and that silence that you’d grown to love only served to torment you, now.

You flinched when something hit your window hard, a familiar caw reaching your ears, and you slowly sat up. Your eyes widened a tad at the sight of that dark bird through the curtain, and you remembered finally reading something the other day that crows were not typically nocturnal. The sight of it stirred something so negative in you that you couldn’t even look at it, turning and facing the wall.

It cawed again, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Something about this just wasn’t right. You didn’t know how but all of this felt off somehow, and you squeezed your eyes tighter as the bird’s sound reached your ears again. A few tears passed through, escaping your tightly shut eyes, and you pulled your sheet over your head. Lick clockwork, that crow would caw every hour or so, and the silence in between was spent staring into the darkness instead of actually sleeping, just knowing it was there and waiting for it to sound again.

Your lack of sleep was commented on the next day.

“It’s just taking some getting used to, being back in my old house and all that,” you softly said, waving Bonnie and Caroline off.

You remembered Caroline Forbes from when you were younger, the blonde girl barely pushing the age of five then. She was just as talkative and lively as you remembered. You also remembered an additional girl to complete the trio, and Caroline excitedly hummed.

“Elena is off on a weekend trip with her boyfriend. Stefan Salvatore,” she told you, and the way she said his name told you all you needed to know about what he looked like. “I would be so jealous if I hadn’t already had the other brother. Been there, done that.”

She made a face that clued you in on how that had ended.

“It lasted all of three months before he decided he was tired of me and took off,” she scoffed. “I want no parts of that family.”

Bonnie hummed in agreement.

“Damon was way too old for you anyway, Caroline. He’s like…Y/N’s age, and that would be like her dating Jeremy.”

They both made pinched faces, disgusted with the thought, and you were inclined to agree when you suddenly frowned. You blinked, turning to look at Bonnie as the name that came out of her mouth finally registered. You felt your heart sink, and feeling your eyes on her, Bonnie turned to look at you.

“Did you say…Damon?”

“Yeah, Damon. Stefan’s brother. I don’t think you ever met him,” she added. “He came back to town a good year after you left, and he left…maybe three years ago?”

“With barely a goodbye,” Caroline mumbled, and it was easy to tell she was still rightfully bitter about the whole thing.

You told yourself that it was a coincidence, but you recalled Damon’s mysterious nature, the lack of information he ever gave up about his personal life. Although the one thing you did know was that he was from Virginia too…and you told yourself that it was nothing more than a coincidence. It had to be.

You grew quiet, Bonnie and Caroline none the wiser to your silent disposition. You took a sip of your drink, glancing around The Grill. It was a Friday night, and it was packed like any other Friday night. Adults and teenagers alike were hanging out at the one hot spot in town, and when your gaze glided over the bar, a familiar pair of blue eyes connected with yours.

You bumped Bonnie when you jumped, and you were quick to turn and apologize to her after your drink spilled some. She didn’t take offense, seemingly more concerned for you than anything else, and you assured her you were fine, heart racing as you turned back towards the bar. Your eyes passed up and down it at least a few times, but Damon was nowhere in sight, and you set your drink down.

You pressed your hand to your forehead, wondering if you had too much to drink. You knew that wasn’t true. You’d barely had two glasses of beer, and you closed your eyes. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, breathing in through your mouth and exhaling through your nose. You only opened your eyes when Bonnie touched your arm, Caroline now quiet too.

“I think I’m gonna head home,” you suddenly said, standing and grabbing your purse.

“Oh, okay.”

You hated the disappointment you heard in Bonnie’s voice as you searched your purse for some cash.

“I’m just not feeling the best. I shouldn’t have come, but I really wanted to see you guys,” you honestly told her.

Bonnie smiled at that.

“You really shouldn’t have. You can always see us. You need to be getting more rest,” she advised.

You agreed, throwing some cash on the table.

“By the way, Grams is going to make you more of those cookies she always used to send you. I told her that you ran out weeks ago, and she freaked. Demanded to know why I hadn’t told her sooner,” she chuckled.

“Ooh is that like some witchy thing?” Caroline wondered, wiggling her fingers.

You and Bonnie rolled your eyes, loathe to admit how right Caroline was.

“She swears that they protect Y/N and brought her good luck while she was away,” the brunette told her.

“I don’t have the heart to tell her she should probably find a new recipe,” you mumbled with a shake of your head.

If they knew the things you’d been through with Damon, they’d know that those cookies hadn’t done a thing to help you. You waved them both goodbye, keys in hand as you walked out the door. You learned your lesson from last time, keeping the one you needed directly between your fingers to save less time. However, smart thinking would never trump clumsiness, and you cursed when your keys hit the pavement. You were thankful that you were just at your door though, bending down to pick them up…

When another hand beat you to it.

It startled you, and a nervous thank you was just on the tip of your lips…when you lifted your eyes.

Damon was even prettier than you remembered. Skin perfect and unblemished, eyes a crystalline blue that didn’t look real, and hair as dark as the night sky behind him. You thought you were imagining things at first, as you had been for a good month, now, and you slowly forced yourself to stand. You couldn’t find any words to say, just staring at him and trying to figure out if this was another trick of your mind. The faint noise of the people standing outside The Grill just across the street faded into the background as he moved…and handed you your keys.

Your lips parted, a gasp escaping when his fingers brushed against your skin as he laid them in your palm. You stared down at them for a few seconds before lifting your gaze again, heart stuttering and skipping beats as it registered within your mind. He was real, he was really here in Mystic Falls, and you couldn’t even decide on what to feel.

Damon’s blue eyes fell to your chest, right where your heart was as if he could hear it, and you blinked.

“Damon.”

You almost whispered his name, too afraid to say it too loudly.

“You… I have a restraining order,” you finally remembered, frowning at him.

He didn’t respond at first, merely tilting his head to the side as he drank you in. You’d grown to hate that gesture, the act nothing more than an indication of the condescending thoughts running rampant in his mind. When he looked at you like he was looking at you now, it used to make you feel cute.

Now, it just made you feel stupid.

“How does it feel to be back home?”

He completely ignored you, and you clenched your keys in your hand.

“To catch up with the family and the friends,” he drawled, doing that thing with his eyes that made your heart jump. “Unpacking in that big ole house by your lonesome?”

Your frown deepened at his words.

“You know…”

He leaned over, resting his arm on the top of your car, propping his head up with his hand.

“When you broke up with me, I didn’t quite believe you,” he admitted.

“I know,” you whispered, recalling the day he’d shown up on your doorstep like nothing happened.

“…but then the restraining order, that seemed a little more serious.”

You looked around, glancing over your shoulder at The Grill, willing someone—anyone—to just glance over.

“…and the cops…they were never going to take you seriously. Why would they…?”

Making the decision not to hear another word of this, you moved to unlock your door. You opened it for all of two seconds before Damon was pressing his hand against it, shutting it. He was so close, and when you looked up, his lips were so close to yours.

“…but I was in a…let’s say…fun mood.”

You bit your lip when he slid his entire body to rest against your door, arms crossed over his chest as he regarded you.

“I decided to convince them to go ahead with it,” he told you, face even as he stared you down. “I just wanted to see what you’d do.”

You blinked at his words, taken aback with confusion. Damon had changed their minds…? Why would he do that? How did that even work? He suddenly sighed, glancing up towards the sky.

“I never imagined you’d actually leave,” he grumbled, pouting.

You reached your hand into your purse, your fingers just grazing your phone when the whole bag was snatched away. The only thing that remained were the keys in your hand, and your heart dropped to your stomach when Damon sighed, running his hand through his dark strands. You heard your purse land somewhere behind him, and the glint in his eyes told you just how angry he was.

It was not an unfamiliar sight.

“Damon…”

You took a step back, but he was faster, his hands coming up to gently cup your face. You hadn’t realized you started crying until his thumbs brushed your tears away. He gently shushed you, but there was nothing soothing about it. It was often a sound you heard just before his fingers harshly dug into your jaw.

“You need to leave…before I call the police,” you choked out.

He actually laughed.

The sound was so disheartening, and it sounded genuine, like the thought actually tickled him. Like the idea was so preposterous, the idea that they could do anything to him, at all. The sound was so convincing that you almost believed it yourself, almost believed that he really was untouchable.

“…and what are they going to do? Hmm?”

His hand tightened on your jaw, and you winced. His face wasn’t so pretty, now, faint veins appearing under his eyes just before they disappeared as quickly as they came. The sight stumped you, and you stared at him through stricken eyes.

“Hey, is everything alright?”

Relief filled you at the sound of the new voice, and Damon’s expression evened out, just as pretty as before. He huffed, and you watched him roll his eyes just before turning to face the newcomer behind him. You didn’t hesitate to unlock your car, sliding into it and locking the door just as Damon’s hand hit the window. You froze at the crack that now adorned it, looking at Damon through the glass with an expression you couldn’t even name.

The sound of your name reached your ears as he called your name, his mockingly chipper tone barely able to hide the malice beneath it. You didn’t look back as you drove away, hurrying to beat him to your house. His words were stuck in your mind, and you were certain, now that he actually had been stalking you. You weren’t sure how that related to any of the other stuff, convinced he’d still managed to drive you mad, but Damon most definitely had been to your house.

You car was barely parked and turned off good before you were hopping out, sprinting to the door. Light flooded your home when you flipped the switch, and without a cell phone, you were forced to rely on the landline. It took you a good seven seconds to realize that you’d heard no dial tone when you picked it up, and that pressing any buttons was going to do no good.

Someone had cut the phone line.

The phone clattered to the floor as the realization hit you, and no second thoughts were needed to know who did it. The room swayed a bit, and you just knew you were going to be sick any moment now. The confirmation that Damon had in fact been watching you brought you no sense of satisfaction for not actually being crazy. In fact, you wished you’d just made it all up in your head. At least then you wouldn’t have to deal with the harsh knocks on your door.

The scream you let out bounced off of the walls, and you clutched your stomach as you fought to hold in your sobs.

The faint sound of your name reached your ears in the living room.

“I really hate that it had to come to this, you know I do…”

You slowly looked up, tearful gaze resting on the front door.

“…but you should probably come and talk to me face to face…before I do something…”

There was a slight pause, and you could almost imagine that mirthful smirk adorning his lips.

“…drastic.”

His tone gave you pause, and you felt at war with yourself. Logically, you would have to leave your house at some point. You did not think you’d be able to wait him out, but something in you screamed at you to. Something in you was convinced that you could, but a part of you was telling you that if he’d come all this way, followed you all the way back to both yours and his hometown, there was no telling the lengths he’d go to. You’d watched enough Dateline, enough Investigation Discovery, and despite the fact that you didn’t ever want to think he’d be that bad, something in you wondered if you’d wake up to the smell of smoke and burning flames one night.

Slowly approaching the door, you heard Damon chuckle, like he could perfectly hear your footsteps.

“Come on, baby,” he softly said. “I don’t have all night.”

It took all of your strength to unlock and open the door, and when you did…

You almost immediately regretted it.

You didn’t recognize the woman he had in his arms, only knew that she was crying and clearly in distress. You looked between them before resting your gaze on Damon, staring at him as if he were crazy. Your lips parted in shock, and your gaze fell back to his hand, the one he had around her neck.

“Damon…what are you doing…?” you slowly asked him, lifting your hands just as slow as if trying to stall whatever he was about to do.

“I’m doing what you made me do.”

His nostrils flared as he stared you down, blaming you for his actions, and a choked gasp escaped you.

“She-.”

“She’s going to die if you don’t step outside, right now.”

He said it so suddenly, so evenly, that you felt no other option than to believe him. Your frown deepened as you searched his eyes for some remorse, a hint of a joke, some leniency there that would give way if you pushed hard enough, but you saw none of that. Damon’s eyes had never looked so cold, and you knew then that he was entirely serious.

“Damon,” you choked out.

“Now,” was his only response, tone clipped as the girl—no older than you—cried in his arms.

You felt bad. This—whatever this was—was between the two of you, and Damon had dragged an innocent woman into it. You moved, and once one of your feet was over the threshold, a tight grip on your neck completely obstructed your breathing. On instinct, you reached up to grip his arm, panicked.

His blue gaze was all you could see, and you blinked back tears as he spoke.

“You made me do this.”

He didn’t give you time to linger on that before he pulled the other girl closer, having never let her go before grabbing you with his free hand.

You were completely frozen in shock as you watched him lean in and savagely bite her neck. The screams she let out were the kind to fill your nightmares, and you couldn’t believe what you were witnessing. You felt like you were stuck in an endless nightmare, unable to pull your eyes away from the sight of his violent assault, and unable to close your ears to the sounds of her screams, her struggle, and his teeth in her neck.

In her panic, the strange woman reached out to grip your arm, and the longer he bit her—fed from her—the weaker her grip became. Tears sprung to your eyes at the feel of her hand loosening on you, and they spilled over altogether when her hand finally let you go, falling at her side. You knew then that she was dead even if Damon hadn’t carelessly dropped her as proof.

You couldn’t breathe when he turned his gaze back to you.

Like before, those veins were under his eyes, but they were more prominent now, more terrifying to look at. His lips were completely covered in blood, some even smearing across his chin, and despite the new reality you were faced with, you still couldn’t believe it. You only gave some indication that you were still coherent when his lips grazed your cheek, a shuddering gasp leaving you.

“I missed you…you know that?” he murmured against your skin.

He took a step forward…and then another and then another, forcing you back with every one. His hand was still tight on your neck, and the other slowly snaked around your waist, pulling you closer. Damon didn’t stop until you were right in front of your door, and you looked at him like less than a stranger—like a monster straight out of every horror you’d been able to get your hands on.

You couldn’t move as he leaned in, bloody lips pressing against your cheek.

“Now, that those God-awful cookies—and everything in them—are out of your system for good…”

You didn’t understand what that had to do with anything, but soon, you didn’t understand nor comprehend anything.

Damon’s pupils were all that you could focus on, even in the darkness, and as they expanded, they were all that seemed to fill your vision. You felt yourself relaxing, shoulders drooping as the calmest feeling washed over you. Damon’s hand rubbed circles into your lower back, and the hand on your neck loosened some, his thumb smearing blood along your chin.

“Invite me in.”

How insane.

Why on earth would you ever invite him into your home? That was what you thought anyway, but the words that left your mouth were entirely different. You felt your lips move, and you heard your voice as you did what he said, and it was only when the warmth of your home replaced the cold Virginia air of outside did Damon let you go.

In doing so, his gaze broke away from yours, and you stumbled back in both shock and confusion.

Why did you do that? How did he make you do that? You could only back away from him as he slowly walked about the room, gaze roaming over the inside of your house with a hum.

“Cute,” he mused, and more tears fell. “So…homely. I can just imagine you baking in the kitchen.”

He moved his hands about with a chuckle and feeling both out of control and like you finally had control for the first time in moments, you sprinted for the door. In the blink of an eye, Damon’s arms were wrapped around you, and the sight of him drinking from that girl would never compare to the feeling, you supposed.

It was hard to make a sound when his teeth sank into your skin, and you reached back, desperately trying to pull him away to no avail. Damon’s arms were so tight around you, painfully, and you gasped when he backed up, pulling you with him. You couldn’t stop crying, and as your mind still fought to process just what he was, it hit you then that maybe you hadn’t been going insane.

Maybe he had been messing with your head somehow, watching you from the trees, showing up at odd places before disappearing. Your feet kicked at the feel of him pulling from you, and you could feel yourself growing weaker by the second. As if he could feel it too, Damon suddenly let you go, and you collapsed at his feet.

You shakily reached up to touch your neck, unsurprised by what you felt, and you failed to push yourself onto your knees.

“We were so good together…no…?”

You tried to bite back a sob, but it was no use. Damon tsk’d at the sound, and soon you were turned over to face him. He looked down at you like you were a misbehaving child, head tilted and lips pursed.

“You needed some time. I get that,” he nodded. “I even gave you that…”

You watched him kneel down, feeling too weak to even attempt to move, and your heart skipped a beat as you watched him peel off his jacket. He reached out to gently drag a finger down the side of your face, lingering at your lips.

“…but you don’t leave me. You don’t runaway from, and you definitely don’t keep me out.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips over yours before kissing you fully. You pushed at his chest, but it was a weak attempt, and you were unsurprised when Damon batted your hand away, pulling at your clothes with ease. A few tears escaped, running past your ears, and you could only arch up into his mouth when he bit your stomach.

A humming sound escaped him, and a warm feeling filled you.

You didn’t want to feel that, and with every article of clothing Damon got rid of, he marked the area with his teeth. When he kissed you again, his bare chest touched yours, and you felt powerless to stop what was happening. You’d done everything right. You’d broken up with, even went to the police when he didn’t respect your boundaries, and to real put the nail in the coffin, you moved away. You came back home and got far away from Damon.

…but what was far when the equation involved a vampire?

As Damon pushed himself into you with a low groan, you wondered how you had missed it. He obviously fed while you were together, he wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t, and considering how little human life clearly meant to him, you had to assume that Damon wasn’t of the…sympathetic variety. You tried to recall if anyone had gone missing back in the town where campus was, but it was hard to focus with Damon thrusting into you.

His face was pressed into the crook of your neck, and your hips involuntarily rose to meet his with every movement. Blood was still on his mouth when he pulled away, and when you reached up to push at his chest, Damon reached up to grab your hand. He twisted his fingers with your own before roughly pinning your hand down.

“What was the plan?” he wondered, his other hand finding a home on your neck. “Were you going to forget about me…? Move on?”

He said it like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard, and more tears spilled over. The mere thought seemed to have upset him, and Damon leaned back down to bite into your chest. You hissed at the feel clenching around him, but Damon paid you no mind. He was too lost in the taste of you.

Thinking back on the memories of your tumultuous relationship, it scared you all the more to think of just what you’d been up against, all the while none the wiser.

Damon’s hips came down against yours with vigor, cock sliding in and out of you and making you shudder. The feel of him on top of you and in you brought you back to the happy days of your relationship, but the blood on his face and the tight grip on your neck only reminded you of what it had become.

Damon wouldn’t take his eyes off of you, staring down at you with those blue eyes, and when yours met his, life before, you felt your body relax as your vision was only filled with his widening pupils. You felt completely at his mercy, and you heard Damon hum.

“I want you to kiss me…like you kissed me on our first date.”

His words sparked the memory, and you felt a smile ghost along your lips as you recalled the excitedness in your as you’d pressed your lips against his. You’d been so bold then, so much like yourself before Damon had scared you into submission.

