#I'm sorry the ending of this chapter makes ME want to beat him up

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[deanwinchestersbabygirll]

Sam Winchester, Hero

-warnings// angst, fluff, SMUT, MENTION OF SA!!

-lil summery// kind of my spin on the pilot episode, based when Sam’s in college, best friends to lovers trope

Sam x reader

Part 2

word count// 3330

(Gif from Pinterest)

Your eyes burned as you continued to read the same line over and over, exhaustion threatening to take over your body any minute "hey you okay?" You looked towards the soft voice to see your best friend Sam, you nodded "yeah I'm just trying to finish this chapter I can't hand in another late assignment" you said stretching your limbs trying to wake yourself up 

Sam chuckled "it's after midnight, you’re gonna end up face down on your desk if you don't get to bed soon" you rolled your tired eyes playfully "I’ll be fine I'll just be another half hour then I'm done, you head on home, I'll be right behind you" Sam shook his head "not a chance this place isn't safe at night I'll wait for you" he said going to sit next to you "Sam sweetie, I'll be fine, our apartment is a ten minute walk at most, plus you know I can handle myself, I've kicked your ass plenty of times" you joked making him smile 

"Alright but I want you to knock on my door when your back home so I know your home safe, I'm giving you forty five minutes and if ur not home by then I'll be back here to haul your  ass home" he said firmly, he was always the worrier, that's what you loved about him the most

"I promise, scouts honour" you promised him with the scouts symbol he chuckled as he moved toward the door "see you at home Y/N" he called as the doors closed leaving you alone in the library, You rubbed your tired red eyes and got back to work, your blinking getting slower until all you could see was darkness and a warm fuzzy feeling take over your body.

Almost an hour later you awoke with a start "oh son of a bitch!" You exclaimed quietly looking at your watch, in a panic you shoved your stuff in your bag quickly before running out the big mahogany doors and taking off in a speed walk down the dark campus towards you and Sam's apartment, hoping he hadn't left yet

You were moments away from sanctuary before you heard the sound of loud foot steps behind you, your heart plummeting to your stomach as you picked up your own pace, you were less than a minute away, the footsteps got closer and your heart was beating a hundred beats per minute

The person behind you grabbed your arm roughly turning you around to face a tall brute of a man, glaring at you his lips twisted in a dirty smile "where you heading beautiful?" He asked his grip on your arm tightening making you wince "none of your business now get your damn hand off me you jackass!" You exclaimed trying to pull your arm away 

"Watch yourself now... the nicer you are to me the better I'll make you feel" the man said licking his greasy lips, your stomach turned and you regretted not leaving with Sam earlier. 

Tears pricked at your eyes as you tried to fight him off "if you touch me I swear I'll-" you started to say before a loud laugh cut you off "you'll what baby? Look at me then look at you, who's got the upper hand here?" he mocked before a third voice interrupted him 

"I do!" The voice said and a fist was slamming against your attackers face knocking the brute out, screaming you turned to see your saviour as the tears streamed down you face, you saw Sam looking back at you concern written all over his face "c'mon let's go" he said quickly taking your bag from you and pulling you tightly to his side making your worries instantly vanish as you cuddled into him 

Sam unlocked the door with his free hand, never letting go of you, he locked the door instantly as soon as you stepped inside "are you okay? I knew I shouldn't have fucking left" Sam told you his voice cracking slightly as his hands cradled your face in them as his green eyes scanned for any visible injuries.

"I'm okay Sammy" you assured him but he shook his head, his shaggy hair bouncing as he did "I'm so sorry I didn't get there sooner, I shouldn't have left you by yourself it's not safe i-" "SAM!" You yelled cutting his rambling off, his eyes snapping down to meet yours "I'm okay, I promise, you got me before he could do anything" you promised him, brushing a stray strand of shaggy brown hair behind his ear

He closed his eyes tightly and sighed loudly, his shoulders remaining as tense as ever, he wrapped his strong arms tightly around you, holding you tightly to him

You rest your head against his hard chest, listening to his heart beating like crazy as he breathed in your scent "are you okay sweetie?" You questioned looking up at him

Sam nodded slowly "I'm doing everything I can right now to stop myself from killing that perverted bastard" Sam confessed, his voice low and serious, you chuckled quietly "Sammy your the sweetest guy I've ever met, you don't have killer instincts in you" 

Sam swallowed thickly... little did you know who he really was, how many monsters he'd killed since he learned to walk "...yeah your probably right, come on let's get some sleep" Sam said changing the subject quickly

You stepped away from the his warm comforting embrace nodding your head, a quiet quiver threatening to leave your lips  "night Sammy" you leaned up to kiss his cheek before retreating to your bedroom.

You shivered as you walked into your dark bedroom, you pulled on an oversized shirt kicked off your jeans before getting into you bed, your whole body shook as you lay, the events of the night finally setting in your head

You let the hot tears fall slowly down your face as you fell asleep. 

You awoke a while later, you heart beating like crazy, your face stung as tears, new and fresh stuck to your cheeks, you tried catching your breath before making your way quickly to your bedroom door and down the hall to your best friends room

You knocked lightly on the door but there was no response other than the small snores on the other side, you questioned if you should just suck it up and go back to your own room but you knew you couldn't, not alone 

Taking a deep shaky breath you opened the door tip toeing towards the sleeping giant, "Sammy?" You whispered in a strained voice, "...Y/N... w-what's going on? Everything okay?" Sam quickly shot up suddenly as though he was wide awake. You tried to control your breathing before replying "y-yeah I uh, I-" you struggled to get out before you broke completely, your whole body shaking as more tears streamed down your swollen face

Sam was instantly pulling you down to sit next to him on his bed, pulling your shaking body tightly into his warm embrace, his muscular arms wrapping around you waist as you lay your head in the crook of his neck, "hey it's okay just breath" he said gently trolling your hair from your face "what happened?" He asked quietly stroking your wet hair behind your ear 

You took a deep shaky breath leaning into his touch "I- I just had a bad dream and I didn't want to be alone, can I stay with you, please?" You begged Sam, your heart racing like crazy, Sam's cheeks flushed a deep red as he nodded his head almost immediately "of course you can, you know you can always come to me no matter what" You smiled squeezing his hand tightly as a silent thank you.

Sam stayed in that position for another while longer, just holding you tightly to him as you slowly regained your breathing and the tears stopped rolling, "you ready to lay down?" Sam asked rubbing his hand up and down your cold arms nodding you move to his side, slowly lowering your self to rest against the cold unused pillow in Sam's bed, Sam turned to face you in the bed,

His hand once again reaching out for your own "I promise your safe here, I would never in a million years let anyone or anything hurt you" Sam assured you making your heart swell, "I know sweetie,  your like my very own superhero" you told him making his lips pull into his familiar grin "night gorgeous" Sam said giving your small hand another light squeeze "night Sammy" you whispered back.

You lay there another few minutes just staring into the dark room, this was different than how you felt earlier in your own bed, you felt safe... you just couldn't trust your mind enough to sleep

You turned to your side to face Sam, his eyes already on you "I can't sleep" you whispered lowly to him your faces inches apart as Sam moved closer his arm moving to wrap around your waist as his green eyes stared into yours "it'll be okay, I'm right here next to you" Sam promised making you smile up at him 

Your hand cupped the side of Sam's face gently as you moved closer, just testing the waters, letting him have time to pull away if he wanted to, but he didn't.

Sam closed the small gap between your lips quickly capturing you lips with his, you let out a small gasp as your hand flew to grip the back of his neck lightly, his own gripping your waist pulling you as close as possible to him, you let out a quiet moan as Sam moved you to lay on your back, his body rolling to hover above you 

You wrapped you legs tightly around Sam's hips pulling him down so that his covered cock was pressing against your clothed clit, "oh god Sammy" you breathed out pulling his hair slightly 

Sam moved his kisses down your neck causing your eyes to roll "Sam please" you begged tightening your legs around his hips, sam obeyed as he pulled back slightly to pull his grey shirt and off revealing his muscular chest, you ran your hand down from his toned chest down to his pyjama pants, you swallowed the thick lump of nerves in your throat "Y/N, we don't have to do this" Sam told you sensing your nerves 

You shook your head and smiled up at him "I want to do this, with you" you told him as you gently pulled him back down for a kiss, he smirked into the kiss, his hands moving to the hem of your oversized shirt you'd stolen from Sam many moons ago, he pulled the shirt off your body, revealing your bare breasts to him, he instantly grasped them in his warm hands

You let out a small moan of his name, arching your back from the bed "please touch me" you begged, sam chuckled and kissed his was down your chest taking each breast in his hot mouth before continuing his way down your stomach, he dragged your panties down off your legs, gasping at the cold air hitting your core you move to clench your thighs together

Sam's hands caught your thighs quickly, spreading them wider exposing you completely to him "you look so beautiful like this" Sam said his eyes a darker green, bordering a light brown, Sam blew cold air against your soaking pussy before diving in, you screamed in pleasure your hand rushing to gripe Sam's longer hair, "oh god Sammy! Please don't stop that feels so fucking good" you cried out as Sam sucked hour clit into his mouth and inserting his two long fingers inside your dripping hole "you taste fucking delicious Y/N I could stay between these legs all damn day if you let me" Sam said against your pussy, the vibrations of his deep voice and combination of his thrusting fingers causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head "I'm so close Sammy please!" You screamed in pleasure slamming your head back against the pillow behind you as Sam sped up his movements, all that could be heard in the room was heavy breaths and the sounds of Sam's mouth and fingers working you toward your orgasm

You cried out in ecstasy, Sam's long fingers curled inside of you hitting your g-spot repeatedly his lips wrapping around your clit stimulating you completely, you screamed Sam's name as the coil snapped, your orgasm came crashing towards you causing your body to shake slightly, sam carried you through it, not stopping until you gently pushed him away from you, you legs around his shoulders shaking "that was the hottest fucking thing in the world, I've never had a guy do that to me before" you breathed out, still trying to catch your breath

Sam chuckled giving you lips a small kiss "well you have only dated jackasses who clearly have no idea how to please their girls, if I had it my way I'd have you tied to the bed with me down there all damn night" Sam confessed making your heart pound, you looked at him threw half lidded eyes a smirk playing on your lips "I'm not opposed to getting tied up sometime" you said making sam groan loudly as you pulled him into another deep kiss, your hand snuck it's way into his pants and wrapped around his hard cock, you started to move your hand in an up and down motion before Sam quickly grabbed your wrist stopping you

Your eyes snapped to his in a panic and your heart raced in panic, "What's wrong?" You questioned quickly and Sam smiled "nothing it's just… I'd rather be inside you gorgeous" Sam told you and he kicked the rest of his pants off leaving his big hard cock on full display making your mouth water "do you have a condom?" You struggled to ask as your mouth was suddenly dry

Sam nodded, hovering over your bare body to reach into his nightstand, he quickly pulled out a familiar foil package, he ripped it open quickly with his teeth and rolled it onto his erect member "are you sure your okay with this?" Sam, ever the gentleman asked you, his hands ran up and down your waist in a comforting way making you smile  "of course I am Sammy" you confessed wrapping your legs tightly around his hips and pulling him down to you so he was chest to chest to you

Sam leaned down to capture your lips in a sensual kiss, not rushed or hard like the other kisses, you felt him place his covered tip at your entrance, your pussy clenching in desperation to feel him inside you,

Your moan caught in your throat as Sam pushed his way inside you, filling you up, inch by inch

Sam sucked in a harsh breath, his lips moving to attach to your neck "god Y/N your so fucking tight, can already feel you squeezing me" he groaned out hotly against your neck, you giggled softly as your hands ran up Sam's muscled back, he began to move his hips slowly to rest the waters, there was a slight pain but nothing could take away from the pleasure of having Sam so close to you like this "faster Sammy please" you told him arching against him to allow him to push inside you deeper, Sam obeyed and grabbed your thighs, he pushed them up so you knees were against your chest, your calves hanging over his broad shoulders

Sam pulled his hips almost all the way back before slamming back inside you making you scream in pleasure

He continued to slam his cock deep inside you at a fast pace, hitting your G-spot with every thrust his pelvic bone pressing against you swollen clit adding just the right amount of pleasure "yes!" You screamed dragging your nails down Sam's back as white hot pleasure clouded your vision, you knew your orgasm was fast approaching as the coil in your stomach tightened "cum with me baby" you moaned out, Sam quickened his movements feeling his own orgasm crash against him, he moved his hand down to rub your clit quickly causing the band in your stomach to snap, you screamed Sam's name as your juices came flowing out of you, down Sam's thighs as Sam groaned feeling the condom fill with his hot seed 

Sam continued to thrust a few more times slowly to calm you both downs, whimpering when he pulled out you gave him a gentle kiss on his now swollen lips "that was amazing" you said once you pulled away causing Sam to chuckle, he threw the used condom in his trash can "yeah that was the best sex I've ever had" Sam confessed making your heart race and your cheeks turn pink when you giggled “yeah me too”

Sam pushed a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes staring into your own with intensity “I really like you Y/N, your my best friend.. I mean I know we just crossed the line of just friends but I want you, I mean, I want this, not just sex.. I mean I want you.. all of you” Sam confessed before kissing you quickly to solidify his words 

Your heart pounded against your chest as you listened to Sam’s confession, “I want that to Sammy” you said placing your hands on either side of his face, leaning in to peck his kiss swollen lips a couple of times until the smiles on both your lips made it impossible to keep going “so how about tomorrow after your last class we head down the Chinese place for dinner and we can rent a movie to take back home?” Sam asked you nervously “I’d love that” you told him before going to the bathroom to get ready for bed again, this time in the safe protective arms of your boyfriend.

A couple of hours later you awoke to voices in the kitchen, panic rose in your chest before you turned to wake Sam, surprised when all that was in his spot was cold sheets, you furrowed you brows before getting up, you quickly pulled on your over side shirt and panties before stalking towards the kitchen where your boyfriend and another man were talking  “sam?” You called for him making his head snap towards you “Y/N hey what you doing out of bed?” Sam questioned placing his hand on your arm 

You opened your mouth to answer before the other man moved towards you a big flirty smile graced his lips “wow you are so far out of my brothers league” the man said making sam roll his eyes “oh your Dean! Sam’s told me a lot about you” you said making him chuckle “all good I hope” he said before turning his attention back to your boyfriend before staring at you again “listen sweetheart, I gotta talk to your boyfriend here about some family business would you mind giving us a minute?” He asked trying to be as nice as possible “of course I’ll just-” you were cut off by Sam’s big arm wrapping tightly around yours waist pulling you tightly to his side “no, anything you can say to me, you can say in front of Y/N” Sam told him his chest puffed out in anger 

Dean clapped his hands together in frustration “fine, dad hasn’t been home in a couple days” Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes dramatically once again “yeah, he’ll come stumbling back on in soon enough, just like he always does!” Sam said annoyed, his muscled arm around your waist tightening as Dean sighed lowly 

 “alright, dads on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days”. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ALL MY OWN WORK I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OR PUBLISH ON OTHER SITES , I.E WATTPAD, ETC, WITHOUT MESSAGING TO ASK FIRST

For my Sam girlies!

[spidehpig]

the crooks are out, and the streets are grey

aka a prison pen pal au

HUUUUGE fucking thank you to @ceilidho for all of the writing advice and beta reading this and just generally being a big motivation and indulging in all of my random cod thoughts lol

this is incredibly self-indulgent. tags will be updated accordingly with a warning on each chapter when necessary. i'm a big fan of ghoap being perverted violent freaks if you couldn't tell.

thanks for reading besties. sorry there isn't any direct reader x ghost interaction yet. i promise it's coming.

you can also find me on twitter

[cw implied sexual harassment, future dubcon, explicit sexual content] 18+ MDNI

AO3

Part 1

It starts with a little slip of paper shoved under the bars of his shared cell with Soap. 

An official notice to inform inmates of the start of a new pen pal program the following week. Some rehabilitative bullshit about encouraging good behavior and rehabilitating prisoners on track to be released within the next few years. Ghost can’t help but roll his eyes as he crumples up the slip of paper and makes his way to the prison yard. Doesn’t give it another thought. 

That is until he receives a letter. Packaged in a little envelope with the prettiest handwriting he’s ever seen, addressed to the one and only Simon V. Riley: Inmate #634. The envelope had been torn open with a letter opener, read by prison staff, and searched for contraband, of course, before it made its way through the slot of his cell door. It comes in a lilac envelope and it's even adorned with a pretty little heart right next to his name scrawled in cursive. 

Ghost shoves the pastry he swiped in the cafeteria from a new inmate into his mouth as he rips open the letter with mild interest. He lets out a snort when he sees that the staple holding the pages of the letter together was ripped out by whatever guard had gotten stuck with mail duty today. He knows that you’ll have already received an angry voicemail from the prison advising you that all mail to inmates must be paperclip and staple free upon arrival. 

He glances over the letter with disinterest, a couple paragraphs introducing yourself and one detailing your excitement about joining the program. He only skims his way to the second page where you start to ask him questions about himself before he’s crumpling up the pages to shove under his bunk. He’ll be free of this place in a mere sixteen months; doesn’t need a bloody pen pal to encourage good behavior. 

He knows that there is anger and violence rooted deep within him. On a good day, it simmers in his chest, a warm heat that lies dormant. On bad days, it burns so hot that he can feel the angry heat creep up into his throat. It makes the words that spill from his mouth cruel, and his calloused fingers twitch as he stomps his way over to the courtyard to beat the old punching bag until his shirt is soaked through with sweat and his knuckles are raw and bloody.

Not all bad days end with him wrapping his split knuckles with bandages from the infirmary. Sometimes they end with him in solitary and picking another inmate’s dried blood from underneath his fingernails. He hasn’t had a bad day like that in over a year now. 

If he’s being honest with himself, it’s only because he doesn’t want to jeopardize his early release. Most of the other inmates know well enough now to leave Ghost be. The last inmate to piss Ghost off ended up in the infirmary with three broken ribs and two of his own teeth spat into his palm. 

Poor sod ducks his head like a quivering dog every time he meets Ghost’s gaze now; surely won’t make the mistake of cutting in front of him in line at the cafeteria again. Ghost hasn’t been outside of a prison in the last seventeen years but he can’t imagine a civilian would try to swipe food from his plate or pick a fight with him just to see if they could win it. 

So he lies through his teeth at every psych evaluation. Tells the doctors that the exercises they suggested are helping him manage his anger. He has a feeling they don’t quite believe him, but he hasn’t had an episode in over a year to justify their reservations. And since they don’t question his ability to rehabilitate into civilian life, he tells himself that he’ll be fine on the outside. All he has to do is keep to himself until Johnny gets released eight months after him. He just needs to behave for another year and he doesn’t see how writing letters would make any difference.

He had thought that if he just ignored the letters they would eventually stop coming, but despite his obvious reluctance to partake in the program, the letters keep coming. Every last one in a pretty lilac envelope, notably staple free since the first one. He gleans little from her letters. Some young bird that signed up for this pen pal exchange. She’s twenty-one and has an interest in criminology. 

Ghost decides that he hates her for it. 

Each letter gets shoved under the bunk; most of the time he doesn’t even bother to open and read them. He rolls his eyes when Soap whines and begs to trade pen pals with him. Apparently the poor mutt got stuck with some seventy-four year old retired veteran and he doesn’t think it's fair that Ghost got paired with a young woman. 

It isn’t until he receives yet another letter from his unwanted pen pal, this time addressed from another country, that something finally makes him stop in his tracks. The bird is apparently studying abroad and when he opens the envelope, a flimsy polaroid floats down into his lap. He doesn’t bother to read the newest letter and instead snatches the picture up between his thick fingers. He can’t help the groan that escapes his lips the second he flips the polaroid picture over.

Ghost hardly even looks at the sweet smile and bright blue ocean behind her. No, that’s not what catches his attention. His gaze immediately flicks down to the swell of her breasts taking up half of the image. What would be an innocent selfie to most might as well be a page ripped straight from a playboy magazine to Ghost. Clearly taken at the beach after a swim in the ocean, sweat and ocean water glistening on your skin, and Ghost can see the peaks of your nipples poking through your thin bikini top. 

And fuck is that enough for him. He hasn’t had a woman in, well, ever, and the guards keep confiscating his playboy magazines, so this will have to do. A low grunt escapes his chest as he reaches down to palm his cock that’s now twitching to attention. He pauses to make sure Soap is still snoring, loudly , in the bunk above him before he reaches down to grope at his stiffening prick. Unzips himself from his prison issued track pants and palms at his stiffening cock over the thin fabric of his briefs. 

He hisses between his teeth when he dips his hand under the band of his briefs and the rough skin of his palm tugs against the sensitive skin of his cock. Has to yank his hand back and spit into his palm before wrapping his thick fingers around the base of his cock. His other hand grips the picture of you between his fingertips as he pulls his foreskin back to reveal his swollen tip already leaking precum. It twitches in his hand as another glob of precum leaks down his prick. 

He has half a mind to wake Soap up and shove his cock down the boy’s throat. If he fucks his throat deep enough he could pretend it’s the tight heat of your cunt clenching around his cock while he laps at one of the nipples peaking through your bikini. 

Ghost’s fantasy is shattered the second the little shit sleeping above him wakes with a loud snort. He watches Soap’s head peek over the side of his bunk, pretty blue eyes clouded with sleep as his disheveled mohawk dangles over the metal bunk. 

“Yeh could’ve asked for a helping hand yaknow that, Ghost. Yeh know I’d—” Soap’s voice cuts off abruptly, eyes narrowing on the polaroid clutched in Ghost’s hand and the other wrapped around his prick.

”Whatcha got there, Ghost?” Soap drawls, accent still thick from sleep.

”Fuck off, Johnny,” Ghost grunts as he looks back down at your picture and gives his cock another stroke.

No use in deterring his mutt once his sight is set on a bone though. He feels the bunk shake and squeak as Soap scrambles down the ladder, the pervert already tenting his boxers as he crawls into Ghost’s bed.

”I said fuck off, Johnny.” Ghost grits his teeth and clutches your picture to his chest. Trying desperately to reimagine the swell of your tits pressed against his chest when you finally sink down on his cock. But Soap is relentless. His needy slut straddles Ghost’s thighs with a smirk on his face. 

And fuck it, his boy is gagging for it, he might as well. He doesn’t acknowledge Soap’s incessant teasing and instead fists a hand through his soft mohawk before shoving the brat’s head between his legs. 

A low growl escapes his chest as the man’s lips wrap around his throbbing cock. And fuck, does his mouth feel good, tight and wet as his soft lips slide down Ghost’s length, throat swallowing around him. He loses himself in the feel of Soap’s practiced mouth, eyes only snapping open when Soap lets out a deep moan. Before he can even think, the palm of his hand is connecting with Soap’s cheek, hard . It draws a low moan from Soap’s throat which only serves to irritate Ghost more.

”Shut up,” Ghost snaps and pushes Soap’s head down on his cock until he feels the man flinch and gag around his prick. Usually he loves to hear the whorish sounds that fall from his boy’s pretty lips but right now, he’s trying to imagine the way you’d cry out and beg as he inches his cock into the tight heat of your cunt. Ghost slaps his boy across the cheek again when Soap lets out a low growl and scrapes his teeth on the underside of his cock. 

Soap seems to get the message, his moans and growls slowly quiet, swirling his tongue around Ghost’s swollen glands before sinking down until his nose is buried in Ghost’s pubic hair. Ghost loses himself in the wet heat of Soap’s throat once more, eyes rolling back as his head knocks back against his pillow, your pretty smile contorting itself into a cry as he bullies his cock into your cunt. His hips buck and bruise the back of Soap’s throat with every thrust while he dreams of fucking your pretty cunt full of his cum. He cums with a snarl on his lips and Johnny gagging around him. Holds Soap down on his cock as he reaches down to squeeze at his balls one last time before ripping the boy off his cock with a sputtering gasp. 

Soap is immediately scrambling up the bed, grinding his prick against the swell of Ghost’s thigh.

”C’mon, Ghost, lemme see, just a peek I swear that’s all I need,” Soap whines, frantically grinding his cock against Ghost’s leg. Ghost blinks as the bliss from his orgasm melts away, the bunk creaking from the force of Soap’s desperate thrusts, the man panting and grunting above him. 

He languidly flips your photo between his fingers, any streak of possessiveness gone now, as long as it’ll get his mutt to stop humping his leg faster so he can get some sleep. 

“Ah, fuck , Ghost, looks bonnie, don’t she,” Soap pants as his eyes flit over your bikini photo, the grind of his hips losing their rhythm for a moment. 

“Bet ‘er ass hasn’t been fucked yet,” Soap groans.

”Make ‘er take us both.”

”Bet she tastes sweet.”

”Pretty thing.”

Ghost barely registers Soap’s babbling above him, just grabs his ass and guides his hips against his thigh until Soap is cumming in his briefs with a low moan. When the boy finally calms down enough to catch his breath, he pulls the cum soaked briefs off of his boy and tosses them across the cell before pulling the mutt to his chest as they both doze off.

Ghost wakes annoyed, drenched in sweat and cum and Soap snoring loudly against his neck. The little shit has the audacity to grumble and pout when he makes Soap go sleep in his own bunk. When he hears Soap’s start to snore, he sits up, stealing Soap’s pencil and a spare sheet of paper. He starts scribbling words back to you. The first letter he’s responded to. His handwriting is ugly and near illegible, but he thinks you should be able to read most of it. He hangs his arms out of the bars of his cell and whistles at the guard stationed down the hall. Shoves his letter to you in the guard’s hand and grunts at him to send it to his bird.

The guard, Andrews, he thinks, scoffs snatching the letter from Ghost’s fingertips before banging on the cell door.

”MacTavish! You got a letter for your lovebird too?”

Ghost groans, already prepared for the bitchfest that’s about to happen.

Soap awakes with a loud snort, head snapping up over the edge of his bunk and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.” 

“Aye fuck off, you limp dick prick,” Soap growls and scrambles down the rickety bunk to press the length of his body against the cell bars as he curses the guard that taunted him. A litany of Scottish curses fall from his lips as Soap presses his forehead to the bars and goads the guard into approaching their shared cell. The little spitfire has himself so worked up he’s pacing the length of their cell and spewing insults at the guards on duty.

“I know yer playing favorites, Andrews. Think yer funny giving me some old bastard, don’t yeh?” Soap hollers into the hallway and slams a fist against the bars of their cell, pressing his forehead against the bars once again, growling and swearing some more when Andrews takes a step back, barking out a harsh laugh. Ghost can practically see the metaphorical fur on Soap’s hind spike up at that, just a moment before he spits at the guard’s feet. Andrews, the scrawny little fucker, lurches forward to swat at Soap’s fists clenched around the bars of their cell with his baton.

“You better back up and watch that mouth of yours Mactavish, or it’ll be another two days in solitary for you,” Andrews snaps at Soap and shoots a knowing directly at Ghost. 

And oh does Ghost hate when Soap gets sent to solitary. Can’t use his boy’s holes when he’s locked up on the other side of the prison. The rough drag of his own fist just can’t compete with the tight heat of Johnny’s throat or arse. Especially now that he’s got a bird back home to think about. Ghost grips the back of Soap’s sweat soaked shirt and yanks him back from the cell bars, grunting at him to give it a fuck rest.  Ghost retreats to his bunk when Soap finally cools off, watching as Soap flops down onto the chair at their shared desk and starts to angrily scribble in his journal, occasionally grumbling to himself under his breath. He settles back against his pillow, content with thinking about his new bird on the outside until the guards release them for breakfast. He almost feels bad about not writing to you sooner. Poor girl tired of her letters going unanswered, you really were just begging for his attention when you sent a violent inmate a photo of your tits now, weren’t you?

[kvrokasaa]

omg i was js thinking abt timeskip kaiser, a renowed pro football player, attending some celebrity event and seeing his mother there SKDJEK 🫨 can you plspls make it a short angsty(?) story w a happy ending pls our boy deserves it :(

take care <3

I tried to make it as angsty as I could, but I probably just made a comfort fic, I'm sorry!

Cw: mention of food, mentions of mother's leaving, kaiser being sad, crying, comfort, angst(?), happy ending, comforting kaiser helps cope with the recent chapter :(, not proofread, 1.5k words

“I seriously don’t know how you do it,” you whisper over to Kaiser, your voice trailing off to a quiet giggle. A smile reaches his face when he hears your giggle, you never fail to brighten his mood. “Do what, meine liebe?” He questions, the pet name rolls off his tongue with such ease, that you’re sure he practices saying it every day.

“I don’t know how you manage to attend these events and functions all the time. It’s my first time and it’s so tiring already,” you hum, grabbing a strawberry covered in chocolate. “At least there’s good food,” you finish. 

Kaiser snorts quietly. That’s what got you to come in the first place. He almost begged you to come with him, but every time he asked he was met with your quick ‘no.’ So, like the man he is, he went to underhanded tactics. He promised to get you good food, and promised that there’ll be really good food there.

You’re thankful that he didn’t lie.

“It’s about keeping up with appearances, meine liebe.” His arm circles around your waist when he sees some nobody looking at you with obvious intentions. “Do you think if I didn’t blow so much money on these stupid things people would still respect me? No. I have to come to these to show people that I’m richer and better than they will ever be.” You almost wanted to roll your eyes. But would it really be Kaiser if he didn’t say something super egotistical?

He chuckles when he sees how close you are to rolling your eyes. Although most of his words were false, some of them were true. If he didn’t come to these and spend so much money, people would not respect him. The world truly is in his hands.

“Okay you goof, I have to use the restroom,” you pressed your hands against his chest as you raised yourself onto your tiptoes. “Make sure to stuff some of that food into my purse when I’m gone.” You joked.

Kaiser followed you with his eyes while you walked to the end of the ridiculously big room for the bathroom. His eyes show everything, especially his love and adoration for you. He laughs a little as he turns his attention back to the speaker. 

But something catches his eye. A slightly tall woman, with blond hair but almost gray now, no. That’s not what makes Kaiser freeze in his spot, that’s not what makes his heart beat ten times faster. It’s the unmistakable red eyeliner. 

Anyone could apply red eyeliner, he tries to reason with himself. Kaiser tries his best to divert his attention back to the speaker, but his eyes cannot seem to leave the woman. His gaze must have alerted the woman because the next second she is looking around for the person.

And when her eyes fall on him, he immediately panics. No way in hell. She can not be here. He must be hallucinating or something. He needs air, fresh air. Why can’t he breathe? 

Kaiser leaves the mansion as quickly as possible, trying to get away from the stuffy crowd. But just his luck, she follows him out. 

“My son, I have been looking for you.”

You leave the bathroom, with your disgust intensified. Why are rich people so weird? Couldn’t that couple have gone home? Who in their right mind would be doing that during a fundraiser? 

A sigh escapes your lips as you make your way to the crowd, ready to tell Kaiser what you just witnessed. 

But when you get back to the table of food, he’s gone. You swear that he wouldn’t just leave you, and he would’ve texted you if he moved somewhere else. Maybe he had gone to the restroom too?

After searching for a little, you end up spotting his blonde and blue hair. But you see a person standing if front of him and he isn’t moving at all. Your brows furrow in a quizzical manner, who is that?

“No.” You hear him say, it was more of a demand than anything. “You’re lying.” The woman in front of him shakes her head, a soft expression on her face. “You may think that, but we both know it’s not true.” She opens her arms, her hands awaiting his shoulders as to pull him into her embrace. 

“It’s me, your mother.” Your eyes widen, why is she here? Why did she decide to come back now of all times?

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” your tone is soft while you look at Michael, a worried expression on your face. “But Michael and I should really be going.” “Who are you?” Her soft expression never falls, almost like she got it implanted onto her face. But you can see the truth, the deception, the root of her lies. She’s only here for the spotlight. She wants to be seen as his mother, as his savior. But you know that she will only ruin him. She will only make him fall deeper into the black hole.

“Oh, I’m guessing you haven’t seen the news,” you start. You look at Michael’s mother, your soft expression immediately faltering. “I’m Michael’s fiancee. It’s very nice to meet you.” You give her a fake soft smile. You don’t want to seem too rude, but you know kindness with a person like this will only lead to your ruin.

“Ah, I thought you were his chafure. You seem awfully-” “Stop.” She turns her attention back to Michael, her faux softness resurfacing. “My dear, you seem tired. Why don’t we-” “No.” He can’t get his head around this whole situation. Why has she come back? Why did she choose now to come back? Does she want money, is that it? Maybe she just wants to be seen with him. Maybe she needs her acting career back and the only way she can get noticed is with Michael.

But he doesn’t want any of that. He tried so hard to look for her, and now she shows up out of nowhere. 

Michael feels like he’s on the verge of a breakdown. 

His mom tries to reach out again, but Michael is too preoccupied to notice. So, you step in, your body in the middle of both of them. Your glare is icy, never relenting when you see his mother’s expression falter. She seems to be caught up in her own little world. Does she not know the damage she created? How dare she walk back into his life like he owes her everything.

No, she owes him everything.

“I don’t know you, but I know of you. I know what kind of person you are and it’s fucking disgusting.” Your tone is sharp as if laced with venom, and it cuts right through her little facade. You can see the second her fake kindness leaves, and you’re left with the disgust and hatred that Kaiser should have. 

“You are not allowed to walk back into Michael’s life when it’s convenient for you. You don’t get to do that. That’s not fair to him at all. 

Do you know how many times he’s tried to find you? You don’t, do you? He’s tried almost his entire life to find you, to find some sort of comfort in his mother. But you left him. You left a child all by himself with someone neither of you could’ve trusted. 

Do you know the first thing he said to me when I first hugged him? He thanked me. He thanked me for being there, for letting him breathe. He has constant thoughts that I’m going to leave him because of your mistakes.

And if you’re a good mother, if you truly missed him, you would’ve reached out in the past and apologized for everything. But you didn’t.

So no. I’m sorry, but not. You do not get to walk back into Michael’s life right now. He can reach out if and when he truly wants to. Please leave.”

Michael’s mother juts her chin up, a little huff leaving her mouth before she walks away. You truly thought that you wedged a block between Kaiser and his mother. You’re scared that if you turn around, you’ll see the hurt and betrayal across his face.

But that’s not it in the slightest. Kaiser is so proud to be called yours at this moment. He’s so very grateful to you. He has never had someone stick up for him in this way before.

Yes, he always acts as if nothing can bother him, even if he shows it on his face a little. But at this moment, he realizes that he wants to be held by you, he wants you to nurture him and to care for him. He wants to turn to you for things he has never received in his life.

