#SORRY THE SMUT WILL COME IN LIKE 4 MORE CHAPTERS OR SOMETHING WERE JUST REALLY TRYING TO MAKE IT GOOD OK

[kylorengarbagedump]

Playing Soldier: Chapter 3

Read on AO3. Part 2 here. Part 4 here.

Summary: You really wish Tavington would stop saying things that make you want to pass out since you're literally already about to pass out from thirst.

Words: 7000

Warnings: Extremely questionable medical practices

Characters: William Tavington x Reader

A/N: Co-written with @bastillia. <3

Okay so now this thing has umm at least SEVEN chapters? We're so sorry but we're not. (I am partially sorry that I'm motivated to write again but it's for a fandom that's approximately 2 people big (including me and @bastillia) but if you're here, thank you so much. We're just honestly enjoying writing this story so much and telling the tale of two bitchy cunts. It's the best! We love you <3

Your only attempt to escape that day occurred when you awoke, still tightened around the Butcher’s belly. Like an animal waking into a trap, you jerked back, your fists flying into his chest, and he grunted, hooking your bonds with one finger and tugging them back down.

Wincing, you hissed an admission of your error and settled into the seat again. The sun, just starting to crest over the horizon into the pinkening sky, blinded you. With a groan, you turned your face away. A lance receded from your skull as you pressed your brow and eyes against Tavington’s back, making him your stalwart shield against the dawn’s assault.

If you’d awoken sore yesterday, today you woke as an abscess, oozing ache and misery. A second heartbeat had grown in your temples and your tongue scraped your palate, dry as a cat’s.

You could do this. You would do this.

“Good morning, Colonel,” you mumbled against him. When he didn't respond, you forced yourself to huff. “What, did you get up on the wrong side of the horse?”

Still nothing. Shrugging him off, you pressed your cheek to his shoulder blades and looked behind you, meeting the eyes of the man you knew as Lieutenant Shaw. The moment he caught your gaze, he glanced away.

You raised a brow, twisting toward him. He was a stout, ruddy-cheeked man, older than Tavington, his blonde hair tied back in a scruffy queue. His lips were chewed raw, knuckles whitening around his reins as you studied him, until his horse began to gnaw the bit. His foot twitched anxiously in its stirrup.

“Good day,” you murmured to him.

Shaw’s attention darted sideways at you, checking that you’d actually addressed him. When he realized you had, he cleared his throat and stared forward.

“Lieutenant Shaw, isn’t it?”

He stiffened on his horse, which now started to toss its head. He glanced at you again. You supplied him with as earnest a smile as possible.

“How was your evening, Lieutenant? Is your ride going well?” When Tavington’s shoulders tensed, you found yourself unable to stop. “And is your Colonel always such a bastard, or is he just bad with women?”

“I, er—ma’am—“

“Shaw,” Tavington said.

Shaw straightened. “Sir.”

“Do not engage the prisoner.”

“Yes, sir.” His gaze fixed straight ahead.

You frowned. Well, that was unfair.

As you sat in silence, Shaw continued to argue with his mount, each of them bracing against the other as he tried in vain to get the animal to settle. You rolled your eyes.

“Relax,” you said. “Soften your elbows.”

Tavington’s head whipped to the side just a fraction. Relenting, you took it for the warning it was, and turned your head away from Shaw to rest the other cheek. Shaw’s horse quieted behind you.

On the colonel’s other side, Lieutenant Edwards rode a few paces behind. A washed out, willowy man, he wavered atop his horse like a reed. At the edge of your periphery, your eyes half closed, you saw him raise a small item to his mouth that glinted in the sun. You turned, meeting his eyes. Edwards flinched, topping it and stashing it beneath a saddlebag.

Before you could even seek his attention, he tucked his heels into his horse and trotted ahead, avoiding you like a nosy relative. That typically wouldn’t bother you, but the worse you felt, the greater the desire to publicly sulk became. Certainly, your captor could attempt to deprive you of every small joy you had available to you—you’d simply try to deprive him of his sanity.

“Am I bothering you, Colonel?” you asked. “Are you growing tired of the sound of my voice?” Tavington said nothing, but his chin tilted toward the sky, which was almost as good as an admission from him.

“You know, if we changed things up, I could probably speak more quietly. You might not even hear me.” When only hoofbeats answered you, you continued, “Why don’t you just let me ride with Shaw?”

“Absolutely not.”

You grinned, a sick delight popping in your chest that you’d gotten a reply out of him. “Why not?” you asked. “You must be tired of having me hang onto you. The lieutenant there seemed perfectly capable of handling a conversation.”

Shaw, for his part, joined Edwards ahead of you, apparently not wanting to be included in said conversation.

“The lieutenant isn’t as experienced in dealing with duplicitous agitators.”

“Ah, yes,” you said. “You demonstrated your experience in dealing with them the first time we met.”

“I believe I did,” he replied. “Though unfortunately, none of the others are alive to attest to it.”

You set your jaw, remembering the split throats and spewed brains of the men you’d shared the tent with. Considering you’d only escaped with burns, perhaps you had managed to stumble into some luck. You wondered what would’ve happened that night if Tavington’s subordinates hadn’t been around to rein him in. You wondered how well those reins were holding now.

“Where are the rest of your men?” you asked, not expecting an answer. “If you’re a colonel, you must have command of at least a hundred.”

“Four,” he said casually. “Hundred.”

“Isn’t carting me along taking away from time you could have with them?” Against your will, there was a hint of genuine curiosity in your voice. “You could be murdering so many more innocent civilians.”

You received no response, apparently having exhausted the last scrap of curiosity he was willing to humor. That didn’t stop you.

“Burning so many more towns?”

Nothing.

“Raping so many more women?”

You felt his ribs compress in a sigh, but he remained silent.

“Quite the trail of bodies you’ve laid,” you continued, affecting awe. “Obviously, it begs the question of when an attempt might be made on my own.”

“I would not deign to make an attempt on your body,” he growled, drawing another triumphant smirk from you, “even were it the last bloody carcass not rotting into the dirt.”

But hearing the words an attempt on your body leave his mouth, even in the negative, sent a thrill through you. You frowned at yourself. Apparently, sleep had failed to restore the portion of you that could respond reasonably to cruelty.

“Dear me, but you are a gentleman. You must have come to be called The Butcher on account of such gallantry.”

Tavington said nothing.

“So how is your time spent, then? Kissing babies? Petting bunnies?”

The horse’s stride trudged steadily on.

“Abandoning your regiment to chase injured women around the countryside?” You furrowed your brow. “I certainly can’t be that important. Neither can my father, for that matter.”

“Your attempts at trickery are losing their polish.”

You grumbled. “I’m not—there’s no trickery.”

You really just didn’t want to think about how many bodies he’d made attempts on or how often these attempts were made nowadays or what it might be like if he made an attempt on your body and—

A slight exhale, almost like a laugh. “Ask yourself if you would have approached a camp of four hundred, girl.”

Well. He had a point there. You supposed that if his intention had been to wrangle you into submission and gather all the glory for your capture himself, then he’d gone about it exactly the right way. It was strange, though, his willingness to construct such a small operation based on the little correspondence he’d received. For whatever reason, being the victor in any situation, no matter how small, was important enough for him to send his legion on their own for half a week.

You wrote that in your mind’s journal, too.

“Girl,” you said, pressing your forehead into him as a particularly strong pulse of pain knocked your skull. “What happened to my name? I know you know it.”

“Your behavior is more befitting that of a girl.”

You ignored him. “How do you know my name, Colonel? I can’t say I remember introducing myself.”

Tavington paused. “Don’t you?” he said, savoring the words like a secret. “Ah, no. It was your sister who gave you away.” And then, with a sardonic glee, “Grace, wasn’t it?”

The mention of your sister’s name iced your blood. You now felt your pulse over each inch of your flesh, like your skin had come alive with rage.

“Was that it?” he said. “Grace?”

“Don’t you dare speak her name,” you said, low enough only he could hear.

“No?” he replied. “If I apologize, will you offer me grace?”

You growled, bashing your head into his spine, receiving a retribution of hard muscle and bone. It rang agony to your toes, and you collapsed against him, hissing a curse. The stress on your body had won out. You’d have to let him have this round.

The sun continued to crawl up the sky and nibble at the shade offered by Tavington’s body. With your face turned away, you sought respite beneath the carved ridge of his shoulder blade, cradling your eyes there. Even with the small relief of darkness, your skull pounded harder, harder, until it threatened to shatter.

Perhaps around late morning—you’d lost any reliable sense of time passing—the nausea began. It struck in hideous, syncopated beats between the horse’s stride and your own weakening pulse, tipping the world on its axis. At some point, a particularly violent wave pitched you in a riptide. You clutched the front of Tavington’s coat, clamping your jaw closed against the dry-heave that thrashed your insides. It was only then that you realized you were shaking. If he noticed, he made no indication.

“Colonel Tavington.” Shaw’s voice shimmered through your consciousness from somewhere far off.

Tavington straightened, sending a red dagger of sunlight through one of your eyelids. You nestled further into him, breathing against vertigo.

“The, er—the pack horse is tying up, sir. And Edwards’ horse has been stumbling.”

“Speak freely, Shaw.” Tavington’s voice rippled around you like you were underwater.

“With respect, sir.” Shaw sounded altogether too sharp and too distant. The water around you shifted. “I don’t think they’ll make it to Dorchester, let alone Charleston.”

Your mind, adrift in fragments, grasped at the word as it passed. Dorchester. Your father’s voice swam around those syllables somewhere fathoms deep in your memory. But that would mean you’d ridden… miles. Too many miles.

Why couldn’t you recall how many miles?

It was hard to say what happened next. More words rippled, in shapes like camp and Dorchester and dawn. Everything was far away. Except Tavington. He was close—an anchor. Perhaps the water itself, holding you. Letting you drift gently into the deep, into the dark. No. Lifting you. Lifting your arms. Dropping them.

Then he wasn’t there. And you were drenched in vicious sunlight.

“No—” you heard yourself mewl, and your hands came up to shield your eyes. The world swung on a hinge.

A firm hand braced under your sternum, another at the small of your back. They straightened you upright, then guided you sideways. So far sideways that you should have been falling.

But you didn’t fall. You were floating again. Borne by a pair of strong arms, curled against a chest. Cracking your eyes open, you saw Tavington’s face above you, haloed in light.

Then you hit the ground.

You groaned, curling onto your side, hiding your face from the unyielding undulation of the world around you. Beyond it somewhere, the redcoats gave and heeded orders that washed over your consciousness like milk. There was movement, the grabbing and stashing and placing of things. You focused on taking a breath in and letting one out. In, then out again.

Another breath, another, deep into your belly and shuddering out through your nose. It almost, you thought, had a steadying effect—almost, because you were still trembling and still nauseous and still dizzy and your arms were beginning to hurt in ways they hadn't before.

Just as you felt relief from the sun's assault, a splash of cold water smacked your face.

You heaved, shooting up to sit, your tongue chasing the water like a kitten scrambling to catch prey. Even the meager splash was restorative. Drops moistened your mouth, trickles soothing the pulse in your scalp.

Panting, you realized you'd been primally scavenging water off of your own face. Eyes peeling open, you looked up to meet William Tavington’s gaze, his canteen in one hand and a couple lengths of rope in the other.

If you had ever been concerned about decorum, at least a small part of you would've been embarrassed. Thankfully, you'd never made decorum a priority once in your life.

He dropped to a crouch and grabbed your wrists, untying the knots there.

“Not even a greeting?” you mumbled, grateful the water had at least restored enough of your mind to grant you spite.

Your hands now free, he moved to jerk one behind your back and paused. You winced—there was a new, hot ache cutting its way up your forearms and he happened to be holding one with more force than necessary.

Whatever the ache was, Tavington was making it worse. He turned your wrist around in examination, still clutching the rope.

“Edwards,” he said. “Shaw.”

Both men responded affirmatively, turning toward him.

“Was a lancet packed?” he asked. “Or a fleam?”

You frowned. Did he want to cut you? Lifting your head, you glanced between your wrists. The burns looked like sunsets—a hot, yellow center pouring red rays across your skin. A blood malady.

Deep in the starved recesses of your mind, something came grinding to life, and drove you to clamber to your knees.

Tavington eyed you warily, his grip flexing around your arms. You met his stare, your own replete with resolve.

“I don’t need bloodletting,” you said. “I can—” Dizziness swarmed you, greyed your vision. Clenching your fists, you used Tavington’s hold on you to steady yourself. “I can slow this down, just let me—”

“Shaw?” he called, ignoring you.

“No, sir,” came Shaw’s reply. “Will a pocket knife do?”

Tavington’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “It will have to. Bring it here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Stop,” you pleaded, panic streaking through you. In this state, you weren’t sure you could withstand any blood loss at all, let alone as much as his cruel hands were bound to purloin from you. “Please, if you just—do you know what a sumac tree looks like?”

The men ignored you. Shaw passed the blade to Tavington.

“Hold her other arm,” Tavington commanded. Shaw moved to your side, his grip replacing the colonel’s.

“Do you?” you implored, your gaze searching between the two men. Shaw refused to meet your eyes. Tavington’s attention remained on your wrist, bringing the knife to it. “This won’t—you can’t—you’re no physician, you have no idea what you’re doing.”

The blade brushed against tender, swollen skin. You tried to flinch away, but he held you fast. Something like an incredulous laugh burst past your lips.

“On your way back to England.” Your voice shook, and you closed your eyes. “Just remember that I could have spared both our fates.”

You sank back onto your heels, turned your face to the sun, and thought of home. Of Grace. Long seconds ticked past as you waited for the knife’s bite, for the slow drain of consciousness that was sure to follow. But neither came.

Opening your eyes, you found Tavington staring daggers into you, the blade barely kissing your flesh. The hope you had just discarded into the very pits of your soul leapt alive. You rocked forward to level your stare with his.

“If you bleed me, Butcher,” you whispered, “I will die.”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. If your heart currently possessed any more strength than a fledgling sparrow, it might have taken flight. It was harrowing to recognize that your death was likely something he would cherish orchestrating. It was even more harrowing to recognize that a part of you was nothing less than thrilled by that.

“Colonel, sir.” Shaw’s hesitant address snapped the air like twine. You both looked at him. “If—if I may speak freely, the physicians in Charleston are much better equipped for this, and it’s at most two more days’ ride—”

“That’s too long,” you said, then looked back to Tavington. “I can make something that will help. I just need a sumac tree, or alder, or—”

Tavington snorted. “You want a tree—”

“God’s blood, will you just listen?” You wrenched your arm away from Shaw. Tavington dropped the knife to snare both of your wrists like you were an obstinate child. Sagging, you summoned every ounce of genuine earnestness you could. “Please.”

Tavington rolled his tongue in his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Shaw,” he finally said. “Dismissed.”

“Sir.”

The lieutenant departed like a fire had sprung beneath his balls, rejoining Edwards in the small camp. You swallowed, steeling yourself with what little alloy remained within you. The blue in Tavington’s eyes burned stark-white.

“Let go.” You jerked your hands back, but he refused to budge. “Let me stand.”

He stared into you, chest rising as he allowed his fury to gutter. With an exhale, his grip loosened, and you slipped free with a grunt. Shaking, you pushed yourself to your feet, stabilizing yourself with hands on your thighs, blinking as the sky spun to your feet and the grass fogged out. You sucked in a breath and growled against your body’s desire to pass out.

“Bring the knife,” you said, stumbling forward. When he stood, you heard him draw closer—too close—and you whirled on him, ignoring how the movement split him into five different irritated Tavingtons. “Don’t. Touch me.”

“Do relax.” He grasped your upper arm, turning you back around.

You glared at him and flailed your shoulder, knowing it wouldn't shake him off but needing him to know you didn't like it anyway.

In this moment, all flutters of desire had died like moths fried by torchlight. You were sick of being treated like an idiot dog, sick of your head pounding and your stomach eating you from the inside out, sick of being surrounded by these godforsaken ignorant men. You charged into the woods with one focus: finding something to help purge your blood and getting the British army’s most contemptible colonel to give you more than two inches of breadth between your bodies.

Said colonel was still clutching you as you went, but at least this time you were dragging him. It would have been much more pleasant to reach the shade of the woods without him there to ruin it, but at least the pounding in your skull had receded. You drew an inhale and cast about for something useful.

Immediately, you knelt to pluck wintergreen leaves from a patch at your feet. Tavington dropped your arm as you descended, electing to tower over you rather than join you. That should have been a relief, but then he stepped even closer, his shins nearly bracketing your hips.

Jaw clenched, you decided the only way to ignore him was to occupy your mind. From where you crouched, your eyes flicked over various plants that sparked recognition, from toxic to medicinal, but there were only a few you knew of that could siphon fever from the blood. Most would have to be dried, or infused in oil, or various other preparations that your fogged mind couldn’t conjure but would certainly not be viable in your current situation anyway.

An alder bark salve would be ideal, as the trees were abundant. Perhaps its properties would function in a poultice instead, given your lack of materials and time. You didn’t relish the idea of improvisation with your mind so muddled, but you had little other choice.

“Is the gibbet still your preference?” Tavington said above you, startling you out of your thoughts. “I believe I’ve now a strong case for burning you at the stake.”

You grit your teeth, shoving your harvested leaves into your trouser pockets before you stood. When you did, the world capsized again, forcing you to brace against the nearest trunk and take several deep breaths.

“How predictably barbaric of you,” you said without turning to face him. “Let me be burned for possessing knowledge long before I ever live in fear of it.”

“Yes,” he replied, “though I somehow doubt the knowledge you possess to be of any particular value, given your predilection for failure.”

“I’m sure that’s what your general says to you every time you offer input,” you grumbled, not caring if he heard you, and began a wobbly path toward an alder tree some yards off.

You smoothed your hand down the bark as you reached it, partly to make certain you’d identified it correctly, but mostly for the chance to finally touch something that wasn’t a detestable irritant of a man. Despite your efforts in the latter, he approached behind you, close enough that you could feel the heat of him. Sighing, you held your hand by your shoulder, palm upwards.

“I need the knife,” you said.

“No.”

You wheeled on him, only for your face to be an inch from his, your breasts brushing his chest, and you stumbled, back against the tree. Sweat beaded on your neck, at your throat, and you stiffened, narrowing your eyes. Tavington’s head tilted up, and he closed the distance again, seemingly unperturbed by your discomfort.

You frowned. “Fine.” You slipped to the side, your chest scraping his coat as you escaped the cage he had created with his body. He simply watched you move. You gestured to the tree, then crossed your arms. “Harvest the inner bark.”

Tavington stared at you.

You scoffed. “Go on, then.”

“Is this what colonials consider a meal?” He waved between your pockets and the alder.

“Why?” you asked. “Would that disgust you?”

You took a wintergreen leaf out of your pocket and popped it into your mouth. Despite yourself, you nearly lost focus as its oil coated your tongue, spreading a cool, bitter relief across it. Tavington looked at you like you’d just bitten the head off of a live rat in front of him.

“It’s medicine.” You rolled your eyes. “Don’t worry, there will be no question that I died of starvation.”

Tavington looked away, seeming rather nauseated, to consider the tree. He flipped the pocket knife into his palm. Then, with stony reluctance, looked at you again, waiting.

You shook your head with a small huff, turning toward the trunk.

“Score the bark vertically,” you said, tracing a line with your finger to indicate your meaning. “Here.”

His jaw flexed, but he followed your instruction, carving a line down the bark exactly as you’d directed. It was then that you realized, with a small lurch in your belly, that he had removed his gloves. The sinews in his hand flexed as he guided the knife along the bark, then pried its edge free.

“Now here,” you pointed down another invisible line a few inches beside the first score. “And then horizontally here and here, to connect both scores.”

Again, you mapped the blade’s path with your finger. And again, he retraced it with utter precision. You swallowed, the movement sticking in the arid pillar of your throat.

“Right,” you said. “Good. Now the outer bark should peel away.”

Tavington regarded you, lip half-curled, as if hell were closer beneath him than this. Then he jammed the blade beneath the bark like it had just stolen his coin purse.

“No, not like—”

Your hand shot out before you could stop it, your fingers wrapping over his fist. The connection crackled and you jerked back like you’d touched lightning. You’d felt his bare skin before, when he’d tied you up yesterday, but the warmth of him, the hard, strong bone of his knuckles—it startled you.

Jaw set, he shoved the knife at you and stepped back, head nodding toward the tree. You shook off whatever had just possessed you and cleared your throat, starting to carve away.

The cork now stripped, the soft, coppery inner bark of the alder glowed underneath your knife. Your hand trembled, your grip barely strong enough to keep the blade steady. But the bark was supple, familiar, and it peeled away like pats of butter into your hand. You slipped the slivers into your pockets, too.

Tavington watched you, silent, his eyes following your fingers as they worked. The attention felt curious, unfamiliar—you supposed he was considering the avenues he’d need to take to justifiably kill you once you were both in Charleston.

You would be so relieved when you got there. Whatever needed to be done to secure Grace’s freedom would be light work compared to spending another minute in the company of William Tavington. To think that a man with as much education as he knew so little, that his military desired to possess that which they did not understand. You almost laughed.

“You know,” you mused. “For as hard as you people fight to keep this land under your heel, you really don’t know much about it.” You grabbed a couple more slices and stuffed them away, holding out the knife and your arm to him. “All right. Drag me back, Colonel.”

Tavington studied you for a moment, the frustration on his face abated. He plucked the knife from your hand and tugged your arm toward him and behind your back, pushing you out of the woods.

When you reached camp, he released you, and you tripped forward into the grass. Shaking, you pushed yourself to your hands and knees and rolled to sit, waiting for the world to cease its imitation of a spinning top. You glanced over at the lieutenants, who both stared between you and Tavington with uncertainty. Shaw hovered above the rock he was sitting on, as if he’d been about to move to help you, but sat down when Tavington leered at him.

You snorted. You might have preferred the presence of Nathaniel Jones to these fools. The Lord rest his soul, of course.

Tavington sat with his men. They’d prepared rations while you’d both been gone, not that it mattered, since they certainly had no intention to share it with you. As he sat, a flicker of exhaustion crossed his face, lines creasing his forehead where you hadn’t seen them before. You wondered if he’d slept at all.

The way his shoulders dropped as he took a bite of his meal—the utterly human display of his relief—almost comforted you with the knowledge that he actually was a man.

Almost, since, again, they were definitely not sharing the food with you and were probably betting on how long you’d last under neglect until you dropped dead or maybe lost your mind and tried to kill them all.

You turned your focus on the components you gathered, pulling them out of your pocket and grabbing a couple rocks to mash them together with.

As weak as you felt, it was soothing to go through the motions of grinding up the leaves and bark. With each pass of one stone over the other, you felt your frustration bleeding out into the pulp between. The oil from the wintergreen helped break apart the slivers of tender bark, though they weren’t combining nearly as well as you’d hoped. You needed to hydrate the mixture more.

“Edwards,” you called, as he was seated closest to you. “May I borrow your canteen, please?”

He turned, regarding you as if you were a cockroach he’d just found crawling on his sleeve. Then he picked up his canteen and moved it to his other side, away from you, turning back toward his fellow soldiers. You saw Tavington’s gaze flick to you, then to Edwards, then back to his meal, inscrutable as ever.

All of the anger you’d just tempered struck hot within you again, the flint of exhaustion colliding with the steel of spite. You stuck out your chin at the back of Edwards’ head.

“Your flask, then.”

Tavington’s head shot up. Edwards went stiff. After a pause, he addressed his colonel.

“I haven’t a clue what she’s talking about, sir.”

“Left front saddlebag,” you said, turning your attention back to crushing your half-combined attempt at a poultice. “Underneath it.”

In the corner of your vision, you watched Tavington slowly rise, then walk over to where Edwards’ horse was grazing.

With his colonel’s back turned, Edwards peered around to narrow his pallid eyes at you. Lifting your head, you matched his glare, daring him to retaliate. For the very first time, you felt a flicker of gratitude for having The Butcher’s protection. No matter how begrudgingly it might be given.

As Tavington returned, Edwards stood, his attention following the silver flash in his colonel’s hand. “Colonel, sir, I do apologize, but I didn’t expect this assignment to be particularly demanding,” he said. “It’s a prisoner transport.”

“Ah,” Tavington replied. “And that prisoner clearly has no intention of attempting to undermine you.” He stepped forward, brandishing the flask like a prize. “Lieutenant, here is a demonstrable lack of experience in dealing with duplicitous agitators.” His gaze fell, briefly, to you, then returned to Edwards. “Perhaps, when we arrive at Charleston, an evaluation of your rank is in order.”

Keeping your concentration on your concoction, you smirked. As you continued to grind, the flask landed near your rocks. You glanced up. Tavington wasn’t looking at you, but Edwards was.

“Sir, please—”

“Disobedience isn’t rewarded, Lieutenant,” Tavington said. “Consider that next time you smuggle your precious whiskey.”

You took that as permission and grabbed the flask. The moment your hands landed on it, every British officer followed your movement. You rolled your shoulders, frowning.

"I’m not going to drink it,” you said. And then, with all of the sweetness you did not possess, “Are there are any bandages available?” Nobody moved. With all of the bitterness you did possess, “Please?”

Tavington let out a slow breath. “Shaw.” He tipped his head toward where the supplies had been piled. The lieutenant scrambled to obey. Edwards sank back down where he’d been seated, a slump to his shoulders.

You glanced up at Tavington, who had evidently decided to stay and supervise you. He was looking down at your work with a curious crease in his brow. Returning your own attention to it, you unscrewed the flask’s top and tipped a dash of whiskey into the concave divot where you’d been grinding the poultice. With a few more passes of your makeshift pestle, the extra liquid finally allowed you to macerate the pulp into a workable consistency. You huffed, drawing the back of your hand across your forehead and sitting back on your heels.

When you looked up again, Shaw and Edwards had both moved farther off. Tavington was still beside you, now holding out a roll of white fabric. After a moment of hesitation, glancing between him and his offering, you took it.

After managing some form of grumbled acknowledgement, you looked back down to your workstation. Tavington continued to watch you in silence.

You began by tearing two lengths of cloth approximately the size of your burns. Then you scooped the poultice into your hands and slathered it across each piece. Grabbing the flask again, you poured a bit more whiskey onto each strip, ensuring they were fully wet. Then you took a shaking breath, flask in hand, and looked down at your burns.

They glistened like mangled fruit. Whatever vile humor they were leaking needed to be removed before you applied the poultices. At least, that’s what you assumed. You hadn’t had many chances in your life to observe a proper physician at work, but one tended to see a fair few injuries when brought up in a farmstead village.

In one case, you’d accidentally spilled your father’s gin across a swollen gash in your finger from a slipped knife. The pain had been akin to flaying your own skin, but the wound had healed superbly afterward. You’d sworn by rinsing your wounds with gin ever since, even if the other women in your village had deemed you a lunatic for it.

A happy coincidence, you supposed, that you had something gin-adjacent at hand now. A less happy coincidence that these were the worst wounds you’d ever had the misfortune to test your hypothesis on.

Drawing one more deep breath, you yanked your shirt collar up between your teeth for the second time. Then you bit down hard, and drenched your wrist in fire.

Your vision went white, every muscle seizing around your bones. A scream broke loose from your chest, catching in a web of linen before a violent dry-heave doubled you over. You braced on the back of your forearm, trying to remember how to breathe.

You couldn’t pass out. Not yet.

Hauling yourself upright, you blinked hard against the snow blanketing your vision, shook your head to quiet the church bell pealing between your ears. Gradually, the world regained its edges.

Tavington’s voice cut through the noise. “We’ll need to prepare a bloody asylum instead of a prison.”

With a grunt, you forced your focus back to the task at hand, ignoring him. Before cowardice could make its nest within you, you splashed the other wrist. Agony split that arm in equal measure.

Another ragged cry tore free, and your mind made another attempt to flee the excruciating confines of your body. Your will proved a strong enough tether, though, and despite your body’s protest, you remained conscious. The flask slipped from your grip, dropping to the ground.

You weren’t finished yet. You had to stay focused.

Grabbing a strip of poultice, you laid it over your raw wrist and pressed it down. Air spasmed through your lungs, pain clung to your skin like acid mist. Though your hand shook violently, you picked up the roll of remaining bandage and attempted to wrap your medicine in place. Then you dropped it.

You grunted, reached for it and dropped it again, coordination having resigned from your hands long ago. Shaking, you curled your fingers underneath it, and it tumbled like a spool of thread to the ground. Breath hissed between your chattering teeth, stifling a whimper.

You reached for it a fourth time, only for Tavington to squat beside you and snatch it away. Your sound of protest had barely been born before he was drawing the cloth around your wrist, looping it with firm, even pressure, tying it in place. You blinked down at his hands as they worked, considering that this was perhaps some strange dream and you’d passed out after all.

“The other one,” he demanded. You could do nothing but oblige.

Before your arm was even half raised, Tavington clutched it, held it steady as he pressed the second poultice to your wrist just as you’d done with the first. You winced, but refused to flinch. He wound the bandage around your burn, so deft you might’ve thought he’d done this hundreds of times before. Perhaps it was all the practice he’d had binding you with rope.

Pain still seethed—it made sense, since you’d essentially just entombed both of your wounds in cloth iron maidens—but with the pressure of the bandages, it had died to an angry, raw pulse.

Tavington dropped you and the cloth, observing as you heaved in air and tried to normalize the rhythm of your breath.

“This,” he said, with some degree of disbelief, “is medicine.”

Swallowing a groan, you nodded, wincing as another wave of pain rolled through up your shoulders. “It is.”

Tavington raised a brow. “Medicine is civilized,” he said. “This is not.”

Whether it was due to the thrill of pain or his ignorance, you weren’t sure—but you laughed.

“Coming from a country that apparently can’t grow anything but bloodthirsty, boorish men, I’m not surprised your idea of medicine begins and ends with a blade.”

Tavington cocked his head. “Indeed, your primitive tree tonic speaks volumes to your sophistication.”

You looked at him, grinning through a shudder that rocked you with your heartbeat. “Am I not the embodiment of elegance?” you said, gesturing to your filthy clothes and trembling, reddened arms. “Perhaps if you’d had my upbringing, you’d have some semblance of a genteel and courteous manner.”

His face was impassive. “That grows from the land, does it?”

You laughed again, sniffling. It would’ve felt good to snipe at him again. After all, he was the reason you were in this position to begin with, the person responsible for tying you up, arresting Grace, and hunting your father altogether. But pain had robbed you of wit. When you went to speak, not a single drop of venom rose to your tongue.

“Why not?” you sighed, laid flat on your back. The grass cushioned and cooled you. “This land grows many things.”

“Including its own share of bloodthirsty boors,” he replied, insistent.

“Perhaps those are ubiquitous, Colonel.” Your eyes slid shut, the world throbbing around you. “Perhaps every village has their own breed of unruly dog.” You smiled to yourself. “Some even get pampered with rank.”

“Only colonials have stooped to the level of dogs.” His voice was laden with a bitterness that intrigued you. “Lower, in fact. At least a dog knows where to place its loyalty.”

“Mm. I don’t know about that.”

“You’d liken all men to dogs.”

“You don’t agree? We both eat. We both bleed. We both shit. We both fuck.” You paused, embarrassed you’d said the word, but shrugged it off. “Similar enough to me.”

Silence settled between you for a moment—the wind rustled by your ears, banished the sweat on your forehead. You hoped you could lie there for the next year.

Beside you somewhere, Tavington shifted. Even without looking, you could sense him studying you. “You must speak from experience, then.”

If you hadn’t been so tired, you might have balked at the question. Was he trying to imply something about your sexual behavior again? Your brow pinched together.

”Taking an interest in my personal life, are you?”

He scoffed. “I am likening you to a dog.”

Your forehead relaxed in relief—a much less complex statement. You hummed in agreement. Yes, you were a dog, at least as long as you remained in his company.

The wind rushed past your face again. Wrists aching, head spinning, stomach a crevice in your torso. How long would this man lord over you as if you were about to bolt somewhere unknown when you could hardly tolerate the thought of breathing?

“Don’t flatter yourself with the impression of my attention.”

You didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. Pain had finally sapped the last of your resources. All you did was nod, agreeing with him again in hopes he’d leave you alone.

His shadow hovered over you for what seemed like minutes before turning and walking back toward the camp. The sun grazed your face, reddened your eyes, and you groaned, covering your face with your hands. If you had the ability, you would’ve gotten up to find shade.

Footsteps returned, bringing dread with them. You simply knew it was Tavington, but couldn’t begin to wonder or even care about what he wanted now. When his shadow loomed, you didn’t move.

“Up,” he said.

You frowned. Your hands fell from your face and you squinted through exhaustion. He towered, expression flat, a canteen in one of his gloved hands. Glancing away, you looked around for evidence of irreality. Certainly you were dreaming.

“Sit up.” He raised his palm as if to urge you aloft.

With quaking arms, you pushed yourself onto your elbows, but as you tried to sit forward, you collapsed back to the ground in a heap. You pursed your lips, avoiding his gaze. Your own weakness humiliated you. Clenching your teeth, you managed to curl to one side and drag yourself awkwardly into a kneeling position, hunched like a sack of grain at his feet.

Tavington exhaled a long sigh, and then stepped forward. He screwed open the canteen and sought your gaze, your acknowledgement. The promise of water felt more like a blessing—there was no way you could say no. You swayed in anticipation of it. His palm pressed under your chin, fingers flexing around each side to steady you. Holding his gaze, you felt smooth wood prod your lips. Your jaw fell open.

The moment he tipped the canteen forward, water coated your tongue, sluiced down your throat, and you moaned, drinking hungrily. It soothed your gnawing stomach, flushed your dry mouth, soaked every bit from your teeth to your toes in glorious, holy moisture. Your eyes fluttered closed, and the more you drank, the needier you became. Energy building, you hunched forward and gripped the canteen with two hands, wrapping your lips around it.

Another groan, your throat and head bobbing as you swallowed, so voracious that it leaked from the corners of your mouth. It refreshed you, and you whimpered in relief as it trickled down your neck to your collarbone. Water wet your shirt.

Just as you thought you surely drank the ocean, Tavington pulled the canteen away, and you coughed in shock as you were ripped to reality again. Gasping, you gazed up at him, your cheeks hot. His nostrils flared. Blackness had swallowed the blue in his eyes.

Tongue rolling in his mouth, he thumbed your jaw, collecting some of the spilt water and traced it back over your parted lips. A strong, leather finger scraped itself clean on your teeth. You shivered. You swallowed.

“I doubt Edwards will appreciate you wasting his water,” he said, almost conspiratorially, releasing your face to close the canteen. In your lap, he dropped a large bullet of bread. “Do try not to waste his food.”

Chin tilting up, he spun on his heel and returned to his men.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 25] || [Chapter Pre-27] || [Chapter 27]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2k~ cw: smut, penetration, oral sex (m!receiving), gay sex (anal) Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we're almost THERE

Chapter 26: Smart mouth

If you thought last time you guys did this was too much, you weren’t ready for this afternoon.

Had you had all your braincells intact, you would’ve pondered HOW John would end up adding to this, if it was even possible to add an extra person…

But they weren’t intact. You were utterly fucked out, stars prickling at the corner of your eyes…

You were lying on your tummy, legs spread apart to either side of the bed, Kyle steadily snapping his hips against your ass, the sound of his cock plunging into you wet and slick echoing in the room, not even concealed by your muffled moans.

Your head was craned back, your neck straining a bit in that position to allow for Johnny’s cock to plunge deep into your mouth, muffling any of the cries of pleasuring coming from you.

It didn’t help that Johnny was not controlling himself, his cock hammering into your mouth with wild abandon.

But that must have had something to do with the fact Simon was fucking him from behind, a hand gripping Johnny around the hip, the other holding your hair to make sure he stayed buried in your mouth.

The corners of your mouth hurt, Johnny’s shaft so impossibly thick, just like the rest of him, that you couldn’t help but whine and whimper at the stretch it forced your mouth to perform.

And Kyle with his damn moans and sighs behind you, his lengthy cock plunging so deep inside you, his thighs nearly permanently glued to your ass more often than not.

“Tha’s it… Wanted to ‘ave a fucking smart mouth, did ya?” Simon taunts who you know is Johnny, but frankly he feels like he could be speaking to any of you really.

“I-I… I’m sorry L.T.!” Johnny whines, his eyes rolling back, his back pressed firmly against Simon’s chest, head lolling against the taller man’s shoulder.

“Don’t apologise to me. Apologise to the pretty thing that’s got you all the way down their throat.” Simon replies, his tone bossy and authoritative.

“I-I’m sorry, bonnie… A-Ah…” Johnny got interrupted halfway as Simon’s hand bobbed your head back and forth, causing some audible sounds of you choking.

“Fuck… Looks so good…” Kyle huffed behind you, bent halfway over your body, panting right against your shoulder blade.

All he could see from that angle was your nose burrowed to Johnny’s pelvis, Simon’s hand in your hair, tears in your eyes…

Simon’s hand left your hair for a moment, allowing you to swallow the build up of saliva in your mouth and to breathe better through your nose, instead caressing Kyle’s cheek, his thumb grazing his bottom lip.

“You’re all doin’ so good f’r me…” Simon tells you, Kyle’s eyes closing at the praise, his lips parting to suck Simon’s thumb. “Good…”

Your eyes watch the entire scene, or… they would, if you weren’t already 2 orgasms in, too fucked out to think of anything at all beyond the fact this all feels too good.

-

You find yourself stirring awake by a sudden lack of warmth and groggily look around to notice Kyle leaving the warm pile of bodies on your bed, revealing your back to the cold air of the bedroom.

Grunting softly, you're shushed by a kiss on the crown of your head and an arm wrapping around you tighter, rubbing your bare back.

You’re hugging onto Simon, who has an arm around you. Kyle had been behind you this whole time, spooning you, and Johnny had been behind him.

“He's going to let John in,” Simon tells you as he keeps rubbing your back, gentle kisses pressed to the top of your head.

Johnny is sleeping soundly, just like you had been, his breathing steady, not quite a snore, but loud enough.

“John?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes.

“Yeah, he texted me about an hour ago, asking if we wanted dinner.” Simon tells you.

“Dinner?” Johnny murmurs in a half-awake state.

“Bloody ‘ell, did’ya wake up at the mention of food?’ Simon quips with a soft rumble of a laugh against your ear. It sounds like he's purring…

Johnny scoots closer, taking up the space that Kyle had been in until now, his lips beginning to press kisses to your bare shoulder.

“I'm so sore…” You murmur, lamenting how sluggish you feel, not to mention your cotton mouth.

After your session, you had all taken turns showering and Simon had made sure to get you all to drink water, but that did little to help your sorry state.

“At least ye don't have a bum knee.” Johnny quips behind you.

“And don't pull a muscle while sitting down,” Simon remarks.

“Or fuck up your back while having a one night stand.” John announces when he shows up at the bedroom door, Kyle right behind him.

Besides Simon, John’s the only one that's dressed, a pair of dark blue jeans, a white undershirt and a brown sweater on top, his hair slightly disheveled from having taken off the beanie he usually wears as a civvy.

“Hi…!” You greet him lazily.

“Hi, darling.” John replies as he approaches the bed.

He drops a kiss to Simon’s head, a peck on the lips for you, and runs a hand over Johnny’s messy mohawk.

“I see you lot had some fun, hm?” John teases before crouching by the bedside.

“‘f course we did, sir.” Johnny jokes with what you know is a sly little smirk on his lips.

“How about you lot get dressed and get some food, hm?” He quipped and ran a hand through your hair as you remained warm sandwiched between Johnny and Simon. “I brought Indian.”

“Ooh, butter chicken?!” Johnny remarks and immediately bounces up, trampling over you and Simon to get off the bed, causing you both to groan.

“I just said I'm SORE!” You scold Johnny as he starts gathering his clothes, which Kyle is also doing for himself.

“Clearly not sore enough! Guess I didn't fuck yer throat hard enough if your mouth is still yapping.” Johnny retorts, causing you to gasp.

“Johnny-” Simon replies as he slowly shifts and stands up as if already threatening him with another fucking to get the attitude out of him again.

“Tough talk for someone that had a cock up the ass 3 hours ago.” Kyle quips from beside him.

“HAUD YER YEESHT! You’re just bitter Simon didn’t fuck ye!” Johnny retorts as he nudges Kyle, the two of them picking up on their usual bickering.

“I wouldn't count that as fucking, more like putting you in your place.” Simon replies swiftly, joining Kyle in tag teaming Johnny.

“My PLACE?!” Johnny gasps.