Overcome with the desire to do just that, you craned your head up to fiercely press your lips against his. Damon moaned into the kiss, and when he let your hand go, you threw your arms around his neck just as you had that night. Damon hummed against your lips, and you gasped against his at a particularly hard thrust. Even though you wanted to, you couldn’t stop kissing him.

You felt out of control of your own body, and tears kissed your eyes.

Your back slid along the floor with every snap of his hips, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the otherwise quiet room. You felt Damon’s hand twist at the root of your hair, yanking your head back and away from him, and you only got a brief glimpse of the veins in his face before his teeth were sinking into your neck again. The feel of his teeth and cock in you were threatening to send you over the edge, too overwhelming to even focus on.

When Damon’s teeth left you, you shuddered, and he hummed. You felt his fingers smoothing along your face, and when he whispered for you to look at him, too afraid to do otherwise, you did. Tears were still skipping down your cheeks, and Damon ran his blue eyes over you, drinking you in with a sigh. He looked disappointed, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.

When his eyes held your gaze again, your lips parted, and another tear escaped at the hypnotizing words that gripped you.

“Do not leave me ever again…”

You swallowed, but you didn’t blink.

“You are mine, and if you even try to, I will kill your loved ones one by one, starting with that meddling family of yours.”

Your lips trembled.

“Nod if you understand.”

You gave him a slow nod, and a cruel smile fell over his lips. He fingered your chin, just looking at you with that small smile.

“Tell me you love me,” he murmured, and hit with the overwhelming urge to do just that…

You did.

#damon salvatore x reader #dark!damon salvatore #tvd #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries imagine #damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore fanfiction #tvd fanfiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction

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londonharrington · 1 year

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besties | lando norris x fem!reader

in which they were bestfriends until they weren't

notes: i love the childhood friends to lovers trope 🥹🥹

yourusername

Liked by landonorris and 74,729 others

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tagged: landonorris

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Liked by yourusername and 493,820 others

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danielricciardo Now, what if you kiss?

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yourusername added a story

caption: miss you. love you.

yourusername added a story

caption: good to be home

yourusername

Liked by landonorris and 183,028 others

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tagged: landonorris

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A/N: if u guys have any requests, do send them in!! <3

#f1 ig au #f1 instagram au #f1 rpf #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #lando norris instagram au #lando norris insta au #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #formula 1 instagram au #formula 1 imagine

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daycourtofficial · 4 months

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Snapshots of Time

Summary: your relationship with Azriel, as shown through your relationship with Cassian.

Author’s note: this is based on this incredible request. Honestly I could do this forever I’m OBSESSED with Cassian I need to be his best friend like now.

The hulking Illyrian general looked down at the woman in front of him, examining her outstretched hand. Azriel stood behind her, watching Cassian with curious eyes.

No one knew how this was going to go, what to expect. Azriel never brought girls home, let alone asking Cassian to meet one of them. The moment clear in his mind, as Azriel walked into the dining room to eat breakfast with Cassian.

The shadowsinger sat down, setting his morning coffee, eggs, and bacon in front of him. Cassian looked at him, nodding in greeting as he shoveled some cantaloupe into his mouth.

His brother spoke first, “are you doing anything after lunch?”

Cassian thought about his day, he had dinner plans, but nothing for the afternoon. He shakes his head no, his mouth still full of cantaloupe.

“Good,” his brother tells him, “I want you to meet someone.” Cassian stops chewing, surprised at this. “You want me to meet someone?” Is what he tried to say, but with the cantaloupe blocking his throat, it came out more like, “boo bant me bo beat bomeone?”

Despite the confusing question, Azriel knew what his brother meant and sighed. “Yes, I’ve been… seeing someone.”

His tone conveys he doesn’t want this conversation to continue, but Cassian will not let him get away without a few answers. “You’ve been seeing someone?”

“Yes,” Azriel states, “and she wants to meet you.”

Cassian finally swallows the hunk of cantaloupe, “so it’s a her?” He asks, waggling his eyebrows. Azriel swallows his bite of eggs, disdain coating his voice. “If you can’t handle it-“

Cassian cuts him off, “Oh, I can handle it, brother. I assure you.”

He looked again at the lady in front of him, a smile adorning her face, making her look so soft, so warm.

He can see why she has Azriel wrapped around her finger - she’s been in front of Cassian for all of thirty seconds, telling him her name and offering her hand to shake, and he already finds her incredibly endearing.

But he also wants to give both of them a hard time. As nice as she may look, this is serious for his brother. His brother, who has always felt so undeserving of love, bringing someone to meet his family.

Well, to just meet Cassian. Azriel figured slow introductions was the best way to go about this, and he started with Cassian. A decision Cassian can tell Azriel is starting to regret.

“Ah,” he takes your hand, giving you a bone crushing handshake. You take it like a champ, he notes, as he calls you by the wrong name. It’s close to your own name, but not exact.

You correct him, prompting him to call you a different, incorrect name. He looks at you expectantly, the eye contact you share telling Cassian that you know exactly what he’s doing. And you don’t back down.

“That’s right, Calliope.” You respond, “nice to meet you.” You smile at him, a sweet smile that he sees through.

Wonderful.

Azriel had asked Cassian if it would be okay if he brought you to training. It was something you seemed interested in and, Azriel admits to Cass, if things continue he’d prefer you to have some knowledge of defending yourself.

Cassian had seen you a time or two since your first introduction, the two of you continuing to use incorrect names for each other. He agreed to let you come, as long as he could help your training.

You showed up to training the next morning, a teasing smirk making it’s way to Cassian’s face as you approach.

“Behave,” Azriel warns his brother, as he approaches you. You smile as he gets closer, standing on your toes to kiss him quickly.

Cassian’s desire to tease you both falters for a second, wanting nothing more than to make a comment about the red finding its way up Az’s neck, heating his cheeks. The general goes to say something, stopping as he watches the way you look at his brother. Your eyes show such kindness, such warmth, even from yards away.

You walk up, greeting Cassian as you come up to him. “Good morning, Cassandra.” He chuckles, throwing an incorrect name back at you. “You ready to learn?”

You beam, “yeah! Hopefully you’re a good teacher - maybe I’ll surpass you and take your job.”

You start shadow boxing around him, pretending to hit him. Cassian laughs at you, as Azriel looks at you fondly, your back turned to him.

The two of them lead you through a variety of stretches, they teach you how to throw a punch, and where to strike an opponent for the most impact.

“Can I spar with you?” You ask Cassian, both of the males eyebrows shooting up at your request. “I’d ask Azriel, but I don’t want to ruin his pretty face,” you say, cupping his face in your hands.

Cassian grumbles as you two walk towards the clearing, “I’m pretty too…”

You laugh, as he turns to face you. “Okay, sunshine, let’s spar.”

You two circle each other, and Azriel watches from the sidelines in both amusement and to ensure you don’t get hurt. Cassian throws a lazy punch at you, which you block flawlessly, the shock etching his face. You throw a piss poor punch on purpose, wanting him to lower his guard. He blocks your punch easily, and you two continue in this half-assed dance for a few minutes, until you decide to go all out.

You fake a left jab, causing Cassian to move to defend his left side, leaving the right side of his face open for your fist to collide with.

The impact creates a bone breaking sound that doesn’t come from your fingers. Azriel sucks in a breath, running towards the two of you as Cassian falls to the ground.

He looks up at you, the blood dripping down his face. “Where’d you learn that, sunshine?” He laughs, spitting blood out in the ground.

“I have three older brothers,” you smile down at him. “They taught me how to throw a punch.”

You offer a hand, and he takes it, laughing as you help him up.

Cassian’s wings were flapping so hard, so fast. He was exhausted, the events of the day catching up to him. Determination to get to you was keeping him moving.

He vaguely knew where you lived, Azriel mentioning stopping by to see you after going to a bakery. He lands in front of the bakery, and does the only things he knows how to: he starts knocking on doors.

Various Velaris citizens open their doors, ready to be angry at whoever is pounding on their door in the dead of night, until they see the High Lord’s General, asking if anyone with your name or your description lives there or if they know you. Eventually he reaches a door where the woman inside tells him that you live a few doors down, with the green door and flowers on your doorstep.

He approaches the door, knocking until you open the door, only allowing a small sliver to see who is there. “Cassian?” You ask, opening the door wider. He can tell he woke you up, due to your messy hair and sapphire blue nightgown.

You wake up at the realization of Cassian being at your door, immediately asking him if Azriel’s okay. Cassian shakes his head, asking if you want to come see him. You ask how dire it is, and he says you have a moment to change into actual clothes. You find some sweatpants and a shirt Azriel had left at your place, and allow his brother to scoop you into his arms as you two fly towards the House of Wind.

The flight is silent, both of your anxieties practically palpable through the air. You two eventually land, Cassian leading you directly to Azriel’s chambers.

You had been a frequent visitor to Az’s room in the other residences, but you’d only been in the House of Wind once. You’re thankful for Cassian’s lead, following close behind him.

You wind through the halls until Cassian stops in front of a door, knocking softly. He waits a moment, then enters, no response from the other side. He opens the door and Rhys is present, turning to look at the both of you as you enter the room.

You take in Azriel’s form on the bed. He’s asleep, you hope, watching his chest, watching it rise and fall slowly. You match your breathing with his, the deep breaths calming you, the only way Azriel can soothe you right now.

“How- uh- how bad is it?” You ask, unable to look away from his form on the bed. You approach slowly, taking in the injuries as you get closer. You’re a few feet away and you can see the deep bruising on his face, his chest, his arms. You shutter, his knuckles covered in blood.

Rhys grabs your shoulders softly, “he’s going to be okay, sore, but okay. He was asking for you, though.”

You nod, Azriel’s request warming your heart a bit. He always came to you after missions to help bandage his wounds. You smile a bit at the fact that whatever the hell happened to him out there didn’t stop him from wanting to continue that tradition.

Cassian is the first to move, as he moves two chairs to sit next to Azriel’s bed. He gestures for you to sit in one of them, as he takes up residence in the other one.

Rhys rubs your shoulders softly as he asks, “do you want some tea? Water? Anything?”

You clear your throat, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Some tea would be nice, thanks.”

Azriel woke up feeling incredibly groggy and like he had fallen from a balcony. He heard laughing, and he kept his eyes closed to figure out what was happening near him.

The room smelled like his room, the sheets felt like his, and he almost snapped his eyes open at your laugh.

No, not just your laugh, but the loud boisterous laugh of Cassian and the soft amused laugh of Rhys.

The three of you were talking about him.

“The morning he told me he wanted us to meet, he was shaking like a wet dog,” Rhys said, amusement lacing his tone.

“No hr wasn’t,” you say, shock in your voice. “Oh, yes,” Rhys replies, shifting in his seat. “He’s never brought anyone home before, and he’s never talked about anyone before.”

Cassian snorts, “I almost caught him with someone a century ago. I swear I heard something, but when I came in poof they were gone.”

You laugh, the sound filling Azriel’s chest with warmth. “He had told me that you two wanted to meet me!”

Rhys laughs, “he told us you wanted to meet us!”

You all laugh, as Azriel stirs slightly. He opened his eyes to find Rhys in a chair on his right, with you and Cassian taking up two chairs on his left.

“Don’t listen to anything they say,” Azriel rasps, coughing from how dry his throat was. “They’re both liars.”

Azriel closed his eyes again, but he felt your hand wrap around his, and he could see your face in his mind. Your hand squeezed his, and despite the injuries, he couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi Azzy,” Cassian responds, earning a groan from Azriel.

You want to touch his face, but you’re worried you’ll hurt him.

“Well, now that you’re awake, we’ll see ourselves out,” Rhysand told him, offering him a wink as his brothers get up and begin moving to the door.

“A woman’s love is the best medicine,” Cassian says.

“You assholes aren’t even going to see how I am? After staying all night?”

Cassian laughs, “oh, we didn’t stay here out of concern over you. We stayed to keep her company.”

Looking at where you and the general stood, you regretted the events leading you here. “I’m just saying he’d love this little black number.”

Cassian currently had an arm draped around a mannequin, wearing the least amount of fabric possible.

“Cassian,” you hiss, embarassment leaking out of you, “why are we here?”

“You asked for help for a gift - this is my help!” He says, gesturing broadly around the lingerie shop. You hiss at him, “this isn’t what I had in mind-“

A chipper voice cuts you off, “good morning! How are you two today?” You turn to find a pretty shopkeeper looking at you and Cassian, her eyes lingerinf on his biceps wrapped around the mannequin. You swear you see him flex a little.

Cassian looks at you with a shit-eating grin as he tells her, “great! I’m helping her find a gift for my brother.”

She looks between you two, confusion on her face. “Is it for him to wear? We have a men’s section-“

“No, no,” Cassian says,”I’ll come back another day to check out that section. We’re looking for something for her, preferably in black or blue.”

He smiles at the shop associate, and she blushes at his attention. He winks at her, as she turns around to find you some options.

“Cassian, I’d prefer it if you weren’t aware of my lingerie choices.”

He raises his hands up, “I can close my eyes if that’ll make you feel better.” He places his hands over his eyes, “just guide me around the store, please, so I don’t fondle any mannequins.”

“I know something you don’t know,” Cassian coos at you, swaggering into the room. You’re seated in the library, enjoying a nice book by the fire. At least, you were.

“Hi Cass,” you say, taking a sip of your wine. He plops down next to you, stretching his arm behind you on the couch. You almost recoil at his smell, clearly coming in straight from training or fighting or something.

“Ugh, Cass, can you shower before showing up? You have a smell.” You fake gag at him.

He waggles his eyebrows, “some call it a musk,” he replies, “and I know you like it when Azzie is all sweaty after training.”

You roll your eyes, moving a little away from him. “Yes, but he’s hot. It’s different.”

He gawks at you. “It’s not different!” He insists, “I’m hot!”

You sigh, accepting the turn in conversation. “Yes, but not when you smell like that.”

He waggles his eyebrows, “so you do think I’m hot?” You slap him across the chest. “Yes, you’re a very handsome boy. Now what did you know that I don’t?”

Cassian pauses, trying to remember why he came in here in the first place. Then he remembers, smiling at you. He leaned back, placing his hands together on his stomach.

“Ah, yes. I know something you don’t know.”

You huff, “yes Cassian, and I know plenty that you don’t know.”

“Yes but my knowledge is about a certain pretty shadowsinger.”

You eye him, his grin spanning his whole face. “What do you know?”

Cassian looks at his hands, twiddling his thumbs. “What’s it worth to you?”

You push him, “tell me.”

“What’s it worth?”

“Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

“Value?”

You sigh, “I’ll set you up with my friend Varia.”

He lifts an eyebrow, “promise?”

“If your information is valuable enough.”

“Oh I can guarantee it.”

“Then we have a deal. What do you know?”

Cassian looks around the room, to ensure you’re truly alone, including the presence of any nosey shadows. Once he feels confident you’re truly alone, he tells you, “I saw him in a jewelry store today.”

You pause, “okay?”

“And your birthday isn’t for six months, solstice was two months ago, your anniversary is in 8 months, so…”

He motions his hands, hoping you’ll get what he’s insinuating.

“He’s preparing?” You ask. The general rolls his eyes. He grabs both of your arms, shaking you as he tells you, “he was looking at rings!”

You gasp, “no you did not! Did you see any? What did they look like? Do you think they’d fit my fingers?”

Cassian rolled his eyes, “well he wasn’t shopping at Jewelry for Giants”

You hit him in the chest with a pillow. “No, I didn’t see any of them, but he was there for quite a while. Pretty sure the shop assistant showed him everything he had in the store.”

You squeal, launching yourself onto Cassian in a hug. “This better be real, valid intel Cassian or I swear I’ll cut off your testicles and feed them to Bryaxis.”

He eventually leaves, having had enough of your squealing and questions about rings, opting for a glass of milk before bed. As he’s in the kitchen pouring a glass he hears from behind him, “Cassian I know you saw me.”

He flinches, but just barely, causing the shadowsinger to smile just a touch. “Saw you where?”

Azriel sighed, “stop playing dumb with me Cassian, you saw me at Winston’s Jewelry.”

Cassian’s surprised at Azriel’s forwardness, his lack of dancing around subjects a skill Cassian wishes he shared. “Yes, I did. So? I assumed you were buying a birthday gift.”

His brother doesn’t buy the fib. “You know exactly what I was looking for in that store.”

“Mm, jewelry?”

Azriel closes his eyes, counting to ten, to keep himself from leaping across the kitchen and stabbing his brother. He keeps his eyes closed as he says, “I bought a ring.”

“This is so sudden, brother, I mean how could I say yes when we haven’t even spent a night together?”

Azriel rubs the bridge of his nose, annoyance still there from the moment he saw Cassian watching him. “Not for you, for her.” He pauses and Cassian doesn’t try to fill it, waiting for Azriel to continue.

Azriel sighs, letting the truth fill the room. “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

Cassian cheers in delight, excitement coursing through him.

“How are you going to do it? A bunch of flowers everywhere? Oh, oh, put the ring on your cock and -“

Azriel balks at Cassian, the headache coming back. He goes to walk away, but stops. “Just - don’t tell her you saw me. Please?”

Cassian pales, but agrees, and watches his brother head towards his room. Once he hears the click of his door, he races across the house to the library, where you’re still seated.

“Don’t-“ he pants, “mention anything about rings.” He pants again, surprisingly winded. “I didn’t tell you anything.” He turns to walk away, but he hears you say, “okay?” before he walks out.

You were spreading olive oil across the grape tomatoes as you heard your door open. You didn’t hear movement as your husband walked into the kitchen, your back turned to him.

“You’re home early,” you say, stirring the gnocchi. “How was your day, sweets?”

“It was fine, darling,” you hear Cassian respond, followed by a chair dragging across your floor as he plops down, spreading his legs wide, taking up a considerable amount of space.

You turned around, expecting a different Illyrian in your kitchen, a quick retort on your tongue as you look down and see his shoes. “Cassian!” You scold, “I’ve told you to take off your muddy boots before you come in.”

You walk over to him, flicking him in the ear. He rubs it softly, muttering about something. “Sorry, dear,” he says, emphasizing the term of endearment, as he starts unlacing his shoes.

You begin walking back to continue your cooking. “I thought you were my husband,” you shout to him as he walks back through your living room, the door softly opening. “Well, I’m flattered sweetheart, I thought we could have had something special, too, but my rascal of a brother got you first.”

