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madelynraemunson · 4 months ago

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pass the salt pt. 2 • e.m smut

part one here.

OLDER!DAD’S BEST FRIEND!EDDIE x FEM!READER

summary: dad’s having a bbq for labor day weekend and you heard through the grapevine that a certain friend of his is going to be there.

author’s note: let’s revisit the popsicle ordeal, shall we? 🍦

CW: porn with plot, oral (m-receiving), degrading kink, but also a praise kink bc i’m both and don’t know how that can possibly be, face fucking, cum eating, eddie eats his own cum if you squint heheheheheh, deep throating, cheating; for context, eddie is in his late 30s, reader early 20s and in college. dividers: @benkeibear @bucciniexe

WC: 2.3k words

Eddie never called.

He couldn’t possibly be that old and forgetful.

Before parting ways, the 39 year old promised he’d let you know when he got home safely. So you stayed up all night waiting for a text, a call. And while it was evident he did make it back (he was playing games with your dad all night a couple days later), you couldn’t help but feel forgotten about.

Also, it’s West Memphis. What’s so interesting about the boonies that made Eddie forget about you so easily?

But now classes are back in session and Eddie, too, was becoming easy to forget. Easy to forget, that is, until conversations about your father’s annual Labor Day Weekend barbecue comes up.

"Eddie will be there, you remember him right?"

DO you?

Your thighs clench in place as you attempt to tame your excitement. Suddenly, your upper divisions are being ignored and you’re searching your closet for the shortest of short shorts to wear.

“Try forgetting about me NOW, Eddie,” you think to yourself.

LABOR DAY WEEKEND

You just about checked your appearance a billion times in the mirror before making your way downstairs.

This afternoon you’re dressed in skin-tight denim shorts and a light top with puffy sleeves.

Your eye makeup? Specifically designed for destruction. And your lips? Cheeks? Both the same innocent, peachy pink. It’s sure to drive Eddie insane.

You could hardly contain your excitement. The thought of your fantasies being fulfilled within the next couple of days has you in tumultuous heat.

Being bent over the kitchen counter. Folded up atop the wash. Getting railed to bits in the guest room in the middle of the night while the TV drowns out your pretty little noises. But most of all, you couldn’t wait to be with Eddie. There was so much to talk to him about since he left.

After one last pep talk, you down your water like it’s a shot before going over to greet everyone.

———

When you get to the backyard, you offer the sea of guests polite smiles and pleasantries. Your dad is at the grill, doing what he does best with a big smile on his face. When you scoot past him, you see Lucas Sinclair and his wife, Maxine. You nod to Dustin Henderson. And Steve Harrington, the business guy.

Then you see him.

But it is to your absolute shock — and horror — that he happens to be manspread atop a lawn chair, laughing into the crook of a random woman's neck as she's perched on his lap.

Well this is awkward.

You watch as they laugh like teenagers in love, the woman leaning into Eddie the closer he reels her in. You watch him call her his "baby", as she runs her delicate fingers through his wavy brown hair. His cheeks turn a flattered rose when she kisses his nose with hers. But when his gaze drifts from her to you, it’s shifts to a different kind of red. An "oh shit" kind of red. An "I'm caught" kind of red. You swallow hard.

It's no wonder anymore why Eddie didn’t call. He found someone new.

"Sunshine!" your dad calls you over. "You know my buddies, Gareth and Grant. Mike, Will, and Jonathan?”

“Yes!” you attempt to remain collected, giving all the guys a gracious smile hello. “Hi, nice to see you again.”

When you make your way over to Eddie, you notice that he begins to sulk into his seat, avoiding any form of eye contact with you.

“And of course you know Eddie.”

Your dad’s best friend gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“How ya doing, sweetheart?”

“Long time no see…” is all you can say.

“And this is his girlfriend of three years, Sophie."

Your stomach is in knots now. THREE YEARS?!

Suddenly, your gaze goes from surprised to angry. Horrified. Nauseated.

Sophie wasn’t the other woman. It was you.