John takes a seat in the spot Simon had been occupying, letting you curl up to him instead as the lads descend into the madness that is their usual bickering.

John’s arms pull you up onto his lap, wrapping you in a warm hug, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both gaze at the loud men in your bedroom.

“I'm sorry you have to deal with them.” He tells you playfully.

“And I'm sorry that you've been dealing with them for so long.” You retort.

You both share a glance and a chuckle.

"You know if you ever want a break from them... I've got my own place..." John suggests with narrowed eyes and a smile, puffy cheeks lightly pink.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[bratzkoo]

barely yours | mingyu pt. 2

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 5.4k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 (PG-13 for this chapter only) Possible Warnings: mingyu is an idiot, AGAIN. written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): ​ @ca-clover, @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear , @whoa-jo , @movingalongfrs

find other parts here! pt. 1 | pt.2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

Y/N felt her carefully constructed facade begin to crumble as she looked into Seungcheol's eyes. The lead vocalist and leader of HHT stood before her, his usually melodic voice now tight with concern and something that sounded like barely contained frustration.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We need to talk about Mingyu."

She glanced around the hallway, acutely aware of the curious glances from passing employees. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in the middle of her father's company.

"Not here," she hissed, grabbing Seungcheol's arm and pulling him towards an empty conference room. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, as if she could physically block out the complications that were piling up around her.

"What's going on?" Seungcheol demanded as soon as they were alone. "Mingyu showed up at our dorm this morning looking like he'd been hit by a truck. He's refusing to talk to anyone, and we have that radio interview in a few hours."

Y/N closed her eyes, guilt washing over her. She'd been so focused on protecting herself that she hadn't considered how her decision might affect the band. "I... we ended things," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol's eyebrows shot up. "Ended things? I didn't realize there were 'things' to end. I thought you two were just..."

"Fooling around?" Y/N supplied bitterly. "Yeah, well, it turns out feelings don't always follow the rules we set for them."

Understanding dawned on Seungcheol's face, followed quickly by sympathy. "You fell for him."

It wasn't a question, but Y/N nodded anyway. "I did. And when I tried to talk to him about it, he made it clear that he didn't want anything more. So I ended it."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he shared with Mingyu when he was stressed. "Shit, Y/N. This is... complicated."

"You think I don't know that?" Y/N snapped, then immediately regretted her tone. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't know what to do. And now my father wants me to take a more active role in managing you guys, and I-"

"Wait, what?" Seungcheol interrupted. "You're going to be our manager?"

Y/N shook her head. "Not exactly. He wants me to be more involved in the management side of things. Apparently, I 'understand your demographic' better than the older executives."

Seungcheol let out a low whistle. "Talk about adding fuel to the fire. How are you going to manage that with... everything else going on?"

"I have no idea," Y/N admitted, slumping into one of the conference room chairs. "I never wanted this, Cheol. Any of it. I was happy being the party girl, the CEO's wild child. It was easier."

Seungcheol took the seat next to her, his expression softening. "Maybe it was easier, but was it really what you wanted? Because the Y/N I know is smart, talented, and more than capable of handling whatever comes her way."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat at his words. It had been a long time since someone had seen her as more than just a pretty face or a potential scandal. "I'm scared," she whispered.

Seungcheol reached out, taking her hand in his. "It's okay to be scared. But you're not alone in this, Y/N. The band... we care about you. Both you and Mingyu."

At the mention of Mingyu's name, Y/N felt her heart clench. "How is he, really?"

Seungcheol sighed. "He's hurting. I've never seen him like this before. Whatever was between you two... I don't think it was as casual for him as he let on."

Y/N's head snapped up, hope and confusion warring in her chest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Seungcheol said carefully, "that maybe you two need to have an actual conversation. One where you both be honest about your feelings."

"I tried that," Y/N protested. "He laughed it off."

"And you immediately ended things instead of pushing the issue," Seungcheol pointed out gently. "Look, I'm not taking sides here. You're both my friends. But I think there's more to this story than either of you are seeing right now."

Y/N wanted to argue, to defend her decision. But a small part of her wondered if Seungcheol might be right. Had she been too hasty? Too afraid of rejection to really hear what Mingyu was saying – or not saying?

Before she could respond, Seungcheol's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and grimaced. "That's our manager. I need to go wrangle the guys for this interview." He stood, then hesitated. "Y/N, promise me you'll think about what I said. And maybe... maybe come to our studio session tomorrow? We could use your input on some of the new tracks."

Y/N nodded, not trusting herself to speak. As Seungcheol reached the door, she found her voice. "Cheol? Thank you. For everything."

He flashed her a warm smile. "That's what friends are for. Just... don't let fear make your decisions for you, okay?"

As the door closed behind him, Y/N leaned back in her chair, her mind whirling. She'd thought ending things with Mingyu would simplify her life, but it seemed to have done the exact opposite. Now she had a broken heart, a new job she wasn't sure she wanted, and the possibility that she'd misunderstood everything about her relationship with Mingyu.

Her phone buzzed, and she looked down to see a message from her father:

"Meeting with HHT's team tomorrow at 10 AM. Be there."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Tomorrow, she would have to face Mingyu, the band, and her new responsibilities all at once. She wasn't sure if she was ready, but she knew she didn't have a choice.

As she left the conference room and made her way out of the building, Y/N made a decision. She would go to the studio session tomorrow, as Seungcheol had suggested. She would face her fears head-on.

And maybe, just maybe, she would find the courage to have that honest conversation with Mingyu. Because if there was even a chance that he felt the same way...

Well, that was a risk she might just be willing to take.

-

Y/N stood outside the studio door, her hand hovering over the handle. She could hear muffled voices and the faint strains of music from inside. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her blazer and steeled herself. Today, she wasn't Hwang Y/N, the party girl with a broken heart. She was Hwang Y/N, the professional, here to do a job.

With that thought firmly in mind, she pushed open the door.

The chatter inside the studio immediately died down as she entered. Five pairs of eyes turned to her, but she only allowed herself to focus on one – Seungcheol's. He gave her a small, encouraging nod.

"Good morning, everyone," Y/N said, proud of how steady her voice sounded. "I hope you don't mind, but I'll be sitting in on your session today. My father thinks it would be beneficial for me to have a more hands-on role in the creative process."

She deliberately avoided looking at Mingyu, who she could sense was staring at her intently from his position by the guitar rack.

Vernon was the first to break the awkward silence. "Cool, always good to have a fresh pair of ears. We're working on the bridge for the title track. Want to hear what we've got so far?"

Y/N nodded gratefully, taking a seat next to the sound engineer. As the music started playing, she allowed herself to get lost in the melody, analyzing the composition and arrangement. This, at least, was familiar territory. She'd always had a good ear for music, even if she'd never pursued it professionally.

As the song progressed, she found herself nodding along, impressed by the intricate harmonies and the way Seungcheol's powerful vocals blended with the instrumental. But something was off in the bridge – the guitar riff didn't quite mesh with the rest of the arrangement.

When the song ended, Y/N cleared her throat. "That was great, guys. Really solid work. But I think the bridge needs some tweaking. The guitar part feels a bit... disjointed."

She saw Mingyu stiffen out of the corner of her eye, but she kept her gaze fixed on Seungcheol.

"What do you suggest?" Wonwoo asked, leaning forward with interest.

Y/N bit her lip, considering. "Maybe if we simplified the riff a bit? Something that complements Seungcheol's vocals rather than competing with them."

There was a moment of silence, and then Mingyu spoke for the first time. "And what would you know about composing guitar parts?"

His tone was cold, almost challenging. Y/N finally allowed herself to look at him, keeping her expression neutral despite the way her heart raced at the sight of him. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes, but still unfairly handsome.

"I may not be a guitarist," Y/N replied evenly, "but I know what sounds good. And right now, that bridge doesn't flow with the rest of the song."

Mingyu opened his mouth to argue, but Seungcheol cut him off. "She's right, Gyu. I was thinking the same thing, but I couldn't put my finger on why it wasn't working. Let's try simplifying it."

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might argue further. But then he shrugged, turning back to his guitar. "Fine. Let's hear your ideas then, Y/N."

The way he said her name, like it left a bitter taste in his mouth, made Y/N wince internally. But she pushed through, working with the band to refine the bridge. To her surprise, once they got past the initial awkwardness, the creative process flowed smoothly. Even Mingyu, despite his obvious reluctance, contributed valuable ideas.

As the hours passed, Y/N found herself relaxing into her role. She offered suggestions on vocal arrangements, helped fine-tune lyrics, and even hummed out a melody idea that Vernon quickly turned into a catchy hook for their b-side track.

It wasn't until their manager called for a lunch break that the comfortable bubble of creativity burst. As the others filed out of the studio, chatting about where to grab food, Y/N hung back, gathering her notes. She was so focused on avoiding being alone with Mingyu that she didn't notice Seungcheol had stayed behind until he spoke.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Y/N looked up, offering him a small smile. "No, it wasn't. You guys are incredibly talented. It's... it's an honor to work with you like this."

Seungcheol's expression softened. "You're good at this, Y/N. Really good. Have you ever thought about pursuing music production?"

She shook her head. "Not really. It was always just a hobby. Besides, my father has other plans for me."

"Maybe it's time to make your own plans," Seungcheol suggested gently. Then, after a pause, "Mingyu was watching you, you know. When you weren't looking."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to shrug nonchalantly. "We have to work together now. It's bound to be awkward for a while."

Seungcheol looked like he wanted to say more, but just then, the studio door opened and Mingyu walked in, stopping short when he saw them.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Forgot my phone."

The tension in the room was palpable as Mingyu retrieved his phone from beside his guitar. Y/N kept her eyes fixed on her notes, hyper-aware of his every movement.

As he turned to leave, Mingyu paused. "The bridge sounds better now," he said stiffly, not quite looking at Y/N. "Good call."

Before she could respond, he was gone, the door closing firmly behind him.

Y/N let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "This is going to be harder than I thought," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol squeezed her shoulder supportively. "Give it time. And maybe... maybe try talking to him? Outside of work?"

Y/N shook her head firmly. "No. It's better this way. Clean break, professional distance. It's the only way this can work."

As they left the studio to join the others for lunch, Y/N repeated those words in her head like a mantra. Professional distance. It was the right thing to do.

So why did it feel so wrong? -

The atmosphere in the practice room was thick with tension, the usual easy banter replaced by an uncomfortable silence broken only by the sound of instruments being tuned. Seungcheol watched as Mingyu stole yet another glance at Y/N, who was studiously avoiding eye contact as she reviewed some paperwork in the corner. The leader of HHT sighed inwardly, knowing that something had to give.

For weeks now, Seungcheol had noticed the change in dynamics between Mingyu and Y/N. The playful flirtation that had once been a constant source of amusement (and occasional exasperation) for the band had vanished, replaced by awkward silences and stilted interactions. It was more than just personal drama – it was affecting the band's chemistry, and as the leader, Seungcheol knew he had to do something.

"Alright, let's take it from the top," Seungcheol called out, hoping that focusing on the music might alleviate some of the tension.

As they launched into their latest single, Seungcheol couldn't help but notice how Mingyu's usually flawless guitar work seemed off. The tall guitarist kept missing cues, his rhythm slightly out of sync with the rest of the band. Every time this happened, Mingyu's eyes would dart to Y/N, as if seeking her reaction, only to quickly look away when he realized she wasn't even watching.

Y/N, for her part, seemed determined to focus solely on her work. She sat in the corner, ostensibly reviewing marketing reports, but Seungcheol noticed how her pen hadn't moved on the page for the past ten minutes. Every now and then, when she thought no one was looking, her gaze would flicker to Mingyu, a mixture of longing and hurt in her eyes.

After an hour of subpar practice, Seungcheol called for a break. As the other members dispersed, grabbing water bottles and checking their phones, he pulled Vernon and Wonwoo aside.

"We need to talk about the Mingyu-Y/N situation," he said in a low voice, guiding them to a quiet corner of the room.

Vernon nodded, relief evident on his face. "Thank god someone said it. The tension is killing me. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells every time they're in the same room."

Wonwoo frowned, his usually calm demeanor showing signs of strain. "It's affecting our performance too. Did you hear Mingyu during that bridge? I've never heard him miss those notes before."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he'd picked up when stressed. "I know. That's why we need to do something. I have an idea, but I'm going to need your help."

As Seungcheol outlined his plan, Vernon's eyes widened in disbelief while Wonwoo's narrowed in thought.

"Fake dating?" Vernon whispered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Mingyu wasn't within earshot. "Isn't that a bit… I don't know, dramatic?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But subtle hasn't been working. Those two are too stubborn for their own good. Sometimes you need to fight fire with fire."

Wonwoo nodded slowly. "It could work. But are you sure Y/N will agree to it?"

"Leave Y/N to me," Seungcheol said, a determined glint in his eye. "For now, I need you two to help set the stage. Can I count on you?"

Both Vernon and Wonwoo nodded, though Vernon still looked a bit uncertain. As they broke apart, returning to their instruments, none of them noticed Mingyu watching them with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Later that week, Y/N was working late in her office, the soft glow of her desk lamp the only light in the room. She rubbed her eyes, tired from staring at spreadsheets all day. As she reached for her coffee mug, a soft knock on the door made her jump.

"Come in," she called, straightening up in her chair.

Seungcheol poked his head in, an unusually serious expression on his face. "Got a minute?"

Y/N nodded, gesturing for him to sit. "What's up, Cheol? Is everything okay with the band?"

Seungcheol settled into the chair across from her, his usually relaxed posture tense. "Yes and no. The band is fine, but… well, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach. She had a feeling she knew where this was going. "If this is about Mingyu-"

"It is," Seungcheol cut in gently. "But not in the way you might think. I have a… proposition for you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "I'm listening."

Seungcheol took a deep breath. "Look, we've all noticed the tension between you two. It's affecting the band, and frankly, I hate seeing you both so miserable."

"I'm not-" Y/N started to protest, but Seungcheol held up a hand.

"Y/N, come on. We've known each other too long for that. You're not happy, and neither is Mingyu. But you're both too stubborn to do anything about it."

Y/N slumped back in her chair, the fight going out of her. "What am I supposed to do, Cheol? He made it clear he doesn't want anything serious. I can't keep putting myself out there just to get hurt again."

Seungcheol leaned forward, his eyes intense. "What if we gave Mingyu a taste of his own medicine? What if… we pretended to date?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "What? Cheol, that's crazy. Why would we-"

"To make Mingyu jealous," Seungcheol interrupted. "Look, I've known Mingyu for years. He's stubborn and proud, but he cares about you. A lot. I think seeing you with someone else might be the push he needs to confront his feelings."

Y/N bit her lip, considering. The idea was tempting, but… "But what about the band? And my position? Wouldn't it complicate things even more?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But it could also solve our Mingyu problem. Plus, it might help deflect some of the pressure from your dad about taking things seriously. Dating the lead singer of HHT? That's a power move in the industry."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at that. "You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"I care about both of you," Seungcheol said sincerely. "And I hate seeing you two dance around each other like this. So, what do you say? Want to be my fake girlfriend?"

After a moment of hesitation, Y/N nodded. "Okay. Let's do it. But we need to set some ground rules…"

Over the next few days, Seungcheol and Y/N put their plan into action. They started small - sitting closer during meetings, sharing inside jokes, leaving together after practice. The other band members, clued in by Seungcheol, played along perfectly.

Vernon, ever the actor, would waggle his eyebrows suggestively whenever he saw them together. Wonwoo, more subtle in his approach, would casually mention how much time Seungcheol and Y/N had been spending together lately.

Mingyu, however, was oblivious to the plan. At first, he barely seemed to notice the change in dynamics. He was too caught up in his own thoughts, alternating between trying to figure out what had gone wrong with Y/N and convincing himself he didn't care.

But as the days passed, little things started to catch his attention. The way Seungcheol's hand would linger on Y/N's back as they walked into a room. The inside jokes they seemed to share, leaving the rest of the group puzzled. The fact that Y/N was suddenly at every practice session, even when she didn't need to be.

During one particularly grueling practice, Mingyu fumbled a guitar riff he'd played perfectly a hundred times before. His eyes were fixed on Y/N, who was laughing at something Seungcheol had whispered in her ear. The sound of her laughter, once a source of joy for Mingyu, now felt like a knife twisting in his gut.

"Dude, you okay?" Vernon asked, concern evident in his voice.

Mingyu shook his head, trying to clear it. "Yeah, just… distracted."

Vernon followed Mingyu's gaze to where Seungcheol and Y/N were huddled together, looking at something on Y/N's phone. "They've been spending a lot of time together lately, huh?" he said, his tone carefully neutral.

Mingyu grunted noncommittally, but his grip on his guitar tightened. "I guess. Not that it's any of my business."

Vernon raised an eyebrow at that but didn't push further. As they resumed practice, he exchanged a meaningful look with Wonwoo. Their plan was working, perhaps a little too well.

As the days turned into weeks, Mingyu's mood grew increasingly sour. He snapped at staff members over minor mistakes, isolated himself during breaks, and threw himself into his music with an almost manic intensity. His songwriting, always emotionally charged, took on a darker, more melancholic tone.

One evening, after a particularly tense practice session, Wonwoo found Mingyu alone in the studio, furiously scribbling in his notebook.

"New song?" Wonwoo asked, settling into a chair nearby.

Mingyu nodded without looking up. "Yeah. It's… it's about letting go of something you never really had."

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up at that. "Sounds heavy. Want to talk about it?"

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might open up. But then he shook his head, slamming the notebook shut. "It's nothing. Just… exploring some new themes."

As Mingyu stood to leave, Wonwoo called out, "You know, if something's bothering you, you can talk to us. We're not just your bandmates, we're your friends."

Mingyu paused at the door, his back to Wonwoo. "I know," he said softly. "But some things… some things you have to figure out on your own."

With that, he was gone, leaving Wonwoo to wonder if perhaps their plan was causing more harm than good.

The situation finally came to a head at a company party celebrating HHT's latest album going platinum. The event was in full swing, the cream of the K-pop industry mingling in a high-end Seoul nightclub.

Mingyu arrived late, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. He'd spent hours agonizing over whether to attend, knowing Y/N would be there. In the end, his pride (and a strongly worded text from their manager) had won out.

He froze in the doorway as he spotted Y/N and Seungcheol on the dance floor. Y/N was wearing a stunning red dress that hugged her curves, her hair swept up to reveal the graceful line of her neck. Seungcheol, looking handsome in a well-fitted suit, had his hand on her waist as they moved in perfect sync to the music.

Something snapped inside Mingyu. He stormed over to the bar, downing a shot of soju before grabbing another. As he watched Y/N throw her head back in laughter at something Seungcheol said, a series of memories flashed through Mingyu's mind:

Y/N's shy smile the first time they met at a company event. The electricity he felt the first time they kissed, hidden away in a dark corner of a after-party. Late nights spent talking about their dreams and fears, sharing parts of themselves they'd never shown anyone else. The way Y/N's eyes lit up when she listened to his new songs, always the first to offer genuine feedback and encouragement.

And then, more recent memories: The hurt in Y/N's eyes when he'd laughed off her suggestion of something more serious. The growing distance between them, a chasm he hadn't known how to bridge. The ache he felt every time he saw her now, an ache he'd tried to ignore, to rationalize away as mere physical attraction.

But seeing her now, radiant and happy in another man's arms, Mingyu could no longer deny the truth. He was in love with Y/N. Truly, madly, deeply, irrevocably in love. And he might have just lost her to his best friend.

The realization hit him like a physical blow. The glass in Mingyu's hand shattered, startling nearby partygoers. Blood dripped from his palm, but he barely noticed. All he could see was Y/N, beautiful and radiant, looking at Seungcheol with an affection that used to be reserved for him.

As staff rushed to tend to his injured hand, Mingyu's eyes met Y/N's across the room. The concern in her gaze was almost more than he could bear. In that moment, Mingyu knew he had to fight for her, to tell her how he really felt, before it was too late.

But first, he had some serious groveling to do. And maybe, just maybe, a chance to turn his pain into the most heartfelt song he'd ever written.

As he allowed himself to be led away for medical attention, Mingyu's mind was already racing with lyrics, a melody forming that he hoped would convey everything he'd been too afraid to say. He'd messed up, pushed away the best thing in his life out of fear and stubbornness. But if there was even a chance that Y/N still cared for him, he'd move heaven and earth to win her back.

Little did Mingyu know, across the room, Y/N was fighting every instinct to run to him, her heart breaking at the pain evident in his eyes. As Seungcheol squeezed her hand reassuringly, Y/N wondered if their plan had worked a little too well. -

Y/N went home to her apartment. She sat curled up on her couch, a glass of wine in hand, trying to process the events of the evening. The company party had not gone as planned – the image of Mingyu's pain-filled eyes as he clutched his bleeding hand was seared into her memory.

Y/N's phone buzzed for the umpteenth time. Another message from Seungcheol:

"Are you sure you're okay? I can come over if you need to talk."

She sighed, typing out a quick reply:

"I'm fine. Just need some time to think. Talk tomorrow?"

As she hit send, a loud, insistent knocking startled her. Y/N glanced at the clock – 1:37 AM. Who could it be at this hour?

The knocking continued, more urgently now. "Y/N! Y/N, I know you're in there! Please… please open up."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She'd recognize that voice anywhere, even slurred as it was now. Mingyu.

Hesitantly, she made her way to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it to find Mingyu leaning heavily against the doorframe, his usually impeccable appearance in disarray. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, hair a mess, and the unmistakable smell of soju wafted from him.

"Mingyu?" Y/N said, shock evident in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

Mingyu's eyes, glassy from alcohol, focused on her face. A lopsided smile spread across his features. "Y/N… beautiful Y/N. I had to see you. Had to tell you…"

He stumbled forward, nearly falling. Y/N instinctively reached out to steady him, the familiar warmth of his body sending a jolt through her.

"Woah, easy there," she said, guiding him inside and closing the door. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You shouldn't be here."

Mingyu allowed himself to be led to the couch, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh. "I know, I know. 'm not supposed to be here. But I couldn't… couldn't stop thinking about you. About us."

Y/N perched on the edge of the coffee table, facing him. Despite her better judgment, concern overtook her resolve to keep her distance. "Mingyu, what's going on? Are you okay? Your hand–"

Mingyu waved dismissively, wincing slightly at the movement. His palm was wrapped in a white bandage, a few spots of red seeping through. "It's nothing. Doesn't hurt. Not like…" he trailed off, his eyes growing sad.

"Not like what?" Y/N prompted gently.

"Not like seeing you with him," Mingyu finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N felt her heart clench. This was exactly the reaction their fake dating scheme was meant to provoke, but seeing Mingyu in actual pain made her question the wisdom of their plan.

"Mingyu, I–"

"No, let me… let me say this," Mingyu interrupted, sitting up straighter and fixing Y/N with an intense gaze. "I messed up, Y/N. I messed up so bad. I thought… I thought I could handle seeing you with someone else. Thought it didn't matter. But it does. It matters so much."

He reached out, taking Y/N's hands in his. She knew she should pull away, but found herself frozen, captivated by the raw emotion in Mingyu's eyes.

"I miss you," Mingyu continued, his thumbs tracing circles on her palms. "I miss your laugh, your smile. The way you scrunch up your nose when you're concentrating. I miss the way you make me feel – like I'm more than just a idol, more than just a pretty face or a good voice. With you, I'm just… me."

Y/N felt tears pricking at her eyes. This was everything she had wanted to hear for so long, but the circumstances were all wrong. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."

Mingyu shook his head vehemently, then immediately looked like he regretted the motion. "No, no. I'm drunk, yes. But I know… I know what I feel. What I've always felt, even if I was too scared to admit it."

He slid off the couch, landing on his knees in front of Y/N. In any other situation, it might have been comical, but the desperation in his eyes killed any urge to laugh.

"Please, Y/N," Mingyu pleaded, still clutching her hands. "Please give me another chance. Break up with Seungcheol. He's… he's my friend, but he's not right for you. Not like I am. We're… we're meant to be together. I see that now."

Y/N felt panic rising in her chest. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Mingyu wasn't supposed to show up at her door, drunk and emotional, laying his heart bare. She wasn't prepared for this.

"Mingyu, listen to me," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "You're not thinking clearly. We can't… I can't…"

But Mingyu wasn't listening. His eyes had taken on a glassy, unfocused look. "I'll do better this time, I promise. I'll… I'll write you songs. Take you on real dates. Show the whole world how much you mean to me. Just please… please don't leave me."

His impassioned speech was interrupted by a wide yawn. The adrenaline and alcohol seemed to be wearing off, leaving exhaustion in their wake.

"I love you, Y/N," Mingyu mumbled, his head drooping. "I love you so much. Please… please just…"

And with that, Mingyu slumped forward, his head coming to rest in Y/N's lap. Within seconds, soft snores filled the air.

Y/N sat frozen, her mind reeling. Mingyu's words echoed in her head, everything she had longed to hear for months. But was it real? Or just the ramblings of a drunk, jealous man?

Gently, she extricated herself from under Mingyu, laying him out on the couch and covering him with a throw blanket. She allowed herself a moment to study his face, peaceful in sleep, before retreating to her bedroom.

As she lay in bed, sleep eluding her, Y/N's thoughts were a jumbled mess. The fake dating plan had worked – perhaps too well. Mingyu had confessed his feelings, but at what cost? And what would happen in the morning, when he woke up in her apartment with a killer hangover and the memory of his whiskey-soaked confessions?

One thing was clear: the game they'd been playing had just gotten a lot more complicated. And Y/N had a sinking feeling that someone's heart was bound to get broken in the process – quite possibly her own.

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 4. the carnival

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel wants to take things further after you both come clean about your feelings, but some new information comes to light about your past that causes a problem.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, boatloads of sexual tension, some sexual situations but no smut

WC: 6.5K

A/N: I'm dropping this chapter and running

Series Masterlist

You awoke the next morning wrapped in a comforting warmth, but not the warmth you were used to from your blankets. You couldn't put your finger on it, but something was different. Why did it seem so much brighter behind your eyelids? Were you in the living room? Then you felt rather than heard a low rumble, the sound reverberating under your palm and through your cheek. A distinct deep, throaty, masculine noise that you never heard before.

Finally, curiosity got the best of you and you opened one eye. Your hand was resting on top of Joel's chest, your leg was intertwined with his. You should have jumped away immediately, but you didn't. You just stared with your one eye still open, watching as your hand rose and fell rhythmically with his breath.

Then you felt his hands on you. One on your hip, the other on your arm and that did it. You sat up quickly. Too quickly. You wrenched yourself out of his grasp and leapt up from the couch, the sudden movement causing him to stir and rub his eyes. Backing up to put more space between you, you wrapped your arms around yourself protectively, staring at him as he sat up and looked around.

"Shit. We must've fell asleep waitin' for the rain to stop," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep and you felt an unexpected jolt between your legs.

He really should have felt guilty. He was a fucking liar. He knew what he was doing last night, but you didn't. You fell asleep all on your own. Innocent and soft and sweet. But he intentionally tucked you into his side, purposefully wrapped his arms around you. Because he was greedy and desperate. Ever since that day, the attempted robbery, he ached to hold you so badly that it was painful. So he was selfish and took what he wanted, but he could see now by the look in your eye that it wasn't the right thing to do. Shit.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, standing up and ignoring the cracking in his lower back. "Nothin' happened," he added, and you blinked rapidly at that, stunned.

"Okay," you managed to whisper, eyes wide as you tried to grapple with the situation. You stared at each other for a moment, each searching the other's eyes, neither of you acknowledging the obvious shift.

Suddenly, an alarm went off on his phone. He broke eye contact to fish it out of his pocket and turned it off, checking the time.

"Gotta get ready for work," he said regrettably, wanting so badly to stay with you, to talk about what happened. He needed to know why. Why were you so distant? Why didn't you want to let him in? He was beginning to second guess the looks you've given him, the color in your cheeks when he flirts with you. Did he completely misread things? Maybe you just weren't attracted to him the same way he was to you. Fuck, he hoped that wasn't it.

"Don't overthink it," he told you curtly, trying to backpedal now that the morning wasn't going at all like he had hoped. "We just fell asleep, that's all."

"Okay," you said again, a little more clearer now.

He looked like he wanted to say more, but he glanced down at his watch and brushed past you to the door. He slipped his shoes on and swung the door open, but the. he paused, his fist tightening on the doorknob before looking back at you once more.

"See you at lunch."

With that, he closed the door behind him. You listened as his heavy footsteps trotted down the steps and then the click of the door unlocking down below. You had to hold yourself back from rushing to the window to watch him leave.

"Fuck!" you shouted out loud to yourself, all alone now in your tiny apartment. You crumpled to the ground and wrapped your arms around your knees, rocking back and forth while you tried not to cry.

You couldn't let this happen. You had to pull back. He didn't know it, but it's for the best. You were doing him a favor. But it was hard. It was so, so hard because for the first time maybe ever, you woke up in someone else's arms and you were happy. Your instinct was right. Avoiding Joel's touch for as long as possible was the right move, because now that you knew what it was like, you craved it. It's only been ten minutes and you already yearned for it again. You were weak. And the worst part was you were going to have to face him again in just a few hours, and you had no idea what you were going to do.

The diner was busy that morning. Maria asked you to clock in right away so you could help take some tables. You were relieved to have the distraction. It helped keep your mind off the time, to stop yourself from counting down the minutes until Joel's broad frame walked through the front door.

It was late in the morning when the rush finally died down and you were helping Betty clean all of the abandoned tables in the dining room. You lost count of how many bus tubs you filled up so far as you hoisted the latest one on your hip and made your way to the dish area in back. One of the other waitresses, Gina, gave you a sideways glance as you walked by. You smiled at her but she didn't return it. In fact, it almost felt like she was mad at you. You hardly spoke to Gina since you started. Your shifts didn't usually overlap. It was ridiculous to think she would be mad at you. But something was definitely off because another older waitress, Vicky, who was never very outgoing but never really gave you a hard time, either, glared and muttered something under her breath as you passed by her in the kitchen. You frowned and turned around, watching her shake her head and continue to mutter to herself as she made her way out into the dining room.

"Betty?" you said quietly when you found her alone behind the counter.

"What's up, sweetie?" she asked as she filled the coffee machine.

"Did I do something to offend anyone?"

She paused what she was doing and considered her response before setting the coffee down and glancing around.

"What makes you ask?"

"I'm probably just being paranoid but it feels like some of the waitresses here don't really like me for some reason," you said, then chuckled. "I sound crazy, I'm sorry."

"They're just jealous, hun. Don't let it bother you, they'll get over it," she whispered, then turned back to the coffee machine.

"Jealous? Of what?" you asked, completely taken aback. So it wasn't just all in your head.

"We live in a real small town, I know you ain't used to that but what people do 'round here never stays secret for long," she said, as if that somehow answered your question.

"What does that have to do with me?"

She smiled at you and gave you a knowing look, but you were still confused.

"Oh, c'mon. You don't gotta play coy with me. Connie was openin' up the boutique this mornin' and saw Joel leave your apartment."

All of the blood drained from your face.

"What?" you whispered in disbelief.

"Nothin' to be ashamed 'bout, sweetie. All the women 'round here either want him, or they want their daughters to have him. They're just ticked he's finally off the market, is all," she explained, walking past you to greet a customer, but you grabbed her elbow, making her swivel around in surprise.

"I'm not - we aren't - that's not at all what happened!" you stuttered, your face growing hot now.

"Sure, hun," she said with a wink, then turned on her heel to greet the man at the end of the counter, leaving you slack jawed and shocked.

"Oh my god," you whispered, turning away from the counter to hide your face. How could this day get any fucking worse?

You heard someone sit down at the counter and clear their throat, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You knew that sound already. When you turned around and met Joel's eyes, he frowned, sensing immediately that something was wrong.

"C'mon, you can't still be upset about earlier," he said as you approached, and you winced.

"It's not that," you murmured, glancing around and noticing a couple of the waitresses from across the dining room watching you and whispering. You felt your stomach clench with anxiety.

"Then what's wrong?"

You looked back at him again, your eyebrows pinched with worry.

"Someone saw you leave this morning and now the whole town thinks we're sleeping together," you said as quietly as you could, your eyes still flicking around the dining room, trying your best to make your interaction with him look as innocent as possible.

"Oh," he said, sitting back in his chair as he thought about what you said. He looked around and saw a couple of the waitresses giving you nasty looks and he sighed.

"I'm so sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I'll set people straight, I promise. Just gimme the rest of the day and I'll make it right."

You immediately felt bad when you saw the stress and exhaustion that appeared on his face.

"Don't - it's fine. You have more important things to worry about," you said, picking up a clean mug and filling it with coffee for him.

"You're important to me, too, y'know," he said softly.

"Joel-" you said, setting the coffee pot down and pinching the bridge of your nose. He cut you off.

"You don't gotta say anythin'," he said, swallowing his pride.

"It's just not a good time for... this," you said, your voice pained as you pointed between the two of you quickly, then dropping your hand so no one else would see.

The way he looked at you caused your chest to squeeze and you felt the tears burning in the backs of your eyes. You could see it written all over his face, although he tried to mask it, it was clear you hurt him.

"Can't we just be friends?" you finally asked.

"Yeah," he said quietly, then looked down at the menu. "That's - yeah, 'course we can."

And you thought your day couldn't get any worse.

Miraculously, after only a couple of weeks, the people in town seemed to move on from the rumor about you. You couldn't be sure if it was Betty or Joel or just the passage of time that did it, but the women in town stopped giving you nasty looks and you stopped hearing whispers after you walked by a table at work.

You knew it was for the best. You knew you were saving Joel from all your bullshit and that was the right thing to do, but selfishly you wished you could have him all to yourself. Was that so wrong? To just want something that was good and sweet, something that made you feel hopeful? Didn't you deserve that?

Joel stopped appearing outside of work as well. You found yourself looking for him all the time now. When you walked back home after work, when you were at the grocery store, everywhere you went you looked for him or Sarah, missing them both, but you never saw them. The town was so small, how the hell was it even possible?

At least he still came into the diner, but you got what you asked for. He stopped flirting with you and he treated you as a friend and nothing more when you waited on him. And even though you were the one who drew the line in the sand, you hated it.

It was your day off and you found yourself at the library picking up the book you had on hold for that month's book club selection. You were surprised you were still invited to the book club meeting after the rumor about you and Joel spread through town like wildfire, but you had a sneaking suspicion Hailey was the driving force behind your invite. You considered turning it down, but what would be the point in that? Then you'd really be all alone.

The library was peaceful. Sometimes when you felt especially lonely, you found a quiet corner when you stopped by to read, which is what you decided to do that day. There was something soothing about it, knowing people were nearby, but you also didn't feel forced to talk to anybody. That was, until you heard a young girl's soft, familiar voice heading in your direction. You heard her say your name, her voice hushed so as not to disturb the other patrons, and you dragged your eyes up from your book to give her a little smile.

"Sarah, hi," you said, standing up as she approached. And sure enough, Joel's towering frame trailed moments after her. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him stiffen but then force himself forward. Inwardly, you cringed at his reaction to seeing you, but you knew you had nobody to blame but yourself.

"What're you reading?" she asked, tilting her head to the side to try to read the title of the book left hanging limply in your hand.

"Oh, it's for a book club I'm in," you said, lifting it up to show her. She nodded and scanned the cover.

"Any good?"

"I just started it but so far, it's not too bad. I wouldn't have picked it for myself, but that's the cool thing about a book club. Sometimes you read things you wouldn't normally think you'd like," you said, glancing up at Joel standing behind her, giving him a polite smile. Sarah's eyes drifted between you and her dad, and she got a playful look in her eye.

"Will we see you at the carnival tonight?" she asked you, and you dropped your gaze from Joel back to her.

"Oh, yeah I heard about that," you told her, then lowered your voice when you saw an older woman glance up at you three angrily. "No, I wasn't planning on going." You considered it, but you weren't friendly enough yet with Hailey to join in with her friends and you felt funny going alone.

"Oh, come on! It's only one weekend a year, and the entire town goes. It's so much fun, you'll love it!" she said, bouncing on her feet and ignoring the dirty looks she was getting.

"Shh, babygirl, you're bein' too loud," Joel finally spoke up behind her. The deep, low tone he used reminded you of what he sounds like when he first wakes up in the morning, and you felt a familiar stirring below your waist at the sound.

"Uh, I don't know then, maybe," you finally relented, just to hopefully quiet her down.

"Dad usually takes me to the same spot for dinner every year, it's a fried chicken stand and the line is like, a mile long but the wait is so worth it. Do you wanna join us?"

"Sarah," Joel whispered warningly.

"What?" she whispered back, annoyed.

"If I go, I'll definitely find you, how's that sound?" you told her, hoping that would be enough to end the conversation. The awkwardness was just too much at this point. It wasn't her fault, she was just a kid.

"Promise?" she begged, big brown eyes all wide. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Promise," you assured her. She grinned then turned to Joel.

"I'm gonna go check out the DVDs," and before he could reply, she hurried away. If you didn't know any better, you would have thought she was intentionally trying to get the two of you alone.

His eyes trailed after her, his hands on his hips and his jaw ticked to the side as he struggled with what to say.

"Don't worry 'bout it, if you don't wanna go later."

"Oh... okay," you said, and he must have heard the uncertainty in your voice because he finally looked at you.

"Unless you want to, you're more than welcome to join us. Just didn't want you to feel like you had to," he explained, eyeing you up closely.

"She put up one hell of a case for it," you said with a smile.

"Yeah, she tends to do that," he said with that grin that made your knees weak, then dropped his gaze to the floor.

You were so stupid. Why did you push him away? Well, you knew why, but it still wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to either of you.

"Well, I should go," he said, still looking at the floor, racking his brain for something else to say to keep him near you, but he knew it would just cause him more pain in the long run.

You nodded and he finally looked up at you, holding your gaze for a moment before he forced himself to move. He only took a couple steps before you spoke.

"Fried chicken?"

He stopped and turned around in surprise before slowly nodding his head.

"Nothin' like it," he said. You furrowed your brow as if deep in thought.

"Maybe I'll come see what all the fuss is about," you told him. You knew you were sending him mixed signals, you knew it wasn't right, but you missed him. You missed the way he made you feel. Safe.

He let a slow smile spread across his face before he shrugged and pursed his lips.

"You won't regret it," he said with a wink that made your heart flutter.

Before you could think of anything to say, he disappeared down the row of books in search of Sarah.

It only took you the rest of the afternoon to figure out what you were going to wear and how to do your hair. And you didn't want to admit it, but it was the happiest you felt in a long time. You knew deep down that you shouldn't feed into this little crush you had, but what was the harm in having a little fun? It didn't have to mean anything. You could spend time with Joel as just friends. But every time you overthought your outfit you needed to remind yourself he is just a friend. This was not a date. The yellow dress you picked up from a second hand store that fell right above your knee was not necessarily a 'date' dress. It could pass as a casual dress. You definitely didn't choose it because you wanted to look good for him. It was hot out, and the dress kept you cooler than a T-shirt and shorts. That's all it was.

After you parked and paid for admission, you picked up a map at the entrance and scanned the fairgrounds, trying to pinpoint where you currently were in relation to the food stands. Sarah was right: the entire town seemed to be there. The place was packed as you made your way through the crowds, occasionally stopping to check out a vendor or watch someone win a prize at a game you most definitely wouldn't be any good at. When you started to smell sugar and fried food, you knew you must be close, so you began to pay closer attention to the booths, scanning for a place that advertised fried chicken.

It was easier to spot than you thought. The line really was a mile long. And the food smelled delicious. You slowed down so you could scan the crowd, trying to find them when you heard your name from behind. You turned with a smile to see Joel and Sarah already seated at a picnic table with half eaten food in front of them and Sarah waving you down. As you approached their table, Joel slid a plate of untouched chicken towards the empty spot next to him, hiding a smile behind his food as his eyes lingered a moment too long on your dress.

"How'd you know I would show up?" you asked him with a grin as you sat down, your mouth watering as you inhaled the delicious aroma.

"Lucky guess," he said as he bit into a chicken leg. You picked up a piece and took a bite, Sarah watching you for your reaction with bated breath. You moaned and nodded to her, still chewing, but giving her a thumbs up. She was right once again.

"Told ya," she said with a grin.

"Do you guys come here every year?" you asked, covering your mouth as you spoke while you chewed. She nodded and swallowed.

"Every year since as far back as I can remember," she said. "It's like a tradition. We always come for the chicken and Dad always wins me a fish."

"A fish? Like a real fish?"

"Yep. I have a small aquarium at home. I have one fish that's been alive for like, five years, I think. Right, Dad?"