Before he knows it, tears gather in his eyes, threatening to spill along his cheeks. His body moves on its own as he makes his way to you.

“Thank you,” his arms looped around your waist, his hold tightening ever so slightly. You thank the Lord that everyone has left or else everyone would see Kaiser crying and you know that he hates showing that to the world. 

You let those thoughts leave your mind, your smile growing back onto your face. “No need to thank me, my love. I meant every word and I will protect you until you’re ready to see her again.”

[zepskies]

Every Second Counts - Part 2

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: I decided to put this chapter out a bit early due to some Father's Day stuff tomorrow. I was blown away by the response from you guys on Part 1!! Thank you so much. 🥰 I had some trepidation writing a new character, but I'm so glad you guys seem to enjoy where this little series is going so far. It makes me even more excited to bring you the next chapter of ESC! 💜

Song Inspo: “Too Late” by The Paper Kites

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: Shaw family feels, a bit of mystery, tinge of fluff and mutual pining, and a twist…

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 2: “Family Reunion”

The next day after he left, you finally managed to get Charlie on the phone. He implored you not to try and find him.

He claimed he was staying with a friend for now, and was picking up some odd jobs through a connection at the museum—another security guard who knew how to get extra work. 

“What kind of extra work?” you asked. You sunk back into the couch in your living room and held a hand to your aching head. You had already lost sleep over this, worrying about where he was and what the hell he was doing.

“It’s better that you don’t know,” Charlie said.

He really knew how to frustrate you to the nth degree.

“Charlie, just come home. Please,” you said. Tears burned in your eyes, choking your words. “I’m sorry for what I said, okay? We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”

You heard him sigh.

“You had a right to be mad,” he said. “I’m the big brother, remember? But I’m…I’m a fucking mess. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

“We take care of each other, and you know that,” you said sharply, wiping at your eyes in frustration.

“Listen, I’ll come home when I can, okay? Be good.”

“Charlie! Ch—” The call ended, and you nearly tossed your phone in aggravation.

“That stubborn fucking idiot,” you muttered.

Four months later, your worry was eating you alive.

Charlie refused to come home or tell you where he was staying. The only time you got to see him was when you visited him on his night shift at the museum. You tried to talk him into coming home, but your brother remained stubborn.

“You get that from Dad,” you’d told him once, while watching him eat some leftover meatloaf you’d made for him. The two of you stood outside the museum on his break.

Charlie had smirked at you. “Yeah, well, you share the disease.”

You’d rolled your eyes at that.

But just when you thought you were starting to get through to him, now, he’d stopped answering your calls. For that matter, the museum hadn’t even seen or heard from him in a week or so.

So here you sat, in the living room of Dory’s apartment, crying into a jar of Nutella that you’d long ago stopped spreading over the strawberries she’d laid out. You had a chocolate-covered butterknife in one hand and a used Kleenex in the other.

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t want necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

You hadn’t had a chance to meet him when he dropped in a couple of months ago, but she’d told you about his brief visit to find a graduate student who had been kidnapped, and nearly killed by a professor in the Sciences department for uncovering a flaw in the man’s research. That flaw would have costed him his entire grant, and possibly his career and reputation. 

The terrible incident had caused an uproar on campus. Students were released from their classes for an entire day after the professor was arrested. 

Now, Dory considered your question with a thoughtful nod. “I’ll call him.”

You were grateful, but your face became pained as something occurred to you. You held up a hand.

“Wait, I just realized I can’t pay him,” you said. You didn’t have more than a thousand dollars in your savings account, and that was for emergencies. Like the time Charlie nearly burned the house down after a lighting mishap with his bong.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about that,” Dory said. She laid a comforting hand on your arm. “He’d do this as a favor to me.”

“I don’t know,” you replied, your brows furrowing. “That’s a pretty big favor.”

She’d told you what some of Colter’s fees could run up to, but she tried to quell your reservations and promised to call him regardless.

However, the more you thought about it, you already had a phone number in your cell…for the one person who would understand the part of your brother that you might never be able to. 

After you left Dory’s apartment, you debated the idea in your head for the entire drive home. 

And when you got to the house, you picked up your cell, and you called him. Your nerves had you pacing back and forth across the living room as it rang. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help smiling just at the sound of his voice, smooth and pleased, and a hint surprised.

“Hey,” you replied, biting your lip. “How are you?”

“I’m good. You’ve got good timing too. I just came off a job,” he said.

“Oh really? Where are you?”

“Well, I’m states-side now. Just got back from South America.”

“Oh, wow,” you said, blinking incredulously.

What the hell was he doing there? you had to wonder. Maybe he was protecting some Latin American emissary. Or maybe, he was doing things you didn’t want to think about. Your brother had filled you in a bit about civilian contract jobs in recent weeks, as he’d considered going after those himself.

“They can pay very well, from what I hear,” Charlie had said. “The problem with that is, it kind of defeats the purpose of leaving the military.”

Despite that mildly troubling thought, you tried to focus on the fact that you had this man on the phone at all.

A smile formed across your lips. “Did you get yourself a nice tan?”

“Eh, not really. Was more of a night job,” he said. “But uh…how are you doing? Not gonna lie, I’m surprised to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m not all that good, if I’m honest,” you said.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You heard the concern in his voice. You steeled yourself before you answered.

“Russell, I’m sorry, but I need to ask you for a big favor.”

“Hmm, this sounds serious,” he said.

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. When you next took a breath, it came out unsteady. “My brother’s missing.”

It was a bright Saturday morning when you welcomed Russell Shaw into your house. He looked around, finding family pictures, bookshelves, paintings, candles, all things that began to shade in who you were in the comfort of your home.

“It’s nice,” he said. “It’s uh, homey.”

You smiled and closed the door behind him.

“Well, it’s the house we grew up in,” you replied.

You and Charlie had of course inherited it after your parents’ passing. Their life insurance policies had helped pay off the three-bedroom house while you two were still in school. Your grandparents helped a lot back then too, and had even moved in for a time. Now they each had plots beside your parents at Grandview Cemetery.

“You want some coffee? I know you had a long drive,” you asked.

“Sure,” Russell agreed. He followed you to the kitchen, where you put on the coffee pot. You made a discreet glance at him. He looked virtually the same, with that familiar green jacket, jeans, boots, and a Jimi Hendrix shirt. You'd had a feeling he was a classic rock guy.

“Look, not that I wasn’t glad to get your call,” Russell said, “but you do know that I’m not the tracker in the family, right?”

“Dory did offer to call Colter, but I can’t afford to pay him,” you said.

“I could help with that,” said Russell. You raised up a hand to stop him there.

“I don’t want that kind of help from you,” you said firmly. “I didn’t call you for money, Russell. I called you because you’ll probably understand where Charlie’s head’s at. Better than me, anyway.”

He hesitated, but nodded in understanding. When the coffeemaker dinged, finished percolating, you turned to make him a mug with cream and sugar, as per his request.

While he waited for the coffee to cool, he admired you for a moment. Even in a plain V-neck shirt and a pair of jeans, your hair swung up in a ponytail, you were still a sight. (Your lipstick did match your shirt though. That made him smile.)

And Russell could admit, it was good to see you again.

“Me and Colter reconnected recently. Did Dory tell you?” he said.

Your brows raised high in surprise. “Oh yeah?”

The two of you found your way back to the living room with your mugs.

“Yeah. We talked for the first time in…shit, over twenty years,” Russell laughed, raking a hand through his hair.

Not only had he been able to say his piece to Colter about their…family issues, they’d also solved a case of their own, with Colter agreeing to help him find his friend Doug, who worked for the same black ops contract agency as Russell. The Horizon Group.

The aftermath of that still left Russell with a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of how Horizon would’ve left Doug to rot, if it hadn’t been for him and Colter pressing their luck and digging deeper into who’d taken his friend.

That whole mess had also made Russell begin to wonder if maybe he needed a new line of work after all. But, because the money was just that good, he’d ended up on a new job by the end of the month.

Your voice soon broke him from his thoughts.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you said. You reached over and touched his arm, with warmth in your eyes. 

Russell gave you a smile. The closeness between you brought up memories of that dusty bar, and the taste of lime and tequila on your soft, supple lips. But you subtly cleared your throat and took your hand back. He hid a twinge of disappointment.

“So what’s going on with your brother?” Russell asked.

Get back on track, he reminded himself.

You sighed. “Damn Charlie.”

Over coffee, you explained that Charlie took off a few months ago, the night you got back from the bar. You had seen him only briefly, whenever you were able to catch him at the museum after work. He’d been keeping in touch with you on a weekly basis, but now, he hadn’t called in almost two weeks. You couldn’t get ahold of him on any of the numbers you had. They all seemed to be burner phones. Plus, he’d been let go from his job at the museum after not showing up for the past week. 

“What’s he into, extracurricular-wise?” Russell asked.

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me,” you said in frustration. Tears prickled at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled. “He said it was safer that way.”

Russell laid a supportive hand over yours, earning your watery gaze.

“And you haven’t gone to the police?” he asked.

“I think he’s gotten into something…dangerous. I don’t want to get him in more trouble than he might be already,” you said. “I just want him to get help for his problems. Physically and mentally.”

Russell nodded. He understood that you wanted to protect your brother. Sometimes though, getting into “trouble” was the rock bottom someone needed in order to face their problems.

“Does he have friends?” he asked. “Some kinda crowd he hangs around with?”

“Not anymore. I think he’s lost touch with his Air Force buddies,” you said, though you tried to think. Your brows furrowed as something occurred to you. “He knew someone at work, at the museum. Another security guard on his same shift. After they cut his hours down to part-time, Charlie said the guy knew how to get extra work.”

“Okay, that’s definitely where we start,” said Russell. “Let me just give Dory a call. If I don’t let her know I’m in town, I don’t even wanna know the consequences.”

You laughed through your tears and tried to brush them away. 

“Yeah, do that. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Russell took one look at you, and he tightened his hold on your hand.

“Hey,” he said.

You glanced up at him, as tears clung to your lashes. His heart couldn’t help but clench for you. He really didn’t like to see you like this.

“We’re gonna find him. You’ve got my word,” he said. 

You were desperate to believe him. So you nodded, sniffling as you tried and failed to keep yourself together. You were scared, for the first time in a long time. 

“All right, come ‘ere,” Russell said. When he guided you into his arms, you went willingly. You pressed your face into his chest to hide your weeping. His hold was warm and strong enough to make you feel secure. Just for this moment, you didn’t have to pretend you had everything handled.

“He’s the only family I have,” you reminded him. He nodded.

“I hear ya. We’ll get him home,” he said. “And I am going to call Colter. Don’t worry about the rest. I’ll square it up with him.”

“Russell—” you protested, but he just squeezed you playfully. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pull big brother rank. He’s got no choice,” he joked. 

You shook your head, but you allowed him to comfort you for a bit longer. Because all too soon, you’d have to steel yourself again. You’d have to be the version of yourself that you always had to be, ever since you were fourteen years old.

You invited Dory over to your house, where the three of you were soon joined by the last of the Shaw siblings: the one you had yet to meet.

Colter made it in time for dinner that afternoon. The tall blonde took up your doorway with his broad shoulders and offered you a polite smile, along with his hand. 

“Hi, I’m Colter,” he said. 

You mentally tripped up a bit as you shook his hand and gave him your name. Did all the Shaw siblings have to be so damn attractive?

“Uh, yes, please come in.” You ushered him into your home and led him into the living room, where Russell stood from the couch. 

“Ahh, there he is,” Russell grinned, slapping his younger brother on the shoulder. 

“Here you are,” Colter gestured at him. “Where the hell did you take off to after last time?”

“Ah, you know. Argentina was fun.”

“I’m sure it was.”

You paused in the doorway, just watching the brothers in mystification. Dory shot you a questioning look as she came over from the kitchen. You met her with raised brows. 

“What?” Dory asked. A smile played on her lips.

“Do all of you have to be so unbelievably pretty?” you whispered over to her. Dory smirked and bumped your shoulder, nodding at Colter. 

“What, you wanna make out with him too?” she teased. 

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. Dory just laughed and moved on to say hello to the other blonde. She pulled him down into a hug, and he reciprocated warmly.  

Russell then laid a hand on Colter’s shoulder, as well as Dory’s. He wore a big, proud grin.

“Hey. Look at us, huh?” he said. 

Dory sniffed as tears welled up in her eyes, looking up at both of her brothers. Colter wore a more reserved smile, but he did wrap an arm around his sister and thump his older brother on the back.

You smiled. You were lingering by the kitchen doorway. If nothing else, you were glad that this whole mess had been able to bring Dory back together with her family. 

You decided to give them a moment, and you wandered back into the kitchen. There you took a beat for yourself, mainly to breathe.  

When you again thought of Charlie, you had to wonder just what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

Later, the four of you sat in the living room so you could explain everything you knew so far to Colter. He took all the information in with a pensive expression that didn’t reveal much to you. 

“So you said he was struggling?” he said. 

“Yes, after he got out of the military,” you confessed. “He had a hard time figuring himself out. I got him the job at the museum, but I don’t think it was enough for him.”

“Why is that?” Colter asked. He saw that you were reluctant to explain. “I need to know the full picture of who Charlie is if I’m going to be able to figure out his probable moves.”

You sighed. “Well, he was seeing a VA psychiatrist for a while. They wanted to put him on antidepressants, but he stopped going. He…started self-medicating instead.”

That part was hard to admit, but it was the truth. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t any longer. 

“What substances?” Colter asked. 

“Alcohol, mainly,” you replied. “At his worst, there were hard drugs, but I got him to tone it down just to weed every now and then.”

You bit at your thumbnail out of habit, but you forced yourself to stop, folding your hands in your lap. You didn’t see judgment in Colter’s eyes, just him taking in the information. You couldn’t help but glance at Dory, where you found her sympathy. She knew enough about what you’d been dealing with for the past few years. Russell seemed understanding as well. 

“Anything else I should know?” Colter asked. You shook your head. You felt bad about revealing Charlie’s business like this, but you knew it was the only way to help him. Still, you felt you had to defend him a little.

“Look, my brother has his problems, but he’s a good man,” you said. “He, um…he basically half raised me, after our parents died.”

Dory also knew this story. She rested a hand on your back, and you gave her what smile you could. 

“How old were you?” Russell asked. He earned your attention, and you met his sympathetic gaze.

“Fourteen,” you answered. “It was a car accident.”

He took that in, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry.”

The way he met your eyes when he said it, you believed him. You subtly cleared your throat and directed the conversation back.   

“So, I don’t have a lot of money. But I can give you something for your services,” you said to Colter. Both Russell and Dory met you with similar looks. 

“I’ve got it,” Dory says, before Russell had the chance. Colter waved her off though.

“In this case, it’s not necessary,” he said, focusing on you again. “So Charlie was working at the local museum?”

You breathed a note of relief at his generosity. Dory, Russell, and now Colter…they were all good people in their own way. You felt emotion rise in your throat.

“Yes, it’s about ten minutes away,” you managed to reply. “It’s closed now, but his coworker could be on shift. They always have security in place.”

You grabbed your purse to go with them when Colter and Russell stood, but the former raised a placating hand. 

“It’s best if you stayed here,” Colter said.

Your brows rose. “I don’t think so.”

Colter’s mouth parted, and he blinked, like he hadn’t expected you to push back quite like that; calm and matter of fact.

“Ah, well, it’s really for your safety—”

“I’m not going to sit and wait,” you said. “That’s all I’ve been doing for months. I may not be an expert tracker, or have been in the army, but I do know my brother. And we are going to find him.”

Behind you, Dory was giving Colter a warning shake of her head. She knew just how stubborn you could be. Meanwhile, Russell came up on your other side with a smile.

“What’s the harm in her coming along to the museum?” he said, sliding his brother a teasing look. “Unless the T. rex wakes up all the mummies, Ben Stiller style.”

You wanted to point out that that wasn’t exactly the plot of Night at the Museum, but you held it in with a smile. You gave Colter an expectant look.

He sighed at Russell’s antics, but he turned to you with a nod.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said. 

“I’ll head home then,” said Dory. “Call me if you need anything.” 

You gave her a hug after she gathered up her purse. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said, rubbing your back. “Colter’s the best.” 

“All right, fine. And what am I? Chopped liver?” Russell remarked, gesturing wide with his hands. You all filtered out of your house, and you locked the door behind you.  

“Oh, you’re special, all right,” Dory quipped back, but she gave her eldest brother a warm hug as well, then patted Colter on the arm before she left.

Russell shot Colter a playful smirk. “I got the hug.”

Colter rolled his eyes and pointed over to his big pickup truck. 

“Just get in the car, please.”

You had to smile at all their sibling teasing. It reminded you of how you and Charlie used to cut up, when things were good. On your way down the driveway, you hesitated by the Chevy Chevelle parked next to your own car. She was still black and sleek and beautiful.

You happened to glance up, and there was Russell, getting into his brother’s pickup. He winked at you across the driveway. You turned your face to hide your smile (and your blush) as you climbed into your car.

Colter noted the exchange when he buckled up into the driver’s seat. He watched Russell do the same on the passenger side, all while wearing a certain smile on his face. When he noticed how Colter was looking at him, his brows raised.

“What?” said Russell.

“What was that?” Colter asked.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right,” Colter chuckled. He began to pull the car out of the driveway after you in your car, so he could follow you. “What, do you two have a thing or something? Is that why she called you before me?”

Russell shrugged, but his smile was telling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhmm. Convincing,” Colter said, but his lips tugged upward as well. His good humor diminished though, when he considered the last time he saw his brother. “How’s the arm?”

Russell gave a thumbs up with his left arm—the one that previously had a bullet run through it. It was still healing, even now.

“It’s good,” he said.

“Did you see a doctor?”

“Sure did.”

Riiiight. Another thing Colter wasn’t sure was the truth, but he’d give Russell that one.

“And that unfinished business?” Colter asked.

Russell’s smile faded, but he nodded. “Finished.”

After a moment, Colter nodded as well. 

“Okay,” he said. 

Something occured to him then. He paused, and he reached into his pocket. He held up a small, closed pocketknife with a wooden handle, and he gave it back to Russell. It had the man's name carved on the side.

Russell's smile returned as he flipped the old keepsake through his fingers.

"Thanks for keeping it safe for me," he said.

Colter smiled back. "Thanks for trusting me with it."

Colter parked next to you at the museum. It was closed, but the security guard, Jimmy, did know your brother. 

“I haven’t seen Charlie since he quit last week,” Jimmy claimed.

“He quit?” you said. “They told me he just never came back.”

“Yeah, well, same thing,” he said.

The front doors of the museum opened, and out came Dr. Feinman, your former boss, and the Head Manager. You left Jimmy’s questioning up to Russell and Colter with a meaningful look, and you went to intercept Feinman.

“Hi, sir, how’re you doing?” you asked. Your name fell from his lips in surprise. 

“My dear, it’s good to see you, but why are you here after hours?” he asked, his British accent lilting.

“I’m trying to find Charlie. He’s been missing, well, officially for about a week,” you said. “I was actually surprised to see you here so late.”

The man cleared his throat. He smoothed a hand over his tie and suit jacket.

“Yes, well, we could’ve used Charlie’s help. We’ve had to double our security efforts,” he said. “We’re currently dealing with a sensitive issue, so the museum will be closed until it is resolved.”

“You’re doubling your security efforts… Was something stolen?” you asked. 

Feinman clearly didn’t want to tell you this, but you knew you’d hit the nail on the head by the look on his face.

“Please, keep that information to yourself,” he said. 

“What was stolen?” you asked in concern. 

“I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information. Not even for you, dear,” he said. “I do hope you find your brother though.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that, and as a matter of fact,” you began, but Feinman waved an apologetic hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m in a terrible rush just now. But call my office tomorrow and Brenda will help you with whatever you may need,” he said. “Good evening.”

“Wait, Dr. Feinman,” you tried, but he was already breezing past you and heading toward his Mercedes in the parking lot.

Meanwhile, Colter and Russell weren’t having much better luck with Jimmy. 

“Look, I really don’t know where Charlie is,” he said. “Haven’t seen or heard from him since he took off.”

“He said you connected him with someone who could give him some work on the sly,” Russell said, leveling a hand at the man’s chest. “Who did you connect him with, and what kind of work are we talking?”

Jimmy blew out a breath, like this was really inconveniencing his day. (Or night, at this point.)

“What, you’ve got somewhere to be?” Colter said. “You’re getting paid to stand right here, and we have no problem sharing your shift all night. You might as well just tell us what we want to know.”

Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance.

“All right,” he snapped. “I hooked him up with this guy I knew through a mutual acquaintance, who just needed some muscle. I guess you could call it private security.”

“A mutual acquaintance?” Colter repeated. 

“What’re you, James Bond? Who did you connect him with?” Russell pressed.

Jimmy was reluctant to talk. You came back over to join them, and the security guard became even more tight-lipped.

“You guys should go. I don’t have to talk to you, and I’ve got a job to do,” he said.

When he tried to continue his patrol around the museum, you stepped deliberately in his way. You didn’t have the patience for this, and you would no longer be a doormat, letting the Goldsteins and the Feinmans of this world push past you.

“Look, Jimmy, if you don’t give us something we can go on to find my brother, you know where I’m going to go?” you asked. But you spoke before he could respond. “To the police. And your name is the only one I have to give them. Now, if you don’t want that to be you, then give me a different name.”

Jimmy looked down at you, and then over at your intimidating shadows, Russell and Colter. Jimmy sighed.

“Eddie,” he gave, finally.

Russell raised his hands, as if to say, Is that it?

“What, Eddie Vedder? Eddie who? Come on,” Russell said.

“Eddie Mendez,” Jimmy replied in a lowered voice. “I don’t know where he lives. I don’t have his number. And that 'mutual acquaintance' is doing some time in lockup. But Eddie hangs out at a bar called Howley’s.”

You and Russell shared a meaningful look at that. You turned back to Jimmy. 

“Okay. What was stolen here at the museum?” you said. “That’s why it’s been closed, right?” 

“I don’t know,” Jimmy said. “I wasn’t on shift, and Dr. Feinman keeps a tight lid on that kind of thing.”

“We’ll need to get into his office then,” Colter said. 

You blinked wider at Colter. Wait, was he really suggesting you guys break into the museum?

Jimmy pointed to the black device attached to the ceiling above them. 

“See the cameras?” he said. “That's not happening on my dime.”

Colter looked up, and he saw the cameras strategically installed across the front of the museum. 

“Then take us where the cameras don’t see,” he said.

You, Colter, and Russell were able to break into the museum via a storage unit door, thanks to Jimmy’s texted instructions. You couldn’t believe you were actually doing this, but it was for Charlie, you reminded yourself.

You remembered where to find Feinman’s office. You paid for a lot of your undergrad expenses, namely your books and tuition, by working full-time as an office assistant here, and the occasional tour guide. 

You led them to the room where the inventory records were kept. Colter gave you his gloves so you didn’t leave prints, and you were able to pinpoint what was labelled as missing from the latest shipment. 

“Oh great,” you muttered. 

“What was taken?” Colter asked.

“A collection of Native American weapons. Dated almost eight hundred years old,” you said, shaking your head. “The collection is valued at $1.5 million dollars.”

Russell and Colter shared a look. 

“That’s some big motive,” Russell said. 

“When did they go missing?” Colter asked. 

“Almost two weeks ago,” you said. Your brows furrowed the more you read, as you realized something. “Just a few days before Charlie left the museum…” 

The timing wasn’t lost on anyone. But if Charlie was a suspect, Feinman hadn’t let on to that at all. You checked the exact date the artifacts went missing again: a Tuesday night. Charlie didn’t typically work on Mondays or Tuesdays, you realized. And he’d left after the artifacts went missing. So maybe they hadn’t thought to question him yet. One small blessing.  

You sighed. With that information gathered, the three of you put back everything you uncovered and left the building the same way you came in. Jimmy was nowhere in sight, probably patrolling the other end of the museum on purpose.

When you all made it back to the parking lot, you turned to Colter and Russell.

“Okay, what’s next?” you asked. “Howley’s right? To find Eddie.”

“Actually, I think it’s best Russell and I take it from here,” Colter said. “We don’t know what kind of character Eddie Mendez is, but from how reluctant Jimmy was to tell us, it doesn’t sound good.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Russell drew closer and touched your arm. You could see in his face that he agreed with his brother, even though he hadn’t said anything yet.

“Look, you’ve been a huge help,” he said. “But let us work on this, okay? We’ll call you when we find something.”

Still, your lips pursed. “Russell, he’s my brother.”

“I know. Punching out drunks is one thing, but this might be a little different,” he said, grasping your arms gently. “Will you give me some peace of mind, knowing you’re home safe?”

He brushed one of his thumbs along your skin. Already you had goosebumps. From the cold chill on the air, or from him, you weren’t sure. But that simple touch, along with his earnest, imploring gaze broke you down.

“All right. I get it. I’m not the Special Ops guy,” you said. “But call me afterward so I know how it went.”

“Okay, will do,” Russell agreed. He let you go so you could go to your car. You shot the brothers one last look before you climbed in and peeled out of the parking lot.

Russell expelled a sigh of relief. He got into the passenger side of his brother’s pickup while Colter started it up.

Thanks to the late hour, and how little traffic there was on the road, it didn’t take you long to get home.

You’d debated whether you should just go to Howley’s anyway, but you didn’t want to get in the way, or make Russell worry for that matter. You smiled, despite yourself.

His touch had tingled across your arms, and whenever he absently laid a hand on the small of your back, supportive or guiding.

Thinking about him just made your heart ache. Because after this was over, he’d be gone again—on a new mysterious job, perhaps on the other side of the world.

You’d been regretting how you left things with him at the bar for months, but now you were glad you hadn’t gone any further with him that night. Your heart was too easily ensnared, it seemed, and Russell didn’t seem to be a “strings attached” kind of guy.

When you parked in front of your house, you let out a tense breath. Russell and Colter would find Charlie. You believed in them. You just hoped your brother was all right, wherever he was.

You pulled your cell out of your purse to call Dory as you headed for the front door. You wanted to give her an update and let her know that you were back at home.

The call began to ring just as you slipped your key into the lock. Unfortunately, you never got a chance to open it.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around you from behind and yanked you back, and a firm hand over your mouth smothered your scream.

AN: 🫣 *Whispers* Sorryyy. But hey! What did you think of the reader's reunion with Russell, as well as the little Shaw Family Reunion? Plus, we got a bit of the reader working with Russell and Colter on the case.

Now, the real timer starts...

Next Time:

You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.

Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement. 

“No…” 

That voice was all too familiar. 

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

the endings

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. click here for game day (group) chapter.

⋆˙⟡ wc: member endings are ~1k each, group endings are less than 500 words each! (in total: ~5k)

⋆˙⟡ reader: no pronouns used for reader at all in any of the endings :)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.

⋆˙⟡ endings summary: choose your own ending! jiwoong, hao, matthew, hanbin, taerae, group (quasi-poly), and group (revenge) are all included. most are angst/fluff and some are suggestive.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: there is no smut in these endings, but they allude to smut that happened previously or suggest smut that would follow these endings. please, minors dni still with this post! member endings are all happy (with angst). revenge ending is also happy, depending on what makes you happy! lol.

I'M SO SAD IT'S OVER. writing the bully series was so much fun! thank you to the anon who suggested it in the first place a couple months ago and for everyone who has given positive feedback/input! i appreciate it so much. these endings are all crafted with so much love! let me know which one you love most. maybe i'll put a poll at the bottom lol. ily, catch you in the next series!!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

jiwoong 🎭

“so i’ll hand out these scripts and we’ll get started right away,” professor lee announces, walking around the room and handing out scripts for everyone’s assigned scenes. mina sits next to you as usual, except this week she’s staring daggers at jiwoong from across the room. you guess it beats her making googly eyes at him.

mina had called you last night to rant again about how much of a jerk “jiwoong-sshi” is. note the absence of the word “oppa”. you were sorry that he’d stood her up, but you knew what kind of a person he could be long before last week. 

and she unfortunately didn’t seem to care how much of a jerk jiwoong was when you were the one bearing the brunt of it.

but you don’t want to dwell on it. you’d just fucked him and four of his friends in the campus activities lounge and had no plans to tell her. she’d asked you how the “revenge” went, but you’d kept it all pretty vague. mina was no prude, but she might have the urge to gossip a bit with news as insane as that. you wouldn’t blame her if she did.

still, you didn’t regret what you did saturday. not even a little bit. in fact, it made you feel kind of proud every time you thought about it.

you spend all of class working on a scene with mina in which you play a really outrageous set of characters trying to escape arrest. it’s a role that you’ve never opted to take before— one that requires you to be bold, funny, and brave. 

professor lee praises you after you present it at the end of class. “excellent work. what’s gotten into you, (y/n)-sshi? whatever it is, let’s keep peeling back that shell!”

you smile with pride, eyes scanning the rest of the room until they happen to land on kim jiwoong.

he’s smiling, too.

when class ends, you pick your bag up off the floor and toss in your marked-up script. you’d normally throw it in the recycling bin, but you want to keep it this time. as a reminder of what you’re capable of when you’re sure of yourself.

mina giggles as you walk out the door together and into the hallway. “i’m surprised, but you really pulled that off!”

“i’m not.”

both of your heads whip around to find kim jiwoong leaning against the wall behind you.  

“you just needed some... encouragement,” he says with a smirk, but there’s a noticeable warmth in his eyes.

“and what exactly do you need in order to be able to show up to a commitment you made?” mina asks with a scowl. your eyes narrow at him, too.

“listen, i–... i’m really sorry, mina,” he responds sincerely. the fact that he even got her name right has you stifling a gasp— let alone the apology that prefaced it. “i shouldn’t’ve stood you up. that was mean. so i’m sorry.”

mina sucks in her cheek, looking at the ceiling as she considers his sentiment.

“but i actually have something else to apologize for, too,” he adds quickly, gaze moving back and forth between the both of you. “i... i wasn’t really interested in you in the first place. i was—... i used you. to get a reaction out of the person i’m actually interested in.”

his eyes meet yours. your lips part in shock at his sudden confession. you stare at him for a long moment, unspeaking until—

“AREYOUKIDDINGMEYOUABSOLUTEDICKOFAHUMANBEINGYOULIETOANDSTANDUPMYFRIENDANDLEAVEHERINFUCKINGTURMOILOVERYOUANDTHEN—.”

you glance over at mina, expecting to see tears running down her face but instead...

she’s grinning. from ear to ear. and not in a joker sort of way— just genuine happiness.

“i knew it,” she says, clasping her hands together in front of her face and jumping excitedly. “i KNEW it! i knew you both liked each other!”

“you—... what!?” you exclaim, eyes bugging at this bizarre turn of events. “what do you mean, ‘you knew we liked each other’!?”

“i’m also confused,” jiwoong says with a frown. “considering i didn’t really know until, like, yesterday.”

“well, i knew you were going to like each other. eventually,” she says with a nod. “you know, shy, quiet person and arrogant, attractive person trope. it’s destiny!”

“if you really thought that, then why did you wanna go out with him so bad?” you ask through furrowed brow.

“‘cause he’s hot. duh,” she says, shaking her head with a smile as if your question was very silly. “can you blame me for wanting a taste first?”

“well, if it’s just a taste we’re talking about—,” jiwoong starts to offer with a smirk.

“one more word and the only thing you’ll be tasting is—” you interject, balling your hand into a fist.

“aw, first lovers’ spat! i’ll leave you guys to it,” mina says quickly before sprinting off down the now-empty hall. 

you look down at your shoes awkwardly. “i have nothing else to say to you.”

“then, you won’t mind if i talk?” jiwoong asks, not waiting for a response to continue. “when hanbin made me start bullying you last year, i honestly didn’t want to. you were pathetic enough already without my help.”

“gee, thanks,” you reply with with a frown.

“but then i sort of started to have fun with it. the way you reacted was absolutely intoxicating. you made it all so rewarding— coming up with a new plan to drive you crazy every day,” he explains. “then last week, when we started that competition, i found a whole new way to drive you crazy. and i liked it a lot more.”

“this is the most convoluted apology i’ve ever received,” you remark with a sigh.

“after saturday, seeing you like that... you were far from pathetic. and it made me proud. i think, somewhere along the way, i just became really fond of you,” jiwoong confesses, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “and i also desperately want to buy you better clothes.”

“okay, i’m leaving now,” you announce, turning on your heel.

“what a coincidence. me too,” jiwoong says, grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours as he starts to drag you with him down the hall. “you’re hungry, right?”

you start to protest, but as you look at his handsome side profile— dark hair covering the tips of his ears— you realize you are, in fact... hungry.

“starving,” you answer. 

he stops walking to look at you, eyes widening with surprise. “yeah? what would you like to eat then?”

staring at his lips, you can’t help but lick your own. “mina’s right, y’know.”

jiwoong’s head tilts, the corner of his lip upturning slowly as he registers your expression. “is she?”

“mhm,” you answer, pressing your lips to his. he responds quickly: soft, lazy, and stupidly addictive. you can’t believe you let him get away last week without kissing you. you could give him just one chance, couldn’t you? “but what she doesn’t know...”

he attaches your lips again, free hand cupping your jaw.

“is that one taste of you...”

jiwoong inhales sharply as you gently bite his bottom lip.

“just isn’t enough.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

hao 🎻

you rush into orchestra on tuesday, already five minutes late. unfortunately, your regular bus never showed at the stop. and then your back-up bus also never showed. which means you had to walk all the way to campus when you hadn’t planned to— your violin case in tow.

rehearsal having started already, you make a beeline for your seat and frantically open your violin case. luckily you’d warmed up your instrument before you’d left your house this week and your bow is ready to play when it hits the violin strings. 

or, it would be, if you didn’t just realize you forgot your sheet music.

“oh, for fucks sake,” you mumble, looking up at the sky and begging for the sweet release of death in this tragically embarrassing moment.

a soft creaking noise draws your attention to your left, where you find hao’s music stand is suddenly angled in your direction.

he doesn’t say anything or look at you. he just keeps playing. and so you follow the first chair’s lead.

rehearsal goes surprisingly well. you’re sure you managed to correct all of your mistakes from last week after being able to put more rosin on your bow.

“third and fourth chair are falling behind the tempo,” hao replies when professor ahn asks him for notes about the performance. your eyes widen when he names a violinist other than yourself that needs correcting. “it makes it harder for first and second chair to successfully introduce and complete the next movement.”

first and second chair? hao was voluntarily grouping you together?

professor ahn seems as surprised as you. she nods, writing down her own notes in the binder on her music stand. she waves her hand, dismissing the orchestra for the day. you clean your violin, getting it ready to be put back in its case as your classmates begin to file out of the orchestra room.