You roll your eyes at him, stirring your noodles, “We never would have worked out, Cass. We’re both too chipper, we need to share our happiness with the grumps of the world.”

Cassian snorted, opening your fridge to grab a beer, “no we wouldn’t have worked out because Azriel would have murdered me if I made a move.”

He opens his beer bottle with his teeth, chuckling.

You laugh, cutting up your cooked chicken to mix it back into the pasta. “Oh what could have been, Cass. The world wouldn’t have been able to handle us together.”

“I know I certainly couldn’t.”

You smile, feeling your husband ghost a kiss to your cheek. He wraps his arms around you, basking in your scent before he goes to get his own beer.

Cassian rolls his eyes, “you would have skulked for hundreds of years, brother.” Your eyebrows raise, “you think we would have been together for centuries?”

“Oh yeah,” Cassian nods, putting his beer down on the table. “If not out of love, out of spite.” He gives Azriel a little smirk, and Azriel slaps the back of his head.

“Why are you here, Cass, other than to flirt with my wife?” He asks, taking his usual seat at the table.

“Yeah, Cass, didn’t you have a date tonight?” You ask, placing the pan in the oven and setting a timer. Azriel stills at your question. His brother did have a date tonight, one that should have started two hours ago.

You both reach the same conclusion as you say, “oh, Cass,” turning around to look at him. “What happened?”

He shrugs, starting to rip the label off his bottle to occupy himself. “She just.. wasn’t right.” He sighs, a contemplative look overcoming his features. “I just want something real. Not a few nights, not a few months. Something real. Like you two.”

Cassian’s face reddens, his admission in the air. He’s about to apologize, but you wrap your arms around his head, placing your own on top of his.

“You deserve someone incredible, Cass. Someone that isn’t me.” He laughs, patting your arms. “I’m sorry she didn’t work out. But you’re free to stay for dinner tonight, if you want. I’m making pesto chicken gnocchi.”

Cassian sighs, deflating in your arms a bit, “I don’t want to impose-“

Azriel snorts, “yes you do. Go ahead, Cassian. Impose. We’re happy to let you.” Cassian smiles, a real, genuine smile. Most nights the loneliness doesn’t get to him, but this is a rare night for vulnerability, and as the three of you gather around the table, gossiping about the girl Rhys was under the mountain with and how she was now at the Moonstone Palace with Rhys, Cassian feels his friends help carry his burden.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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heartpascal · 1 year

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lock it when you leave

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader + tommy miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: part three of if the door wasn’t shut — tensions rise in jackson, leaving you scrambling to find your place.

▹ — a/n: guys i’m not all that happy with this part!!! it feels kinda … filler-y. but we are getting somewhere!!! i have ideas for part 4 :’) let me know what you guys think!! (if you guys wanna be tagged in future parts let me know)

▹ — warnings: angst, guns, fire, murder, there’s a baby in this one, blood, arguments, infected + raiders, father figure miller bros

▹ — tags: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @pedropascalsrealgf @faceache111 @livvy256 @dizzyforyou @hiphopdancer101universe @aphrcdites @axionn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @coolchick333 @hufflepuffriver @kobenio @dorothleah @moonygremlin @tomorrowseverything @martinsmomo @teenagetragediesforeveryone @dksjskx @inkiqayo @fariylixie0915 @jbcalway @ipadkidsworld @coldwcter @rhyanna6012 @gimalo135 @kimpineeeeeeee @jerseygirllll @dreamerglassesgirl @g0bble @firsttimewriter92 @coldheartedmar @cheneyq @dilfsaremyfavourite @sakurarukas @brilliantopposite187 @ilovemydinoboi @chiogarza @lockleywife @famoussuitcasepiebagel-blog @doctorliamsr @dustyroper28 @daffodil0darling @marchstrilogy @cappucinolia @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr @slut4timotheechalamet

masterlist | PART ONE | PART TWO

howl’s song association!

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Four months ago, when the wound was still fresh, you never would’ve thought that you’d be here. Stood comfortably in the Miller’s home, stirring food over the stove as Tommy and Maria fussed over the newborn of the household in their living room.

In fact, you would’ve bet against this exact scenario, certain that you’d never let yourself get close to another Miller ever again. It was the only logical thing for you to do — after all, that wound had been angry and sore, the blood still wet.

You wouldn’t say it had healed, not even close, really. It still throbbed, white hot to the touch, especially when you thought of Joel and Ellie, but you were managing. Coping. It helped, having Tommy and Maria around, far more than you had ever expected. They were kind, softened from years of sanctuary, and you hated to admit it, but you cared about them.

The feeling had snuck up on you, which was ridiculous, considering that was exactly how it had happened before. Though, perhaps you had been less apprehensive the first time around, considering the way you flinched away from their care in the beginning. You should’ve expected it, should’ve fought against it with everything in you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

This was the reminder of just how human you were. Despite all the pain, the suffering and anger and scars against your skin, you craved connection. You wanted people to care about you, wanted your life to have meaning, even though it seemed to only end in your own heartbreak.

You just hoped this would be different.

A childish thing, to hope, in a world like this one, but that’s what you were, right? You were allowed to be childish, to let that hope build back up until it was inevitably knocked down, reduced to rubble. People seemed to appear from the strangest of places, coming to help you scavenge through the debris for something to rebuild the foundations with.

That’s what Tommy and Maria had been to you — fitting, really, considering what Tommy had done in the time before cordyceps. They had spent time with you, helping you build up that hope for something better, something kinder.

You hated to do it, hated to lean back into relationships, but you trusted the two of them more than you were willing to admit to anyone — even to yourself. With their own child now in the world, you just hoped that you wouldn’t get in the way.

Maria’s drawn out sigh shook you from such thoughts, and you raised an eyebrow at her where she stood beside you, her back resting against the kitchen counter. “What’s up with you?” You ask her, turning your gaze from her slight smirk back to the food, where you started to fish on to plates. It was a good job she’d caught your attention — much longer and the three of you would’ve been eating charred scraps.

“Oh, nothing.” She responded, and looked sharply to you when you scoffed a slight laugh. “What?” She asked, grinning.

“That was the biggest sigh I’ve ever heard, and I’ve known Joel for about as long as I can remember.” You told her, almost absentmindedly, not thinking too much on the joking comment until after you’d already spoken it.

Maria’s smile got small, and she took over the garnishing part of dishing out dinner, the part that you still didn’t understand. Why put it on there if it didn’t need to be? And when Tommy was definitely going to pick it off?

“Don’t judge me,” Maria told you, saying your name in what was almost a scolding voice, “Tommy’s just putting the baby to bed, he’ll be in in one sec.” She said, after you had moved to pick up his plate, too. You raised a hand, grabbing her plate and leaving her to bring the cutlery, rolling your eyes when she scolded you.

“Calm down, Maria, it’s only been a week. Let me help.” You said to her, when she continued to lecture you on just how capable she was, despite the way she held onto the walls and doorframes with one hand as she walked, the other holding onto her now slightly flatter stomach.

“She giving you a tough time?” Tommy asked, having settled the baby, and hearing Maria’s rants.

“Isn’t she always?” The two of you shared an amused look when Maria immediately jumped on the defence, only relenting with a roll of her eyes when Tommy leant down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hey, don’t forget who just got you all your new clay, kid!” Maria told you, as Tommy left to grab his own plate from the kitchen, and grinned when your shoulders sagged in defeat. “How’re the mugs coming?”

You shrugged idly, scraping food onto your fork.

“You talked my ear off about those damn mugs, and now you’re quiet?” Tommy questioned as he dropped down with a huff on the couch, stretching back slightly.

“That was just to annoy you.” You told him, fighting a grin when he sat up with something close to an incredulous expression on his face. You wouldn’t lie, though, it warmed your chest slightly that Maria was asking about such things when you knew how exhausted she was. Painfully, you realised that she reminded you more and more of Tess. “They’re… good. Kinda. Improving.” You said to Maria after a brief pause, before shoving your food into your mouth.

“Well, we could do with some more. Only got the two, and you’ll need one. Plus some for guests.” Maria said between bites of food, ignoring the look Tommy shot at her for the guests comment. You weren’t stupid — you knew that she was talking about Joel and Ellie. They didn’t really have other guests, after all. Any other socialising was done in town, even town-related meetings, usually going down early in the morning in the hall.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You responded, feeling something shiver down your spine bitterly as you thought of Joel and Ellie coming here.

Usually, you pretended they didn’t. You liked to think that Tommy and Maria’s house was untouchable, impervious to anyone who wasn’t you, them, or their new baby. You saw the remnants of their other guests, of course, like when you’d come in the morning, and there would be four plates in the sink. Or when Ellie’s coat still rested on the coat hooks. But the couple’s presence felt comforting, and you weren’t willing to give it up. Not right now, at least.

You refused to let Joel take anything else away from you. He didn’t have the right — he never did. It wasn’t like he was your father! Joel had made that much clear from the start, back when it had just been you, him and Tess.

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“She doesn’t have anyone, Joel, what else was I meant to do?” Tess asked, her words biting as she yelled them toward her partner.

“The last thing we need is a kid to take care of. Send her to FEDRA.” Joel responded, his voice loud, but not quite a shout. He was trying to be the voice of reason here, not the asshole. Looking after some child they didn’t ask for, it could only end badly.

What if somebody came looking for you? Somebody with a vengeance? What if you turned out to be some asshole kid who killed them both? What if they couldn’t get the rations to feed you? What if—

“What? So she can get shot in the street in a few years? Joel, she should get a choice.” Tess bargained, unsure herself as to why she felt the need to defend you so much.

She knew Joel was right — knew that it wasn’t practical or realistic to keep you in their shitty apartment, but some part of her just knew. You needed the two of them, and in the middle of the apocalypse, was it really too difficult to do one good thing? Tess wasn’t saying it to be a hero — but god knows that too many kids had died already. She wasn’t trying to give Joel somebody else to look after, she was just trying to help.

Tess wanted to be able to look you in the face, and tell you that this was your chance. They didn’t turn up often in the apocalypse, and she wanted to urge you to take it. Was that too much to offer? Just an opportunity to live a bit longer, to survive in a world that strived for your death?

“Tess…” Joel sighed heavily, turning his head to look where you were sat back against their couch cushions, knees drawn to your chest as you ducked your head, clearly pretending that you hadn’t been listening the whole time. “Okay, fine. Let the kid stay.”

Tess nodded at him, the two of them moving apart as she headed towards where you were sat, something heavy and daunting resting on her shoulders as she looked at you, foolishly hoping she wouldn’t live to regret this.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Things were getting tense in Jackson.

You knew that things had been growing restless for a while, but it had gotten worse, somehow beginning to feel tangible in the very air you breathed.

Two separate raiding attacks had come in the past three weeks, which was definitely cause for concern. The first hadn’t gotten far enough to reach you where you had slept in your shop, and it was only the morning after as the dead were buried that you found out it happened.

The second was not so easy — waking you up in the middle of the night, which was an easy task, considering how light your sleep had become at the reminder that the walls around Jackson weren’t impenetrable. You woke up to the sounds of yelling, the roaring of flames, which sounded far too close to comfort. It was only when you rushed outside of your shop, clay carving tool clutched in your hand, that you knew for certain it was raiders.

They’d gotten deep into the town, which was a shock to the system, making it feel like cold water was running down your back. People were running on the street, gunfire sounding from further out, by the wall. The raiders seemed to be multiplying, but you knew they couldn’t be more than a party of twenty. No way would any of the guards miss a group bigger than that, right?

“Get back inside!” One of them yelled towards you, a rifle sitting stiffly in his hand, and a helmet resting on his head. He didn’t have a very commanding voice. You stayed where you were, frozen.

He approached, fingers tightening on his gun, and you could’ve sworn that your heart was beating so fast in might explode. The blood was rushing in your ears, and you felt sick for a moment, before the cold wash of reality came over you, in the form of the raider yelling so harshly in your face that you could smell his breath.

You blinked harshly at him, and swallowed down the bile in your throat as he moved to raise his gun toward your head. It felt like something had snapped in you, and you were launching yourself at him in less than a second, reminiscent of a barely-there memory back before Ellie was around.

Your clay tool hadn’t been very sharp, so it had taken force to push it into his neck when he fell down under your sudden weight. You tried not to think about the pressure you’d forced on it as you shoved his head down into the pavement when he tried to lift it in some form of defence, likely trying to smack his helmet into your face. His hands reached up, pushing you away with a burst of strength — what you hoped was the final burst of adrenaline.

Loose stones on the ground scraped up against your arm, drawing the tiniest bits of blood as you skidded across the floor where he had shoved you. When he turned his gaze to you, you bared your teeth, snatching his gun and holding it firmly away from you when he reached for it, pulling the trigger.

Glass shattered behind you, and you tugged the gun until it came away from his grasp, and he reached up, pulling the tool from where it stuck out of his neck.

The gun was firmly in your hands, aimed at him, before he could even raise the tool towards you, the sudden rush of blood from his body only rendering him weaker.

Your name had been called a second later, and you scrambled away from the raider as gunshots slowly faded out, leaving behind scared shouts and the blaze of the still-burning fire. You looked up to see Tommy, rushing towards you and tugging you up from the ground the moment he reached you.

“Shit,” He muttered, holding your arms tightly as he let his gun hang limply at his side. “Are you okay? You hurt?”

You shook your head, still grasping onto the stolen gun, and watched him sigh in something close to relief, before he turned his gaze to the shattered front of your shop.

“Come on.” Tommy urged then, nodding his head and only releasing you when you made to follow him, and he grasped onto his own gun as you began the trek to his and Maria’s home.

When you got there, Tommy shoved you inside and quickly shut the door behind him, taking the gun from your hands and resting it against the wall by the coatrack. He did the same with his own gun, a moment later.

“Maria!” You called, your voice scratchy as it left your throat. The baby was crying, you could hear it the moment you stepped inside, and you moved straight into the kitchen, finding Maria stood there, holding onto the baby and shushing, as she paced back and forth.

“Oh, thank god, you’re both okay.” She sighed out, approaching her husband and pressing a hard kiss to his lips. The worry lines on her forehead were visible, showing how stressed and anxious she truly was. “You hurt?” She asked the two of you, raising her voice to be heard over the crying baby she rocked in her arms.

“No, we’re alright.” Tommy answered, his words sounding close to relief despite the way his muscles remained tight, tense.

“Shit, Tommy,” Maria swore, looking at a gash that was trickling blood down his arm. “We gotta get you patched up. Would you mind?” She directed the last question to you, lifting her arms slightly to show off the crying baby held in them.

“Uh— sure.” You agreed, anxiously, because despite the fact it had been a few weeks since the baby was born, you had continued to keep your distance. You followed Maria into the living room, where she sat you down on the couch and placed him in your arms, as you tried to mirror the shape of her own.

He was loud, and heavier than you had expected, but you let him rest heavily in your left arm, with your right just resting gently against his side, finger running over the pyjamas he was dressed in.

“You two gonna be alright?” Tommy asked, nodding when you did, and following Maria to the upstairs bathroom, where their personal first aid kit was kept.

You rocked your arms the slightest bit, trying not to release the sigh of relief when the baby finally began to settle down, the loud sounds fading and leaving behind a tense silence over Jackson. When all the loud noises faded, you were left with a slight ring to your ears, likely from where that raider had fired his gun right beside them, aimed at your shop.

You couldn’t imagine how Maria had felt — she was a protector, and it must’ve killed her to stay behind with the baby whilst her husband left to help out the town. She was still recovering from giving birth, the event taking its toll, especially in the apocalypse, where the painkillers she’d had during her first birth weren’t available. Medical professionals were hard to come by, with only two residing in Jackson, neither specialising in things such as pregnancy or labour.

Luckily, they knew more than enough about it to give Maria the best chance at survival she could get. You don’t know how Tommy might’ve reacted if she hadn’t gotten through the birth. You didn’t want to think about it.

“Tommy? Maria?” A voice yelled, the front door banging open and causing the baby to begin his wailing once again. “Shit, sorry—” Ellie cut herself off as she entered the room, shock evident on her face when she saw you sat in there.

“They’re upstairs.” You answered stiffly, referring to her earlier yells, and you began rocking the baby boy once again, trying to settle his cries. You ran a gentle finger down his forehead, to the tip of his nose, shooting Ellie a nasty look when she just continued to stare at you.

“Joel went to find you.” She said, after a few moments, lowering her voice as you finally got the baby to begin settling, your arms tense as you tried to keep him as still as possible. You looked up at that, eyebrows creasing as you regarded her, saw the way her fingers fiddled together, pulling at the zip of her jacket.

“Why?” You questioned, confused for a moment. After all, Joel hadn’t cared much about leaving you behind when the two do them left Jackson, so why would he care about your whereabouts while you were here? “I can take care of myself.” You said, when she didn’t respond to your question, and you felt your jaw tighten when Ellie just rolled her eyes.

“Joel did what he did to take care of you. Why can’t you see that?” Ellie asked, voice hardening as she looked at you, lounged against the couch, holding Joel’s nephew in your arms, whilst he was on there searching for you.

You sat up slightly, a deep crease forming between your brows at the fire in Ellie’s words. It made somerhing uncomfortable stir in your chest, tightening and getting hotter as you looked at her expression.

“I didn’t ask him to do that. I wanted to come with you both. He took that from me, Ellie, he left me behind.” You said, feeling like you were turning in circles, beginning to feel dizzy and not getting anywhere. You strained to keep your arms somewhat relaxed, to keep your hands still where they wanted to clench into fists.

Her next words were quieter, and you struggled to hear them over the ringing still in your ears, drowning out the blazing world around you. She spoke again, her eyebrows furrowing to match your own, “You’re being unfair, you said you didn’t want to carry on!”

“I said I wanted to go home!” You said, voice raising for a moment, before you quietened your tone, only for the sake of the baby you held, who had already been disturbed enough tonight. “And in case you didn’t notice, Ellie, that was impossible. I lost everyone, don’t you get that?”

She shook her head, her cheeks going red as she grit her teeth, “Of course I fucking get that! You’re not the only one who lost people.”

“That’s not what I said!” You responded, feeling increasingly heated the longer the conversation went on, “But that trip cost me everything. So yeah, maybe I didn’t want to carry on. But I would’ve. I would’ve followed you two anywhere.”

“You got to stay here, in this actual fucking town, with actual fucking people and food and— and water!”

“People who are strangers! I was stuck here, in a town with things I don’t understand, people I don’t recognise, and the only ones I trusted left me here.” You spat back at her, wishing she could just understand what it had been like — didn’t she know how it felt to have your choice taken away from you? Why should they get to decide things for you? What happened to that control that Joel and Tess knew you valued so much?