"Somethin' like that," he said with a nod, dropping his gaze to his plate.

"Wow," you replied. "That's pretty impressive for a carnival fish."

"I know. Dad says I have the magic touch. That maybe I should be a vet, or a zookeeper, or a marine biologist."

"You would be awesome at any of those things," you said with a smile. Joel's eyes flicked back and forth between you as you spoke, the warmth in his chest blooming at the way Sarah looked at you.

"Thanks. I've always loved animals, I think I would like to do something like that when I grow up. What did you want to be when you were little?"

"Me?" you asked, taken aback by the question. "You know, I barely even remember. I think for a while I wanted to be a teacher. Then I got older and... I don't know. I worked odd jobs here or there, then I didn't work for a while, and now I'm here."

"Did you work as a waitress before?" she asked. Joel stayed suspiciously quiet while you spoke, pretending to focus on his food but in reality was hanging on your every word, eager to learn more.

"A long time ago, yeah," you said after swallowing a bite of chicken.

"Do you like it at Uncle Tommy's?"

"Sarah, give her a second to eat, will ya?" Joel finally interjected, giving her a look. You laughed and waved him off.

"It's okay. Yes, I really like it at the diner. Everyone's really nice there. Your uncle is a really good boss."

"Is my dad your favorite customer?" she asked with a playful smirk, and Joel groaned into his palm next to you.

"I mean, obviously," you replied, rolling your eyes and making her giggle.

Fortunately, a marching band was making their way down the main drag of the fairgrounds, drowning out any remaining questions Sarah might have had. Grateful for the break, you ate as much as you could before pushing the rest to Joel, insisting you couldn't finish it. He gave you a fake disappointed look before he finished off the rest of your food, and you giggled as he pretended to scold you while Sarah smiled, watching the two of you quietly.

After you were done, the three of you walked the fairgrounds for a bit, heading towards the rides. Sarah spotted a group of friends from soccer and begged Joel to let her go hang out with them. He nodded, but only after he scanned the group and made sure he recognized the girls.

"She's gettin' to be that age where she ditches me for all her friends," he said as he watched her run off with a couple twenties from his wallet.

"That's gotta be tough," you said sympathetically, your eyes drifting over the different rides as you walked past.

"Not so much today," he replied, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye and watching your cheeks flush.

"Joel..." you said quietly. You needed to remind the both of you where you stood. Now that you were alone, it felt too much like a date, and you felt yourself slipping into that grey territory again.

"I know, I know. Just friends, right?" he said, as if reading your mind.

"Yeah," you said softly, looking down at the ground, unable to look him in the eye. You wanted to be so much more than just friends but you just couldn't let yourself be honest with him.

"It's okay, you know," he said, finally drawing your gaze back to him. "I can be okay with being just friends."

"Really?" you asked, but you felt your stomach twist and the little voice in your head was screaming at you for being such a fucking idiot.

"Yeah, really," he said with a chuckle. "If you don't feel the same way, it's fine. I understand."

"That's not-" you began with a shake of your head. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" he asked instantly. You paused, not sure how much to tell him. He must have picked up on your hesitancy because he quickly retracted his question.

"Sorry. You don't gotta - just forget it."

"I really like spending time with you. I just have some stuff I need to work through on my own," you finally admitted, not wanting to elaborate further but you felt compelled to give him something.

"Y'know, friends would tell each other what kind of stuff they're strugglin' with," he said with a teasing tone, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinning.

"Is that so?" you replied, and he nodded.

"Oh yeah. All my buddies spill their guts to me whenever they're dealin' with somethin'," he said, pursing his lips to try to keep up the serious facade.

"And what kind of stuff do your friends tell you, Sheriff?" you asked, still smiling as you glanced over at him walking by your side.

"Oh, the usual. Boss is bein' too hard on 'em, car's givin' 'em trouble... girl they like won't call," he said, watching you giggle at the last one.

"What advice do you give them?" you pressed, and he finally grinned.

"Find a new job and take the car in to Connor's," he said with a shrug, as if the answer was obvious.

"And what about the last one?" you asked slowly, biting your lip and keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead. You knew you shouldn't encourage him, but you couldn't help yourself.

"That one's tougher," he said with a dramatic sigh. "But I would tell 'em not to give up. And if they have an adorable daughter, I would tell 'em to bring her around to help play matchmaker."

You giggled and he smiled, pleased every time he could make you laugh. He had to resist the urge to reach out and hold your hand. He missed talking with you like this too much to risk ruining it again, and if this was all you were willing to offer him, he would take it.

As you walked by a carnival game, Joel chuckled under his breath at the men trying and failing to impress their girlfriends by shooting poorly at the moving targets with fake guns. One of them heard his laugh and twisted around.

"You think you can do any better, Sheriff?" one balding man asked with a smirk.

"I should hope so, Kenny," Joel said, stopping and shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

"Why don't you put your money where your mouth is, then?" another man said with a grin. A couple people walking past overheard the conversation and stopped to watch.

Joel shrugged and turned back to you.

"D'you mind?"

"Not at all," you said, waving him forward. You stood back with your arms crossed and watched as Joel tossed a five dollar bill on the table and took a seat on an empty stool. He picked up the toy gun and twisted it around in his hand, testing the weight and the sight before readjusting himself, spreading his legs wide and straightening his back. Your mouth went dry as you watched him lean forward and take aim before slowly letting a breath pass through his lips, gently squeezing the trigger and hitting the moving target right in the center.

A chorus of groans and jeers from the other men drowned out the low sound you made before you took a deep breath and watched him take aim once again. Your gaze was too focused on him and the way he handled himself with such ease and confidence to notice that the crowd behind you grew bigger, some were even recording it on their phones.

When Joel repeated the same action, deftly squeezing the trigger and once again hitting his mark, you felt a pull below your waist that completely distracted you from the loud cheers.

Three more times you watched Joel take aim and hit a bullseye without even breaking a sweat. Your pulse was racing and your knees felt weak by the time he stood up with a bashful smile and took a bow for the crowd. His gaze landed on yours and his smile faltered when he saw the look in your eye, but his attention was immediately stolen by the teenager running the game.

"Here you go, man," he said, handing over a stuffed penguin half your size.

"Christ, Joel, way to make us look bad," Kenny teased good-naturedly with a playful punch to his shoulder. Joel grinned and shrugged, his cheeks dusted with the slightest bit of pink.

"Better hit the range, then, boys," he said, turning away from them and heading over towards you, his gaze darkening as he approached.

"Here you go, buddy," he said with half a smirk as he handed you the prize. You cleared your throat, trying to rid your mind of the lust driven thoughts that took over your brain for the past five minutes.

"Don't you want to give it to Sarah?" you asked, hesitantly accepting it.

"Givin' it to you," was all he said, then jutted his chin, urging you to start walking.

"Thank you," you said breathlessly, looking down at the stuffed animal as you let him lead you away.

You walked side by side, a few people stopping to pat Joel on the shoulder and glance at you curiously before you managed to melt back into the crowd.

"That was something else," you finally said, breaking the silence.

"I'm an assassin in my spare time," he joked, and you giggled, the heat rising to your cheeks almost immediately. God, you were so fucked.

You went to the restroom to try to collect yourself, reminding yourself quietly over and over in the mirror he's just a friend, he's just a friend, stop it.

When you came out, your eyes scanned around until you spotted him with a funnel cake sitting at a picnic table with your penguin sitting in the seat next to him, his eyes cast down on the phone in his hand. Fuck, even just sitting there scrolling on his phone, he was too damn good looking. You slid across from him and squeezed your thighs together under the table, looking for some relief and hoping he wouldn't notice.

"Hey," he said with a warm smile, then tucked his phone back into his pocket. "Sorry. Just checkin' in with Sarah." He reached forward, ripping off a piece of the funnel cake and popping it in his mouth, then pushed the plate towards you, encouraging you to help yourself.

"How's she doing?" you asked. You took a bite and then closed your eyes, moaning a little when the sugar hit your tongue. When he didn't respond right away, you opened your eyes and paused your chewing. His eyes raked over your face slowly, his heated stare burning you from the inside out. You swallowed your food roughly and cleared your throat. Just friends.

"She's good," he finally said softly, still giving you that look that made your heart skip a beat and your insides feel like jelly. You nodded, your head spinning, trying to think of a way to break this sudden tension when he reached out a hand, his fingers pinching your chin and his thumb swiping over your lower lip, collecting some powered sugar that gathered there. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his touch on your lips. When your eyes reopened, you held your breath as he pulled his hand back and sucked the pad of his thumb into his mouth, his plush lips wrapping enticingly around his finger, refusing to break eye contact.

You could barely breathe. You needed to say something before you lost all control, but unfortunately, he spoke first.

"You're makin' it real hard to be your friend when you make noises like that, sweetheart," he said lowly. You felt the slick between your legs as you pressed your thighs together even tighter.

"You're not exactly making it easy, either, you know," you said, matching his tone. You could see the playful glint in his eye as the corner of his mouth tugged into half a smile.

"Yeah? How's that?"

"Showing off those shooting skills in front of the whole town like it was nothing," you told him, the words tumbling out before you had a chance to think. He leaned across the picnic table and licked his bottom lip.

"You liked that?" he asked, his gaze flicking between your eyes and mouth. You leaned forward as well, getting caught in his magnetic pull.

"Mhmm," was all you managed to get out as you felt yourself falling under his spell.

"Why?"

"Hm?" you asked, looking up and dragging your eyes off his little exposed patch of chest, your mind growing hazy.

"Why did'ya like it?" he clarified. His voice sounded strained and his jaw looked tense as he continued to stare you down across the picnic table. You grinned and sat back, trying to put a little distance between you, hoping it would cause one or both of you to snap out of it, but it didn't work.

"The answer to that question isn't exactly a friendly one," you finally told him, biting your lip to hold back your giggle when you saw his pained reaction. What were you doing? This was so wrong, but you couldn't stop.

"Tell me, I wanna hear it," he whispered desperately, his eyes dark pools of lust as he waited for you to speak.

You knew if you said what you wanted to say, there would be no going back. It would go a step beyond innocent flirting and it could lead you both somewhere you knew you shouldn't go. But you were weak, after all. So you said it, anyway.

"It made me think about what else those hands could do."

It was a good thing you weren't leaning forward any longer because the look in his eye made you believe if you were within reaching distance, he would have had you bent over the picnic table already, dress hiked up around your waist for the whole town to see.

"Fuck," he rasped, finally breaking eye contact so he could rub his face roughly with his palms. Suddenly he dropped his hands back down on the table, his eyes ablaze.

"Come home with me and I'll show you," he begged. Your arousal was becoming far too evident, to the point where you worried you would leave a mark on your dress. You wanted nothing more than to go home with him, but it wouldn't be right. You weren't being honest. He deserved to know the truth before he got mixed up with all your shit.

"That's not very friend-"

"Fuck being friends, I want you," he said, practically out of breath while his hand gripped the side of the table so tightly you thought the wood would crack. "And you want me, too. So what the hell are we doin' here?"

"I-" you stammered, immediately regretting letting this get so far out of hand. You weren't ready to tell him the truth. You knew if you did, it would ruin everything.

"What am I sayin'? I'm movin' way too fast," he said, his tone softening as he misread your hesitancy. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pressure you. We can go slow, okay?"

And because you were so weak, you nodded.

"Slow. Okay."

He leaned back and the look of relief on his face instantly filled you with guilt. If you were going to do this - if you were going to really try to do this with him - you needed to tell him the truth. Sooner rather than later.

He insisted on walking you to your car, his hand finding yours at your side while he carried the stuffed animal with his other hand. The parking lot was dark and quiet the further you got away from the fairgrounds. He was telling you something about being safe at night but all you could hear in your head was tell him! tell him!

When you got to your car, he put the penguin in the front seat and jokingly secured the seatbelt around it, making you smile nervously. You couldn't let this go any further.

But when he rounded the car to say good night and looked at you with those soft, beautiful eyes, you felt the voice in your head grow more distant.

He reached up to cup your face with both hands and looked you in the eye for just a moment before bending down and brushing his lips against yours. It was so soft and sweet and gentle and unlike anything you've ever felt that you just melted into his touch, your shaky hands coming up to his chest. He tasted like sugar and he smelled like heaven and you couldn't get enough, so you deepened the kiss, your tongue tentatively exploring his mouth as he walked you backwards a few steps so you were pushed up against your car. His hands fell from your face to your hips, squeezing them gently with his fingers and pulling you ever so slightly forward so you could feel what you were doing to him. You gasped at the hardness caged within his jeans, and he took the opportunity to venture down your jaw, his lips gently nipping while he went as you instinctually tipped your head back, the sensation far too intoxicating.

"So beautiful," he murmured into your neck. "Gonna take real good care of you one day. Gonna make you forget about every other man who's ever had you, you hear me?"

Your eyes snapped open, reality finally sinking in.

"Joel, wait," you whispered, and reluctantly he pulled back, but he kept his hands firmly on your hips.

"What's wrong?" he asked, lips parted and slightly out of breath from excitement.

"I need to tell you something."

His grip loosened on your hips but he still held them there as he began to grow concerned by the serious look on your face.

"Okay," he said slowly.

You took a shaky breath in, knowing it was now or never.

"I'm married."

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @merz-8 @sarap-77 @nandan11 @anoverwhelmingdin @fandomscollide @survivingandenduring @honeyedmiller @pedropascalsbbg @southernbe @pedrosfanny @gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts @missladym1981 @spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85 @maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox @gobaaby-blog-blog @stevie75 @mxtokko @sleepylunarwolf

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Me or him (part 4)

~ part 1, part 2, part 3

pairing: felix x afab!reader x hyunjin genre: angst, smut word count: 3.2k warning/s: swearing, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v (don't do it), creampie, no happy ending!!! a/n: this is the last chapter of this mini series! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i had fun writing it🫶🏻(and also made myself cry while writing this last chapter dkdldl) ~ check out my: Masterlist

The last few days, you were nothing but miserable. All day, every day you thought about what you did and the more you thought about it, the more it depressed you.

Felix has been texting and calling for days. But you couldn't deal with him and the last thing he said before he left that night.

'I'll never give up on us.'

What he said made you even more mad in that moment. You tried calling Hyunjin but it seems that he blocked your number as soon as he left the apartment and your life.

You knew there was no going back and there was no way he would ever forgive either of you but you wanted to at least tell him how bad you felt for betraying him and breaking his heart.

Changbin came to pick Hyunjin's stuff up and he gave you the cold shoulder as soon as he saw you.

"H-how's Hyunjin?"- you ask quietly as Changbin packs his stuff.

"How do you think he is?"- he scoffs, not even looking at you.

"I- I know I fucked up real bad. But can you just tell him how sorry-"

"No, y/n. You don't get to apologize and feel better because of it. Hyunjin deserves more than a shitty apology you're making just because you feel guilty. I hope you feel guilty for a very long time cause you really broke his heart. Both you and... Felix. I don't wish anything ill upon anyone usually, but honestly whatever karma you two get, you deserve it."- Changbin says, shoving the last of the boxes closed.

You're silent. There is nothing you can do, you know Changbin loves Hyunjin like a brother and nothing you say to him in this moment can repair what you've broken.

"Also, here's anything you gifted to Hyunjin or him to you while you were together. He doesn't want any of the stuff to remind him of you so sell them, throw them away or something. I don't know."- Changbin shrugs, bringing in a box.

"Goodbye, y/n."

-

Your apartment might as well be completely vacant cause that's how it feels. Half of your closet is empty. Hyunjin's favorite snacks are gone from the pantry. His paintings that adorned the walls were gone, the paint on the wall lighter where they used to hang, leaving just a shadow of what once was.

The smell of his skin has almost completely faded away from your sheets. You can't even sleep in your bed because every time you lay down in it, you remember how you said your lovers name in the most intimate moment shared with your boyfriend, and your chest squeezes in anxiety.

You sleep on the couch, you force yourself to eat, you exist at work, your days seem to be seeping into one long painful experience. It's like you're barely even real, like the world is moving around you in slow motion and you're just there.

You can't take it.

You can't take being alone.

-

Your hand trembles as you lift it up, contemplating if you should actually be doing this.

It's still not too late to turn back and just go home. But what are you going back home to? Empty walls? A cold bed? That damn box of things that remind Hyunjin of you that you still didn't manage to bring yourself even to touch?

No, you can't go back there. Not like this.

So you ring the doorbell.

"Coming!"- you hear his muffled voice.

The door opens and a disheveled Felix widdens his eyes at the sight of you.

"Y/n!"- he gasps.

"I... I didn't know where else to go."- you say weakly.

Felix stares at you for a moment, the look in his eyes becoming softer.

"Come in."- he says and steps aside.

You end up sitting on his couch, where everything started. Pretty ironic, you think. He sits down too, and the two of you struggle to say something.

"Didn't you say that you don't ever wanna see me again?"- he asks quietly.

"That didn't stop you from calling and texting."- you answer equally as quiet.

"Well, I said I wont give up on us. That wasn't a lie."- he says and you sigh, finally finding the courage to look at him. He waits for you to say something and you stare at him, his eyes still warm when they look at you. You hurt him too though, haven't you?

"Felix, I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't really mean it. I was angry at myself and I took it out on you. I mean that's no excuse but we both did a really shitty thing. I feel so fucking guilty, sick to my stomach for hurting someone as wonderful as Hyunjin is."- your eyes water. "I think about it every day. I really hope he can heal and find someone better. And I... well I want to try giving us a chance if you still want me."- Felix's eyes widden.

"But I need to know that you feel guilty too. I need to know that you know what we did was wrong."- you add, wiping away tears that slowly made their way down your cheeks.

"Ofcourse I feel guilty, y/n. I'm not some kind of monster. Hyunjin is- was one of my closest friends. I broke his heart too, I betrayed him too. And I do think about it. But, I can't help also thinking about you every day. I still want you, I want to be there for you. I want to be yours."

Your heart speeds up when you hear those words and you wordlessly lean in, closing the gap between you and Felix. His lips are soft against yours and only when he reciprocates the kiss, you realize you missed him.

"Wait a sec."- Felix gently grabs your wrists, leaning away from you.

"What is it?"- you ask as you notice his lips trembling.

"I don't want this to be just fucking to you. I don't want to be a rebound. I want to have a real chance of a relationship with you, like we're starting from the beginning."- Felix's eyes are big as he scans your face.

Your chest tightens.

"I... Okay."- you nod. "But I need you now. I missed you."- you confess and it's exactly what Felix wants to hear.

"I missed you too. I thought I'd never see you again."- his hands cup your face as he talks between kisses. "I need you too."- he adds and kisses you more passionately as you tangle your hands in his hair.

Something in your gut feels wrong, something nagging at you in the back of your mind but still you let Felix take you to his bedroom. It looks exactly how you remember it and everything smells like him. He kisses you, his tongue exploring your mouth, his hands holding your hips tightly.

You're drunk on the taste of him, it's all so familiar, so comforting that you lose your mind to his touch.

You grip his waist and turn him around, pushing him down to sit on the bed.

"Y/n..."- Felix lets out a shaky breath as you place your palms on his thighs, spreading his legs apart before you slowly kneel down in between them.

"Fuck..."- he whines as your hand comes in contact with his hard, clothed member. You grip him and move your hand on him, feeling him grow under your touch.

You don't want to waste too much time so you hook your fingers in his sweatpants and slide them down with his boxers and Felix whines as soon as the cold air hits his leaking cock.

You lean in and lick at his tip gathering the precum, swirling your tongue around until you take him in your mouth and suck gently. Felix grips at the bed, the sight of you on your knees, pleasing him like that makes his heart beat fast.

Drunk on the feeling of his cock heavy on your tongue you keep taking more and more of him in, swallowing and humming around him, driving him crazy with desire.

His hands tangle in your hair and he grabs a fistful of it, pushing his hips up and accidentally making you gag around him.

"Ah, shit!"- he whines as his cock twitches inside your mouth.

You bob your head faster and moans keep spilling from his lips as you bring him closer to the edge.

"Stop, stop, don't make me cum yet!"- Felix whines and you lift off of him, licking your lips and looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"Let me taste you too, sweetheart."- he says, his voice deeper than usually and his pupils blown, the nickname he always uses for you making your pussy throb.

Pretty soon, you're naked with him between your legs, his tongue lapping at you hungrily like he was deprived of actual food for months.

His fingers work to open you up as he sucks on your clit, tongue darting out to tease your wetness.

"Missed your taste."- his voice is muffled as he speaks into you, his eyes closed in pure bliss as he keeps eating you out.

"Lix!"- you whimper as your hips spasm towards his face, his fingers finding that gummy spot inside you. "Ah, don't stop."- you say and he speeds up, making your legs shake and your heart race as he keeps hitting that sweet spot, his tongue lapping at your clit.

Pleasure washes over you and you explode, squirting all over his face and the bed.

"Shit, sorry!"- you gasp and Felix chuckles.

"Don't apologize, that was really hot."- he smirks, fingers caressing your wet folds. "I guess this pussy really missed me."

"It did."- you whisper breathlessly, as he leans in again and gives you a few kitten licks.

"I missed her too."

"Felix"- you tug at his hair and try to lift him up. He looks up at you and smirks, his thumb on your clit.

"Want something?"- he asks.

"Don't tease me now. You know what I want."- you whine.

"Say it, sweetheart."- he says, his deep voice sending vibrations through you.

"I want your cock, please."- you give in immediately and Felix smirks triumphantly as he slides his hands up to cup your breasts, hovering over you. One of his hands grabs his neglected cock that's screaming for any kind of attention and he gives it a few pumps, the tip caressing your wet cunt.

You grip at his arm, nails digging into his skin as he pushes in, your pussy molding around the shape of him, the familiar stretch.

Felix loses himself as soon as he feels your warm, wet walls clenching around him and he fucks you with vigor.

"Oh my god!"- you whimper, holding onto him for dear life.

"Fuck, I missed you so much."- Felix whimpers, face buried in your neck as he keeps shoving his cock inside you, waves of pleasure making you feel like you're floating on air.

"More, more, more..."- you keep chanting.

"I love you, I love you, y/n."- he says desperately holding onto your hips, but you only moan in response as you spasm, your juices spilling all over his cock.

"Felix!"- you moan his name as he keeps fucking you, hips snapping into you strongly.

"I'm close. Can I cum inside? Please, let me cum inside."- he begs repeatedly and you've never seen him this desperate.

A brief thought of a rule runs through your mind, one that the two of you have already broken before. The one where you told Felix that he can't come inside you, only Hyunjin can, and your mind races, a pang of guilt hitting you again.

"Please, y/n, I can't hold it much longer."- Felix ruts into you sloppily.

"Okay, you can cum inside me."- you whisper, nails digging into his back as he growls lowly, hips picking up speed again.

Between his low grunts and the whispered 'I love you's', his hips stutter as he finishes, his hot cum filling you up and making you feel incredibly wet.

"You didn't say it back."- Felix whispers as he pulls out and lays next to you, facing you so you face him too.

"I'm sorry."- you whisper, tears threatening to spill.

"I'll wait for you."- he says.

"Okay."- you say as his hand gently caresses your cheek.

-

Felix promises he'll work on himself and on your relationship. You promise you'll work on yourself too and give this a real chance.

And you really try but deep down you know you don't love Felix the way you loved Hyunjin which makes you even more confused at why you even started the affair, and how you ended up sharing pancakes on a date with him instead of celebrating four years with Hyunjin.

Felix looks happy, the happiest you've seen him and you can't even count how many fake smiles you fed him. It's wrong and it makes you feel like an even worse person than before.

The box of stuff Hyunjin returned to you is buried deep inside your closet, still unopened and untouched. It's been a few months and you still can't make yourself sift through it or even just throw it away.

Whenever you're at home, you want to run away because your apartment still reminds you of Hyunjin, and you still can't let Felix in and you definitely don't want him in the bed you and Hyunjin shared. So you go to Felix's place but whenever you're there, he's there and he doesn't want to leave you alone for a moment, and his apartment just reminds you of the many times you ran into his arms behind your boyfriend's back.

Felix is too excited, too happy and you know he's not stupid, you're pretty sure he can feel that you don't love him the way he loves you, he's just trying to ignore it.

Maybe it's best if you actually start fresh, away from everything and everyone that remind you of the biggest mistake you've made in your life.

-

"Lix, can we talk?"- you start one afternoon, as you hang out in his apartment.

"Yeah, what's up?"- he asks, his attention on you.

Oh, boy. Even though Felix wasn't a saint, he didn't deserve to have his heart broken but the more you thought about it, the more you came to the conclusion that it would be best if the two of you went your own separate ways.

"This isn't something I'm doing just like that, it's something I thought over and over about and I'm doing this with a heavy heart- but I think we should separate. And for real this time. I mean actually never talk again."- Felix's face morphs from sadness to annoyance as he listens to you.

"Why would you say something like that? I thought we were making progress. I thought you-"

"Felix, please, just listen for a sec. I'm sorry but I don't love you like you love me. I care for you but that's as far as my feelings go."- you say and he looks at you like a kicked puppy. "I don't want to keep lying to you because I feel like I'm doing that constantly. I can't move on from what we did to Hyunjin, I can't heal or become a better person. Neither can you, because this isn't healthy. Our relationship was never healthy. And I think both of us are just keeping each other stuck and lying to ourselves thinking that this could work when it started out as betrayal to someone who cared about both of us. We can't build a healthy relationship on that. I said I'd give it a chance and I did but I can't do this anymore. Not to myself and not to you. I want you to also be happy and find someone who will love you properly."- by the time you finish talking, both of you are crying.

"I don't know what to say, y/n. It just hurts a lot to hear that you don't feel the same for me because I've been loving you for years. I know that I made the first move and I was wrong for that. I was wrong to come between you and Hyunjin. B-but I thought if he had a chance to start over, maybe you'd grow to love me. Obviously, I can't force you to."- he sniffles so you grab his hand.

"It's really over now, huh?"- he asks, squeezing your hand.

"I'm really sorry Felix. For everything."

"Me too."- he nods. "P-please just let me kiss you and hold you one last time."- he whispers.

"Okay."- you whisper back and Felix presses his lips on yours, the taste of salty tears making your heart ache. He puts his arms around you and holds you tightly. You hold him too, while you both cry. But it's better this way. It's better to start completely fresh, for all three of you.

"I'll always love you."- he whispers.

"I know you will."- you whisper back and Felix smiles sadly.

He watches as you walk away from the window, lips trembling, still not completely aware that that is the last time he'll ever see you.

-

You're sitting on your floor crosslegged, the box Hyunjin returned in front of you.

You think it's time to finally open it.

You slowly lift up the lid and look into it.

It's like a time capsule of your moments together. There are three sketchbooks inside, filled with sketches of you. You smiling, cooking, sleeping, existing. Just you through Hyunjin's eyes. Cologne you bought him that makes you tear up because it brings up memories of his scent that he always left on your sheets and your skin. Shared jewelry he always got for the two of you so you could be matching. Couple rings you wore that made you remember all your friends teasing you that you got engaged within 3 months of dating. Your favorite t-shirt of his, the one he gave you to wear the first night you made love. Since then it became yours and Hyunjin loved seeing you in it, nothing else just the shirt and your pretty legs. There were tickets to art exhibitions you went to together, where Hyunjin would pull out his camera and take pictures of you and the pretty paintings surrounding you. Tickets to concerts you attended together, where you would dance like crazy and have fun like you had no worries on your mind. At the very bottom there were some photos. Photos of you, Hyunjin and Felix when the three of you first became friends. The smiles you had in the photos, pure happiness to be in each other's company, innocent and unaware of what the future holds.

You start crying as you put everything back in the box fast. You don't know how long you lay on your floor crying and hoping that this was all a bad dream and the three of you were still friends and your feelings weren't complicated and you didn't fuck everything up and no one's heart was broken.

But, sadly your reality slaps you in the face. The reality where you ruined your relationship and your friendship. The reality where you betrayed someone who loved you selflessly. The reality where you gave false hope to someone who cared about you. The reality where in the process of breaking hearts, you broke your own heart too. You hope one day you'll be able to pick up the pieces.

Today is not that day.

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @selinia86 @ihrtlino @hash2013 @yongbokkiesworld @xxkhxndlelitexx

[pombeom]

no escape from you | beomgyu fic (part 1)

pairings: enemies to ??, roommate! beomgyu x reader

warnings: suggestive content

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for days but i finally wrote it the way i want. might make this a series with smut in the next chapter so keep a lookout 👀 (not proof read)

You were the responsible one between you and your roommate. You always kept things clean, even picking up after his dirty dishes. But being his partner for a paired project was not what you signed up for. Gambling your grade and trying to work with him? Not a chance. 

When are you free? We really need to start our presentation! 

Your frantic spamming of texts went straight to delivered and were probably not going to be read for another 24 hours at least. You would think that being assigned to do a presentation with someone who was quite literally your roommate would be a breeze, but with Beomgyu never being around, the task seemed impossible. You hated the guts of this guy but you were willing to work through it for the sake of your grade. Well that’s only if he comes backs to your shared dorm before the end of the fucking day. Your sleep schedule awaits no one. 

Sat at the kitchen table, you spend the next 3 hours researching for parts of your presentation knowing that it’s probably be easier to start it off without Beomgyu. Scrolling through websites and watching videos on the topic, you write down the notes in your notebook but eventually, without meaning to, your eyes slam shut, falling alseep in your folded arms which rest on the table. 

A lock clicks as the door screeches open. At the early hours of the morning, you are awakened by your drunk roommate. You jolt your eyes open upon hearing the noise of his shoes, his footsteps uneven, indicating his intoxicated state. Anger bubbles in you as you turn sharply to face Beomgyu, giving him an intense glare which he meets with his half open eyes, appearing to be laughing at you. 

“Aww, did you wait up for me, sweetheart,” he taunts, knowing how much you hate the stupid nicknames he gives you on purpose. 

“No. In fact, I fell alseep trying to finish our fucking presentation which is due in fucking 2 days! Do you know how many times I called and texted?” Your tone came out harsh and direct which in some ways was exactly what you were going for but more so, you just wanted to get your point across. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I was out.” 

“I can see that. And stop calling me “sweetheart”. It sounds so fucking stupid. I have a name and that’s what I’d like to be called.”   

He inches closer to you, stumbling a little, grabbing onto your arms for support. His grip is gentle but firm, cautious to hold tight but not to hurt you.  

“Listen sweetheart, if you’re gonna yell at me at least do it when you’re not dressed like this. I can’t help but get a little turned on.” 

“Fuck you!” You turn a shade of crimson as you feel a sense of angry embarrassment. Your slip dress was short and the low cut did nothing but show off your cleavage to Beomgyu who towered over you, getting a clear view of your chest. 

“Well if that’s what you want, sweetheart. I’m down. But maybe tomorrow or something. I’m tired right now.” He smirks, saying goodbye with a two finger salute. 

With that, he makes his way to his own room, leaving you filled with a cloud of confusion and unease. He may have been joking but his words made your stomach flutter, carrying and intense heat throughout your body. 

I really need to go to bed. 

————————————————————————

Getting approximately 4 hours of sleep last night had you waking up on the wrong side of bed. You were cranky beyond help and your mood only depleted when you saw Beomgyu sitting at the kitchen table, munching away at his cereal. 

“Good morning sleepyhead, get a good night of rest?,” his remark was sarcastic, almost shaming you for your evidently tired appearance. 

“Beomgyu please. It’s too early in the morning to be arguing with you.” 

“As you wish.” 

You joined him at the table, grabbing yourself some fruit and toast and you both continued to eat in silence. The air was stiff as you could feel Beomgyu constantly looking up from his bowl to stare into your face whilst you desperately attempted to avoid looking in the same direction to prevent any accidental eye contact. 

Why was he being so intense today?

As you finish your last bite, a wave of relief washes over you as you quickly get up and head over to the sink, washing up your plate before you feel a presence behind you. Beomgyu’s chest came in direct contact with your back sending a flush of pink straight to your cheeks. You tried to move away but his arms caged you. You could hear his breath against your ear, leaving a tingling sensation on your sensitive skin. 

“You know my offer from last night still stands. If you’re up for it,” his whispers send you into a frenzy and you turn around faster than the speed of light almost challenging him as you look up to his face. 

“Listen to me Choi Beomgyu. You have no right to speak to me like that. Nothing of the sort will ever happen. Do. You. Understand?” Your voice was firm and confident, concealing any embarrassment you felt earlier. 

“Shit. That was kinda hot, sweetheart.” He places his hands over yours which had somehow made his way up his chest, grabbing ahold of his white t-shirt. “Now, we have a class to get to. Wouldn’t want to be late now would we?” 

The realisation struck harder than lightning as you jolt you eyes over to the clock, knowing you had a little over 7 minutes to make it to your class. If you ran. 

You push Beomgyu away and grab your bag and slip on your shoes by the door and dash out the door, without care for your roommate who was also in the same class. 

“Hey, wait for me!” His voice yells from behind you, almost catching up. 

“Beomgyu, I really don’t have the time for this right now. I’m gonna be late.” 

“I know a shortcut. Follow me.” He grabs ahold of your hand, dragging you in the opposite direction from the one you’re used to. What started off as speed walking had evolved into a sprint as you’re left huffing and puffing trying to match the strides of his long legs. 

Within minutes you arrive at the door of your lecture theatre, astounded that you made it on time. As you both walked in, still clutching hands, you quickly noticed the limited seats available. Almost every row was full apart from 2 seats on the furthest end of the 7th row on the left. 

“There,” Beomgyu points, upon identifying the seats, ”Guess we’re sitting together today.” He sounded rather pleased, the corners of his mouth lifting to display his smug expression. 

“Brilliant. Sooo excited,” you sneered, ensuring that the sarcasm in your tone was conveyed as you squeezed past the entire row, making your way to the end, as Beomgyu takes a seat to your right. 

“You better be, sweetheart.” 

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 3

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: none for this one, I think

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Unedited for now! Holy moly, sorry for taking so long on this one. I was kinda drowning in uni work the past week. The next chapter should come sooner, I hope. Also just wanted to say thank you so much to those who take the time to comment!! I really really appreciate the kind words. You guys are super sweet. Mwa mwa.

The inky black fireworks exploded in the distance as you were led back into the underground chambers of the arena. Your eyes are relieved to escape the infrared sun. Heavy doors open for you once more. The na-Baron stands, chest exposed, skin slick with sweat under the artificial light. His blown-out eyes hone in on you as you enter. He makes his way to you holding the blood-stained handkerchief.

"Did you enjoy the show, my lady?" His chest heaves and you feel his heavy breaths as he leans into your ear, voice even more raspy, "Aren't you something, little hawk."

He holds the cloth up as if giving it to you but when you reach for the handkerchief he snatches it away.

You sigh and lift your veil, a sweet smile plastered on your face, "A most impressive demonstration, na-Baron. You are as formidable as they say."

Feyd-Rautha takes a moment to scan your face. He doesn't know what your game is but he wants to play.

His breathing has settled. He raises a hand to reach for your cheek but you move past him. You walk towards a table displaying knives laid over a cloth. You pick one up to examine. The blades remain uncleaned, the blood from earlier in the day already beginning to dry. You sense they will be kept that way.

"You have good form. Clean, precise," you say, holding the dagger in a reverse grip, edge out. "You enjoy it, don't you?"

From behind, you feel Feyd-Rautha close the distance between you once again.

"Perhaps you enjoy it a little too much," you turn to him, "I'm sure you let him disarm you on purpose. For the show."

Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and allows himself a small smile. "You should return to the fortress, my lady. I have duties to attend to," he touches your armed hand and gently takes the knife from you, "and my uncle would like to see you."

Despite being shielded from the black sun, you elect to keep your veil for your lunch with the Baron. You excuse the chill running down your spine as the coldness of the high, stony walls of Fortress Harko as Iassa escorts you to the dining hall. Iassa kept her head bowed, you noticed, hands folded in front of her. She didn't need to look ahead to know the way.

When you arrive, large doors open to the sight of the Baron floating at the head of the table. There was only one other seat at the side of the table a few feet from him. Despite that, there was a full spread of food which his servants were already feeding him.

You had done your best to avoid the Baron in your short time here, but it seems this meeting was inevitable.

"Lady Atreides," his eyes turn toward you lazily. "Come. Eat."

"Good afternoon, Baron," you curtsy as you enter. Iassa bows to you and waits outside. You take your seat, "will it only be us, my lord? This seems a lavish spread for only two people."

"Are you calling me a glutton, girl?" he spats.

Your heart takes a beat as you try not to stare at his grotesquely large body.

"We are Harkonnen," his husky laugh rings through the room. "We may lavish as much as we please."

You exhale the breath you were holding and let out a small laugh. Of course. They were the richest house in the Landsraad. The Harkonnens must be accustomed to excess.

"Soon, child, you will be Harkonnen as well," he says in that gravelly voice that is so uncomfortably similar to Feyd-Rautha's. "Is that what you want?"

The question takes you aback. No one has ever asked you this question before. This betrothal has been decided for so long, you've never even thought to ask the question yourself. It was all you'd known. Your duty. You had never bothered to imagine what your life would have been if you weren't destined to marry the Harkonnen heir.

You regain your composure, "Baron, it is my honor to unite our Great-"

"Drop the act, child!" he barks. "Perhaps you fear me, but if you are to become 'family', I will not have the patience for charades. Speak plainly. Do you want to marry my nephew?"

This has been a most unusual exchange. At least compared to what you're used to. Always taught to be sweet and pleasant. You suppose you had nothing to lose, considering the Baron killing you would start an all-out war. You take a moment to think, and then a deep breath.

"I am a woman, dear Baron. There is not much for me in this life. Indeed, tales of your house's savagery are well-known throughout the systems, and in Caladan more than most. But had I not been betrothed to your nephew, I would only be married off to some other lord or count or whatever, gentler than Feyd-Rautha they may be," you swallow. "Perhaps, I could have been trained a Bene Gesserit sister. However, to become the wife of the heir to one of the most powerful houses in the known universe—there are worse fates."

The Baron stares, seemingly satisfied with your answer. He waves his servants away. "Eat, child. Waste not the food of one of the most powerful houses in the known universe."

He begins to glide towards the doors on his side of the hall and his servants scurry to lay down their forks and follow after him.

You look to the remaining servants in the dining hall, then to the mounds of food on the table. Your first dinner on Giedi Prime had felt suffocating with all the nobles around and Feyd-Rautha smugly breathing down your neck. You pile your plate high.

In your quarters, Iassa helps you out of your clothes and into a warm bath. You don't wait for her and begin scrubbing your skin with a rag yourself. Between the heat from the morning gladiator fights and your tense conversation with the Baron, you were happy to wash the sweat off your body.

"Is this alright, my lady?" Iassa is trying to wash your hair with the lightest touch, "Does it hurt you?"

"No, no. It's quite alright." You take over and she moves to begin scrubbing your legs.

You're grateful you brought bottles of your own hair soaps. You notice Iassa is intently observing how you washed your hair and you appreciate her wanting to learn. Although, you surmise she might not have a choice. Her black choker seems to stand out even more against her pale skin.

"How was your day, Iassa?" you say as you lather your hair.

She pauses in confusion. "It was quite alright, my lady," her voice is soft and polite.

"Do they treat you well?" you knew it was a futile question.

"I am property of House Harkonnen, my lady," she says as she pours more water into the grey stone bath, "I am treated appropriately."

"Yes, but do you mean appropriately as in well or appropriately as in—" your desperate attempt to make a friend seems to be slipping through your fingers. You let out an exasperated sigh, "I know it's only been a few days but, do I treat you well, Iassa?"

She takes a moment and smiles up at you, "My lady has been most gracious." You see in her eyes she means it.

"You were right about the na-Baron," you say, "he is formidable indeed."

"I'm pleased my lady was impressed," she wraps a robe around you as you rise from the bath.

"Well, I don't know about impressed," you say as you step out, "he is a decent fighter, certainly. Perhaps it is a difference in the fighting styles of our worlds."

After helping you dress, Iassa bows and leaves you to retire. Her grey robes flowing behind her.

Once alone, you find your father's dagger in your belongings. The Baron's earlier question comes back to you. Is that what you want? To marry Fayd-Rautha? That night, you sleep clutching the knife close to your heart.

When you awake the following morning, you are greeted by a servant girl bringing you breakfast.

"Where is Iassa?" you ask.

"She has been relieved, my lady," the girl looks even younger than Iassa, "I am Zora."

Your brow furrows, "What does that mean, 'relieved'?"

When Zora remains silent, you get up from the bed.