“(y/n)-sshi,” professor ahn calls suddenly from the doorway. your heart drops to your stomach at the mention of your name. “you actually played quite well today. i’ll assume it’s because you had the help of the concertmaster’s annotations. don’t be late again.”

you nod quickly, bowing your head respectfully to her. “thank you, professor-nim. i’ll play even better next time.”

you’re left alone with hao as usual, both cleaning your violins with the utmost care. when you finish, you place your instrument in its case before fishing around in the side pocket and pulling out something small.

hao locks his violin case, placing it sideways at his feet. finally, he looks at you.

you hold out the cake of rosin that he’d given you last week and told you to bring to your next rehearsal. you’d be remiss to notice that even though you didn’t show him until after class, he never told professor ahn that you’d stolen it like he threatened.

hao examines the rosin, completely ruined from what you’d both done with it. there was no cleaning it and you couldn’t use it if you tried.

you expect to catch some attitude, but, to your surprise, he smiles. “guess it couldn’t be salvaged, huh?”

“guess not,” you agree with a shrug. “at least you got some use out of it.”

“mm,” he hums after a moment before reaching down and reopening his violin case delicately. his hand disappears into one of the side pockets and pulls out a fresh cake of his premium rosin.

and then he hands it to you.

you stare at it in your palm, wide-eyed. “w-what are you—”

“you’re a pretty decent violinist,” hao says matter-of-factly. “sometimes— not often— but sometimes i feel like you have the potential to be almost as good as me. but you’ll never reach it if you don’t start using higher quality products to care for your instrument.”

“oh,” you reply, brow furrowing as he locks up his violin again. “so you’ve decided to take pity on me now?”

he smirks. “something like that.”

“i guess it’s better than pure hatred,” you respond, rolling your eyes as you tuck the box of rosin into your own violin case.

“i never hated you,” hao says with a frown. you sit back up, lips parting as your eyes meet his. “i didn’t particularly like you, but i only told professor ahn about the mistakes you were making because they were careless. you always came in the next week with those same mistakes completely perfected.”

“so you were motivating me through public shame?” you clarify, one brow piqued in disbelief. 

“doing whatever it takes to improve the sound of the orchestra is what sets a great concertmaster apart from a mediocre one,” he explains, deciding to paint himself as a misunderstood martyr. 

“oh, i’m sure it was so difficult for you to step up and take one from the team,” you mock, a laugh escaping you at hao’s audacity. “do you hear what you’re saying? you’re so fucking full of yourself. who gave you the right to play god and—?”

hao leans in, connecting his lips to yours mid-rant. your breath hitches in disbelief as he pulls back.

“would you be mad if i said i wanna get to know you better?” he asks, hand resting on your thigh.

you look down at his long fingers on your soft skin. “furious,” is what you answer.

he presses his lips together in a hopeless smile. “i’ll take it that means you don’t feel the same way then.”

“you always think you know everything about everything,” you huff, grabbing his hand in yours and bringing it further up your thigh. “but you don’t. so i guess you will have to get to know me better if you wanna keep being an insufferable know-it-all.”

as soon as a smile appears on hao’s face, it’s replaced by the cutest frown. “i’m sad now.”

“why?” you ask, not sure how your answer could’ve possibly made him sad when it was the one he wanted.

“i took for granted how absolutely fucking adorable you are when you’re angry,” he whines, a disheartened little pout on his pretty lips. “kind of makes me wish i could keep making you angry from time to time.”

you blink at him, looking around awkwardly as a reluctant smile grows on your face. “i mean—... i guess i’d have to worry about my playing skills suffering if you stop completely. that wouldn’t be very responsible of concertmaster-nim.”

“no, it wouldn’t,” he replies, biting his lip in a smirk. you’re fully aware of what this title does to him. “so what should i do to keep you playing well?”

you look up at the ceiling, considering your options. “maybe you could see what other things in the music room fit up my—” “that’s depraved,” hao scolds, shaking his head at you in shock before a grin peeks through. “are you free right now?”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

matthew 💪

with three weeks left of your soccer unit in phys. ed, you braced for an awkward class on wednesday. as you wait outside in the warm, spring breeze with your classmates, you waited anxiously for matthew to show up.

he doesn’t. 

coach yang blows his whistle, signaling for you to form a straight line in front of him. luckily one of your classmates asks the question for you.

“coach-nim! where’s matthew hyung?” the younger boy asks in front of you. “we wanted to talk to him about the game.”

“ah, matthew-sshi is on a strict regimen of weight-training and cardio until the championship,” coach yang answers with a sigh. a little quieter, he adds, “and maybe that’ll teach him to stay in line.”

maybe, you think. maybe not.

it’s a surprisingly pleasant p.e. class. your classmates are respectful, giving you as much grace during the game as possible. your sunbaenim from your calc class even pushes you behind him when a ball comes a bit too quickly towards your face.

“thanks,” you say with a smile.

he smiles back. “don’t mention it.”

this class sure was different when someone wasn’t trying to kill you the whole time. that being said, you’re pretty disappointed that matthew isn’t here. you can’t help but wonder how he would’ve treated you today after saturday night.

when class is over, coach yang hands you a hose, some rags and a ball trolley. he still can’t look you in the eye after what happened. “here’s your supplies. shouldn’t take you more than an hour.”

you nod ashamedly, getting to work right away.

“and a word of advice,” coach yang adds over his shoulder. “don’t be afraid to put him in his place from time to time. you played well today without him. it’s nice to see you have some more confidence, (y/n)-sshi. good luck.”

the last thing you were expecting today was a pep talk from coach yang. you walk over to the right side of the field and pick up a muddy, grass-stained ball and bring it over to the hose. washing it thoroughly and buffing any stains with a rag, you drop it into the ball trolley and make your way to the back of the field to retrieve a couple more.

you grab one from behind the goal, turning around to fetch the other one. but as you do, you come face to face with matthew— tossing the ball gently back and forth between his hands.

“hi,” he greets shyly. 

your lips press together in an awkward smile. “hi.”

he doesn’t say anything else for a moment, so you brush past him— bringing your ball back to the hose. he follows behind you quietly, placing his soccer ball on the ground beside yours. you pick up the hose and douse them both in the cold water.  matthew picks up a rag and kneels down on the ground next to you, buffing the soccer ball you’d brought over.

you pick up the one he brought over, doing the same. “that one was mine.”

his eyes widen, holding out the ball to you wordlessly in an attempt to give it back.

you can’t help but laugh. “i was just kidding.”

“right,” he replies with a nod, returning to cleaning the ball. “sorry.”

you raise one eyebrow at him quizzically. “are you okay?”

“hm?” he asks before nodding quickly. “oh, yeah. i’m fine.”

“are you sure?” you question further. “because this is my punishment and you’re helping me when you should be getting ready for practice.”

matthew shrugs. “it was my fault.”

“it absolutely was,” you agree, tossing your soccer ball into the trolley. “and you got away with it scot-free.”

suddenly, matthew’s hand reaches toward your forehead— thumb brushing over the tiny scar from where the ball he kicked had scraped your skin. “i shouldn’t have.”

well this is... new. matthew taking accountability for his actions? you never thought you’d see the day.

“i—... um...” he stutters, starting to pick at the grass in front of him. “i think i should probably be punished. for that. and for a lot of things.”

oh.

so he’d really liked it.

“oh. should i tell coach yang to—,” you play dumb, starting to stand up like you’re about to march right into his office yourself. 

“NO! ... no. no,” matthew grabs your hand, keeping you seated next to him. he bites his lip, clearly embarrassed by what he’s about to say. “want you to do it.”

“huh,” you reply with frown. “i thought you didn’t really prefer people who were tainted.”

“you aren’t tainted,” he says, shaking his head. “that—... that was really immature of me to say. and gross. and i’m... i’m sorry.”

you look at him for a long moment, studying his eyes to see if he’s being genuine or not. there’s no obvious signs of lying. he’s very nervous, but it’s not because he’s being untruthful. maybe it’s because he finally is.

“and i can also assume that you said sorry to the waterboy?” you ask, pressing your lips together in an attempt to not laugh at his panicked expression. “and that defense player on the other team? actually, you should probably just draft a mass apology and send it to every university team you’ve ever played against. it would save some time.”

matthew nods sullenly. “yeah. i can do that.”

you have to admit, you like matthew quite a bit when he’s like this. he’s agreeable, apologetic, and distressingly adorable.

“i appreciate your willingness to cooperate,” you reply, patting him on the shoulder gently. “i think... maybe... we could make this work.”

matthew’s eyes light up at this. “really? you’d wanna keep doing... this?”

you smile. “yeah. it doesn’t sound so bad, now that you’re being nice to me.”

matthew smiles with embarrassment, avoiding your gaze. “i guess i should’ve tried this approach last year. but i—... have you ever heard of alpha male podcasts?”

“matthew,” you groan, palm flying to your forehead in disbelief. “you’re gonna unsubscribe from every single one of those, okay?”

he nods frantically. “of course. they didn’t get me anything anyway, except a light ‘roid addiction.”

“do not tell anyone that, oh my god,” you reprimand, hitting his thigh. “you’re also gonna throw all of that out immediately.

“ah, it was so expensive though,” he winces, tilting his head as he weighs the consequences. “can’t i sell them instead?”

“JUST GET RID OF—,” you shout, cutting yourself off when matthew suddenly leans over and kisses your cheek.

he grins. “you’re so beautiful when you’re disappointed in me.”

“you’re—... you—...” you stutter until matthew leans in again, pressing his lips to yours this time. he pulls back, leaving your brain hazy. “please don’t be so mean to me again.”

he shakes his head decisively. “i won’t. i promise.”

you smile, stomach fluttering as he beams at you. 

“but, like... you’re okay with being mean to me sometimes, right?” matthew asks, scratching the back of his neck.

“oh, absolutely,” you answer with a nod. “i’ll start now.”

he laughs passively, obviously interpreting this as a joke. “sure, sure.”

you stand up, hovering your foot over his crotch. “finish cleaning these soccer balls. now.”

matthew’s eyes widen with fear, hopping to his feet immediately, bowing his head to you, and sprinting off to the end of the field to complete his task.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

hanbin 📝

“hanbin-ah!” you shout, running down the dimly-lit, empty hallway. how far could he have made it in the few minutes since he’d stormed out of the activities lounge without so much as a word. 

“hanbin-ah...”

a banging down the hallway to your right seems to signal his location. you turn down it, running until you reach the end and a long hall of public lockers unfolds before you. to your left is a very distraught hanbin, clanging his locker door about as he holds a small book in his hands.

the floor is littered with torn up pieces of paper, that seem to be coming from the book he’s holding.

“FUCK,” he yells, ripping out another page from the book and crumpling it up— tossing it onto the ground, where it lands at your feet.

you bend down and pick it up, carefully unfolding it and reading what’s written:

what the fuck does (y/n) see in junseo hyung-nim? i thought that poem was for me. could (y/n) really choose him over me? is he better than me? i don’t understand. what did i do wrong?

it’s a diary entry— your name, mentioned twice. the confession contained in it sends a chill down your spine. hanbin had posted your poem about junseo sunbaenim out of spite.

out of jealousy?

you pick up another crumpled paper and unfold it, reading:

i just hung up all the copies of the poem around campus. i got the other guys in on it, too. maybe this’ll teach you not to take people for granted. maybe it’ll keep you thinking about me.

hanbin throws his empty journal across the hallway, sitting down on the ground with his back against a locker as he runs a hand through his hair in distress.

you walk over to him cautiously, standing in front of him and waiting until he looks up at you. you hold out the pieces of paper from his journal and drop them on his lap. “so you decided to ruin my life because you couldn’t have me?”

hanbin reads the writing on the crumpled papers, tears suddenly spilling over and streaming down his cheeks. he wipes them away as quickly as they come. his chin dimples up with sadness. it reminds you of something...

you look in his locker, finding his messenger bag and opening the flap. you dig around gently until your hand wraps around it.

you sit down next to hanbin, back against a locker as you place the little, plush hamster in his lap. he stares at it for a long moment before finally picking it up in his hand and giving it a gentle squish. a tear falls onto the hamster’s nose.

“you found this the other day?” he says, rubbing the back of his hand across his cheeks again.

you nod. “he’s cute.”

hanbin smiles. “i was hoping you’d think that.”

“what do you mean?” you ask, a confused pout forming on your lips.

“i was hoping you’d think he was cute,” he says, running his thumb over the hamster’s fur, “when i bought it for you.”

“what?”

“on the class trip to the national library last year,” he continues. “we sat next to each other on the bus and you pulled three plushies out of your bag like it was the most normal thing ever. and you told me all their names and what they wanted to be when they grew up.”

“hanbin-ah...”

“and we took those polaroids of each other outside on the grass. and ate kimbap at the picnic table in the garden. and ran around together finding the weirdest books we could. and then, in the giftshop, they had a bunch of cute plushies themed off of children’s books and...” hanbin rambles wistfully. “and i bought this one for you while you weren’t looking.”

“hanbinnie, i’m so sorry,” you interject truthfully. you see the full picture now and you never had before. “i shouldn’t’ve been so oblivious as to make you feel like i was leading you on, but i was. and i never should’ve told you about that poem in the first place. i’m sorry.”

he blinks back at you before shaking his head adamantly. “it’s— it’s not your fault.”

“but i hurt your feelings,” you assert, meeting his gaze. “and i never wanted to do that. you were my first friend i made at university. actually, you’re the only friend i’ve made at university. how pathetic is that?”

he shakes his head again, brow furrowing sadly. “it’s not. it’s—... it’s my fucking fault that that happened. it’s... it’s all my fault.”

“hanbinnie, it’s—... it’s okay, you—,” you try to alleviate his burden, like the moral person you are.

“no, don’t do that. don’t say it’s okay, because it’s not,” hanbin asserts, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his palm. “i made you share something you didn’t want to. and i betrayed your trust. and i—... fucking—... all because i couldn’t handle my own emotions?”

you chew your cheek nervously. “listen, it’s okay—.”

“you’re the nicest person on the fucking planet if you can sit here and say that’s okay,” he says, a sad laugh escaping him. “i don’t deserve your forgiveness, but... i don’t know if i’ll ever be able to fully express to you how sorry i am.”

you don’t respond, stunned by hanbin’s genuine apology. 

“i could try, though, if you want me to,” he blathers on anxiously. “i could write a hundred thousand words worth of apologies and you could rip them all up and make me start again and—.”

“he looks like you,” you interject suddenly.

he frowns. “hm?”

“the hamster,” you clarify, holding out your hand. eyes wide, hanbin places the hamster in your palm. “he looks a lot like you.”

hanbin doesn’t say anything, his eyes trained on the side of your face as you squish the little plush. 

“it’s funny, actually,” you hold the hamster up for him to see. “looking at this hamster and trying to be mad at him is a lot like how it feels when i look at you.”

eyes still wide, hanbin’s bottom lip finds its way between his teeth— not sure how to answer to your overwhelming mercy.

“you’re right. that wasn’t okay,” you say as you bring the hamster to your lips, giggling after you give him a little peck. “but this is okay.”

“this?” he repeats.

“doesn’t this feel pretty nice?” you pose, eyes locking with his. “us getting along?”

hanbin nods slowly. “yeah. it does.”

“what do you say we continue this?” you ask with a smile. “indefinitely.”

“i—...” he stutters as a smile grows on his lips as well. “i’d really like that.”

“me too,” you agree, eyes abruptly narrowing. “but it’ll cost you.”

his brow raises, swallowing hard at your words. “absolutely. anything. name your price.”

you hold up the hamster to the side of your face, doing your best to mimic his little expression. “i want him.”

if hanbin’s eyes could turn to cartoon love hearts, they would. but because he’s a human person, his pupils simply dilate. “you—... i—... he’s yours. he was always yours.”

you grin, giving the hamster a hug. “thanks.”

“thank you,” he says, still reeling from your cuteness. “i’ll miss him, but he’s where he belongs now.”

“maybe you can visit him sometimes,” you offer, biting your lip shyly. “you’re clearly his biological father, after all. i’m sure your presence in his life is nothing less than enriching.”

he laughs. “some father i am. i didn’t even manage to give him a name.”

you smile. “he has a name.”

hanbin tilts his head curiously. “he does?”

you nod. “his name is binnie. jr.”

his cheeks turn red at this suggestion. “really? you want to name him after me?”

you don’t answer. instead, you ask softly, “hanbinnie?”

“yeah?” he replies eagerly.

“do you...” you start, finding the confidence to finish your question. “do you still like me?”

hanbin’s breath hitches in his throat. “um...”

“it’s okay if you don’t,” you assure with a sigh. “i just... a year ago, i didn’t even know someone like you would be interested in me. you’re so handsome. and smart. and the soccer team’s star player. i never even considered the possibility that you felt that way about me. but now, i—... i have more confidence. maybe you accidentally gave it to me, but i have it nonetheless.”

he looks at you intently, waiting for you to continue.

“and i think i realized that... i want you to like me,” you confess. “i wanted you to like me the whole time. i just didn’t want to admit it because i was afraid it was too much to ask for. and i—.”

“(y/n),” hanbin interjects with the fondest smile imaginable. “i like you so much i think my chest might explode.”

you can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face. neither can he. hanbin brings his hand to cup your jaw, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

“oh and i’m sorry i fucked all your friends right in front of your face,” you say, pulling back momentarily.

hanbin laughs, shrugging it off. “i totally deserved it. and... it was pretty hot.”

“keep kissing me,” you request with a smile.

“don’t have to tell me twice.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

taerae 🎤

after a completely bizarre session of portraits and quotes for the campus newspaper, the boys all awkwardly grab their things and head out the door. as you place your clipboard and pen on the activities director’s desk, you see a familiar backpack shoved behind a chair. you forgot you’d stashed taerae’s bag and phone in here when he didn’t come back for it on friday.

you walk over to it, picking it up off of the floor and slinging it over your shoulder. you shut off the lights, walking down the hallway until you spot your former best friend— sitting alone on the entrance steps to kang hall in the spring night air.

you plop yourself down next to him, placing his bag on the step in front of him. he turns to you, eyes red and watery.

“oh, tae,” you whisper, head falling instinctively to his shoulder. 

“why’re you comforting me?” he asks with a sniffle. “you should be punching me in the face or something.”

“would you prefer it?” you joke, trying to get him to smile. “because i can absolutely just—.”

“this is good,” he says with a breathy laugh.

“good,” you affirm, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “i love you.”

“(y/n),” taerae seems to plead. “i can’t—.”

“i love you,” you repeat. “and i miss you so much.”

“i—...” he stumbles verbally, but grabs your hand in his. “i—.”

“when did you lose your virginity?” you ask, tilting your head curiously. 

he gulps. “uh... a couple years ago.”

“and you didn’t tell me?” you question, a little hurt that he’d kept this big news a secret from you even when you were still friends. “to who?”

taerae shakes his head anxiously. “it’s not that important.”

“oh, come on,” you urge, squeezing his hand. “i told you i lost mine to sungchan oppa during that pool party at mina’s dad’s house.”

he flinches at this. “i remember.”

“it was that same pool party where you threw up in the pool,” you say with a smirk. “an eventful night for both of us.”

“mhm,” taerae mumbles shortly. he was definitely growing more bothered with each mention of that party.

“and to think, a couple of years later we’d do what we just did,” you muse in an attempt to dig something more out of him. “we’ve come so far from you throwing up in the pool at the thought of kissing me.”

“i never said that!” taerae exclaims with frustration. “you said that. and i just... went with it.”

you shake your head, brow furrowing confusedly. “then why did you throw up?”

“because—... because i was nervous,” he says softly. “i was so nervous to kiss you that i threw up in mina’s dad’s pool and then i was so embarrassed that i couldn’t even open my mouth to deny that i was disgusted by the thought of kissing you.”

you blink at him in shock. “did—... did you have feelings for me?”

after a long moment, he nods. but there’s more tension lingering under the surface. you know there’s more that needs to be said.

“i really liked you,” taerae confesses softly. “i never wanted to weird you out or anything, but i just liked you from the first day i met you. i loved being your friend, but i just couldn’t help it. when you told me at that party that you’d hooked up with sungchan hyung... i just got so jealous. i thought i could be cool about it, but i was drunk and...”

your eyes are wide, clinging onto his every word.

“and i hooked up with someone, too,” he admits with a pained expression. “i thought it might be the only way to make you jealous back, so i—... i—...”

you hold your breath.

“i hooked up with mina!” he exclaims quickly, looking down at his lap in shame.

“YOU WHAT!?” you scream, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look you in the eyes. “that’s not fucking funny!”

“i know it’s not,” he replies despairingly. “i regretted it instantly afterwards. no— while it was happening. i was so disgusted with myself. i hated lying to you, but i just couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth. i thought i wouldn’t have to until last year, when hanbin hyung came up to me in the hallway after class.”

your brow furrows at the mention of hanbin’s name.

“he said he knew what i’d done with mina. apparently he had a few friends that went to the party,” he explains sadly. “and that if i didn’t do exactly what he told me to, that he’d tell you what i did and he’d make things even worse for you. i just couldn’t let either of those things happen.”

“how—... how did you even manage to bag mina?” you ask in a daze.

“well, i mean,” taerae grimaces. “it’s mina.”

“she’s a total slut,” you nod, catching on immediately. “more power to her.”

“the most power to her,” taerae agrees quickly. 

“why didn’t she tell me?” you wonder.

“oh, that one’s easy,” taerae answers with a shrug. “she said she’d rather die than let anyone know we slept together.”

“that sounds like mina,” you affirm. so the truth was out. it’s hard to wrap your head around everything all at once, but you were definitely relieved that taerae didn’t actually hate you. he was just an idiot.

“i’m so sorry, (y/n),” he apologizes genuinely. “for everything.”

you sigh heavily. “i’m sorry, too.”

taerae’s eyes widen in surprise. “what do you mean? you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“i’m sorry i bragged to you about losing my virginity. i could’ve been more sensitive with that information,” you reply. “and i’m sorry that i said you threw up in the pool, because you didn’t want to kiss me and never asked you what the truth was. i could’ve been more considerate of my best friend.”

“i love you,” taerae says abruptly. “being without you this year was literally the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you nod in affirmation. “let’s never do it again.”

“never,” he agrees with a wide, dimpled grin. that smile you missed so much. you watch it fade naturally, replaced by a fond gaze. but you desperately want to see it again.

so you do the only thing that you can.

you kiss him.

he pulls back after a moment, that perfect grin shining back at you. it’s enough to light up the night sky. 

“i know i was using the past tense before, but,” taerae says, biting his lip. “i still really like you.”

you smile, pulling him back in to meet your lips again. “prove it.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

group (poly) 🥵

you look around the room, every boy avoiding eye contact with you in an attempt to quell the awkward tension. it feels amazing. exactly how you were hoping it would.

"so, uh," jiwoong starts, scratching the back of his neck. "are we gonna do those interviews now?"

you shrug. "you can just text me a quote, if you want. probably easier actually."

they all agree nonverbally, the uncomfortable haze still lingering in the air.

"you can also text me about when you'll be free again," you add, the boys heads turning rapidly to look at you.

"uh... which one of us?" matthew asks with a frown.

you shrug. “whoever’s down.”

“you—… you wanna do this again?” hao asks, lips parted in shock.

“why not?” you answer honestly. “i had fun. but if you’re not into it, that’s okay too.”

“i’m into it!” hao replies a bit too quickly. “i just meant that… i didn’t know you would be.”

“i guess before last week, someone would’ve had a hard time convincing me that i’d wanna do this once— let alone twice,” you admit with a smile. “but i think i’ve proved i changed.”

“and you’re okay with… changing?” taerae asks, worry in his eyes.

you nod definitively. “yeah. i am.”

“so, after all this, you’ve decided you just wanna fuck all of us whenever you want?” hanbin asks, standing up from the desk he’s sitting on and walking over to you. “you really think you’re hot enough for that?”

you smile at him. “no one’s forcing you to participate.”

hanbin frowns, studying you as you hold eye contact.

“don’t be too upset, hanbinnie,” you say with a pout. “you’re the one who wanted me to fuck your friends in the first place. you just forgot to consider i might end up really liking it.”

he stares at you for another long moment. and then, he smiles. “i guess you’ve won your own game then?”

you smile back. “i guess i have.”

“then i have to pay the price, fair and square. we all do,” hanbin nods with respect— an undeniable warmth in his gaze. “congratulations.”

you look at the other boys around you— excitement reaching their eyes as you grin. were they really all yours now?

“thanks,” you say happily. “i couldn’t have done it without you.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

group (revenge) 😈

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

you look around the room, every boy avoiding eye contact with you in an attempt to quell the awkward tension. it feels amazing. exactly how you were hoping it would.

"hey, is that camera on?" jiwoong suddenly asks, pointing at the camera you set up by the photo wall to take portraits for the campus activities interviews.

at least, that's why you told them you set it up.

"there's a little red flashing light," hao observes with a frown. "to the left of the lens."

"did—... did you record this?" matthew asks, fear palpable in his eyes as he looks at you.

you hop off the desk you're sitting on, grabbing your shorts and shimmying them on. walking over to the camera, you hit the record button again to stop filming. then you, take the camera off it's tripod and throw it in your bag that's sitting on the ground beside it.

"it was a pleasure doing business with you boys," you say, making your way towards the door.

hanbin stands up, grabbing your shoulder. "what are you gonna do with that?"

you shrug. "nothing."

his brow furrows tensely, not sure whether to relax or not.

"yet," you finish.

"(y/n), please," taerae begs from behind you. "please don't post that."

"i'm not gonna post it," you say, rolling your eyes. "i'm in the video, too, remember?"

the boys look around at each other, not sure what to do.

"but if i have to," you threaten, unlocking the door, "i won't hesitate. could anything be worse than what you've already put me through?"

"wait, (y/n)!" jiwoong calls. "we're—... we're sorry. we're all really sorry for everything."

"i'm sure you are," you reply, opening the door and exiting the activities lounge...

"i'm sure you'll stay sorry for a long time, too."

[noiriarti]

The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 4

NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, maybe mild degradation. semi-public sex WC: 6.7k AN: sorry this took so long to churn out y'all! i'm currently at a crossroads where i could make this fic end at 5 chapters, or extend to 10 and really cook the plot. please let me know which you'd prefer!! i really love all the responses from every single one of you, and, if you all want to see the crazy shit (and smut) i have planned, i'd love to hear it! until then, enjoy this self-indulgent chapter. requests and asks are open, as always <3

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, [Ch. 4], Ch. 5, Ch. 6

Chapter 4: Breaking

Anakin woke up first. Because of course he did. Because of course the universe tortured him with the beauty of your sleeping face, naked in his arms. Last night was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and that counted winning Nationals and his first Lego Robotics kit. The previous night, when you lay down on his chest and said all those sweet things, no anger in you at all, he felt his stomach do a full flip, and he accepted right then that he loved you. Once he let the thought in, it was done. He loved you. And that was pure torture, because he knew he wouldn't do anything about it. The two of you were too delicate, too breakable right now.

He watched your sleeping face in the morning light the way a moth watches the moon, bright and so unattainable, with your peaceful eyes and full lips. Those same lips that sneered at him, that told him how smug and horrible he was. He really didn't know how he could be so stupid as to sleep with you. Anakin knew he was never someone who could keep his feelings and his dick separate. He knew it. But the second that you seemed interested, he offered it so freely, probably because he was already done for at that point. Last night, he wanted nothing more than to make you feel pleasure, to make you shake under him and say his name. And now, he was aware of what he had done to himself. What he had been doing to himself since freshman year.

The thought propelled him to get up, to move around. Anakin never could stay still for long. He closed your bedroom door softly, trying to avoid waking you up after he put his clothes back on, then sat on your couch to have a moment to think. A moment where he couldn't smell your shampoo or feel the skin of your stomach against him. Fuck. He leaned his elbows onto his thighs and put his head in his hands.

What was he going to do? Could he even do anything at this point? If he told you how he felt, that he wanted to be more than just someone you slept with, he genuinely didn't know what you'd say. What was the probability that you had feelings for him? Something other than just carnal, animal desire? He'd been noticing, lately, that you were less likely to snap some rude comment at him. That you were, maybe, just maybe, softening towards him. Maybe he was just deluding himself into reading into the soft touches last night, or the fact that you didn't kick him out. But maybe he wasn't. And maybe you'd be scared away by the suggestion that he had feelings for you, for any one of a million reasons. You were only six months from graduation, or some ex still had your heart, or maybe you just didn't want to be seen with him. There were infinite possibilities, and he didn't know which, if any, would happen if he told you. The uncertainty was killing him.

But the biggest thing stopping him was the competition. It made everything so hard between you, and maybe he would have said something if he didn't have to see you every day for hours until he graduated. If he could just run away if you rejected him to lick his wounds in peace. But, if you said no, he'd have to watch you ignore him, watch your perfect, deft hands build something brilliant.

He felt like an idiot. He had put himself in this position. And he couldn't really afford the time commitment of spending hours a day with a fuckbuddy/girlfriend/whatever this was right now. He hadn't fucked you without thinking about it, it was just that he was weak around you. Sure, he was horny and repressed and hadn't gotten some in a while. That's what hands were for. But, in all honesty, he hadn't been interested, really interested, in anyone since sophomore year. Then you came along, the one person he should hate, always next to him in the lab. As he got to know you better, he felt that lump growing in his chest, the one that meant that he was going to be hurt, inevitably. That much love never ended well.

Oh, fuck, what have I done?

He heard hinges creak, and, for a second, he thought you were up, but it was Ahsoka, heading out for a run based on her joggers and jacket. And he was wearing last night's clothes in your living room in the early hours of the morning. Shit. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened, from the timing to his messy hair.

"Hey, Snips." His voice wasn't as confident as he hoped it would be, but Ahsoka took pity on him.

"Hey, Skyguy," she said, sitting down next to him on the couch and wrapping an arm around him. Anakin hesitated for just a moment, before leaning his head onto her shoulder. She was his second-in-command, and she knew things he didn't tell pretty much anyone else. Ahsoka was dependable, if annoying. She was who he imagined his little sister would be in some alternate universe where he had a bigger family. It irritated him to no end that she could read him like a book, especially with the look she was casting him. She knew the slump of his shoulders, the faraway look in his eyes.

"You caught feelings, didn't you?" She said into the silent room. There was a peace, a still serenity to the morning, and he found himself tired of hiding.

"That easy to tell?" He let out a little snort. Of course it was.

"Yeah." For her, at least. She'd seen him cry in pain after a competitor dislocated his shoulder, and she'd seen him go through his breakup with Padme. "Well, why don't you say something?"

"I'm scared that it wouldn't work out, that it would end badly." The confession was quiet, vulnerable. Anakin could practically hear Ahsoka rolling her eyes affectionately.

"You're already enemies. You literally hate each other. How much worse could it get?" There was a smile in her voice, but Anakin was serious.

"So much worse. You don't know--I don't think I could handle silence. Anger, hatred, that's whatever. But silence, not talking, that would kill me. When we're just casual--it's safer. Even if it fucking hurts." He'd never been a guy for casual hookups. He'd never had one before. Anytime he had sex with someone, it had to be emotional for him. Deeply.

"But you already have feelings, so you're going to get hurt if it ends, regardless of what label you put on it. Just… say something, Skyguy." Her arm wrapped around his shoulders squeezed him comfortingly. He nodded, still far away in thought. The possibilities spun around in his mind like debris in a hurricane, smacking him around like a ragdoll. Everything was chaos, and he just wanted to learn more. To know more about how you felt.

"I think I just need more time. To figure out what this is. If there's anything I can do. And I can't let myself get distracted from work," he said. The problem was that, when he got like this, he knew you would be the only thing on his mind, night and day. The only thing that kept him from going insane would be his work, what he was building, but you would always be there when he was working. And that would throw him off his game by a country mile.

"You work too much, Skyguy." Anakin barked out a laugh, a resentful sound.

"Maybe." What was too much? He didn't know the concept.

Every second, every iota of willpower within him was dedicated to getting through college and getting a good job. To making a future. To making money. He swore to himself, when he learned what a bill was and why his mom would cry in her room when the envelopes with the red stamps came to their door, that he would never let her worry about money again. She had done enough of that for a lifetime. Whenever she got him a gift that he knew was expensive, his heart would break. After she bought him the Lego Robotics set, he said he didn't want any gifts for Christmas anymore, only his birthday. Said he didn't want to celebrate consumerism, or some bullshit like that. He used the set until it stopped working. And then he fixed it, and wore it out again. For years, he was angry about how unfair it all was, how the world could punish his mom this way, but all of it boiled off until all that was left was determination, thick like syrup. Then he started the odd jobs, fixing computers for people with small bits of equipment he borrowed from the school robotics team. He worked part-time at the dojo in exchange for lessons, and collected every scrap of prize money he could. He'd slip the twenties he got into his mom's wallet in the middle of the night, his bare feet padding on the tiles, hoping she wouldn't notice.

He only accepted Coruscant University because of the full ride they gave him. If they had offered any less, he would have had to go to Tatooine State University. And now, if he won, $10,000 was enough that he would probably have to make up some excuse for her to accept it, like a thank-you gift for being a good mom. Or maybe he'd invest it and take out small chunks once a month that he could slip into the family bank account, maybe pretend he got a new part-time job. That is, if he won. If.

Whenever he thought about not winning, about what that would mean, he felt a pit open up in his stomach, sucking him up whole. But if he won, a different pit opened up. You'd never forgive him for it. He knew you'd never be able to get over the resentment, the anger at him if he won. You held grudges longer than anyone he'd met before, and this would probably be unforgivable in your book. That was, if he even won.

"When did life get so complicated? If I win, I feel guilty because it'd ruin everything that we're doing. If I don't, I don't even know--I have to win. I can't afford not to. I--I just wanted to make robots." The feelings spilled out of him, letting some pressure off of his heart, but he could feel his eyes prickling. Anakin blinked quickly, getting rid of even the threat of tears. Ahsoka could tell, he knew, but she had the decency not to mention it. The arm around him rubbed his shoulder, saying I know. It's okay.

"It doesn't seem that complicated to me. All you can do is your best with your project, and with… other things. It'll all work out, I promise," Ahsoka said, with such authority in her voice that Anakin believed her.