Ellie opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and you swallowed down the anger that felt lodged in your throat, focusing on the baby who was fussing in your arms, saving his hands in the air until he caught onto one of your fingers, and held it tightly.

“Sh— There you are.” Joel’s voice came from the doorway, a heavy sigh forcing itself from his chest, and he entered the living room, his face crumpled in something like fear and relief. He opened and closed his mouth more than once, like he wanted to say something, before he finally settled on, “Tommy okay?”

“Maria’s patching him up.” You said flatly, turning your head away from where he stood beside Ellie, and keeping your gaze on the baby and where he was slowly beginning to dig his blunt nails into the skin of your finger.

Joel stared at you, his chest feeling close to hollow, and he could just remember the fear that had swallowed him whole when he saw the raider lay dead outside of the shop, the shop windows shattered against the ground. He had shoved the door open faster than he could think, his boots crunching against shattered glass loudly as he rushed to the door in the back, his heart pounding so hard he thought he might have a heart attack as his eyes scanned the ground.

When he had finally gotten the door open, a breath had left him as he realised you weren’t here, and he felt the pressure that had been pushing against his spine loosen the slightest bit, and he hurried to make his way back to Rancher Street, hoping with everything he had that you were at Tommy’s.

And now, here you were, as safe as you could possibly be, but Joel still didn’t feel relieved.

He felt dread, all consuming, and it reminded him painfully of that time, all those many months ago. Had it been a year?

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Joel’s hand had been frozen, finger hovering over the trigger of his pistol, and he felt the air in his lungs struggling to get out. It was suffocating, making his body ache as he stared at you, where you held your breath, pressed as tightly to the wall as you could get.

Your eyes had closed, and he could see the muscles in your face twitch as you tried not to flinch away. One wrong move, wrong breath, wrong sound, and you’d be dead in a second — or worse, and Joel didn’t want to think about worse.

Tess was on the floor below, the three of you slowly making your way up, clearing the building as you went, aiming to get to the fifth floor, where the supplies were meant to be. Joel knew she wouldn’t be coming up any time soon, with the way the clicking echoed all throughout the room, likely travelling down the staircase.

It was right by your face — you could feel the breath against your cheek as it gargled and clicked, looking for you, getting so close that the shards of fungus that cracked its skull into pieces were almost brushing against your hair.

He didn’t know what to do — if he aimed wrong, he could hit you, or miss entirely, and just alert it to both yours and his own presence. He could try to kill it with the axe that rested against the nearby cabinet, one that he recognised from glass boxes labelled in case of fire, in the time before.

There was a glass bottle beside his foot, and with the slowest movements he could muster, Joel crouched low to the floor, gripping it in tense fingers, and threw it as far away from you as he could get it. He held his breath as it shattered, and the clicker let out a screech in your face, whirling away just as you had to exhale the breath you’d been holding. It hobbled away, unsteady on its feet, and you picked up the axe as you moved away from the wall.

Joel ushered you out of the room, back into the stairway, and grit his teeth as the clicker turned back at the sound of your hurried footsteps. He just about had time to slam the metal door shut, putting the deadbolt at the top back up into the concrete ceiling.

You breathed a sigh of relief, cradling your shaking hand to your chest, while the other gripped onto the axe tightly, ready to swing at a moments notice.

“Skip that floor?” You asked him, in a slightly joking way, and he nodded, face set in a dangerous expression as he glared at the door that shook slightly with the Infected clawing at it from the other side. With shaky legs, you climbed up to the next floor, waiting by the door as Tess poked her head up, hurrying up the steps to the floor you had just been on.

“Everything okay?” She asked, hands out towards Joel as if he was a feral animal, and he hadn’t quite realised just how thunderous his expression had become.

He nodded to the door, hearing the muffled bangs and scraped coming from the other side, the screech of fungal outrage. Tess placed a hand on his shoulder, nodding understandingly at him.

As they ascended the stairs to meet you where you waited for them, Joel could only grit his teeth as dread built tightly into his chest, squeezing his lungs and heart as he looked at your trembling fingers. You were fine, he knew, that Infected hadn’t even managed to touch you, but Joel couldn’t help the way that dread and fear began piling upon him, weighing his chest down so much that it became hard to inhale another breath.

You held the axe up, the thing slightly too heavy for you to carry it comfortably, but you managed, gripping tightly as you waited for Tess to open the door.

Joel exhaled through his nose, swallowing down the heavy feeling that was trying to crawl up his throat, and he swore you wouldn’t get that close to danger again. He didn’t want to lose you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The council meeting hadn’t gone well — you could see it on Maria’s face, the moment she stepped through the door to your shop. The tense air in Jackson had only gotten worse, feeling thicker every time you walked past the old jewellery shop down the street, now reduced to charred remains.

“What happened?” You asked, slightly reluctantly. Clearly, this wasn’t going to be a fun conversation. Part of you was worried about what she was going to answer with, too. Could they disband the town?

“Well, nobody’s got answers for how twenty-four guys got past our lookouts. And conveniently, whoever was on lookout when they got past, seems to have been rubbed off of the rota.” Maria grumbled, looking just as miserable as she felt. You felt bad for her — she should’ve been at home, feeling happy about the new member of her family, not having to deal with a town crisis.

You didn’t say anything for a moment, letting Maria press her hands against the wooden table in your shop, and watching as she leant her chin against her chest, a deep sigh leaving her.

“They agreed on fixing up the wall yet?” You asked, feeling bad about doing so when Maria’s shoulders immediately dropped some more.

“No,” She muttered, frustration inking at the corners of her words, “Said somethin’ about conserving resources.”

“But… Jackson’s exposed with that massive hole in the wall.” You replied, eyebrows furrowed in your confusion.

“I know,” Maria replied, your name falling from her lips in a slightly disheartened tone. “That’s the trouble with politics. People lose their common sense. We got another meeting tomorrow, I’m gonna convince them, don’t worry. Got a patrol in two hours, though. You alright with Tommy cooking?”

You nodded at her, frowning when she sighed again, exhausted down to her very bones. With slight hesitation, you followed along behind her as she made her way back to her house to see her son and husband before patrol.

When you arrived, Tommy was holding the baby to his chest, shaking his head as he spoke to the kid in a baby voice. You suppressed a snicker.

Maria cooed, reaching out for the baby, and grinning tiredly when he was finally placed in her arms. With a sympathetic expression, Tommy pressed a kiss to the top of her head, before you caught his eye, nodding your head toward the kitchen.

“Everythin’ alright, kiddo?” Tommy questioned, eyebrows furrowed in concern as you paced the length of his kitchen, before stopping and turning to him, looking nervous.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” You started, your expression just about stopping Tommy from making a stupid joke, “I wanna start going on patrols.”

He stopped suddenly, his whole body going still, and you looked at him with nervous eyes. It wasn’t that you were nervous about going — though you were, a little bit — it was that you were nervous he would say no.

Despite everything that had happened with Joel and Ellie, the slight meltdown back at that cabin before Jackson, it wasn’t about being out there. It wasn’t the Infected that lingered behind corners that scared you, and it wasn’t raiders that made fear settle in your bones, it was Joel and Ellie.

They had been all that you had — everybody else had been lost to the world, and you had longed for a time before all that loss, for the home you had with Joel and Tess, where danger lingered, sure, but not in the same way. They could avoid danger back at Boston QZ, could hide out in their apartment and settle with doing shitty FEDRA-issued jobs for a while if things got too hot.

Out in the world, there was no sense of control, no sense of safety, no matter where you went. You didn’t want to watch Joel and Ellie die like you had with Tess. Didn’t want to close your eyes and still see it, see flames climbing up the building that held one of the only people you cared for. You weren’t sure you could’ve handled losing anybody else, but Joel had forced that upon you, in the end.

By removing you from the outside world, placing you behind walls once again, he had just made your very worst fears come true. You had lost them.

So when you asked to go on patrols, you didn’t feel very scared. After all, you knew the world as well as anybody else, maybe even better than some of the people in Jackson. You knew how to shoot, how to stay quiet, how to spot things that often went unnoticed.

Before losing Tess, you had been good. Despite a few slip-ups here and there, you had been allowed on their rare smuggling trips for a reason. You’d known how to shoot a gun before you had known how to read, and it came naturally to you.

“Absolutely not.” Tommy answered, after a moment, his expression hardening and turning to stone, and you frowned at him.

“‘M only asking you because I was hoping to take on some of Maria’s patrols. She’s exhausted, she needs sleep, and she’s got a meeting tomorrow. She doesn’t need to be goin’ on some patrol right now.” You responded, feeling the usual fondness that came with speaking to him fall away, leaving your voice cold, as your expression went flat at his refusal.

He stayed silent for a few moments, gritting his teeth in a way that was far too reminiscent of his older brother, and he sighed. “No, we’ll find somebody else. You’re just a kid.”

“I’m better than half of the guys you usually take out.” You argued, still trying to keep your voice down, to prevent Maria from coming in and halting any conversation on the topic. “I can handle myself, Tommy.”

“Can you?”

“Yes! Who do you think handled that raider?” You countered immediately, feeling the heat of your anger push against your chest.

“That was different.” Tommy tried, holding his hands out toward you, getting increasingly frustrated as you stepped away from him.

“How was it different?” You snapped, “It wasn’t different. Stop trying to protect me, I’m not some dumb kid, Tommy. You are just as bad as Joel.”

Your words struck hard, and Tommy’s face hardened immediately after you spoke, his frustration growing into something closer to anger.

“Why, because I’m trying to keep you safe? Just like Joel did? It’s not a crime to want you to be okay! You gotta stop treatin’ us like we’re doin’ something wrong for protecting you!” Tommy argued back, and your expression fell when he grouped himself in with Joel.

“That— That was different.” You said, repeating his words back to him, and feeling something nervous press against your neck, your hands wringing together as you stood in front of the Miller, who suddenly resembled his older brother too much.

Maria entered the kitchen then, holding the baby tightly to her chest, and frowning as she looked at where you and Tommy stood at opposite sides of the room.

“What’s going on?” She asked, almost hesitantly.

“Nothin’,” Tommy answered, still looking at you with hard eyes, nothing changing on his expression. You grit your teeth together, feeling frustration cling to the back of your throat. “Right?”

You scoffed, and made your way past him, going straight to the front door and pulling it open roughly. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you stepped out, ignoring Tommy calling your name as you slammed the door shut behind you.

When you hurried away, shoes scuffing against the pathways of Jackson, you ignored how you saw Joel sat on his porch, and just hoped he’d mind his own business.

Two hours later, when there was a knock at your shop door, your eyebrows had furrowed immediately.

You weren’t sure who could be visiting you — Maria should’ve been on patrol already, and Tommy should’ve been back at home, looking after his son. You didn’t get any other visitors, at least, ones that were welcome.

When you opened the door, you saw Joel standing there, looking nervous. Your expression immediately flattened, eyebrows creasing further, and he stopped you before you could even open your mouth. “Wait,” Joel almost pleaded, and seemed close to relieved when you grit your teeth, staying quiet. “Maria asked me to bring this over, said somethin’ about Tommy covering a patrol.”

He held out a box, looking far too nervous for such a simple request, though you could understand. With your eyebrows relaxing slightly, you reached forward and plucked the box from his waiting hands, tilting it to the side to look through the transparent sides of the box at its contents.

When you noticed Joel still stood, unmoving, your eyebrows began to crease once again. “Well, thanks for bringing this over.” You said stiffly, hating how part of you wanted to let go of all of your anger, to pretend nothing ever happened, to just hug him.

You reminded yourself that he did this, that you were allowed to be angry. You had every right to be. You were allowed to scream and cry and shout, to hold on to that anger, to that feeling of being left behind.

It felt like a betrayal to yourself, to still want to be around him, and it hurt even more that he still made you feel safe.

“No problem.” He said, hesitantly, like he wanted to say something else, to continue, to broach the subject of the elephant in the room, but he held himself back. You weren’t sure what was worse, what you preferred more. Him acting like a stranger, or him acting too familiar.

You were so conflicted, over everything. You felt fractured into hundreds of tiny pieces, each individually feeling something different, shouting for their own way. Parts of you wanted to cry and let him comfort you, whilst others screamed for you to yell at him some more, for you to beg and plead for him to feel that hollowness that you had felt when he’d left you. Part of you wanted answers, wanted an explanation that would be enough, that would justify it, but you knew Joel didn’t have one.

For him, he knew it had been the right decision. He felt some peace of mind, knowing you would be safe within the walls, at his brother’s side. But it still pained him, the way you had fractured away from him, and he had let you slip through his fingers. It left a kind of emptiness in him, knowing that you believed he had abandoned you. You believed he had failed you. Joel was scared that you might be right.

“Well,” He cleared his throat, shoving his now empty hands deep into his pockets, and he nodded at you, the action paining him. “I’ll, uh, head off, then.”

You nodded, watching him step back and turn to go before you closed the shop door, missing the way he turned back to say something, only to be faced with a closed door. He heard the lock turn.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It had taken three days for Tommy to crack.

He didn’t like the silence between the two of you, it made his neck feel itchy, his heart race uncomfortably. He worried about you, more than he had even realised himself.

So when you looked at him, eyebrows raised expectantly, he couldn’t help but relent. You were stubborn, even now, and you really did remind him of Joel with that expression on your face. Tommy wondered if you knew just how many mannerisms you’d picked up from his older brother, but thought better than to mention it.

“Okay, fine.” He gritted, his gaze steely even as he watched your face light up in victory, “But—”

“But?” You echoed, incredulously.

“But you’re only going on a patrol if one of us is on it, too.” Tommy continued, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at your interruption. When he saw your annoyance, he fixed his statement slightly, “At least to start with. We’ll get you some trainin’, on the horses and guns, then we’ll see where we are.”

You smiled, and as much as Tommy hated to let you get your way in this, he was just glad to see you smiling at him again. “Thanks, Tommy.” You said, letting him reach over and pay your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He grumbled.

“Hey, I made you something.” You told him suddenly, face seemingly lighting up further as you thought of whatever it was. Tommy raised his eyebrows suspiciously, tapping his fingers against the wooden table in the middle of your shop. “I know how much you loved hearing about them, so.”

You held up a box, filled with five mugs, some slightly misshapen, but holding the vague shape of a regular old mug. The handles were difficult, he recalled you telling him, and he could see it reflected in your work, the handles wonky, or curved into a strange shape. He smiled nonetheless, unable to help the laugh that escaped him.

“Well, I never.” He said, amused, and picked up one of the mugs, with a sloppily painted bear on the front. “You figured out the glaze, then?”

“Kinda. Thought it was gonna be blue.” You replied, pointing at the mug with an orangey brown owl painted on. “But I like it.”

“Me too, kiddo, me too. Say, Maria’s gonna be thrilled.” Tommy grinned, putting the mug he was holding back into the box before taking it off of your hands, rolling his eyes when you cautioned him.

“Well, let me know, yeah?” You asked, despite knowing that she was going to love them no matter what they looked like, simply because you made them. You had noticed that about her. You could probably hand her a chunk of clay, which barely resembled anything other than what it was, and she’d thank you for it.

“I will do. You’re comin’ for dinner later, right?” He questioned, gripping onto the box tighter with one hand, so he could free up his other one to place his hand on the door.

“Think I’ll just eat at the hall, tonight. You guys should come, too. Maria does far too much cooking.” You suggested, shrugging his shoulders when he looked offended, as if he should cook more. “Please, do not even go in the kitchen. The baby’s too young to be subjected to the smell of your cooking.” You joked, laughing when he huffed, exiting the house while yelling about not letting you come around anymore.

You shook your head, grabbing a chunk of clay you had cut off from the slab earlier, and dumping it on the wheel.

These people would be the death of you, you were sure, as your chest warmed from the interaction.

PART FOUR

#joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x you #tlou one shot #pedro pascal angst #tlou imagines #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #joel miller father figure #joel miller fic #joel miller imagines #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal imagines #tlou imagine #tommy miller angst #tommy miller fluff #heartpascal writes

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shdysders · 1 month

Text

last kiss

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: in which you and tara truly had your last kiss.

word count: 1.5k

author’s note: this song is fully based on last kiss by taylor swift. also sorry for bad update and shit writing, i’m currently not feeling motivated for it.

"I love you."

Those were the three words you had whispered into Tara's ear, with your soothing and mellifluous voice.

It had been late. 1:38 to be exact. You couldn't fall asleep, although you thought Tara was. Whispering in her ear and kissing her cheek, being completely unaware of the fact that she hadn't yet to doze off either.

She had tried her hardest not to let the huge smile spread across her face. You had whispered the words for just the two of you to know.

Later that night, Tara had opened her eyes, feeling the need to see your features once again before drifting off. You'd looked so tranquil, peaceful. Your face lit through the darkness like a radiant moon, casting a gentle glow all around.

You told Tara you loved her.

So why did you leave? Go away?

It was not until now Tara remembered the time when you had reunited with her after sixteen long weeks apart. The sixteen weeks of Tara's school semester, who had felt like an eternity.

She recalled the smell of the rain, the sound of the drops hitting the hood of her rain jacket, and the fresh downpour on the pavement.

You had stayed up the entire night, just to get to the airport just in time so Tara wouldn't have to wait when she landed. July ninth.

Tara had ran of the plane just to see you, sprinted towards you the second she saw your sneakers on the concrete floor of the arrival hall. She jumped onto you, embraced you in a bone crushing strength you didn't know she had.

She remembered the smell of your floral scented perfume in her nostrils, and the way she felt your heart jumping through the material of your hoodie. She could still feel your arms around her sometimes.

Now she didn't have anyone to sprint towards after she'd gotten off a plane.

The only way she could feel your smell now was when she wore your clothes, the garments that you had left at her house and then forgotten.

Tara put on your clothes almost every day, sitting on the floor of her room, letting the smell of the different fabrics bring her to a happier place; the memories with you.

She thought about how much she missed you all the time. Although she was unsure if you ever thought of her.

Tara felt unsure of everything. She didn't know if the split between the two of you was the cause of it, or if it was all of the betrayals from previous events. But she did know that the only thing she was certain of was that she didn't know how to be someone you missed.

She knew you didn't miss her, but that didn't stop her from trying to figure out how to get you to yearn for her. As much as she did for you.

Was the key to get a new partner? Or post stuff that showed she was happier than ever? What could possibly make you want her again?