On the dark grey of your vanity, you notice a black strip of leather. A choker identical to your new servant's but it was unmistakable who it belonged to. Your mind ran through the whys and your blood began to boil.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove

[tookthe-405]

On our way

Chapter 1 :

We’ll keep falling on each other

DONATIONS & LINKS 🇵🇸

DAILY CLICK🍉

Loser!ellie x ex-bsf!reader

ROADTRIPPPP

authors note: first chapterrr🤪 ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO PLS

And pls tell me if the chapters should be shorter and what kind of perspective I should write from (Ellie pov will come later when I’ll fit), LONG AF

Summary: modern Jackson au!

you and Ellie were best friends through your childhood. Now your just neighbours who act like enemies towards each other, but after an incidence you both decide to run away together.

Joel lives 💯

warnings: anxiety , Panik attack?, alcohol, smoking, feeling of throwing up (only mentioned once) smut in future chapters!!, chaotic and stupid arguing between reader and Ellie, school anxiety, messy af (I mostly write at night when the demons come out🐺)

(ellie is 18 and reader is 17 (soon 18))

Readers pov:

6/25

You couldn’t remember the fall out.

For a matter of fact you couldn’t remember anything that happened that night.

You just knew that the next morning Ellie and you weren’t friends anymore. You guys weren’t anything, just total strangers who knew more about each other than any other.

“Iced Coffee and 4 chocolate donuts should be your order”

Your head snaps up and an older guy holds out a bag of donuts.

“Yes, thank you”

You quickly scurry out of the waiting crowd, out the dinner and into the summer air.

2:25 p.m. If Jody would finally pick you up, the both of you might only be 10 minutes late to the game.

While you're waiting, you take a donut out of the bag and realize as you're eating that you don't have a cold ice coffee in your other hand.

"Fuck”

you really wanted that coffee, and by any normal logic you should just go back.

But the fear of embarrassment won. so you decide to just wait outside without a coffee, feeling the dizziness of the lack of sleep in your brain.

The day before was the last exam and you couldn’t sleep the whole night, because of your anxious thoughts that are so unjustified that it’s actually embarrassing.

you watched the cars drive by, as you wait for Judy to pull over.

Today was the last school day. Ever. This morning was the last morning you would ever be in a high school class room to study.

After waiting for a while you hear the horn of Judy`s car or rather her parents car, since both of you are broke and only one of you has their license.

"i forgot my coffee" you complain as you collapse into the passager seat.

"yeah but you didn`t forgot the donuts and thats the really important thing here" Jody happily takes the box full of donuts, out of your hand

"footbal games always stress me out" you rummage through your bag, looking for gumm or just something that will help your body through this hard time.

"i hope my exams were good" you tell her anxious.

"It was our last fucking day, dont worry about something that is over soon. Those last days don`t really matter no one cares"

"I do"

Judy scoffs, puting the donute to her mouth again, all while looking at the street.

"I know, thats your problem. Really, you need to fix that. Your grades are amazing and whatever college you wanna go to, will say yes."

Now you scoff.

"right then why haven’t they replied yet then?"

"because you were too anxious too send your application, you almost threw up in my room"

Your face contorts at the memory. Judy's poor cat hissed at you the whole time because you couldn't sit still at all.

"yeah sorry he gets like that, but not all cats are this easy to annoy i swear"

Your giggle fills the car and you share the last donute, as judy tries to find a parking spot which is obviossly not that easy anymore.

"goddamit those wild people are so greedy" her hands grab the steerig wheel harder, but theres simply no other free spot anymore.

You grow even more annoyed now.

The thoughts in your head take more space than you usually allow them.

The whole morning was shit, the whole day is shit and your life is fucked if you don’t get into university.

"i think we need to use the other one" judy says

"then we`ll have to run through the whole fucking school, were already late, Malik is playing!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she looks at you, thinking, and finally sighs.

"get out I’ll park the car" You immediantly regret snapping at her.

"you dont have to-"

she interrupts you (no suprise)

"bro get out of my car. It’s my fault we`re too late anyway and we both know im only here for the fries"

For a few seconds you hesitate, but then you grab your bag and the donut, and get out the car. Outside, a warm brise tickles your skin, now that the sun is shining right on your face. You pinch you eyes.

Judy dissapers around the corner and you wave, hoping she saw it, but the worry leaves with her because you start running towards the football field.

The whole row was full, every seat. You try to push your way through the crowd on the front, which didn't make it any easier because everyone was pushing forward against the bar to see better.

And it was so loud, every type of noises from every angle. This is your last game of course everyone will be loud, Jesus you’ll be loud, but the game hasn’t even started.

Arriving in the almost last row, Lyla waves to you and you sprint towards her.

"I don't know how you manage to save us seats, thank you so much," You almost scream, because the large group sitting behind her started singing the fucking national anthem.

lyla quickly hugs you and sits right back down. "I don't know how either, but here you go. Where's Judy?"

Her gaze wanders behind you to look out for her, as if judy is hiding behind you "Looking for another parking spot and getting us some fries"

You feel the light box in your hand and remember the one donut inside it.

“Here we’ve left you a donut”

“How generous” lyla replies smirking

Your attention turns to the football field. No one’s there.

“Everyone is still in the cabins, you're not as late as you think" she adds while slurping her milshake.

Malik is Lylas brother and a good friend of yours. Even Judy likes him, and that's saying something.

After the "incident" you tried so hard to find another group of friends, that one day it actually happened.

Which wasnt easy, before ellie you didnt relly need other friends. You also didnt want other ones. You always thought she felt the same way.

Her company, her words, her feelings and thoughts were all you wanted.

"Holy shit im not late!"

Judy's loud voice pulls you out of your thoughts. She quickly sits down next to you and hands you the large french fries package. You grin at her and pass them on to lyla. The loud noises became quieter and quieter, which made you hear the microphone voice.

"Dear seniors and juniors, After weeks full of learning and exams, one last football game with our beloved team and a guest team of their choice should be enough for you. I don't understand why you wanted to have this when every one of you’ve seen so many other games, but as you want. That’s the last one really though, please."

Judy giggles at the voice of the principal, but with empathy rather than mockery.

"Poor Ms. Servopoulos, juniors and seniors are not easy. The Other Class's prank surpassed everything"

lylas eyes widened at the memory. "Which of the 20 One?" She asks, leaning a bit over my lap to hear judy better.

"The one where they all had their tables outside at the_" Judy's bright voice gets stuck in the air, and she looks past me with squinted eyes in dismay.

You know why and didn't want to turn around.

But you do it anyway.

She wore her typical short baggy shorts and a red oversize t shirt with a fucking beanie , which makes her look like the love child of Adam Sandler and Jesse Pinkman.

You’d be happy to laugh at her if she didn't look so fucking good. But you chuckle a bit in your head at the Beanie, because it’s fucking june.

She looks down at you , just standing there.

Ellie has always been a bit taller than you. You might be sitting right know, but you still know That hasn't changed yet. You don't have to get up to be sure. You would notice if she grew even 1 cm. You don't know if she would still recognize that about you.

The familiar, soft and light brown freckles on her face. As a tween you always wanted to connect them, to find out how it would turn out. Or how she would look. Or react. You wanted to make her laugh so bad it hurt.

"Seth told me to bring this too you"

The Ice Caffee, with your name on it, is suddenly right in front of your face.

"Why should I accept it? It's already warm anyway" The irritated pitch in your voice cannot be ignored

Elie's gaze remains neutral, but there was some caution in her expression. "He forced me when I was paying, just take it and throw it away."

"Why didn't you throw it away?"

"Because im at a point where I listen to that old man for my benefits. Seth hates me already. He didn't even tell me about the senior special last week" she protests

You roll your eyes in annoyance.

"i dont give a shit about you or the now hot coffee"

Your argument became more intense, Judy and lyla exchanged glances but stayed out of it. You want to sort out your shit yourself and they know that.

"just fucking throw it away ellie!"

"No, I'm sitting at the top and have to go down all the fucking stairs and-"

"I don't care Ellie"

The people around slowly became aware of the both of you screaming, and you wonder for a second how strange you both must look right now. How you line up like little kids. But ellie also hurt the child version of you. God she has hurt so fucking many versions of you.

"just be happy that I’m even bringing this too you, i didnt really had to do that"

Her hand holds the plastic cup so hard in front of your face that it looks like it's about to explode.

The fact that she thinks she has a right to be angry with you bothers you even more, as you try to hold back your tears. You try to imagine her as adam sandler, screaming at you in this fucked up voice from grown ups, to make the tears go away.

"right i didn’t ask you to do anything, you decided to be so stupid and come over here"

she chuckles sligtly at your words, really pissed now. "you bitch-"

The last words never came out of her mouth. But the coffee out the cup. On your shirt.

Frightened, you take a loud breath in and stand up. Ellie has already put a safe distance between the both of you and her own mouth is open with surprise and startle.

Behind her stands a paralyzed Joshua, with his hand on his mouth.

"I swear, he ran into me...," she babbles desperately to herslef, waving her hands in the air, the empty cup on the floor now. Looks like the rest of the liquor soaked your shoes.

Yo didn’t let her finish. You mumble to lyla and judy not to follow you and that you would call them later. You grabbed your bag and Then left.

And you cried the whole ride home with your mom next to you. And not because of the coffee.

The smoke comes out of your mouth, you take the ciggarette to you lips again, and breathe in deeply.

If you smoke in your room, you always have to lean almost completely out of the window, now with the shadows of the trees falling in your face.

The light, split by the limbs, danced to the movements of the branches. There was a small and almost sweet breeze in the air.

The sun is still shining, but the golden hour is almost here.

You get goose bums on your arm as a cold breeze comes, and you put out the cigarette on your ashtray.

As you lie down on your bed and just stare at the wall for a while, the dark smell of cigarettes is still in the air. your parents don't care as long as it doesn't get into the rest of the house.

You grab a book from your bedside table and start reading.

"And when you at last find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter- they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped darek inside yous so long"

You close the book with a jerk.

Yes, maybe no sylvia plath for today.

The buzzing of your phone makes your head move to the side.

Judy: Malik won

Judy: Tonights a party at the beach, everyones going

Your eyes stare back into the void of your ceiling.

Ellie has had so much influence over you and your feelings for so long, that has to stop at some point. And with all the anger in you, you think that today it will.

You get up and stand in front of your closet, you rummage around to find something and you do. A t shirt that belonged to ellie.

Your fingers brush over the dark green material. It was a fucking normal t shirt. Except that it wasn't.

"Today it will stops"

You put the t-shirt in your backpack and look for an outfit that was well suited for the beach. In the end, you wear short jeans shorts, where your grandma had sewn in flower patterns years ago, With a light blue shirt it goes nicely with the flowers.

you: can you pick me up?

Judy: I would love too :)

You quickly brush your teeth to get rid of the smell of smoke. Outside, you can already hear Judy's honking. You sprint down the stairs with your backpack and look for your beach shoes.

"Where are you going" Your mother is standing behind you with her arms crossed. In her old cardigan, she looked like she did a few years ago and you almost get a déjà vu.

"A party, Judys picking me up"

"how long are you gonna be there?"

"Mom im going to be 18 in what now 4 days you dont have to ask me that anymore"

she scoffs

"yes i do and guess what? i also want you to text me So i know youll be fine"

Nervously, you look out to see if Judy's car is still there, maybe she thinks you've changed your mind.

"Ok, Mom, I'll probably go to Judy's and be gone till midnight."

Suspiciously, she looks at you from head to toe, but (luckily) gives in.

"okay but please call me if something happens. Be smarter than your brother"

Your body flinches at the mention of him. "Has… he called lately?" you murmur

She looked at the floor and you thought for a moment she was going to cry. "No, but maybe if you call him, he'll answer"

You nod, but you know you won't do it.

He doesn't care about you either.

~

"I'm proud that you're coming along" Judy and you are walking, with beer in your arms, towards the beach where a few people have already gathered.

"I mean, that was a great show, a few people definitely noticed it"

You sigh at the unpleasant memory. "Then that's the way it is, I think a few other things are going to happen tonight, that are far more interesting than a girl with coffee on her T-shirt"

"I hope so" A mischievous smile on her face.

You look around to find lyla and malik, But because of all the people, it doesn’t really work. You were sure that there weren't that many seniors and juniors, but that a few friends of others came along. There was a big fire and even a barbecue.

After wandering around for a while, you find the two siblings. They had already made themselves comfortable on the big blanket and had taken some alcohol with them, but the bottles will probably spread over the whole beach anyway.

"Finally I see you, everything ok with you?" Malik mentions as he stands up, giving you a vigorouslyhug. "Really fucked up what happened"

You digress with a wave of your hand and sit down

"im fine, but you won, tell me abou it!" You try to make your voice as shrill as possible to make it clear that you don't want to talk about it.

“oh yeah we won, I made a touchdown, obviouly"

"almost didn’t catch it tho" throws lyla into the round and you giggle.

"Shut up, we only won our last game Ever, Because of me!”

Pride, but also the quiet pain of the loss of his team, can be noticed on his face andin his voice. The reality that you try so hard to run away from hits you again. high school is over, real life begins now.

“whatever, im getting something to drink and then im gonna tell sam to put on some music” Lyla ties you back into the moment. "I'm going with you , I need a drink of Voda-Coke"

~

Later that night Mr. Brightside was what got you on your feet and into the crowd.

Mesmerizingly, the fire flares higher and leaves just light trail of smoke behind. Malik and Judy are now singing along loudly with the others.

All these people who so clumsily sing the song about a heartbroken man, as if they would die if they don't do it, carry the same fate with them. They will all wake up tomorrow with a headache and worries about the next day. as it is one day closer to real life.

Some have broken families or parents, complicated friends, grief and draining fear of the future.

Knowing that it was like that but everyone was still singing along motivates you to do it too.

"Here more vodka has to work not taste good" Judy pours more vodak into your cup, but misses more than ends up in it.

Now you just laugh, because why did you thought so long about everything, this night was a good decision.

"I need to dance like I physically need to dance"

She grabs Malik's arm as he pours more beer next to her.

“let’s danceee!"

Lyla stands next to you, grinning and sober, and you both watch her.

"he likes her"

Lyla explains

"I know" you reply.

“That’s fucked up”

She looks a bit worried, as she watches the two of them dance and sing, with her arms crossed

"is that bad? or are you the "dont date my fucking brother" type of girl, please dont be by the way its always a bit-"

Your brain is mush, your tongue works on its own and Lyla obviously didn't like that

"no of course not, i don't care about him or who he dates"

The light from the fire reflected on her skin, she looked like a painting drawn at sunset and you wished you had your camera with you. It would be a shot of a very sad girl, with a lot of repressed feelings that she will never explain to a human soul.

But she didn't have to, because you understand.

You once looked at someone like that, from a distance where these looks were not visible to the person, where they were safe.

Comforting her was your first thought, dumb decision because a drunk person comforting a sober one never works out.

"I'm sure judy likes you back"

Alarm bells could be seen in her eyes.

"shut up you don't know that"

you laugh but it sounds unstable.

“No your right I don’t”

It looked like a lot of fun, everyone singing and drinking away their worries, you just wanted to join the dancing crowd when you see her. Again.

Fast an quickly, just ignore her, act like you didn’t see her.

But your eyes lock with hers and your stomach sinks.

In that moment you wish you could just admit that Ellie will always be a part of your mind. Wherever you are, with whomever, she will always appear In your mind and she will haunt you.

The worst thing is that it was also your fault, you allowed this relationship to be far too deep and perplexed even though you knew that it was becoming too emotional.

Ellie's presence on the other side of the fire, fills you with all those deeply buried feelings, as if she dug them up with her own hands. As if you told her where you buried them.

“I really don't understand you two"

with a snap you arrive back on planet earth.

"what?"

"the both of you. starring at each other, like you're about to run through fire to be just a bit closer. Makes me want to puke" lyla repeats.

Disbelief and vulnerability spreads through your chest and all those lights are too bright, the music is too loud and Ellie is too close.

"It's ok to forgive, we don't even know what happened so be honest, how bad was it?"

brushing all those feelings off, or at least trying to, you turn around and disappear into the darkness.

In a kind of trance you push your way through the many people, a few call after you, and you are sure that you have run into someone. You just didn't notice anything about it.

You stop in front of the many cars. You used to drive with your father to the local supermarket or other short distances, but you're not willing to steal a car.

Your head turns to the right then left, looking for something, anything that will take you away from here.

Cars, skateboards and bicycles.

Without thinking about it, you grab an unchained bike and get on it. The adrenaline in your veins works on its own and has far too much influence on your body.

It took some time to get stable on it, because the tears in your eyes made it difficult to see. Nobody seems to have noticed that you ran away and that you are riding a bike that doesn't belong to you.

The road was pitch black dark.

The warm summer wind wipes your tears away, the bright street lights of the city can be seen in the distance.

You step on the pedals and realize that you have arrived on the local road.

Out of breath, you press your fingers on the brake lever.

Desperately trying to get your lungs to return to normal, mind concentrate on the outline of your shadow that was visible on the floor, because of the street lanterns.

You get off the bike in silence, put it down next to you on the sidewalk and sit down.

The pumping of your veins feels like electricity.

You could still hear a few cars in the background.

You brush away strands of hair from your forehead.

“Fuck” you hear yourself whisper.

The tears were just about to come back when you hear a car turning.

She still drives Joel's old truck.

The vehicle stops in front of your feet and you notice that some of the light green paint has rusted off.

That wasn't the case the last time you saw that thing.

Ellie slams the car door loudly behind her, so she looks back to see if everything is still fine.

The feeling of shame just bubbles out of you and drips onto the floor, as she steps in front of you with even louder steps.

your head lifts up just a bit, to look at her. Her nose is a bit crooked and she's breathing just as fast as you were a few seconds ago, it looks a bit like she was running after you.

“What the fuck are you doing”

Ellie Williams will always come from the far corner of the world and remind you that you will never let go of her.

The effects of the alcohol still had an influence on your brain, so you stay calm.

“calming down"

For a few seconds it's eerily quiet, for a moment you thought Ellie had left again, but the squeaking of her sneakers prove the opposite. Her body settles down next to you.

"You look really stupid, sitting here like that."

You scoff mockingly.

"yes, that's exactly why you're sitting next to me bitch"

"don't fucki-"

"Don’t act so innocent, remember what you said today before you spilled my coffee on my shirt”

Her head turns to you, sweet regret and longing in her moss green eyes. She scans the bike next to you.

"i think i stole that" the embaressment goes up your cheeks.

"yeah totally badass, but we have to bring that back later" she chuckles softly.

The bright beam of light from the lantern above you gives her face an bright tint , like the beach sun always did in the evening.

"sorry... about the coffee, joshua ran into me and-"

"Yes, I know you've said that before"

She drops her head. No idea why she's sitting here, but you don't mind. you just wanted to capture her and keep her close to you, like a butterfly.

"your brother called me" Ellie mentions it so casually that it shocks you to the bone.

He can even call her but not you. After she just sat down, you were as close as ever.

"what did he say"

"He wants us to come visit him."

Her pupils were large, but you assumed it was because she just drove a dark route and not because she was high. She's way too lucid to be high.

"why? and why the both of us?"

Ellie shrugs her shoulders cluelessly

"He said that we would like Florida, that he was getting a new apartment next week and that we should visit him. You didn't tell him anything about me?"

"I haven't told him anything Ellie, we haven't been able to get in touch with him for months"

You can clearly see from her expression that it makes as little sense to her as it does to you, which worries you even more. something is wrong.

You can feel how your hands shaking, you tried to tell yourself that your just cold.

"Alex said that he tried to call you and your parents, but the line never got through, fuck he even reached Joel"

You continue to shake and Ellie gently grabs your shoulder like she has often before, when you were lost in your head, when you were so afraid of roller coasters that you almost vomited or when you cried because Alex moved out 3 years ago.

Ellie's own security was always an anchor for you, when things got too confusing she strengthened you and even though you didn't talk to each other for almost a year, she still decided to tell you that your brother was fine.

That he wants you with him.

Sometimes, on the particularly melancholic nights when loneliness and nostalgia take over, you read Sylvia's poems and it just clicks. That all because this girl with her hair that is way too short and her pants that are way too big and her full lips, her unhealthy obsession with the universe and planets, exists on the same time as you.

“There’s gonna be a explanation or a reason whatever but just calm down for now okay?”

her voice is suppressed but still safe. yes the Ellie Anchor effect, fuck that shit

“Okay yes your right what the fuck”

“Yeah I can be right sometimes”

“ I Doubt that”

Her lips pucker upwards and yours follow suit. you are still too close to each other, it all feels too new and yet too nostalgic.

The old patterns gave your heart a little sting, you quickly shook off her hand on your shoulder. You clear your throat, thanking the universe or whoever there is that it's night.

Otherwise Ellie wouldn't have been able to miss your red cheeks. In your mind you beat yourself up because you still feel this way after everything she did.

"Show me your phone"

Your hand goes protectively to your back trouser pocket. "um no?!"

Ellie Scoffs thinking your joking, but when she sees that you’re serious, she laughs.

"just give it? the fuck do you think im gonna do"

"I don't know"

With a little nudge to your foot, she gives you that look again that shows trust and you give in.

"fine"

It's a little painful for you, this morning you had a mental crisis because of her, now you letting her scroll through your contacts.

"yeah, sorry to disappoint you, but this is not your bros number"

But that must be his.

Your parents gave it to you.

Oh.

"show me" you said firmly, having a really fucked up scenario in your head, about why this is the wrong number.

Ellie takes out her phone and shows you your brother's contact. chats, phone calls, everything is there. the one from this week too.

"this doesn't make any sense, I just- I don't get it"

"Your parents gave you the number?"

You nod, "My mom said, a few Months ago he had to change his number, in the beginning we texted a bit but never really called"

your eyes switch from her phone to yours to check the numbers again and again .

"After a few days, he didn't get in touch at all, with no one. We thought he was just done with his old life." you pronounce the words and your stomach turns.

Ellie's eyes stare thoughtfully at the asgap in front of you. You're helplessly trying to build up eye contact to figure out what you're thinking.

"I think they lied to you… He said something like this could happen" She says it so fucking sure.

You couldn't take in any more and you get up with your eyes are watering "What the fuck are you talking about Ellie" Your voice broke with the trust in your parents, even Ellie looks at you sympathetically.

"Alex said on the phone that he has been trying to reach someone from home for a long time, but it doesn't work. He was so desperate that he even called me and joel. Do you think your parents or your mom-"

you raise your hand to tell her not to finish the sentence. "Why… would they do that?"

She gets up and comes closer to you. "He mentioned that your mother said he shouldn’t call her anymore or you anymore, that even you don't him in your life anymore"

It feels like your whole past is falling apart, all the beautiful moments with your family, you even want the bad memories back.

"Hey"

Ellie's soft fingertips gently touch the back of your hand. Roughness was still there, she hasn`t stopped playing guitar.

"lets run away"

a/n: omg, the chapters are gonna be shorter next time and we’re also on the road PLS STICK W IT

(and reblog😍)

anyways if you’ve come this far ur a real survivor thanks 🫶

@yourelliewillms @bready101 @liasxeatt @darkerstarsstuff @elliezato @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @lovelyxbaby @yalaysbee @macaroni676

[racergirl-112]

Push Me Over - Chapter 4: So It Goes...

18++++++***** MDNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WARNINGS: SMUT. Mentions of death. P n V, unprotected (wrap it up folks). Oral receiving, fingering. but really this is the chapter you've been waiting for. 😘🥵🥵 *** I wrote this chapter to the song So it Goes by Taylor Swift**

(not my picture. Photo cred: Pinterest)

Dani got home a little later. She spent the night tossing and turning, thinking about Hugh and the super hot kiss they shared. The words he said to her, making her mind race. He had asked her to maybe get coffee and maybe if they did that and she got to know him, it would help get him out of her mind. She decided she was going to ask him that day. 

After the grueling day of filming they had, Dani saw Hugh walking back to his trailer and decided it was now or never. 

“Hugh,” she called out. He turned around, a smile crossing his face. 

“What’s up darlin’?” he asked. 

“Would you like to get coffee with me?” 

“When?” he asked. 

“Now? Or whenever you’re done?” she replied. 

“Let me get changed.” 

“Cool, I’ll be in my trailer.” 

As she waited for Hugh in her trailer, scrolling her phone, her heart began to race. It was going to be just the two of them. It’s fine. You’re just co-stars, maybe potential friends. Get him out of your system, he’s old enough to be your father. She was lost in her overthinking when there was a knock on her trailer door. 

“Come in,” she said, as the door began to swing open. Hugh walked in, wearing his signature tight black t-shirt and jeans. Goddammit he’s fine. 

“Hi darlin’. Are you ready?” he asked. Dani nodded. They began to walk over to where their cars were parked. “Want me to drive?” 

“That’s fine,” she answered. A smile crossed his face as he opened the passenger door for her. She had a surprised look on her face when he got in the car. 

“What’s the look for?” he asked with a laugh. 

“I’ve never had a guy do that for me before and I’m from the South,” she replied. Hugh started up the car as they took off. 

“Well, sounds like you haven’t been around real gentlemen.” The comment took Dani aback, but it made her smile as they looked for a coffee shop. 

A little while later, they found a perfect little coffee shop out of the way as they sat there together. 

“Other than you being extremely feisty and can fucking sing, tell me more about yourself,” Hugh started. Dani looked taken aback, but she was ready. She took a sip of her latte and began talking. 

“Well, I’m originally from Georgia. My real name is Danielle Olivia James-Levy, but because of the Levy acting family, I chose to go by Danielle James, my mother’s maiden name. I went to school for Business, thinking I wasn’t going to go into the family business, but fell in love with theater when I was there and got a dual major.” 

“Wow, beautiful and smart. I knew you acted, but I didn’t know you did theater. Is that where the singing comes from?,” Hugh asked, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Yeah, it’s something I don’t get to do a whole lot of. I would do small shows in between acting gigs, while working a real job, until something happened. The singing thing on the other hand, that’s something I’ve done since I was kid. I’d walk around singing, enough for everyone to tell me to shut up once in a while.” She looked over at Hugh who couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “So, enough about me. How about you?” 

He raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. “Well, there isn’t too much about me that you can’t find online. Well, other than what I mentioned to you the other day.” 

“I’m sorry you’re going through that. Do you want to talk about it?” Dani asked. Hugh’s eyes got soft, almost like sadness came through them. 

“We don’t have to sweetheart,” he started. 

“You listened to me and I promised you I’d listen,” a warm smile crossed her face. 

“Well, my ex-wife and I had been married for almost 27 years. We met back on a TV show in Australia. She was older and I thought she was out of my league, but it worked out. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to have biological children of our own, but we adopted two wonderful kids. Now that the kids are older and have their own lives, I guess during Covid, we were spending so much time together, it felt more like a friendship than a marriage and got worse during the writer’s strike. We did everything we could to save it, but we both felt like the relationship had run its course. It just feels weird.” 

“Like you’ve been in the relationship so long, you don’t know where to go next. I mean I’ve had my share of relationships, but nothing of that caliber. I commend you for making a relationship work in Hollywood, especially when you’re as big a star as you are.You just don’t see that anymore.” “That’s very sweet,” he answered. “I’m curious about something you didn’t mention. Shawn is your Uncle, how’s the relation work?” 

Dani took a long sip of her latte before beginning. “Well, My dad was Shawn’s older brother, but passed away in a car accident when I was 25. It was something we asked to keep out of the public and the reason I shelved my dreams for a while. My mom still lives in Georgia with her new husband, finally happy again.” She looked over at him and he had a surprised look on his face.

His hand reached across the table, grabbing hers. “I’m sorry about you dad, sweetheart. I lost mine in 2020, his eyes meeting hers. The more she was around this man, she was finding it harder to not want to be with him. Fuck the age difference. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry about your dad too,” she replied as he squeezed her hand. She kept looking over at him, not being able to take her eyes off of the gorgeous man in front of her and it looked like he was on the same page. “I guess it's getting late.” 

He nodded as they left the cafe and got into his car. He opened her door for her as he took off. He turned on some music and So it Goes… by Taylor Swift began to drift through the radio. She glanced over at Hugh driving and felt her heart racing, not knowing what was going to happen next. He caught her stare as his hand reached over and found her leg. They stopped at a red light as Dani went for it. 

“Hugh,” she breathed, coming over the center console and kissing him. He reciprocated, but then the light changed. “I’m sorry…,” she started. Before she could get the words out, he pulled the car over in a dark alley as he came over the center console and kissed her. Their lips and tongues in a hot tangled mess. Dani reached for anything she could, to be closer to this man. He pulled back and cupped her face. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop myself and I won’t unless you want me to,” he started. 

“Your place or mine?” Dani breathed. Hugh drove to his flat immediately. 

They all but kicked down the door to his flat as they stayed intertwined. The second the door shut behind them, Hugh picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Her legs wrapped around his waist, as his hands cupped her ass, their kissing, feverish. 

As they fell on the bed, he braced himself above her, getting lost in her green eyes. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. She nodded her head as she sat up and yanked her shirt over her head followed by her bra and threw them on the floor. He followed suit and his shirt ended up in the pile on the floor. He went for the waistband of her leggings, slowly pulling them down with her panties. “Fuck,” he groaned, taking in the naked woman in his bed. 

“Pants off, Jackman,” she ordered, a smirk on her face. 

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, undoing his belt, and kicking off his pants and boxers, crawling over her. 

Dani propped herself up on her elbows and looked at the man in front of her. He may be 55 years old, but he was built like a fucking god. From the way his muscles bulged to the way his v-line was sculpted. Then she caught sight of the happy trail of hair that led to his perfect dick. God he was huge. 

He began kissing her lips before moving to her neck, making her arch into him. He liked her reaction as he continued down her body, to her breasts as he circled each peak with his tongue, while never breaking eye contact. 

“Fuck,” she moaned. He added to her pleasure as she felt the pad of his finger on her clit. 

“Sweetheart, so wet for me,” he groaned, moving down her body and to her pussy. His tongue began soft strokes, before he plugged right in. She cried out at that feeling as she grabbed for his hair as he pulled her down to the end of the bed to devour her even more. The feeling of his facial hair added to the pleasure. 

This man has experience. 

“I can’t…,” she cried out, letting her orgasm go. 

“God, you taste so good sweetheart,” he replied, wiping her juices from his beard and moving back over her. He stilled above her for a moment, realizing something. “Princess, I wasn’t planning on sex tonight, so I’m not prepared.” 

“I’m on birth control, Hugh. I need you too much to stop now,” Dani answered, pulling him down to her as their lips locked and she tasted herself on him. His long fingers found her soaking core as he began pumping just enough to get her honey on him as he stroked it down his cock. He grabbed ahold of himself as he teased her with his tip at her entrance. 

“You ready sweetheart?” he asked. Dani nodded as he began to push himself inside. He stilled for a moment at how tight she was and that if he began to move, he might just bust. 

“Move, please,” she begged. His hips began to move slowly, savoring every moment with Dani. The hold this woman had on him in a short amount of time was baffling, but god, did he feel something with her. Her lips on his, her nails digging into his back, the way she molded to him. 

Dani’s hip movements began to meet his own and he felt like he might be a goner. He grabbed her hands with his, interlacing their fingers, pressing them into the mattress sending them both spirling and fast. “God sweetheart, you are fucking perfect,” he said, kissing her. 

Her heart began to race again as electricity shot through her body at his words and his movements as she clenched down on him and hard. He wanted to be as close to her as possible as his forehead touched hers as he knew he was done for. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, as he chased his own release, white-hot ropes, coating her insides. He finished as he stayed locked on her, both panting and sweaty. The connection between the two of them, intensifying. He pulled out as their releases flooded out of Dani, turning Hugh on even more. He got out of bed to his bathroom to clean up and brought her back a towel. 

“Sorry, the old man hasn’t done this in a while, so I wasn’t prepared,” he said with a laugh, getting back in bed. 

“You’re fine,” she replied. 

“Come here,” he said, offering his arm. Dani moved over and cuddled into him as he kissed her forehead. “Did the old man do ok?” he asked. 

“More than ok. You were fucking phenominal,” she replied, drawing circles on his chest and feeling across his toned abs. “Can I tell you something?” He raised an eyebrow at her question. 

“Sure, sweetheart.” 

“First of all, stop calling yourself old man. Second, I may have known what you looked like from your movies, but until I saw you at dinner, I never knew how attracted I was to you. I went home that night and the night after you came to my trailer and got myself off to the thoughts of you.”

Hugh began stroking her hair. “Well, sweetheart, that’s definitely not what I thought you were going to say, but since the night of the dinner, I can’t be in a room and not think about the bad things I want to do to you.” 

“So, it sounds like we’re on the same page,” she answered, putting her head on his chest. 

“Yes sweetheart, it does,” he answered. Hugh interlaced their hands, wrapping his arms tighter around her, knowing that with Dani he felt a new chapter of happiness. 

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: stalker/ unsuccessful kidnap, violence, depictions of blood and assault (let me know if I should add more)

Chapter Word Count: 2318

—-MDNI—-

A/N: Sooooo I’m sorry it’s not spicy like I said it would be… But I absolutely promise the next one will be! Chapters 5 and 6 were supposed to be just one chapter but it got too long so I had to split it… And again please let me know of any errors because this is only proof read by myself.

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Please Read the Below First:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

I’m Not You’re F*cking Maid

Chapter 5

After thorough interviewing of the staff and regular patrons; long searches through copious auction records and meticulous studying of the items in the shop we narrowed our search down to one item: an old jade hairpin. The hairpin belonged to a young lady who was given the gift as a wedding present, however when she found out on her wedding night that her new husband was having an affair, she stabbed him to death with it before jumping to her own demise from their third floor balcony. That was just over a century ago, and she was still wreaking havoc on unfaithful men to this day.

“I mean I get where she’s coming from,” I shrugged as we walked back to the motel. Both brothers turned to look at me with concern smeared over their features. “OBVIOUSLY I don’t agree with all the murder,” they breathed a sigh of relief, “but you can’t hate her for being mad. I would be too.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Dean said, raising his eyebrows a little and holding his hands up. I gave him a look of bewilderment.

“What side do you think you’re on, Dean? Because this,” I gestured between us, “isn’t my good side.” He mumbled something incoherent as we got to the motel so I chose to ignore him completely.

“So what’s the plan? It’s getting late and we can’t really do anything now until that charity event taking place at the auction house tomorrow. We’re already pretty clued up on how to get rid of ghosts so there’s really not much to do except to get both your names on that guest list,” Sam patted his laptop, looking at both of us.

“Food?” Dean and I said at the same time.

“Food sounds good,” Sam nodded. The boys turned around to leave when I stopped them.

“Just whilst we’re still at the motel, I’m just going to freshen up real quick.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “really?” I flipped him the bird.

“I can just meet you there? There’s like only one diner in this town and I know the way. I won’t be long.” The brothers looked at each other for a few seconds before Sam looked at me and smiled.

“Sure ok, we’ll get a seat in the window so we can see you coming.”

“Great! I’ll see you soon,” I grinned at the younger Winchester before turning away and letting myself into my room.

I had the worlds quickest shower and threw on some clean underwear and a clean top, feeling better after getting the grime from the day off. I pulled on my jeans, socks and boots, applied a small amount of eyeliner and mascara and tidied my hair the best I could before slinging on my jacket and applying some perfume to my wrists and neck. It was one of my favourite scents: I’d bought it from some lingerie store a year or so ago and it’s apparently one of those aphrodisiac perfumes, however I have no idea if it even works or not. It’s probably a scam, nothing works that well in real life.

After I’d finished sorting myself out - which took no longer than half an hour - I grabbed my phone and keys and left the room, locking up before making my way towards the diner. Night had descended, the air turning cold against my warm skin and the usually busy streets now lay deserted and car-free. It was only about a five minute walk or so from the motel and I was now only about a minute away when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. I’d caught a glimpse of a figure dressed from head to toe in black in the reflection of several shop windows, and they were following my exact trail. I sped up, walking faster down the empty main road and hoping it was all a coincidence as worst case scenarios started to race through my mind. It wasn’t long until the diner was in sight and I breathed a sigh of relief, however the relief was short lived when those footsteps were getting closer and closer, quicker and quicker right behind me. It dawned on me that this wasn’t a coincidence at all - I was definitely being stalked. I started to run, my legs moving before my brain had kicked into gear and I was only inches from the front door when the stranger caught up, slamming me against the wall of the building and putting a knife to my throat, covering my mouth with a gloved hand.

“Don’t make a fucking noise - you’re coming with me,” he said aggressively yet quietly. I could feel the blade of the knife pressing against the soft skin of my neck and I couldn’t help but feel tears well in my eyes, my breath turning shaky as my heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t even get any words out as his hand was too tight over my lips.

I wanted to cry out for help so badly it hurt.

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that this was all a bad dream. My cheek was pushed into the rough brick which grazed my skin, and I silently prayed for my attacker to just let me go or for some hero to come and save me. At that very moment I heard the door to the diner and my eyes shot open, instantly connecting with Deans. I watched as surprise turned to horror which then turned to pure feral rage on his face and before I even had a chance to blink he was gone from my line of sight - but so was the pressure keeping me pinned against the wall. I spun around and I watched Dean throw the stalker to the floor with more force that I thought he could muster and tower over him. Dean didn’t say a word, but the stranger let out a sharp cry of pain as Dean instantly brought his boot down on his ribs. There was a CRACK. He did it again.

And again.

And again.

And then he got down and pinned my attacker flush against the tarmac before he brought a closed fist down on his face over and over and over again, cracking his jaw and breaking his nose. Dean didn’t stop until the man was totally unrecognisable and unresponsive. Standing up off of his limp body, he looked over to me, his furious, almost animalistic stare softening instantly, even through all the blood that now painted his face. He took one step towards me before my feet worked on their own and carried me straight to him. I put my arms out to reach for him and he grabbed my hands and pulled me into his chest with zero hesitation, his arms circling me and his blood-soaked palms gently stroking my hair. I sobbed. I sobbed from the fear I felt, I sobbed for feeling like such a victim and I sobbed for the relief I now felt flooding my veins as Dean held me, not saying a word. Listening to his heartbeat with my ear to his chest, I felt so safe and secure that it made me want to sob even more.

*

Dean ended up taking me straight back to my room - he called Sam to tell him what had happened as he wasn’t going to be returning to the diner. I had my second shower of the day as soon as we returned, wanting to scrub everywhere that horrible man had touched. Whilst I was washing, Dean had headed back to his own room to shower off the layer of blood coating his skin. After I was satisfactorily clean, I dried myself and dressed in that old T-shirt I wore the night before, pulling on some fresh underwear and perching on the end of the bed. I picked up the remote and started mindlessly flicking through channels, hoping to find something to distract my racing brain.

I’d been sitting in the same position for around ten minutes when there was a gentle knock on the door. I held my breath as I got up and walked over, looking through the peephole. It was Dean. I released that breath as I opened the door and let him in. He’d changed from his usual gruff attire to something way more comfortable - a plain white T-shirt and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. He smiled at me. A kind smile, nothing like those teasing and sly ones we’d been throwing at each other since yesterday. This one was genuine, and it made my chest feel warm. He locked the door behind him as I padded back over to the bed and climbed on it, sitting right in the centre with my legs crossed. I pulled the T-shirt down to cover my dignity as Dean placed a carrier bag in front of me. I peeked inside. It was full to the brim of all different types of snacks and I grinned up at him.

“You sure do know how to treat a girl, Winchester.”

He let out a soft laugh and looked down at the floor before taking residence beside me.

“You’re the first one who thinks so”.

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s a long line of women who definitely think otherwise,” he smiled a slightly sad smile. We both paused before I continued.

“Well if it means anything, what you did for me today, I-” he held a hand up to stop me as he saw the look of fear flit across my features again, the horrid memory bubbling to the surface.

“It was the least I could do,” he said softly before his brows furrowed, “but to be honest I should never have let you out of my sight.” The almost protective tone of his voice made my heart flutter a little, but It was my turn to reassure him as I placed my hand on his shoulder delicately.

“Dean, none of us knew that would happen. I know you wouldn’t have left me alone if you genuinely thought I was in danger - after all, you DID promise to keep me safe from my own shadow,” I flashed him a grin which he quickly returned, chuckling. We sat for a few moments in a strangely comfortable silence before there was another knock at the door. I went to get up to answer it but Dean beat me to it, swinging it open to show a very concerned Sam stood in the doorway. He looked at me with those big ever-worried eyes and I shot him my best ‘please don’t worry’ grin.