"Thanks, Snips." He pried himself off of her shoulder, though it was a Herculean task, and threw her a forced smile.

"Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, I'll make you do sprints at practice," he added, and she laughed. Ahsoka pushed off the couch and grabbed her water bottle, then was at the door in a moment.

"I'll see you later, and… I do mean it. Say something," she said as she opened the door and slipped out of it.

That left Anakin alone on your couch, thinking and turning the possibilities over in his mind until he lost his patience and came back into your room. You were still laying in bed, and his heart ached. Anakin came up to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. Something you probably wouldn't have let him get away with if you were awake, honestly. You shifted a bit

"Good morning, sleepy. Let's get to work," he said.

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Anakin spent the rest of the day distressingly far from you. First, after you had breakfast together, which made his heart race in an almost embarrassing way, he had to leave immediately for a meeting at the Jinn lab. Then, he had to race to TKD practice, because he was teaching the intro, the intermediate, and the advanced group today, which was definitely evidence that God hated him. He shoved some kind of sandwich from a dining hall down his throat on the shuttle back to the engineering department, where he then sat for four hours working on replicating the results from some test Obi-Wan had run that morning. At some point, he ate two protein bars from his backpack. Anakin was so busy, he almost didn't have time to think or feel, and that soothed him the slightest bit.

Then came the thesis lab, at 10. It was packed to the brim with students. All twelve of your cohort apparently found their way out of the woodwork tonight. He checked the calendar. Seven days until fall semester submission, so that made sense. Most of them probably hadn't even started. Whatever, that just meant less real competition.

When he entered the lab, his eyes found you instantly, the way they always did. You'd saved the workbench across from you for him, a gesture which almost made Anakin pass out. He tried not to read into it as a sign of affection, he really did. He did not succeed. You gave him a little wave and a smile, asked him how his day was, and he went almost dizzy with joy.

By the time an hour passed, he realized that he had done remarkably little. He thought back to that morning, when he was sure having sex with you had been a bad idea precisely because it felt like such a good idea. Anakin decided that he was correct to feel that way, because he couldn't focus on anything right now. You bent over your lab bench to reach something in the back, and he wanted to walk over and sink his fingers into your soft cheeks. Maybe something else. When you lent over your workstation, which was across from his today, and he got a perfect look down your shirt to your perfect bra and tits, he tried to hold back the flashes of how your nipples felt under his fingers and tongue. Each stretch of your lithe neck reminded him of how desperately he wanted to suck a deep red mark right there, then watch you walk around with it.

He really was trying to resist, but he wasn't good at it. Anakin already knew he was weak when it came to you, but this was a whole new level. He was hard, in public, because of you. While he pretended to read an email sagely, a hand crept under his lab bench to palm himself, just to take the edge off. Somewhere around his hip, he remembered Obi-Wan could be watching, either now or years down the line, and his hand retreated to the desk. So much for that idea. But he could deal with a little erection, right?

Wrong. So, so wrong. Because, right in his line of sight, you were trying to unplug a stuck power supply, and you were making these sounds, these grunts and groans, that went straight to his cock. Fuck. Each sound that escaped you sounded almost like your little moans while he ate you out. He could practically still taste you, feel the nub between your legs under his tongue. When you finally got it, you let out a little celebratory yes! which was definitely something he heard last night when you were riding him. The weight of your body on him, the way your tight pussy swallowed his cock whole as he looked into your eyes, the smell of sex in the air.

The image was too much. Anakin's resolve crumbled, and his hand went down all the way until it reached his sensitive head and applied just enough pressure to satisfy the itch. Apparently, that wasn't nearly enough, because his body immediately demanded more more more, greedy and obsessed with what you were doing to him. He had never been this hungry for someone before, like you were the very air he needed to breathe. Since you arrived at the lab, it had been sheer torture. It had gotten him to the point where it might just break him not to fuck you, and soon.

Anakin took a deep, ragged breath, then turned to his project. He inspected what he had done, and he found that he had connected the wrong resistor to the top of the circuit, as well as put the input cable in the wrong place. If he had turned it on, it would short the whole thing. Probably blow out the MPU6050-6 gyroscope and accelerometer chips he had spent hours soldering on yesterday.

Okay. Enough was enough. If his horniness was getting in the way of his work, he had to go take care of it. Nothing could stop him from winning. Anakin muttered out that he was going to the bathroom and rushed off down the stairs to the basement, to one of the private bathrooms.

As soon as the lock clicked behind him, his right hand immediately locked onto his cock through his pants, stroking it as he popped the button with his left. He barely had enough willpower to take his hand off of his cock while he unzipped himself and pulled it out. He was hard, leaking, desperate. He spat in his hand, then pretended it was you stroking him. Slow, languid. Those eyes looking up at him through your lashes, telling him you how badly you wanted him. Fuck it, he thought as he sped up and twisted at the top, just like he imagined you would. He didn't have his cock in your hands or mouth last night, and he was starting to wish he had, if not for the feeling, but to have the mental image stored away. Or maybe an actual image. What if he pulled out a camera while your pussy swallowed his cock whole and wrung the life out of it as you bounced on top of him? Or maybe while you played with yourself for him, fingers shoved within you as you mewled about how badly you wanted him inside you instead?

Anakin nearly came from the image alone. He stopped, just for a second. He wanted to take care of himself quickly, but, when it came to you, he wanted to make it last. Spend time in that space where he meant so much to you. Anakin leaned his body, already sweaty with need, back on the cool metal tiles, his hand on the safety rail. He counted down from 10, just to let his breathing slow and wipe some drops from his forehead, then started fucking his fist again.

Less than five seconds in, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Motherfucker. He pulled it out, just to see, hoping it was you. It was.

Hey, you ok? You've been gone a while

You were worried about him. Fuck. Anakin sped up on his cock. What would you think if you knew he was thinking about you and jerking off? One-handed, he typed out a quick yeah, be back soon, but his phone buzzed again a second later.

If you have some kind of stomach flu and give it to me, I'll smash your bot right now

He breathed out a laugh, but it got caught in his throat as he rubbed his thumb across his frenulum. Anakin almost made a few mistakes as he was typing out his response, but managed to write back.

thanks. but i'm just taking care of something. b back soon

Less than a millisecond later, you sent him a response. How did you type so fast? How would those fast, precise fingers feel wrapped around his shaft?

Does that mean what I think it means?

He sent a quick response without thinking. No, he was not jerking off in the work bathroom because just being near you turned him on beyond belief. Nope.

get your mind out of the gutter, he sent back. But, even if you suspected what he was doing, why would you ask? Maybe you would join him, if he asked. His hand got frenzied at the thought. Twitches jolted his cock. He sent another text.

maybe

Would you want some help with that? Your text flashed up on his screen and hit him like a truck. So you were interested. Maybe you were kinkier than he thought. Maybe he should have asked you to come down here with him, whispering in your ear in the lab so you could follow him, and only him, wherever he wanted so he could fuck you until you couldn't walk.

He typed I bet you'd enjoy helping me. Being on your knees for me, but then deleted it. Scaring you off was the last thing he wanted to do now.

if u want, he sent instead.

You instantly responded. Where are you?

This was happening. It was actually happening. Anakin gripped the base of his cock violently to make sure he didn't cum while he waited. He had to be patient.

basement bathroom, down the hall from the motion capture lab, he typed.

I'll be there in 2 mins, I'll knock 4 times

Those two minutes might just have been the worst two minutes of his life. Waiting, cock in his hand, for you to get there, precum dribbled out of him like a fountain. His cock was already slick with his spit, but it had dried while he waited. Despite the fact that it had been a bit since he last touched himself, he wasn't getting any softer. It was like his body knew you were getting closer, about to touch him. Like it knew you were about to put your soft lips around him.

When the knock on the door came, he did up his pants, unlocked it, and stepped to the side. On the off chance it was someone else, randomly using this exact bathroom.

But it wasn't. It was you, your hair pulled up, away from your face, breathing just a bit heavily from the way you had obviously run down the stairs. You were excited for him, and a thrill shot through him as he realized that he knew you well enough to recognize that.

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In the lab, you had noticed Anakin was off, somehow. That morning, he was so tender to you, helping you up and getting breakfast with you. The way he made you laugh over your off-brand cereal squeezed your heart. When he left, telling you he needed to go to work, you flashed into some future where the two of you were at a run-down kitchen table in some tiny apartment you shared, spending a few precious minutes together before you had to rush off to your jobs in the city. You shook it away.

You spent most of the day working on a thermo problem set in your room, trying desperately to understand how this would ever matter to you. Sometime before lunch, Ahsoka messaged you.

Hey, I forgot my water bottle at home. Can you grab it? I'm at the athletics center xx

You rolled your eyes. Of course you'd bring it. You found it by your little kitchenette area (which was comprised of a definitely-against-the-rules hot plate and microwave), probably discarded last night when Ahsoka was studying. You grabbed it, the metal cool under your fingers, and filled it with water from the Brita in your fridge for good measure. She'd probably forget to fill it during practice if you didn't.

You decided to wear some comfortable slides for your walk to the athletics center, which was only two buildings down from your dorm. The concrete of the imposing building always felt threatening and harsh. The machines were a bit run-down inside, and it wasn't your favorite gym of all time, but they had a pool and volleyball courts, so you found yourself there sometimes for intramural sports, if one of your friends convinced you.

You scanned your ID at the front, and the student attendant gave you a look which questioned why someone wearing sweats and slides, carrying nothing but a water bottle, would show up to the gym at noon on a Sunday. Whatever, you'd be out of here soon. You bounded up the stairs to the second floor, which housed the aerobics room, where Ahsoka told you the team practiced. You saw some of the others--Cody, Vaughn, Rex--in the corner, talking to Ahsoka in their kits. You cracked open the glass door and waved her over. Her bare feet smacked on the wood flooring as she plodded toward you, a bright smile on her face. Once she met you in front of the door, she grabbed the water bottle and guzzled it down until little rivulets slipped past her lips. She was sweaty, and, even though her white and blue braids were tied back, some had fallen out and hung loose around her face.

"Hey! Thank you so much, I was literally dying," she said, winking.

"Yeah, I can see that," you said. Ahsoka let out a little laugh and told you she needed to get back to it, so you were about to turn to leave when you saw a familiar figure.

Anakin. He was in front of a crowd of students, almost all of them wearing black belts, with some smatterings of red belts, as he demonstrated some sort of combination of kicks. You didn't really know that much about taekwondo, even though your roommate was really dedicated to the team, and your whatever-Anakin-was had won about a million championships. You'd never really seen Anakin do anything, though, but you almost had to stop your jaw from physically dropping.

He moved so precisely, so agile and sleek. And then someone took out three boards, thick, wooden things, and he smashed them clean in half with one kick. Details flooded you. The way his standing foot corrected itself to support him, so well-tuned to his body. The furrow of his brow, the beads of sweat collecting on it. The taut muscles in his chest that peeked out from the slightly open vee of the kit. The way his mouth opened in a yell you could hear through the door, an angry, powerful sound that sent shivers down your soul.

You were wrong about him. He wasn't just otherworldly. He was so much more. When he moved like this, you imagined him on a battlefield, cutting through a swath of enemies with those strong limbs like they were nothing. He was ethereal, battle itself come alive, strategic and controlled and precise, but vicious.

Whatever he was showing ended, and the pupils started attempting some mimicry of it. But none of them would ever come close to him, to the way his body moved. You wanted him all to yourself, in that moment, when you realized how incredible he was. You didn't want anyone else to snatch even a fraction of him, of his brilliance. As the jealousy of some imaginary people tugged in your gut, you turned and left. You had work to do, and this was… distracting. Hard to look away from. Hard to stop thinking about. But you could manage it.

Even in the lab that day, when you'd found a bench and saved him a seat, the image of him, snapping out his hand at the wood, didn't leave you. It was like trying not to think of an object, it just kept popping up in the screech of the bandsaw, in the wood flecks that speckled the ground near the drill press. It was everywhere.

It only got worse when Anakin arrived, a few hours later, shooting you glances that made your body simmer. When he sat at his computer and typed, you wondered how you'd never seen that side of him before. How you didn't see that those hands, the ones that had been inside you just hours ago, were so strong. So dangerous. Something stirred within you. That chest that you'd run your hands over held so much power, and the thought of him using it on you, to lift you up and throw you around, made you far wetter than it should. Your clit twinged when you remembered that this very desk was the one he had lifted you up on that first night. Jump. His hands were so strong under your legs, like you weighed nothing. Not that you were tiny or delicate, he was just that strong. You looked across at the table at him. Anakin was precise in the lab, too, his hands twisting the wire in his hands under his fingers just so. Could he grab your clit like that too, and pull and twist? Watch you squirm under him?

Fuck, you had to snap out of it. You caught him looking at you, and he smiled when you made eye contact. Shit, you'd forgotten how cute that smile was when it wasn't full of contempt. It was only turning you on more.

You threw yourself into work, pulling off a horrible plug that wouldn't release no matter what you did, then typing out some words into your running lab log. When you looked up, Anakin was looking at you and breathing heavily, his face suddenly deadly serious. You suddenly felt like his next meal, and the thought made you shiver. After a few seconds, he told you he was going to the bathroom, and asked you to keep an eye on his prints.

The twelve people there had dwindled to six, counting you and Anakin, so you started to wonder if you could get away with going home early once he returned and either fucking him the second you got home, or fucking yourself silly on your vibrator when you got home.

So, when he implied in a text that he was, in fact, jerking off downstairs, you needed to find out where he was. Immediately. His strong hands wrapped around his cock would stay in your fantasies for years. And, you hadn't had him in your mouth yet. And, fuck, you wondered how he would taste, now that he had been teasing himself for so long.

The basement was quiet, empty. You didn't see anyone in the motion capture lab on your way over, so you two would probably be safe. A thrill bubbled through you--fucking in semi-public was something you'd always wanted to try, but no one you'd been with had been willing. You were sure that your panties were more than a little wet at this point, but it wasn't just that you were doing something so daring, it was the fact that you were doing it with Anakin.

The four knocks on the door came quickly, and you heard the tell-tale click of the lock. You opened the door, then found Anakin leaning up against the wall.

"Hey," he said, nonchalantly. That charm was really serving him now, distracting you from the red in his lips and the heave of his chest. You noticed anyway.

"Hey."

"So, uh. I don't have a condom or anything, so we probably shouldn't--y'know," he said, seeming a bit unsure what you wanted to do. His index finger rubbed the metal bar protruding from the wall that he was leaning on.

"Yeah. I was hoping that, um," the words fell short on your tongue. Was there a sexy way to ask this? One that would guarantee he'd say yes?

"What is it?" Anakin was suddenly curious, not ready to accept your pause, or the "I-uh" you uttered as you searched in vein for some innuendo to use.

"C'mon, tell me." His tone had more of an edge to it, one that made you blurt out what you were thinking without a question.

"I was hoping you'd fuck my throat. Hard." You looked up at him, and he was looking at you a bit like he looked at those boards at practice. Like a goal. Like something he wanted, something he'd get. Anakin stalked over to the door and clicked the lock so that no one could get in, then turned to you.

"Get on your knees for me, baby." His voice was so gruff that you did what he said immediately, and dropped onto the hard tile floor. You were on your knees, and all that mattered in that moment was him. His pleasure. "Take it out," he told you, his eyes fixed on you. Your hands came up to his thighs, shaking in anticipation, then ghosted along his hard cock in his jeans. It jumped under your fingers, eager, but you continued up and undid his button. While Anakin stared down at you, you glanced up at his furrowed brow and tightened lips before slowly, teasingly, drawing down his zipper until it showed you his boxers. You hooked a finger under the waistband and drew them down until his cock, hard and heavy, bobbed in front of your hungry mouth.

His head was dark, leaking precum. Anakin had clearly been playing with himself for a long time before this, and you could see some wetness along the shaft, probably spread across his hard cock by his hand. The veins were defined, angry and desperate. One of his hands came up to your jaw, caressing it, then trailed to the back of your head to pull your mouth closer to him.

You reached up and grabbed around the middle of his shaft experimentally, just to test his reaction, and he let out a huff. The skin was so soft and silky under your fingers, and you wondered if the head would be smooth and warm in your mouth. You tested that theory immediately, taking the entire head in your my mouth in one go. You were both too impatient for teasing right now.

"Ahhffuuuck," he groaned as his other hand braces him against the wall. You hummed, but your jaw was open as wide as it could go, so it came out incoherent. Your tongue darted to his slit, lapping up his precum, which was salty and musky, like the rest of him last night. It was Anakin's smell, something masculine and sexy that made you get even wetter. Your tongue started brushing over different parts of his head, feeling the spongy head and the smooth bumps of his frenulum. He really liked it there, it seemed, based on the sharp inhale and small eye roll you saw him give.

You loved his reactions, you loved watching him lose that filter that pretended he didn't want to do horrible, rough things to you. Your head started bobbing as you worked your lips over and over across the rim of his head, letting the whole thing pop out of your lips over and over. Words would probably start pouring out him soon like last night, and the memory of him saying ride me was enough to propel your hand down to where your splayed out thighs met.

"What? Is blowing me in the bathroom turning you on?" There it was. You nodded, his cock still in your mouth. Yes, it was turning you on more than it had any right to. Knowing that someone could be right outside the door while you stuffed him deeper down was everything you wanted. You took more of him in, going as far down as you could, before he hit the back of your throat.

You gagged on him, your body begging for air, but then he used the hand that was behind your head to shove you off him. His fingers wrapped into the hair at the base of your skull and turned you up to face him. He was completely disheveled, the sweet Anakin still there, but a kind of sweet that terrified you, that would ruin you while whispering how good you were in your ear.

"Well, go on. Touch yourself while I fuck your throat, baby," he said, his voice commanding but caring, which only made you wetter. You didn't waste a second, dipping your fingers into your pussy, which was almost shamefully wet. As soon as he saw you sink down on them, he used the subtle opening of your mouth to shove his cock deep down inside your throat, then pulled back and thrust in again, harder. His cock was practically thrumming under your lips, needy and insistent.

The feeling made you speed up your fingers slamming the walls of your pussy, but it wasn't enough. Nothing other than him was ever enough. Desperate for anything to dull the need, you thrust your hips into your palm, grinding against it while your fingers were still buried inside you. The extra friction made you whine around him and squeeze your eyes shut as he worked you back and forth. Suddenly, his hand in your hair wrenched you off his cock.

"Eyes open, beautiful. Look at me," Anakin growled. You instantly opened them, staring up at him. He was wrecked for you. His open mouth huffed out hot, ragged breaths, and, under your fingers, his thighs were clenched so hard you thought they'd give out. As soon as he saw your eyes on his, he lowered you back onto his dick, this time even more frenzied when he saw the devoted look you were casting him and your cheeks hollowed out. You were doing your best to suck the life out of him, and it was working. Quiet grunts started ripping out of his chest every time your tongue passed the bottom of the head of his dick.

"Ffffuck yeah, suck my cock--You like when I pull your hair hard like that? Like it when I use you?" The words were unfiltered, wild. You nodded as best you could, but his brutal pace moving your head was too much, so you tried to say yes, please, I love this so fucking much, but it came out as a series of incoherent noises around his length. Anakin smirked, ravenous, when he heard your desperate cries, but quickly had to squeeze his eyes shut and let his mouth drop open in pleasure. You loved seeing him come apart like this, just because of you. Because of your mouth. He recovered quickly, and words, dirty things, started pouring out of him.

"Yeah, I know you do. Can you feel how much I wanted to bend you over that fuckin' table in the lab? How much I wanted to--shit--slide my fingers inside you and watch you fuck yourself on them?" You whimpered around him, his words going to your head. Your pussy was on fire, heat spreading to every part of your body. He sped up, and you could feel his head smacking the soft flesh at the back of your throat. Your lips ached, your knees ached, your pussy ached, but you would do anything for him at that moment. And he knew it. He cursed under his breath. "Fuuuck, you're so fucking good at this--just like that, baby." It only took a few more seconds before you felt his thighs seize, his balls tightening and his cock starting to jerk and twitch in your mouth. You tongue was so tired, and you weren't sure breathing was even something you remembered how to do anymore.

"Gonna--fuck-- gonna cum. Gonna paint your fucking throat," he groaned, letting noises fall from his lips as you saw it finally overtake him. You were so far gone that you could barely feel your wrist from the amount you were moving it. You could barely feel anything except his cock tensing up inside your mouth. His orgasm burned through him like a wildfire, and, based on the loud gasp that ripped from his chest as the first shot of cum hit the back of your throat, he was losing himself in it. It was bitter, so salty, but you barely tasted it as it slid straight down your tongue. The next spurt hit you, and his hips thrust sharply into your wet, hot throat, but the cum stayed on your tongue this time. It was thick and tasted like a more intense version of his precum painting your mouth. Anakin rode out his orgasm, still buried inside you, then gently pulled his cock out and let go of your burning scalp.

You looked up at him with the best doe eyes you could, then stuck your cum-covered tongue out for him to see. His eyes were half-lidded, but curious. You wanted to badly to make him desperate for you again, to make him need you the way you needed him. Then you took it back in, and made a show of swallowing all his cum.

He groaned, giving you a fuck, baby as he recovered from both the image and his orgasm, and you registered, somewhere far away in your mind, that it was the first time he had called you that outside of sex, and that you wanted to hear it more.

His warm hand trailed your jaw, a bit tentative, holding you like you might shatter in that moment. And, you were. You were shattered, horny beyond belief and desperate to be taken care of. Every joint and part of your body ached, but nothing mattered other than having him inside you as soon as possible.

"Please, Anakin, I--I. I need to be fucked--I need you inside me, please," you begged, still on your knees for him. Anakin offered you a hand up, then helped you get off your sore joints. For a moment, you wondered if he'd leave you alone with your dripping, aching pussy, as some revenge for something. For some sin you'd committed years ago. But then he spoke, his deep blue eyes boring into yours with a heady mix of sincerity, sweetness, and something else. Something deeper.

"I'll take care of you, don't worry. But, first, you're gonna go upstairs and tell everyone you're going home, but you'll wait for me by the entrance. Then, when we get back, I'm going to fuck you on my bed until you can't walk straight."

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Tag List (please let me know if you'd like to be added! i'm also searching for beta readers for this series, just to tell me if you like the concepts of each chapter, so message me if you'd like to chat about that): @skywalkercinema @throughparisallthroughrome @anak1ns-wife @radiantvader @eloquenceinpurple @rosekillerdaughter @doblasftcisco @rhiannonhippiegirl @mistress-amidala @mortalheartache @xorilixx @sunnytotheend @olivia091108 @aniiuv @sotal3rsa @springnaiad @bettysgardenswift @ursogorgeous13 @avalovesjoe1 @anibeaar @anisluvrgirl @johnbassplayercutie @mcdonaldshelppage @usuck @sythethecarrot @lovrsm

[hyunniesgirl]

Another Love | Part 4

Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.

Words count: 6,639

Warnings for this chapter: angst(as usual)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

A/N: I'm sorry it took me a bit longer to write this part, I'm just in a weird place right now. I'm doubting a lot about my skills as a writer and that leads me to believe everything I write sucks so this was a bit harder to write, I hope you all like it though.

Jisung has been dreaming about you lately. Going back to every little memory he has with you, watching all the signs you gave him while he was oblivious to you, to your feelings.

It's been almost a week since Han ended things with Lia. The things she said are still stuck in his head, he can't be in love with you. Not after rejecting you. Not after everything you went through to get over him. Not now, when you're happy with someone else.

Things are going back to the way they were before, except that now your roles are reversed, he's the one hanging on your every word and movement, all the little details about you look fascinating to him. He's never felt this way before.

You're not avoiding him anymore. Things fell into place slowly, you started having dinner together again, talking about your day. Then you got back to making coffee for him in the morning, waking him up with the nice scent so he wouldn't be too grumpy woking up so early.

He has a mission now: to stop these strange thoughts he's having. Even if he is indeed feeling this way about you, he lost his chance. He knows he did. Right now, he wants to focus on being a good friend to you, the same as he was before the confession happened.

Jisung just didn't expect how he would feel seeing you with Jeongho again. You invited all your friends to dinner in a nice restaurant, to officially introduce your boyfriend to everyone.

This must be how you felt seeing him with all his previous partners, you must have felt this ache in your chest, as if someone was holding your heart and squeezing it to their heart's content.

You look pretty, hair tied in a ponytail and a dress he never saw before, maybe it's a gift from your boyfriend, he wouldn't know. He avoids talking about your relationship, too selfish to handle the same pain you did for so many years.

Your friendship is getting back to what it was, even though he screwed up really badly, you were the bigger person and forgave him, so he has no right feeling this way about you.

Jisung knows it would be better for you and for him if you didn't come back to the apartment but he's too greedy, he wants you close to him.

This whole problem began because he was greedy, afterall. He didn't want to stay away from you, then he hurt you again and again trying to fix things. Now he just wants to make things right, he just wants you to be happy.

You're smiling so brightly it actually makes his heart skip a beat. He sips from his drink, trying to calm his heart a bit and watch as the others try to make small talk.

“So how did you meet y/n?” Chan asks Jeongho.

“I had the biggest crush on her in middle school but she mercilessly rejected me”, Jeongho answers, looking at you and smiling playfully.

“I thought he had lost a bet or something”, you defend yourself.

“Why would you think that?” Han asks, surprised and you stare at him for a second before shrugging. Of course Jisung was not the only reason for you to reject Jeongho, you were just learning about your feelings at that time. You just couldn't get your head around why someone older and handsome like Jeongho would want to have anything to do with you.

“Y/N was one of the prettiest girls in our school”, Han comments, not understanding why you would feel like that.

He always thought you were pretty, that's why he always complimented you and gave you clothes saying they would look good on you.

“I think teenagers are just insecure. I guess it's part of growing up”, you sip from your wine glass.

Jisung never thought you were insecure about anything by the way you carried yourself with your head high, always so sure about everything you put your mind into. Maybe there's too much he doesn't know about you.

The rest of the dinner goes well, your friends are being nice and trying to make Jeongho comfortable, you're happy about it. Everything seems to be falling into place with your best friend by your side being his normal self and your boyfriend, the guy you're falling in love with being just perfect. Your heart is finally healing, you're moving on, things are working out. You couldn't wish for anything else, you just want things to stay like this forever.

“Are you happy?” Jisung asks when you're outside the restaurant, Jeongho stepped out to take a call from work and left you and your friends alone. One by one they called it a night, saying their goodbyes and leaving you and Han alone.

You stare at him for a moment before answering.

“Yes, I am”, you're not sure why he wants to know and not even sure why you're thinking so much before answering.

Jisung smiles, a sincere and bright smile.

“I'm glad”, he says, “I want you to be happy”

You are a bit taken aback, you didn't expect him to react this way, he almost sounds like a grown up now.

“Thanks, I-”

“I'm sorry I kept you waiting”, Jeongho's voice cuts you out. He slides his arm over your shoulders pulling you closer.

“I should get going”, Jisung says, turning his gaze away from you and your boyfriend.

“Aren't you going home?” You ask and he shakes his head, he's not sure if he can stay at the same place with you two for much longer. “Oh, are you going to Lia's?”

There's not a bit of discomfort in your face, so he just nods. He's not sure if now is the best moment to tell you about his situation with Lia.

“Okay, see you tomorrow then”, you hesitate, not sure if it's appropriate, but you try not thinking too much, throwing your arms around him, squeezing him into a hug. You would never think twice about hugging him before your confession, there's no need for you to make it awkward now.

You're trying to get things back to the way they were and Jisung notices that, he's grateful. So the only thing he can do is wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you back.

Jisung didn't want to lie, but he's afraid it may be uncomfortable to you if he says he's not with Lia anymore. And he's afraid you'll be able to see right through him, see that he is giving in to the strange feelings he's trying so hard to avoid.

He ends up sleeping on Chan's couch, if he could call that ‘sleeping’. Everytime he closes his eyes, you show up in his mind, smiling, making a joke, just looking at him. Everytime he finally managed to fall asleep, you would be there, together with your boyfriend, giggling and kissing him while Jisung just watched. He would wake up sweating and stare at the ceiling for at least ten minutes before trying to sleep again.

>><<

After pondering what he wanted to do from now on, Jisung decided he should have some closure with Lia. He didn't like the way things ended with her, he really liked her until a certain point and above all, she is a good person. Even though he didn't want to, he ended up hurting her and he should apologize for that.

Awkward. That's the best word to explain the situation that Jisung finds himself in right now. Lia is on the other side of the table, glaring at him like she could kill him with the power of her mind.

“What is it that you want?” She asks, coldly.

He clears his throat, trying to gather some courage.

“I want to apologize”, he says, “I shouldn't have lead you on even though I already knew something was not right”, sighing he looks at her, biting his lower lip, “I'm just… confused, I ended up hurting you in the middle of this mess and I'm really sorry”

Lia looks at his eyes, staring deeply. She can feel his sincerity but she's not sure if only an apology is enough to make up for the pain he caused. She's not crazy, she knows people can't control how they feel most of the time. Maybe if he just admits he likes you, she'll feel at ease.

“So, have you finally accepted that you're in love with y/n?”

Jisung thinks for a bit, trying to put what he is feeling into words.

“I don't know if love is the right word”, he says, fidgeting with his fingers, “but I'm feeling some weird things around her, when she smiles or laughs, or even when she's doing nothing”, he covers his mouth with his hand in a slap, wide eyes, realizing he is talking about being in love with someone else with the girl that likes him.

Lia chuckles.

“It's alright, I'm pretty sure that's the definition of love though”, she sighs looking at Jisung. “Maybe you never felt that before”

It's not easy for her to be kind and comprehensive at the moment, but it's not like being mean is going to make him like her back. She's not actually even sure if she wants that anymore. Maybe her heart just accepted things ended, maybe she was already preparing herself for this since Han started acting differently, but the pain is not as great as she thought it would be. Maybe seeing him naively admitting his feelings made her have some sympathy for the mess he made of his relationship with you, maybe she didn't like him as much as she thought.

Since the beginning, there were too many maybes in this relationship. Lia knows she deserves better, she deserves someone who's sure about her, no maybes.

“I think I can forgive you, yeah”, she chuckles seeing Jisungs shocked face, “not now, obviously”, with a sigh, she looks deeply into his eyes, “you were always great to me before things started going wrong and I know you're not a bad person”, she stands up, “I'm actually feeling bad for you, with the mess you created I have no idea how you're going to fix it, but I'll cheer for you”, she puts her hand in his shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance. Lia leaves Jisung there, stuck in his head once more. At least that is something they both have in common, because he sure doesn't know how he's going to keep these strange feelings under control while fixing his relationship with you.

>><<

If Jisung had to rate his acting skills, he would be proud to say he deserves an award. He's succeeding at pretending not to be in love with you while maintaining a healthy friendship.

It's almost the same as it was before, except Jisung has to watch his every move. He's trying to act normal while trying to crush the onslaught of feelings in his chest everytime you laugh at one of his jokes, or when you just talk about your very normal day.

You both do your things during the day, have dinner together and talk or watch something before sleeping, that's your routine when Jeongho is not visiting.

You've been watching your phone lately, more than usual, is there something wrong? He's sure you're just waiting for Jeongho's call. Jisung has lost count of how many nights he spent listening to your laughs on the phone with your boyfriend, wishing it was him making you happy like that.

It's true, he's struggling. He's not sure how you managed to like him for so long without freaking out, because he's about to collapse and it's been just about a month since he came to terms with his feelings.

He feels bad just thinking about how much you must have suffered because of him, before and after your confession. Guilt is eating him alive, along with heartbreak.

He's been watching you for a while now, you are washing the dishes while talking about these kids you tutor and how smart they are, he's staring at you with heart eyes—you're not seeing—while he dries the dishes.

“I'm sure they can only learn so fast because it's you teaching them”, Jisung says.

You giggle to his compliment, bumping a shoulder into his.

“Should we watch a movie before going to bed?” You ask, drying your hands on your apron.

“I'm actually kinda sleepy”, Jisung laughs, he can only keep his feeling bottled for so long, he doesn't want to get careless and blurt out everything. He knows that if he gets too comfortable he'll feel at ease and you were always too good at making him tell you what's on his mind.

“Let's do it another time then”, you shrug, taking your phone out of your pocket and smiling when the screen brightens with Jeongho's name.

Han feels his chest tighten, he wants to throw up, he wants to cry, he wants to plead for you to not like someone else. But he can't do any of those things, not when you're so happy. So he won't be selfish, he'll think about you first and keep his distance.

>><<

It's been almost a month since the last time you saw Jeongho. He was not able to come by on the usual weekends because the company he works for is opening a new branch somewhere and he is involved in the project.

He's been busy, texting less and not even calling, so you start getting insecure. What if he's getting cold feet about your relationship? Maybe he met someone more interesting who's near him.

No. Jeongho wouldn't be like that. He would break up if he didn't like you anymore, you know him enough to know that.

When he calls saying he's coming to see you, you feel excited once again. You knew you were mistaken, it's not right to presume the worst just because he's a bit more busy. It must be nothing.

You just can't shake the feeling that you were going through the calm before the storm and now the bad weather is finally coming.

He's waiting for you at the restaurant of the hotel he's staying in, Jeongho is fidgeting with his fingers nervously, looking around until his eyes land on you. You smile at him, waving at him but he doesn't smile back.

“Hey”, you say, dropping your bag on the chair and sitting, “is there something wrong?”

“I received a promotion”, he says suddenly, he doesn't look happy about it.

“That's great”, you smile, taking his hand into yours to hold it, not really understanding his reaction.

He stares at your hands together, taking a deep breath before speaking again.

“Actually, the company wants me to go to Europe”, Jeongho says, fidgeting with his hands.

“Oh”, you frown, “for how long?”

“They are not sure about the exact period, but-”, he clears his throat, looking around, “they are projecting it to be between five and eight years”, he replies, feeling his breathing quickening.

“They want you to move there?” You repeat it to yourself, trying to absorb the information.

“They are trying to make an entry in the European market, so a team is needed there to develop the new branch”

“Okay, yeah”, you feel dizzy, “we can work with that, hm, I can- we can visit each other”, you nod, trying to organize your thoughts.

“Y/N-”, Jeongho starts, his voice fails and he stops for a moment before continuing. “Long distance works right now because we are a 2 hour flight away from each other, not 12 hours”

“What are you saying?” You feel all the air in your lungs escape, knowing exactly what he means but choosing not to believe it.