Something else Tara thought about constantly, was your last kiss. The last kiss she never thought the two of you would have. She thought you would spent the rest of your life alongside one another.

She had never thought about her relationship with you ending nor taking a drastic turn, but when it did come across her mind one time, she'd never imagined that it would happen like this.

She never planned on kissing Chad.

It wasn't on purpose. Of course it wasn't.

She would never intentionally do something to hurt you. Never.

But she had done it anyway. She had tried to blame it on the alcohol that she had poured into her body minutes before, but she was very aware that wouldn't get her anywhere.

Because the truth was; Tara didn't have a reason behind it, not at all.

She had asked herself the question over and over again; why she had done it, knowing that was the first question you'd ask her when she told you. But she couldn't come up with a proper answer.

Tara had felt out of place for months. She had felt this longing for comfort and validation. She knew that if she talked to you about it and expressed how she felt, you would've erased that feeling. Oh how she wished she had went to you to begin with.

She didn't know why she didn't.

Tara knew she could trust you. She knew she could trust you like a lighthouse guiding her through stormy seas.

Yet her mind told her something was wrong. She was fighting a battle with herself at that point,

the internal battle being between what she knew was right and the temporary relief she sought.

She felt disgusted with herself for sleeping with Chad. They had known each other ever since birth, and she thought that might've ruined their friendship for all eternity, however that wasn't the relationship she was worried about ruining.

The relationship she was worried about destroying was with the person's name she had accidentally moaned out.

Your name.

It was always on her lips.

Even when she tried to enjoy herself with other men, all she could find herself thinking about was you.

You'd forever be the name on her lips, no matter how hard she tried.

As she looked back on your time together, she couldn't help but remember the swing of your step. The way you moved with such grace and confidence. Each stride carried a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of her heart.

You were the life of the party, always showing off, whether it was in beer pong or in dancing, you loved dancing. You would always pull Tara onto the dance floor just so she would join you, and she would roll her eyes for it.

Tara wasn't much for dancing, she'd never liked it and was never going to. But for you, she did dance. She danced like nobody was watching, and she never seemed to regret it, because it always made you beam with a smile.

She'd do anything to watch you smile. She'd do anything to be with you again.

Because she loved the way you greeted Sam with a gentle handshake whenever you joined them for dinner. She loved the way you walked with your hands in your pockets.

How you'd kiss her when she was in the middle of saying something. She'd always end up kissing back, and she never complained, yet she still called it rude interruptions, and there wasn't a day she didn't miss them.

She'd do anything to experience that again.

The only experiences with you she had now, was the ones she tried to relive with your clothes on her body. When she would sit on her floor, pressed into a corner of the four walled room, either sobbing or just thinking about you, and how she didn't know if you ever wasted a thought on her.

She was now watching your life in pictures as regularly as she used to watch you sleep.

You slept over at her house almost every night, and on every occasion Tara would lay in front of you for hours, just admiring your features and relaxed face. She never told you about it, but now she wished she did.

She could feel you starting to forget her, as often as she used to feel you breath. Whenever you embraced her as you slept, she made sure to keep count your breaths and the amount of seconds between them, like they were about to stop if she didn't count.

They never stopped. Luckily. But she stopped hearing them after she'd told you the truth. About what she had done with Chad. She never got to hug you again after that, or count your heartbeats.

Tara tried to keep up with your old mutual friends as often as she could, asking them how you were doing. She always received short answers, politely short answers.

She could tell they wanted nothing to do with her. Same as you wanted nothing to do with her, Chad or even Mindy.

You would occasionally greet Mindy in the corridors, never even bothering to look at Tara or Chad, which was understandable, but that didn't stop the jealousy from flooding through Tara's veins from the sight.

She hoped you were doing well. She hoped it was nice where you were. Wherever you were. Whoever you were with.

She hoped that some day, when the sun would shine and it'd be a beautiful day, that you'd be reminded of something about her, and that'd you wish you had stayed. For whatever reason.

She hoped that at some point, you'd think back to the last kiss you shared, that you would change your mind, and that you'd want to come back to her.

Just so everything could be the way it was. The way she ruined.

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams x reader #mabel x reader #melissa barrera x reader

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lastoneout · 10 months

Text

I def agree that Nimona's story was a major trans allegory for sure, but also as a queer person in general the whole "maybe I wouldn't die, but I sure wouldn't be living" thing resonated so hard, and like especially as a bisexual person.

Cuz being bi+ there's a lot of pressure from both sides to pick one, either be gay or be straight, and it gets way worse when we're in a relationship, bcs people will say shit like "oh well you're a woman dating a man, so you're straight now, why do you keep talking about being bi?" or vice-versa, like people don't understand why recognizing my indentity is important outside of the context of a relationship, and it's so frustrating bcs yeah like, maybe from the outside it looks like I'm straight, and maybe I could just be quiet and ignore my identity and I'd wouldn't die, but...I wouldn't be living.

And it was wild too bcs a few months back I was talking with my fiancé, who's also bi, and kinda venting cuz I'd seen some of that kind of biphobia in the wild and it'd upset me, and I remember saying something so similar. Like "I could probably just shut up and pretend I'm not bisexual, but that would feel like a death, like some part of me had died, I wouldn't be able to really live" so to hear Nimona say basically the exact same thing? Instant tears. I've never felt more understood.

And even with the other parts of myself, being asexual and trying to figure out what sort of relationship I want to have to my gender, so often I see people say stuff like "why do you have to tell other people that you're ace" and "if you're not going to transition at all why does your gender identity matter" and it's like because this is my authentic self and expressing that is the only way I can feel like my life is worth living!!

It's just so nice to hear that put into words, and I have a feeling a lot of queer people of all identities could relate in that moment, bcs we all hear the refrain of "why can't you just keep this to yourself and pretend you're normal" over and over again from ignorant people, some who mean well and some who very much Do Not, and Nimona is right! Maybe some of us wouldn't die outright, but for a lot of us a life spent hiding who we are, stuffing ourselves in boxes for the comfort of others, trying desperately to seem normal, it simply isn't a life where we're truly living.

Anyway rambling over, this movie is just so good and so queer and ough I can't stop crying about it T-T

#nimona #pls watch nimona #nimona spoilers #queer #bisexual #bisexuality #bi+

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gr1mstar · 3 months

Text

Please, be mine

synonyms: best friend!gojo who has a crush on you

notes: another day, another... idk what this is man ))

content: college au | no curses | best friend!gojo satoru x f!reader | friends to lovers | popular gojo satoru

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

college student gojo was very popular with the ladies, never having a hard time making friends or flirting with people. you, on the other hand, was the exact opposite of him. you had a few friends and no successful relationships, but that didn't stop the boy from liking you.

be wanted your attention, he craved your touch and he was desperate over your voice.

he was always there for you - you were sick so he took notes in class for you, even though he never takes note, him buying you your favorite milk flavor, waiting for you with an umbrella for an hour at university because was raining and he didn't want you to be sick again. all he did was much beyond what a best friend would do, and for some time he thought you knew about his feelings.

he stopped seeing other people but you never noticed.

gojo didn't want to damage your relationship at first, thinking that maybe it was for the best, but soon he started having doubts.

he's seen you crying over an ex, being dump over stupid things and he had enough. he was determined to make you his girlfriend and treat you as a princess. so he took all his confidence and he asked you on a date. a very classic one.

“let’s go to the movies.”

“it’s something new? of course i’ll come, i didn't spend time with my best friend in a long time”

“no. not best friend, let's not be best friends there.”

so you went to the movies, thinking that maybe your best friend wouldn't be joking about this ‘date’ thing. and he didn't, because somewhere in the first hour of the movie he was already kissing you, confessing his crush on you.

“please, be mine.”

of course, you accepted.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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popquizhot-shot · 11 months

Note

Feel free to ignore this, but I saw you want Miguel requests soooo.

Platonic Miguel x teen spider reader. Preferably gn. And like, he sees his daughter in the reader or smth, idk how to explain it, but I think it would be cute to see it

ONGOSH THANK YOU I absolutely love this<33 I wrote this on my phone but Im honestly so hyped up I love father figure!miguel. I hope you don’t mind but I’m doing this in the form of headcanons.

Miguel O’Hara x teen!spider!Reader

-okay so your obviously one of the only people Miguel loves tolerates.

-your universe isn’t “home” to you, Miguel is. He’s like the father you never had and at first, the both of you absolutely detested one and other. In fact, Jessica was the one who convinced him to recruit you, way before Gwen or even Peter came into the picture.

-at first, he was stand-offish and a total dickhead to you, but slowly warmed up and began to humour you. He’d smirk at your horrible jokes and pretend to roll his eyes when you teased him.

-in fact, when you first laughed your ass off at one of his remarks, something in him knew that he’d do anything to protect you.

-he already lost one daughter, he wasn’t losing you.

-In all honesty, your relationship is very similar to Joel and Ellie from the Last of Us.

-you have inside jokes that even Lyla doesn’t understand, and she’s an AI.

-It takes all his strength to not snort when you make faces behind someone’s back, he knows you do it to make him laugh.

-he gives you tips on how to take care of yourself.

-a whole bottle of baby powder suddenly appears in your room in spider society. He says he knows nothing.

-lyla shows you the camera footage of him placing it on your bedside table.

-he’s close to tears when you specially make him empanadas. He’d been in a bad mood and when he went to his desk, there was a plate of empanadas with a post it note from you.

- “dont waste them I spent like two hoursmaking them for you”

-he scarfs them down of course.

-like all fathers, he can be strict sometimes, especially because you’re a kid. He doesn’t want you getting hurt. If you’re hurt he helps patch you up himself.

-“you fucking crazy? What were you thinking, trying to catch a car instead of dodging it?”

-your arguments are shushed by him shoving a spoon of soup into your mouth.

-“don’t waste it.” He says, “I spent some time making it while you were asleep.”

-he can’t pinpoint an exact moment from when he started seeing you as his daughter, but it’s probably from the time he got super protective around hobie.

-ain’t no kid coming near his daughter.

-almost snarls when hobie jokingly flirts with you.

-he subtly pushes hobie away when the guy walks behind you.

-you’re the only person other than lyla who can snark him and get away with it without an insult being jabbed at you.

-he’s hugged you a total of two times.

-the first was when you almost died, the second was when he almost died and you freaked out.

-you’d already lost your family, you could not lose him too.

“Miguel, get up.” You tearfully say to his sleeping form, “I can’t do this without you.”

-when he’d stirred, the first thing he saw was your shocked face and then you tackled him.

-he loves you. Like, a whole lot.

-he smiles at you when you walk around in his office, rambling about random stuff. He’s glad that you’re comfortable enough around him to stop masking your personality.

-his jokes are LAME. Like dad jokes are his jam and they’re just so bad.

-“why do sharks live in salt water? because pepper water makes them sneeze.” “Miguel PLEASE-”

-did I mention he’d probably die for you? Like fuck the universe(s) he’s not losing his baby daughter again.

-OOO IMAGINE THE BOTH OF YOU AS DRACULA AND MAVIS

-it’s weird but it’s funny.

-Gwen loses her shit when she sees you sitting next to him with your head on his shoulder.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv x Reader #miguel o'hara x reader

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c-nstantine · 7 months

Text

The Grandmaster and His Concubine

Description: Bi Han uses his personal whore.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning: Y/N has a severe case of dumb bitchitis, smut, cursing, doggy style, not choking but his hand is on her throat, reverse cowgirl, mild breeding kink towards the end (i think this is the first outright smut I've written so go easy on me)

Being weak in the Lin Kuei was simply not allowed. It was frowned upon to be so and it was fortunate that Y/N found the favor of Bi Han, the Grandmaster. For a man who rarely pitied anything, he pitied her. So much so, that he wanted her by his side when possible. Now rumors circulate about the exact nature of their relationship, it's hard for anyone to tell if Bi Han enjoys the company of Y/N.One thing is certain, he enjoys spending his nights between her thighs.

Tonight was one of those nights. He had faced a foe in battle that wasn't strong but it frustrated him to no end. Y/N could hear the footsteps of her beloved as he approached her quarters. His footsteps were heavy and his voice was rough as he commanded his subordinates to do something useful with themselves for the night. Y/N smiled with excitement as her doors opened. She kneeled on the bed wearing only a robe with her hair free as can be.

"Grandmaster," Y/N whispered in acknowledgment of the man in front of her. He stood, looking down upon her. His mask was removed so that Y/N could see his face. She reached out to touch his cheek but he caught her wrist. His grip was tight but not enough to hurt her, not yet.

"You're already on your knees for me," Bi Han's hand found its way to her throat, and out of instinct, Y/N's mouth fell open. Bi Han swelled with pride because of how well he had trained Y/N.

"Of course, beloved," Y/N said with a pleasing smile as Bi Han gave a small squeeze to her throat.

"How endearing. Bathe me, whore," Bi Han commanded and Y/N was more than happy to oblige him.

His grip loosened on her wrist and she took this as time to grab his hand and lead him towards the hot spring just outside her quarters. It was surrounded by wooden walls that were at least 10 feet tall. It's not like anyone could spy on them back here, Bi Han would have the head of anyone peeping on what's his. The water was lined with various plants and the faint croaking of frog-like creatures could be heard. Y/N took her time undressing him, he rarely allowed her to do so. Maybe he did care about her beyond the physical. Steam erupted from the spring the moment that he stepped in. She began to slowly scrub away in dirt and blood from his body as he sat in the water. His hair was in a loose bun with a few strands falling around his face.

This felt more intimate than anything they had ever done. Once again, he grabbed her wrist but this time it was to pull her to be directly in front of him. He removed her robe and grabbed her hips. Y/N sat in his lap.

"Can you feel that? That is what you do to me," With his hands still on her hips, he ground his hips against hers. Y/N shuddered and gasped. She had taken him many times before, but every time, she was still surprised by his size.

He kissed her neck and lifted her hips slightly so he could slip into her. Between the warm water surrounding them and her juicy pussy, he truly thought he was in heaven. Y/N could feel his cold hands move from her hips to her plump ass. She was sure that in the morning, her brown ass would have grip marks.

"Ride me as I taught you," Bi Han took pride in being the first man that Y/N was ever with. Meaning that she was his custom whore and all of her little tricks were only for him and would only be for him. She would never take another lover if he could help it.

Y/N whined at the loss of contact when Bi Han moved his hands away from her hips. He leaned back and spread his arms over the rocks behind them. He smirked as Y/N bounced up and down in his dick. He thought the view of her bouncing titties was a sight to behold. He liked to study her face as she did all the work. The way her face would scrunch as she used his dick to hit her spot.

As Y/N's knees began to burn, Bi Han began to grunt slightly and thrust into her hips. His hands found her waist once more, and he took control of her motions. Y/N's hands were grasping for his shoulders as he forced her down on his cock. Her moans grew louder and louder until her pussy clenched around his cock. He filled her womb soon after, and Y/N was happy to feel so warm with her lover's seed.

Abruptly, Bi Han stood up and moved him and Y/N to her bed. He tossed her onto her sheets and soon climbed on top of her. He stroked her cheek with his calloused, cool thumb. He looked at her more sincerely than before and if Y/N wasn't sure before, she was sure now that she would never leave him. He kissed her still-damp cheek before spreading her legs.

Y/N was still a little dazed from the first orgasm he had given her when he slipped back into her. However, she did not forget how it felt to have inside of her. The way that with every stroke she felt closer and closer to being complete. The grip he had on her thighs would have her bruised in the morning but she refused to remove her legs from above his shoulders.

His hips began to stutter as he plowed into her pussy. Y/N was finding it difficult to stay in place. She was sure that she had came at least twice now but he continued to ram into her. As he continued to fuck her, he got more sentimental. One of his hands left her thigh and began to play with her nipples. Carefully, he'd use his abilities to give her more pleasure.

"Tonight, you will make me an heir. Is that clear, slut?" He spoke cumming in her for the second time of the night. His voice was gruff from all of the groaning that he had been doing.

"Yes, Grandmaster," She was a little drunk off the cock when he flipped her over. Hearing Y/N being so delusional over him, made him want to go another round. He flipped her over and pushed her head into the pillow.

"How does it feel the Grandmaster's personal whore?" Y/N couldn't even respond with how hard she was being fucked. Once again her moans filled the chambers. The sounds of skin slapping could be heard well outside of her room but everyone knew not to disturb the Grandmaster once he was in this state.

"Damn," Bi Han whispered as he took in Y/N's form. He took his hand and pressed on her back so that he could reach the deepest parts of her. She was sure that he was kissing her cervix with every stroke.

"Bi Han," Y/N whined loudly when he finished inside her once again.

Y/N tried to move away from him to grab a towel but he pulled her back to his chest. He was cold but in a comforting way. His eyes said words that his mouth could not.

"You will not move. My seed will not leave your womb," Bi Han said kissing her cheek again. Y/N just nodded tiredly. When he returned Y/N was already asleep, so he placed her bonnet on gently and wiped his excess seed from her thighs. He noted the various bruises and a sense of pride came from them.

"She is mine," He whispered before joining her in bed once more.

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #bi han x reader #bi han x black reader #bi han sub zero #mk sub zero #sub zero mk1 #sub zero x reader #mk 1 x reader #mk 1 #bi han smut #sub zero smut

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akutasoda · 7 months

Note

I’m started to like requested things off songs- so here’s another one!!

reader who has an ability where she dies..but just comes back. It’s like the next day? Like she dies and then just shows back up not dead and perfectly fine? I’m thinking it’s a enemy to lover thing?

with chuuya, Dazai, atsushi, kunikida, akutagawa, and Verlaine?