“I’m fine, Sam” I called out to him as I tried to listen in on the hushed words Dean was speaking. They conversed for a while, occasionally throwing glances at me as I rustled around in the bag of goodies Dean had supplied. Growing bored of not being involved with their conversation, I scooted back on the bed to lean back on the headboard and proceeded to flick through dozens of channels until I found something decent to watch. A few more minutes had passed and I’d munched my way through almost half a bag of Doritos when I heard the door close and it was just me and Dean again. He had a paper bag that Sam must’ve passed him, which he held up and pointed to.

“The blood stains came out of my clothes, although Sam said the people in the laundromat were giving him strange looks,” he laughed slightly, those striking eyes of his looking down into mine as he took a few steps closer. I laughed slightly, only imagining Sam’s awkwardness in that situation. I broke my gaze away from Dean for a few seconds, looking down at my hands before looking back up. I could tell he was hovering now, just waiting for me to say something.

“Dean I’m fine, you don’t have to stay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if you need me to” his hand ran over the stubble on his chin, his eyes not leaving me.

“Really, I’m ok. I’m probably just going to sit here and watch whatever this is-”

“It’s obviously Men in Black,” Dean scoffed. I smiled, finding comfort in the familiar snarky remark.

“Obviously - I don’t live under a rock Dean,” I rolled my eyes as I stood up, placing my hands on his chest. He was so warm to the touch that it was almost enticing me not to let go. The gentle thrum of his heartbeat was so soothing. But I did let go, and I spun him around to start ushering him to the door. As he was leaving, I grabbed my half eaten bag of chips and started munching again. He opened the door, stepping outside.

“Go back to your room Dean. I promise I’m ok. I don’t want you both hovering over me constantly making sure I’m fine; that will just make me feel worse,” I said as he spun to face me, nodding his head.

“Back to normal. Got it.”

“Great,” I said, sucking the tangy chip dust from my thumb. Dean suddenly reached out and snatched the half-eaten bag from my hand before quickly walking away.

“I’ll see you in the morning!” He shouted back at me before shovelling food into his mouth.

“You ass! I was eating those!” He shrugged in an overly animated fashion, not bothering to turn and look at me as he continued towards his room. I sighed, closing the door and locking it, sliding the chain across this time too. I padded back towards the bed and climbed in, pulling the covers up to my chin. As I started to drift off, the buzz of the movie still playing in the background, I smiled a little to myself:

Fucking Winchester.

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Up Next:

Chapter 6

[bvtbxtch]

Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Part 2: Graduation)

Series Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?

Chapter Summary: Ditching Eddie and Chrissy might have been the best decision you ever made. You were now graduated, had a great group of friends and a new found confidence. But even though it was a great choice, you still felt a piece of your heart missing. With a few mysterious phone calls and a box full of things, maybe you were right in feeling a little cautious about your choice to leave the metalhead alone.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N

Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.

Word Count: 11.5k (SORRY)

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON THIS LITTLE STORY. Thank you for being patient with me as well. I was not anticipating in it taking a month to get this part out but I have had some health issues that really had to take precedent first before I could relax and start writing. Thank you so much to everyone who reached out to see if I was okay <3 I did just want to mention that after this part, I will NOT be adding a taglist. You are all so incredibly supportive but I have been (still) getting DMs and replies about being on the taglist and I am feeling a little overwhelmed. I will be making a masterlist and when I do make that, I will add everyone from the AH taglist <3 thank you for understanding!!

Prologue

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

June 1986

You had awaited this day for what seemed forever. You had planned what life after high school was going to look like for you since you were in middle school. Chrissy had infiltrated your plans as soon as you met; you often imagined the two of you moving to Indianapolis, or even to New York. You would get a shitty little apartment together and you would find jobs working in bookstores or coffee shops and have next to no money, but you would be together, and you would be on your own. Eddie also quickly ended up being part of your after school plans. He would move with you, or maybe get an apartment with Gareth and Jeff and then the five of you would go on adventures all over whatever city you overran. That was one of the things you loved the most about Eddie, his ability to find adventure wherever he went and whatever he was doing. Maybe there would be some opportunity for you and Eddie to finally get together-

The two people you never saw your life without were now but distant furniture in your mind. The past month brought you a lot of clarity. You actually hadn’t talked to either Eddie or Chrissy since the day after prom. Chrissy had come up to you the next day, pale face and dark circles around her eyes, but she still was glowing somehow. She laid her head next to your locker and greeted you with a lovestruck sigh.

“Wasn’t prom just an absolute dream?” You slammed your locker and rolled your eyes at her, which made her jump. “What’s up with you?” she pouted. “I want to tell you all about my magical night-”

“Yeah Chris. I know all about your magical night. Okay?” You snapped. She was taken aback. “Go talk about how magical your night was with someone else, got it?” You turned on your heel and walked away from the blonde. You were too angry to be sad. Too empowered to cower under her influence. You deserved better and you knew it. 

“Woah, woah! What is going on? Did I do something?” she jogged after you. You let out a dry laugh and turned to face her. 

“‘He only kissed you back because he felt bad for you” You mocked. Not breaking contact while the light drained from her eyes. Suddenly, her vision clouded with tears. In her drunken haze, she had forgotten the confrontation in the hallway. She knew she shouldn’t have said what she did. Deep down, she knew it was a lie, but she was too insecure to confront Eddie about his feelings for you. Driving you away was easier than her feeling like she was second best.

“Y/N I-”

“You know what Chrissy? I really thought that we were going to be friends forever. I really thought that you would have my back through thick and thin. But you showed me your true colors. You don’t care about me. If you did, you wouldn’t do what you did.”

“Did what I did? You kissed my boyfriend!” She yelped.

“Who you treat like shit, Chrissy! You kept him a secret so you could let Carver think that he had a chance of getting in your pants last night. You immediately took Eddie’s side when he told you what happened, and not trusting your best friend of over a decade.” She shook her head at you in disbelief

“A real friend would have been happy for me to find someone like Eddie -  who makes me happy, and pulls away when he tries to kiss you.” She poked 

“A real friend wouldn’t ever pursue a boy who I’m obviously in love with” It slipped out. You didn’t mean to tell her. You both stood staring at each other through wide, glassy eyes. You took a few breaths and your gaze hardened. 

“I should have said this to you the night you kicked me out of your house. I should have said this to you last night when you let me down. You are a shitty friend, Chrissy Cunningham, and you’re a shitty person. Don’t talk to me ever again.” Before she had any time to respond, you turned and strutted to your next class. Your heart hurt, but it felt so good to be confident enough in yourself, to be able to tell her how you really feel. She was done growing and flourishing, you had just started.

Eddie was too cowardly to come talk to you about what happened. He was so painfully in love with you, he couldn’t stand to see you get hurt again. So he admired you from afar, secretly cheering you on, as Chissy now interlocked her arm with his down the hallways. He was tired of making wrong decisions so he let the decisions be made for him. He couldn’t help feel a pang of desperation as graduation grew closer and closer, and the one person he wanted to be around drifted further and further out of his reach.

You slipped on the scratchy green polyester gown, refusing to fasten your cap to your freshly curled hair until you got to the school. Your wedges felt foreign in comparison to your regular Reeboks and you were compulsively checking your compact mirror to ensure your lipstick was perfect. You were so excited to get the formal convocation over with to go party at Gareth’s house. You strolled into the gym to be greeted by a group of drama friends, you all shared niceties and took a few pictures with the polaroid you toted with you. You had formed a small circle of friends in the last month of classes. Although they weren’t Gareth’s cup of tea, he was happy to invite them to the afterparty if it meant that you had more incentive to be there with him. Since cutting off Eddie and Chrissy, you spend way more time in the theatre during lunches and with Gareth afterschool and before Hellfire. Old you would have hoped that Eddie saw and was jealous. New you didn’t give half a shit. 

You heard a familiar voice call your name and as you craned your neck to make eye contact, you broke from the crowd to run into Gareth’s embrace.

“Wow, Emerson! Thought I would never see you in a cap and gown!” You teased, but beamed up at him.

“Shut up… You look great” he smiled back at you. You quickly took your camera from around your neck and held it up to get both of your faces in frame.

“One for the books” you quipped. He rubbed your back affectionately as the microphone on the stage squealed. You found your seat and begrudgingly put your cap on. As you scanned the chairs for any more friends, your eyes fell to the door, where Eddie and Chrissy came walking in hand-in-hand. As angry as you were, you were happy to see Eddie finally succeeding in graduating. It brought warmth to your cheeks and a small smile to your lips. What you didn’t expect is for him to make eye contact with you. You froze. His gaze was soft, almost yearning. He raised a hand to you and offered a small grin. You waved back, too stunned to smile. He looked good. He looked happy. It filled you with melancholy for a moment before you broke eye contact and put your thoughts back together. You were here to succeed for you. You had friends that loved and appreciated you for you. You were going to go run amuck in a new city and find other people who loved you. And it all started here and now. You were going to grab that diploma, get blasted, and get the hell out of Hawkins. 

Your name was called and you walked across the stage. A louder-than-you-were-expecting applause erupted, along with whoops and hollers from Jeff and Gareth, and the hellfire freshmen that were in the audience. You bowed as your tassel was flipped and caught gorgeous brown eyes staring up at you again, clapping wildly and grinning. He was genuinely proud of you, you could tell. He was sorry, you could tell. When it was his turn to walk the stage, you were one of the few that clapped for him. But you stood up and gave him a loud cheer. You were proud of him, he could tell. As he hopped down from the stage, he ran up to Chrissy’s spot- where she held her diploma in her manicured hands  - and picked her up. He planted a kiss on her lips while he ran out of the gym. As much as you have grown, you wished it was you he was kissing, carrying out. You let the thought leave as their silhouettes vanished. It was time to party and forget about feelings. 

Gareth’s house was bustling. Music was blasting throughout the house and it was rattling in your ribcage. Your head was swimming with the ‘punch’ you had already consumed while playing flip cup and beer pong. You laughed with your friends, so truly glad to be able to forget about the impending doom of real life and have fun with your favorite people. You slinked your way through the crowd over to Gareth, who was tending the punch bowl. He smiled at you and handed you another solo cup. 

“Having fun?” he asked. You wrapped your arm around his waist and rested your head on his chest. He threw his arm around your shoulders, putting a little too much weight on you. He was drunk as well. You giggled

“This is the best party. Thanks for hosting, Garebear” you slur.

“Woah woah, Garebear? Absolutely not.” he scolds, pulling away from you. You let out a full chuckle as you clink your cup with his and down your drink.

Your night progressed to telling embarrassing stories in the living room over a game of Jenga. Your head was spinning and as much as you liked this feeling of weightlessness, you were afraid you were going to drift away. You pushed off of the couch and weaved your way through the crowds to the back door. You slid open the screen and you were gratefully met with a cool summer breeze. It was still warm, but the wind gave you goosebumps. You sighed with content and closed your eyes as you leaned onto the deck’s banister. 

“Having fun?”

Your eyes shot open and you looked over your right shoulder. In the shadows of the small outdoor light, you saw a tall, slender figure, and the outline of long, frizzy hair. Your smile faltered. He stepped into the light and took a drag from his cigarette

“Yeah, um… Sorry for disturbing you” you turned to walk back into the house

“Wait-” he grabbed your shoulders and turned you to him. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt like you were going to be sick. You were too close; Intoxicatingly close. You could smell the cigarettes on his breath.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” You blurted out. He pulled his hands away and took a step back like you had burnt him. He looked guilty but sorrowful.

“Uh, we decided to go to different parties tonight.” He mumbled. You chuckled and glared into his soft brown eyes. 

“So she didn’t want you to ruin the vibes of her ‘perfect party?”

“No, that’s not it! I just- I wanted to come here because… well because I miss you, and I miss hanging out in a group and I just wanted to come apologize, and, and I knew you wouldn’t hear me out if she was here too.” he panted. You could tell from his pleading eyes that he was serious. Your shoulders relaxed. 

“Eddie, you don’t need to apologize to me, for anything. You got everything you’ve wanted. You graduated, and I am so, so proud of you for that. You got your band and your sheep. And… you have Chrissy. She’s a hot commodity... and you’re lucky to have each other. So you have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I hurt you-”

“And I’m over it. Look, I have no ill will against you, Eddie, but I think we just need to run in different circles for a while.” You murmured, eyes glued to your converse. 

“I-is… is that what you really want?” Eddie took a step towards you. 

NO “Yeah. I have a really great group of friends that love me for me. They don’t need anything else from me but me.”

“You’re still hanging around with Gareth, right?” Eddie hardens. 

“Yeah. I am. He’s been the best friend I could ask for. He takes good care of me.”

“I’ll make sure he keeps taking care of you. I’ll kill him if he hurts you…”

“Save it, Eddie. I am so over your knight-in-shining-armor bullshit. You hurt me. You don’t get to decide who I hang out with or how I’m treated. You had a choice… You chose. So… deal with it.” The alcohol gave you more courage than you needed, but you weren’t mad. You were at peace. You turned and went back to the party. You didn’t realize, but that was just the way you needed to end your night. Closure and clarity. You returned to your spot beside Gareth to play another round of flip cup. Eddie selfishly couldn’t take his eyes off you. When he saw Gareth pick you up in a congratulatory hug, he gritted his teeth. He couldn’t stand picturing your story with Gareth and not him. So he slung back his last beer and stormed out the front door. 

July 1986

The Hideout was never your favorite place to be. It looked like nothing more than a shack from the side of the highway that cut through Hawkins. Half of the lights on the neon side were burnt out, you doubted they had been changed since the joint opened in the 50s. The small bar had a few booths as well as tall bar tables, which were moved to create a makeshift dance floor in front of a dingy stage. The drum kit and microphones barely fit onto it, but you were sure that the ragtag group that made up Corroded Coffin would make it work. They always did before. There were three pool tables in the back of the space, behind the dark linoleum island bar. They had definitely seen better days, most of them missing pieces of velvet or pockets missing nets to catch balls underneath them. They were usually used for bikers or regulars to sit girls on them and make out. The bar smelt stale, like rotting wood, old beer and sweat. There are many places that you would rather be, but when your best friend begs you to make their regular crowd of 10-11 people (including staff) a person or two bigger, you go. Gareth treaded the idea of you coming to the show lightly, as you had not talked to their frontman since the graduation party. You felt no ill will and really didn’t mind being around him. You got your closure, and you were there for Gareth. No need to think too much into it. 

You had seen Eddie around Hawkins in the last month. You had gotten a job at Family Video and would regularly work with Steve and Robin, who Eddie frequented. Your heart didn’t hurt when they talked about him anymore, and when he occasionally showed up to Family Video, or you saw him in Starcourt, or in the grocery store, you gave him the same curt but friendly smile every time. He understood the boundaries that you had given him. Friendly, but not friends. He always smiled back, but his heart sank. He missed you more than you could know.

You shuffled yourself into the closest booth to the stage and waited in soft anticipation. You hadn’t been to a Corroded Coffin show in months. It felt odd but familiar. You ordered yourself a rum and coke and absently sipped it as you listened to the Johnny Cash record that was playing on the jukebox.

You heard the door swing open behind you and a bubbly chuckle ring out through the bar. A sound that you definitely would not picture hearing in a place like this. You turned around to see Chrissy. Of course she would be here. Her strawberry blonde hair was curled in perfect ringlets and was held away from her face with a ribbon. Her long legs were framed perfectly under her light pink romper. Her waist beautifully cinched with a thick purple belt. Her lips were lusciously painted a glossy pink and her lashes were manicured to be wispy. She looked perfect, far too pretty to be here. Behind her followed Tiffany and Sarah. The trio picked a bar table that skirted the dance floor, across the bar from you. You, like most of the men in the building, followed their figures to their seats and Chrissy stole a glance at you. She looked at you and waved but you looked away, sinking a large gulp of your drink. 

Chrissy had reveled in the fact that her prom stunt had secured her some extra attention for the last week or so of school. Everyone seemed to be talking about her in the hallways and although not all of it was good, she thought it was better to have people talking bad about you than not at all. Suddenly, all of the jocks were at her locker, or fighting to sit with her at lunch, desperate to show her that they were better than the freak she had somehow landed herself with. The attention shot her ego and popularity to an alltime high and she became the queen bee of Hawkins - there was no more sharing or cliques, everyone was under Chrissy’s spell. Everyone thought of her as either generous for going to prom with Eddie, or a down-to-earth girl next door because she kept associating herself with him. It made your stomach roll but she continued to smile sweetly at everyone in the hallway. She often let her gaze linger on you too long. She had everything she thought she wanted those last weeks of highschool. Everything but her best friend. And little did she know, the newfound fame didn’t reach beyond the month of June and the hallways of Hawkins High.

As she sat at her table, her manicured nails wagged at men who were ogling her from the bar behind her. She flashed a devious grin to her friends and waltzed over to the bar. You watched closely. Last time you had heard, she was still with Eddie… There's no other reason why she would be here. You heard her boisterous laugh once more as she strutted back to her table, a cocktail in her hand. You never would have thought that Chrissy would be the type to take advantage of anyone, but then again, in the past few months, you watched the person you thought you knew the best change into a stranger in front of you. You rolled your eyes and focused your attention to the glass in your hand. 

You suddenly heard the humm of an amp and the vibrations of a bass being strummed. You looked up to see your friends taking the stage; All but Eddie. You cheered excitedly for Jeff, Gareth and Tommy but your heart pounded wildly in anticipation for the lanky metalhead that was missing. The few stage lights flickered as the energy and volume of the instruments rose and they began their set. Right before he started singing, Eddie sprang onto stage. There sure wasn’t a huge crowd, but everyone cheered as he appeared. You felt a lump in your throat as you watched the men perform, your eyes never leaving Eddie’s form. You felt your temperature rise what felt like 10 degrees. There was no doubt that he had charisma on stage, that is where he was born to be; But you felt all too emotional looking up at the man that you used to call your best friend. The man you thought that you might be in love with, the man that you thought you found closure with. You let yourself feel the waves of emotion flow through you with the music as you rocked back and forth with the rhythm. When applause erupted, you let your mind quiet with the music. The lights came back on and you grabbed your bag and your glass and got ready to return it to the bar. As you got up to leave, you noticed a gaggle of green letterman jackets had pushed their tables next to the one Chrissy and the girls were sitting at. Your anxiety spiked. You hadn’t talked to any of the jocks since prom and were fine with being the pariah of the group, but the fact that none of your friends were with you now made you feel nervous. You peered at the group from the other side of the bar and watched as Jason leaned in to whisper something into Chrissy’s ear. She slapped his arm playfully and giggled. You felt sick. You couldn’t wait for the boys to get their gear so you could say your goodbyes.

“Well, how’d ya like it?” The familiar voice instantly broke the tension in your body. You turned and gave Gareth a peck on the cheek.

“It was awesome, rockstar! You all were great” you say to Jeff and Tommy who were now sitting at the bar. They smiled and raised their fresh beers to you.

“So, you wanna get out of here? After party at my place. Got beer and the shit you like.” he wiggled his eyebrows at you. As much as you wanted to celebrate their show, you needed quiet. You needed to just go home and shower off the gross conflicting feelings you had.

“As tempting as that sounds, I think I just need to go home tonight, Gar.” he studied your face. The sheer amount of time that you had spent with him meant he could read you like a book. He scanned the dingy room and found the source of your anxiety. His gaze hardened at the green jackets infiltrating their space. 

“They better not have said or done anything to you, I’ll kill them-”

“No no no they didn’t, just weird to see them all here” you reassured. Both of your gazes softened as you found the dark battle jacket amongst the lettermen. Eddie was scoffing loudly and flailing his hands. After a fantastic show, you expected to see him beaming, but his face was set in a hard scowl.

Eddie was slowly losing his patience. He had practically begged Chrissy to come to his gig tonight. He knew that there would be potential for the Hideout to start paying them for regular gigs if they brought in a crowd, but this was the opposite of what he wanted. When he was on stage he met with two pairs of eyes, your beautiful bright eyes and her glazed over blue ones. He was disappointed to see one of them. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you the whole set. He had forgotten how much he missed having you in the crowd. He could feel your energy from 20 feet away. It made him want to perform better. When he looked over to Chrissy’s table, he lost his spark. She looked disinterested. She was busy gabbing to her friends the whole time. Then, when he saw the meatheads walk in, he wanted to jump right off the stage and end the gig right then. But he pushed because at least they would be helping their audience numbers. Once Eddie took a moment to mentally prepare himself in the green room after the show, he plastered on a fake smile and sauntered over to Chrissy. He went to give her a chaste peck, but she turned her face for him to kiss her cheek. 

“My lipgloss, Ed!” She giggled. Eddie rolled his eyes, shot her a sickly sweet smile and planted his lips on her cheek. The girls sitting next to Chrissy oohed and ahhed and the jocks kept to their own conversation, but their presence seemed like it was to mock him. He instantly got caught in his own head, wondering if their intent really was malicious, or if he was just reliving past high school trauma. He was pulled out of his trance when Chrissy’s manicured hand pulled on the lapels of his vest. 

“Hey, rockstar! I’m talking to you!” She teased. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“Sorry, babe. What were you saying?”

“There’s a party out at Lover’s Lake, Jason’s parent’s cabin. Do you want to drop off your band stuff first then we can head out? We can grab some blankets and just sleep in the back of the van because I don’t know about you, but I want to be fully alone when we-” she blabbed, Eddie cut her off by taking her wrists in his hands. 

“Woah, woah! I told you, the band is having their after party at Gareth’s house. You promised me we would be there. Come on, Chris.” Eddie pouted. She had been ditching him more often to go out with other people. He tried not to let his insecurities get the best of him, but it felt like he was losing her interest. This was something he wasn’t going to budge on. This was his night. She was supposed to be there for him. He couldn’t help but think that if it was you in Chrissy’s place, there wouldn’t even be a debate. He wouldn’t have even had to ask you to show up in the first place.

“Oh, come on. Don’t you want to go out to the cabin?” She searched for any kind of agreement she could get from any of the jocks. They either politely smiled at her or avoided her eye contact. The invitation was for Chrissy not Chrissy and Eddie. “It’s going to be, like a million times better than sitting in Derek’s-”

“Gareth’s” Eddie seethed. 

“Gareth’s - whatever - Gareth’s dusty garage. It’ll be romantic. We can have the whole ride up there just you and me…” She cooed, she moved her lips to the lobe of Eddie’s ear “and I can tell you how wet you made me watching you up on that stage” she whispered. Eddie knew that he should be turned on. But he was so angry with her that he couldn’t oblige her. Not this time. 

“I’m not budging, Chris. We need to go to the afterparty. I need to be there with my boys, too. We have cause to celebrate and this is really important to me.”

“But, Eddie…”

Eddie was tired of the games, he was fed up with her tonight. 

“Either we go to Gareth’s together, or we won’t be seen at any parties anymore.” Eddie challenged. He hated that he had to give her an ultimatum but if that’s what it took., then so be it. He didn’t want to be the tag along. Not tonight. Chrissy’s stare hardened at her. He had never challenged her like that before. 

“Alright, Munson. You win. We’ll go to your little party.” Eddie rolled his eyes and told Chrissy he was going to check in with the rest of the band to see what the plan was. She nodded and Eddie turned away, giving the rest of the table a tight smile. He moped his way over to where you and Gareth watched silently. He seemed to light up a bit when he saw your inviting smile.

“Hey, congrats rockstar. You did an amazing job up there” You wrapped a hand around Eddie’s bicep. Eddie felt a shiver run down his spine at the contact.

“You think so? Thanks.” Eddie blushed. He was always one to be so sure of himself, this lack of confidence threw you off. 

“Hell yeah I think so! It was the best show I have seen you guys do yet!” You exclaimed. 

“Are you gonna come to the afterparty?” Eddie asked, hope splayed in a smile across his face. 

“No, I gotta sit this one out. I have to open Family Video tomorrow.”

Eddie looked dejected. He was so happy to see you in the crowd, he had hoped he would be able to talk to you at the party and really apologize.

“Trust me dude, we’re all bummed. I’ve been trying to change her mind for the past 15 minutes. I even offered to call Robin to ask her to cover myself!” Gareth offers. You give the men a sorry smile. 

“You’re gonna have a great time without me! It’s your night. Don’t let me ruin it.” God, you were so selfless. He couldn’t help but admire you in the dim light. So kind and so beautiful. It wasn’t fair how things ended between you. He was an ass. You turned away from him to walk to the door after sending kind waves to the band.

“Y/N” Eddie grabbed your wrist and pleaded with his chocolate eyes. You got lost in them almost immediately. You knew what you felt when he was on stage and you’re pretty sure he knew and felt it too. “Wait, please come to the-”

“Eddie! Are we going or what?” you hear a shrill voice from behind the man staring down at you. Chrissy looked pissed (in more ways than one). Her hands rested on her hips and she tapped her foot on the ground as she swayed. Eddie groaned and let go of you. The heat in your chest quickly faded. You peered around Eddie to smile tightly at the blonde. Her eyes widened and softened at your gesture. She slowly raised her hand to wave to you. You looked back to Eddie.

“You-you better go” you smile sadly at him. “You’re girl’s waiting for you. Have fun tonight, Eddie. Again, you deserve it.”

For the second time, Eddie watched you walk away and he fell into the impatient arms of a girl that he thought  he loved. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your figure as you slipped out of the bar into your car.

As you got in, you let out a big sigh and punched your steering wheel. You knew you made the right choice by leaving and not entertaining anything with the man that trapped your heart all over again, but it would have been so easy to fall back into his arms and pretend like Chrissy didn’t exist. But you didn’t want to stoop to their levels. You didn’t want to get trapped in what was easy versus what was best for you. So you turned the key in the ignition and you quietly drove back to your apartment, retiring to a warm bath and a book, before crawling into bed and letting loneliness and the thought of Eddie on stage singing to you lull you to sleep. 

September 1986

Your first summer of freedom did not follow the plan you thought you had perfected before graduating. Some of those things on your list looked similar, but with different people. You often went joyriding with Steve and Robin after closing Family Video and spent long nights out at Lover’s Lake with old drama club friends. It felt liberating that you didn’t feel a hope about a certain mop headed boy, even though you had been frequenting band practices and summer Hellfire meetings to casually see him as much as possible. You found some independence and even though you often felt lonely without Eddie and Chrissy, you knew you were doing fine without them.

You had just gotten home from a shift at Family Video. The last bit of humid summer air kissed your skin. You shrugged off your vest and other clothes and tossed them into your hamper before starting a steaming shower to wash away the day. You had been looking forward to treating yourself to a face mask, a steam and ending the night by curling up into bed with the newest Stephen King novel. You flopped down on your bed, dawning your favorite oversized tee shirt from your dad’s auto body shop and a pair of sleeper shorts. Your hair was tied loosely in a towel and your face felt clean and soft. You sighed with content as the night was finally yours. You don’t remember how long it took, but you dozed. You awoke to the record you had started playing being long hushed; your glassy eyes opened in accompaniment to the shrill ring of your phone. You grabbed at it and groggily answered. You were greeted by preppy sobs ringing through your ear. 

“H-hello?”

“Y-Y/N” Chrissy wailed. You could smell the alcohol wrecking her through the phone. “I-I need you to tell me I’m not a bad person.”

You paused and almost laughed to yourself. “Chrissy, why are you calling me?”

“I, I just need someone to tell me that I am not a bad person, okay? No one likes me anymore.” You could hear hiccups between her sobs and shuffling from whatever party she was at.

“It’s late, Chrissy. You should go home and go to sleep-” You move to hang up the phone but her cry stops you. 

“I did a really bad thing, Y/N and I need someone to tell me that I’m worth keeping around because no one likes me anymore. No one wants to talk to me and no one looks at me and I want boys to look at me and like me and-”

“Chrissy you have the boy that you love right now. What are you talking about? You have everything you could ever want…” You scoffed. 

“Y/N, I, I don’t think I love Eddie. I don’t think I ever did.” Chrissy whispers. The phone stays quiet save for the party behind her. Her sniffles break the silence every few moments.

“What did you do, Chris?” Your head was spinning. How could she not love Eddie? One of the easiest people on the planet to love. He was the boy who knew how to make anyone feel special and wanted just by looking at them. He would drop anything and run to Chrissy if she ever needed anything and you knew that for a fact. You knew that he was eager to take others’ pain away and make it his to help. He was perfect, a treasure that deserved to be protected at all costs, not be treated like this. Eddie was probably alone in his trailer right now, worried about his girlfriend, or waiting to give her a ride home, while she’s calling  you to tell you that she doesn’t love him? How dare she? You wanted to believe that the girl that you used to know was still in there somewhere. That Chrissy would never do anything to hurt someone that she cared about - even if she didn’t love him…

“Well.. there’s this party going on and, and all the old jocks are here you know? A-Aand Jason and I, well like we were always ‘will they won’t they’ you know? And i saw him at this party and Eddie was being a total jerk and didn’t want to come with me and he just doesn’t look at me like these guys do and-”

“What:” you scoff. “Like a piece of meat?”

“Y/N please. Like I am wanted, like I am attractive. Like I am a prize, okay? Eddie looks at me, but it doesn’t feel as good as when Jason or Andy or Patrick looks at me - like in high school-”

“Chrissy, that’s really fucked up and pathetic. Why are you calling me?”

“Because you’re my best friend - well, you were… and I-I-I miss you, I shouldn’t have stopped being your friend, and I’m sorry I let stupid Eddie come in between us.”

“Stop. Chrissy, Eddie didn’t come between you and me, You came between Eddie and I, and the shit you pulled was fucked up. So tell me what you want so I can get off the goddamn phone and I can rinse the disgusting feeling I have off for talking to you about this-”

“I cheated on Eddie”!” She blurted out. “I’ve been cheating on Eddie for months now. And I’m a bad person but it feels so good to be wanted, Y/N I can’t explain it.”

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say, Chrissy. That’s fucked up, even for you. You have been the lowest of fucking low, but I never thought you would be the type of person to totally fuck up your relationship like that. I don’t know why you wanted to call and tell me this, but I don’t feel sorry for you. Not in the slightest. Goodnight.” You slammed your receiver down on your phone and felt tears prick at your eyes. Not your Eddie. Eddie doesn’t deserve this. You sat in contemplative silence - unwilling to believe the conversation you had just happened.Your phone rang again and you jolted in panic. 

“Hello” you whispered. 

“Hey, Y/N… Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up” You heard his gruff voice and your breath hitched. 

“E-Eddie, why are you calling me?”

“Sorry, sorry I just - I’m kind of freaking out because I haven’t heard from Chrissy in like three days and I just got a call from her I think and she was sobbing your name before the line went dead… I - I was just wondering if she had called you or if something happened I guess. This is stupid I shouldn’t have called you” He sounded exhausted and like he had been crying. 

“Eddie, are you okay?”

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

“I… I don’t know. I’m just tired of these disappearing girlfriend tricks I keep getting fucking trapped in.” He lets out a dry chuckle. 

“I don’t know where she is but I think I know where to find her… I’ll let you know if I hear anything. Okay?” You hear his long sigh over the phone and you wish that you could forget the boundaries that had built up between you and run to him. Tell him that you were there for him and kiss away his pain. Your heart was breaking for him (even though you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction… you had warned him.).

“Hey, Sweetheart?”

“What’s up, Eddie?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about everything-” you heard his voice crack.

“Eddie, it’s okay-”

“No. It’s not.” he cut you off. “I’m so sorry for the shitty person I had been. I fucked up one of the good things I had in my life because I got selfish, and in my own head. I never wanted to hurt you.. I - I just… I don’t know why I chose her. I wanted it to be you so badly, but I forced it.. And I just hope that I can convince you to be my friend again someday.”

“We’ll see what we can do, Ed.” with that you clicked your phone back to the receiver and threw on a flannel. Although you hadn’t been in quite some time, the only place that the meatheads frequented was the Carver residence on the other side of town. You never felt your place there, but you knew how to navigate it. You hastily started your car and set off for your destination.

Jason’s street was littered with abandoned station wagons and empty solo cups. You could hear the music blasting from the beginning of the cul de sac - your head already began to pound. You snaked your way to the end of the manicured driveway and slammed your car door shut. You trudged to the open front door, keeping your head down. As you passed through waves of people, you could feel stares into the back of your head and giggles of your name. You scowled and trained your eyes to search for a pair of tanned legs and a blonde ponytail. You paused in the kitchen, desperate to find Chrissy and your chance to leave when you felt a hand wrap around your waist and warm breath sneak up to your ear.

“I didn’t remember inviting you to my party… outcast” a baritone voice huffs.

“You didn’t, Carver… I’m picking something up and then I will be out of your hair. Don’t let me ruin your night.” You pull away from him but his grip on your waist becomes bruising. 

“Aww, come on, outcast. Why don’t we party like we used to. You’ve been hanging out with the freaks for too long… Forgot how to have fun. Why don’t you let me show you what you’ve been missing, huh?” Jason spun you around so his piercing blue eyes were boring into yours. 

“I would literally rather poke my eyes out with hot knives. Where’s Chrissy”

“Oh, god you really are a desperate frigid bitch, aren’t you? You know I didn’t want to believe Chrissy when she told me but, I guess she was right” The blonde sneered. 

“Yeah, yeah, Jason. I get it. Go take your steroids and show the rest of your friends how manly you are… I’m not interested. Now do you know where I can find her, or did you lose the brain cells for facial recognition too?” Jason stared at you slack jawed, then his grin slid across his face. It made you sick.

“Well, when I left her an hour ago, she was - ahem - cleaning herself up in my room. Feel free to go look there if you’d like… But be warned, you might not like what you see up there.” He giggled. He brought his face into your cheek and your blood froze. He puckered his lips and planted them to the side of your face. 

“It was… so good to see you again, Y/N. Glad to see you really did peak in high school… ugh and that says something, doesn’t it?” He breezed past you to leave you to physically recoil and regather. You wanted to turn around and leave… fuck Chrissy and fuck all of these people… but you had to do this for Eddie. You turned to the staircase facing the kitchen and pace up. Although it had been a long time since you had been in the Carver house, you still felt like you could clear the top floor in a good time. You past couples pressed against hallways and huddled into rooms. You hear giggles and beds creaking and girls crying, but no Chrissy. 

You were ready to give up hope, having tried all of the door handles and being met with locked doors or your apologies for intruding. The last door at the end of the hallway opened as you went to reach for the door and you were met with the girl you had been searching for for the last ten minutes. Her eyes widened in horror and relief to see you. She looked like a mess. Her usually neat slicked ponytail was slated on the side of her head, flyaways crowning her. Her eyes were glazed over eyes were smudged black with mascara and eyeliner. Her flush in her cheeks made her intoxication very apparent and her lips were kiss-swollen and smudged. She sported one of Jason’s old Hawkins raglans in replacement of whatever tiny top she had worn to the party. You felt bad for her at first sight; pity running through your veins as her lips quivered. Her paused tears resumed as she wrapped you in a hug. 

“Thank you so much for coming, Y/N. Thank you so much.” she sobbed. 

“Yeah, Chris. This is fucked. Let’s go, okay?”

You guided the girl down the stairs and out of the house - refusing to look anywhere but the floor in case Jason returned to try and claim you as a prize again. Chrissy had blabbered nonsense all the way to the car while you tried to prevent her from going horizontal. You closed her door and paced back to your side of the car. You were greeted with silence and the smell of vodka.

“Who else, Chrissy?” you whispered. 

“Wh-wha-”

“Who else did you fuck, Chrissy?!” you yelled, your eyes never left her figure, her eyes did not leave her feet. 

“It was just Jason… tonight.”

“For fucks sake! Are you kidding me?”

“Can we just go? I know I’m a piece of shit okay? But some of us need the attention! Okay! I’m not alright with walking around feeling like I am fading away into no one and that no one cares who I am anymore! I want someone to look at me like other girls get looked at! I want to be like you where you can find other friends and you can go out and be effortlessly yourself and everyone loves you!” “What the FUCK are you talking about? You have a boyfriend, Chrissy. He should be the one that makes you feel like that. HE looks at you like that! He is the one that you should be loving because he loves you!” Chrissy let out a dry laugh.

“Oh come on now, Y/N you and I both know he doesn’t love me. He doesn’t look at me like that because he is too busy looking at you like that! You had me and you had him and it wasn’t good enough! So we both needed to settle for second best! And I am just not okay with being second best anymore!”

“You are the one that gave me up for all your popular friends, you and Eddie both chose each other over me! And look who is here picking up the pieces after you handed yourself out to the basketball team, and while your own fucking boyfriend traverses the streets of Hawkins because he has no idea where you are! I was fucking right. You both deserve each other.” You shoved your car into drive and rolled your car into the road. Chrissy silently sobbed while you focused your eyes on the night ahead of you. 

Your ride was long and awkward. When you pulled up to your house, Chrissy seemed surprised. 

“I can’t let you go back to your house like this, Chris. We need to get you cleaned up.” She nodded a silent thank you and the two of you retreated to the second floor of your house. You got Chrissy a change of clothes and a toothbrush while she was in the shower and put her alcohol drenched outdfit in the wash. You waited for her in your room. When she sheepishly entered, you gestured to the bed you had made for her on the floor. She settled into her blankets and an awkward silence covered you once again.

“Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me… I don’t deserve it.”

“I know, Chrissy. But you need someone to help you make a couple good decisions tonight. That was a fucking mess, at Jason’s” You heard her breath catch in her throat. “You have to tell Eddie what’s been going on, Chrissy. And he’s going to hate you. But you can’t do that to him. You might not love him but you and I both know that he deserves better than this.”

“I know,” she conceded quietly. You laid your head on your pillow. Your alarm clock read 3:39am. You tossed and turned in your sleep all night, pictures of Eddie’s heartbroken face haunting your dreams. 

You awoke to Chrissy folding blankets and stacking pillows onto your dresser.

“Hey, morning. How are you feeling?” you croaked. 

“Well, I’m here and that’s a way better place than I thought I was going to be staying” Chrissy chuckled dryly. “Thank you again for last night, Y/N. I really owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it. I just hope that if the roles were reversed you would do the same for me.” The air between you seemed palpable, it reminded you of when Chrissy would be doing the very same thing after a weekend long sleepover. You both gave each other testing smiles and short giggles.

You dropped Chrissy off after stopping to get coffee for the two of you. Chrissy looked at you apologetically and unclasped her seatbelt. 

“Thanks for the ride” she offered

“Welcome. Good luck with Eddie” you mumbled. As badly as you felt for your old friend, you could not wait for her downfall. She didn’t deserve Eddie and he didn’t deserve to be hurt like this. But the light of old times seeping through the walls that you had rebuilt felt nice, even if it was artificial, fleeting. You flashed the girl a comforting smile.

“Thanks. I think I’m really going to need it. I really fucked up.” she looked down and began to pick at her nails.

“But this might be a learning lesson for you at least. I hate to say it but Karma can be a bitch sometimes.” you grab her wrist and squeeze. Your hands warm her veins and she relaxes into your touch. She pats you on the hand as she wriggles out of your car and trots to her door. She looks back at you before she closes the door behind you. She really stares into you as she raises a hand and waves. It was goodbye for good.

You got cut early from your shift at the video store.You were little to no help to the gorgeous head of hair working with you anyways. You tell Steve about your night, about Chrissy’s admissions and your call with Eddie. You were unsure of what your expectations were at this point. You call with Eddie shifted the dynamic of friendly strangers and you again found yourself battling between easy choices and choices that were good for you. Luckily for you, you were wasting time with Hawkin’s most eligible bachelor and love-life-advice solicitor.

“I don’t know, Y/N all I’m saying is there are so many guys in this town that would actually take you out and treat you right, you don’t deserve this shit” the boy quipped. You loved how honest Steve could be. He had quickly given you more examples of what a good friend looked like. “Like what about that Gareth kid?! Have you seen the way he looks at you? Worships the ground you walk on. Get a guy like that” Steve folds his hands on his hips. You scoff at him. 

“Gareth and I are just friends. Trust me, we’ve gotten into all of that relationship stuff a long time before.” Steve’s eyes grew to saucers. You giggled. “It was one kiss this summer and both of us knew it wasn’t gonna happen, okay?” You rolled your eyes as you slid a box of freshly rewound tapes to him.

“Alright, alright - poor guy. I’m just saying. Munson? He should be old news. He and Chrissy deserve each other…” 

“Maybe I should test drive a guy like you then, Harrington?” you sneered. He dropped the box, his back turned to you but you could tell his cheeks had flushed. “Or…Hargrove?”

“Hey!”

“Or-”

“Alright enough!” Steve chided. You suppressed your giggle. “You think you’re so funny, huh? I just worry about you, that’s all.”