“I don't think we can keep doing this, I'm not sure our relationship is going to survive and-”, he sighs, running his hand through his hair, “I won't ask you to come with me”

“Why not? Why won't you ask me?” You plead, feeling tears brimming in your eyes. It's not logical what you're asking of him, but you don't want to hurt anymore, not again.

“How could I? I can't make you leave your whole life here, your family, your friends or college to go to a country where you know no one but me”, he explains, “I’ll be in charge of a large project, I'll have to stay late probably everyday and you're going to stay alone, how could I do that to you?”

“Don't you think that's for me to decide?” You ask, feeling your hands shaking. You put them in between your legs, trying not to show him the sight of your broken heart.

“I can't- I can't carry that guilt with me”, he says, “not knowing how happy you are here, if you go with me and things end up not working out I could never forgive myself”

“What if things work out? What if we are happy together forever? Did you consider it for a moment?” You ask, he's not looking at you. Jeongho is trying to hold his own tears, trying to be strong for you, “I guess this relationship is not worth you considering it”, you stand up, grabbing your bag.

He lifts his eyes to look at him, finding your quivering lips and the tears flooding from your eyes.

“Well, good luck then”, you tell him, turning around and walking out.

After walking far enough from the hotel, you let yourself crouch on the floor, scaring the people walking by. You are sobbing, trying to wipe the tears from your eyes, but they keep coming continuously.

You stand up again, walking, what are you supposed to do now? When are things going to finally get better for you? Since you confessed to Jisung things got worse over and over, you should have never told him about your feelings, maybe your life would have stayed the same.

The hurt you felt seeing him with other people was a pain you were already used to, but this? This is excruciating, it's the same all over again, the same as when Jisung rejected you. Will you ever feel complete again?

It's 3 a.m, Jisung went to the studio to work for a bit and to try to forget about everything else. His phone buzzes in his pocket, when he looks at the screen, your name is there. He doesn't think twice about answering, just to find your drunk voice on the other side of the call. He can't understand a thing you're saying just that you'll share your location with him.

He grabs the keys to his car, running to the parking lot, he drives for about thirty minutes until arriving where you are. The bar is empty, there are only employees cleaning and you're laying on the counter, unconscious.

“It's been a while since we closed, but we let her stay inside since it looks like she went through something”, the bartender tells Han when he gets closer.

“Thank you”, Jisung says, before trying to wake you up with no success. He sighs, looking around and thinking about what to do.

He slides one of your arms around his neck, putting one of his hands behind your back for support and the other underneath your knees, lifting you up.

Your face is puffy, he can see it now that he's looking so closely, you probably cried a lot but what would make you cry like that?

Jisung glances at you a few times during the ride home. You groan, whining something in your sleep, even crying a bit. That makes him even more worried.

He repeats the process of picking you up when he parks in front of your apartment, carrying you inside. You whimper all the way to the apartment, he knows you can wake up at any moment.

Han sits you on your bed, taking your coat off and helping you lay down, covering you with a blanket after taking off your shoes. Your makeup is all smeared, so he picks a wet tissue and starts rubbing your face, trying to take off everything he can.

You open your eyes slowly, seeing Jisung with a focused expression while whipping your face.

“What are you doing?” You ask, making him jump. He was so concentrated he didn't even see you waking up.

“I was trying to take your makeup off”, he says, “it's not good for you to sleep with it on your face”

“How did I come home?” You look around, stumbling a bit over your words.

“You don't remember calling me?” He asks and you shake your head. “I went to the bar to pick you up”

Jisung is still whipping your face while he talks, that's when you remember why you were in the bar in the first place and tears run out of your eyes again.

“What happened? Why are you crying like this?” He asks worriedly, helping you sit on the bed.

“I don't- everything goes wrong for me”, you say, sobbing. “Maybe I'm the problem”

Jisung sighs, pulling you into a hug and holding you tightly, feeling your tears soak his shirt. He's worried and doesn't know what to do, should he call Hannah? Or Jeongho? Jisung knows you went to meet with him earlier… wait, did that guy do this to you?

After you stop sobbing for a while, Jisung realizes you fell asleep in his embrace. He lies you on the bed, covering you with the blanket once more. He leaves a glass of water and some hangover medicine on your nightstand so you can take in the morning and prepares his bed on the floor.

You wake up to the bright sunlight coming from the window, your head hurts like crazy and you're so thirsty it seems like a thousand years since you last drank something.

You take the hangover medicine and the water, while sitting down, still a bit dizzy. When your feet touch the floor, it's not the hard ground they meet but something soft. Why is Jisung sleeping by your bedside?

He doesn't look a bit comfortable, although he seems fast asleep. You start poking him, trying to make him wake up, causing your friend to jump and hold your arm.

“Are you alright?” He asks, eyes widened.

You frown at the sight, it's been a while since you last saw Jisung this startled.

“Yeah”, you answer and he can finally let out the breath he didn't even notice was being held. “Why are you sleeping on the floor?”

He looks around for a bit as if he didn't understand why you were asking such a thing.

“Oh, I- hm- I was afraid you would need something so I stayed here just in case”, he tells you and you nod.

It's not an uncommon occurrence for you two to do this kind of thing, even when you were living with your parents. When one of you got sick, it was a tradition to stay by each other's side until the other felt better.

When you moved in with him, naturally, your drinking habits grew since you didn't have to worry about your parents anymore. Jisung was responsible for taking care of you when you came home wasted after partying with Hannah or even when you drunk with him and the boys, he made sure to stay sober enough to still be able to take you home and help you get to your room safely.

“Oh”, you answer, “thank you”

He kept staring at you, waiting for something you're not sure what is.

“Do you want to talk about the reason you got wasted last night?” He asks, awkwardly and the pain comes back all at once.

It was so nice, the period of numbness after waking up from a deep sleep, you wish you could keep feeling that way. Now, your hands are trembling again, just like last night, tears are brimming in your eyes and your lips are quivering. It's obvious to Jisung, you're trying not to cry.

He gets up, collecting the things he used to sleep, without looking at you, he doesn't want to make you any more uncomfortable.

“We don't have to talk about it”, he says, putting the blanket and pillow back in your wardrobe. “Do you want me to call Hannah?” He asks and you stare at him for a moment, nodding to his question, not really wanting to look at your phone.

You're scared Jeongho contacted you, you don't want to see him. But more than anything, you're scared he didn't try talking to you at all, because that means everything is really over.

It's pathetic, you know that break ups happen. But Jeongho was the first guy to ever make you feel the closest to what you ever felt for Jisung, no other could do that and you're scared no one ever will.

Hannah gets to your place about an hour after Jisung called her. She's huffing, hair messed up and puffy face.

“Were you sleeping?” You ask her and she takes a deep breath, seeing that you're okay.

“I'm going to kill that guy”, she yells out of the door to your room, “he made it seems like you were dying or something”

“If I was dying I'm pretty sure he would have taken me to the hospital”, you point out.

Hannah rolls her eyes, dropping her bag on the floor. Closing the door, she walks slowly to sit on your bed, she can clearly see that you cried a lot.

“So, did something happen?” She asks, you avoid her gaze, looking at anything but her face. You find your fingers much more interesting than any part of this conversation, actually. So you pay attention to them, playing on your lap.

“It's nothing”, you answer.

Hannah sighs, if you don't want to talk about it, it means it's bad.

“We don't have to talk about it right now”, she stretches her hand, taking yours and squeezing it. “But you will have to talk about it eventually”

It's your time to sigh now, she's right, you know that, but talking about it makes it real and you don't want it to be real.

“Jeongho broke up with me”, you rip the bandaid all at once.

Hannah gasps, she's speechless. How can this be? She thought he was head over heels for you, so why?

“His company is sending him to Europe and he doesn't want to do long distance”, you feel the tears brimming into your eyes again, voice cracking, “or take me with him”

It's the first time in her life Hannah doesn't know what to say. Your love life is such a mess, worse than hers, so she doesn't have any advice or any comfort to give you.

“Honey, I…”, she tries, but what is she supposed to say? ‘I am sorry?’, that's not it, ‘he is an asshole?’ nothing of the sort.

Looking from outside the situation, Jeongho is being logical, they still are in their honeymoon phase of the relationship, everything is perfect at that time. For most people, problems start to arise after some time. However, when you're in love, you don't want logical outputs, you want what your heart wants.

Hannah is saved by a knock on the door. Han's head pops inside the room and he observes for a moment trying to assess the situation.

“I bought some things you like”, he says, “I'll be going out, so you have the apartment all to yourselves”

He wants you to feel comfortable right now, he doesn't know exactly what happened but you're sad. Jisung knows just letting you enjoy your afternoon with Hannah in the apartment is not going to make things better for whatever is making you feel so down, but he knows you are going to feel livelier after some time with Hannah.

He goes out with Hyunjin, who's buying a present for his mother. It's hot, so if his friend didn't ask very nicely he wouldn't have accepted to go to the mall, since they have to wear hoods and masks. The fact that you're home, crying your eyes out for something he has no clue about, made him want to go out too. It hurts seeing you sad and it's even worse because he can't do anything about it, not when he doesn't know what's happening.

They are looking at bags, maybe he should get you something? You are not really a materialistic person, he's not sure if giving you an expensive present is going to help at all, maybe he should get you that webtoon print you've been talking about, they should definitely have it in the bookstore next door.

When Jisung turns around to tell Hyunjin they should stop at the bookstore, he sees Jeongho. He's looking at bags too, trying to figure out which one he should choose.

Is he giving you a gift too? Maybe he did something and you fought, that's why you were crying so much. Even remembering the way you cried as soon as you woke up makes his heart ache.

Jisung walks to Jeongho, not sure how to initiate a conversation but he feels like he should try and help in some way.

“Hey”, he says, watching Jeongho turn around and look at him.

“Jisung, how are you doing?” He asks, arms crossed in front of chest.

“Fine, are you choosing a gift for y/n?” He asks, awkwardly, “I don't think she likes purple”, he points out observing the bags Jeongho was looking at.

“It's actually for my mother”, he clears his throat, frowning, “didn't y/n tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Jisung asks, confused and Jeongho nods.

“So she didn't”, he sighs, “we broke up”, he struggles to say it.

Jisung's eyes dart directly to Jeongho's face, now he can see the eyebags on his face and how tired he looks.

“Why?” Jisung panics, you shouldn't have to go through another heartbreak.

“I don't think it's something you should know about, if she didn't tell you”, Jeongho shrugs.

“Well, can't you fix it? Whatever it is that is wrong?” He asks, carefully.

Jeongho sighs, he wishes there was something he could do about it, but he's a coward who's too afraid of taking such a big step in the beginning of a relationship.

“I’m afraid I can't”, he says, “take care of her”

Jisung is speechless, he has no idea what to do, so he just watches as Jeongho chooses a gift and walks tiredly out of the store.

Jisung arrives after killing some time outside, he was out for almost the entire day and hopes that you could enjoy a bit of your day with Hannah. He doesn't know if he should bring up his encounter with Jeongho or if he should talk about what your, now ex, boyfriend told him.

He shouldn't mention it, if you didn't tell him about it, it's because you're not ready for you to know and he gets that. Han is not sure about what he's feeling. It hurts his heart to see you in so much pain but he doesn't want to overstep the boundaries you're setting.

So when he enters the house, he sees you and Hannah watching a movie, he greets you both and goes to his room. You clearly cried more since he left and he won't be able to stay in your presence without trying to comfort you.

>><<

Things are difficult for you at the moment. Even though your love for Jeongho never got to its full potential, it's still love. You're mourning what you could have had with him had things been different, you wake up in the middle of the night and can't sleep anymore, feeling your chest hurting and remembering it's over.

It all sank in when he didn't contact you anymore, you're sure he's hurting too but you had hoped that you two could find a solution around this cruel puzzle.

“Should we go out?” Hannah asks while you're watching a drama, burying your sorrows in ice cream.

“I'm not really in the mood”, you say. You haven't cried for some time now, you're too tired, maybe your tears finally dried up.

“I know you don't feel like it”, Hannah sighs, looking at your apathetic face, worriedly, “but I think you should have some fresh air, you have been stuck in this apartment for a week now, it's not healthy”

You sigh, she's right, you know she is, but you can't really find the strength to doll up and go out.

“We don't have to go to a party or anything crowded”, she says, seeing the resigned look on your face. “We can just go to a cafe or something, anything”, she pleads.

You nod, sighing in defeat, maybe a walk can really lift your mood a bit.

Hannah jumps out of the sofa, taking the ice cream from your hands. She talks excitedly about what kind of things you two can do but can't really follow what she's saying, your head is still numb.

You walk around for a bit, looking at clothes in the stores nearby, doing just about anything to think of anything but your break up.

It's already night when you two decide to eat something, there's this restaurant that's kinda hidden so there's not many people eating when you arrive. It's not the first time you eat there, it's a nice and cozy place so you come by when you're needing a little bit of peace.

“Y/N?” You hear a familiar voice calling you, making you turn around to find Lia. She's smiling, there's a man accompanying her. “It's been a while”, she says after telling the man to look for a place for them to sit.

“Hey, yeah it does”, you smile politely. Lia can see the huge eyebags you have and the wide eyes your friend has looking at her.

“Are you alright?” She asks, noticing you barely touched your food.

“Yeah”, you lie, “what about you?” You ask, eyeing the guy who's now looking at his phone while waiting for Lia.

“I'm okay”, she smiles shyly, “it's not easy, you know? But I'm trying to move on, meet new people”

You frown, not really understanding what she's talking about.

“I hope we can still be on friendly terms even though Jisung and I are over”, Lia says, regrets immediately when she sees your eyes widen. He didn't tell you. Shit.

“I didn't know you guys were not together anymore”, Hannah is the one to talk, stealing Lia's attention from your shocked face.

“Yeah, hm, it's been a while actually. I thought he would have already told you everything by now”, she says apologetically. “Well, Han Jisung, let's say that now we are even”, she thinks.

“I should probably go!” Lia points out to the man who's staring impatiently. She waves goodbye to you and walks towards him, afraid she'll tell you something more she's not supposed to.

You find yourself in the dark, seated at the sofa, arms crossed in front of your chest. You can't believe you had to hear from someone other than Jisung about his relationship status. You're mad at him, you were making an effort so things could go back to the way they were so why isn't he acting like he wants that too?

Before, he would tell you everything about his romantic endeavors and even though it hurted, you felt special, knowing every little thing about him. Now, you feel like you know nothing, he's spending less time with you and every time you try doing anything just the two of you, he avoids it like you would jump his bones or something if you stay alone with him for more than two hours.

You may have not gotten over him completely, but you're fine now and for years you could behave yourself, so you're not sure why he's acting like that.

You hear the door being open, Han’s voice comes out in a discussion, he's on the phone. He walks in, putting his phone in his pocket while trying to find his way in the dark. He jumps at the sight of you on the sofa, staring at him with a scowl.

“Jesus christ, y/n”, he says, putting his hand above his heart, “what the hell are you doing there in the dark?”

He turns on the light, turning back at you. You're still staring at him in silence.

“Why didn't you tell me you and Lia are not together anymore?” You stand up, waiting for his answer.

“W-what?” His standing falters and he takes a step back. “How did you know?”

“Clearly I didn't find out from my best friend”, you scoff. “Did you think I would try making a move on you if you are single?”

Jisung frowns, how the hell did you get to that conclusion?

“No, I-”

“I'm sure you already figured Jeongho and I broke up”, you point out, “but you rejected me, I'm over that already”

“I can see why you would think that”, Jisung says carefully, “considering the way I acted when you confessed, but it's not that, I can assure you”

“I'm trying to have a normal relationship with you, you know, but you're just not the same. You don't spend time with me anymore, you don't talk to me about what's on your mind, the only thing I can think is that you're scared of me”

“I'm sorry I made you feel that way, I'm trying to act normally too, it's just-” Jisung cuts himself off, not sure what to say. At the same time he doesn't know what to say to make you stop thinking like that, he's not sure things will get any better if he tells you the truth.

“What's it? Just tell me so I can fix it, please I-”

“I'm in love with you”, he blurts out, hand instantly going to his chest and clenching the place above his heart. “I'm so in love with you it hurts”

You stumble back, almost falling. Did you hear it right?

“I don't think I understand”, you say, frowning, trying to make sense of his words.

“I feel terrible, I rejected you and made you suffer just for me to feel like this now?” He scoffs, “I'm sorry I made you think you are the problem again, but you're not, I am. I'm the one who can't stay close to you because I'm afraid I'll do something that will ruin our friendship”

You get up, trying to function properly after this sudden confession. Never, in your wildest dreams did you think there would come a day when Jisung would actually love you in the way you most desperately once wanted. You fantasized about it for years but you never really thought it would happen for real.

“I can't do this right now”, you say to him, seeing his shoulders slump. The sad look in your face is what he most feared. Jisung didn't expect you to still like him, but it would be a lie to say he didn't have any hope of you telling him he still has a chance.

“I don't expect you to like me back”, he says, voice cracking a bit when he tries to say the words he least want to, “I just don't want you to think I'm avoiding you because of you, it's because of me”

You nod slowly, still not fully recovered from the shock. You walk past him, not saying anything anymore, just entering your room and closing the door silently. This was definitely unexpected.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback give me motivation to keep writing. Also, you can buy me a coffee.

Taglist(closed):

@hhwangsmoon @weareapackofstrays @shycreationdreamland @adestayskz @skizmee @ca11me3mily @realviviboss @sofix-hc7 @starsandrqindrops @its-hannjisung @redstayrosie @mae-is-cute98 @blithevix @astro-doll-the-star @vlctorriaa @captainchrisstan @rag-iii @notastraykid @jisunghannie @applepie-macaroon @stayingdelulu @sundayysunshine @kidrauhlschik @wolfennracha @meloncremesoda @hanschimpmunk @realrintaro @teejisung @maexc @gyustarzzi @ivaneedssleep @chaeryred @daemon-bunny @broken-glowsticks @ch4nniebang @sleepyleeji @seukijeuxq @luvbangchan @lovesunshinefelix @hyunjins-dimples @castielsfrillywhiteknickers @armystay89 @literallyjustwanttoread @jisunghannie @jungkookies1002 @diorggukie @channieandhisgoonsquad @mamabymychem @ladylexis @bmnyy

[claymoresword]

The Queen And Her Knight | Chp: 8

Alicent Hightower x Knight Fem!Reader

Summary: Alicent Hightower against her better judgement, falls in love with her sworn protector. Can she bear to fight her feelings or will she finally just give in?

Pairing: Alicent x Reader

Wordcount: 2.5k

Disclaimer: angst, masc/butch coded reader, alicent is a mess, aemond & y/n, otto is a scheming little prick

Note: honestly idk if it's writers block or just a general lack of motivation but i could not for the life of me convince myself to sit down and write this story lol i'm very sorry for the delay

this chapter doesn't move around too much as it focuses on the events directly after Storm's End. sorry if it's boring... but I really hope it isn't! ok that's it, love y'all

Taglist: @blackbirdv98 @flaiire1805 @alicentfangirl @memarrymilf @thegayassbit-ch @vantestark @hauntedfictionland @livinginafantasysposts @baddie-on-a-mission-xx @evolutionsglory @darthtargnister @dxrewclf @rozmrazaradelfinow @wlwfanfictionss @karsonromanoff

You are jolted out of your slumber with the feeling of Criston's rough hand on your shoulder. "Council meeting, Lord Commander. you have been summoned." 

In your half asleep state, you open your eyes just enough to squint at him, a grimace covers your features. 

"What? Why can't you take the watch, Cole?" You question, rubbing your face in frustration as you sit up in bed. 

You feel a breeze through the open window, it is still noticeably dark out. Nowhere near first light; your expression twists further in confusion. "What hour is it?"

Criston doesn't respond to your inquiry, his jaw is set in a way that always makes him appear mad at the world. "The dowager queen has sent for you, specifically." 

At the mention of Alicent, you quickly tug the blanket off your frame, rising from your bed. "Very well, Ser. I will be out in a moment, just let me dress."

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You observed as Otto Hightower paced the length of the small council chambers, his hands firmly clasped behind his back. His stare is pensive, but he is anxious– despite his meager attempt to conceal it.

Alicent wears a similar look on her face, although instead of pacing she repeatedly brings her fingers up to her lips, gnawing at the skin around her nails.

The sight makes you grimace. Every time you allow yourself to believe she has abandoned the horrid habit, it resurfaces ten fold.

Alicent would manage to chew her fingers until raw and bloody unless you put a stop to it.

Infuriatingly, now you can only afford to rest both hands on the hilt of your sword. You cannot reach out; too many eyes.

The last thing you want is to be seen touching the dowager queen without her leave.

"Your Grace." You chide instead, your voice only loud enough for Alicent to hear.

The dowager queen looks your way, her gaze distant before her eyes finally settle upon your own. 

Your narrowed gaze was enough for her to remove her hand from her mouth, clasping both of them over her belly instead, stifling the impulse.

Something has happened. But what, exactly? 

You want to ask, but the words soon die in your throat as the doors to the chambers open. 

Prince Aemond enters, dressed in his riding attire. His hand propped on the pommel of his longsword, his head held high.

You manage to catch the way Alicent stiffens at the sight of him.

Something is wrong, very wrong.

"Prince Aemond, I am certain we are all eager to find out what matter is so pressing that it requires our immediate audience at this time of night." Ser Tyland is first to address the obvious issue that's been left unspoken. 

The Lannister's annoyance represents that of the other men in the room. It is thinly veiled if not entirely unconcealed. 

Though to his luck, it somehow evades Aemond entirely. The prince decides to speak plainly.

"Lucerys Velaryon is dead." 

The room falls silent, safe from the crackling of firewood in the hearth nearby– the air so still you can hear the beating of your heart in your ears.

"How–" Ser Tyland tries but Aemond interjects.

"He died on dragonback. Vhagar and I happened upon him in the Stormlands." The Targaryen explains and your eyes widen.

You glance at Alicent on instinct, the dowager queen appears ready to faint, or wretch– you could not say. You remain standing beside her just in case.

Once again there is only silence, even from the Hand of the king himself. Otto Hightower's expression betrays nothing, and it confounds you.

There is certainly no hope for peace now, not when Aemond has just openly declared a war by killing the princess’ own son.

"I do not.. understand–" The words tumble out before you even fully realize you were speaking.

Aemond turns to you then, his expression betrays even less than his grandsire.

"His dragon provoked mine, there was not much I could do.” Aemond delivers the statement with such certainty and indifference, it sends a chill down your spine, destabilizing enough that you have to look elsewhere.

“My Prince, forgive me��� As I understand it dragons do not attack others of their kind unless they feel threatened, much less one six times it's own size.” Maester Orwyle verbalizes your own thoughts exactly.

Aemond provoked the boy first.

“It does not matter. The bastard got what was coming to him.” Aemond snaps in return, you observe as Alicent rubs her own forearm, an effort to soothe herself. You notice, whilst the men around her remain oblivious.

The room is flooded with a sudden sense of trepidation and despair.

“The princess will want blood for this.” Orwyle states grimly.

“That she will. and when she comes for it we will be ready.” Otto finally speaks, he steps forward, bracing his hands firmly on the wood-carved table.

“We can no longer expect the princess or her lord husband to bend their knees willingly. They will attempt to take my grandson’s rightful seat by force. We must strengthen our defenses.” He bellows, glancing at every man in the room. 

Eventually Otto looks to you, but pays his own daughter no mind.

“I have the largest dragon.” Aemond remarks proudly, like the green boy that he is. 

Having a dragon does not make you invincible, lad. You would have warned him, if you had been alone. Afterall, he did listen to you.. most times.

You let out a quiet sigh. The young prince knows nothing of warfare, so naturally he is giddy at the prospect. 

His grandsire remains the only one with authority to openly address his statement, and his next words to Aemond are a risk. “Yes, and they are not to forget that.”

“We must first secure the castle, no one unauthorized goes in or out without my leave.”

“Lord Commander, double the amount of guards in the royal quarters. The king and queen's chambers especially.” Otto orders, his gaze now fixed on you.

With what men? You find yourself wondering.

More than half the kingsguard has since fled to join Rhaenyra's cause while your own men grow restless and uncooperative the longer your father took to declare his support for Aegon.

You don't dare utter your grievances out loud, simply nodding at the command.

“Very well, M'lord.”

Otto turns away from you to continue discussing future strategies with the rest of the council members. 

It all comes easily to him, as though he had been planning them for some time. As if this was all a part of a larger scheme. 

You foolishly mistook Otto's excitement for anxiety. This realization feels so macabre, you could laugh.

The men of the council continue to listen whether they want to or not, whilst you remain standing by the dowager queen. Alicent grows more uneasy by the minute as she listens to her father openly laying out strategies and tactics.

It is all happening so quickly.

Alicent fiddles with her seven pointed star necklace again before rubbing her neck anxiously. She goes to gnaw at her finger but stops herself. 

The queen is unraveling right before your eyes, and the sight makes you ache. 

Like a pot of steaming water just about to boil over; your lover's next move is sudden.

Alicent takes large strides towards the exit, the men of the council rise from their seats abruptly to see her off, and you fall in next to her dutifully.

“Mother–” Aemond calls out to her, but Alicent does not look back.

═══════════════════════════════════════════ 

Alicent doesn't allow herself to pause until she reaches her bedchambers, Ser Criston inclines his head at the sight of the queen, stepping aside to let her through.

“Return to your quarters, Cole, I will guard Her Grace.” You command, and Ser Criston nods without much reproach. 

Most likely eager for the opportunity to return to his bedchambers and resume his slumber.

You replace his spot by the door as he went on his way, soon the knight turns a corner and out of sight. The clanging of his armor grew faint, eventually dimming into nothing.

“Y/n.” Your name echoes through the walkway. 

It is Alicent calling for you before the door to her chambers gets the chance to shut fully. Her sweet voice, frail and weary with tears unshed.

You swiftly step inside at the invitation, habitually bolting the door behind you. As you turn, the dowager queen practically throws herself into your arms. It doesn't take you long to return her embrace, your chest constricts as you hear her sob against your shoulder.

“Oh, my love–” You coax, caressing her hair with a much needed tenderness, but you don't get to do it for long as Alicent soon breaks away from you to speak.

“Aemond, he came to me first– woke me to admit what he'd done.” She starts, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, only for more tears to fall.

“But it seemed as though he expected me to celebrate him for it. He looked so proud of himself.” Alicent recounts, her hand now shifts over her belly, as though actively suppressing the urge to be sick.

You watched as she began to pace the floors.

“The indignities of his childhood.. his want for revenge, it has blinded him–”

“It has blackened his heart, twisted him into someone I don't even recognize.” Alicent declares bitterly.

She gnaws at her cuticle again before turning to look at you. Your silence only makes her grow expectant, as though hoping you'll dispute her words. Perhaps even agree with them, but you find yourself incapable of doing either.

Aemond no longer appears the same boy you grew to care for. The boy you have trained and looked out for since he was not much taller than your knee.

A solemn fact, but one that is true.

Even so, you can hardly believe the young prince is capable of cold blooded murder– surely, it must have been an accident, a terrible lapse in judgment.

Dragons have never been so easily tamed, least of all the large and ancient beast Aemond commands.

Vhagar must have acted on her own. 

Yes, in the presence of the council Aemond has to pretend. He pretends so his dignity is spared.

-

Alicent mistakes your silence for agreement, frustration and helplessness quickly overwhelm her.

“What is to become of my sons, y/n? The rotten fruits of my womb.. They are both monsters.” Alicent sobs, placing the blame entirely on herself– a thing she does often and mercilessly.

Another unjust habit.

You feel inclined to disagree. It is not fair that Alicent bears the burden all on her own, it does no good to anyone for her to believe these things. 

You realize that your kindness will most likely not be of much use to her now– but you vow to try anyway. “Most men are, Your Grace.. You mustn't– you cannot blame yourself.”

You allow yourself a deep breath as Alicent meets your gaze; she is listening.

“We are a product of our parents, our mothers, that much is true. Still, we are our own person, we make our choices and we live with them.” You approach Alicent steadily, as though not to startle her.

“Aemond made a choice, my love.” You affirm, cupping her face with both hands, silently relishing at the feeling of her seeking out your embrace once more.

Alicent remains silent for a prolonged moment, she welcomes the feeling of your hand smoothing down her back.

“He should have never gone to Storm's End without an escort. Death and destruction awaits anyone who dares mount those feral beasts.” Alicent maintains her revulsion for dragons, now more than ever, vitriol laces her every word.

“This could have all been avoided.” She decides, forlorn. 

“Now that poor boy is dead– and Rhaenyra, she– I gave her my word, peace in the realm if she accepted my terms, and I have betrayed that.” Alicent hugs you tighter, and you lift her head off your shoulder calmly as to guide her face towards your own.

“Alicent, what has happened cannot be undone. I dread the consequences as much as you do, but no good can come from blaming yourself.” You render, still you decide to continue even as the older woman averts her gaze.

“There was no way to anticipate this. I am certain prince Aemond himself did not plan on meeting Lucerys with his dragon.”

“Sometimes things simply happen. For better or worse.” You finish, in truth, unsatisfied with yourself. 

Words are wind, there is only so much you can say in a situation as dire as this, in the face of impending war.

“It is not your fault. Do you hear me?” You insist, the pad of your thumb caressing Alicent's cheek as you catch a glimpse of her warm brown eyes.

At last, she hears your words and she accepts them. Alicent nods.

“Not my fault.” The dowager queen finally utters in return, uncharacteristically withdrawn and almost docile in your arms.

You continue to handle her carefully, as though she were made of glass. “That's right.” Relieved, you place a lingering kiss upon Alicent's forehead.

A welcomed stillness fills the air as you hold each other, in the quiet of the night, but as with most good things as of late– it is short lived.

A knock on the door startles you both, a familiar voice can be heard from the other side.

“Mother?” Aemond says as he attempts to enter, but the bolt you had placed on the handle prevents the door from budging.

Alicent escapes your touch, she threads her fingers through her auburn locks in visible distress. She makes the effort to step even further away from the door as Aemond knocks again.

“Tell him to leave me, please. I cannot bear to look at him just now.” Alicent pleads in a frantic whisper, and you nod, gesturing with your hand, at an attempt to remind her to calm herself.

As Alicent moves to her bed, you straighten out your doublet, approaching the door. Subsequently, you retract the long wooden panel barring it shut.

Aemond's features are twisted in visible confusion as your eyes meet. You school your own expression in turn, ignoring the way in which your shoulders tense at the sight of him. 

“The dowager queen is abed, my prince. She is not to be disturbed.” You explain with an intended air of indifference and Aemond simply grimaces. He stubbornly tries to peek into the room as you remain blocking his view; to no avail.

“I don't understand, why does my mother not wish to see me?” He asks, his growing frustration evident.

“She is abed, the hour is late.” You repeat, not unkindly, though your hand rests on the pommel of your sword on instinct.

Aemond searches your face, and soon his own expression twists abruptly, bristling when he finds nothing within your gaze that would work in his favor. 

The young prince just as quickly dons a look that fills you with a familiar sense of unease.

He turns on his heels, his cape flourishes as he storms through the dimly lit gallery, eventually disappearing into the shadows.

Aemond Targaryen left for Storm's End a brilliant and obliging boy, and he returned a Kinslayer.

[gassyandnasty]

The Jock Formula 2.1 - Living with JongHo

Sorry for the long wait, guys. Finally, the chapter I promised with the Jock you chose in the poll is here.

_________________________________________

Dohyun's POV

Being a nerd in this campus in a complete hell. We get constantly harassed by Josh and his gang, and everything got even worse when my friend George invented the "Jock Formula".

It was supposed to save us, but Andrew got everything for him and now is joining this hell of a frat. It can be sad for the rest of our friend group, but for me it's worse, as it has always been.

I'm JongHo's twin brother. Yes, that big and burly guy actually has a nerdy relative that he is quite ashamed of. We were supposed to be the same, but I was never inclined to sports, and those gross eating competitions, so while he kept growing, I stayed the same.

My place isn't in this frat at all, but our strict parents didn't want us living apart on college so Jongho only moved to the frat with the condition that I went together. And I've been unhappy since.

They treat me like a maid. I have to wake up earlier to cook breakfast for them, clean ALL of their mess. And it's a hell of a mess. Apart from the dirty and cruel pranks that they pull on me constantly. On top of all that, I have to endure my big and brainless brother everyday, since we share the same room.

They are having a hazing ceremony today, I won't even go downstairs to say anything to that traitor, but I can hear the loudest burps and farts ever, and all kinds of noise those meatheads produce. Happily, those ceremonies take a lot, so I'm having crumbs of peace this night.

I put my headphones on and put some ASMR to muffle the outside noise. I feel I can sleep like an angel without him here, so when I close my eyes, I loose no time in getting asleep.

Unconsciously, the peaceful time is feeling oddly long, when It's interrupted by a loud thud in the door, followed by it's opening:

"Think I missed the handle again haha damn, tonight was fun."

It was Jongho. Peace ended. He can't even come in the room quietly in the middle of the night. I heard him opening the fridge and grab a bottle of something.

"Ugh, so thirsty..." loud gulps followed by heavy steps. "You there?" I can FEEL his massive frame over me, maybe if I keep pretending that I'm asleep, he leaves me alone.

"Wake up, princess." He says, poking my face with his heavy finger, but I won't budge. I hear his stomach rumbling as he states "Gosh, I'm so full... I know what will wake you up."

With that, I fell his heavy weight smothering my head. I know this feeling too well, his huge and sweaty cheeks mold all around my face, while he adjusts himself to get his crack right above my nose. Im cooked.

"Shouldn't have eaten that many hot-dogs... HNNNGG" I feel him straining and forcing out a a fart.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

It slapped like a punch on my face, as it stink intoxicated my senses, while the explosive noise overpowered my ears. It was long, loud and deep, not losing power once, while it rumbled all over my face.

*COUGH* MMPHMMPPBMM *COUGH*

I tried to scream and got muffled by his massive ass. And the taste of his fart invading my mouth after was demonic. He started to rub his butt on my face as I felt him laughing above me.

"Hahaha that can waken the dead, right?" He dumbly stated, almost killing me. I managed to push him over my face, making him land on my chest. Suffocating me all the same.

"What do you want, you JERK?" I ask with the remaining force I have, while he grins and sniffs his own fart.

"Damn, that was a monster, happy that wasn't on my face haha" he thumped on his full belly. "Ate so much this night, only your friend Drew could beat me, you know? He is part of the group now, loser."

"Don't mention that TRAITOR near me. I don't want to hear about Andrew, may he gags on his own gas." I curse him. It boils my blood to know that a guy I called friend is now joining my biggest enemies.