-🌀Anon

i still feel alive

synopsis - you forgot to tell them about your ability, why should they know they were your enemy, but maybe you should've

includes - atsushi, dazai, kunikida, chuuya, akutagawa, verlaine

warnings - gn!reader, angst to some comfort, fluff, enemies to lovers, reader dies but not really, wc - 2.2k

a/n: apologies in advance but all sections are very varying lengths

atsushi nakajima ★↷

your relationship with the were-tiger was nothing short of more than a workplace rivalry. you hadn't been working there much longer than he had but upon his first few days, he saw you as quite the respectable colleague and in turn aspired to become more like you in the workplace.

you recognised this quite early and saw it as a friendly competition. and soon he caught on. and that's how the friendly workplace rivalry had begun. wether it was with paperwork or actual missions you both turned it into a competition. and the other members of the agency found it either entertaining, or rather childish but let it be either way.

however you both knew the limits of when to stop the rivalry and that was often during difficult missions. and now more than ever atsushi understood what had drawn him to you in the first place. but it seemed to late as he watched the life drain from your body with now one in the vicinity abke to help. now he had realised everything, but now you were dead.

this whole time he was so oblivious to yours and his feelings but now it was too late he understood them. and even now he couldn't help but still have you occupy his mind. he thought about you constantly, you and everything he wished had gone differently. and before he knew it a day had passed and he hadn't even returned to work after the mission, going straight home.

he didn't want to go back to work but he knew it would do him no good sitting around thinking of you, atleast maybe this would distract him. but as he walked into the office dazai walked up to him with a rather happy smile and asked him to follow. atsushi mindlessly followed until dazai opened a door they had stopped at, atsushi couldn't believe his eyes. there you stood, unharmed and perfectly fine.

he was inclined not to believe what he was seeing but you knew what he was going to think and quickly shut down any misconceptions. now he had the time to work out his feelings but for now he embraced you and sobbed into your shoulder, getting you to promise never to scare him like that again.

osamu dazai ★↷

from the minute you had first met dazai, you had quite honestly thought he was quite annoying. he often teased you about everything and would try and embarrass you constantly. so what better thing to do then reciprocate the feeling. starting a very long lasting rivalry that made him quite smug knowing that he started it.

wether you worked with him or not he would find a way to annoy you on the daily just for you to return the favour. to anyone else it looked like a very childlike rivalry but they never said anything. but one of the main reasons for the rivalry was for the fact that dazai wasn't that good with genuine feelings.

he never knew how to get across specific feelings to be more exact. from the moment he had met you he knew that he wanted to be someone to you but had no idea how to go about that as mostt relationships he had were most likely to get something out of it and were a one time thing. so he was ultimately lost and the only way he could think of keeping you close was to start a petty rivalry. he never wanted to lose you.

and even knowing that most things he cared for were lost, he let himself get slightly closer to you. close enough that to him it seemed as if fate cruelly ripped out any chance of him hoping to further the relationship with you. and that came in the form of having to witness your death. he was in disbelief, he had tried so hard to avoid this bit here it was and it hurt none the less.

it had completely destroyed his mask seeing you die. he felt more somber and returned home to let it out within the scarce comfort of his four walls. and before he knew it, it was morning. he had debated not going into work but then people would notice something up and ask questions and he didn't want that. so with a heavy-heart he went to work yet again, mind consumed with thoughts about you.

however as he arrived at the agency he walked into the room where his and other desk were held just to see you sat there at his desk with the most smug smile he had ever seen. he quickly caught on to what had happened and internally cursed himself for forgetting. you truly had the last laugh. but he was so relieved that nothing truly bad had happened to you, and so relieved he hadn't held you for fear his ability may of gotten in the way.

doppo kunikida ★↷

the last thing anyone expected form him was to have a childish rivalry with you. yet here he was and for reasons that no-one knows, he had a very childlike rivalry with you. you found it very entertaining and therefore only teased him or tried to one up him more which often lead to making it even worse.

throughout the whole time, he bad thought he just had a weird hatred for your insistent teasing. but for reasons that escaped him he felt something more for you but never really acknowledged them.

however he wishes maybe he could've accepted them, and maybe you two would've developed beyond the rivalry. but now he had watched you die. he was in disbelief initially, there was no way you had died. and all at once it had hit him, the realisation that he would never see you again and never hear your teasing remarks. it was rare for him to diverge from his schedule, but the lack of sleep he got that night was from the tears that flowed endlessly.

he truly didn't want to go into work, but that would further mess up his schedule and maybe he could distract himself from the thoughts of you that occupied his mind. as he entered the building he was faced with something he could only imagine was his mind playing a cruel trick on him. it was you, unharmed and perfectly fine.

you had to quickly explain yourself as you could tell how confused and upset he was. he cursed your ability for making him worry that much but he also thanked it, thanked it for keeping you alive until he finally understood his feelings.

chuuya nakahara ★↷

he was known for being quite the confident person. that was no doubt. so when you had shown up and started teasing him and just overall annoyed him he wasn't sure what to do. but of course his natural instinct was to just do it back, and hence your rivalry started. always trying to one up or embarrass the other. often getting into petty arguments or small childlike squabbles.

whatever the reason you had initially started teasing him may or may not compare to what he was currently feeling. somewhere along the way he started developing something that he didn't quite know what it was or why he had started feeling this way. and he didn't quite know what to do with these feelings so for now he stuck to continuing this rivalry.

but maybe he should've hurried up with trying to understand his feelings. because now he thought he eould have no other chances. he had experienced alot of deaths, some personal and others just part of his job but your death was one of the worst he had ever experienced. and all of a sudden, affter watching your death he became even more painfully aware of his feelings.

everything seemed a bit more dull to him. finishing the mission, deciding to leave early and eventually going to bed. every action felt meaningless and his mind wasn't focused on tasks, more so focused on you and what could've been. he went to bed with a clouded mind and a dull ache in the back of his mind.

even going into work felt wrong. knowing you wouldn't be there to tease or mock him. but to his very surprise there you stood. stood unharmed and rather smig standing next to koyo. he thought this couldn't be real and that this was a cruel trick. but you had noticed him and very aware of what he was thinking, explained everything to him.

you truly had one upped him again. he had yelled at you telling you never to scare him like that, but you couldn't help but laugh at how honest he had finally became with his feelings.

ryunosuke akutagawa ★↷

a very unlikely relationship to most but neither of you cared. you two had built a very much silent rivalry between you, always trying to be better than the other or just mocking the other whenever the chance presented itself. you found it fun from the very beginning, amd akutagawa at first found it annoying but too had found some entertainment in it.

none one knows quite why you both started the rivalry, not even you two. you just knew that this rivalry had gone on for a while and never ceased to be entertaining. and eventually you bith equally felt as if there was something more between you, not just the petty rivalry but something much deeper. sadly, neither of you had the courage to speak up about.

but now he wished he did. after all this time he wished you had stayed with him just a bit longer, to help him figure out these feelings that you had spurred in him. it seemed unfair. but here you were, presumed dead in the middle of battle with akutagawa as a witness. he couldn't believe it, he almost wanted to be angry at you for leaving him, for dying. but he knew that was selfish as this couldn't be helped. or maybe it could and he didn't try hard enough.

to a passerby he would seem unfased by the whole ordeal. but to people closer to him, for example gin, they would notice his slightly more vacant stare, the look of regret and maybe remorse in his eye. you occupied his mind still, and while he never could say things to you he wished to, he could say them to himself and think of you again and again.

only a day had passed to his surprise, it felt longer atleast. but it was yet another day of work for him made slightly less bearble by your lacking presence. but before he could even get near the building he noticed someone familiar on the steps. there stood you, unfazed and unharmed. he couldn't believe his eyes and demanded an explanation. one you gladly gave him.

he was thankful for your ability, not that he would say it out loud, but it had saved you. but he also wishes you never scare him like that ever again. and may of given you a stern scolding for making him worry.

paul verlaine ★↷

complicated was one way to describe your relationship with the blondette. complicated in more ways than one. you had met through a mutual friend years ago, rimbaud. despite his previous attitudes and personality he seemed act differently towards you and you the same. you both had started a simple sort of rivalry that made it very tempting to tease and make snarky comments toward the other.

but despite this unwavering rivalry, it did seem that you two did get along. if maybe you pushed aside your childlike rivalry you two would have quite the strong friendship. however there were a few reasons for this not happening - mainly to do with verlaine. he did not trust easily and it didn't help you both had similar jobs. hr could feel deep down that you were someone that was genuine, with little thanks to rimbaud being the one to introduce you. but he couldn't help but start these petty arguments as an attempt to push you away.

but as if it was a cruel fate, soon after he had started slowly letting his walls down. he cursed himself over and over again for letting himself let it get to this. a mission gone wrong and now he had watched you die. he felt as if it was a punishment and tried to move on from it but no matter what he could only remember you. he wanted nothing more than to forget that memory or atleast stop cursing himself that he could've done more.

the next morning he had not stopped thinking about you, no matter what he tried he just couldn't move on. that was until rimbaud had walked in and said he had something to show him. that was until you stepped through the doo, perfectly fine. he thought he was the victim of a very cruel trick but quickly realised after your explanation that it was your stupid ability. he was overjoyed of course but he wished you had told him first.

you however couldn't help but tease him about his worrysome state. the smug smile made him realise something. you were someone he probably could trust, someone he wouldn't lose for a very long time.

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pedropascallme · 1 year

Text

Crush

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: “The door opened and you turned toward it out of impulse. The man that was suddenly in front of you was Tess’s age, you guessed. Dark hair greying, sleeves of his denim button down rolled up to the elbows, face…mean. Joel Miller in the flesh.”

Warnings: Smut (18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), age gap (reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is canon typical age), p in v sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), kinda mean!Joel, degradation, praise kink, orgasm denial/edging, I will sprinkle in queer Tess. If I missed anything please let me know!

Soundtrack: Crush by Ethel Cain

Joel had a problem with saying no.

He knew it made him seem soft, but he just couldn’t get it out. There was something about becoming a father that increased the negative connotation of the word; using it as a response meant hampering the needs of someone who trusted you. Or the wants. And it was always the wants he fell victim to. Sarah knew his weaknesses—she was his biggest one. A goldfish, extra dessert, a slumber party— “Sure, darlin’.”

Sarah was all he cared about, and he’d give her everything she ever wanted, even when it meant looking like a pushover.

But his window had passed; all will to live drained and replaced by pure survivalism. He pretended to get over it out of instinct, willing himself to push everything down in order to keep going.

He didn’t mind saying no anymore. He had nobody to say it to, anyway.

Maybe that made him a bad man.

~~~

You had befriended Tess by chance. She frequented the same spots you did—speakeasies and back allies, surrounded by men she wanted nothing to do with.

At least you had that much in common with her.

Tess was older than you by maybe twenty years, and you knew nearly nothing about her. You knew her name, you knew what she did to get the extra rations she kept in her front pocket, and you knew she lived with Joel Miller. You had never pried about their relationship, and all you knew of Joel was that he was as gorgeous as his reputation was mean.

She had the tendency to be hot headed, there was no doubt that she could be rough, although you felt her fire was what drew you to her in the first place. Another person who had lost everything obviously wasn’t inaccessible, but it helped that she was one of the few women that you had seen around. When she had thrown a punch so hard it nearly shattered her hand, you grabbed her and walked her home while she stumbled along with you.

No matter how watered down the whiskey in the QZ was, enough of it would do the trick.

“You ok?” You grabbed her by the waist, catching her before she fell, distracted by the blood on her knuckles. You didn’t know if it was hers or the man whose bottom tooth she had loosened.

“Guys here are as bad as fucking raiders…” She mumbled, looking down at her feet. “Could’a walked home myself.” You knew she could’ve, but the thought of letting her stagger home by herself so close to curfew made you uneasy.

Some things never change.

“Didn’t want you to,” You kept walking, one stride ahead of her at all times. “Could’ve been dangerous.”

“They know not to fuck with me,” she was giggling now, and she looked almost girlish with her features softened. “Living with Miller has its perks.”

“Wouldn’t want your boyfriend having to exact revenge just cause I let you walk home drunk.”

“What?” Tess stopped walking.

“Aren’t—sorry, are you and Joel not—?”

Tess snorted, “Joel and I are not an item. I don’t, y’know. He’s not my type.” She had sobered almost instantly. “I like my partners…feminine.”

Oh. Oops.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. We get it a lot. Easy living with each other cause we’re the only two that know how to empathize with the other.” She started walking again, leaving you with space to catch up. You didn’t inquire further about what she meant, it wasn’t something anybody wanted to discuss, ever. Loss and death were everywhere, there was no need to reflect on past experiences. Especially with someone like Tess who, in all honesty, intimidated you mightily. You just jogged to meet her pace.

You followed her into the building, not that you could really explain why.

She had pushed the door open and motioned to you, silently telling you to come into what once could’ve been passed off as a $3,000/month studio apartment. She dropped her belongings on the kitchen table, getting two glasses and pouring watered-down sambuca into each one. You hated the taste, but appreciated that she seemed to genuinely want to spend time with you.

“You remember anything?” She prompted after finishing her drink.

“What?” You had barely touched yours. The anise flavored booze had a different burn than whiskey.

“Before.”

“I was little. I remember seeing Attack of the Clones. And that Scooby Doo movie.”

“I was in my thirties when those came out,” she laughed, “I fucking loved Scooby Doo.” You found yourself laughing along with her. She deadpanned after a moment, examining you.

“You’re still young. Not fair to you to have seen all that as a kid.”

“I guess. But I didn’t think episode two was all that bad.” You tried to laugh through the sudden solemnity. Tess rolled her eyes and smiled, shaking her head as she reached for the bottle to refill her glass.“But it’s not fair that anybody had to see any of that. Ever.” You could hardly call yourself eloquent, but she knew what you meant.

“What are you doing here?” She took smaller sips of her drink this time.

“Same thing as you.”

“Why?”

You didn’t know. “Gotta do something.”

She nodded, “I want you with me.”

“Tess, I’m flattered—I am, but I don’t, I mean—”

“I want you to work with me.” She smiled into her glass, amused by your flustered response.

Oh. Oops.

“Oh. I...mean, ok. Yeah, ok.”

The door opened and you turned toward it out of impulse. The man that was suddenly in front of you was Tess’s age, you guessed. Dark hair greying, sleeves of his denim shirt rolled up to his elbows, face…mean.

Joel Miller in the flesh.

“Joel.” Tess was stern.

“What’s this?” Joel’s voice sent a shiver down your spine. You realized you had never spoken to him, never been spoken to by him. You’d only ever gawked from across the room. You felt yourself straighten your posture.

“Business. New teammate.” Tess took another sip from her glass.

Joel walked across the room, grabbing the liquor bottle and taking a swig from it before placing it back into a cabinet. He looked at you, giving you the up-and-down from where he stood at the counter.

“No.” He turned, walking into the bedroom.

Wide-eyed with concern and embarrassment, you looked at Tess.

“Be here at nine tomorrow. PM.” She said, finishing her drink and getting up to take her place on the couch.

You let yourself out.

~~~

It was obvious when you arrived the following night that Joel was still irked by your presence. Also obvious was that Tess had made him swallow his pride. She gave you your instructions at the kitchen table while you nodded along. Joel was statuesque and showed no signs of emotion or consideration towards her words.

And when Tess had explained that it would be you and Joel and only you and Joel, your brows furrowed and he still hadn’t budged.

“I’ve gotta be here,” she dictated, words coming out slowly as though she was speaking to children, “Don’t need all of us gone, it’d be too much attention. I’ll cover.”

“I can cover.” You blurted out, suddenly nervous about being alone with Joel.

“No.” Joel spoke for the first time all night. You shrunk back into yourself and kept listening.

“—Into the sewer, out to the east, all we need is booze, maybe some pharmaceutical shit if you can grab any.”

You probed, “Pharmaceuticals?”

“For us.” Tess had finished giving you the rundown, getting up from the table and walking into the bedroom, leaving you alone with Joel.

Saying nothing, he immediately started towards the door, leaving you to follow.

~~~

Contrary to popular belief, the sewers were not your ideal hang out. No matter how many times you went down there, it took days to scrub the feel and smell off of your body. If Joel cared about the dank surrounding, he didn’t show it.

When you popped the grate to crawl out, he moved to lift you slightly, but that was the only interaction you’d had on your journey. You wanted to get this over with, desperately wanted to be back in the company of anybody you could converse with. You made quick work of collecting what you needed and making your way back into tunnels below. Joel hadn’t said a word since he had objected to you taking watch, and you didn’t know why that bothered you so much; plenty of people didn’t speak to you, and you relished in it. You could walk around the QZ and not a soul would approach you—it was safer that way. Easier, too. But Joel’s silence made your head spin almost as much as his voice did. You kept looking at the way his biceps flexed under his shirt, the stern look on his face and the scar on his right temple.

Despite his cold exterior, you felt at ease in his presence. Sure, his domineering attitude was somewhat troubling to you, but his lack of emotions made you feel less paranoid. You weren’t as preoccupied with looking over your shoulder as you would’ve been otherwise thanks to his presence, and the gun slung over his shoulder acted as additional reassurance. If anything were to happen, you doubted he’d have any trouble dealing with it.

Maybe the smell of the sewer was making you delirious. Or maybe you were experiencing a genuine attraction to him—not that you expected a man that wouldn’t speak to you to feel any sort carnal desire for you. Even so, you found your mind wandering on the route back to the QZ; you could imagine him smoking the cigarettes your grandfather used to buy, Marlboro reds that he kept in a silver case. The thought of a cigarette hanging between Joel’s lips made you shiver, though you tried to tell yourself you were just cold from the clammy tunnels. You tried to hide the curious looks you shot at him, the way you studied his hands and thought up reasons as to why they would be so calloused. It could’ve been from the work he did now, but the thought of him pre-outbreak, working with his hands in the heat, wiping the sweat that dripped down his forehead...

You heard a clang somewhere along the route. Looking up, you could make out a shadow growing larger, then smaller. An unmistakable clicking followed.

Perhaps it was due to the unexpected encounter, or the daydreams still playing in the back of your head, but you found yourself frozen. If you could think straight, it would be embarrassing, but every noise was deafening, and you could feel your heartbeat in your skull.

And then you were on the floor. Joel’s full weight pinning you down before he rose up again and two shots rang out. You tried your best to regain your composure, blinking rapidly and staring into nothing. Joel looked down at you, face painted with his routine grimace only inches away from your own.

“This,” he breathed heavily, voice frayed, “is why I said no.”

But he waited for you to get up and brush yourself off before he kept walking.

“You’re a fuckin’ amateur.” He continued homewards.

~~~

You went with Tess after that. Nobody gave you an explanation—you didn’t need one. You had fucked up, made more apparent by the dismay painted on Joel’s face at your continued appearances in the apartment. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, let alone speak to him, maybe attempt to apologize. He didn’t want to hear it; you knew as much as he did. You couldn’t even crawl back like a guilty dog with your tail between your legs, because you knew you’d just get swatted by the morning paper. And, worse, despite the obvious friction, Joel was constantly on your mind. It was humiliating that a man who never spoke to you could be the focal point of your private moments. You thought of his hands entirely too often, his name slipping out between hushed gasps in the darkness of your bedroom.