“I know, Steve. Trust me, I wish I could move on. The two of them do deserve each other… But every time I think of them making up and going back to being good,  it makes me want to rip my hair outI can’t stand it.”

“Damn kid. You really are down bad” Steve jabbed you in the side of the arm and you shrieked. “If you really feel that way then I guess you gotta let him know.”

“What if they do get back together and I laid it all out for nothing? Or what if I’m old news to him, Steve? I cant handle that…”

“Dude, if he makes the same mistake as he did at prom he won’t just have Gareth to deal with, okay? He’ll have me, Buckley and half of the Family Video clientele coming after him.” Steve glanced at the clock and gestured to the door. “Now get out of there and fix your bullshit life” he winks. Your smile lightens your whole face. You grab your bag from behind the counter and scurry out the door after planting a kiss to Steve’s cheek. He was left to the fluorescent aisles, shaking his head. You really did deserve better.

You pulled into your driveway, ready to spend the afternoon in Gareth’s backyard smoking weed and watching as many horror movies that you could before inevitably passing out. As you sauntered up to your door, you realized your plans for the day had been eviscerated. Sitting on your front step was a cardboard box that had been taped together neatly. Sitting on top of the box laid a note scrawled with purple ink:

“Y/N, I didn’t know who else to trust with this, and I am so sorry to ask.

Please take this box and give it to Eddie if you see him. I can’t bear to give it to him myself and I can’t tell anyone else about what I did. 

Thank you for being such a good friend even when I didn’t deserve one.

Chrissy”

You let out a large sigh as you picked up the box and opened your door. You didn’t want to call Eddie, you were scared to find out how much he knew. Part of you wanted to leave the box on the doorstep for him to quietly pick up without notice, but you knew that your heart couldn’t handle knowing he was so close and you did nothing. So you picked up the receiver to your landline and dialed a familiar set of numbers.

“Hey champ! When you coming over?” A peppy boy answered. 

“Hey, Gar. Something came up and I don’t think I can come over.”

“What did he do, Y/N?” Gareth’s tone hardened immediately. You could feel his anger radiating through the telephone.

“Nothing, it's more like what Chrissy did…” You spent the next half an hour telling Gareth about your encounters yesterday. Gareth huffed bitterly in response. Eddie Jeff and Gareth hadn’t been the same since their gig at the Hideout. Eddie began dodging band practice to be with Chrissy. He sacrificed DND campaigns and hellfire meetings to hide under the bleachers to go to the mall with Chrissy, or go to dinner with the jocks. Eddie became the most popular recluse. The three musketeers became strangers and the practices they had now - if any - were full of tension and unfamiliarity. Jeff and Gareth resented Eddie for the way his world revolved around Chrissy, and Eddie resented the two for not being happy for him, for not supporting him in what he wanted. In the middle was you. Eddie longed to be close to you again, but Jeff and Gareth refused to let him too close, you wouldn’t be hurt again, at least not on their watches. Although hostility ran high, all of you craved so much to be a group again, to be able to forgive and forget. But as all of you had figured out, that was much easier said than done.

“I’m coming over. I don’t want you to be alone when he shows up.”

“Gareth, I will be fine. I need to talk to him anyway” Your voice got quiet

“Talk to him about what?”

“I-I just need to know what happened between him and Chrissy. I need to know what that means for me, Gareth. I’m sick and tired of wondering if it could happen.”

“Y/N that’s a bad idea. We should just be done with him”

“I know, Gareth. He doesn’t deserve us. But I’m tired of being strong and stubborn.  I just need to talk to him. I need to see him.” There was a silence over the phone. Gareth’ heart broke for you, but he knew that he couldn’t protect you from this.

“If anything happens, you give me a call and I will be over in 5 minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” You chuckle.

“Hey, now! I mean it”

“Gareth?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I love you, you know?” there was a loud sigh over the phone.

“Yeah I know. I love you too.”

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

“It has to be.” With a click, you were left to listen to the dial tone. You place your phone down and get yourself ready. You didn’t know when Eddie would be over, but you wanted to prepare before he did. 

You sat in the shower until the water ran cold. Your skin felt scrubbed free from any imperfection, but it felt tight with stress. You forced yourself to make food but could barely eat. The rest of your evening consisted of staring at the same open page in your book while reruns of Match Game bled through the living room. The sun had set, along with the hopes that you would get closure tonight. Later, you heard the rattle of an engine outside accompanied by the thrash of Ozzy Ozbourne. You shot off the couch and toed your way to the front door. On the other side, you could hear a cacophony of swears and pacing footsteps. A few moments later, three hesitant knocks on your door. You took a couple of breaths and turned the handle. You were greeted with a tousled mop of hair and fair skin. His jeans hung low on his hips and he wore a thinning band t-shirt. His pale arms gripped his shoulders, flashing patches of inky figures across his forearms. His face, usually soft and blushing, looked pale. Dark circles encapsulated his coffee coloured irises. His nose was red and his lip was quivering. As awful as he looked, he was so tragically beautiful, like a muse. His lips still puckered and dared you to dart out and kiss them. His frame towered over yours and threatened to encapsulate you whole. You wanted nothing more. You gripped the inside of your doorframe in grounding, afraid you were going to evaporate into the cooling evening.

“Eddie, Hi” You squeaked. The boy looked dully at you as you took in his appearance. “I-I saw Chrissy’s note… the box is just inside I’ll-” You turned to leave but Eddie’s sigh held you in place.

“Fuck the box, Y/N” Eddies voice was just above a whisper. It rattled as if he were scared that if he spoke too loudly, the whole world would collapse in on him. His eyes lined with tears again. “What happened last night?” He demanded.

“I found her at a party… she had called me and, well I couldn’t just leave her there so…I took her home with me and she told me she was a bad person…” your eyes were trained to the floor. “I took her home in the morning and then the box was waiting for me after work, so you might have to fill in the rest of the blanks for me.”

“She fucked me over. That’s what happened! She went out and she fucked half the basketball team while I fucking waited for her to come back into my fucking arms! I tried to give her everything but nothing was ever good enough!” Eddie seethed. “ ‘I need more attention, Eddie’ or, ‘come out to this party, Eddie’ ‘ I want to do this instead, Eddie.’ ‘Why aren't you more like Jason, Eddie?’ FUCK I should have fucking known better, but I’m the fucking freak, I don’t get what I want. I don’t deserve to be happy because this is partially my fault too…” Eddie fisted at his hair while he paced on your front step. 

“Eddie. I don’t know what to say-”

“You don’t need to say anything but I told you so. That’s what I fucking deserve. You shouldn’t be sitting here pitying me. You should be laughing at me” Eddie whimpered. You had never seen him so small, so fragile. You wanted to rub the tension out of his shoulders and kiss his furrowed brows until he looked like your Eddie again. 

“Yeah but I’m not because I care about you Eddie.” You reach out to touch him but he pulls away like you burned him. “I’m really fucking sorry that this happened. No matter what I think of you, you don’t deserve this.” Eddie stopped in his tracks and trained his eyes on your meek figure. You shuddered when you looked up and made eye contact with him. Your eyes were wet and his eyes were pools of sorrow, But his gaze held a foreign glimmer to them. You let Eddie study you in silence. 

“What can I do to make it better?” 

“I… I don’t know, Eddie. That might be a conversation to have with Chrissy and you-”

“I’m not talking about me and Chrissy.” Eddie held his gaze on you as he stepped closer to you. He smelt of weed, beer and cheap aftershave. 

“Eddie-”

Swiftly, the boy grabbed your cheeks and collapsed into you, smashing his lips with yours. As much as your brain screamed at you to push him off, your bones melted in with his, finally giving into the temptation that your body so desperately craved since your kiss in the theatre. Eddie’s weight moved you backwards into your house and he closed the door behind him. His hands migrated down your torso to your waist as he spun you to pin you back up against your front door. You moaned into his mouth as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. Your hands found their way to Eddie’s chest and you gripped his shirt. He was shaking. It felt like there were only two of you. Kissing Eddie was the most natural thing to happen. Every move he made, your body had the perfect response. He gripped your hips as you slid your hands around his neck into his hair, earning a moan from the metalhead. A pit in your stomach formed at his lips vibrating against yours and you thought your legs would give out. Eddie pressed his body deeper into yours and you swore you could feel his heartbeat in your own chest. As much as you wanted this moment to last forever, you pulled yourself away from him, his eyes still closed and lips slightly parted, also very much in shock as to what had just happened. You gaze up at him as tears unwillingly spill down your cheeks. A mortified expression painted Eddie’s face, immediately thinking that he had overstepped again. He waited for a slap to the face or for you to push him away and begin yelling. But you looked up at him through your glassy eyes and his heart backflipped. His hands returned to your cheeks, thumbs desperately swiping at your tears. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Eddie, we can’t lie to each other. You and I both know I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a long time” a sad smile crept across your face.

“Fuck. I’ve been doing this wrong the whole time. I’ve wanted you this whole time, Y/N. This whole time, not a day has gone by where I wish I could go back to prom night and make the right choice. I am so fucking sorry.”

“I accept your apology, Eddie. But I don’t forgive you” Eddie’s heart sank. The flush he had earned left his face. His hands dropped to your wrists and he gripped tightly, like he was afraid you were going to disappear in front of him. “Not now at least. You fucked me up, Eddie. I waited for you and I watched you break my heart, and I will not be anyone’s second best ever again. I won’t be your second place again.” Eddie shook his head in understanding.

“What can I do? Please tell me what I can do.”

“You can work on how to make good choices again, Ed. Be my friend first. Prove to me you deserve that. Because I am not okay with being a rebound either. Prove to me you want me and this isn’t just a way to get over Chrissy, because my heart can’t take it.” you sob into him and he wraps you into a hug.

“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s you. It’s always been you, and I will spend the rest of my days proving how much I need you.”

“Okay, Eddie. I believe you.” You pull away from him and step away from him. “But we can’t do that again.” You both were too afraid to say anything more, so you stood in silence, taking in each others’ space. Eddie then reached for the door.

“I, I should really go, I guess. I’m not sorry for kissing you, but I’m really sorry if it upset you.” You grab the hand that Eddie had on your front door. 

“Eddie, I know you aren’t exactly sober right now, or in the right state of mind to really be alone. So as your friend, I would really like it if you stayed here tonight, so I know that you’re okay.”

“As a friend?” 

You nodded firmly.

“I would really like that,” Eddie smiled softly at you.

“Let’s go put a movie on and try and get some sleep.” You grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him up to your bedroom. Eddie climbed onto your bed as you leaned over your TV and punched in The Shining. You joined Eddie on the bed, both of you under the farthest edges of the blanket, too scared to cross a thin boundary that had been set. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, Ed?”

“I was wondering If I- If It would be okay, could I maybe hold you?” Eddie murmured into his lap that he was staring at. “I just feel really cold. I don’t mean anything by it I promise. I just need… to feel something good.”

Wordlessly, you shuffled over to the middle of the bed. Eddie followed suit. You slid down so your head leaned on his chest, his arm draped down your back, his fingers drew circles  on your hip. Your arm wrapped around him as a silent reassurance that you were not going anywhere. The steady pounding of Eddie’s heart and the rise and fall of his chest quickly lulled you to sleep. Eddie spent next to no time watching Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall, too busy studying every detail of your body that he could see. As he heard your soft sighs signaling you had fallen asleep, he silently cried into your temple. 

Eddie Munson knew he was an idiot, that he fucked up. As much as his heart broke, he couldn’t help but be willing to break it over and over again if it meant that he got to call you his one day.

taglist: @mxcheese @anislabonis-love @zenathebeautiful @h-ness1944 @nymphetkoo @tlclick73 @darknesseddiem @nega-omega @them-cute-boys @eggo-segual @browneyes528 @ali-r3n @micheledawn1975 @partydulce @eddies-puppet @elvendria @itsjustwous @littlemisslovestoread @kjcmama @chloe-6123 @navs-bhat @loveforreading @thegirlthatsfalling @metalhead-succubus @moth-maam56 @ohmeg @secretdryrose @cloudroomblog @harmfulb1tch @buckybarnessweetheart @littlelunarfox @duncanhillscoffeecups @deathnote6666 @fangirling-galore @eddiesguitarskills @alexa4040 @arsonfrogger@sleepydragonx @batkin028 @eddiemunsonsgf22 @stairwaytozai@littlestarfighter03 @kimmi-kat@bleachbetch@sashaphantomhive@maybeitsthemoon @sluggzillaa @siriuslysmoking @littleesilvia @munsonssecretblog@dreamerjj @goth-cowgirl-03@middle-of-the-earth @idkatee@animechick555@hargrovesswifee@fall-myriad@foreveranexpatsposts

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

Index:

Chapter 1 - Size of A Plum

Chapter 2 - With a ‘U’ or an ‘O’

Chapter 3 - Auntie Laur and A Very Drunk Boy

Chapter 4 - Baby Dior

Chapter 5 - His Treble

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 6 - Teddy Bear | ‘Ours’

Your due date was fast approaching. It was getting scarily real, in fact. The past couple days had been… difficult. Since the scare at the hospital Trent had been tiptoeing around treating you like a piece of glass. He was being so helpful preparing for your baby girl but you were stressed because he had two away matches back to back and he couldn’t really do anything about that. Your three year anniversary was this week too. You felt a lot of pressure to be ready for that date and for your baby. Trent told you not to worry about the anniversary but you didn’t like that idea because you knew he would most definitely do something for it. It was just so overwhelming to manage anything outside of just looking after your body lately. You actually hadn’t been to a home game of Trent’s yet this season because it was just so taxing. It was hard for you to sit up and down, you hated all the attention on you, the stress of the games was not helping you any. Maybe you were being a little over dramatic but it was a lot to go to Anfield let alone an away match. It was all too much so he told you it was better for you to watch from the comfort of home. You were roughly due in about a week or so at this point. Your parents and Winnie were coming in a few days so they’d be at your house soon as well. Trent had left yesterday to travel to Leicester for a match. So once again, you had opted to stay home for his match and watch the clash at your place with Marcel. Between your anniversary, your family coming, Trent’s game, and your baby you felt like you were going to explode both mentally and physically.

“Sorry to be a pain, Marce, can you help me get up?” You giggled and looked at him for some assistance. Your once very comfortable couch had really become a pain in the ass for you. The cushions were so deeply set it was hard to get yourself up on your own.

“Yeah, course.” He stood up and held both your hands to pull you up. Marcel was a saving grace when Trent wasn’t around. You felt a little bad that his friend, i.e. you; had become a pregnant woman he had to stay home with and help get off the couch as opposed to your previously very fun nights at Anfield drinking. You walked about halfway to the kitchen before the worst pain you ever felt ran through you. You were terrified it was another episode of what happened the other week when you were rushed to hospital. That was until you felt a pop sensation and water hit the wooden floor.

“Marce…. “ you yelped. He just hummed barely acknowledging you, keeping his attention on the match. “No, seriously… Marce.” You whined. The sudden pain had you bending over. He turned his head towards you and saw you wincing in pain.

“Fuck” he jumped up from the couch. He ran over to you. “Wait… wait what the fuck do I do?” His eyes widened in panic as he rushed over. Your water had broken.

“Marce… I can’t exactly wait can I? I need you to take me to hospital.” You were trying to slow your breathing. You were attempting to remain calm but seeing the younger boy in front of you absolutely shell shocked was not helping.

“Well, what do we do about Trent… I’ll call him right?” Marcel babbled asking you questions you didn’t have the mental capacity to answer right now, placing his hand on your back, waking you towards the door. All your preparations for this moment had gone out the window.

“Marce… I don’t know, I've never done this before!! We need to go to hospital now!” He nodded, panicking. He let go of you and ran to grab his keys. You heard him pick them up and then drop them nervously running back over to you muttering to himself. He helped you into the front seat of his car. He was in a full blown panic attack and it definitely was not settling your nerves.

“I don’t know the directions to hospital… hold on” he mumbled out tapping at the dashboard in his car into the maps app.

“Marce… I said it inside I can’t exactly ‘hold on’ right now. Can you just take a deep breath for me because your fucking stressing me out.” You quipped at him. He nodded at you, still focused on getting the GPS to work. He figured it out eventually and got on the motorway. Of course, this happened when you were with him. You had called Trent about 10 times to no avail. He hadn’t answered and he hadn’t responded to any texts either. You took a break calling him to ring Dianne, insisting Marcel try Trent while you spoke with her. You needed to tell someone other than Marcel you were having this baby.

“Di… hi, yeah. Erm…well I’m pretty sure I’m going into labor so…” she gasped you could hear her bobble her phone almost dropping it. “In the panic I forgot the baby bag we packed though. Could you go to our house before… I wasn’t thinking.” You started to get upset at how poorly you felt you managed this unfolding. Tears forming in your eyes. Your breath getting lost somewhere in the car. It didn’t help that your contractions were getting rapidly more intense. “No…no, I haven’t heard from him. He hasn’t picked up.” You explained to her that you hadn’t been able to get in contact with Trent yet. Saying it out loud only heightened the emotions.

“He’ll be there hun. I’ll grab the bag and see you soon. Try to take a breath, it’s all going to be just fine. Tell Marce to relax as well.” She gave you a sympathetic laugh knowing Marcel was probably freaking out, which he was. You appreciated her calm demeanor. You arrived at the hospital still unable to reach Trent. You were sobbing. You couldn’t calm down until the nurses literally made you calm down with a sedative. Trent was out on the pitch whilst all this was happening unknowingly thinking you were happy at home watching him. He came in from warming up and sat down in the dressing room. He began to start preparing his match ready kit when he saw all the missed calls on his phone.

“Oh shit! Fuck!” He yelled, standing up from his locker room stall. He read the 100 messages you sent him all reminding him that you were going to have his baby and you’d like him to be there.

“Where you going mate?!” Andy yelled out as Trent ran out of the dressing room abruptly. He notified someone on the coaching staff and they cleared him to go. Trent was going to leave regardless of the consequences frankly.

“I'm having a baby.” He shouted frantically to Andy while messily throwing his things together and grabbing his bag sprinting faster than he ever had on any pitch before. Thank god the game was only about 2 hours away.

“He’s not here… I can’t believe hes not here. He’s going to miss this” you said, attempting to stifle more cries, squeezing Dianne’s hand in the hospital room for support. “Can you call him again?” You whimpered looking up at her distraught. All you could think of was Trent. You really appreciated Dianne being with you but you wished it was his hand who you were holding. Your contractions were starting to become stronger and closer together when Dianne heard the slaps of slides running down the hallway. A nurse guided Trent, still dressed in his full Liverpool warm ups, into the room towards you. You felt so nauseous but seeing Trent provided momentary comfort.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m here. I got you. You're gonna do great, baby. Hmm?” He cooed, pressing a kiss into your hair, wiping some off your face as the doctor explained what was going to happen to Trent.

“T… I’m so glad you’re here.” You whined as people in the room rushed around. It all felt like a foggy haze and a painfully slow one at that.

“I would never miss this.” He smiled at you, pressing his lips to you again. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. I love you, baby. I’ll be here the whole time. You’re gonna do so well. You’re so strong, okay? I love you so so much.” he murmured interspersed with more kisses. Well… it was fucking horrible but your were as strong as you could be for your new little family, for your baby girl, for her daddy. When she arrived the world blurred. The only thing that existed in your life was the most beautiful baby girl you’d ever seen. You were almost oblivious to the rest of the process. One hour ago your lives changed forever when Teddy Marie Alexander-Arnold entered the world.

The pain from earlier slipped away leaving you in love with the brand new tiny human laying on your chest. It felt like a dream. She was far too perfect to be real. A little while later Trent watched as the nurses laid her tiny head on him. He whispered to her and started to cry a little looking at how small she was on his chest. Watching it his emotions unfold made you start crying. He laughed with a sniffle seeing you get worked up over it all so he leaned over and pressed his perfect pout your daughter had inherited to your lips with your little girl in between you two. It felt like your very first kiss. Only now, you were parents.

“I can’t believe how perfect she is.” You mumbled quietly watching Teddy have a big yawn back in your arms. You giggled at just how remarkably pretty she was.

“I can, she’s your daughter. Makes sense.” Trent cooed rubbing his nose against your cheek. He said that and you obviously knew she was, hell, you could definitely still feel that she was but she was a carbon copy of Trent. God, just the exact spitting image and you loved every bit of it. During your whole pregnancy you’d have conversations about who’s features you’d want her to have but secretly you wanted just this. She looked identical to him. She only existed for a little over an hour but you could see Trent clearly in her big brown eyes and perfect pout. Tiredly, your little girl looked up at you two, now awake, catching her every movement. It was then when you watched in real time Teddy wrap Trent around her tiny little chubby finger.

“Hell of an anniversary present, huh?” You teased Trent as his eyes filled with love hearts looking at his precious baby girl hold onto his one finger with her whole hand.

“She is the most perfect gift. You could ever give me, one that we created. Thank you so much for carrying our baby girl. Allowing me to do this with you. You’re amazing, baby. You’d think those words would’ve lost there meaning over the last couple hours from the amount of times I said them. I swear they’ve never lost an ounce of their weight, seriously. They have never been more true. I knew you were amazing from the moment I met you on 78th Street. God, you were like super glue on my brain. The second I looked into your eyes that beautiful stare never fucking left. Your strength and resilience never cease to amaze me, Y/N. I know you’re rolling your eyes but you really do inspire me. You inspire me to be a better man, a better person. Some days I'm just amazed you even manage to put up with me. You've amazed me throughout our entire relationship.” Trent ended his monologue with a kiss to your lips. He was going to keep talking until you cut him off.

“T… I can’t cry anymore, please.” You whine with a giggle. He needed to stop talking like that or you’d start bawling. “I love you, baby. We are so lucky we have you.” You looked down at your baby girl with a feeling you’d rarely experienced before. Confidence. You were confident. So sure in the fact that Trent would always take care of you two. “Thank you, T. Really, thank you for being the best source of strength for both of us. You’ve been perfect the whole time. I’ve always said this but your dedication is so incredible and you’ve been incredibly dedicated to building an amazing life for me and her. Thank you for being you. I couldn’t have done this without you. As much as you are my boyfriend, my life partner, my baby’s daddy, it made this all the more special that you’re also my best friend, T.” Trent’s lash line filled with tears. He rested his forehead on yours.

“She’s ours, baby. All mine and yours.” He cooed as you tilted your head up for kiss.

Tyler, Marcel, and Dianne sat in the waiting room ironically impatiently. A TV in the room of the hospital was on SkySports quietly buzzing on about the latest reports happening in the Premier League.

‘Trent Alexander-Arnold has been removed from Liverpool’s line up tonight.’

The TV muffled out the news. All three of them picked their heads up to see the report deducing what possibly could have caused the unforeseen change. They just laughed knowing what Trent was doing was beyond worth missing a match. A nurse came before the segment about Trent ended advising his family they could come and see you. Shortly after, you heard a timid knock on the door. Dianne appeared with Marcel peeking in. They were quiet as you sat beaming on the bed with Trent sitting on its edge both still admiring Teddy.

“Congratulations, my baby boy” Dianne came over and gave Trent a tight hug. “So proud of you. Congratulations, sweetie.” She leaned over and kissed your forehead and you smiled up at her. “Oh my goodness isn’t she just perfection. I feel like I’m having Deja vu. You look just like your daddy, don’t you?” She cooed in a soft voice as Teddy opened and closed her mouth and leaned her tiny head onto your chest more adjusting to the world. Marcel snuck up behind his mum and looked over her shoulder down at the little baby in your arms. He hummed like he was inspecting her and was satisfied.

“Congrats bro.” He turned to dap Trent up and gave him a hug. “She looks so much like you and yet somehow she’s perfect and pretty…” he joked, eliciting a slap on the arm from Trent. Tyler waited towards the door not wanting to crowd you, ever thoughtful. When a little space cleared as everyone settled in he came a little closer with a big bouquet.

“For TAA the 2nd’s mummy.” He tipped the flowers towards you to see them and you smiled as he placed the arrangement on a table beside you. He turned back to you with a more serious, sincere look on his face. “Y/N, I know we give you a hard time usually but jokes aside we’re so happy you’re a part of our family. We all knew Trent was punching” Tyler spoke softly until he was cut off.

“You said jokes aside?” Trent looked at Tyler confused at why he was catching strays. Tyler rolled his eyes and turned back to you.

“Anyways… we’re so glad you’re here. This little girl is so lucky to have you, really. I speak for all of us, we love you so much.” He squeezed your hand. It was hard that your immediate family wasn’t there for this but when it really came down to it, the Alexander-Arnolds were your family, wholeheartedly. Teddy was so lucky she was born into such a loving family. They always looked after you and you knew they would look after her probably even a little bit more.

“Marce, do you want to hold her?” You looked up at him and at first he looked terrified but then he mustered some courage and nodded. You patted the bed with one free hand telling him to sit next to you and so he did. He turned his head and looked at you closely. Tired but glowing.

“I’m really happy for you, Y/N. You mean a lot to me. If this little girl is even a fraction like you, she’ll be an amazing person.” He cooed and your eyes began to water. “Don’t…” he tried to stop you. You carefully handed him Teddy. “You’re never dating anyone, okay?” Marcel teased stroking her cheek with the back of his finger. Tyler and Trent conquered immediately without a second thought. You almost felt bad for anyone that was going to try to date your daughter in the very far away future. As he held her, Marcel fell in love with Teddy and in someway you felt like you could tell she was with him as well. She seemed to be a quiet baby which was fitting for you and Trent but you were only a few hours into her life, that could change.

You FaceTimed your parents and they cried on the phone. They had a flight to see you in a days time. They wanted to come sooner but your birth was unexpectedly expected. They tried their best to get to you and their granddaughter as fast as they could. You told them not to worry because you certainly weren’t letting go of her any time soon. For the foreseeable future she'd be right there in your arms.

You were definitely nervous to leave hospital. To bring your baby girl home and be alone was a pretty scary thing but one thing you were particularly excited for or at least to document was the ‘hot dad walk.’ You were tempted to share it on social media because you knew the girlies would have a field day seeing Trent carry Teddy out but you decided not to because these were just moments for you to share with him and cherish. Although, you definitely were appreciative of how good he looked walking out of the hospital carrying her.

When you walked into the house and opened the front door you saw the most adorable balloons and big teddy bear reading ‘welcome home Teddy girl’ you wanted to cry but you think you may had run out of tears by this point. The amount of flowers in your home was absurd as well. Every person you can imagine sent massive bouquets. Teammates, friends, family from all over. You felt so loved and you were so happy your daughter was coming into the world that way. Trent carried her inside adorably nestled in her seat asleep. She looked so cute in a little white onesie from Dior with pink patterned detailing and a matching hat. You hugged Trent in the foyer, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Welcome home, baby bear.” Trent cooed looking down at her. You smiled watching him admire her. You got settled in the living room needing to sit down asap. Trent’s family was coming over in a little to help out and see more of her but for now it was just the three of you. It had been a long almost 48 hours at this point so they needed to get home as well. Trent gently picked up your sleepy girl and carried her over to sit next to you. The little girl in his arms looked just like her dad, she didn’t even bother to try with your genes. She had his complexion, his eyes, everything and you loved it. Teddy snuggled into Trent finding comfort and warmth in her daddy’s arms the same way you did. Her little breaths hit against him and he’d pout every time she’d make a little noise, kissing her head.

“So… What do we do now?” You giggled, tipping your head back onto the back of the couch, rolling it to look at Trent. The house was quiet except for tiny hiccups from Teddy. Your life had completely changed in a matter of hours.

“I have no fucking idea.” Trent laughed back at you. “Mum and Dad now innit?” He looked down at his mini me still chuckling.

“T! You can’t swear anymore!” You pinched at him. He gave a ‘come on’ face. Teddy was not even a day old; it wasn't exactly like she was picking up or learning the words as you said them today.

“Should we show her her room?” You giggled overly excited you were finally home with your new little family. You were eager to have Teddy see the nursery you worked so hard on. It’s not like she could say thank you or anything, break down if she liked it or not but it was still cute. You wanted to show her everything you could, introduce her to the whole world. You carried her upstairs and opened the door to the nursery you had carefully put together for her. It was so calm and serene there. Cream walls and warm soft furniture. She had a whole wardrobe, books, toys, you just wanted to sit in there all day with her. Just admire her and watch her get acquainted with her new home. The embroidered Avalon blanket Trent had given you laid over a small couch. You couldn’t believe that Baby Alexander-Arnold sewn into the blanket was now here and had her own name. What you weren’t expecting though was the surprise left on her changing table; a big bouquet of Venus et Fleur flowers, two neatly wrapped gifts with white furry teddy bear holding a card in its lap.

“T…” you pouted at him. Obviously it was from him. He always managed to get things organized when you weren't paying attention, with help of course. He shrugged and took Teddy from you. You sat down on a chair in the room and began by opening the card.

‘To my most beautiful girls, You have my whole heart. Can’t wait to see what’s in store for our family. Love you both forever - Your T’

You started to cry. You thought you’d run out of tears but clearly not. He brushed his thumb under your eye catching the tears, pressing a kiss to your hair. You sniffled back more tears and held up the bear towards Teddy. She looked but didn’t exactly have the best attention span yet. She just stayed tucked to Trent happy in his arms, her little hand sprawled on him. It caused you to let out a small giggle before you mouthed a thank you to Trent. He just rocked back and forth with Teddy and gave you a sweet smile and a wink as you grabbed for the first box. Both were small but you went for the smallest first. Your jaw slacked a little opening it. It was an unbelievable diamond signet ring with the initial ‘T’. It was way too nice, extravagant almost. You’d have it forever but what you really loved was that it was the first thing you had that you imagined you could pass down for Teddy could to have one day.

You opened the remaining box to see a necklace with a gold and pale pink pendant. You held the charm with embedded letters in your palm. You looked at the word ‘mama’ inscribed on it. You couldn’t believe that that’s who you were now. Mama to Teddy Alexander-Arnold. You blinked your eyes to pull back some tears and took a deep breath. You flicked your eyes up to Trent and Teddy, the two most important people in your life, for the rest of your life before standing up.

“So what do you think of your room, baby girl, huh?” You cooed coming to stroke her back. Trent turned her to show her all the things in her room. You smiled at them as he picked up items and explained them to her. She just looked on while he held up little items going through one by one asking what she thought. In a bittersweet way you felt as if you had been replaced. His eyes only on her. Teddy just babbled along with a squeal and a squeak.

“Didn’t mummy do a good job for you?” He said hushed in the same tone as you, kissing her cheek. Then Trent sat back down on the couch in her room. He patted the seat next to him. “My girls. Hmm?” He looked up at you with the most loving smile. Okay, maybe you hadn’t been replaced maybe he had just made room to love both of you.

“So did they win yesterday?” You cooed, coming to sit next to him. You kissed Teddy and cuddled up to them both.

“You mean we” Trent quipped and you rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah, baby, we did.” He laughed a little “but I honestly have no idea what happened. I know Dom got a goal but I will find out more when I go into AXA.” He didn’t pick his head up to look at you when he spoke, his gaze was completely fixed on Teddy. You wiped a little bubble of drool from the corner of her mouth that you thought was adorable. Everything she did was adorable.

Unfortunately, Trent had to get back to regularly scheduled programming; to work. It was torture for Trent to have to leave you and her to go into training but he managed demanding you sent him updates hourly. Teddy didn’t really do all that much though so the updates wouldn’t be that interesting to anyone else. That said, to you and Trent though every little thing was equally exciting as it was endearing. Dianne was coming over soon to be with you for support while he was out. Trent definitely hadn’t really felt great about you being home alone since the hospital despite your reassurance. Before she came, you sat in the living room of your beautiful home with your daughter and it all just felt surreal for the moment. When did all this happen? You thought to yourself. Sometimes you couldn’t believe a silly conversation you had on a street corner spiraled into all this, into a baby. A complete whirlwind. You had Teddy in a little Moses basket while you leaned around you to pluck out all the notes from the flowers and gifts you had received to write out thank you cards. The stack was thick It was going to be a long process but it had to be done. You genuinely appreciated all of them. After your hand got tired from writing and you took some time to feed Teddy you looked at her little face and decided you wanted someone else to see just how cute she was so you called Lauren. You had FaceTimed her in the hospital after she was first born but Lauren wanted to see as much of Teddy as possible until she could meet in person.

“Hellooo” you whispered fairly quietly, still burping your baby girl on your shoulder. When Lauren answered she had her phone laying on the sink counter of her bathroom facing the ceiling while she did her makeup. You smiled when her face finally came on the screen as she picked up her phone.

“Hiii mummmy. Who is that gorgeous girll!?” She managed to keep her squeal almost as quiet as your voice.

“Say Hi Ted.” You moved the phone for Lauren to see her face that was leaned on your shoulder. Teddy opened her mouth with the idea moving towards the phone with a tiny grunt. “No, no, no, baby girl.” You giggled pulling it away from her. You and Lauren caught up on her life. Even though it had only been a little over a full day of life with Teddy it was important to you not to make everything about your baby. You wanted to listen to Lauren. Things happening in her life were just as significant. So you yapped away often interspersed with Teddy adding in some gurgles.

“Oh! You know who wanted to congratulate you?” She started to laugh. It peaked your interest. Most people you really knew or cared about had already reached out directly. “I saw Chase at a bar. Well I was out and it came up. You had her and he said congratulations.” She laughed rolling her eyes, understanding how insane it was for the man to even talk to her about you.

“Ew! Lauren… Don’t ever say that name in front of my baby again. I decline that congratulations. Absolutely not.” You laughed but it definitely put a bad taste in your mouth. “Oh Di’s here I have to go…” you told Lauren and ended your call knowing you’d likely call her again tomorrow. Like changing of the guards, a few hours later Dianne was gone and Trent was coming home. When he came back from training you walked towards the front door with Teddy to greet him. She didn’t know it yet but she would be excited to see him.

“My baby bear!” Trent cooed. A massive childish grin pulled across his face. His eyes glimmered the second he saw her and her eyes lit up just the same. “You’re so beautiful, aren’t you? Did you have a good 2nd day in the world with mummy and nana?” He carefully pulled her out from your arms and into his. He kissed her all over, swaying back and forth continuously rattling away to her about his own day like she understood everything he was saying.

“Just take a nap baby” Trent cooed, pulling you further back into him. You had retreated to your bedroom exhausted. You laid back on your bed tucked in Trent’s arms with Teddy on your chest, all three of you completely spent from the last 72 hours.

“T, I don’t want to be away from her.” You turned your head back to Trent, resting your chin on your shoulder. You were serious. You really didn’t want to spend a second apart from Teddy but you were totally drained.

“Just close your eyes for a little, baby, okay? I’ll sit right here with her next to you. We’re right here.” He stroked his hand up your arm. You sat up and handed Teddy to him gently before rolling over to his side settling into the bedding that had never felt more comfortable. “I’ll keep my hand on you. You’ll know she’s here with me.” You nodded and eventually dozed off taking a much needed nap. An hour or so later your eyes began to flutter open in the warm dwindling evening light. You peeked one eye open to see trent holding Teddy in his arms with his phone camera facing them

“Whose that? Is that Teddy and daddy? What do you think, Ted? Think you look like daddy?” He cooed, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. Her eyes lit up looking at him through the phone. “I’m gonna take care of you and mummy forever. Yeah?” He squeezed her gently. She cooed making vowel sounds. You reached out and placed your hand onto Trent’s warm skin.

“Think she looks like you, hmm?” You giggled squeezing his thigh then moving over in the bed to lean your head into the nook of the inside of Trent’s elbow. You looked at your little girl gazing back at you making an identical face to his.

“Well… yeah. Don’t you?” He looked at you and gently turned Teddy’s head towards you and squished his cheek to hers for a comparison. “C���mon, baby. She’s my little twin.” Trent was very proud of his creation. You laughed at him, obviously you were kidding. Their similarities were very very evident. You grabbed Trent’s phone from him to take a photo of them.

“Can you smile for me, my little Teddy bear?” You pinched her chubby cheek and she did what would be considered the best attempt at a smile for a newborn baby.

“Yeah, like be so real right now… she’s perfect.” Trent took his phone back and inspected the photos with a big grin. “Gotta send this one to Jude. I’ve been trying to explain how much she looks like me.” Trent had been sending pictures of your little girl to all his friends who hadn’t met her in person yet. Jude in particular was having a field day getting updates. He was claiming he was the favorite uncle already despite it being a day, despite him not actually being related, despite him being in another country, he was still sure he was the favorite uncle.

You tucked into bed for an attempt at actual sleep. You had coaxed Teddy into her own sleep but you weren’t really she even understood the concept of night time yet. You were mentally preparing to be living by her schedule for the foreseeable future. Teddy was really mellow and slept a lot of the day, would wake to feed and then doze off again. It was definitely adorable but it was definitely equally as difficult. You had made a plan for her to be in the nursery. That was the plan but she got up frequently through the night; hungry. She was very hungry and you were very tired everytime it was your turn to walk over to her room. In the moment of rare down time you cuddled into bed with Trent laying on your side. He wrapped you in his arms whispering behind your ear how much he loved you. How much he cared about you. How proud he was of you. The way his warm minty breath hit the back of your ear had you feeling a way you had almost forgotten you could in the last 48 hours. You pushed your ass back into hin. His breath hitched and moved his lips down to nibble on your neck, sucking sweetly on your sensitive skin. You almost let out a pathetic moan just from being in his embrace and the feeling of his lips. It felt so good to be back alone with him under his touch. It was all so familiar and yet entirely different now that there was a third person in the house. You could feel Trent starting to get hard behind you. His semi hard cock tucked in his boxers brushing up against you.

“Thissss.” He laughed a little, the air from his breaths hitting your skin. “Yeah, this right here is going to be difficult. I didn’t plan on the time I’d have to be away from mummy.” He joked before he rolled over onto his back dramatically with a laugh. You rolled over onto yours and turned your head to look at him.

“Oh poor T…” you teased him. He was complaining about not getting to have sex meanwhile you were enduring all the joyous symptomatic effects post birth. He rubbed his hands over his face and puffed out some air. “You did this to yourself, you were the one ‘oh let me cum inside yada yada… now look.” You gestured to the less than sexy pajamas you were in.

“Hey… you’re still very very hot baby by the way so don’t gimme that. Also, I enjoyed each and every time I did that. I’m not complaining. I’ll do it again.” He gave you a pompous smile. He was proud of himself having sex with you, getting you pregnant, having a baby, becoming a dad. As he should be but right now your body could care less about his pride.

“Again!??? T! You need to stay at least a yard away from me for a bit.” You laughed at him, shimmying over in bed to distance yourselves.

“You’ll come crawling back to me… I know you, baby. You have never been very good at ignoring me.” He teased squeezing at your arm, leaning over and pressing a wet kiss onto your cheek with a ‘mwah’ sound, “You love me, can’t get enough” he laughed as you dramatically wiped your hand over your cheek pretending to be grossed out but the film of saliva it left. You always secretly like it when he did that. “Oh T! Mmm that feels so good. Let me make you a daddy.” He mocked your voice and accent. “Jokes on you, baby, innit. I took you up on the offer.” He teased you back. You rolled your eyes at his bad impersonation before you kissed his bare shoulder. You leaned away from his theatrics to check the baby monitor. You and Trent made a little game-plan for who would be ‘on duty’ during certain hours of the night. Just knowing he’d be with you was doing wonders for your nerves. You survived your first night with Teddy outside hospital at home. Barely, maybe… at least the best you could. After that your days and nights just blended together into one big chunk of feeding, snuggling, napping and changing. And even as difficult as it was every time she looked up at you, clinging to you, it made it all worth it.

It was hard to get ready with a baby. Thankfully, Trent was home that morning, he had the whole day off so he rocked Teddy, standing in your wardrobe watching on while you haphazardly pulled on Hill House Nap dress. It would have to do for now. You weren’t exactly fit to turn out a look at the minute. You came to grab Teddy to feed her before both your families arrived and sent Trent down to talk to the chef about the meal.

You hadn’t really had a moment to think so thankfully you were able to give blanket ideas of what you wanted for a lunch you were having for everyone to get together to your party planner. The plan was to have close family and friends over to meet Teddy. Frankly, you’d usually manage something like this on your own but you couldn’t be asked. To be fair, your planner went above and beyond for this. It was elaborate. You walked into your back garden with Teddy clinging to your chest to scope it all out. It was so beautiful and whimsical, lots of browns and tan colors. Pampas grass arrangements on the table paired with little bears and lots of balloons. You thanked her and she and her team got out of the way before the first person arrived. No one else but good old George. Trent answered the front door and gave him a big hug.