Meanwhile Eddie doesn’t seem to have a guilty bone in his body. When your eyes finally meet, you see that his are dark, piercing into you with such an intensity that you nearly stumble backwards.

"Aww Jeff," Sophie pouts. "Your daughter is so cute!"

"Isn't she?" Eddie coos.

It’s hard for you to comprehend anything, so you go mute shortly after the interaction. And for a while, you linger, as to not appear suspicious or upset. In the meantime, Eddie watches you while you talk to the other guests and help yourself to a couple pieces of fruit, curious as to why and how you haven’t caused a scene yet.

But you’re about to if you stay any longer.

Storming into the house now, you tilt your chin upwards to stop the inevitable down-flow of waterworks. And it’s when you think you’re all alone that a pair of gruff hands grab you by the wrists, shifting your back promptly against the wall.

Your breath hitches in response, as anyone's would if their body was being refrained by a tall, husky, and intoxicated silhouette.

"The nerve you have wearing those shorts around me," he breathes onto you.

You shove him back aggressively.

"Fuck off, Eddie," you spit. "You have a girlfriend?! You had one this whole time?!"

"Hey now—”

"After everything, you couldn’t even bother to tell me you’re already spoken for? Really?!" your voice is at an aggressive whisper now.

"I never said I was perfect."

"Clearly you aren't."

Eddie backs away for a second to let your anger simmer, his resigned hands creating a fair amount of distance between you two. But seeing you all angry and frazzled made his cock twitch, the only thing stopping him from fucking some forgiveness out of you being the thought of people standing right outside.

"I waited for you to call, Eddie. And you forgot all about me."

"Wanna make me remember then?"

You feel his erection through his strained denim jeans as Eddie tauntingly rubs himself against you.

"Make me remember how good I fucked you that one night?" he questions you rhetorically. "How pretty those moans sounded getting drowned out by my pillow? How you begged me to rail you dumb while you came hard all over my cock?"

Your lip quivers as his hot breath tickles your neck. You bite down in attempts to make it less obvious.

"How I corrupted Daddy's Little Girl?” he cockily adds.

"Ha!" you manage to scoff at him. "You really think you turned me, huh? You cannot be more wrong, Eddie. You haven't influenced me a bit.”

"Then what's all this about?"

He motions towards your outfit.

The taunting lace frills. The scant length with no built-in spandex underneath. Your outfit sculpted your body so nice, in every possible way. And as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you did do all of it for Eddie. And his influence is very prominent. Your face flushes red as Eddie searches for your gaze.

"Not foolin' anybody, darling," your dad’s friend issues you a sinister smirk. "Like I said before, I used to be your age."

“I can’t even look at you right now.” you mutter.

“You don’t have to.”

He grabs your hand and you let him, tracing the outline of his stiff cock as he grunts against you.

“In fact,” Eddie says as he shakes his head. “…you don’t have to speak at all. Would be hard for you to anyways with me in your mouth.”

Your breathing quickens the closer Eddie gets, and you find it impossible to pull away when he starts kissing down your neck — his breaths hot — the way his soft lips suction against your temple... even hotter — and the spearmint that danced with the nic at the back of his throat, expelling a shaky hum out of you that you tirelessly fought to keep inside.

"Eddie," you whimper. "I'm yours."

Eddie issues you a rough smack across your ass.

"I know that. On your knees."

There was no going back now. Before you know it, your knees meet the cold wooden floor, face practically already buried at the base of Eddie’s crotch before he could even strip himself down.

You sit patiently while Eddie grabs a chair, sitting down and teasingly palming himself while he lines himself up with you. You hungrily watch as he slides his jeans down, stroking his incredible length and girth a few times, before slapping the head of his leaking cock against the matching gloss of your lips.

"Missed it?"

You crumble.

"So much," you pout.

Eddie motions you forward and you place your lips on his throbbing head, sucking him in place before spiraling your tongue seductively down his shaft.

“Fuuuck,” he whispers. “There she is. There’s my girl.”