Your breaking point was the night you walked into the apartment, opening the door to barking laughter that ceased on his end the moment you crossed the threshold. It was purposeful, the way he drew his mouth into a frown as soon as your line of sight had connected. Scowling, his eyes followed you. You felt heat rise in your face and pool in your stomach.

You scowled back. You wouldn’t endure his attitude anymore.

It went on like that for weeks. You figured that if you got under his skin he’d crack, forcing him to interact with you on a higher level—even if it was shouting at you.

Joel Miller was a bad man, a mean man. You knew as well as anybody, and it pissed you off as much as it turned you on.

~~~

You had let yourself into the apartment, flipping through an old magazine to pass the time you spent waiting for Tess.

When the door opened, your gaze met Joel’s. You turned back to skimming a story about Ewan McGregor, brows furrowed as you internally questioned what had happened to him in all this.

You started the countdown for the game you were playing: Who would break first? You glanced up once or twice to see where Joel was, and he remained in the same spot in front of the doorway, dark eyes fixed on you. You crossed your legs.

“Tess isn’t here.” He spoke, and you stopped your countdown, congratulating yourself as tonight’s winner.

“I know.”

“She’s not coming.”

“I’m reading.” You turned the page, eager to read about who was dating who in August of 2000.

Joel stayed in his spot by the door before making his way to the liquor cabinet—which you had discovered were most of the cabinets in this house. He put a glass in front of you and sat across, a glass of his own in his hand as he leaned forward to put his weight on the table.

“Jared Leto and Cameron Diaz.” You mused. Joel tipped back his glass, glaring at you. “Do you ever wonder if any of these people are still out there somewhere?”

“No.”

“Imagine killing some infected schmuck and realizing it was Ryan Gosling.” You smiled, enjoying your one-sided conversation. “I’d feel kinda bad…”

“’Least you’d be puttin’ him out of his misery.”

You looked up, surveying Joel, trying to find a trace of anything that could’ve prompted his sudden embrace of your goading. “Uhuh,” you raised an eyebrow, “just don’t think I could do it.”

“You scared?”

“Of you?”

“Of surviving.”

“No. Just of an infected Ryan Gosling.” You put down the magazine. “What’s your problem, Miller?”

“What’s yours?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Then neither do I.” He got up to refill his glass, and you had déjà vu, recalling how Tess had sat you down at the table months earlier to invite you into their professional lives. She had been much friendlier even then than Joel ever was.

“You can’t fight for shit.” You turned to see Joel leaning against the counter, a bottle of whiskey in hand. You tried not to let your frustration at him show. “Hard to get good at this shit when you freeze at the first sign of trouble.”

“Shut up.” You brushed him off. You picked up the magazine again, trying to find your place.

“You know I’m right.” He drank from the bottle. For some reason you couldn’t stop yourself from standing up and facing him.

“What?”

“Y’know you can’t fight for shit. Couldn’t to save your own life. You know that. I know that. Why’d’ya think Tess always goes with you?” He put the bottle down and crossed his arms. Wrath boiled in your chest; you wanted to rationalize, tell yourself that he was mad you were winning the game he made you start playing so he opted to hit below the belt; but, Jesus, he had gotten you where it hurt. You had long prided yourself in having the ability to survive, taking care of yourself and doing whatever it took for you to see the next day. For him to waltz into the space you had found some form of comfort in, where Tess drank with and felt for you, to imply that you were a failure—just some fucking kid with a knife?

You put as much weight behind the punch you threw towards him as you could muster, aiming at for his face in the hopes that a black eye might help him register your dedication to staying alive. He barely moved, grabbing your wrist to stop any real strength your blow might’ve had.

“You can do better.” Joel provoked you further. You were breathing hard but not heavy, staring into the eyes of the man you wished you could see for the evil everybody said he was. “Do better.” He continued. You grabbed him by the collar, nose to nose; you could smell the liquor on his breath, and you were sure he could smell it on yours. You were far from drunk, and the seething anger sobered you more than a cold shower ever could.

So you had no excuse for kissing him, which is probably why it was a quick peck, testing the waters and feeling as though you owed it to yourself as much as to him to see if this was one-sided.

“That’s better.” He snaked an arm around your waist and cupped the opposite hand over the back of your head. You didn’t say a word, barely breathed at his response, before you attached yourself to him again. You forgot all about testing the waters and immediately dove in; you kissed him with an open mouth, tongue, teeth and all. He licked into you, pulling you in closer. He separated from you to speak.

“Bed.” Forever and always a man of few words. You stumbled over each other as he pulled you towards the bedroom, neither of you bothering to say anything else as you were pushed onto the bed. Joel straddled your chest, looking down at you and undoing his belt, brown eyes blown out with complete exasperation and lust.

“Y’been botherin’ me since day one,” he pulled his cock from the confines of his jeans, “bad fuckin’ attitude.” He stroked himself, still looking at you.

“Doesn’t seem to be bothering you now.” You taunted him, reaching up to wrap both hands around him and sitting up as best you could to lick across the tip of his cock. He pushed his hips forward and you took the initiative to swallow as much of him as you could; no small feat, considering his size. You managed half before you gagged. He just laughed.

“Gonna be quiet ‘round me, might as well put yourself to good use while you’re doin’ it.” He threw his head back as you licked circles over the head of his cock, hand working every inch you couldn’t push past your gag reflex. You made a noise in response to his words, though it was unclear if you meant it as an agreement or a rebuttal. You pulled yourself off of him, placing a kiss on the vein that ran up the underside of his cock. You looked up at Joel, content with your work, his breathing heavy. His hand came up to your jaw, prying your mouth open and sliding his thumb inside. You closed your lips around it and sucked, you heard him groan. He took his thumb out after a few more seconds.

“Open.” He placed his wet thumb on your chin. You opened wide, sticking out your tongue slightly, expecting him to give you his cock again. Instead, he spit directly into your mouth, before pressing on your lower jaw to force it closed. “Swallow.” You did as you were told. He shuffled himself further down your body, leaning down to kiss you, pushing his tongue between your lips before he continued moving downwards; he pulled the buttons of your flannel apart, kissing and sucking on the skin he revealed before licking over the burgeoning bruises. You thanked whatever God was out there that you had given up bras so long ago, as if it was all in anticipation of this moment. Joel’s mouth reached the waistband of your jeans, and he continued placing open mouthed kisses over your stomach as he undid your button and fly, pulling the fabric down your legs and revealing your panties. He bent forward into you, pressing his face into your clothed core, his nose and open mouth fanning hot breath across you.

“Need a good lay.” You weren’t sure if he was talking about you or himself, though he answered your silent question soon after; “That’ll keep you from bitchin’ over everythin’.” He licked a straight line over your folds, tasting the tangy wet that seeped through the fabric of your underwear. You let out a shrill whine when his tongue danced over your clit, and reached down to shed yourself of the final layer of clothing that covered your bottom half. He caught your wrist and pushed it aside. “No,” He looked up at you as he licked over you again, “been playin’ your fuckin’ game for weeks. S’my turn. Don’t get greedy, now.”

You moaned when he released your wrist from his grasp, only to begin rubbing circles over you. “Pl—ease, Joel!” You arched your back, lifting yourself up to him in an attempt to gain more friction.

“Say it again.”

“Please,” it was barely audible, “please, Joel. Please, please…” Your eyes were hooded as you begged for more. Either he was satisfied by your attempt or took pity on you for coming undone over practically nothing, but he slid the panties down your thighs and threw them over his shoulder. He admired your naked cunt, ghosting a finger over your slit and collecting what you’d already released. He leaned back down and attached his lips to your clit, pushing his finger into you and bending it upwards. You gasped, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging, earning a satisfied grunt from him. He rhythmically sucked your clit in time with the movements of his finger, adding another slowly and then increasing the pace. Over and over, he brushed the spongey spot inside of you that made you clench around him, tugging his hair tighter.

“Go—ing to, Joel, fuck! Joel—!” You were panting, fist gripping his hair.

“No.”

“Please!” You were trembling.

“No.” He was unforgiving, absolutely ruthless as he fucked his fingers into you faster, licking tight and fast over your clit. You were close to tears now, grabbing onto the pillow underneath you to stabilize yourself. You were sweating, and he was the one doing all the work, but, Christ, it took effort to hold off on cumming when he was knuckle deep in your pussy like that.

“Now.” He said, pushing up against the spot you needed him to touch most, sucking hard on your swollen clit. You all but yelled, body turning to jelly, your eyes screwed tight—all while Joel continued his ministrations. He stared at you open mouthed as you trembled. He slowed once you stopped shaking, sliding his fingers out of you and licking them clean.

“Still gonna act like a bitch now?” He peppered kisses over your thighs.

“F…fuck y—ou, Joel Miller.” You wheezed out. He laughed, standing up to remove his shirt and trousers.

“’F’I’d known you wanted it I’d’ve done it a month ago.” He crawled over you, pressing kisses into your neck.

“Fuck you.” You finally caught your breath, and he pushed himself up enough to meet you face to face. “You’re a bad person. Everybody in the QZ knows you’re a bad man.”

“Then why are you in my bed?” He was half sincere.

“You tell me.”

“Can see the way you look at me. Terrible at keepin’ secrets. ‘Nother reason you need someone to protect you out there.” He scoffed, and you pulled him down for a kiss. Though bruising in force, you were gentler with each other. Neither of you felt inclined to use teeth this time around.

Joel pushed himself up and onto his knees, sliding his cock over your clit and pushing his tip into you slightly. You whimpered, trying to wordlessly urge him to sink into you.

“Ask me.”

“Please.”

“More.”

“Please, Joel, need it…”

“Need what, sweet thing?” You closed your eyes, savoring the nickname as it rolled off his tongue.

“Need your cock. Joel, please, I need you to fu—” He cut you off with one sharp thrust, pushing his full length into you and bottoming out. You felt your eyes roll back in your head, and Joel brought a hand down to rest on the side of your face.

“Atta girl,” his mouth hung open as he began shallowly thrusting into you, “take it all, darlin’.”

You whined, hands scrambling to touch him wherever you could reach; his shoulders, his chest, his thigh if you stretched down a bit further. It only spurred him on.

“Fuckin’ pathetic.” He pushed his hips into yours, attempting to get even deeper inside of your warm, inviting pussy. “Been such a bitch with me ‘nd now you’re so eager, huh? Li’l slut, needed t’get fucked s’all?” All you could do was let out a wonton moan, loving how he stretched you. “Gonna be nice from now on?” You couldn’t respond, could only think the word no as he sped up, sliding all the way out and all the way back into your cunt. “Answer me, girl.”

“F—uck, n—no!” You stammered.

He brought a hand down harsh on your clit, pulling out so just the tip of his cock was seated shallowly inside of you. You squeezed around it. “Don’t be a bitch,” he spanked your pussy again, “tell me the truth.”

Tears pricked your eyes in frustration, and you nodded your head yes.

“Words.”

“Yes! I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, wo—won’t give you attitude, Joel, I—I won’t be such a bitch, I pr—omise.”

“I like you a li’l bitchy,” he slid his cock back into you, resuming the punishing pace, punching up into you. “Like my pretty li’l bitch. Like this tight fuckin’ pussy.” He flattened himself on top of you, chest pressing into yours with every breath he took and every rough shove of his cock against your cervix. The slight pain was worth the abounding pleasure. He reached under your midriff, sliding his hands between the flannel you still half-wore to meet your skin, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you into him further. You wrapped your own arms around his waist, completely lost in him.

“Y’needed this as much as I did,” he groaned into your ear, “tell me, sweet thing.”

“Needed—oh, fuck, I needed it.” You whispered against the skin of his shoulder. He managed to reach a hand down between you, fingers finding your clit. You buried your face into him, suddenly very aware of what was happening; your daydreams coming to fruition, winning the game in a manner leagues above what you had hoped for. The attention was staggering. The tears you had held back during his earlier taunting escaped, spilling over your cheeks and smudging into the sweat on Joel’s skin. It was overwhelming in the best way. Anxiety inducing in the worst.

“So good, being so—so fuckin’ good, darlin’.” He was getting sloppy with his thrusts, rhythm failing as he neared his own high. He pulled away from you, shifting positions to hold you so that you could be face to face. You couldn’t count how many times today you had found yourself staring at Joel Miller. “You’re so good.” A fully earnest sentiment, punctuated by every inch of his cock. “Want you to cum, need you to cum for me again.” He was practically begging, words coming out in moaned whispers. He kissed the tear streaks over your cheek and down to your lips, the wiry hair of his short mustache rubbing against your top lip in a manner that made your skin instantly sore, but it felt too good to be connected to him like this to complain at all. He continued his movements, fingers running over your clit at a heightened pace and cock throbbing inside of you. You squeezed around his cock, arms squeezing his torso, and you felt yourself coming undone.

“There you go. Feel you fuckin’ squeezin’ me. Gimme one more, sweetheart.” You were pushed over the edge, once again cumming for Joel Miller in a way you had only ever imagined. He held you tight, letting you wrap yourself around him while you came, whispering his name and tangling your fingers in his hair. He managed a few more deep thrusts before pulling out and spilling across your stomach, chanting your name. Your breathing was labored, and Joel admired how he had painted you with his spend.

He stood up, walking out of the room, and you felt the urge to cry again, feeling suddenly abandoned after something so new and intimate. But he walked back in with a threadbare towel, wiping down your stomach and the wet between your thighs. You were both silent as he finished cleaning you up. He exited once more to rid himself of the towel before reuniting with you in bed. He lay beside you for a moment before turning to hold you. You turned to face him.

“It’s a shame you wiped me clean. Wanted a taste.” You failed to keep your tone even and unbothered, the crack in your voice apparent as you tried your hand at humor.

“Next time.” You looked up to find him staring at you once again. His usual scowl replaced by something softer. You fell back into a semi-comfortable silence.

“I am a bad man.” He spread his fingers out between your shoulder blades.

“Joel—”

“I am,” the words came out harsher than he had meant them to, “I’ve done bad shit just to get by. It’s fuckin’ embarrassin’ to kill someone just to see another day of this. Bad’s an understatement.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m hard on you cause I don’t want you gettin’ hurt. Don’t wanna be out with you if somethin’ happens. Don’t wanna be away from you if somethin’ happens. Wouldn’t be able to—”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know. S’fuckin’ awful. Shouldn’t have’ta fend for yourself.” He swallowed.

“Have to to survive, Joel. Made it this far.”

“No,” he countered, “shouldn’t have to survive. You should be livin’. Shouldn’t need’a run with a crowd like me ‘nd Tess.”

“Don’t you think we’re a little past that? I’d be doin’ the same thing even if I didn’t have you two to do it with.”

“I’ve seen how you freeze up.”

“I knew you’d be there.” You nearly snapped, astonished that after all this he was still hung up over the first run you did with him, despite the effortless shots he had taken. Even more astonished that he hadn’t realized that despite the external bitterness he had fashioned and the constant stream of “no” that left his mouth, you knew even then that he’d keep you protected. He looked away from you, and you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, trying to show him that for all your bite you were capable of being docile when the moment called for it.

“Shouldn’t wanna hang around bad people.” Joel’s eyes looked into the nothing of the distance as he muttered. “Shouldn’t have to risk everything just to do bad things.”

“Good men die, too, Joel,” You were firm, “I wanna be…” You trailed off. He looked back to you and traced a finger over your collar bone, admiring the marks that had formed from his kisses. “Wanna be around you. With you.” You saw a faint smile creep across his face.

“Not a good man?”

You scoffed, “Never a good man. Wouldn’t know how to handle me.” He laughed softly. You allowed his hands to roam over your body while you mirrored his movements, tracing your fingers over the scars that littered his chest. “Come with me on the next run.” You weren’t asking.

For the first time in 20-odd years, Joel was unable to say no.

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #Joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction

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wongyuuu · 9 months

Text

Willow | 02

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader genre: angst, marriage of convenience word count: 5.2k summary: seungcheol always knew that he was going to marry you, but things only get harder once he does (or in which seungcheol is just really dumb and doesn't know how to show his feelings)

part one | part two | part three (final) | drabble

Seungcheol functioned like clockwork.

Every day he woke up at the exact same time, his alarm was obnoxiously loud — especially considering how much of a light sleeper he was —, showered, cocked the same breakfast, and left the apartment precisely at 7:45.

You don’t remember him being that punctual but your best guess was that grown-up Seungcheol took his life and responsibilities much more seriously than teenage him. And he probably had a lot on his plate too. He was set to take over the firm once his dad retired, something that wouldn’t happen any time soon, but it always felt like something he was being prepared for it.

And being honest, you couldn’t say that you knew this version of Seungcheol, not really. He was hot and cold with you, mostly cold, so it was hard to know where you stood in your relationship with him.

Truth was, that had a lot to do with you as well. You weren’t trying to make things easier for the two of you, if anything it felt like you were trying your best to make it as hard as possible — even if that wasn’t your intention at all.

While your husband was always perfectly on time, you were always running around late for every single appointment you could ever make. People from work already knew that if there was a student scheduled for 10:00h, you’d probably get there a little later. It really wasn’t on purpose, you tried your best to be on time, even tried to follow along with Seungcheol’s agenda. But it never worked out. So instead of being on time and having everything ready, all it did was make you nervous and even more late.

You also didn’t follow a schedule for your day. Every day, on your way home, you made a little detour, never failing in finding a new place to go or a different restaurant to try.

At the end of the day, you and Seungcheol lived separate lives, barely talking to each other, or even acknowledging each other. Most of it was just niceties because both of you felt the need to do so. It would have felt even more awkward to walk past each other in the hallway and don’t even say good morning. Anyone who looked at the two of you would think that you were just roommates, not actually married. Hell, not even friends.

If anything, the house arrangement contract you wrote made things even worse — if that was even possible.

After signing it, with a look of complete disbelief on his face, Seungcheol went to his room. His words “my own wife is telling me that she wants to date other men while saying that I should date other women” still rang in your head. You didn’t mean for it to sound like that, you didn’t want to push him to do anything at all. Your only thought was that since the marriage was fake, there was no love between you, there was no reason for you to be stuck to each other and live completely without happiness.

There wasn’t anything either of you could do in that regard, there was no way of canceling or ending the marriage, so all you wanted to do was give him a way to find something that could bring him a little bit of joy. If said joy came in the shape of another woman, then so be it.

After that, you never talked again. And he barely showed any emotion at all around you, no reaction. He didn’t complain or seemed fazed when you almost let the dirty water you used to clean your brushes fall on his desk and ruin, well, everything. He still followed the rules you created, almost religiously. Whenever he cooked, he made enough for you, if he was the one doing laundry he was careful not to damage any of your clothes.

Living like that felt oddly lonely.

You were used to being by yourself, having your own space. The last time you shared an apartment with someone, or more specifically, a room, was when you were still in college with Yeda. But the thought of living with someone else but never actually seeing them…

You thought that once you were married you would have someone to share your life with, even if that someone turned out to be Seungcheol. Naively, you figured that all of those years of your childhood spent together — even if those were also forced on both of you —, would play a part in making sure that cohabitation was a possibility.

We could still try to be friends, was what you told yourself.