“Mateeeee, congratulations! Where is she?” George asked, walking through the entryway eager to meet what he said was going to be ‘an upgrade for a new best friend.’

“Thanks, bro. They’re both outside.” Trent gripped his shoulder bringing him in the house. George handed him a present. “You didn’t have to bring anything, honestly George.” Trent laughed.

“My mum told me I had to. She’s coming a little later with dad:” George shrugged. Trent grew up going to primary school with George before he moved schools for football. His whole family stayed close with George’s, their respective brother’s ages aligning closely. The relationship was probably one of the reasons he was able to stay so grounded. It was normal as if at 17 he was just in school not gunning for a spot in the first eleven. The boys walked into the kitchen where you had gone after checking out outside. “Wow… Trentski 2.0 hmm?” George lowered his voice a little walking towards you. You hummed. He gave you a hug and asked if you were doing okay before focusing on your new baby. The three of you caught up chatting while Teddy contributed very valuable ‘puh’ and ‘bah’ noises smacking her lips together trying to nom on Trent’s face as he held her before more people started to arrive. It was mostly just Trent’s family, until finally, your own. Your dad knocked on the door and judging from who was already inside you knew it had to be them. So you cheerily walked to the door holding your baby.

“Want to meet my mummy and daddy? Meet auntie Winnie? What do you think, my little teddy bear?” You cooed, smushing a kiss on her soft skin. You opened the door with one hand. Your parents' faces dropped into silent gasps.

“Oh my goodness, look at her.” Your mum sang coming to hug you. You wrapped your free arm around her and picked your head up to see your dad. His face had transitioned into a proud beaming smile seeing you hold your baby.

“We are so excited to meet you.” Your dad cooed, stroking his hand over her, kissing you on the forehead. “Teddy girl, you are already very very loved.” He was right. It was so special to have all your family and friends here that could make it to meet her.

“She’s absolutely perfect.” Winnie pouted looking at you holding her.

“Well come in! I think you know everyone here… if you don’t I’ll introduce you.” You babbled walking further into your house towards the back garden signaling your family to follow. Your parents and Winnie brought an unnecessary amount of gifts for you. So you asked your sister to just put them upstairs for now, thanking them preemptively. Trent got up from his conversation with his brothers and welcomed your family with big hugs. Everyone mingled. George talked with you and Winnie as he watched Trent hold your daughter.

“She is literally Trent… it’s mad.” He spoke looking at you for confirmation. You nodded with a smile.

“The funny thing is, I really thought I was there too.” You joked and George rolled his eyes at you. As much as you loved that they looked so similar there was a part of you that was a tinge jealous of Trent that when you looked at Teddy, you knew she was his daughter. You had to think about it a little harder to find your features in her. You sat and ate a lovely lunch. You had an avocado toastie with burrata and tomatoes. You got about half way through it before you were full. You weren’t really that hungry though so for the remainder you just held Teddy as people tried to grab her attention, taking a million photos. It was all perfect, the weather, the people, the memories you were making. When everyone had finished lunch a lot of them left and got on their way but Tyler and George decided to hang around for a bit. You stayed outside with your mum, Winnie, and Dianne. Your dad taking a nap jet lagged. Dianne and your mum ranted on and on about new born babies; things to do and not to do, how perfect they are, how difficult they can be, what your body is like after birth. Winnie shivered at the latter.

“I think I need a drink. That was a lot to hear.” She laughed, shaking her head trying to get the images that were just explained and unfortunately burned into her memory to disappear. The boys were all inside Tyler holding Teddy as they all watched a footie match in the cinema.

“So the plan’s back in motion now, yeah? You had her.” Tyler spoke, turning his body to Trent and then gesturing to Teddy. “All good to go? What do you think, Ted?” He asked Trent and the little baby in his arms. Teddy just spittled a little. “Erm… not the answer I was looking for but I’ll take it as a yes.” Tyler laughed before Trent came to pick Teddy up with an unnecessary grunt from how ‘heavy’ she was from Tyler’s arms and brought her to sit with him. Cleaning up around her pouty lips.

“You’ve had it for about a year now, mate. Maybe she should hold onto it. You know, on her finger… it serves no purpose in a safe.” George quipped at Trent with a smug face and a raised eyebrow. Trent nodded and shrugged coyly. You had given Trent a beautiful baby girl. If that wasn’t love, Trent wasn’t sure what was… but that wasn’t all he wanted, all he needed. He needed to give you everything in return and that included his last name. He wanted to be a family. One unit. Trent, Teddy and Y/N Alexander- Arnold.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 7 xx

[dbnightingale24]

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A Stepcest Love Story About Jim

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Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

I think my internet has finally stopped hating me, but I can't be too sure. We'll see what happens.

Word Count: 5,531

Warning(s): SMUT (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Stepcest, Infidelity, Step-Daughter/Step-Father relations, Family Drama, Forbidden Love, Lying, Sneaking Around, Emotional Cheating, Drinking, Self Loathing, FLUFF, Crying...I think that's it?

Summary: You and Jim have discovered that you don't want to stop, and don't even want to entertain the idea of it.

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I do not give permission/consent for my stories/works to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior/relationship, this is for entertainment purposes only.

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Chapter 4

You and Jim are horrible people, there’s no other way to put it. Jim woke you up the next day with his head between your legs, and you didn’t even attempt to stop him. Nor did you stop him when he told you get on top of him and get yourself off on him. The first two hours of the day were spent getting lost in one another and, for a moment, you forgot why it was wrong.

Then, you heard your Mother the second you opened the basement door.

“Well, why did ya sleep on the sofa, Jim?!” she snapped.

“My kids are still asleep, Y/M/N,” he huffed as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “You were a mess yesterday and-”

“I wasn’t that bad.”

“I had to carry you up the stairs in the middle of the movie.”

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I got nervous and they seemed to take more to-”

“That’s been your reason for every time your shit faced now, and it’s always Y/N’s fault.”

“I don’t say that it is-”

“Yes you do, and she’s only here because you asked her to come! Jesus, where’s the woman I met? The woman I fell in love with?!” he snipped and your heart broke.

You wished you’d never come back.

“And you? What do you think?” your Mother asked once she spotted you trying to creep out of the kitchen.

“Please, leave me out-”

“What do you think?” she snapped.

You let out a heavy sigh, because you knew how the rest of the day was going to go.

“I think I should’ve never come back,” you sighed as you leaned against the entry way. “I feel like you do better when we don’t see each other, and I’m not even mad about that. That’s how things have always been between us, and I don’t know why I expected it to change. Since I’ve been home, you’ve been drinking non-stop and an emotional wreck. You asked me to come back and I feel like it’s something I shouldn’t have done. I messed up your progress,” you finished softly as you toyed with your fingers, avoiding her hurt and irritated gaze.

As far as she was concerned, you and Jim were ganging up on her. Hell, if you hadn’t spent the previous night and that morning fucking her husband, you would’ve been able to feel like you weren’t ganging up on her. However, the guilt was eating you alive instantly, and it only got worse when she grabbed a bottle of whiskey off of the top of the fridge. 

It wasn’t even 10am and she’d snapped.

She was drunk off of her ass by 12pm, which meant that it was up to you to save the day for your...step-siblings. 

The day wasn’t even hard because you didn’t like them, it was hard because of what you’d done. With their Father. It didn’t help that they really had seemed to take a liking to you, and they wanted to do everything with you. Especially after your Mother passed out at 1:30pm.

“You alright, Angel?” Jim asked softly once he’d closed the door behind him to your bedroom.

The room that was right next to your Mother’s.

“It’s fine. They go back tomorrow and I’ll go to Ciara’s-”

“I want you here-”

“We already had this talk. Once was enough, Jim.”

“Angel-”

“It’s wrong! You’re married to her! Even if you get a divorce, she’s still my Mother! We can’t just...no, this can’t happen again.”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about ya all day, Angel,” he confessed softly as he made his way closer to your bed.

“You’ve been thinkin’ about fuckin’ me.”

“No, I’ve been thinkin’ about you,” he confirmed softly. “Your smile, the way you laugh, the sound of your laugh, how caring and sincere you are, how thoughtful-”

“Jim-”

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he promised as his right hand cupped the side of your face. “Have you been thinking about me?”

“Jim-”

“Have you?” he asked sincerely as he focused your gaze on him.

It slipped out before you even had a chance to stop yourself.

“Yes.”

You honestly hadn’t meant to get so caught up in the kiss, and you hadn’t meant to give him a blowjob. However, both of those things happened, which led to him fucking senseless in your bed.

Which is, once again, right next to your Mother’s bedroom. The bedroom that she shares with your Stepfather.

You couldn’t get out of that house fast enough the following day. However, when you got to Ciara’s, she wasn’t proving to be much help either. 

“I’m sorry, you two did what?! How many times?!” she squealed before she took a sip of wine.

“We only did that position once, but we had sex.. a few times,” you mumbled, very clearly ashamed of yourself. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“You’re in love,” she shrugged as if it was the most simple thing in the world.

“I’m in love with my Stepfather. He’s married to my Mother-”

“Your Mother is awful.”

“Be that as it may, she’s my Mother. She wanted to start a new chapter with Jim, and her new found sense of-”

“She did this, love. She created this fake version of herself, then let it all come crumbling down when you came home. She invited you back, then had a meltdown on the both of you. Is this right? Of course not. However, do I understand it? Of course. I know you feel terrible, and I would too, but lets not pretend you meant for any of this to happen. Hell, you didn’t even know she’d gotten married. Yes, it’s wrong, but you both did your best to fight this and seemed like the harder you two fought against it, the more she went out of her way to be problematic,” she sighed as your phone went off again. “What’s goin’ on there?”

“Jim and my Mother have been messaging me all day,” you muttered with an eye roll. “She wants me to come back because she feels awful and is tired of driving me away. He wants me to come back because he misses me and wants to fall asleep next to me. I’m staying far the fuck away from both of them.” 

“You’ll be goin’ back soon enough, and that should help,” she smiled mournfully.

Honestly? It should’ve. It should’ve been enough to keep you focused and your thoughts away from all of the other bullshit. It’s your final year, and you have so many things to figure out. You need to decide on a job, figuring out living arrangements, where you’re going to live, and a million other things. However, Jim was persistent. If he wasn’t calling and texting, he was sending you flowers with the cutest notes attached. 

By day four, you’d crumbled and told him to come to Ciara’s. 

He took you out to dinner at a cute little restaurant outside of town, and spent the entire time picking your brain. He wanted to know if you were excited or nervous about graduating (you told him that it’s an evil mixture of both), he wanted to know if there’s anything in particular you’re excited about getting back to (you told him about the cute dog adoption center that’s not too far from campus that you visit when you’re feeling too overwhelmed), and he wanted to know your favorite things (that had you rambling longer than you meant to).

Yes, the whole thing was sweet, but you rightfully had your reservations.

“Jim, how do you know this is real? No to be a total fucking cunt, but this will be your second failed marriage. What makes you so sure this will work?” you asked softly before you took a sip of your drink.

“This isn’t like what Yvonne and I did. I was in a good marriage and I fucked it up. I fucked it up for selfish reasons and looked for everyone to blame but myself. This...I honestly never knew this side to your Mum. If I had, I wouldn’t have married her in the first place. Yvonne and I...it started for all the wrong reasons. It started for selfish reasons on both of our parts, but this isn’t wrong or selfish, I promise.”

“Your wife made you unhappy-”

“Don’t. This isn’t something I started because I was havin’ a bad day. You just...you’re so beautiful, Angel. I don’t just mean on the outside. You step up when you shouldn’t have to, you’re thoughtful, you’re so damn funny, you’re witty, you’re patient, you’re painfully considerate...I could go on for hours. When everything started to fall apart, you stepped up and kept a level head. Between the two of us, you were the more mature and calm one. Hell, this whole thing started because I can’t control my feelings for you.”

“What about when I make you mad?” you asked timidly as you toyed with your fingers. 

“You’re not your Mum, Angel. We can talk things out and make it work. We can have an actual relationship that works.”

“Your kids-”

“They love you-”

“As their step-sister.”

“They’ll get used to it.”

“Jim-”

“Angel, I love you and I want this with you. I know I have a lot to prove, but I’m willing to try if you are. We’ll...test this out for a few months and you can decide-”

“A few months?! Jim, she’s my Mother-”

“I’m filing for a divorce, Angel. No matter what we do, I’m filing for a divorce. Things aren’t what they were and they never will be again,” he confessed with a scoff, but you could hear the pain in his voice.

He really thought he got it right with your Mother.

“We can’t...we have to take our time with this,” you told him softly as you tried to force yourself to come to terms with what you were saying.

What you were agreeing to.

“We can do whatever you want, Angel. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“We should wait until we have sex again.”

“If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do,” he promised with a nod as the waiter came over to ask if you both if you wanted anything else.

You folded like a lawn chair the second you and Jim were in front of Ciara’s house. You pulled him to the backseat of his car and had him until you were both spent. He ended up sleeping over Ciara’s that night, and he held you so close, as if he were afraid you’d run off in the night.

No, none of it had gone ideally. You and Jim spent every moment you could together, and he made it so easy to ignore the guilt. Every kiss, every touch, every date, every laugh...he made you forget how wrong all of it was. He made you forget that the both of you were committing the worst kind of betrayal.

Which is why you’re now pacing around your dorm room, waiting for his phone call. It doesn’t matter that you have an essay you need to start on, or that you have job applications to fill out, because you miss him and he makes you feel like a lovesick idiot. It also doesn’t help that he sent you a beautiful bouquet of pink peonies earlier in the day.

The second your phone goes off, you almost pounce to answer it.

“Baby?” you ask breathlessly, a smile coming to your lips.

A horrible way to answer the phone for the current situation you’re in, honestly. 

“It’s me, Angel,” he chuckles softly. “I miss you too.”

“In my defense I ‘aven’t been this excited to speak to someone...ever,” you giggle softly and he laughs. “How was your day?”

“A bit stressful, but it was good. I hate drivin’.”

“Why were you driving?”

“Had some things to take care of,” he sighs as someone knocks on your door. “Who’s that?”

“I’ve no clue. I didn’t make any plans with anyone,” you shrug as you make your way to the door and unlock it. “JIM!” you scream, throwing your phone to the side and jumping on him as your legs wrap around him, and he laughs softly. “Why are you here?! How?!” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Hi to you too, Angel,” he laughs, carrying you inside with a smile, before kicking the door shut behind him. “I missed you, and I wanted you to have a good few days before...”

“Before what?” you question with a cocked eyebrow.

“When I go back....I’m filing.”

“Jim...”

“I want this, Angel. I want us. I’m not gonna regret this and I hope you won’t either.”

“I just...Jim...”

“Do you still want this?”

“You know I do, but...you have to really commit. You’re leaving your wife for her daughter. Are you truly sure this is something you want? Are ya sure you want me?”

“Get dressed,” he smiles once he sets you down, “I’ve got somewhere to-”

He’s cut off by a knock on your door, “Y/N, are you in? It’s Mum,” your Mother proclaims from the other side of your door.

FUCK. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“What are ya doin’ here? Give us a moment, I just got out of the shower!” you panic as both you and Jim try to find a place to hide him.

“Well, Jim is gonna be gone for a few days to go and see a friend, so I figured I should come and see you. We didn’t end on the best of terms.”

“Mum, I really don’t have any issue with you or Jim. It’s just better for you if-”

“I know I haven’t always been the best Mother, but I want to change that. With time, you and Jim will grow to like each other and get along. I know I don’t always act like it, but I want all of this to work. I want us to be a proper family,” she confesses, remorse painfully clear in her voice.

By the look in his eyes, you can tell that Jim wants to say something, but he can’t without giving himself away.

“I don’t hate Jim,” you prattle on as you push him into your bathroom and motion for him to lay down in the bathtub. 

You’re quick to run to the sink and wet your hair, while trying to swallow down all of the anxiety and guilt.

“I don’t hate either of you,” you continue as you look yourself over in the mirror, “I just felt that it would be better if I finished holiday with Ciara. Let you two work on things.”

Lie, lie, lie.

“I just feel like me being around only makes things worse for you, and I don’t want that,” you explain, making your way back over to the shower. “Silence your phone,” you whisper before closing the shower curtain.

Taking a deep breath, you open the door to your room, “I really wish you would’ve called.”

“I figured it would be fine since you didn’t get back too long ago. You don’t have too much work, do ya? We could grab a quick bite,” she smiles hopefully.

You truthfully don’t know what to do, because it’s not like the trip from Dublin to London is an easy one, but Jim also made the same trek and is currently hiding in your bathroom. Seeing as he is about to file for a divorce just to be with you, maybe you should go to dinner with her.

However, Jim did get here first.

“What are you doin’ tomorrow?” you ask, hopeful that she won’t be too hurt.

It’s not as if you’re saying no all together, just not right now.

“Leaving,” she laughs awkwardly. “I figured I’d head back early tomorrow. I’m hoping Jim will come back early and we can talk things out. We got into a bit of an argument before he left, and I’m afraid I’ve really made a mess of things,” she admits shyly.

Fuck.

“Let me grab my things and we’ll go,” you smile solemnly.

Quickly grabbing your phone, you text Jim a quick ‘I’m sorry’, before grabbing your purse and key to your dorm.

“Is there any place in particular that you wanna go to?” you ask, locking the door to your bedroom.

“I figured we’d go somewhere you love. My treat,” she smiles and it only makes you feel worse. 

“We can go to Chez Jules, and don’t worry about me, I can pay for-”

“I’m surprisin’ ya, I should at least pay for dinner. Besides, I put you through a tough Summer-”

“It’s alright-”

“Just let me be a proper Mum for once. Please?”

You hate yourself. You hate yourself to your core. Yes, you and her have always had a turbulent relationship, but never in a million years did you see this scenario playing out as it is. Hell, you honestly didn’t think you two would be in each other’s lives at this point. You and Jim falling in love isn’t even a result of you being angry with her, it just happened. Hell, you fought it so hard because you do actually love your Mother.

Now, it’s just a big mess. You don’t want to hurt her, but you can’t pretend your feelings for Jim aren’t real. You honestly wish you never came home for the Summer.

“How does it feel to be back?” your Mother asks once you’re both seated.

“It’s weird,” you laugh awkwardly, “I can’t believe this is my final year.”

“I’m so proud. Ya did what I couldn’t.”

“You can always go back whenever you want. You know that.”

“It was never for me. I don’t think an of this was ever for me,” she laughs softly.

You don’t even catch yourself as you mumble, “don’t I know it,” slips out.

“ ‘m sorry, Y/N. I really am.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“You’re hurt and you’re angry. You have every right to be. This past Summer...I don’t know why I reacted like I did. I don’t know why I always react the way I do to you. I do love you, I just don’t know how to be a Mother. I never have and I never wanted to be one. I just...I really thought it was a role I could grow in to. I’d like to think I’m better now, but we both know that I’m not and it doesn’t even matter now. You’re an adult all on your own and your own person.”

“Can we not do this in public? I’m too sober for an argument-”

“I don’t want to argue, I want to be honest. I’m trying to...I want to apologize. Ya didn’t know about Jim and for me to react the way I did...I just felt like he was taken with you more than I would’ve liked,” she sighs as the waitress comes over.

“Y/N, I already know your order,” she laughs before turning her attention to your Mother, “for you?”

“Gin,” she smiles.

“Do you need a moment for food?”

“Um, I’ll have the pork loin steak.”

“Mum!”

“Jesus, I can afford it, as can you,” she laughs. “What do ya want?”

“I don’t-”

“She’ll take the braised shoulder of lamb,” your Mother nods, grabbing your menu and handing it back to the waitress.

“Mum, we can’t-”

“It’s a girl’s night!”

“I have class in the morning,” you lie with a giggle. “I can’t be out too late.”

“I won’t keep ya too long,” she smiles. “I just felt like this would be good for us. I was afraid if I called, ya’d say no.”

“I just...time apart has always been best for us.”

“That’s not how it should be. Jim loves ya, his kids love ya, and I just...I got jealous. You getting to the house before me...I should’ve waited, because I knew you would’ve been hurt. It was a big decision and I didn’t even take you into consideration. I was just so in love with Jim and I felt like...I figured I could finally do it, ya know? Be a proper wife and Mother. Be someone everyone could finally be proud of. I didn’t tell Jim much about my past, because it’s not anything to be proud of, but I did tell him about you. I told him that you’re the only thing I’ve done that’s right. I knew you two would get along, but I still had my reservations. The way I had been with him was a side of me you’d never seen, and I was afraid you’d resent me for being better with him and his kids than I ever was with you.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me about him?” you ask, swirling your drink in the glass.

“I don’t know. We were in our own little bubble, and it was nice. I didn’t want to ruin it, and I know you’ve never been a fan of the men I’ve been with, which I can’t blame ya for. I was just scared. It got so bad so fast, and I know it’s on me. I’ve never actually committed to this part of myself and failed before I even gave myself a chance. I let you down, again, and I’m sorry.”

You say nothing as a new wave of guilt washes over you as your dinner is delivered. How could you fuck up this badly? How could you let yourself end up in a situation that will end so horribly?

“I know it was all in my head though,” she continues after the waitress walks away. “Jim barely knows you and you don’t see him like that. You don’t know him well enough to look at him in that light. It was just my own insecurities getting in the way, and I’ll do better. I’ll be better for the both of ya.”

“What did you and Jim argue about before he left?” you ask, doing your best to fight back your tears as you cut up your lamb,

“He’s rightfully angry with me. The drinking, the way I acted around his children, the way I treated you...he said he doesn’t know how to be with me anymore. I was drunk, we both raised our voices, I threw some things...it’s not lookin’ good,” she chuckles humorlessly as she wipes away a few tears. 

“What do you think-”

“He wants to leave me,” she interrupts with a shrug. “He didn’t come right out and say it, but he said it in so many words.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t, but I can tell that he really is at his end. Even with sex-”

“Sex?” you eagerly cut off before you mean to.

You hate that you care so much. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not goin’ to give you too much information,” she laughs softly. “We barely ever have it, and I feel like I have to beg for it anyway. When we do, he never seems to be...in the moment. He always feels a million miles away, and it feels so empty. It was never like this before, and I know it’s on me. I made such a mess of everything this Summer.”

“Maybe you two just need some time apart,” you suggest, knowing damn well that, that won’t solve anything.

The man is waiting for you in your dorm room.

“He seemed pretty put off before he left. I tried to talk to him, but he just...he walked out. He doesn’t love me anymore, and I have no one to blame but myself.”

“Well, why do you do this shite? Huh? You finally had what you wanted-”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, throwing her fork down and drying her eyes with the backs of her hand. “It was goin’ too good. I got too nervous and I just...I let my fears win. I took it out on you, I took it out on him...I can’t fix it,” she sniffles, drying her eyes.

“I can talk to him for you,” you offer quietly.

You fucking idiot.

“My estranged daughter pleading my case for me? That’s even more pathetic,” she scoffs, before taking a sip of her drink then picking up her fork. “Anyway, tell me about school! Are you more excited to be back, or to be graduatin’ soon?”

For the rest of dinner, you try to keep up appearances, but your mind is going a million miles a minute. You know what you need to do, but you also know how much it’s going to hurt. You and Jim have spent so much time trying to build some form of a relationship, and you’re about to destroy it. 

To be fair, the relationship should’ve never happened in the first place.

“You’ll tell me when you’re home and safe?” you ask once you two are back at your dorm.

“Of course,” she smiles, wrapping you in a tight hug, “thank you for this. I really needed it.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll let you get back to your studies,” she laughs awkwardly as she lets go of you. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you smile with a nod before unlocking your door, “let me know when you’re at your hostel, yeah?”

“I promise.”

“Well...goodnight,” you nod once you’re in your room.”

“Night.”

You wait until you see her turn the corridor down the hall before finally closing the door, and letting out a heavy sigh. You know what comes next is gonna break both you and Jim’s heart.

“I know that sigh,” he comments as you close the door.

“Ya can’t leave her, Jim. Make it work.”

“Angel-”

“She’s so in love with you and she’s so sorry-”

“Stop it.”

“She’s my Mother! What do you want me to do-”

“Why do you keep trying to spare her feelings? She did this!”

“Jim, please-”

“I love you, Angel. I’m in love with you-”

“She’s your wife, Jim. She’s your wife and I’m her daughter. Your stepdaughter!”

“I didn’t even know you until I met you! This isn’t some relationship that we built up over years! I met you and we just-”

“Jim...please,” you sob.

He lets out a heavy as he wraps his arms around you, “please don’t cry.”

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be the reason you walk away-”

“She did this! She lied, she drank herself into a stupor, she lied-”

“You married her,” you sob softly, looking up to meet his heartbroken gaze. “I can’t hurt her like this, Jim. I can’t be the reason something else-”

“You’ve never taken anything from her!”

“Jim...”

“I love you! What’s the point of staying with her if my heart isn’t in it? What’s the point of faking it-”

“You two can find that happiness again-”

“I’ve found it with you, Angel,” he husks as he pins you against the wall.

“Jim...stop,” you moan as he kisses down your neck.

“No.”

“Jim-”

“Say it like you mean it. If you really want me to stop, I’ll stop,” he promises, unbuttoning your shorts and pushing them down along with your panties. 

“This...this is the last time,” you whimper as he starts teasing your clit.

“Sure it is, Angel,” he chuckles as he hoists you up and forces your legs around his waist. “Whatever you say.”

“Fuck...Jim!”

“I know, Angel. I need you too,” he groans as you undo his jeans, and force them down.

“I love you so much!”

“Do ya? Do ya want me?”

You know where he’s going with this, and you know it can’t go any farther.

“You know it’s wrong, Jim! We can’t keep on as we are!”

“Lets see how wrong we can be tonight, shall we?” he chuckles as he thrust himself inside of you, barely giving you a chance to breathe before he starts loving you hard and fast.

“Jim...don’t stop!’

“That’s a good girl.”

Yes, you’re going to end things with Jim and do your best to move on from this completely fucked up situation, but for now? For now you just want to live in this moment.

You just want to be with him. 

“I want to be with you,” he pants as he lays you on your bed, before resuming his pace and fucking you brutally hard. “I love you!”

“Oh my God!”

You don’t care if you two wake up the whole damn building.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same! Lie to me and tell me you don’t feel the same!”

“I fucking love...Jesus...Jim! Don’t stop!”

“That’s right, Angel. Take everything I’m givin’ ya,” he husks, pinning your hands above your head as starts biting and sucking on your neck.

“Oh fuck!”

“I’ve missed you so much, my Angel,” he grunts, the feel of his breath on your neck making you clench him tighter. “Fuck, just suckin’ me in!”

“Jim...aht...please!”

“Give it to me,” he groans as you ball your hands into fists.

You squirt hard as you lull your head back and arch your back,”fuck!”

“So good for me, Angel,” he groans as he pulls out.

Before you can whine in protest, he flips you as if you weigh nothing, and you’re instantly ready to go again.

“Hands and knees for me, Angel,” he demands gruffly, and you instantly comply, arching your back and curling your toes in anticipation. “You think we can just stop?” he asks rhetorically, gripping your hips tight before thrusting into you.

“Ah shit!”

“You’re mine, Angel. You’re mine, just like I’m yours,” he whispers seductively against the shell of your ear, thrusting harder and faster.

“Jim...I love you! Fuck, I love you so much! God...that’s it!” you cry out, strangling your pillows as he hits that spot he’s only ever been able to find. “Right fuckin’ there! Don’t stop!”

“Say it! Fuckin’ tell me what I need to hear!”

“ ‘m yours, Jim! All yours, always!”

“Fuck, not gonna...cum with me Angel! Please!” he husks pathetically, resting his head in the crook of your neck, kissing it softly as he coats your inner walls with his desire.

You have no choice but to obey, and you yell his name in the process, as mind numbing pleasure washes over you.

“So good for me, my Angel. So sweet,” he coos as he rides out both of your highs.

You’re quick to collapse onto your bed, trying to clear the euphoric clouds out 

of your head. You don’t know why you thought you’d be able to think clearly 

around him, especially when you’re already so emotional. You know what the 

right thing to do is, but it’s not what you want. It’s not what either of you want.

You hate this so much.

“We can figure this out,” Jim promises softly as he gets in bed next to 

you, instantly pulling you close.

“Jim...what we’re doing is wrong. What we’ve been doing is wrong-”

“I want to be with you.”

“You’re her husband and she’s my Mother. Jim, it should’ve never 

gotten this far. We’re horrible people.”

“Are you afraid of her hating you?”

“I can deal with her hating me. Shes always resented me a bit and 

that’s fine, I’ve always been able to handle it. What’s hard to handle is me 

being the reason she’s heartbroken. She doesn’t deserve that.”

“It wouldn’t be-”

“Jim you may have been the one who initiated everything, but it’s not 

like I ever tell you no and meant it. I want every part of ya just as much as you 

want every part of me.”

“I don’t wanna stop, Angel. I don’t want you with anyone else and I 

don’t wanna be with anyone else.”

“I love you and I’m so happy when we’re together. So fuckin’ happy, 

but this isn’t right. You leaving her for me...Jim, we can’t.”

“So, this is it?”

“We don’t have a choice.”

“We do, you just don’t like the other option.”

“Jim, for as angry as ya are, I know you don’t wanna hurt her.”

“I don’t, but you’re who I’ve always been lookin’ for. We were made for 

each other.”

“Jim...we have to let each other go.”

“After this week,” he sighs heavily, pressing a kiss to the back of your 

neck, “I’ll stay away.”

“Jim, I do love you, it’s just that...this is the right thing to do. Give it a 

few months, and everything will be back to how it was. It’ll hurt for a while, but 

it’ll be alright.”

“How it is now is how it always should be,” he mumbles into your hair 

before pressing a soft kiss into it. “Lets sleep, you have a lot of work to do in 

the morning.”

It’s not like this isn’t ripping your heart up. You want to be with Jim more than 

anything, but you can’t handle hurting your Mother like this. The ultimate 

betrayal. You have to get over this, because what’s the point? Your 

happiness shouldn’t have to make your Mother miserable. No, this is for the 

best. Yes, it’ll hurt and drive you insane for a while, but it won’t always be like 

this. It’ll get better.

Or so you hope.

~~

[nathanbatemanfucker]

The Bee and the Bear, Chapter 2: Back in the Beef

summary: carmy takes the first step to mending his relationship with you.

pairing: carmy berzatto x fem!reader (Bee)

contents: 18+/NSFW/eventual smut, grief, death of family member, explicit language, pining, longing

wc: 2.3k

an: back with part 2! i really love these two and the whole “will they, won’t they” vibes they give off. like obviously they’re in love and have been avoiding their whole lives, rippppp. let me know if i missed any warnings. thoughts/comments/reblogs are always appreciated!

series masterlist

chapter 1: And Then There Were 4 < |

Carmy usually doesn’t answer the phone– not because he doesn’t want to and not because he doesn’t care but because he’s busy. There’s always something to do. He’s always needed in the present, always necessary with each new step forward and that lends itself to be distant with those who aren’t right in front of you. But, when you call Carmy to let him know that The Beef is his, his phone is in his hand. He nearly drops it, watching as your contact name and an outdated picture of the two of you pop up on his screen.

He doesn’t decline the call, he watches it ring and ring until it goes to voicemail. And when your face disappears from the screen, his chest goes empty. The voicemail icon replaces the missed call notification on his phone and his hands grow clammy. He shoves his phone back into his coat pocket and fishes out a cigarette, lighting it quickly. After a few pulls he feels much more equipped to listen to your message.

This had to be about Mikey.

You’ve given up on him and stopped calling years ago when he failed to reciprocate your attempts at connection. Carmy’s sure that Mikey’s death is the only thing that could make you tolerate him after that. The ship he so desperately wanted to get on but ignored has sailed. But, maybe this call could be a lifeboat. Maybe through loss, he could get you back.

Were you calling to give him your condolences? To chew him out for not showing up to his brother’s funeral? He could take something like that from Sugar or Richie, even his mother– but not from you. From you, it would feel like a knife to the heart. He listens to the voicemail anyway.

Too much time has passed since he’s heard your voice. It's different and yet somehow all the same— a little deeper and less girlish— but still so smooth and sweet. You sound nervous and the beginning makes him chuckle under his breath in a white puff of air from the cold.

“Oh fuck, sorry. H-Hi, Carmen. It’s…it’s me. Nat and I just went through Mikey’s will and well…he left it to you. The Beef I mean, it’s yours. Sugar really needs you to come home to figure this out.”

Carmy goes breathless, eyes shutting as his mind starts to whirl. The restaurant he never got to work in is now his? Mikey had left him The Beef? Mikey had hardly ever trusted him with anything once he went away, and now is the time that he wants his skills? When he’s dead?

There’s a swell of emotions in his chest that make it tighten— grief, anger, devastation— and he’s about to hang up by smashing the phone into the ground when your voice plays again.

Your voice is softer this time, but infused with desperation and even some grit: “Just come home and help your fucking sister. Please, Carmy.”

He has no choice now. Not when you sound like that. He goes inside and quits his job. On the walk home he books a plane ticket and once inside he packs everything he can fit in a suitcase and calls around for storage units.

It’s time to go back to The Beef.

—

Carmy puts the ad out for a sous before he’s even finished packing. A day later when he gets a call from a chef named Sydney.

Sydney’s been waiting for something like this to roll around. She scours and picks through ads no matter the time of day: while she cases her route, in her ice-block of a mail truck on lunch, at 2 a.m. when she’s up writing recipe notes in her tiny black book. Before he’s even seen her resume he can feel that she’s the one but tells her to bring her resume to stag at the end of the week. He needs to feel the click in person before he just hires her on, especially with the shitshow he knows he’s about to put her through.

Mikey wasn’t wrong: The Beef is a mess. Nothing is clean, there’s no technique or nuisance, and the staff is rowdy and combative. Thank god for Sydney and her training, her tact. He’d be drowning otherwise. He was right about her, they’re perfect partners, finishing each other’s thoughts and movements, and ideas.

Richie’s hovering, ignoring his responsibilities to fuck with Carmy when he says, “Still can’t believe you let her walk out like that.”

Carmy meets Richie’s playful gaze with a glare, “Cousin, do me a favor and shut the fuck up.”

“Let who walk out?” Sydney asks curiously, eyes trained on her prep.

“Bee,” Fak supplies, perched on the counter behind them.

“Shut up, Fak,” Carmy pleads.

Sydney glances over her shoulder at him, “And who are you again?”

“I’m Fak. The Fak. Well there are multiple Faks but—“

Carmy cuts him off quickly, not in the mood to hear another one of his rants, “He fixes things for us. By the way Fak, aren’t you suppose to be, I don’t know, fucking working?”

“You got it.”

Sydney tries to keep her voice nonchalant, hoping that Carmy won’t feel pressured by her when she asks, “Who’s Bee?”

“Childhood friend,” He says reluctantly. “Can we focus on prep?”

Sydney ducks her head, that regret from before surging inside of her, “Yes, chef.”

“Thank you, chef.”

For the first time since he’s arrived, Carmy’s grateful for the insanity of The Beef. For the way that Tina and Ebra and Marcus and Richie never stop talking a mile a minute because they distract him from thoughts of you. All the guilt and shame that comes with the way he treated everyone of course, but most of all you. He’d always gotten vibes from you, even before he did on his own, Richie and Mikey and Sugar were trying to get him to open his eyes. Somewhere along the way he convinced himself that freeing you of him was the best for everyone involved.

“Cousin.” Richie’s voice pulls him out of his robotic routine.

Carmy’s eyes dart to the kitchen’s entrance but his hands don’t stop, “Fuck, what is it?”

When Richie’s voice is that quiet and earnest there’s a problem. Your face popping around Richie’s arm is enough of an answer and Carmy’s heart drops into his stomach. This wasn’t how he hoped to see you again. He’s been crafting a text for days, trying to figure out the best way to ask you to talk. But talking about all of it sounds so daunting. The double-edged sword of picking and prodding at all your shared wounds in some hopes of healing.

You glare up at Richie, “Richie, where’s Sugar? Why are you bein’ a fucking weirdo?”

“Oh, another person. Ok, ok,” Sydney nods, before turning back to her prep.

“Bee– what’re you doing here?” Carmy’s voice breaks and he winces at the way it sounds. It's not that he’s disappointed to see you, he just never wants you around this place. He’s all too aware that that sounds too much like Mikey, but quickly pushes the thought into the back of his mind.

Sydney’s curiosity peaks again at the sight of you. What are the odds that the seemingly infamous Bee would show up after Carmy avoided talking about her? 100%. She waves her knife at you, “Hi, I’m Sydney. Carmy’s sous.”

You smile at the woman, eyes lingering on her beautiful, patterned scarf for a moment, “Hi Sydney, good to meet you. Since Richie’s not answering my questions, have you seen Sugar?”

“Sugar’s not here,” Richie says simply, leaning up against the wall as eyes flicker between you and Carmy.

“She’s not here,” You repeat, your face twisting with confusion.

Carmy wipes his hands on his apron, stepping over to you with eyes full of concern, “Why? What’s wrong? What’s up?”

The way he’s looking at you makes your heart flutter in your chest. Goddamn those fucking blue eyes, so soft and so sad. “Oh, it’s nothing, really. She just— she told me to drop this off to her. Why would she not be here?

Carmy groans, scrubbing his hand over his face. His fucking sister. Always having to step in, always having to meddle and get in her hands in places they don’t belong. She’d set you— both of you up.

“I’ll be right back, Syd.”

“Gotcha.”

“Come with me,” He murmurs. You realize a beat too late that he's talking to you, so he grabs your hand and pulls you back to Mikey’s office. To his office. He releases your hand quickly, “Uh, what is it?”

You ignore the sweat that slicks your palms, trying not to think about whose it is, “Some paperwork that you’d need for the restaurant? I think it’s the deed, y’know switching it from Mikey to you. You’ll need it for like inspection or taxes or—“

He takes the envelope from your hands, his fingers brushing your own, “Thank you, thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.”

He does that thing he always does, squinting at you for a moment that shows he’s turning a thought over and over in his head.

You smile awkwardly at him, though that familiar look on his face endears him to you, “What?”

“Do you wanna hang out tomorrow night?” He asks in a mumbled rush.

He speaks so quickly that you almost don’t understand him, except that you’ve been waiting for him to ask you that question since you were 18.

“What?”

He shrugs, running a hand through his messy hair, “Hang out, do you want to like do something?”

“With me?”

He raises a brow like he doesn’t know what you mean, “Yeah, you could come to my apartment? I could cook.”

“Oh. Um, yeah, sure. It’s been a while.”

He laughs, nodding a few times, “Yeah it has.”

You chuckle, licking your lips, “I imagine this is what Sugar wanted.”

His eyes track your mouth before he can stop himself but he forces his gaze back up, “Yeah, she’s smart like that.”

“She is. I’ll let her know her plan worked,” You tease.

He laughs again— a short, bright sound, “Cool, cool. So, I’ll text you my address?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Should I bring anything?”

“Some wine, maybe?”

“Any kind?”

“Anything you want, Bee.”

And god the way he says your name. The way he’s looking at you again with those stupidly pretty blue eyes. You never stood a chance.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He sighs in relief now that the hard part is done, his smile widening at the thought of you sitting at his kitchen table, “Heard.”

You snort, shaking your head at his stupid chef talk, “Heard.”

The two of you are too wrapped up in each other, floating in your bubble of awkward bliss to have heard that Sydney’s knife stopped chopping, or that Richie stopped fucking with someone else. Too occupied to hear their steps get closer and closer to the office, or that the tips of their heads are peaking around the corner. That is until you playfully push his shoulder, pushing his body in a way that brings them into his peripheral vision.

Carmy’s eyes go wide for a moment, his head tilting in inquiry as he looks at Sydney and Richie, “You two joinin’ forces, huh?”

Sydney gives you a sheepish smile, her eyes full of regret, “We were just— we were um—“

“Good to meet you, Sydney. Richie,” You say as you snake between the two of them.

Richie dips to press a kiss to your temple, “See you, sweetheart.”

Carmy returns to his station without a word to either of them even when they join him back in the kitchen. For a while there’s silence again– though this time it is clearly awkward, full of things unsaid.

Breaking the silence, Richie does his best impression of Carmy, “Hang out, do you want to like do something?”

Carmy points the knife at him, scowling, “Oh, fuck you Richie! Why don’t you fuck off.”

Sydney tries to hold in her laughter and fails, giggling, “She must be down pretty for that to have worked.”

Carmy’s brows raise so high it’s comical, “Oh, really?”

“I’m fuckin’ with you, Carm.”