His praise causes you to melt into him, clinging to his waist and taking him deep as he holds you in place, the back of your head fitting his calloused palm like a glove.

“Mmhmm??” Eddie grunts as he studies every fervid bob of your head. “Mmhmm?? — Ohhh, fuck. Good girl.” He moves your hair out of the way. “That’s a good girl.”

Eddie cranes his neck towards the door leading outside, keeping watch of anybody who might be coming in.

But even when on the lookout, Eddie continues to mindfully thrust, slowly when people near but compensating with direct blows the moment they walk away.

Fucking hell.

He's a challenge in every possible way. Your tear-strung eyes trail up at Eddie as he watches you suck, slouching in his seat…rolling his hips… thrusting into your gaping mouth slightly past the point of resistance. And you were being so brave, that is until he unexpectedly plunges himself into you, causing you to gag and push hard against his warm thighs to catch your breath.

"Need some air, baby?"

"I—” you cough. “I — hate you.”

You spit back down onto his throbbing cock, showcasing to Eddie his salty string of pre-cum as he strokes your temple in consolation.

"I’m sure you do..." Eddie chuckles, offering you a menacing, adulterous pout in return. “I’m sure you fucking do.”

He knees the base of your core lightly and you immediately, obediently fold your hands behind your back. With his available hand, Eddie grazes your ass, venturing his fingers around your wet slit causing you to moan as your throat is jabbed repeatedly.

Eddie goes just far enough to hear more of your angelic, reactive gags. Pleasure-saturated tears roll uncontrollably down your cheeks. Amused, Eddie shakes his head as you desperately gargle him dry, his arousal spewing recklessly against your palate.

"She hates Eddie, she hates Eddie,” it’s almost like he’s singing it. Eddie chants sarcastically as he watches your makeup run out of pure lust. "Bet that filthy mouth LOVES him though, doesn't it, sweetheart?"

You nod again. Without the slightest bit of mercy, Eddie is practically ramming into you now. But you’re beyond the point of caring. You want him to obliterate you. More than he already has.

You knew better. But your dad’s best friend knew better than you.

“That filthy mouth loves how Eddie tastes?” he quips again as you nod up at him bitterly. “Hm?”

And as he finishes inside your mouth, salty seed soothing the back of your bruised throat, Eddie grabs you by the jaw to lock you in place. The twisted fucker wants you to savor every drop of his load, his ego oozing into you while his thick groans pollute the kitchen air. And when he finds the courage to finally look you in the eyes, your gaze pierces into him as you swallow him down.

And just as menacingly, Eddie grins down at you. You bat your lashes innocently as he gives your hollowed cheek a few delicate smacks with his large palm, followed by adorn praises for swallowing every drop he issued you.

“My pretty baby,” Eddie fawns, as his stiff cock finally grows flaccid. He grabs your chin to give it a sloppy kiss, and your eyes follow intently as he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He licks the evidence off with his teasing tongue. “You gonna be my pretty lil baby on the low?”

“As long as you don’t forget to call this time,” you issue a playful frown.

“Don’t worry darlin’,” Eddie assures you. “After what you just did to me right now, I’m never leaving you alone.”

When you both finish cleaning up, Eddie follows your lead as you two head outside. He goes back towards his friends at one corner of the backyard while you walk over to the nearest cooler for a popsicle. And as the party draws on, you two mingle around, talk, and party with all the others... as if nothing happened.

And even though you're able to play it off like it's no big deal, Eddie's words were all you could think about for the rest of the day.

“You gonna be my pretty lil baby on the low?”