"I don't know about Drew, but you're gagging on this..." Jongho scooted a little to the side, bending his ass towards me, and forced out another fart:

FRFRFRFRFRFRFRFRFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFTFTFRFTFTTTTTTTT

I gagged.

"Hahahaha, I can't wait for the new pranks we are going to pull on you, loser. Now, I gotta sleep" Jongho got up and I finally felt the relief of his weight leaving my chest. But I didn't see him going to the bathroom to change or shower. He is stinking of beer and hot sauce.

"Aren't you missing something? Are you gonna sleep reeking like this?" I ask, trying to save work for me tomorrow, if he changes, I don't have to wash the sheets.

He looks at me with an uncomfortable face, aa he brings his head to his stomach, I hear it rumbling when he answers: "Yeah... I think I'm missing something..." he gives his belly a strong push and bend his face over mine, opening his mouth wide, letting it all rip:

gOOOOoooOOOOOOOOOOOOooooOOODDDDDD-NNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUURRRPPPPPPPPPPP

As he answers me with an ungodly belch, that covers my face with saliva, bits of food and a sickly smell of soda and sausage. He grins as he jumps on his bed and I turn light headed, passing out.

_________________________________________

I wake up feeling sick in the day after. Gosh, I hate them so much. Our room is still stinking, and I'm tired just to think of how much cleaning work I have to do as they messed everything up on that hazing.

I turn to my side and Jongho's bed is empty. Bad sign. He NEVER wakes up early, that can only mean that I'm... late.

I fear for my life.

I get ready fast and go downstairs, maybe I can make up for the time lost, and the first thing I see when I arrive at the kitchen the scene I see is terrifying.

Empty plates all over, with Jongho, Josh, Sal and Andrew sat at the table, looking at me.

"Forgot about breakfast today?" Josh asks, not giving me a good morning even.

"I-I..." I was about to say, when Sal added: "So we had to do it for ourselves..."

Gosh I'm so screwed...

"But no worries, you didn't cook us breakfast, but we will give yours. Sit" Jongho said. I wanted to run but there was no escape. The only place left was between my brother and Andrew, they already wanted to tease me.

As I sat, Andrew said: "Morning, loser." Putting his arm around me, his pits were already stinking.

"I have a name and you know that, Andrew. How could you?" My blood boiled.

"I have a name and it is Drew now. I can address you by how I want though, whimp." The boys laughed at his response and I gritted my teeth.

I was hungry cause I didnt have dinner yesterday. The hazing kept everything busy so I only had some snacks, my stomach rumbled, making them laugh.

"Hahaha, he is hungry guys, why don't we give him his meal already?" Josh commands.

"I will begin with the appetizer" "Drew" says. Gosh I hate to even think calling him that.

"Open your mouth." He says.

"No way! I'm not doing that!" As I thought of getting up, Josh held me, and Drew pinched my cheeks, forcing my mouth open.

"Now we get it haha eat that!" He starts to swallow air and get close, very close. As my open mouth is in line with his, he rips a nasty belch in it, making me taste what he had for breakfast

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPPPP!! *phwooooshhh*

He even blows afterwards, making me teary eyed.

They all high five and laugh, as I see Sal getting in front of me next.

"Now for the entreé, baked beans with a pinch of..." Sal turned around and bent over, displaying his huge bubbly ass on my face. I felt his hand grabbing the back of my head, making me land with my open mouth right in front of his crack. "...my stink... HNNGG"

PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTFTFTFTTFTTTTFTFTFTFTTTTTT

And it stunk to high heavens. All of their gas is potent, but Sal's has twisted smell, making the worse. And I had to swallow.

As I gagged, the guys laughed about him making me eat his fart. I felt some movement, and now Jongho is holding me while Josh got in front of me.

"Let me see if I got your order right, you wanted a double... UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPP" He added with a nauseating belch on my face. As I didn't have time to process this, I saw him turning around and lifting his leg:

"With a side of... FRFRFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTRTRRRRRRRTRTRTTTTT!!"

They couldn't contain themselves with so much laughing at his stupid joke. At least, it's finished... they got "my order".

"What a restaurant will he think this is?" I hear Jongho say behind me. "If we don't give his dessert?" That got the guys expecting something. In a swift move, he let go of the hold on me and pressed his ass on my face, pinning me against the chair.

"A full cake, as you ordered, sir" Jongho said, rubbing his colossal ass on my face. I could hear some flashes now, bet they are recording it.

I heard him grunt, and it happened:

PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBPBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBFFFFTTTT!!

A powerful and huge fart rumbled my face, and went straight down my throat. I could taste the twisted flavour of his breakfast as he filled me with his gas.

"Aaaaahhh, bon appetit!" Jongho sighs in relief, high-fiving his friends. They leave the room as I'm too weak to stand up.

Uuurrpp- I burp as some of their gas come back.

I hate my life.

[marwolaeth-76]

Hi (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡, Can you make a one shot of Veneer with a female reader, where the reader is also a singer (solo) but Veneer tries to get closer to her, in every possible way until at one point the attraction between the two of them is so noticeable that in interviews they begin to ask them about it, and in the end they start a relationship.

Hi!! thank you for your request and thank you for waiting, I hope you like it🩷 and I want to apologize for waiting request other people, I’m sick right now so I don’t have the strength to write😢

Veneer x !FemReader stars fell in love with each other

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You take a deep breath as you walk down the halls of build preparing for your interview. Ever since your debut single dropped, your life has been a whirlwind. Fans, photoshoots, awards shows - it's all so exciting but also overwhelming at times. As you near the stage, you spot a familiar face in the crowd. Veneer gives you a small grin. Your heart skips a beat, you've been growing closer to the star singer over the past few months. Between running into each other at events and bonding over the pressures of fame, you've found yourself developing feelings for him. The interview goes well until the host notices your lingering glances at Veneer. "Soo tell me - are you two there is something between you?" Kid Ritz ask slyly, crossing one leg over the other, raising an eyebrow questioningly. You it’s hard to hide your nervousness, a chill of embarrassment runs down your spine, you should have guessed that such embarrassing questions cannot be avoided, people love drama, especially between stars. Before you can stammer a response, Veneer speaks up. "We just care for each other", -he says with a warm smile in your direction. "But for now, we're just enjoying each other's company and support as we both navigate this new chapter in our lives and careers." - His tone is calm, he must have planned this answer, it’s not just that he’s sitting among the audience? although maybe it's just a coincidence. His words are reassuring yet leave the door open for something more. After the show, you share a private moment backstage. "Before you think I'm a heartless ladies' man", - Veneer began to speak in his usual mannered voice. "I..I meant what I said earlier" - Veneer says softly, taking your hand in his. "You know? I really like you, It was already difficult for me to keep it to myself. Everything is happening so fast, I can’t say that I’m unhappy with it" To say that you are in shock is not enough to say, no, of course you dreamed of this, but to really have Veneer feel the same feelings for you as you do? You stand there like a real fool, staring at the guy with wide eyes for almost a full minute before coming to your senses, catching the slightly embarrassed expression on the singer's face. You beam up at him. "Um!..I like you too? this is so awkward, I'm sorry, Don’t get me wrong, I’ve really kind of... fallen in love with you for a long time.." Leaning in, your lips stretched out in an embarrassed smile, Your heart conquers the normal rate of beats per second, you pull the guy in to kiss him on the cheek. "Ohh only on the cheek?" - Veneer asks with a note of mischief, the slight nervousness left his face, although you could swear that his hand you were holding was shaking slightly, he looking at you with his sparkling blue eyes. Looking away slightly to the side, you shake your head, raising your eyebrows and answer excited: "everything has its time)" While love brings challenges, you're glad to face them with Veneer by your side.

♡♡♡

uhhh i really wrote little, srr, bad health does not allow me to think of something normally 😤

[yooglefics]

The casual type: 01 . The blind date

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader  Wordcount: 2,888 words Genre ( for the whole series ): AU. College!verse. Strangers to friends with benefits to ?????. Eventual smut. Hurt / comfort at times. And fuff for cute friends. Summary: Hobi and his girlfriend set you up with a friend of hers to help with whatever happened months back. However no one really expected things to end the way they did.

Warnings ( for this chapter ): Setting things up for plot purposes. Gridding? Mentions of a boner. Making out.  Author's note: So, I wanted to write some friends with benefits thing, plus a bunch of art kids… and this came out ┐( • ֊ • )┌ . I should note here I took the creative liberty to play around with their ages so everyone is in college at the same time, and if you haven't, you can check the presentation post and learn a little bit more about them. Now let's start, hope you like it! If you do you can reblog, like, comment, send an ask, follow and what not. Thank you for reading <3

The place is quieter than the last time you were here, you realize, is earlier in the day and the semester just started after all, meaning students are still moving in from their home cities. And although you want to be mad at him, you can't really blame Hoseok's choice of place for a date, instead, you're already thinking of ways to be able to escape the awkwardness of it all.

Of course, he and Mai don't have to worry about that. Is not their first date and considering they're both dance students it actually makes sense for them to be in a club on a friday night. Is their element, unlike yours, who hasn't left their room for the last couple of weeks if it's not to go art-supply shopping and will spend even weekends far away from a place like this.

But you couldn't say no. Not to Hobi. Not after he held you tight that night and didn't pray for an explanation.

He had come up with his own conclusions, though, and that's how you ended here. On a double date with Mai and her friend who you don't even know, so... Yay! Blind date added to the mix of reasons why you already want the night to end.

"You made it!" Mai greats when the both of you get closer to the bar, standing up to hug you first and then her boyfriend. "We ordered something while waiting."

Your friend nods at the explanation, "What do you want?" He asks in your direction and you settle for a fruity cocktail to not look too out of place with everyone else drinking. Mai insists on going with Hobi and he insists you stay, so, a bit awkwardly, you take the stool besides your date.

"Yoongi, by the way." The guy simply introduces himself before taking a sip of his drink.

"Y/n" short, overthinking if bowing is too formal until you decide is too long of a pause and it would only make it more awkward. In the end, a soft smile is your decision.

"They look cute together," you say looking at your friends, trying to break the silence that has fallen between.

"Listen," Yoongi begins, and your head turns to him, "I'm only here because she asked, so if you're expecting something like that, let's just leave."

"Like that?" Brows slightly closer, "a cute relationship?"

"A relationship in general. I don't do those."

"Oh..."

And before you can say anything else, Hobi is placing a glass in front of you, smiling reassuringly. "You'd be okay if I go dance now?"

A pause and then a nod is the answer. Not having any intentions of spoiling their night.

"Don't worry. Yoongi," Mai turns to him, a serious expression on her soft features, "you better take care of her, alright?"

He salutes, earning a smile from the couple and they walk to the dance floor hand in hand. You watch them make some silly moves at first and giggle, but it doesn't take long before they start to follow the beat and match it with their movements.

"I don't want a relationship either," you clarify, tone assertive, still looking at the couple with a smile.

He laughs, "I'm sorry, but that's hard to believe."

"Why?"

"Look at me and tell me you didn't just imagine yourself with someone on that dance floor."

You turn to him, brown eyes inspecting yours, "Well, yes. But that doesn't mean I want it to happen with someone I'm in a relationship with."

Again, he laughs. Clearly not believing you.

"What? People do casual things all the time," you defend, straightening your back and looking away.

"You do 'casual things'?" His eyebrows raise, "all the time?"

"Shut up, you don't know me."

"That's a no," no need to look at him to know there's a smirk playing on his lips.

"Who are you? Some kind of hook up police or something?" You want to take it back as soon as it leaves your mouth, cringing.

"Are you gonna show me your license?" but he is faster.

"Okay, that was more lame than what I said," you laugh. Maybe he is not as grumpy as he seems. And maybe, just maybe, you would be able to enjoy the night after all. 

If he doesn't want a relationship either, then you don't have to deal with rejecting him or being forced to accept a second date just because you're too kind to say no. That's good.

"Yoongi, hey!" A guy calls out and for a split second your date's expression changes to a surprise one before a polite smile takes place on his face. "Oh, hi. Sorry for interrupting, haven't seen him in months."

"Is alright," you play along even when not understanding.

"I guess he has been busy with yo—"

"Jay," Yoongi's tone is serious, like the one he used to say he doesn't do relationships. However, before he can continue or you are able to clarify that you two just meet, Jay is calling someone over.

"Look who I found, love. Yoongi!"

A redhead girl repeats Yoongi's early expression and you wonder two things about Jay. One: if he always has that effect on people. And two: if he is even more clueless than you in this whole situation, since his smile never falls.

"Hi," the redhead says and Yoongi greets back just as plain.

Are you really imagining the awkwardness? Perhaps you were wrong and in the end you should put one of your plans to avoid it into place?

A few seconds of thinking go by, no one says anything and you could swear the tension is filling the air around your new  group.

"Oh, that's the song!" Fake excitement in your voice tricks everyone into looking at you. "I promise, remember? If it comes on, we'll dance."

Yoongi looks confused for a second, but it doesn't take him long to finally understand, "right, the song. Sorry guys, been waiting all night."

Jay dismisses him smiling with a pat on the back, saying something about not breaking promises and Yoongi takes your hand.

Looking around, you try to find your friends, hoping to copy Mai's moves and keep up with the plan even when you're a self proclaimed not dancer. But they aren't in sight and even if you can't really prove it since your back is facing them, you feel like Jay's and the girl's eyes are on you.

Ugh. Why did you use this plan?

Why was this something you even thought about?

When Yoongi stops and positions himself in front of you, you get closer, sliding an arm on top of his shoulders pretending you're positioning yourself to dance, copying the random couple beside you.

"I don't know what I'm doing," you confess in a whisper.

"What do you mean?” He looks for your eyes, hair strain coming out of place when his head lowers a little, "you want to go back and sit down?"

"No, then they would know I lied," you're still trying to figure out why in the first place and don't need the embarrassment too, "but I don't know how to dance."

He chuckles, "here, I'll help." And holds your hips softly, moving them to the beat of the song, matching your movements with his own. "Relax. Don't think too much about it."

"If I don't, how do I know how to move?" It doesn't make sense and is a bit frustrating, honestly.

"Is not a dance competition, or the grant ball, princess. Just do what feels right."

He catches you looking at your feet and brings you closer, eliminating the gap between your bodies completely. "Don't do that," one of his hands travels to the small of your back, keeping you in place.

"Sorry," you say against his neck. Not intentionally, but because of your height difference, there's no other option. In an effort to not be so dependent on him, both your arms move around his neck and you try to move your hips in a way that in the end doesn't match his movements completely, causing you to bum into his front. He makes a sound that you assume is a complaint at your skills and another apology rolls through your lips.

"Turn around," Yoongi commands, applying pressure to one side of your hip.

You comply, confused even when you feel his hands on your waist. "Well, I'm going to assume you been fucked before, miss casual all the time," with his chest against your back, you can feel his laugh. "Open your legs a little," one of his feets kicks gently between yours, fixing your stand. "You want to lead or should I?"

"...You." Is the safest, you decide. Your turn to assume he surpasses your experience at that too.

“Some describe dancing like a good fuck," he explains, hands softly making their way a bit lower to your hips, "because you have to learn your partner. Find a rhythm together." His movements start slow, moving your body with his from side to side, with small circles of the hips.

Your hands fall on top of his, not knowing what else to do with them. They're soft, which for some reason is unexpected.

"I have dancer friends and they never described it like that..."

"Not to you, probably," he laughs and when you stop the movements to throw an angry look his way — because you're pretty sure that's some kind of insult,— he chuckles, before continuing the swaying of your hips. "Calm down, princess. I meant, they probably just weren't teaching you this kind of dance."

And that makes sense. You can't imagine dancing with your friends like this. You can barely believe you're doing it with a stranger.

Your shyness must have shown, because his next question is why did you even choose this song.

"I was trying to help and get you away from whatever that was," you lift your head, eyes away from your feet and the color lights projecting on the floor, and sure enough, behind red bangs, the girl is looking in your direction.

Your hips halt.

Yoongi catches up a bit too late, bumping his pelvis into you.

"What ar—"

"She is looking." Cutting him off, you want to hide as if you were the one caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. So, you try to turn around on his arms but his hold is firm.

A new song starts, the rhythm not much different.

"Help me with another song?"

You try again, this time using your hands on top of his to soften the grip. He gives in. And after a look at his face, you nod.

You can decide if it's sadness or anger that you see, not knowing him well enough to tell — or at all, to be honest — but either way, there's a part of you that can relate. One for each emotion.

Throwing your hair back, letting all black strands fall over your back, your arms go back over his shoulders, this time your chest flush against him a little more than last.

Yoongi says thanks and you kiss his cheek as his hands hold you again. His movements are more determined and even his fingers form dents over the fabric of your dress.

Assuming his demeanor changed only for the specific viewer doesn't sound too crazy, and you want to confirm the theory by looking at his face, see if he is looking behind you at her. Your eyes travel against the direction the few sweat drops over his skin go, and when they reach Yoongi's, he is looking back at you.

Your body stops.

"Fuck" he whispers when the front of his pelvis bumps yours. "You really need to stop doing that."

"Sorry. Told you I can't dance."

He chuckles.

Your bottom lip forms a small pout. "Don't be mean. I'm trying to help you, remember?" And you initiate the movements again, starting to get the hang of it. Kind of.

"You're not much help right now if you keep making me dry hump into you," this time he is the one stopping, making it so you bump into his front and you can feel the outline of his growing erection.

"Yoo—"

"Exactly," he says so matter of fact, "you're the mean one."

Lowering your head, you try to not think too much about it. It doesn't make you want to run away or kick him, but you also don't want to make him feel like kicking you away. You keep repeating to yourself that is normal with this type of dance, that there's probably more than one hard on at the club right now and how you're probably not the only one who is getting we—

Damn it. Just stop thinking about it.

Yoongi stops your body from moving, and when you realize he has been calling your name, you're even more embarrassed by your thoughts.

"I'm sorry. That was too much, I shouldn't have. We can go sit now." His eyes are looking straight at you, letting you know he's being sincere.

"I need some air."

Without even bothering to wait for a confirmation that he is following or not, you make your way to the side door of the club. The autumn breeze hits your skin as soon as you step into the alley, instantly calming your hormones down.

Hands cover your face in shame after reclining on the wall. Can you stop acting like it was the first time you felt a penies? Because even if it hasn't happened in a while, it doesn't mean the score goes back to zero.

"Should I bring Hoseok?" Yoongi asks a few steps in front of you and you jump a little, shaking your head after.

"I'm good. You can go back in."

"I'm not leaving you alone here. Do you want him or Mai to kill me?"

A small chuckle leaves your throat and one from him follows it.

"And you think he wouldn't kill you for—" stop. You can't think about it.

"For dancing like that with you? Probably. But he also set this date up, so..." Out of the corner of your eye you can see him shrug, "can't complain unless you hate me now."

"I don't hate you."

"Is okay if you do."

"It… it just surprised me."

"In a bad or good way?"

"A good one." You answer directly in a strain of honesty.

"So you're not really the casual type, uh?" He teases after a couple seconds of silence.

"Maybe I just don't like doing casual in the middle of the club," you defend.

"I don't know, you were the one that kept humping into me."

Your mouth opens and closes, finally looking at him and his stupid lips pull up in a smirk. You want to erase it so bad.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

And you do.

Skipping forward, right hand flying to the back of his neck to pull him in and you're able to touch his lips with yours.

He is quick to react. Kissing you back, his hands on either side of your waist pulling your body into his. But you're trying to prove a point, to defend yourself. So, you pull away slightly, making sure your lips are just about to touch.

He pulls in.

Allowing just a peck, you move.

You kind of regret not using your cherry lip gloss, because you know for sure that knowing you're so close for him to smell it but not taste it, would be the biggest tease.

You let him lean in again, not moving this time and he sighs. You smile against his lips just before his tongue asks for permission to enter your mouth. Again, you regret your simple choice of a simple red lip tint, but remind yourself that this date wasn't supposed to go like this. That Yoongi doesn't seem like the guy he was supposed to be, not what he was advertised by your friends.

Fighting back control, your left arm joins the other around his neck, moving your lips expertly and feeling his chest rise and fall quickly against yours. Is pretty much the position you were in on the dance floor minus the grinding.

Casual in the middle of the club is not your thing. Casual in general is actually not something you have experience with. But kissing? You've mastered it thanks to your past relationships and the avoidance of jumping into someone's bed right from the start.

A moan vibrates through your lips against Yoongi's, and even if it's part of the routine, you must admit is pretty real. A soft groan is his answer and the cue for your heels to touch the floor again. His hold tightens in reaction, making your dress rise up and covering a couple inches less of your thighs. Suddenly you're aware of the wind again as a breeze runs up your legs, towards the center of your panties.

Your breath caughts on your throat and Yoongi swallows any sounds before pulling away.

"Fuck," he breaths heavily, "we've to stop."

"Why? Are you not really the casual type?" You tease, stealing his line.

The left corner of his mouth lifts, before falling again in a millisecond. "Not with you."

Should I’ve added “cliffhanger” to the warnings? haha i swear is gonna be okayyyy ♡ Tag list: @n33mesis , @mggv97 , @wobblewobble822 , @bbou-doir , @m00njinnie , @nariee02 , @sexytholland . hope you guys like this one <3

➪ The squad. | ➪ 02 | ➪ Updates for this verse ➪ Ko-fi | ➪ ♡ Tag list info ➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats

[avatarloverfrfr]

DREAMWALKER SIBLINGS

Chapter III: Memories -> previous[II] Masterlist Summary: Y/n and Jake Sully. Siblings, shipped off into the depths of space to explore the mysterious world of Pandora. Warnings: N/A Word count: 1020

Jake wheeled himself out of the small shack we called home, not bothering to turn back around. "I'm going out." he announced, his voice flat, tired.

"Jake—" Tommy called out, but his words were cut off by the sound of the door slamming closed.

"He's off to the pub, again." I said staring at the holographic images of tigers on the wall. My eyes following their every move, a constant reminder of the wild freedom we could never taste. This was no way to live, trapped in our own home, scraping by on the bearest of means.

"We can't live like this anymore Tommy. This house is the same fucking size as a jail cell." I say turning to him, hoping he would see my desperation, the need for change.

Tommy sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Once I get into the avatar—"

"We'll be dead by the time you come back from your alien excursion, Tommy! We can't wait for you..." I snapped, anger and frustration boiling over. I paced up and down the thin strip of walkway of our cramped home, my thoughts racing.

"I can't do with you today." Tommy said, grabbing his coat, clearly preparing to leave.

"Do what Tommy? Talk about our planet and not some planet light years away?" Could he not see the urgency of our situation? Choosing to be shipped off to another planet like shit is sweet.

He turned to me, eyes hard. "Me going on this "alien excursion" is what is going to make you and Jake rich."

"How would we even know if you're alive Tommy? For all I know you could die as soon as you step out these doors," I shouted, my voice echoing in the small space.

"I guess we won't know Y/n, but at least I'm trying to do something instead of sitting on my ass sulking. Grow up Y/n." he retorted before slamming the door behind him.

I sank into the worn out couch, the weight of his words pressing down on me. Maybe he was right. All I ever did was sulk and think about a past that I barely remembered. After a while, I decided to take a walk around the city, maybe even have a drink or two.

The city is a maze of metal and neon, a contrast to the tiny shack we called home. People bustling about, faces all covered in masks of different sorts, the most popular being animals long extinct, tigers crossing the streets, panda bears walking the side walks, all animals we never stood a chance seeing thanks to those before us. Everyone was trying to escape something, it seemed.

I wandered aimlessly, my thoughts a chaotic mix of anger and sorrow. Eventually I found myself at the end of a alley outside of a dimly lit club. The sign above the exit door flickering intermittently, a barely readable 'exit' shown.

The sound of commotion in the alleyway catches my attention. I look down and see a group of people throwing someone out a building. My heart skips a beat as I squint to see better and recognize the figure—the man they're throwing out, is Jake. Panic surges through me as I realize they've thrown his wheelchair out of his reach, leaving him on the wet floor.

"Candy-ass bitch!" Jake yells, his voice thick with anger and frustration. Without hesitation, I dash into the alley, my pulse pounding in my ears.

As I reach him, Jake makes eye contact with me from the ground, his eyes filled with defiance and resignation. "Punk-ass bitches needed two people to handle one cripple," he says with a bitter laugh.

"Jake you could be seriously injured." I say, kneeling down in the rain beside him. I wrap my coat around the top half of hid body, trying to shield him from the cold downpour.

"They just lost themselves a customer," he mumbles, clearly drunk and rambling.

"Hey Y/n," he continues, his voice softer now, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. Sorry for being such a pain in the ass to you and Tommy. I know you're just trying to help me out."

I feel a lump form in my throat as I listen to his apology. "Jake, you don't need to apologize. We're Sully's, and Sully's stick together." I say sitting down next to him, squeezing his shoulder gently.

We sit there in the rain, the world around us fading into the background. The rain continues to pour, soaking us to the bone, but we don't care. This moment of connection and understanding is worth every drop.

"Remember when we used to switch classes with Tommy during maths class cause he's the only one who understood anything." Jake chuckles, looking at me

"No, I don't, we might be triplets but only you and Tommy could pull that off," I say rolling my eyes " I had to sit there and take the tests like a champ." I say feeling a tang of nostalgia hit.

"I miss those days. Everything seemed simpler." Jake sighs, the weight of his earlier anger and frustration melting away with the breath.

"We were kids," I say softly. "The world was smaller, and our biggest worry was picking out which animal mask we would wear for the day."

Jake nods, his expression suggesting he isn't truly focused on the present. "Sully's stick together..." he lowly mutters to himself.

As we sit in the rain, the world around us quiets. The shared silence is comforting, a reminder that we're not alone in our grief.

The sound of footsteps echoes down the alley. I turn to find two men dressed in black suits staring down at us. "Y/n and Jake Sully? It's about your brother," one of them says, his voice cutting through the rain.

Jake tenses behind me, and I feel a knot of dread in my stomach. "What about him?" I ask, my voice steady despite a feeling of dread gnawing at me.

The man in the suit steps forward, his expression unreadable. "Come with us."

[previous part] [next part 4]

Tag list: @pinkvrydag @neytirismissingtoe @youskawng @tsuteyssyulang @lylalaminated @nonamevenus @ikeyniofthetayrangi @fatimatabintou @pink-sunrise-56

Note: I'm so sorry for the long wait. And for the short chapter mb:(

[wordsarelife]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱: 𝐢'𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: theo tries to make everything right, but it might seem to be too late. all while your brother makes an unexpected appearance and interfers with your love life

warnings: mentions of a loved one dying, car accident, trauma, underage drinking, angst

notes: feels like an eternity since i posted the last chapter lmao

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

one year ago

cormac had left the party an hour ago. he had just left you there, standing in the middle of the dance floor, as he bid off the passenger seat of his cabrio to a girl whose name you couldn't even remember now. all you knew was that she was sitting on the passenger seat that had been supposed to be yours.

you were drunk out your friend and had zero idea in which direction your house was. you took a look out of the window. it was raining and it would be a stupid idea to just blindly walk in one direction in the dark.

you thought about a way to get home, when a voice behind you made you perk up.

it was theo. he was taking to two guys you had never seen before. you smiled as your heart beat calmed down.

you knew theo, theo would help you.

"theo" you slurred and hiccuped.

theo did not look as happy to see you, as you were to see him.

"cormac" you hiccuped again "left me and i wanted to ask if you could drive me home?"

"i told you, he was bad news" theo rolled his eyes as the two other guys walked away.

"i know" you hiccuped "and you were right"

he nodded. his eyes already fixated on something or someone behind you.

"could you please drive me?" you asked "it won't take long, i promise"

"it would take half an hour" theo argued "we're not in town anymore. do you even know where you are?"

you shook your head and he sighed. you thought he would maybe say yes and rip you a new one on the drive home, but theo shook his head and your heart sank.

"call a taxi or something"

"please, theo" you pleaded "please, help me"

theo laughed sarcastically. "just yesterday you told me we couldn't be friends anymore, because i don't approve of your asshole of a boyfriend. so tell me, why should i do anything to help you?"

tears were running over your cheeks at this point and you could only watch as theo threw off your grip on his arm and walked away from you.

you got your jacket from the hanger at the door, before you walked out into the cold. the rain was dripping into your face, but you didn't mind. you started walking in any direction, as you took out your phone and dialed your older brother.

"leo?" you hiccuped as soon as your call was answered.

"y/n?" leo's voice was hoarse, he had probably been asleep.

"i'm sorry for calling you so late" you cried into the phone.

"is everything alright?" he was sounding a lot more awake now. "what happened?"

"cormac left me at this party and i don't know how to get home"

"i'll come and get you" he was moving around, probably getting dressed "can you find out where you are? can you send me your location?"

"yeah" you said and quickly did as he has asked. "i'll wait on the street"

"okay" he checked the location you had send "that's pretty far from mum's house, but it's not as far to dad's place, i will probably be there in ten minutes"

"okay" you said "thank you, leo"

"of course" he said, before the two of you ended the call.

you waited ten minutes, twenty, thirty, before your drunken mind decided that walk in the direction leo would probably come from. maybe he had gotten lost in the dark.

you weren't sure if it was intentional, but at some point you had just started to follow the sound of sirens that were coming from the street a few hundred meters away. the lights were making it hard to miss.

he was already dead when you arrived. the police was busy pushing back the people, but you had recognized your dad's car. and you could see his hand slipping out from under the black cloth. he was still wearing his bracelet and you were wearing the same.

your tears mixed with the rain that was still dripping from the sky. you screamed and two police officers came to check on you.

"are you alright, miss?" the man couldn't have been older than twenty-six.

"that's my brother" you cried.

he turned around to look in the direction of your eyes.

"that's my brother" you repeated. "please" you begged.

the officer helped you to stand up, before he took you by the arm and brought you into the middle of the street, where an older police officer was waiting. the younger one brought you a blanket when he noticed how much you were shivering.

"what's your name?" the older asked

"y/n" you stuttered, your eyes still fixated on leo.

"she's not older than sixteen" you could hear one of the medical assistants whisper.

"how old was he?" the other asked.

"eighteen? or nineteen?"

no you wanted to scream he's only seventeen

“where do you live?” the police officer asked.

“can’t i see him, please?” you cried. the police officer exchanged a look with one of the medical assistants, before he nodded.

you followed them to your brother, who was still laying on the street unmoving, but they wouldn’t raise the cloth. you just touched his hand and the bracelet on his arm. his hand was cold and your heart shattered even more.

“come on” the police officer said. “i’ll drive you home” you didn’t react when he softly took your arm and walked you to sit in his car. you just told him the address of your dad when he asked and watched the street as it moved past you.

he followed you to the door and you could see the smile on your dads face die down when his eyes fell on you. “where’s leo?”

“i’m sorry, sir-“ the police officer began and you blended him out. your eyes were focused on the jacket in the entryway. did leo leave it? did he drive without a jacket to get you? he must’ve been cold.

your fathers sobbing was what brought back. the police officer excused himself, before he pushed you inside the house.

“he wanted to pick me up” you said as you stared up at your father.

and then the screaming began. it only stopped when it was half past three in the night. your father send you a last look, before he told you to grab your things.

he didn’t want you to stay the night.

he stopped the car in front of your mothers house and told you to get outside.

“dad, please” you had begged, but he hadn’t even looked at you.

“i don’t want to talk to you” he had said before he drove off and left you standing in the middle of the street.

you opened the door with your key and as you walked inside, someone turned on the light.

“y/n!” your mother screamed “where have you been? you’re soaked!”

you had sat on your bed and started at the wall for what felt like days. april came to look after you, but both of you didn’t speak. the boys came, but you told april that you didn’t want to see them, so they left.

the only person you wanted to see was theo, but he didn’t come.

the funeral was beautiful, from what you could notice through tear filled eyes and april stayed close to you the entire time, clutching your hand like her life depended on it. hers didn’t, but yours maybe did.

the boys had come, all but theo and after the funeral you all had went to the lake, because it had been leo’s favorite place in the world. it had been his idea to throw together some money and buy the garage. it had been pretty run down when you found it and all of you spent half a year renovating, but in the end it was worth it.

it was the perfect place for all of you and the perfect place to practice songs for the band theo and leo had started.

before enzo, leo had played the guitar. now the band was missing a member and none of them new if it was even fair to go on.

after a few months, enzo, mattheos little brother started playing for them. they continued rehearsing in the garage, april went from time to time to watch them play, while your visits became less and less.

you didn’t want to see theo and from what you heard he didn’t want to see you either, because he stayed away whenever you were near.

weeks turned into months and what seemed like a separation for now turned into normality.

you had almost been glad when theo started talking to you again, even when it was in a malicious way. but that was safe territory, you were having a relationship that allowed both of you to not talk about everything that had happened. you could just ignore it that way.

now

theo spent his days running around his room, thinking about ways to make it up to you, to excuse his actions.

there were lines flowing through his head. a song was forming and he couldn't stop the need to sit down and write everything down, everything that you deserved to hear.

he didn't have the intention of airing out anything. he just wanted to show you what you were worth to him and how sorry he was that he had been the reason you had felt so alone. he had robbed you of your friends, he had robbed you of him, when you had needed him most.

later that day he drove up to the garage to use enzo's guitar. he wanted to feel the words, to make sure they were the right ones.

he played the first few notes, slowly and gently. before he began to sing, crossing words and adding new ones that fitted what he wanted to say better.

when he was finished he called enzo, begging him to send you a message, because you would ignore any message he would send anyway.

can you please come to the garage? please, i really need your help, it's about april

the message enzo had send made you worry. april didn't answer when you tried to call her, so you got the leo's old bike from the shed and rode there as fast as possible.

when you arrived, you walked inside quickly, searching the place with your eyes for kind of sign from enzo or april.

"hey" your eyes fell on the couch where theo was sitting.

you turned around, ready to walk back outside, but he quickly stumbled to his feet, holding your arm before you had the chance to flee.

"did you get enzo to send that message?" you asked "i thought something had happened to him or april. i was worried sick" you slapped a hand against his chest, trying to push him away.

"i know, i'm sorry"

"sorry-"

"doesn't cut it this time, i know" he interrupted "just please, sit down and listen to this"

"another song?" you huffed.

"please, y/n"

you sighed, before you sat down on the couch, you watched him walk around the keyboard, before he took the acoustic guitar and sat down across from you.