Because your husband wasn't all that bad, to begin with. You might not see eye to eye on many things but you knew that he was a good person. You had hoped that, maybe, living in the same place, seeing each other every day, would change something about your relationship with him. And in a way, it did. It just wasn't what you expected. Instead of growing closer, you couldn’t be further apart.

You glanced at your phone again, the bright numbers seemed to be mocking you.

It was past 3 am and there was still no sign of Seungcheol. When 9 pm rolled around you assumed he had stayed at the office a little bit longer, finishing up whatever it was. Then 9 became midnight and staying in bed wasn’t something you could stand anymore so you moved to the living room, a book and a blanket in hand. But reading too was hard, the words were all floating around in your mind and none of it actually made any sense. Your mind was too focused on the fact that Seungcheol wasn't home yet to focus on the story.

Another hour went by and there was still no sign of him. The world outside the apartment was quiet and no car could be heard on the street.

The truth was that you were worried about him. There were little bells inside your mind telling you that something must have happened to him because that just wasn’t Seungcheol. It wasn’t him when he was young and it also wasn’t him as an adult. He wasn’t the kind of person who would disappear without telling anyone, so you were sure that there was someone who knew where he was.

The most obvious choice would be to call him and it would have been a great plan if you had his number at all.

The realization that you knew nothing at all about your husband made a sickening feeling slowly spread through your body.

It was so stupid to not have his number and it made absolutely no sense because he was your husband. Even if you were a fake wife, shouldn’t you at least be able to communicate with him if needed? Sometimes people have emergencies that couldn’t wait for their significant other to get home — or in your case never get home at all.

Option number two was to go through the things in his office. He should have at least a business card or something, anything at all, with a phone number. You thought about calling your parents or even his parents. How would you explain that even though you kept telling them that everything was fine, that things were finally falling into place, you didn’t have your husband's number? And never mind knowing someone who worked with him. Seokmin, what that his name? Seokmin probably knew where Seungcheol was but then again, there was no way to reach him either.

You stood up to cross the room, your blanket and book both forgotten on the couch when you heard the sound of keys being put in the lock and a second later the door was pushed open.

Seungcheol stood precariously on his legs, an arm over Seokmin’s shoulders, while the younger one tried his best to stop his friend from falling face-first on the floor.

“Cheol” you breathed in relief and rushed towards him, your hands reached for his cheeks, forcing him to look at you “Cheol…”

He opened his eyes for a second and a drunken smile, or at least an attempt at a smile.

“Ah, wife! Precisely who I wanted to see” his words were slurred, almost in sync with his body as it swayed from side to side.

Seungcheol stepped away from Seokmin and dropped all of his weight onto you. Your arms immediately circled his waist as you bent your knees a little, trying to hold him up.

"Sorry," Seokmin said as he tried to pull Seungcheol from you "I've never seen him get this drunk before, I didn't think it possible"

Neither did you, but then again there was a lot about Seungcheol that you didn't know.

"It's fine" you moved your feet back until you felt the couch behind your knees and with Seokmin's help you were able to get Seungcheol to sit "Thank you for bringing him home"

Seokmin smiled at you, tightly. He wanted to say more but he knew that if he did he would be butting in your relationship with Seungcheol and his friend would probably give him hell for it. Drunk Seungcheol was a problem — in the form of a cute lovesick oversized puppy, as he has recently discovered —, but sober Seungcheol would bite his head off without as much as a warning.

"I should have brought him home earlier, before he drank himself stupid"

You shook your head and pushed the hair out of Seungcheol’s forehead. You couldn't even bring yourself to be mad at him, not really. Before he got home you felt this pain in your stomach, telling you that there was something incredibly wrong, that he was in some kind of trouble. But the only real trouble was the fact he had, as Seokmin said, drank himself stupid.

"Honestly, it's okay. I'm just glad he's home safe. Again, thank you for that"

"I wish I could say it was no trouble" he laughed lightly "Do you need help with anything?"

You shook your head.

"I got it from here"

Seokmin opened the door and let himself out. He stopped for a second as if remembering something and reached for the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a business card. He didn't say anything as put it by your keyes.

You realized then that he knew. Seokmin knew about your relationship with Seungcheol, or lack of it. He just smiled and closed the door. You stayed frozen in place, looking at the door, as if somehow it would grant you answers.

Though you had told Yeda the true nature of your marriage, you never expected Seungcheol to do the same and to Seokmin, of all people. Not that you really knew him but just based on his interaction with Seungcheol on your wedding day, Seokmin was the last person you would expect to know the truth.

"y/n," Seungcheol said and you turned to him, "I think I want to throw up"

His warning was almost too late, there was no time to get him to the bathroom or for you to get him a bucket, but just enough for him to grab on the flower vase in front of the couch. You turned away from him, knowing that the smell of vomit wouldn't bother you, but seeing him throw up actually would.

"I'm really sorry"

It had been so long since you last heard him talk like that, almost childlike. The Seungcheol you knew liked to pose as this big, bad guy, but in reality, he was more of a softy that got things done. He could pout for days if he wanted.

Not only did he sound childlike, but he also looked like a child that messed up. His eyes were almost helpless as he looked at the floor, then his shoes, and finally his suit jacket.

"Don't worry about it" You reached a hand for him. His eyes focused on your hand, almost mesmerized, before his long fingers wrapped around yours "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed"

You helped him off his jacket and held both of his hands as he allowed you to pull him up from the couch. He pushed his shoes off once you reached the hall leading up to his room. This time, instead of putting all of his weight on you, Seungcheol used the wall to steady himself, still his arm was around your shoulder and he leaned a little towards you.

You wanted to ask him what happened, what made him want to drink so much. More than anything you wanted to know why he didn't warn you in advance.

Over the four months that you lived together, though there was no real interaction between the two of you, Seungcheol always found ways to talk to you. At first, there was a yellow post-it stuck to your door. They were simple notes. I made breakfast, or dinner with your parents tonight, I'll pick you up at 7. And sometimes they were more caring, those, you came to realize, were always blue. Do you still hate spinach? just in case, i didn't add any or let me know if there's anything you want to eat and even i canceled dinner tonight with my mom, you looked tired last night, you should rest this weekend.

He always made sure to tell you if he was going to be late, always. So not knowing where he was… you hated it.

Seungcheol didn't complain when you pushed him down on the mattress and undid his tie, later moving on to his shirt and then using it to clean his mouth

You didn't realize but Seungcheol's eyes were on you the entire time. Despite the alcohol, his mind was hyper-aware of your finger touching his skin, on the way you kept biting your lips as if doing your best to hold back from cussing him out.

"Can you shower on your own?" Seuncheol made a noise that you could only translate as a no "Do you want to brush your teeth?"

You probably already knew the answer to that too but still had to ask. His eyes were almost closed and he stayed sitting by some sort of miracle.

"I don't think I should stand up again" You nodded at him and turned around, you could at least get him to use some mouthwash before he fell asleep and maybe get him to drink a glass of water, but he held your hand and lightly pulled you back — not in a forcible way, just to get your attention "I don't like it when you make that face"

His voice was so quiet, barely above a whisper.

"It's the same face you did on our wedding day, when you walked down the aisle. You looked so pretty but sad, and angry too. Why were you so angry?"

You looked at his eyes for a second before looking away. They were all too demanding, wanting more than you were willing to give him. Your wedding day, believe it or not, wasn't a day you thought about too often and when you did think about it felt like years had gone by. The night you decided to suggest the contract was the one you thought of more often, with much more sadness.

"I wasn't angry"

Your voice was quiet as pulled the duvet for him to get under. In silence, Seungcheol removed his pants and laid down. He let go of your hand for only a second before holding it again.

"I was scared and worried, like today. You were gone for a really long time and I didn't know where you were. I couldn't even call you"

Having those thoughts around your mind was so different from actually saying them out loud, saying them to Seungcheol. If the night taught you one thing was that you didn't know anything at all about your husband. Everything you thought you knew was wrong. But if you could make a guess, judging by the way his eyes seemed to be a little more focused and his words a little less slurred, it was probably okay to say that he was sobering up. Maybe throwing up was all he needed.

"Our marriage is just so weird. My wife told me to sleep with other people" he laughed and pulled his hand away, closing his eyes "It's almost like we're friends with benefits but without the friendship part nor the benefits. We're just a piece of paper. If you think about it, we're nothing really"

Tomorrow, you suddenly promised yourself, tomorrow will be different and we will start this all over again.

The second he said yes to drinking with Seokmin, Seungcheol knew that he would regret it. The first time he went to a bar with the younger one, Seuncheol told him all about his fake marriage. So, of course, the second time couldn't be much different. He regretted it for more reasons than he cared to admit.

The entire night he behaved like a pubescent thirteen year old complaining about the fact that his crush didn't like him back. He was stupid enough to tell Seokmin all about the contract you came up with, to which his friend laughed hysterically. Because you must be the shitties husband in the history of the world if your wife has already given up on you like this.

And if that was what you thought of him, if you saw him as the worst husband in the history of the world, could he blame you? On your wedding way, that is known to be a day that everyone remembers, he was a complete idiot to you. No excuse he could ever come up with would be good enough. Because, truth be told, his behavior then had been inexcusable. In your shoes, he would have probably done much worse. You had shown him mercy.

And kept showing him mercy, even after months of him being silent and barely being in the apartment. He used work as an excuse often to get him out of situations in his daily life. He never thought that he would use it as a way to stay clear of you.

Because Seungcheol did work a lot but he also knew how to take time off. His job was important and his clients too were important, but he learned that he should have time to himself. and now that he was married, he needed to have time for you too. Even if it was just to stay home with you. He should have done that but instead, he found ways to be at the office until later than he usually did, took clients that he normally wouldn’t, and did the most stupid thing of all: went to a bar with Seokmin.

And the worse part of it all was that he remembered every single thing that he did the night before. He wished he was one of those people who get drunk and just forget about all the embarrassing things they did. But he wasn’t.

Seungcheol remembered being carried home by Seokmin, who again was having too much fun laughing at him, he remembers throwing up, the way you held on to him. But more than anything he remembers the way you said his name, Cheol, ever so quietly, when he walked in, the way your eyes searched his face as if looking for anything that could be wrong with him — other than being drunk.

He hated that he talked about being friends with you while he was drunk. Hated that you didn’t get to hear him while he was sober because he had prepared a whole speech for you, almost as if he was going to court and needed to plead his case.

He had plans to talk to you and maybe that was why he went out with Seokmin, to get his friend to push in the direction he wanted to go. Because truth be told, Seungcheol was scared.

For over ten years of his life, he knew that he would marry you. So had time to think about it, and ponder on every possibility that could happen. Because he had been in love with you for longer than that, but not once he was allowed to act on his feelings. At first, it was because of your brother, then because of himself, and then finally when you closed a door on his face — metaphorically speaking.

And when he finally had a chance to do so, he fucked up. There was no other way to say it. The two of you were already married, so what was the worst thing that could happen? For you to reject him? That was already happening.

He hated that he lost the chance to charm you from the get-go. And then again for months. He couldn’t miss the chance yet again.

Seungcheol pushed himself up on his elbows, tentatively opening his eyes. He expected the room to be filled with light but he was surprised to see that the only source of it came from the half opened door. He never closed his blinds before going to bed, he never felt the need to as he usually got up as soon as the sun was up, and he certainly hadn’t closed them the night before going to bed.

However, no amount of darkness could make him look past you, sleeping in a weird position in the armchair in front of his bed.

Seungcheol, who was usually a light sleeper, had no idea that you came into his room a couple of times during the night until you finally convinced yourself that it was okay for you to sleep in there because you were too afraid that we would throw up during the night; he had no idea that you got up in the middle of the night to pull the duvet over his body.

He knew nothing about those things, yet he felt overwhelmed at the sight of you.

For a second he wanted nothing more than to stay sitting there and just watch you. As creepy as it might be, it was the first time he felt like the two of you were more than just two people who shared the same apartment.

He could only hope that the night before had changed something for you too, because now there was no way he would just let things go back to how they were.

You were worried about Seuncheol. Had been the entire day. You woke up to the sound of the shower running and the sight of his empty bed in front of you. You left as soon as you woke up, deciding that he was probably way too hungover to want to talk to you then.

So instead of staying at home, wondering when it would be a good time talk to talk to him, you went out. There was nothing for you to do, no place to go and Yeda already had plans with her boyfriend so she couldn’t meet you.

You indulged yourself, going to the mall and getting a few new brushes and paint — not that you needed anything, but a mind filled with weird thoughts and a credit card with more limit than necessary could be the ruin of someone. But going there was somewhat of a bad idea, considering how many couples there were around.

All of them looked in love, happy to be around each other. You couldn’t help but wonder if it could be the same for you and Seungcheol. If you had talked to him in the months leading up to the wedding, would things be different now? If he hadn’t been a complete idiot on your wedding day, would things be different?

There were many answers to those questions, but none of them would matter. There was no way to go back to the past, to redo things. So all you had was the present, as it was, and a chance to change everything.

On your wedding day, your dad told you that he didn’t love your mother when they got married. He said that the love he felt for her was built over the years they stayed together. And you wanted to try that.

Because you never really believe in love at first sight, the idea of it was just too irrational for you. You believed that curiosity, attraction, lust, and enchantment could all be feelings that are awoken in someone at first sight. But love? That was a complicated feeling, that no three seconds look ever give you.

Because you wanted a love that was constantly warm. Too hot or too cold would burn you all the same. You didn’t want a relationship that was all over the place, with too many ups and downs.

And maybe, Seungcheol could that someone for you.

You had been standing in front of Seungcheol’s room for the past five minutes, building up the courage no knock on his door, had already raised your hand twice but was yet to finally do it. Seungcheol’s drunker words mirrored your thoughts, so you had to talk to him.

You took a deep breath before you forced your fingers to tap lightly against his door. You didn’t wait for his answer and stuck your head inside.

He was sitting on his bed, a book open over his chest while he scrolled through his phone. That was a scene you had seen many times while you were a teenager. It was easy to remember an 18-year-old Seungcheol lying on the couch, in that exact position.

“Seungcheol?” he looked at you surprised, he hadn’t heard you knock on his door “Come out, let’s have dinner”.

Without a word, Seungcheol followed you to the kitchen. His surprised eyes were focused on the food on the table. He clearly remembered you telling him that you didn’t cook, your mom said the same thing too.

“You cooked?” he sounded a little nervous, as if unsure that he should be asking.

He looked cute, you decided then. There was this childish look in his eyes, half in wonder, half in expectancy.

Seungcheol was waiting for something to go wrong again. The last time you had gotten him dinner was the night everything went to shit. What if this time you told him that you wanted a divorce because of the shit he pulled the night before? He was honestly ready to beg you not to do that.

“No, I got it on the way home” you waved a hand and he laughed and you felt your cheeks get warm “Are you feeling better? I left before we could talk”

He smiled and nodded at you, looking at the food in front of him. There was nothing special about it, it was something that he could have cooked, but still, his heart did a little flip inside his chest.

“I’m sorry about last night. I swear I don’t drink like that all the time. Or at all” his own cheeks got hot “I’m sorry you had to clean up after me”

“It’s fine, really. Yeda was my roommate in college and I wish she would throw up in a vase. I think I cleaned that dorm more than anyone else that used it before or after us”

Yeda was a good friend, but she took the idea of being the life of the party a little too far sometimes. That alone was the reason you found yourself going back to your parents' house almost every weekend. You had convinced yourself that the two-hour drive was worth it, if it meant that you didn’t have to clean vomit again.

The two of you eat in silence as you tried to find a good way to start a conversation with him. Why was it so hard? You had no trouble talking with him when you were teenagers. Sure, there was a lot of bickering but that was still better than nothing at all.

“Is everything okay with you? You’re not eating” he said quietly. the food in front of him was almost gone while yours had barely been touched “You don’t like the food?”

You shook your head and set down your fork.

“I’m a little nervous, so it’s hard to eat” he didn’t need to ask to know what you were nervous about “Can we talk, please?”

In silence, the two of you put the dishes away and the food leftovers on the fridge. There was no way either of you would keep eating so it was better not to waste any time.

Seungcheol’s mind was running a thousand miles an hour. He was certain, 100%, that would you ask for a divorce. He knew that you couldn’t do it. The rational part of his brain told him that it wasn’t an option at all. But the irrational side? It didn’t care. All the worse possible scenarios were playing in his mind.

The first one, as he expected, would be for you to ask for a divorce; the second one would be you telling him that there was someone in your life, someone you were in love with.

That thought alone was enough to make his heart ache. You being in love with someone else was too much for him.

“Oh my god! Will you stop looking at me like that? I'm not going to bite your head off! I want to talk with my husband. Millions of people do that every day. I'm sure millions of people are probably doing that right now”

He smiled then. That was exactly how remembered you, that was the you he wanted to see the most on your wedding day, when he talked shit and you talked right back at him. Because there was no way that he would get to have the last word in a conversation like that.

And it was also the first time you addressed him as your husband, at least in front of him. The first time you said it out loud.

But in that moment you confused his feelings for fear when all that he felt was some sort of joy. How borderline pathetic was it that he felt happy over the simple fact that his wife acknowledged his existence?

“The things you said last night… I agree with them. Our marriage won't last very long, we won't last very long, if we continue this way. We will be broken beyond repair if we don't do something right now. So we have to change, we have to, at the very least, be friends but we will never get there if we keep going this way”

That wasn't exactly what you wanted to say but you hoped that Seungcheol would understand, wished that he would read into your sloppy and messy words. He was a lawyer, after all, it was what he did for a living. Right?

“Let's go out once a week then, sort of like a date? But not really” you shook your hand and covered your face, you felt like a teenager asking the guy you had a crush on a date “Just so we can get used to each other again, be friends and all that”

Seungcheol pressed his lips, trying his best to suppress the smiles that threatened to take over his entire face. With a short nod and shake of hands, you and Seungcheol settled down on another agreement.

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