“Yeah, fuck you, fuck the both of you,” He says through a laugh.

Richie does fuck off, going back out to the front of house to do his job for once. It leaves Sydney and Carmy in the hustle and bustle of prep again.

She bumps his shoulder with her own, “You deserve it, Carmy.”

His mouth twitches as he glances over at her and when their eyes meet, he knows she’s being genuine. “Thanks, Syd. Can we like, maybe never talk about this again?”

“Totally, yeah. For sure. Absolutely,” She agrees easily and they both laugh, deep in their bellies.

–

You drive home with a lightness in your step, one you are pointedly trying to ignore because this is nothing but two friends seeing each other after being apart for some while. You have a partner to go home, a life to go home to. And Carmy’s never given you any indication that this was more than friendship. He wouldn’t have left you out in the cold if it was more…right? He wouldn’t do this to you if he loved you like that, would he? It doesn’t matter how many times you try to rationalize what has and hasn’t happened between you and Carmy– it never makes it hurt less.

That night a wave of nostalgia washes over you as you lay in your childhood bedroom, thinking about Carmy. You feel 16 again, staring up at the faded purple paint covered in droves of flowers. As you close your eyes, you answer some of those questions that popped into your mind at the thought of calling him.

He is the machine you thought he’d become. But his eyes are just as deep, but sadder. His laugh is the same, a little awkward but just as genuine. The flush in his cheeks proves that his heart still beats. He is that boy you fell in love with all those years ago, even as the man he’s become.

He’s your Carmy. Your Bear. It makes you ache.

| > chapter 3: Like a Bear to a Hive

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[choke-me-joey]

Eddie Munson x fem metalhead cheerleader

Summary: Based on this - how Eddie met his not so typical cheerleader girlfriend and a little exploration of their relationship.

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, smoking, underage drinking, drug use, swearing, flirting, violence, smut.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 3

The following Wednesday, you were called into a meeting with your coach, which meant you missed the second half of your English class that afternoon.

Eddie found you immediately afterwards as you were coming out of the coach's office.

"So, what's the damage?"

"Well I'm not getting kicked off the squad. Turns out Anderson has been harassing girls for months and several people saw him basically trap and grope me at the party and came forward to say something so...my spot is safe. Anderson however is on the verge of being expelled, definitely kicked off the football team." You said with a smug smile, adjusting your uniform skirt.

"Do you...actually enjoy it?" Eddie asks, completely not what you were expecting him to say. "Like the whole-" he makes a limp gesture as if he was waving pom poms around. "-thing?"

You chew your lip for a second. "Yeah, I do actually. I just don't buy into the whole cheerleader stereotypes. We're not all self obsessed airheads who only care about boys and whether or not our lip gloss looks good, y'know?"

"I never thought that about you." Eddie admits, leaning against the wall of lockers. You smile, placing a hand on his cheek as the bell rings. You sigh.

"I gotta get to biology. I have practice tonight but-"

"Want me to pick you up?" Shit, he was shooting his shot, he guessed. "I just got the new Metallica record, i could drive us up to the lake, we could hang out and listen to it. If you want."

"Eddie Munson, are you asking me on a date?" You smirk. "On a school night?"

He held his hands up. "Guilty."

You shook your head, jokingly tutting at him. "Think you could hold off on listening to it until Friday night? I have a shit ton of homework and extra practice this week, handsome, I'm sorry."

"Ah, how could I ever stay mad at the babe who beat down a football player for me? It's all good sweetheart, I can wait. But, you can bring the pizza, I'll bring the beer and the comfiest fucking van bed you've ever laid on."

"A bed?" You smirk, your eyebrow cocking.

"What, you wanna sit bolt upright in the front of the van all night? Be my guest." Eddie shrugs. "I, however, will be comfy as fuck in the back, hogging all the beer and pizza."

"Well, I guess I'll have to join you in the back then, won't I? See how comfy this bed really is." You grin. "I really gotta get going or Mr Clarke is gonna have my head. See ya, freak."

"See ya, airhead." Eddie chuckles, winking at you. You suddenly stop dead in your tracks, a very convincing but entirely pretend worried look on your face.

"Wait, how does my lipgloss look?" You're not even wearing lipgloss, it's just chapstick, but he plays along.

Eddie barks out a laugh. "Uh....glossy?"

"Perfect." You dash back over to him and stand up on your tip toes, placing a kiss on his cheek before darting off down the hall. He touches the chapstick residue on his skin and can't help smiling to himself like a fucking idiot.

***

By the time Friday rolls around, you and Eddie are both desperate to see each other. You had to miss Hellfire Club this week because of extra cheer practice and Ms O'Donnell had been particularly stern about people talking in her classes this week, so your time spent together was minimal.

You bounce up to Eddie, who is waiting for you by his van in the parking lot when the final bell rings on Friday afternoon, wearing a Black Sabbath shirt, sinfully tight jeans and your grubby Converse, looking every inch the not cheerleader.

"Hey stranger, miss me?" You smile, nudging him with your arm.

"Hmm, did I miss the pretty girl in my life who makes my English class a little bit more tolerable and somehow always thwarts my incredibly thought our DnD campaigns?" Eddie pretends to think, tapping a finger on his chin.

"You totally did."

"What about you, airhead? You miss me?"

"Always, oh, Eddie the days without you are so long!" You fake swoon, back of your hand pressed against your forehead like the actresses of those black and white movies your grandma used to watch. You drop your hand, both of you laughing. "Duh, of course I did. Extra biology homework and extra tumbling drills will never be as fun as your Vecna campaign."

"I knew it." Eddie pumps his fist in the air. "I'm the best dungeon master of all time, you can go ahead and say it."

You smirk, deciding to toy with him. You moan out, loudly.

"Oh, dungeon master, you're so good, oh yes, dungeon master, don't stop with your long and hard camp-" Your fake moaning is muffled by Eddie's hand clamping over your mouth. A few disgusted looking students are looking over at you both, but you don't care. You smirk under his hand.

"Are you done?" He says, laughing softly although his cheeks are bright red. How he had enough blood to flush his cheeks when the rest of it was busy heading south was beyond him. Apparently he had a thing for you calling him by his title, who knew?

And the hand across the mouth? That was totally doing it for you too. You nod. He removes his hand from your face much to your disappointment. "Get in the van, airhead."

"Yes, dungeon master."

"Stop."

***

"I've gotta learn this," Eddie states, as the solo for Master of Puppets fills your ears for the 4th time that evening. "I've been dying to learn something new to play. And this is metal as fuck."

"You play guitar?" You ask from your spot on the, indeed comfy as fuck, bed in the back of Eddie's van. He nods, grinning. "That's hot. And cool as shit."

"Come and see my band play at The Hideout one night," Eddie offers, passing you another beer. "We've recently upped our fan base from 5 to 8 drunks, so we're a pretty big deal."

"Oh my god, you're practically famous! Don't forget me when all those groupies are throwing themselves at you." You tease and Eddie rolls his eyes, cracking open his own beer.

"Well, unless they're a DnD playing, Ozzy loving cheerleader called Y/N, I'm not interested." He admits and you smile coyly.

"Cute," you say, trying to play it off like there weren't a million butterflies participating in a mosh pit in your belly right now. "And, uh, if they were a DnD playing, Ozzy loving cheerleader called Y/N, would you take as long to kiss them as you have with me?"

Eddie freezes, blinking at you. You sit up, shoulder to shoulder with him. "Eddie?"

"Hm?"

"Now would be a really good time to kiss me." You whisper, smiling, nudging his shoulder with yours.

"You know I was planning on doing that later, right?" Eddie chuckles softly, placing his beer down. You shrug.

"I'm impatient."

"I can tell you're gonna be trouble." Eddie's voice is low as he turns into you, his lips inches from yours. You smile softly.

"Maybe. I can be really good, too." You mumble and Eddie, with a hum of amusement, finally, finally leans in and presses his lips to yours, his hand coming up to hold your jaw.

It's a soft, innocent kiss at first, but you feel your entire body tingling at his touch. He goes to pull away and you pull him back in with a "nuh uh, nuh uh", and he smiles against your mouth, his tongue flicking along your bottom lip. You open your mouth immediately, allowing him to taste you properly. You both groan softly, your tongues exploring every inch of each other's mouths.

The kiss grows deeper, heavier, hotter, and you allow Eddie to lay you down onto the next of blankets and pillows, moving his body on top of yours.

"Hey, hey, hey, is this okay?" Eddie breaks the kiss, his breathing heavy and voice sounding a little strained as Welcome Home (Sanitarium) wails away to itself.

"More than okay," you try and pull him into another kiss, but he hesitates. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing, god you're...fucking perfect, you're so beautiful." Eddie smiles softly down at you. He then grunts, doing his best to subtly shift his jeans, his cock straining painfully against the zipper.

"Do you not want to...?"

"God I fucking want to, sweetheart. Look, I don't know about you but...this isn't just some hook up for me. I really, really like you."

Your face softens and you brush some of his hair back. "Eddie...I really, really like you too."

He smiles. "Good. So I don't wanna do this in the back of my shitty van, at least, not the first time."

"But it's so comfy!" You grin, wiggling on the blanket making Eddie laugh, dropping his head down on to your shoulder. He peppers kisses along your neck and jawline. You let out a soft moan. "If you don't want that first time to happen in your shitty van you better stop that."

"Okay, okay, but you're really pretty though, s'hard to stop kissing you," Eddie grins, pecking your lips once more. "M'sorry I made you wait so long."

"You should be, you made me miss out on kisses like that for weeks?! God damn, Munson." You giggle and he laughs softly, diving in for another kiss. It's like you needed each other to breathe at this point, your lips brushing over and over each other. "God, I really want you to fuck me," you breathe against his mouth and he groans into yours, the hardness in his jeans aching.

"I know, baby, fuck you have no idea how much this is killing me but I wanna do this properly, okay?"

"Yeah? Gonna buy me flowers and dinner and lay me down on a bed covered in rose petals before you make love to me?" You tease, both of you sitting up.

"I can do all of the above apart from the making love part," Eddie laughs. "I don't think I have the patience for that sweetheart."

"Good, cos neither do I." You wink at him before climbing into the passenger seat giggling as Eddie smacks your ass. "Come on, lover boy, let's go get some pizza."

Taglist

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[slut4thebroken]

Exposure Therapy pt. 4

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | Dr. Crane tests a new drug on you and punishes your disobedience.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, dub con, p in v sex, crying, breeding, unprotected sex, drugs, coercion, impact play, bondage, degradation, humiliation, emotional manipulation, non consensual groping, angst, stockholm syndrome

Words | 6.6k

Notes | Sorry I did not mean to make this chapter so long lol but there's not really a good place for me to cut it unless I want a super short chapter.

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 3

The next few days were relatively uneventful. You ate, tried to sleep, and showered, not really interacting with anyone. You also didn’t see Dr. Crane that whole time either. Which was nice, but you were anxiously awaiting his return for three straight days. Three days of barely sleeping, panicking when someone walked down the hall or opened your cell. But the fourth day came and you knew that when the orderly took you from your cell, you were being taken to him. 

“Have a seat.” He said, finishing writing something, but pausing when you didn’t move. “Is something wrong?” That made you scoff. 

“Seriously? You drugged and raped me.” 

“With your consent.” He added. 

“Through coercion!” 

“What’s done is done. Sit.” You clenched your jaw and your fists, digging your nails into your palms, but decided to do what he said. “Thank you. I apologize for being gone so long, there was something I had to attend to.” It took everything in you to not tell him that you don’t fucking care and it was the best three days you’ve had since he kidnapped you. 

“However I did have some time to work on some modifications for the drug you tried.” You scoffed at the way he made it seem like it was voluntary. “It should still lower your inhibitions,” He said as he pulled out his desk drawer and took out a syringe, “but it shouldn’t necessarily make you aroused. We’re going to find out.” His lips turned up into a small smirk, making you narrow your eyes at him. 

“I’m not fucking taking that shit again.” You said bitterly, watching the way his smirk turned into an amused expression. 

“It truly baffles me how you still think you have a choice.” He said, standing up and walking toward you, making you stand to back away from him. “If I need to use force, I’m more than willing to do so.” 

“Fuck you.”   

He stopped walking and sighed, then went back to his desk, calling someone to come in. When a large man opened and closed the door, your breath caught in your throat. 

“I just need you to hold her still while I administer this. Afterwards she shouldn’t be a problem.” He said to the orderly, who nodded and walked toward you. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You yelled, trying to move away from him, but you accidentally cornered yourself. You could either go toward the orderly, or toward Dr. Crane. The man didn’t give you a chance to decide before he was lunging toward you and pushing you back until you slammed into the wall, knocking the breath out of you and making your vision spin. In your disoriented state, Dr. Crane was able to easily grab your face and turn your head to inject the drug. When they both stepped back, you stayed leaning against the wall, head pounding from the force of him pushing you into it. 

“That’ll be all, thank you.”

You whimpered at the throbbing pain, but he paid no mind to your dramatics. Letting yourself slide down the wall until you were sitting against it and hugging your knees, you couldn’t hold down the sob crawling up your throat.   

“I don’t wanna do it again.” You whimpered, grabbing the sides of your head and resting your face on your knees. You babbled out incoherent protests and pleas, trying not to give in to the feeling flooding your brain, calming you down, making the emotions you were feeling only seconds ago, all but disappear, now a distant thought. When your sobbing died down after a few minutes, he moved his chair back and turned to face you. 

“Look at me.” You obeyed, wiping your tear stained cheeks with a sniffle. “How do you feel?” 

“Normal? I don’t- I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You croaked. 

“What do you mean by normal?” 

“I feel like how I used to feel.” 

“Elaborate.” He said, quickly growing impatient. 

“Before… you. I feel like how I felt before you- before you… took me.” 

“You feel like you can trust me?” You just nodded in response. “Come here and sit down.” You obeyed, sitting across from him, waiting for his next command. 

“Do you feel like you would be honest with me?” Another silent nod. “Do you think you could lie?” You hesitated at that. 

“I- I’m not sure.” 

“Let’s find out. I’m going to ask something I know the answer to, I want you to lie. What did you see during the experiment?” 

“You.” 

“Another just to be sure… You moved to Gotham a year ago, yes or no?”

“N-no?” Despite the simple questions, your brain was still getting confused over what he wanted. 

“Interesting. So you’ll tell me anything I ask?” You nodded hesitantly. “What is your biggest fear?” 

 “You...” You said quietly, feeling awkward saying it to his face. 

“What was your biggest fear?” 

“Being raped.”   

“Do you think that with time, you could become willing and eager to participate in my experiments?” 

“Um… yes? I think? I would now.” You said, making his brows raise. 

“You would?” You just nodded. “What about your treatment? Are you willing and eager to continue that now too?”

“If that’s what you want, yes…” You said quietly, cheeks growing warm. 

“Fascinating. You’re still aware of your fears, but this has completely overridden it.” You internally beamed at the fact that he seemed pleased with you. “I’d like to try something.” He said as he opened the briefcase on his desk, then put on the mask. He walked over to you and you waited patiently. 

“You’re not scared?” He asked, tilting his head. 

“No?” He hummed in acknowledgment, then sprayed the toxin in your face, making you flinch back and start coughing. Now that you knew what to expect, it wasn’t as bad, but it was still unpleasant. 

“Look at me.” He said eagerly and you obeyed. “What do you see?” 

“Just you.” Then, after you remembered how this conversation went last time, added, “Dr. Crane. I see Dr. Crane’s face.” He took a step back, staring down at you, making you squirm. “Did I say the wrong thing?” You asked quietly, wondering why he was looking at you like that. 

“As long as it was the truth, then no.” You breathed a sigh of relief at that. As you stared up at him, it looked like his face was glitching between him and the scarecrow mask he put on. “What are you seeing now?”

“Still you, but also… the mask? It’s changing.” 

“My toxin is wearing off significantly faster.” He muttered to himself. Then, to you, “I’m going to try something. Stand up.” You rose from your seat and waited as he moved closer to you. He placed a hand on your neck and squeezed lightly. “That doesn’t frighten you?”

“…No?”

“Does it arouse you?”

“A little I guess.” He moved his hand down to grope your breast, making your breath hitch. 

“And how does this make you feel?” He asked, tone void of any emotion. 

“Good?”

“What about this?” He cupped your sex, making your hips flinch forward. 

“Good.” You said through a breath.

“Do you want me to keep doing it?” You nodded and he pulled back completely, walking to his desk, making you almost whine. 

“Bring in Dr. Bowman.” He said into the phone. “I want to try something else. When he gets here, you’ll listen to me, correct?” 

“Yes.”

“Good.” He said, then the door was being opened and a man was walking inside. “Thank you for coming, I’ll only need a moment of your time.”

“No problem. What can I do for you?” 

“I need you to touch her.” 

“What?” You and the doctor both asked in unison. 

“I just need to verify something.” When he hesitated, Dr. Crane continued. “I am aware of your history here and I’m giving you permission, so what’s the problem?” He waited a moment as if he was expecting Dr. Crane to say that this was all a joke. When he didn’t, he shrugged, moving toward you. 

“If you say so.” He said and you stepped back, looking to the other man for help. 

“Stay.” He demanded, making your legs freeze. 

“Where?” The other doctor asked as he looked you up and down with revolting hunger. 

“Start with her breasts.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. You wanted to recoil away from him as he reached out, but you couldn’t make yourself do it. He groped you slow but firm and you couldn’t hide the grimace on your face. “What about that?” He addressed you this time. 

“Don’t like it…” You muttered. 

“You can touch between her legs- over her clothes.” He said, making you whine in disfavor. The doctor eagerly obeyed, cupping your sex more aggressively than Dr. Crane had. He rubbed your clit through your pants and you held back tears as you couldn’t make yourself move away. 

“And that?” All you could do was shake your head while you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for it to be over. “Thank you, Dr. Bowman, that’ll be all.” Despite the obvious dismissal, the man didn’t move yet. “Leave.” He growled, making the man huff but obey. He waited until the door slammed shut before talking to you again. 

“You seem to have formed a connection to me specifically. If I had to guess why… maybe because I administered the drug. Although that’s unlikely.” He said, walking back over to his desk to write down his thoughts and telling you to sit back down. “Other than the occasional escort and other patients, you're mostly only seeing me… Can you answer me honestly again?” He said, looking up from his writing.

“Yes.” 

“Have you formed some kind of attachment or feelings toward me?” Your brows furrowed as you stared at him, caught off guard by the question. 

Have you? Even though right now it feels like you have, you remember how you felt four days ago when the drug wore off and how you felt every time you were around him before that. But you also remember how you used to feel during your sessions, just sitting and talking, fully trusting him. 

“I think… I did? Before you brought me here. But it- it’s hard to tell now.” 

“How so?”

“I can’t tell if it’s really how I feel or not.” 

“So you’re cognizant of the fact that the drug is changing your perception?” You nodded. “And that doesn’t bother you?” 

“Not right now. But I remember that it bothered me last time after it wore off.” He hummed in acknowledgment, writing something down, then taking off his glasses and furrowing his brows as he thought. 

“It’s almost like I’ve accelerated the stockholm syndrome process rather than simply alter your feelings.” He muttered to himself.

“You think I have stockholm syndrome?” You asked, interrupting his thoughts. 

“Early stage, but yes.” You frowned and looked away from him. “Does that bother you?” 

“I feel like it’s supposed to.”

“But it doesn’t?” You shook your head. 

He asked you questions for a while before someone opened the door, reminding him of an appointment. He checked his watch and sighed, then dismissed you, calling an orderly to escort you back to your cell. 

The drugs wore off and you had a long crying session, trying to make your head feel like your own again. You tried to think plainly about what he did- drug you against your will, grope you, and have someone else grope you. It doesn’t matter what your headspace was, he still did that, knowing you wouldn’t want him to. And that was just today. 

But those thoughts were getting muddled in your brain. Instead, the more clear ones were how he had a normal conversation with you when you were on his lap, how he gave you relief from that aphrodisiac even after he was done and trying to work, and the way he smiled when you said something that pleased him. 

You were getting confused. So you tried to repeat all the bad things he did to you, but the more you said it, the harder it was to remember. 

You saw him over a week later- you know because you started counting after the second day. And you grew to miss his calm presence. The nurses and orderlies were mean and the patients were all bat shit crazy, as well as mean. You hated being around everyone because of that. 

As you sat across from him, anxiously picking at your cuticles and bouncing your leg, you were reminded of your first session with him. 

“You were gone a long time.” You finally said, breaking the silence, making him look up from his work. 

“I have other things I need to attend to besides you.” He said plainly. Your stomach twisted and you averted your gaze to the ground, swallowing thickly. “I hear your behavior has improved.” All you could do was shrug in response, still not looking at him. 

“Is something wrong?” He sighed, making you look up at him. You were silent as you tried to think of a response. How can you answer when you don’t even truly know what is happening? 

“I feel like I’m going insane.” You said quietly, looking away from him and biting your bottom lip when it started trembling. 

“Insane?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You whispered, voice breaking. You blinked back tears, not wanting to embarrass yourself further. 

“I can only help you if you tell me.” His tone wasn’t empathetic, it was clinical and detached. 

“I don’t like being around anyone else here. And this past week was just so dull and- and long. It was so long. And I’m trying to make myself remember but it keeps getting foggier,” 

“Remember what?” 

“What you did. That I hate you.” You whimpered, not meeting his gaze. “I hate you because you ruined my life, but- but I just… What’s happening to me?” You whispered brokenly, hearing him let out a soft sigh. 

“I can give you something so you don’t feel like that.” He finally said, breaking the silence. “What I gave you last time.” 

“No- no. I don’t- want to not feel like that. I want to remember, I want to hate you. I want to… I want to leave.” You whispered the last part, unsure. 

“I can’t let you do that. Not in your current state.” You let out a choked sob, only this time you weren’t sure if it was because you were upset or relieved that he denied you…

“I don’t understand. Why me? Why did you take me?” You cried, watching his form become blurry from unshed tears. 

“The more I learn about your mind, the more intrigued I become.” He said simply. 

“Out of millions of people in Gotham, some who probably have more interesting minds than I do, you just had to pick me?” You scoffed. 

“Let’s not forget that you came to me.” 

“No.” You hissed. “I came to a psychologist who specialized in psychotherapy for the treatment of phobias. Not some fucking psycho doing illegal experiments on non consenting patients.” 

“Do not raise your voice at me,” 

“How are you so fucking calm?” You asked, louder than before. “How does none of this bother you? How can you so easily rape and drug me repeatedly?” 

“I do what I do because I am dedicated to my work.” 

“Bullshit! You’re just insecure and need to have power over everyone’s minds to make yourself feel like you’re above them but you’re not.”

“I recommend you choose your next words carefully.” He said lowly. 

“Or what? You’ll drug and rape me again? That trick’s getting old, doctor.” You spat, ignoring the way your heart was pounding in your chest. As he stared at you, you forced yourself to maintain eye contact. 

“You know, I was planning on having a nice conversation with you. Give you more of that drug, let you decide if you want to resume your treatment today or not.” He said, opening a drawer and taking out a syringe. “Now you’re going to spend the next week in isolation, tied down, getting more of this everyday.” He said, raising the syringe to indicate what he was talking about. 

“Unless you apologize and correct your behavior immediately.” 

“Apologize?” You scoffed. 

“For being a fucking brat and abusing my kindness.” He said harshly, not even raising his voice.  

“So- what, I tell you something we both know is true and now you’re going to have a tantrum about it? “Punish” me so you can regain control, is that it?” You did your best to hide the growing fear, trying to sound assertive. 

“You know what? Punishing you physically won’t do any good.” He said, opening the drawer and switching out the syringe for another. “Your mind however? Well you just confessed that one dose of this has already started to break you down. I shouldn’t need much more before you lose the battle to your own mind completely.” When he started walking toward you, you stood up and staggered back. 

“Be a good girl and let me do this and I won’t hurt you as much as I plan to.” He sneered and your body started trembling from his words. 

“Fuck you.” You spat. 

When he lunged at you and managed to push you into a wall, you shoved his chest, making him stagger back a step. You used that opportunity to run, but before you could even take two steps, he was grabbing your hair and yanking you backwards until you fell to the ground. He placed a knee on your chest, resting his weight on it, then used one hand to turn your head and painfully push your face into the floor while the other injected you. 

He waited impatiently for the drug to kick in before telling you to follow him as he grabbed the briefcase from his desk. You obeyed and he led you to an elevator, going down two floors. As you walked down the hallway, your eyes widened at the sight of the patients in the cells, some restrained, some not. Most screaming or crying or both. The ones who weren’t were just muttering things to themselves, staring blankly at the wall or floor. He stopped in front of a cell and unlocked it before leading you inside. 

“Mr. Williams, how are you?” The patient visibly got hit with a wave of panic when he walked in. He started shaking his head, muttering incoherently, body shaking under the straps of the bed he was on.  “Since you’re mostly immune to the toxin with that drug in your system, I’m not going to give you a mask.” He explained to you, opening the briefcase and taking out his mask and the fear toxin. 

“Do it.” He said, presenting the canister to you. 

“What?” You asked with wide eyes. 

“Take it.” He waited until you obeyed before continuing. “Do it.” 

“I- I don’t…”

“Now.” Your body stiffened at the harsh tone and you unwillingly stepped closer to the man. As you stood in front of him, you could make out some of the words he was muttering, like ‘no’ and ‘please.’ You hesitated, looking back at the man in the mask who just stared at you, waiting. As you slowly raised your hand, his muttering turned into sobs, begging you not to. 

“I- I’m sorry.” You whispered, knowing the effects of even a small dose and not wanting to make someone else experience that. You sprayed it at him, then took a step back, listening to the way his sobs turned into full blown wails and screams.  

“Good.” He said, startling you and making you turn to face him. 

“Why did you make me do that?” You frowned. You knew why. It was so that he could display his control over you. But the thought didn’t make much sense in your cloudy head. You blinked rapidly as you watched him start to glitch between burlap and skin, trying to make it stop and just see one. 

“I’ll make you a deal. You help me with my experiments and I’ll stop everything I’ve been doing to you. No more drugs, no more treatments, no more fear toxin. You live as a normal patient, but you assist me everyday.” Your frown deepened and you looked away from him. “It’s either you and them, or just them. The question is whether or not you’ll be able to live with yourself after being the cause of that every single day.” He gestured to the man behind you who was now writing under the restraints, still screaming and crying. 

“Think about it. As for right now, you still need to be punished for your behavior.” He said, walking out the room. Once the door was closed, he pulled off the mask and put it and the canister away before leading you somewhere. 

“Punished how?” You asked quietly, growing more and more nervous when he ignored you. Finally you reached a room and he opened the door, walking in behind you and locking the door as you eyed the room anxiously. It looked like a doctor's office. There were cabinets on a few of the walls, as well as a sink. The only difference was the restraints on the exam chair. 

“Sit.” He said, not looking at you as he walked over to a counter to set the briefcase on. You tentatively walked toward the chair and sat down, watching him. “Take off your clothes and sit back.” Your face flushed at his words, but you did what he said anyway, slowly removing your clothing, then hesitantly sitting back down. You eyed the stirrups nervously, hoping he would just pull out the bottom of the chair to make a table and have you lay down instead. But when has anything worked out for you here?

“Put your legs up.” Your blush deepened as your legs moved up on his command. He strapped you in, then attached the cuffs on either side of the chair to your wrists so that your arms stayed by your sides. When he walked back to the counter, you let out a shaky breath. 

“Do you like pain?” He asked, fidgeting with something before turning back around, mask in hand. 

“N-no?” 

“You have a cnc kink and you expect me to believe that?” He scoffed teasingly. He walked back over until he was next to you and your eyes moved between his face and the mask. 

“I- I like a little.” You said honestly, making him smile. 

“That’s good. I plan on inflicting more than a little so this should be a suitable punishment.” He placed the mask over your head backwards so that you couldn’t see through the eye holes in the front. When you didn’t feel or hear anything, you strained your ears, trying to get some indication of what he’s doing. You faintly heard a cabinet open and close, then a hand was placed on your thigh, making you jump. He rubbed up and down slowly, teasingly, and you tried not to squirm under his touch. 

“Have you ever used any bdsm toys before?” He lifted his hand so that only his fingertips touched your skin, raising goosebumps. 

“A few.” You squeaked out when his fingers grazed over your mound, just inches above your clit, to do the same to your other leg. 

“Arkham has quite a collection. I don’t particularly enjoy them myself, but a lot of the orderlies prefer that method of punishing patients, rather than your typical electroshock therapy or ice bath.” His fingers trailed all the way down to your ankle before slowly moving back up. 

“They like the extra amount of humiliation that it adds and in your case, I have a feeling you’ll enjoy that too, but your mind won’t.” He removed his hand and you stiffened in anticipation, then flinched when you felt his feather light touch on your stomach moving up to your chest. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even come from this. If you do, I won’t stop you, and you’ll have to accept the fact that you came from a punishment that had no intention of bringing you pleasure.” He said softly, moving up between your breasts. 

“As someone who’s studied psychology, I know what that can do to a person. You’re going to have to acknowledge that you enjoyed it- that you wanted it. Even if your mind disagrees, your body won’t lie to you.” He traced over your collar bones, then went down the outside of your breast, nowhere near your hardening nipple. 

“And once you give in to that fact, you’ll have to admit that the only reason you enjoyed it was because it was by my hand.” He grazed across your stomach, then up the outside of your other breast. “As we discovered last week, you only respond positively to my touch. Do you know why that is?” He asked, removing his hand as he waited for an answer. You shook your head and released a low whine. 

“Because you want my touch. You want me. Sure, your conscious mind might not be able to admit that, but your subconscious knows. The sooner you accept that, the sooner your time here will become more enjoyable.” You weren’t sure how to respond, but it didn’t seem like he expected you to. 

“Ready?” He asked, voice back at a normal volume. 

“For what,” A sharp smack on your clit had you crying out, at first from shock, but after a second from pain. It definitely wasn’t his hand, so if you had to guess it was probably a paddle. 

“I’m going to hit you until you break, I don’t care how long it takes. Do you understand?” You whined and squirmed in your binds, barely able to move. “Answer me.” He growled, emphasizing his words with another strike. 

“Y-yes! Yes, I- I understand.” 

The third time he hit you, you choked on a gasp. By the fifth time, you were letting out little sounds and breaths. By the tenth time you felt tears growing in your eyes. He barely paused between hits, never allowing you a genuine moment to get your bearings. And the mask made everything worse since you never knew when he was about to hit you again. After a few more he stopped, then strands of leather were being lightly dragged over your chest. 

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, trailing it over your nipples, then down to your stomach. 

“A flogger?” You choked out, body stiffening every time he removed it from your skin. 

“That’s right. Have you ever used one before?” His words almost sounded like praise, adding to the arousal quickly building in your stomach. 

“No.” 

“I’ve heard it can be quite painful- like knives cutting your skin, depending on how hard you hit. Shall we see if that’s true?” 

“No…” You whimpered, squirming away from the strands grazing your skin. 

“No?” You shook your head hesitantly. When the strands came down on your breast with a light slap, you flinched dramatically, making him chuckle under his breath. He hit you again, slightly harder this time, but it still didn’t hurt yet. In fact, you had to bite your lip to keep the sounds of pleasure in. He hit you three more times, then you heard footsteps before he started on your other breast. 

“You turn such a pretty shade of pink.” He said quietly, making you choke out an embarrassing sound. “Do you like it when I compliment you like that?” You nodded and he hit you slightly harder in response. “Use your words.” 

“Yes.” You said through a breath. After he finished the five hits, he trailed it down your stomach to between your legs, making you try to close them. 

“But you like it when I degrade and humiliate you too?” He asked, lightly dragging the strands over your sensitive clit, making your hips flinch. 

“Yes…” You whined. 

“I can tell. That’s why your pussy is dripping already.” You let out a choked moan as your whole face grew warm- the only positive part of wearing the mask. He brought the toy down lightly, teasing you, making you squirm in anticipation. 

“I bet you want me to fuck you too.” He said absentmindedly, lightly hitting you again. “You want my cock stretching that needy little cunt don’t you? Just give me the word and I’ll do it.” You whined as he purposefully brushed the strands over your clit. You did want that- really fucking bad. But can you say that out loud?

“I- I want…” He reached forward to lift the mask up enough to see your face and your blush burned brighter. 

“Go on. Be a good little whore and beg for it. Beg for your captor to fuck you.” You let out a long, needy whine, bucking your hips up as much as you could in the restraints. 

“I’m not giving you anything until you ask for it. I’m sick of you calling it rape when we both know you want it more than I do.” He scoffed, moving the toy up your leg slowly. 

“Fuck me…” You muttered, barely audible. 

“Speak up.” He said firmly, emphasizing it with a strike on your inner thigh. 

“Fuck me.” You whined, not looking at him. 

“I can’t fucking hear you.” He hit your other thigh, harder this time, and you swallowed down a whimper. 

“Fuck me! I want you to fuck me- Please.” You cried, feeling the blush spread down to your chest. He relented, holding the paddle and flogger in one hand so he could open his pants enough to free his cock. 

“Maybe I should’ve been more specific,” He started as he stroked his cock to full hardness, “I’m not going to fuck you yet.” He said, making you frown. “I’m just going to bury my cock in that tight little pussy and feel you clench around me every time I hit your clit. Maybe I’ll keep hitting you until you make me come, we’ll find out.” He shrugged, leaning down and spitting on your hole before lining himself up. 

You let out a low moan as he sunk in, not stopping until he was fully sheathed inside you. He groaned under his breath and closed his eyes for a second. Resting the flogger on your stomach, he readied the paddle in his right hand and pulled out just enough to have space to hit you. 

The first hit made you both release loud moans and you started squirming as you grew more eager for him to fuck you. He placed a strong hand on your hip and pushed you down. 

“Stop moving.” He hissed, making you freeze. He gave you another experimental hit, adjusted the position to have a better angle, then hit you again.  

He maintained a steady beat, not too hard, but hard enough that while he kept doing it, tears welled in your eyes. When he increased the intensity, you cried out, a few tears starting to fall.  

“It- it hurts, Dr. Crane, please.” You cried, trying to squirm away from the constant pain that was only getting worse. 

“You can take it.” He said and you squeezed your eyes shut while you shook your head. 

“Hurts too much.” You whined, making him slow to a stop. 

“I have a question for you.” He said, so you let your eyes flutter open. “How does it make you feel knowing that you’ve disappointed me?” Your brows furrowed at the question. 

“I- I didn’t mean to,” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“Bad…” 

“What about knowing that you’ve upset me?” 

“Still bad.” 

“Good to know. I guess since you can’t take it, that means we’re done.” He shrugged, pulling out of you, making you whine. 

“Done?” 

“Well you can’t handle what I wanted to do so yes, we're done.” He picked up the flogger and reached for the mask, making you panic. 

“Wait-” You said suddenly and he froze as he waited for you to continue. “I… disappointed you?” You said hesitantly, almost confused. 

“Yes.” 

“I- I didn’t…” He stayed silent, waiting for the rest. “I didn’t mean to.” You said quietly. 

“Well you did.” The harshness of his tone made you flinch. 

“I’m sorry…” 

“I don’t forgive you.” He said simply. “I went through all of that trouble to give you what you want but you can’t even do one thing that I want?” He scoffed, making your frown deepen.

“No I- I’m sorry. You can keep going.” You whimpered, trying to ignore the way your burning clit was protesting your words. 

“I can keep going or you want me to keep going?”

“…I want you to.” He stared at you as he thought and you tried to wait patiently and not fidget. 

“Fine. I’ll give you what you want, but you owe me, okay?” You nodded, trying not to seem too eager. He slipped back inside and you let out a relieved sigh as you felt full again. 

“I’m going to hit harder this time, but I’m only going to do ten. I want you to count them, do you understand?”

“Yes.” 

He lined up the paddle and you watched anxiously, body tense. He wasn’t lying, the first hit was significantly harder than the previous ones. 

“One.” You whimpered, trying not to squirm. He lined up the paddle for the second hit, the sharp pain making you let out a choked sob. “Two.” 

“Look at me.” He said sternly and your watery eyes fluttered up to his face. He hit you again and you squeezed your eyes shut as you cried out, but quickly opened them when you remembered his words. 

“Three.”

“You poor thing. Does it hurt a lot?” He cooed, rubbing the leather over your aching clit. 

“Yes.” You pouted, hoping he’d go easier on you. Instead, he brought the paddle down the hardest he had so far.  You let out a quiet sob and started writhing. “Four.” You croaked. On the next strike, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. “Five.” You whispered, looking up at him through wet lashes with furrowed brows, your bottom lip trembling. 

“Do you like it?” He asked casually. You shook your head with a whimper, feeling more tears fall. “No?”

“No.” You said through a sob, making him smile. 

“Good.” He hit you again, barely letting you get the word out before hitting you again. 

“S-six. Seven.” You whined. 

“I think you’re lying though- I think you do like it. Why else would you be clenching down on my cock so hard?” He brought the paddle down again, waiting for you to count this time. 

“Eight.” Before you could finish he was hitting you again. “Nine.” You cried, clit burning so bad it almost felt like you were on fire. The last one was the hardest of them all, making you let out a broken sob as even more tears streamed down your cheeks. “Ten.” You whimpered, staring at his face that was blurry from the few tears that remained unshed. He set the paddle on your stomach with the whip, then used his thumbs to pull your folds apart, examining you. 

“Such a pretty shade of red.” He mumbled with a small smile. When he brushed an experimental finger over your clit, your hips twitched as you whimpered. “That hurts?” He asked, looking back up at your face. You nodded with a pout, hoping that would be enough to make him not want to draw out your pain. Surprisingly, it was. 

He moved his gaze down as he placed both hands on your thighs for a better grip, then slowly pulled out, letting you feel every inch of him before pushing back in. He started up a cruel, teasing pace, slowly rolling his hips into yours, making you let out a needy whine. 

“Please, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered and his eyes snapped up to yours. He sped up, now seemingly chasing his own orgasm, using your body for his pleasure. When he touched your clit again, his lips curled up into a small smirk as you gasped out, your hips trying to move away from his fingers. 

“Keep squeezing me like that.” He groaned, rubbing your clit again, this time maintaining the cruel touch. You let out pained whimpers along with needy whines, the pleasure and pain confusing your fucked out, drugged mind. 

His hips stuttered and he removed his fingers from your clit to grab your thigh again and pull you flush to him as he let out a low groan. His hips bucked into you with each pulse of come that hit your walls, and you could just barely feel your orgasm starting to grow, but once he stilled inside you, it quickly disappeared. 

He pulled out, then examined your hole with a small smirk, pulling your folds apart for a better view. When his come trickled out, his expression faltered. 

“Is something wrong?” You asked, voice small, worried you were the cause of the sudden shift. He didn’t answer you as he freed your limbs and collected the mask and toys to bring to the counter. “Did I do something?” You tried not to cry at the thought. 

“No.”

“Oh… Then what’s wrong?” 

“Why do you care?” He said coldly as he turned to face you. “You’re supposed to hate me, remember? That’s what you wanted.”

“I- I just…” 

“Stop talking. For once just stop fucking talking.” He spat, making your brows furrow as you frowned. 

“Sorry…” You whispered as you averted your gaze to the floor. 

“What did I just say?” He snapped, making you flinch as your eyes started watering. You didn’t understand where this was coming from. Especially because he’s never talked to you like this before— emotional. He slammed the briefcase shut then walked over to the cabinet to put the toys away. 

“Get dressed.” You slid off the table, then pulled on your discarded clothing, grimacing at the mess between your legs, too scared to ask if it was okay for you to clean it. He didn’t say another word as he left the room with you following him. He walked quickly, you barely managed to keep up with him until he stopped in front of your cell and opened it. 

“I don’t understand what,”

“Get in.” He said coldly, gaze hard. 

“What did I do wrong?” He grabbed your bicep and shoved you in, making you whimper and grab you now aching arm. He’s never been this rough with you in just normal circumstances. “Why are you mad at me? I don’t understand.” You whimpered, bottom lip trembling, now hurt from his words and his actions. Before you could protest, he was slamming the door shut and walking away. 

You stared at the door as your eyes started to burn and your chest started to ache. Trying to think back to what you could’ve done, nothing came to mind. You didn’t complain or fight him at all. But he only seemed upset after he pulled out, while you were just laying there, not moving or speaking. 

What else could it have been then? You thought back to your conversation after the switch. ‘Why do you care?’ He asked. 

Why do you care?? The answer couldn’t come to you. You just knew that seeing him like that was upsetting and you wanted to help him stop feeling like that. But there wasn’t a reason behind that either. 

Part 5