"it's called matilda" he muttered "and it's everything i want you to know"

you listened attentively as he played the chords, his voice only a whisper.

you were riding your bike to the sound of "it's no big deal" and you're trying to lift off the ground on those old two wheels nothing about the way that you were treated ever seemed especially alarming 'til now so you tie up your hair and you smile like it's no big deal

your heart beat faster when he looked up and found your eyes.

you can let it go you can throw a party full of everyone you know and not invite your family, 'cause they never showed you love you don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up, mmh

your eyes filled with tears as the soft shiver in his voice and you realized that he was crying too.

matilda, you talk of the pain like it's all alright but i know that you feel like a piece of you's dead inside you showed me a power that is strong enough to bring sun to the darkest days it's none of my business, but it's just been on my mind

this song felt realer than any he had written before. it felt like everything theo wanted daddy issues to be, before it had been used in a way to hurt you.

you're just in time, make your tea and your toast you framed all your posters and dyed your clothes, ooh you don't have to go you don't have to go home oh, there's a long way to go

you can let it go you can throw a party full of everyone you know you can start a family who will always show you love you don't have to be sorry, no

you knew he was referring to the boys and april. it had taken you way too long to realize that they had been your family all this time, even during the hardest year or your life, they had tried to be close and show their love, you had just been too stubborn to accept it.

but love wasn't something that could end. not this kind of love. you had always loved them and you had always loved theo, but right now your heart was too heavy to forgive him, even if you so desperately wanted to.

"thank you" you said and theo looked up with hope in his eyes. "but did you think a song would be enough to fix everything that is broken between us?"

his heart sank and he shook his head.

"i tried to ignore it these past weeks, tried to be your friend" you muttered "because it was easy, it was familiar. but it's like everything that you did this past year comes back anytime i look at you and it makes me wonder how you can say you love me when that was the way you acted"

"i hated myself for what i did" theo admitted "it was my fault that leo needed to come and get you in the first place. i could've brought you home, but i didn't want to, because i was so damn jealous and stubborn"

"why didn't you come to the funeral?"

"because i was ashamed of what i had done that night" he looked down and for a moment you were sure he was gonna grab your hand. he didn't. "but i'm gonna make it up to you, if you just let me"

"it's too late" you shook your head "i appreciate your effort, but it's just too late, theo. i'm sorry"

"just give us one more try" he begged "i know that we belong together"

"theo" you said as you softly touched his cheek, he leaned in, capturing as much of your warmth as possible. "it goes great for a while and then we start fighting. that's just our nature. and we're so fucking immature when it comes to the other"  

"we can make it work"

you shook your head "no we can't" you looked to the ground "you were right when you said that we weren't good for each other. it's because we're not good to each other, at least never for long"

you left the garage and took all in you to not turn around when you heard him sob. there was a part of you that so desperately needed to be close to him, but an even bigger part was just hurt at his actions. that part had been in constant pain since leo had died and you truly did not know how to get rid of that pain.

theo tried calling you about a thousand times, you didn't answer and after some time just blocked his number. he stared at your window all day, but you kept the curtains closed.

you didn’t even mind him telling dave that you would be playing pixie dream girl on saturday, it was just that he had lied to you. and on top of everything else that hurt the most.

enzo had called you too, apologizing for the way he had led you on. he also told you that he had been at the doctors and gotten his cast removed. his hand was well enough for him to play saturday, so there was no need for you to show up.

you had been happy to hear that. after all that had happened you weren't sure if you had had the strength to stand on that stage with him.

it was friday, one day before the concert, when you sat down on the floor of your room and your hands went under the bed, pulling out leo’s box. you were looking for one of his photos, your favorite one of him and you, but you couldn’t find it.

“where is it?” you muttered, as you got back on your feet and looked around the room.

maybe it was downstairs. maybe it was in his room. maybe your mother had took it.

you walked down the steps slowly and carefully, as to not wake her.

leo’s room looked like it always did. it was organized, everything was were it was supposed to be. it had looked like that ever since he had moved in with your dad and only spent the weekends in here.

you walked around the bed and to the shelves where a few photos were displayed. you and him, him and the rest of the band. photos from your childhood, from summer at the lake, from band practices and late nights spend renovating the garage.

you opened the drawer that was filled with his clothes. parts of him that were still here, while he was so far gone.

you didn't find it and your eyes just slipped past your mother when you left the room. before you could continue your search in the livingroom, the doorbell rang.

"go away, theo" you said loud enough for him to hear through the door.

"it's me" a voice said "matt"

you opened the door and it was indeed mattheo who was leaning against the wall.

"if theo send you, you can tell him-"

"he didn't" mattheo interrupted, before his hand went to the back pocket of his trousers and he held a small box in your direction.

it had been wrapped and looked like a birthday gift.

"what is that?" you asked suspiciously.

"it's from leo" mattheo explained "he made me keep it, because you always searched his things for presents, remember?"

you did. you had always done that. it had been a way for yourself to try and react the best way to the gifts you were getting.

"it's from a year ago" mattheo continued "he made me keep it from you. i would've given it to you sooner, but i honestly forgot about it. i just found it because i had to clean out my drawer"

"which drawer?"

"i'd rather not say"

you nodded.

your birthday had been just a few days after the accident. april had baked you a cake and you had spent the day with her, laying in your bed, eating cake and watching movies. it was probably the saddest birthday you had ever had, mostly because you felt leo's absence extra hard.

he had loved birthdays. and he had loved giving gifts.

"thank you" you said finally, as you took the box from his hand. "do you know what's inside?"

mattheo nodded. "i don't want to tell you what to do"

"then don't" you smiled, ready to close the door, but mattheo wouldn't let you go so easily.

"yeah, but i will" he grinned "what happened was pretty messed up, okay? everything with your mum and dad.. theo acted like a fucking idiot and i'm not saying you should just forgive him, but just- both of you should stop punishing yourselves for something that wasn't your fault"

"matty-"

"just because leo died doesn't mean you owe him something" he continued "none of you is at fault for that. it was that fucking drunk driver okay? you and theo aren't cursed or anything and leo wouldn't be angry if you just stopped beating yourself up for something you had no control over"

"i appreciate-"

"just watch what's on this" he tapped the box "then we can continue this argument"

you finally nodded and watched as he walked back out to the street, he waved at you before you closed the door.

despite the uneasiness, you slowly opened the box. in there was just a dvd. you raised your eyebrows. leo had been a bit old school with these things.

you walked into the living room, turning on the dvd player and putting the dvd in, before you started the video.

"hey, y/n" leo was sitting right where you were now. "happy birthday! hopefully you like my present, at least you definitely need it. it's fine if you really like cormac, but don't forget us and uh, don't forget theo, hm?"

what followed was a black screen and then laughter, your laughter. a video started playing. your were chasing theo around the lake, while you could hear leo cheer you on behind the camera.

before you could start to wonder, music started playing and not just any music. about you, theo's unreleased song. so leo had known about it, about the song and probably also about the way theo had felt.

you began crying as other videos followed. leo and you trying to hit the last two bowling pins and failing. mattheo, enzo and you as you tried to make a human pyramid. laughter was heard all throughout as draco, blaise, april and you ran a race that you and april lost by far.

there was a video april had taken of you during practice, as you had sat on the ground before the band. your eyes had been fixated on theo the entire time. you didn't even know this video existed.

"who's taller?" theo asked into the camera. "what do you think?" the camera swung to leo, who smirked.

"you or her?" he pointed between you and theo. "is that a serious question?" your brother laughed and the camera swung back to you, making a face and crossing your arms.

"you're just saying that, because you like him more than me" you muttered with fake offense.

"never" leo laughed, before he pressed a kiss to your cheek, which you immediately rubbed off.

the last video was one of you all sitting at the fire. theo was playing the guitar and you were sitting next to him, watching his every move.

leo turned the camera around. "they're in love" her whispered with his mouth close to the lens, before he turned the camera back at theo and you and zoomed in on you, as you sang along to the song theo was playing. "theo doesn't want to admit it to me" leo continued "but she is his pixie dream girl" you could hear him laugh about the joke to himself as the video ended.

that's where theo had gotten the song title from. someone must've showed him the video at the campfire, maybe that was what tempted him to write about you.

"he was happy in his last months, wasn't he?" you almost shrieked as you suddenly heard your mother speak. you turned your head. she was standing behind the couch and she looked unusually awake. her face was as tear stained as your cheeks and you nodded.

"he was" your eyes fell on the on the photo she was holding pressed to her chest. she followed your eyes and sighed.

"i'm sorry" she exclaimed "i found it in your room and took it. it wanted to have my children near me and i always loved this picture of the two of you. i was about to give it back"

"it's alright, mum" she was so clear all of a sudden.

"come here, baby" she sat down beside you and opened her arms, so you could crawl under the blanket next to her. "i missed you"

"you did?" you asked surprised.

"i know it's my own fault" she said "i shut you out. you didn't deserve the way i treated you, i'm so sorry"

"mum" you muttered. "it's alright"

"no it's not" she pressed a kiss to your head "i will get healthy, okay? i promise. i lost my son that night, but my daughter is still here and i have to become a better mother"

"it was my fault" you whispered "that's why you got so sick"

"oh, baby" she shook her head "it was never your fault, i should've gotten help for myself immediately, but i just wanted to be alone. i never wanted you to feel like anything that happened that night was your fault and i was wrong to worry you, to let you feel like you had to get through this alone"

"i wasn't alone" you assured her "i had april"

"and theo right?" your mother pointed to the paused picture of you and theo at the campfire.

"theo and i don't really talk anymore"

"why not?" your mum asked surprised "you were always so close"

"we started falling out before leo's death and after that we didn't really talk to each other anymore" you explained "we became friends again, but he did some pretty hurtful things"

she looked at you expectingly, waiting for you to continue.

"he wrote a few songs about me and he messaged dad"

"oh" your mother breathed, before she cleared her throat "do you think you'll ever be able to forgive me?"

"there's nothing to forgive, i was never really angry" you admitted "i just felt so alone"

"i know, sweetheart" she nodded "i promise i will make it up to you" she nudged your arm "but if you're able to forgive me after all the horrible things i did to you these past months, don't you think you will be able to forgive him too?"

your eyes fell on the tv. you thought about the way theo's and your eyes connected and you thought about what leo had said.

they're in love.

"yeah" you nodded "maybe i will"

authors note: what do you guys think? should pixie forgive theo? :)

taglist: @7s3ven @madi-potter @shereadsandcries @getosbeloved @mischieftom @wolfstar-jpg @t00thfairy20 @chcrrysblog @aestramjackson @elina3011 @kr1nqu @hopeless-y @mitskiswift99 @fallingblackveils @ahead-fullofdreams @helendeath @schaebickel @chubbychasermattheotruther @punkprincess03 @subparslytherin @girlbooklover555 @sakanelli-afc @cobrakaisb @ellen3101 @simp-for-fantasy

[juustokaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 4. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as body dysmorphia, paranoid thoughts and more. Possessive and obsessive behavior, stalking. Dark themes are to be expected. A mention of a dead animal in this chapter.

A/N: I don't know why every chapter I write is longer than the previous one, I'm sorry. Hongjoong and Mingi biased people, be patient; their time to shine is yet to come! As always, I love feedback, so if you feel like you want to share your thoughts on this, you're very welcome to do so <3 A big thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed this story!

Word count: 4 658

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Your palms were sweating. If the man broke in, your hands wouldn’t be able to hold a weapon. 

Your legs were trembling. There was no way for you to be able to run when they barely held you standing. 

Your heart was beating fast. Feeling dizzy, you didn’t know if you’d be able to even stay conscious. 

It was a paralyzing feeling to be trapped inside your own home. The man kept knocking on your door like he was a zombie trying to get inside your base to eat you. That’s how desperate he was to get his teeth on you, to take a piece of you or swallow you whole. 

“Open the door, love. Do you want me to force my way in?” 

You wouldn’t let him in no matter what happened. There was no guarantee that he could get in, but it was sure as hell that letting him in would be the biggest – and probably last – mistake of your life. 

The best choice now was to pretend you weren’t home at all. It was unlikely the man would be stupid enough to believe your act, but he’d get bored eventually. Or he’d break in and do whatever he wanted to you, if he really was serious about getting in one way or another. 

His attempts to open the door were futile, but that didn’t discourage him. 

You stood there, eyes locked on the door, fully prepared to see it fling open and reveal the man behind it. Who would it be? Who would take your life and everything that was dear to you? 

“Make your choice already.” 

It felt impossible to move your limbs. They stayed in the same spot almost like they had never been yours in the first place. You should have already obtained a weapon, but you just stood stock-still. 

“Choose me. Choose you and me. Choose us.” 

There were no more knocks after those cryptic words. Only the sounds of your heavy breathing and soft hum of air conditioner could be heard in your apartment. 

Then an envelope dropped in from the mail slot, the sound startling you. Your mind rushed instantly to the worst-case scenarios of what it could contain. 

You didn’t dare to move your eyes from the door, waiting what else could still happen. The envelope would be for later, for when the immediate danger was far away. The danger would never end though before either you or the man was dead. 

Receding footsteps behind the door could be heard, as the man was probably leaving. He surely knew you were still there. But he also knew you wouldn’t give up that easily. 

A few minutes went by as you just stared at the envelope silently. It felt threatening; what else could it contain than something meant to drive you crazy with fear? The envelope tried to present itself as so innocent, laying there on the floor, but you knew better. 

Hesitantly, you finally approached and picked it up. The floor was quite moist. The snow from your boots had melted into a tiny puddle of water and made the envelope wet. You didn’t know whether to hope the letter inside was still readable, or that the most likely threatening words on it would be complete nonsense to your eyes. 

But against your expectations, a photograph could be found inside. 

You wanted to throw up once you saw it. 

The picture was of a dead sparrow on a road. You had seen dead animals before, sure, but this bird had been run over with a car, left mangled in a mess of fresh blood, broken bones and ruined feathers. The poor sparrow was barely recognizable, but what confirmed your suspicions of the bird’s species was a feather you found from the envelope as well. 

Dry blood was spilled on it, making it even filthier than it already was. You felt like you were holding evidence of a crime in your hands. But who would care about a dead sparrow? Although it was a sign that you could be the next victim, there wouldn’t be much the police could do. 

As if finding the sparrow’s feather and a photograph of the gruesome fate the bird had faced wasn’t enough, you found handwritten text on the backside of the picture. 

“I’m sorry. It’s too late to stop the car now.” 

It was no surprise that you thought about that envelope and its contents for the next days. 

Days flew by like on wings, and it didn’t take a long time until you were sitting on one of the ten armchairs again. The therapy room wasn’t full yet, only Seonghwa and Hongjoong chatting quietly in the other side and Mingi sitting near them, bopping his head while listening to music on his headphones. They were probably the most harmless people in the group, being the only ones you hadn’t interacted with, but there was still a possibility. Possibility that one of them had been following you. It surely had to be one of the group members who was tormenting you and making you fear for your life. 

You watched as Jongho came in. With the usual unamused expression on his face, he scanned the room with his eyes. It didn’t take more than one second for his eyes to find you. 

“Hi,” you gained courage to greet Jongho as he sat down next to you. It was for the best if you got on everyone’s good sides so they wouldn’t have a reason to kill you. 

You hadn’t expected or even hoped to start any conversation but a greeting back would have been nice. He couldn’t even spare you an acknowledging glance, just ignored you completely. Having had enough, you swore to yourself silently you would never talk to him again. 

“Did you save this seat for me or were you hoping someone else would take it before I could?” Jongho finally replied, not to your greeting but it was a reply nonetheless. 

His gaze was suddenly on you. The way his eyes tried to break through your barriers, and find out all your darkest secrets and deepest fears, made you feel like you were naked. Not naked in a way that he would desire you, but naked in a way that he would think of you as disgusting if he found out what kind of a person you really were. 

“Neither. I don’t really care who sits next to me.” 

“Don’t you remember I told you last week to sit next to me today?” 

Why was everyone so focused on who was sitting next to you? Last week Wooyoung, San, and Yunho had gotten into an argument over seat arrangements, and now Jongho was pressed about you being open to sitting next to anyone. Well, you were definitely not open to sitting next to Yunho, but like Hell you were going to say it out loud. That could only end up in the said man losing his composure and shooting you with a Glock 22. 

“O-Oh, I’m sorry. I had a rough week so I think it slipped my mind.” 

Jongho’s face was surprisingly neutral unlike in the horrifying scenarios you had come up with. He just nodded, but it was likely he knew you were lying. 

“Why do you want to sit next to me?” you presented a question that had been occupying your mind since last week. 

His expression didn’t even falter as he leaned closer to you. As he whispered, his warm breath tickled your ear. 

“Stay here after the session. It’s not safe to tell you when we’re this near to other people.” 

If his closeness didn’t already send shivers down your spine, his threatening words definitely did. The tone of his voice was unreadable. You had no indication of what words were about to leave his plump lips after the session. 

You could barely focus as the session started with everyone finally in the room. The hem of your shirt was crumbled up inside your fists, as you pondered about all the possible things Jongho could tell you. 

“Valentine’s Day is approaching, and to honor that, we will write each other short, anonymous letters of appreciation today!” 

Hongjoong sighed in frustration at Charlotte’s words while everyone else seemed somewhat intrigued. Even Jongho’s ears perked up at the mention of letters. 

Seonghwa had a question, “Should I write one letter to everyone?” 

“Yes. It’s to show we all care about each other,” Charlotte smiled, “You may even find out about a possible secret admirer.” 

You understood Hongjoong’s frustration. He was clearly here to receive help to his workaholism yet now he had to write letters to eight different people he couldn’t care less about. 

“Remember: only nice things. We don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings here.” 

Hongjoong looked like he wanted not only to hurt Charlotte’s feelings but her physically too. That’s how dark his expression looked, left eye almost twitching from annoyance. 

When everyone had eight little pieces of paper and a pen in their hands, they found places to write at. Some had hidden in the corners of the room, unlike San and Wooyoung who were next to each other, cackling together at the things they wrote. 

“Do you think Jongho would take this well?” 

“I don’t recommend writing that to him. He doesn’t seem like the type to understand jokes,” San answered to Wooyoung as he took a look at his paper. 

You had stayed on your chair and decided to start with writing to Seonghwa. He seemed like a normal person, and you had pleasant things to say about him. 

“Your facial features are like a god had crafted them,” is what you truly craved to say to him, but instead of that, you just wrote, “Your hair is beautiful but your face even more so. Don’t cover it.” 

Glancing at him, you noticed how he was hiding behind his quite long, black hair again. A thoughtful look on his face, he was writing a letter, and you wondered who it could be for. 

You decided to write for Yeosang next. The letters were supposed to be anonymous so you couldn’t reveal too much. 

“You make me feel more comfortable here. Also, I love your birth mark.” 

Next letter was for San, “You clearly take good care of your body. Would you take good care of me as well?” 

You were insane already according to your psychiatrist, but this just made you feel even crazier. Letter by letter you were getting bolder, having fun with the fact that nobody could pinpoint you as the letter’s writer with complete certainty. 

“Do you make love songs as well? I could be your next muse,” as you wrote your letter to Mingi, you almost giggled to yourself. 

“If I kissed you, would that shut you up for a second?” read in the letter for Wooyoung. 

You were having way too much fun with writing these until you realized you’d have to write for Hongjoong, Jongho, and Yunho. The men that scared you the most. Hongjoong was stern, Jongho secretive and cryptic, and Yunho unstable. That was the end of your playful, bold letters. 

You pondered what to write for Hongjoong. It had to be something lame and not too affectionate. 

“I find your work ethic admirable but don’t burn yourself out.” 

Was that too personal? You did not care. It felt anonymous enough, so if he got mad, he wouldn’t be able to direct his anger at only you. 

“I’m interested in finding out what you’re like,” was what you wrote for Jongho. 

It would be impossible for him to guess who wrote it. You didn’t lie in your letter; Jongho was intriguing though intimidating. 

But what to write for Yunho? That was the question. 

You raised your gaze from the paper to look at him and consider what words would you write on the paper. As you looked around, your eyes found him in the corner of the room. Surprisingly, he wasn’t looking at you unlike usually. He seemed very invested on the writing process. 

It had never gone unnoticed by you how handsome he was. How handsome all of them were. His presence and looks reminded you of a friendly golden retriever, but you knew he was in fact not like that. His eyes that always lingered on you were more like of a hungry wolf that has gotten too comfortable with seeing life leave its preys’ eyes. 

“Your hair is black. I like the color black.” 

Your letter to Yunho was nothing but lame, but that was exactly how you wanted it to be. 

The timer rang indicating time was up, just as you had finished writing all the letters. 

“Give all the letters to me and I’ll deal them to their correct receivers,” Charlotte guided. 

After you had handed the letters to her, you remembered San’s shirt, which he had lent you at the cafe. You had to give it back to him. 

As you returned the shirt to its rightful owner, you mumbled sheepishly, “I’m sorry. I forgot to wash your shirt, so it may have my scent on it.” 

Something flickered in San’s eyes at your words. He took the shirt from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours. 

“No worries. I don’t mind,” a delightful look he couldn’t hide was on his face. 

The whole interaction made you feel weird. Why did he seem so happy although you returned him his shirt used?  

You didn’t have much time to analyze his actions, since Charlotte started sharing the letters to everyone. 

As you received the eight letters in your hands, you were getting surprisingly excited. Of course, you were scared of what other people thought of you, but the chance of a letter complimenting or wishing you nice things felt inviting. 

“Seonghwa may start reading his letters.” 

You listened intently as Seonghwa started reading his letters out loud. 

“You seem soft-spoken and respectful.” 

“Your voice is soothing.” 

Seonghwa read a few letters before finally seeing the letter you had written. 

“Your hair is beautiful but your face even more so. Don’t cover it.” 

A pretty, flustered smile spread on his lips. Despite the letter’s guidance, he covered his face with his hair like out of a habit, as he blushed. 

“The writer of this is lying.” 

You almost screamed out “No, I’m not!” when you heard Seonghwa’s words, but he had already moved on to the next letter. 

Hongjoong’s letters were comments about his clothes, and you realized you should have written those things as well, when you heard his reaction to your letter. 

“Burn myself out? I can take care of myself very well, so no-one has to worry about my state,” he spoke, clearly irritated. 

It was too near, that your face would have flushed in embarrassment and revealed everyone the stupid letter had been written by you. 

The round continued with Yeosang reading out compliments about his calm nature, looks and the birthmark. Like Seonghwa, he seemed shy and flustered to receive such kind words. It was like he had never been appreciated the way he should be. 

“Stay away from her.” 

As Yeosang read those words out loud, everyone, including Hongjoong who had looked bored, turned to look at Yeosang, shocked. 

“I told you guys, only nice words,” Charlotte scolded everyone gently, like she did not care that much about the ominous words on the paper Yeosang was holding in his trembling hands. 

“Does it say anything else?” you asked before you could stop yourself. 

Yeosang shook his head, lips pressed in a tight line. 

“Who is the writer talking about?” Seonghwa wondered. 

“Who else than Y/N? She is the only woman here.” 

You had suspected that immediately when Yeosang had read the paper, but hearing Hongjoong say it, made the clenching feeling in your heart tighten. 

“It’s not April’s Day yet, the writer should not joke like that,” Charlotte just chuckled light-heartedly, “Let’s move on to Mingi.” 

The said man smiled excitedly, more ready than ever to look through the letters. 

“You look like a duck.” 

Mingi tilted his head at the letter, not quite sure if it was a compliment or insult. 

“I don’t think it was an insult. Ducks are cute,” Yunho smiled. 

Mingi smiled back, relieved that the letter for him wasn’t meant to insult. 

“Do you make love songs as well? I could be your next muse,” Mingi read the next letter out loud, voice wavering more and more at every word he said. 

He casted accusatory looks on everyone around the room. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his reaction to your letter. It was so cute, but unclear if he was happy or mad about the flirty words. 

“Well, to answer the question on the letter, I haven’t found my muse yet so there are no love songs.” 

The next turn was Yunho’s after Mingi had read everything. Yunho seemed to be enjoying the letters, but it was almost like he was searching for something. 

It was the last letter he read, that was the one you had written. 

“Your hair is black. I like the color black.” 

Yunho smiled confusedly at the words directed to him, “Thank you. I was thinking of dying it, but I’ll keep it black just for you.” 

What was terrifying was that he turned to look at you when he said that. Did he somehow know you were the one who wrote the letter? It shouldn’t have been even possible. Anyone could have written those words, yet he still decided to be a creep and stare at you like he always did and would continue doing. 

San started going through his letters, most complimenting his muscles and kindness. A slight smile decorated his lips as he thanked for each and every letter he received. It was adorable and admirable how respectful he always was. 

Suddenly, his smile turned into a frown. It was not only of concern. You could swear there was a hint of anger deep inside his eyes. 

“Who is writing these pathetic threats?” 

“What do you mean, San?” Charlotte asked. 

“I got the same letter as Yeosang. Telling me to stay away from Y/N.” 

Something was wrong. This couldn’t be just a joke; you were sure of that. You had no proof, so it was easy for Charlotte to play it off just as a stupid joke, but this was a threat from someone inside the group. 

“I also have it!” Wooyoung chimed in, taking out a letter he had received. 

Your heartbeat was accelerating as you thought about who could have written those threats. It had to be Yunho. He was the only one who seemed crazy enough. 

“Jongho and Y/N, check if you have those letters as well.” 

At Charlotte’s demand, you started checking the letters you had gotten. It was difficult with trembling hands which were barely able to hold onto the letters. One of them even slipped out of your hands onto the floor. 

“I don’t have a letter like that,” you heard Jongho say, as you were picking up the piece of paper you had dropped. 

The paper wasn’t the only thing that had dropped. Your heart dropped as well, once you saw the last letter you hadn’t gone through yet. 

It would have seemed innocent in anyone else’s eyes. They would have said “aww, cute!” when they saw the drawing on the paper, but you knew better than to think of it as harmless. 

The drawing wasn’t that good, on the average side actually, but you recognized what it was. It was a bird. 

That bird was alive and well, even had a smile on its face, unlike the bird on the photograph you had received a few days ago. But anyone with a brain would have been able to put two and two together. The bird was clearly meant to be a sparrow despite the drawer’s lacking skills. 

You didn’t want to read the text next to the drawing, but it was inevitable. 

“This time the bird is alive. Do you want to stay alive as well?” 

Immediately after reading the words, you burst into tears. It was not a beautiful sight, a grown woman crying and hyperventilating. 

You honestly felt like you were going to suffocate. The fear was pulling you deeper underwater, threatening to drown you. You couldn’t breathe. No matter how many breaths you took in in just a couple seconds, they were too shallow and short for you to get in the air you so desperately needed. You needed air. You needed to get out of here. You needed someone to touch you soothingly, but at the moment, you despised the idea of any of those men getting close to you. 

Still, one of the men walked to you and got on his knees in front of you. 

“Deep breaths. Don’t focus on anything else but breathing and my voice.” 

You closed your eyes as the man took your hand. The way your nails dug onto his hand probably left marks, but he didn’t seem to care, because he knew you needed to hold onto something in this moment of vulnerability. 

“I-I’m going to die!” you sobbed, keeping your eyes tightly shut, as if it could have protected you from the reality. 

“Everything is going to be fine. I’ll take care of you, angel.” 

The feeling of embarrassment, that was surely going to arrive later if you didn’t die now, didn’t even cross your mind. You were too focused on surviving this moment. You were in danger, you knew it. First the photograph and feather of that dead bird, and now an indirect threat. The stalker was here in this room with you, analyzing your every move and taking pleasure in seeing your terror. 

You opened your eyes again. The once comforting lights in the room felt suddenly too bright, like you were on stage, forced to perform for thousands of people. You could almost hear the laughter of the audience in your ears. They were all mocking and observing you. 

“Look at me, Y/N,” the man in front of you said softly. 

The man was mocking you too. He was just crueler than the others, wanting to see you fall for his comfort and then crush you with his bare hands. 

“I’m not going to hurt you. Look into my eyes.” 

Slowly, you forced your gaze to look at the man. It was Seonghwa. He didn’t have a cruel smile on his face nor was he looking at you with danger. Just a genuine, compassionate look as he held your hand. 

“What happened, Y/N?” Charlotte asked. 

“Are you alright?” San worried. 

“Of course she isn’t. She had a panic attack,” Wooyoung slapped San’s shoulder. 

You felt dizzy, finally realizing that everyone had their eyes pinned on you. It felt like you were an animal at the zoo, only meant for everyone to observe you. 

“I want out...” you tried to breathe, “I need air.” 

Seonghwa nodded instantly and helped you up from your seat, “Come, I’ll help you.” 

If anyone else than Seonghwa or Yeosang had done that, you would have screamed and ran away – that is if your legs would have worked in their shaky state. You let Seonghwa lead you away gently. 

Once you were sitting in the hallway, out of the therapy room, Seonghwa opened the windows to let in fresh air. He didn’t care if the electricity bills leaped into astronomical prices; Charlotte deserved to pay a bit more anyways, since she hadn’t done her job as a therapist and helped you. 

Seonghwa put his own jacket on you. 

“Breathe in through your nose and let it out through your mouth.” 

You listened to Seonghwa’s guidance. After a while, you just felt exhausted. You had gone through a panic attack, and it had taken a toll on your body. Only now you noticed how sweaty you were yet chills still shook your body. 

“Can you tell me what caused you this distress?” Seonghwa asked, tracing circles on the back of your hand. 

As you explained the envelope that had slipped in through your mail slot, and what the letter said, Seonghwa’s eyes grew concerned. 

“Have you considered telling the police?” 

“I don’t know if there’s anything they can do in practice.” 

“You could ask Yunho. He probably knows.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Yunho. That man was most likely the one behind all of this! If you told him that you were going to snitch on him to the police, he’d kill you faster. 

“I can’t. Please, Seonghwa. Don’t tell anyone about this.” 

Seonghwa looked worried but gave a reassuring smile and a nod, “I won’t. Your secret is safe with me.” 

Once you two came back to the therapy room, everyone looked grim. 

“Y/N. I don’t want to worry you even more, but I think you need to hear this.” 

You gulped and nodded your head, giving Charlotte your permission to continue. 

“We noticed that the handwriting in the letter you received is same that in the threatening letters to San, Wooyoung and Yeosang.” 

Was that supposed to surprise you? The stalker, who had followed you home, and given the envelope and letter, was clearly trying to isolate you. He was trying to have you all alone, at his mercy, cornered like a mouse. 

“I understand your reaction, since this letter seemed quite scary, but I think there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Charlotte continued. 

“But this-” 

“It’s just your wild imagination playing tricks on you again. There’s no danger. Those letters were nothing but a stupid joke.” 

The rest of the session, you stayed silent, staring at the floor. Others were exchanging stories and experiences of their lives, doing what you should have done as well. 

But it wouldn’t be safe for you to tell anything more about yourself. The stalker was among the group, gathering more information about you every second. 

Every breath you took was pained, lungs feeling like they would rip from the massive amounts of air you took in to stay calm. 

The session went on and on, everyone seemingly relaxed. It was so unfair. So fucking unfair that you had to be the one, shaking in fear, when no-one but Seonghwa took your concerns seriously. 

After many excruciatingly slow minutes, the session ended and you were able to leave and go home finally. Although you weren’t completely safe at home either, it was the one place you could barricade yourself in. 

“Did you forget something?” Jongho’s voice startled you as you were walking out. 

Realizing you were supposed to talk to him after the session, you stopped in your tracks. That didn’t stop your shaking though. Even Jongho himself had said that everyone was a possible threat, including him. 

“Do you want to know why I wanted you to sit next to me?” 

“Yes, please,” you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. 

You shouldn’t show any weakness in front of him. 

Jongho looked around, making sure everyone was out of earshot. Sounds of Wooyoung and San’s loud conversation somewhere echoed in the house but it seemed like they wouldn’t hear Jongho’s words. Jongho had a serious expression, a slight frown on his handsome face. He then turned his eyes on you, a hint of sympathy flickering in them. 

“I want to protect you. I know someone from the group is following you.” 

It scared you how observant Jongho was. What else did he know? 

“I have a proposal to you which may help.” 

Your ears perked up although you had already been listening almost too intently. 

“Go ahead.” 

Jongho’s voice was careful yet firm, like he knew what he was going to suggest would be difficult to hear yet a clever idea, “I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend.” 

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<- Chapter 3.

Chapter 5. ->

Masterlist

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Taglist: @devilzliaison

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 31: Warmth

You cope with the aftermath of patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-30 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Fall out from canon-typical violence. Plot points from TLOU2. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 8k

A/N: Hi y'all. This does have a continuation of the spoilers from TLOU2. Again, I'm so sorry for not warning about these further in advance. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a DM (or you can always yell in the comments or in my asks. I don't delete things if they're not the kindest so I'll leave whatever you want to send my way up, I totally get it.) Thanks for being here ❤️

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It shouldn’t be this hard to stay conscious when the world is ending. 

You’d had the thought before, in the early days of the outbreak. When you were trying to find someplace safe and had no idea where to start, when you were just riding and riding and hoping you’d be alive to see the next morning. 

But now was different. It wasn’t your life, it was Joel’s. His was so much more important than your own and the fear of losing him was keeping you awake. You’d nod off for a second - you thought, anyway - only to jerk back awake when your grip on his wrist slipped and his pulse wasn’t a constant - if weak - drumbeat below your fingers. 

You weren’t quite sure how long you’d been on the floor with him. Things were fuzzy. You’d lost a lot of blood, you were familiar with that sensation now, you could identify it even as your mind was foggy. You still weren’t entirely sure what had happened. You remembered Joel screaming - you didn’t think you’d ever forget that horrific sound - and running to find him. You remembered watching as that girl swung the golf club down on his body. It wasn’t until you were already in the room, fighting for control of your gun with someone who looked like he was about Ellie’s age that you realized this was probably a mistake. You’d charged in without a plan to get backup, you were hugely outnumbered, no one knew where the fuck you were. You should have at least gone back for your horse, you were pretty sure she could have fit down here and you could have used sheer size and weight to clear the room. 

But they were killing him. That’s all that could force that sound from someone, life and death, and you couldn’t risk it. If there was a chance, even a tiny one, that you could save him, you were going to take it. Even if it killed you, you were going to take it. 

The threat was gone now - or you hoped it was, at least. Gatling was still on guard. You could feel how tense she was behind you, her body engaged and ready to strike. If they came back armed to the teeth before help arrived, though, you’d be finished. 

Joel’s wrist, the one you’d been holding, relaxed some and you forced yourself to sit up. 