Crying over spilled milk is almost never worth it. Sometimes it’s best swallowed with your pride.

tagging who seemed interested 🎀 : @tracymbcm @eiightysixbaby @katethetank @mikalovesmusic @munsonscharm @wonderlandwalker @mayaluvzyou @skrzydlak @buckybarnsishot @eddiesxangel @xxbimbobunnyxx @justmeinadaze @nailbatanddungeon @mediocredreams @littlexdeaths

thank you so much for tuning in :)

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson headcannon #eddie munson headcannons #older!eddie munson smut #older!eddie smut #older!eddie munson x reader #older!eddie x reader #dad’s best friend!eddie #dad’s best friend!eddie x reader

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pinkiceee-prose · 1 year ago

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Summertime Service

Summary: Reader throws the BAU team a summer barbeque feast. Spencer is so moved by her hard work that he feels there's only one way to truly show her his gratitude.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut (18+, minors DNI)

Content Warnings: coworker relationship, descriptions of food, mutual pining, heavy kissing, praise, worship, begging, leg and feet massages, use of a gendered nickname ("pretty girl"), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, reader wears a sundress. please let me know if I missed any!

Author's Notes: This is the first fic I've written and published in a very long time, so please let me know if you enjoyed it and would like more! Huge thank you to the lovely @fortheloveofwonderland for reading over this for me 💗 Also, this was written as a part of @imagining-in-the-margins's Summer Sunshine Challenge!☀️

Word Count: 6.1k

As you stepped out onto Rossi’s patio, the summer sun beat down on the skin of your exposed shoulders. The different, yet still prevalent heat radiating from the large serving dish of meat you carried also played a role in the ever-present sweat gathering on your upper body, but you trekked through the grass with a smile, attempting to appear unaffected.

Tara and Luke rushed to help relieve you of the burden in your arms, but you insisted they refrain.

“Ah, nope! This barbeque is all about you guys, okay—no helping!” You said to their many protests. Lightheartedly dejected they sat back down, offering their thanks as they helped themselves to the food.

You set down the tray amongst a swarm of arms crossing, reaching for utensils in bowls of potato salad and plates of freshly grilled vegetables. You took a moment to admire the feast occurring before you, then turned on your heel to fetch more.

You and Penelope had made this plan weeks ago, just as summer was beginning to heat up and just around the time you’d joined the BAU team as Emily’s personal assistant. After a series of difficult and depressing cases, Penelope suggested that a family get-together was in order, and she enlisted your help to plan it. She, with Rossi’s help, secured the tables and canopies for the event, while you handled the menu and the serving.

You weren’t much of a gourmet chef, but you had a few tried-and-true summer recipes in your back pocket for times like these. From years of family barbeques of your own, you’d honed techniques for preparing brisket and grilling chicken, and you’d also learned a thing or two about making macaroni and cheese and fruit salad.

Under the shade of your sundress, nerves wracked your steps. Despite the bubbly facade and easy-going assurances to the team that you didn’t need any assistance, tremors radiated through your body with each dish that was carried to the outdoor tables. The shaking wasn’t due to their weight or your lack of strength; it could all be attributed to anxiety and stress and upcoming exhaustion.

This was the first time you were attending a BAU “family” event — let alone orchestrating one — so you had put a lot of pressure on yourself to impress the team.

They saved lives and solved crimes across the country while you did mostly clerical work — filed papers and answered phone calls. The division of labor was definitely lopsided, and you felt a certain level of gratitude was in order for the team. For those who did impactful work.

Just as you’d returned to Rossi’s kitchen to retrieve another dish for the table, Spencer appeared behind you. His subtle cologne filled the air; despite summer raging on outside, he smelled of autumn with his cinnamon and coffee scent. The heat of his arm rose goosebumps up your body, but he shifted to stand next to you before anyone could notice the proximity.

“Let me help, please,” He whispered, prolonging the physical contact that was typically out of character for him. As if all the heat of summer wasn’t enough, the pool of warmth he summoned inside you lit aflame with his pleas. When you finally met his eye, that fire reached your cheeks before you could do much to hide it.

Something that you’d once brushed off as a workplace crush blossomed between you and Spencer. Although you weren’t together, there was no denying the tension felt between you two when your hands brushed at the coffee counter in the office, or when you lingered over his shoulder for just a second more than necessary when passing out case files.