“Joel?” You managed, adjusting your hold on him. His whole arm was limp now. Your heart beat faster. You released his wrist and pressed your fingers into his neck, where you liked to kiss him and feel the vital thrum of his pulse through his skin. It was faint but it was there. You adjusted yourself, propping yourself up on your elbow as your cut side screamed in pain, and you ran your fingers through his hair. You took comfort in the fact that you still could do that. While the rest of his body had been brutalized, Joel’s head was intact outside of where it looked like someone had landed a punch on his cheek near his eye, a bruise blossoming on his skin but no blood shed. It was like the girl had been saving his head for last, like she was trying to draw it out, make sure he was alive and awake while she hurt him. It turned your stomach. 

“You’re OK Joel,” you held face gently in your hand. “Gonna get you out of here, get you back to Ellie. You’re OK.” 

You stayed propped up like that for a while, just talking to him and running your fingers gently through his hair and feeling his breath on your skin until you were too weak to hold yourself up anymore. You collapsed alongside him then, trying to shield his body with yours as much as you could in case the people came back. 

Just a little sleep. That’s all. That’s what you needed, just enough rest to be able to think straight. Then you could figure out how to get Tommy and Joel back to Jackson. 

“Gatling,” you managed before you passed out. “Guard.” 

You woke up to snarling. 

Your head was swimming and you could feel the strength of the dog at your side, her body pressed back against you as she growled and barked. You tried to get your bearings as quickly as you could, fumbling for the rifles you’d brought to Joel’s side. 

“Bambi!” You recognized Ellie’s voice. “Bambi, call off Gatling, she won’t listen to me, we can’t get close enough…” 

“Gatling,” you gritted your teeth, your cut side burning and pulling as you tried to sit up. “Down.” 

You felt her relax and she gave a little whine before curling up against you and giving you a lick. You managed to prop yourself up on your uninjured side, eyes fighting to focus as Ellie, Jesse, Julie and Gene came in. Ellie ran for Joel, Gatling giving a little whine as she tracked her with her eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” Gene said as he got a good look at Joel. 

“He’s alive,” Ellie said, her voice cracking. “I thought…” 

“I know,” you adjusted so you could see him, check on his bandages. Your side protested, damaged skin pulling painfully. “But we have to get him to the doctor, we have to move him now…” 

“I don’t know that we can,” Gene knelt next to Ellie, looking Joel up and down. 

You frowned. 

“The fuck do you mean you don’t know.” 

“I mean,” he said gently. “We need to move quick, already been here too long, and we only have so many hands. I don’t know that he can make it back to Jackson and we should focus on…” 

“Fuck you,” your teeth were clenched, sweat starting at your temples from the strain of sitting upright. “We are not just gonna leave him out here…” 

“If we can save you and Tommy?” Gene said. “Then that’s what we should do. That’s what he’d want.” 

“Fuck you!” Ellie looked murderous. “Bambi’s right…” 

“C’mon,” Julie’s hands gently enveloped your shoulders. “Let’s try to get you up…” 

“I’m not going!” You wrenched yourself out of her grip and cried out in pain, a gush of blood coming from the wound at your side. “I’m not going without him, I’m not leaving him here!” 

Julie’s hands were on you again but you pulled yourself free, forcing yourself to your knees. 

“You’re gonna get yourself hurt,” Gene warned, moving for you, too, but you ignored him. 

“Gatling!” You managed through clenched teeth. Her head sprang up. “Guard!” 

She jumped to her feet and jumped between you and Gene. 

“Bambi,” he said cautiously, hands up, as your dog snapped her jaws and snarled at him. 

“I’m not going anywhere without him,” you were panting for breath. “You can’t make me, not with her like this. She’ll kill you and I’ll fuckin’ let her. Take him. Now.” 

Gene looked back at Jesse, who was helping Tommy sit up. He just shrugged. Gene looked back to you. 

“Fine,” he said. “But you gotta give us some space to work, can’t move him with her like this…” 

You struggled to your feet, using Julie’s shoulder as leverage, and you limped to the wall, all but collapsing against it. Gatling stayed on you, staring Gene down, seeming to trust Julie as you leaned against her. 

“She’s guardin’ me,” you said. “Won’t bother you over there. Move him. Do it.” 

You watched as Gene, Jesse and Ellie got Joel off the floor and out of the room. There was a perverse spot on the ground where his body had been, his blood pooled there. There was so much of it, so much it didn’t seem like there would be any left inside of him. You remembered, suddenly, Justin on the night of the outbreak. How you’d tried to put his blood back inside of him in the hopes that it would save him. How could you save the man you loved if all his blood was on the floor? 

“He’s alive?” Tommy asked from his place propped against the wall. There was a streak of blood down his face. 

“He’s alive,” you said. He closed his eyes and nodded, leaning his head against the wall. 

“Thank you,” he said, quietly enough that you could barely hear him. “I can’t…” 

“It’s OK,” you said. “We’ll get him back. He’ll be OK. He will.” 

You weren’t sure you believed it.

Jesse came back down and helped Tommy up before stopping near the door, keeping a safe distance from you and Gatling. 

“We got him on a horse,” he said. “We gotta move.” 

You gave him a nod and watched him get Tommy started on the stairs before you looked down at Gatling, her body drawn tight, ready to spring into action. 

“Gatling. Heel.” 

She looked up at you, muscle relaxing, and licked her lips. 

“You’re a good girl,” you said, trying to imbue as much praise into your voice as you could manage. “You did real good.” 

She wagged a little uncertainly and watched, waiting to follow you. Julie looped your arm around her shoulders while hers slipped around your waist and she helped you toward the stairs, taking it slow. You had to stop and rest once, not able to breathe, the warm gush of your blood when you pulled the air down low in your lungs making your head spin. 

“Think you can make it?” Julie asked, concerned. 

You nodded, wincing. 

“I’ll make it,” you said. “I know, we have to move.” 

She held you a little tighter and the cold air burned your lungs when you made it outside. Joel was draped over Ares, Gene mounted up behind him. Tommy was on his own horse, blood still on his face as he stared blankly at Joel’s limp body. 

“You can ride with me,” Julie said but you shook your head. You weren’t about to not be in control of a horse, not in this situation. You needed to have the power if something went wrong. You couldn’t trust anyone else to make Joel a priority if there were infected or raiders or, worst of all, the people who had attacked him to begin with. You needed to be able to move to protect him. 

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth, even though you knew getting on Renaissance was going to hurt something fierce. “Don’t need to be slowin’ us down any more by putting two of us on a horse.” 

She went to protest but you pulled away from her and swallowed the sounds of your pain as you went to Renaissance and pulled yourself onto her. You called Gatling onto your saddle, too, and she settled there, still on high alert. You guided the horse to be alongside Gene and Joel and stared Gene down, almost daring him to fight you on it. 

“I want to get everyone back,” he said gently. “But if it’s not everyone, I want as many as I can get.” 

“Then let’s go,” you bit out. 

The ride back to Jackson felt long, longer than it really was, you were sure. Every step Renaissance made was painful. It was hard to stay conscious when you’d lost so much blood and the pain was blinding. You were terrified that something was going to happen, that someone was going to pick now to attack people from Jackson and that you wouldn’t be strong enough to save Joel. The thought was constant and overbearing, hollowing out your chest and making your stomach clench. 

By the time the walls of the city were in view, you were barely able to stay on your horse. Dina had ridden ahead to tell the doctors and the council what was happening and you were thankful for it as your head spun and vision grew spotty as you neared the gates. You were too out of it to notice that someone was there to catch you as your strength started to give out.

“Woah there!” You vaguely recognized Ryan, a guard you regularly saw when he went out on patrol, stomach turning as he lowered you to the snow. “Hey Doc! Got one here!” 

“No,” you shook your head, words starting to slur. The blood on your clothes was cold against your skin. “M’fine… Joel, need to help Joel…” 

“They’re getting him,” he said, looking down at you. He had a nice face, you thought. Pleasant and calming. “You got him back here, it’s OK. We’ll get you taken care of, it’s alright…” 

“Joel,” you closed your eyes. At least things were warmer here. It hurt less. “Need… Joel…” 

“We’ve got him,” Ryan said. His voice sounded so far away. “It’s alright, we’ve got him.” 

You barely remembered nodding before you passed out. 

You were warmer when you woke up. 

Sound came first. It took a moment before you could open your eyes but you could hear the muffled sounds of bickering not far away. For half a moment, you thought you were in Joel’s bed. That he and Ellie were in a tiff just outside his bedroom door, going back and forth about some harebrained scheme that one of them had latched onto. You thought about pressing your face into the pillow and trying to go back to sleep, hoping that Joel would come in once one of them wore the other down. He did that sometimes when he woke up before you, bringing you a cup of tea and setting it on the nightstand before wrapping around you, pulling you into his broad chest and burying his face in your hair or your neck, kissing you and breathing you in until you stirred in his arms. 

And then you remembered. Waking up next to Joel. Going on Patrol. The storm. The blood. 

You tried to sit up before your eyes were open, side pulling and head spinning. 

“Hey guys, she’s waking up!” 

Your eyes had never been heavier but you forced them open anyway, already reaching and groping to figure out where you’d ended up. 

The room was bright, the bed soft. It was the third time you’d managed to dodge death and awoken, confused and lightheaded, in Jackson’s clinic. The other bed was empty.  

“Joel,” you started trying to get up but two small hands held you in bed and you frowned, ready to fight whoever was holding you back, but it was Savvy, her eyebrows drawn tightly together, curls springing in every direction. 

“Mom, you have to be calm, you’ll rip your stitches…” 

She was here. She was with you, willing to talk to you, touch you. The sound of her voice, all gentle concern, made your chest tighten. You just looked at her for a moment, seeking out the minute changes in her since you’d gotten a chance to see her - really see her - last. You thought she might be having her last growth spurt. She looked a little longer, her face a little thinner. There was a scratch on her cheek that you wanted to kiss like you did when she was little. There were tears in her eyes. 

“Savvy…” 

“I was so scared,” her voice cracked. “I thought you might be dead, I thought…” 

“Oh honey,” you pulled her against you and held her to your chest, one arm looping around her waist, the other hand cradling her head to you, the wet of her tears on your neck. You kissed her temple and tried to keep the tears that were starting to cling to your eyelashes from falling. “It’s OK, you’re alright, I’ve got you. Don’t have to be scared, you’re OK.” 

“I’ve never seen you like that,” she sniffed from her place against your skin. “You’re always so strong, you’re never hurt, not like that…” 

“I know,” you said softly, rocking her gently. “I’m sorry, Honey, I wish you hadn’t seen that. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never see it again and we can talk all about it but baby, I need to know where Joel is. Is he here? Is he OK? Is he alive?” 

She sniffed and started to pull back from you as the door opened, Ellie, Tommy, Maria and Dr. Livingston coming in. They moved slowly, cautiously. Like they were worried you would startle if they behaved normally. Tommy looked washed out, Ellie exhausted, both with grim looks on their faces. Your arms went limp and Savvy sat back from you, looking between you and them. 

“No,” you shook your head, a lump growing in your throat. “No, no, you’re wrong, he’s not…” 

“He’s alive,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “Barely. But you got him here just in time, it was very very close while we worked on him…” 

“Where is he,” you tried to get up again but Savvy held you down. “I need to see him, just for a second, please…” 

“He’s still unconscious,” Dr. Livingston continued. 

You frowned, looking between everyone. 

“That’s bad,” you said, reading their expressions. “Why… How long has it been?”

“We’ve been back about two and a half days,” Tommy said, his arms crossed over his chest. 

You nodded slowly. That made sense to you.

“He was hurt bad,” you said, looking between them again. “He lost a lot of blood…” 

“He did,” Dr. Livingston said. “But… well, we’d normally expect to see more from him by now. He’s breathing on his own - we don’t have the facilities to keep him alive if he can’t - but that’s the best we can really say for him. He’s… he’s unresponsive.” 

You processed what she said for a moment.

“You’re sure?” 

She nodded, her mouth a thin line. 

“Are you…” You had to close your eyes and focus for a second. None of this came easy or naturally. It was utterly unnatural, thinking of Joel in that way. He was so strong, so vital. He couldn’t just stop being like that. He couldn’t just fade away into nothing like that. “Are you saying he might not wake up?” 

“The longer he’s like this, the more likely it becomes,” Dr. Livingston said. 

“But he’s still alive,” you said, looking back toward Ellie and Tommy again, looking for that reassurance that you weren’t crazy. They knew him, they knew that he wouldn’t just disappear from his body like that. “He’s still breathing.” 

“He’s alive,” she said. “But he might be brain dead, we have no way of knowing right now, no way of scanning for brain function like we did before… I’m so sorry, but you have to consider the possibility that…” 

“Take me to see him,” you cut her off. She looked at Maria, worry in her eyes, like she thought you might be unstable. “Please.” 

Dr. Livingston sighed. 

“You’ve got a fair few fresh stitches and you’re still down plenty of blood yourself. We’ll have to take it slow.” 

Ellie and Savvy helped you stand up and you could feel the wounds on your leg and stomach protesting the movement. For a moment, you thought you might be able to count the number of stitches in your skin because the way it pulled and strained. You hissed and clutched the girls’ hands, squeezing their fingers so hard that you could only hope it didn’t hurt them. 

They helped you across a short hallway to a room that was almost identical to the one you’d been in, just with one fewer bed, giving people more room to work. Joel was there, flat on his back, his arms down straight at his sides over the top of the blanket. But he looked strange, unnatural. 

It took you a moment to recognized the part of it that was wrong. His chest rose and fell, the worst of his injuries hidden by the quilt. He looked like he was sleeping. But it was off. He never slept like that, straight as a board with his arms at his sides in that way. It wasn’t like him, it wasn’t the way his body arranged itself when he was relaxed. Even when he wasn’t curled around you, he slept on his side or, if he was on his back, his hands were folded and resting where his chest met his stomach. He napped on the couch that way sometimes, when he was sleeping lightly, waiting for you. You could come in and press a kiss to his forehead and he would open one eye and cock a smile at you, just big enough that his cheek would dimple. 

But if your lips touched him now, you knew he’d be still. He wouldn’t look at you like you made him happy just by existing. His cheek wouldn’t dimple. 

You made your way to a chair near the head of the bed and lowered yourself into it slowly. His skin was pale, his face totally lax in a way that wasn’t peaceful and was, instead, like an echo. 

“Oh God,” you breathed, one hand going to your lips. 

“We’re doing everything we can,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “We have ways to get him fluids and nutrients but… it’s nothing long term. We’ll just have to hope he makes a turn for the better.”

You nodded, not able to stop looking at him. His body was so empty, so unlike him. 

“Can I stay with him?” You asked quietly. You weren’t sure when you’d started crying but you were. 

“Sure,” she said. “For now. But you need rest…” 

You just nodded. You’d fight that battle when the time came. 

The doctor left you with the girls, Tommy and Maria. Joel’s family and yours. All the people you had in the world in this one, small room. 

“I was going to go home and get changed, take a nap…” Ellie said quietly. “Can I bring you something?” 

“One of his shirts?” You asked. 

“Sure,” she said. You heard the door open and she paused. “You did everything you could, Bambi. We all did.” 

You nodded, not willing to argue with her. 

“I think Tommy and I will get out of here for a bit, too,” Maria said. “Give you some time. We’ll be back in a few hours unless I can actually get my husband to get some real sleep…” 

“He wouldn’t be sleepin’ if it were me,” Tommy said, voice sharper than you were used to hearing. 

Maria sighed. 

“Come on, honey,” she said. “You need rest, too.” 

The room was quiet for a moment, so quiet you could hear the sound of Joel’s shallow breaths. You wanted to put your head on his chest and listen to the life inside him, reassure yourself that he was still in there somewhere, but you didn’t want to hurt him. You’d already done enough. 

“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was soft. “Is it… can I stay? For a bit?” 

You managed to pull your eyes away from Joel to find her, standing to the side, her arms tight over her chest. 

“Of course baby,” you said, looking for another chair. She found one first, moving it to be beside yours. She settled in there, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a heavy sigh. She was looking at Joel, her face drawn. “How have you been?” 

She shrugged noncommittally. 

“Alright, I guess,” she said. “School is OK. Math is stupid.” 

You laughed lightly once. 

“Math’s not stupid but… I know what you mean. Wasn’t ever my strong suit. I liked history best. And music, of course.” 

“Course,” she smiled a little. “I like Ellie and… I like staying where I have been but… I missed you. Missed home.” 

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. 

“I missed you, too,” you said, voice wet. “So much. More than anything.” 

She nodded slowly, not looking at you. 

“I heard the doctors and some other people talking,” she said hesitantly. “What they were saying… It’s not the first time they’ve seen you hurt like this.” 

You waited for a moment, to make sure she was done. 

“It’s not,” you said. 

She nodded again. 

“How did you end up here?” She asked quietly. 

“I…” You sighed and tried to find the best way to phrase it. “I’d wound up with some bad people. I got hurt. Joel found me when I was in real bad shape. He brought me here. He saved me.” 

“When was that?” 

“About two years ago,” you said. 

“So you weren’t just here the whole time,” she said, more like a statement than a question. 

“No,” you said softly. “I wasn’t.” 

She nodded again. You could see her processing the information, her eyes slightly squinting as she did, so like her father used to do. It still tugged at your heart, bits and pieces of a man you’d loved still alive in his child. 

“I’m still not sure how I feel,” she said, gnawing on her lower lip. “But… I don’t want to keep being mad at you. I miss you. I’d… I’d like to find a way to see you. At least some. For now.” 

“I’d like that,” you said, sniffing a little. “I’d like that a lot. As much time as you want, honey, I’m here.” 

“OK,” she smiled a tight lipped smile at you before looking to Joel. “Do you really think he’ll wake up?” 

You sighed, looking at him, too. 

“I don’t really know anything about medicine,” you said. “But… I do know Joel. And I don’t knot that there’s anything that can keep him from taking care of the people he loves. And I know he knows Ellie needs him, you need him. And I…” your voice cracked. “I need him. He’s strong. He can pull through.” 

She nodded and slowly, gently, rested her head on your shoulder. You froze for a moment, not wanting to disturb her. But, eventually, you had to take a breath and she stayed there beside you, keeping vigil over the man who had become her guardian. 

Savvy ended up staying until after dark. Ellie came back only about an hour and a half after she left, bringing some clothes for you. You immediately put on the shirt, pressing your nose to the collar and breathing in Joel’s scent. She told you then that Savvy hadn’t left the clinic since you’d come in, always at your bedside, nearly ripping off the doctors’ heads when they dared suggest that she go home and get some rest. 

Ellie got her to go home that evening, though, after she gave you a delicate hug that, you thought, might be one of the best ones you’d ever gotten. Dr. Livingston wanted to keep you there for another few days, not something you were going to argue with since you weren’t about to leave while Joel was still there, anyway. She did make you move back to the other room and you gave up the fight quickly, waiting until you heard her leave for the night before going back across the hall, anyway. It was tricky, walking on your own when you were still healing, but you made it without any more blood leaking from you. You pulled your chair close to Joel and looked him over, tracing one finger over the soft skin of his cheek. He still looked so unnatural in this position, so unlike himself. You ran your fingers through his hair, arranging it just so, before you gently took his hands and put them at the base of his chest, one on top of the other. Not quite right, but better. It felt like his body was more his that way. 

“I’m here, Joel,” you said quietly, wanting more than anything to be able to curl up in his lap. “I’m here.” 

You sat on the floor next to the bed - not able to get comfortable enough in the chair to doze off - and rested your head on the mattress near his hip. This wasn’t exactly ideal, either, your stitches itching and pulling as you settled in, but you didn’t care. You had to be close to Joel. Some pain was worth that. 

The next day, you were shaken awake by a frustrated Dr. Palmer who was taking over so Dr. Livingston could get some rest. 

“You are bound and determined to be your own worst enemy,” she muttered, forcing you back to your own bed. She checked you over, reluctantly told you that you were healing well with no sign of infection. The second her back was turned, you were back in Joel’s room. 

Ellie, Tommy and Maria came by again, all of you sitting in near silence, watching Joel, waiting for him to do something - anything - to indicate that he was still in there. 

The next day was less quiet. You were in your usual position in the seat by the head of Joel’s bed when Tommy and Ellie started getting into it. It didn’t sound like a new argument and, you realized, the bickering you’d been only vaguely aware of as you regained consciousness was probably them. 

“I’m not going to sit around here and fucking wait forever,” Ellie snapped. “I’m going out there, I’m going to find them and I’m going to kill every last fucking one of them.” 

“We need to wait,” Tommy said, voice strained. Ellie didn’t seem to care. 

“Wait for them to get further and further away?” She snapped. “Wait for them to come back with more people? No, it’s too big of a fucking risk. I’m going out there.” 

“Need to wait until I can go with you,” Tommy snapped. “Need to wait until we know…” 

Tommy’s voice trailed off. 

“Until we know what?” Ellie demanded. “Until we know whether or not they successfully murdered him? No, fuck that, I’m going to beat the shit out of her with a goddamn golf club, make her fucking feel it…” 

“No, you won’t,” you cut her off. 

“I won’t?” She asked, brows raised, almost daring you to argue with her. “You’re not my fucking mom, Bambi, you don’t get to tell me what the fuck I do or don’t get to do.” 

“You ever killed anyone, kid?” You asked, chin resting on your fist as you watched her. She just blinked at you for a moment. “And I mean people. Real people, not infected.” 

“Yeah,” she said, though her voice was less sharp. “Yeah, I have. Two.” 

“Alright,” you replied. “You torture them? You like killing them?” 

She was silent and just looked at her feet.

“That’s what I thought,” you looked back to Joel. “You’re not going after shit, kid…”

“I’m not a fucking kid!” 

“You’re his kid,” you shot her a glare before looking back at Joel. “And he wouldn’t want you murdering and torturing people for him.”

“But…” 

“No,” you said. “If… If he… If someone needs to handle it, it will be me and Tommy. We can take them and we can make it hurt. You’ll stay here. Not gonna just let you turn into a killer for him, he’d never forgive me. He’d never forgive either of us. One of the last things he said to me was to look out for you and you better goddamn well believe that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. You’re not going any damn place.” 

She stormed out but Savvy came that evening. She brought a deck of cards and the two of you played Go Fish like you used to when she was little. She told you Ellie was cooling off but she thought she’d be OK. 

“I don’t blame her,” she said, arranging some cards in her hand. “If someone did that to you, I’d want to kill them, too.” 

You looked at her for a moment. 

“I wouldn’t want you to,” you said gently. She looked at you over the cards, skeptical. “I mean it. You hear that something bad happened to me, you take it and move on. Don’t hurt yourself thinking that will fix it. It would only make it worse.” 

The day after that, Ellie brought you your guitar. It made Dr. Palmer look nervous but you promised to take it easy and that music was how you relaxed. 

“Just don’t get all worked up and play Freebird,” she muttered, leaving you alone with Joel and your instrument. 

“Why is everyone so obsessed with Freebird?” You asked a silent Joel as you delicately arranged the guitar on your lap, dodging the stitches in your stomach and leg as you did. “There’s better shit out there…” 

You played for him whatever came to mind. The song you’d written for him kept cropping up. So did the songs you’d played with him, slower and gentler things that you tried to pull from memory, even Take on Me because it got stuck in your head. 

“Do you think he can hear me?” You asked Dr. Palmer that afternoon. 

She stepped back from him and sighed for a moment, looking at you as though she were going to gauge her answer around your demeanor. 

“No one knows for sure,” she said eventually. “But… if he could hear anybody, I think it would be you.”

By the end of the second day with your guitar, your whole body was sore and tired but you didn’t move to go back to your own room. Both doctors had given up on forcing you. You nearly ripped their heads off when they suggested you go to your house for a day or two, try to get some real rest. It was bad enough that they’d surrendered to your stubborn need to be where you could see Joel at all times, no longer willing to fight over what they thought was better for you. 

It was quiet, dark. You weren’t entirely sure what time it was but you thought everyone in town besides those on watch were at home. You were as close to home as you got now, home could only be where Joel was. You weren’t sure how to find home without him now. 

You played the song you’d written for him one more time, soft and slow, before propping the guitar against the wall and sitting delicately on the edge of the bed, careful to not disturb him. You adjusted his arms a bit, putting them where you knew he would rest them if he could move them on his own. You gently brushed his hair back. His patchy beard was getting long in spots and you wondered if Ellie could bring scissors and a razor the next time she came so you could trim it for him, keep it how he liked. You drew the shirt of his you wore tighter to yourself and just looked at him for a moment. He was so beautiful, even like this. You needed him so badly, needed him to be OK. You needed to be able to wake up next to him again, kiss him on your way out the door again, make love to him again. He couldn’t be gone, not now. Not like this.

“Joel,” you said softly, barely even a whisper. “I know… I know I should probably tell you that if you need to go, it’s OK, that we’ll be OK but… I don’t think I can. I don’t know how to do this without you, I don’t want to do this without you. I need you, I’m not sure I can be a real person without you. If you’re already gone then… then knowing you was one of the best things that ever happened to me and I’m thankful for every goddamn second of it. But if you’re still there, if you can hear me… I need you to come back to me, Joel. Just… please. Don’t leave me, don’t leave the girls, I just… I will do whatever you want, just stay. Just come back to me. Please.” 

He was still below your touch but you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, anyway, his skin soft and warm. A tear slipped from your eyelash and fell to his cheek but you didn’t move to wipe it away. You had the odd thought that maybe he would absorb it, that his skin would soak up your salt and your sadness and then, even if he didn’t come back, at least he’d have part of you in him when you put him in the ground. You wondered if you’d be able to join him. You slid off the bed and tucked your legs up against yourself, crossing your arms atop the mattress and resting your head there, drifting off to the sound of his breathing. 

***

All Joel really knew was that he was somewhere warm and soft. Warm and soft and kinder than where he’d been before, though the memory of just before was fuzzy. He remembered you, waking up with you, being inside of you, kissing you goodbye. He remembered watching Ellie ride off with her friend for their patrol. He remembered laughing with his brother about something but didn’t remember what. Everything after that was a haze of blood and pain. 

But he was warm now, somewhere that was familiar but he was having a hard time placing it. Grass and trees and a park bench that was more comfortable than it had any right to be, the sound of birds and cicadas on the air. But there were no other people. None that he could see, anyway. 

He heard voices now and then. There were some he knew were familiar but he couldn’t quite place. Others he’d have known anywhere. You, Ellie, Savvy, Tommy, Maria. It was a haze, he could make out the tones and the melodies of your speech but not the words. But that was OK. He knew all of you were close and that was enough. 

There was music, too. He would have recognized your playing from anywhere but it still seemed so obvious from wherever he was. But your music sounded sad, some kind of longing in it that wasn’t there when you usually played for him. He wanted to fix it, wanted to come from wherever he was and make it better. He just wasn’t sure that he could. But he kept hearing the song you made for him. That song was clearer than any other, so present he almost thought it was the version of it you’d recorded for him. But it wasn’t followed by the words he’d come to know so well in the months without you, the ones you’d added to the end of the tape that he listened to every night since you left. Every night until the one you came back to him. 

Come back to me, Joel. 

“Dad?” 

Joel looked around for a moment, heart pounding. He knew that voice, had heard it inside his head so many times through the years. But never like this, never this close. And then Sarah was in front of him, her curls a halo around her head, skin almost glowing in the golden sun. 

“Baby girl.” 

He realized where he knew this place from. It was a park in Austin that he took her to all the time when she was a little girl. The skyline was at his back if he could turn to face it, a playground down the hill to the right. She’d loved the open field, though. She loved being able to just run and run and run with nothing to hold her back. He tried to make himself get to his feet but he couldn’t. She just smiled. It was warm, gentle but more knowing than he’d remembered it being. But then, maybe he’d forgotten. Because otherwise, she looked exactly the same as the last time Joel had seen her, down to the clothes. Except her purple shirt wasn’t bloodstained now, her ankle wasn’t hurt. She was whole, healthy, the way she always should have been.

“Long time no see,” she sat beside him on the bench and he was able to reach her then. He reached for her slowly, cautiously, but he didn’t need to worry. She reached back, putting her arms around his neck. He held her, close and tight. She was warm and soft but the heat wasn’t coming from her. Instead it was like she was part of the place where he was, warm like the sun. She pulled back from him before too long but left a delicate hand on his knee. He tried to memorize her, make sure he knew the precise constellations of her freckles and the way her lashes framed her eyes. She looked him over and smiled that beautiful smile of hers. “You’re getting old, old man.” 

“Yeah,” he laughed a little, still not sure what to say to her. “Yeah, I know, baby girl. I know.” 

“I’ve missed you,” she was still smiling but it was sadder now. “A lot.” 

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, his voice wet. “So, so much. You have no idea how much…” 

“I know,” she said. “I’ve seen. You’ve been through a lot, Dad. So much. I wish I could have been there, I wish I could have helped you.” 

“That’s not your job…” 

“I know,” she said again. “But I still wanted to.” 

“How are you?” He asked. “I want to know everything, everything…” 

“I’ve been good,” she smiled. “I met your friend Tess. I like her. I liked her before, too, but even more now. She’s a lot like you, I’m glad you had her.” 

“How…” 

“Dad, I would love to tell you everything,” she cut him off. “But we don’t have time.” 

He frowned. 

“No,” he shook his head. “No, we didn’t get enough time before, but we should now, we…” 

“We will,” she reached out and took his hands. “Eventually. But not yet. You’ve gotten old, old man, but not old enough. You’re not supposed to be here yet. You still have a lot to do. You have people who need you, people who love you. They really, really love you, Dad. You need to go back for them. You’ve been here long enough.” 

Don’t leave me.

He looked up, looking for where your voice was coming from. Sarah just smiled. 

“She needs you,” she said. “And you need her.” 

She was right. He could feel that in every inch of him. He wanted to be next to you, wanted the life that he could have with you that had been so close when he’d left Jackson that morning. Just you and him and your girls. He wanted it so much it hurt. But how could he leave his daughter? His baby girl, the first baby girl he’d held, the first one he’d failed. How could he leave her again?

“Baby girl, I love them, too but I can’t just leave you here alone…” 

She smiled gently. 

“I’m not alone, Dad. And it’s OK if I’m not your whole world anymore,” she gave his leg a squeeze. “It’s OK if you have another purpose. I want you to be happy. Her, Ellie, Savvy… they make you happy. They’re your purpose now. You deserve that. Go be happy. I’ll be here when you’re done. We’ll have time then, too. I promise.” 

Just stay. 

“Go be with them, Dad,” she said. “Go be happy. We’ll be together when it’s time.” 

Just come back to me.

“I love you so much, Sarah,” he said, reaching out and holding her face in his hand. “So, so much.” 

Please. 

“I know,” she smiled. “And I love you too.” 

There was a wet spot on his cheek but he wasn’t crying. He frowned, touching his skin there, a tear clinging to his finger when he pulled it away. The place he was glowed brighter. Sarah’s face was somehow further away though neither of them had moved. He could feel himself fading from here, going back to where he was before. Part of him hurt with that, clinging to Sarah so hard that it seemed as though he was going to leave that part of him behind. But the rest of him was bringing him back, desperate to get to you, be beside you. That’s where he was supposed to be. He knew that now. He was always supposed to live. He was always supposed to flinch. He was always supposed to find you. 

“I’ll see you around,” she said. “Take care of yourself. Take care of them. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

He didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.

Everything hurt. 

It was sudden and sharp, the place where he was abruptly dark and cold. He wasn’t sure he could move much, every part of him impossibly heavy. But he forced his eyes open, at least. He was flat on his back and in a bed. It took him a moment to realize where, but the fact that there was medical equipment near his head narrowed it down. He heard a soft, sleepy sound and forced himself to lift his head enough to look for it. It didn’t take him long to find you there, head resting near his waist. He smiled to himself. Part of him was just relieved that he hadn’t dreamed you coming back to him, relieved that you’d want anything to do with him at all now. 

He forced his arm to move, the limb unnaturally clunky, every motion pulling and tugging on damaged skin but he didn’t really care. He rested a hand on your head, smoothing your hair down, thumb brushing against your forehead. You startled and jerked awake, sitting up quickly and blinking sleep from your eyes. His hand fell to your arm when you did and looked around for a moment before your eyes fell on him, the glow of the moon on the snow illuminating your face in the dark. You frowned for a moment, your brows knitting together. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Joel managed, his voice dry and cracking. 

“Joel!” You scrambled to your feet, taking his hand and clinging to it as you did. “You’re here, you’re alive, you’re…” 

“I’m alright, baby,” he said gently. You sank slowly onto the bed at his waist, clutching onto his hand. “You OK?” 

“I’m OK,” you nodded quickly, your voice wet. “Tommy’s OK, Ellie’s OK, we’re all OK. I was so afraid, Joel. I was so afraid. I thought you were gone, I thought I lost you…” 

“I know,” he winced as he reached the hand you weren’t latched onto over to cup your face. “I’m so sorry, baby. Wasn’t tryin’ to go anywhere…” 

You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles before holding his arm to your chest, clinging to it like a child does to a security blanket. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked, looking him up an down. “I can go wake up a doctor and…” 

“M’fine sweetheart,” he said, brushing a thumb over the arch of your cheekbone. “Don’t… don’t go anywhere, need you close. Just…” He did his best to shift himself so he wasn’t in the middle of the bed, wincing as he did. “Just be here. Let me hold you, OK?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you…” 

“You won’t,” he said gently. “Need to feel you. Just stay with me, baby. Please.” 

You sniffed but nodded before you moved gingerly to slip into bed beside him. You lay your head gently on his chest and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. It took a moment but he felt you relax against him, body molding to his own. He turned his head enough to brush his lips against your forehead. 

“I can’t lose you, Joel,” you said softly. “I can’t, I need you to stay.” 

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered, holding you as close as he could, everywhere your body met his a welcome distraction from the pain. “Not going anywhere.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: Yeah, sorry, I can't bring myself to kill Joel lol I love him too much, I need to let him have all the beautiful things he deserves to have.

Thank you so so much for being so patient with this chapter. I promise, I didn't intend to leave you hanging for weeks on end and I feel so bad that I did. Thank you for still reading and for being here. I feel like I've messed up a lot on how I've handled this fic lately - between not understanding how many folks didn't know the TLOU2 stuff and not giving proper warning and then posting that last chapter and not having this one lined up and ready to go - so thank you for not ditching me and this fic. It really does mean so much that you spend your time here with these characters.

Thank you again ❤️ Love you!

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