Lately, it had been a lot more difficult to will the thoughts away with how the heat of the season forced Spencer to shed his typical layers of clothing. Even now, he stood beside you in a simple polo shirt that clung to his chest. You could almost feel the buttons between your fingers, sliding through the fabric as your eyes grazed over him — but the oven alarm began to blare, dragging you away from the fantasy.

“Spencer,” You took a few steps away from him, pulling a few dishes from the oven and placing them on the counter. You failed to hide the smirk his presence pulled out of you. “You know this is supposed to be about appreciating the team’s hard work. You should be relaxing!”

He rolled his eyes at your insistence, then glanced over his shoulder to ensure no one had yet to notice his absence. Luckily, they were still all consumed by the fruits of your labor — literally and metaphorically.

“Your hard work should be recognized too. You’re going to overexert yourself,” His pleas felt like music and dissonance in your ears. On one hand, the attention he paid you made your knees weak, and it was obvious by the heavy breath in your chest that you enjoyed his company. But on the other hand, you felt resolute in the objective to purely serve the team tonight. The desire to praise them for their work — the desire to feel accepted by them — triumphed over the crush you’d developed on Spencer, at least for now.

“I’ll be fine. Now go back and enjoy before someone else thinks I’m accepting helpers,” You responded, flashing a tender smile as Spencer stayed in hesitation. A flash of something crossed over his eyes — irritation, desire, annoyance, or pity, you couldn’t quite tell. All you could recognize was the way his feet dragged in defeat, leaving you to your serving duties quite slowly.

Although not a profiler, you could’ve sworn he seemed spurred on, like he had to hold himself back from acting on an urge to advance on you. You brushed the thoughts away as best you could for now, returning your focus to the task at hand.

♡ ♡ ♡

The next few hours were a flash of food and drinks and summer heat. Jack, Henry, Michael, Hank, and all of Matt’s kids ran around the tables with their popsicles, definitely giving the ants in Rossi’s yard a feast of their own. Everything from cucumber salad to watermelon slices, to vegetable kebabs made their rounds down each table, visiting each BAU member.

The scent of lavender, peppermint, and citrus candles mingled in the air in an attempt to keep bugs at bay. But a symphony of crickets and cicadas still played as a soundtrack to the feast, and you watched as Emily and JJ were vigilant against flies that threatened to join the party, swatting around the food every few minutes.

You spent most of the event rushing around, finding places for each dish to reside while the rest of the team balanced between repose and indulgence. Tara, Emily, JJ, and Penelope raved about the veggies, while Morgan and Rossi praised the beefier selections you’d prepared. The team showered you with compliments, but you continued to deny their requests to help.

Food acted as an avenue for both nourishment and gratitude that you felt was desperately underserved to your new family, and accepting their help seemed to cheapen that sentiment.

Maybe it was all the incredible ways in which they brought peace to people or all the times that they helped you feel at peace with their work; regardless, you felt they were owed some home cooking and summer relaxation, and you wanted to be the one to give it to them.

“If I had known you could cook like this, I would’ve suggested this barbeque months ago,” Rossi quipped over his clean plate. It must’ve been nice for him to not be the head chef for the team for a change.

“Yeah, I haven’t eaten this good in years,” Emily chimed in, with agreements made by Matt and Morgan. Their wives nodded with them in earnest agreement.

As the sun began to set, a wash of pinks and purples created the perfect backdrop to the barbeque. Penelope had the idea to set up tiki torches, which you lit with Hotch’s help. Their gentle glow kept the brightness at a dim level while still ensuring sight to guide you as you continued your service.

Although the energy level had died down quite a bit thanks to the heat of the day and the abundance of food everyone had, the team was still rapt in lively discussions as you served dessert.

Blueberry pie with a lattice-style crust, chocolate cake with matching frosting, and homemade vanilla bean ice cream graced the tables. You weren't usually one to brag, but even you had to admit the delicious sweets were a perfect final touch to the event.

Even at dusk, the ice cream sweat and started melting almost as soon as it found its place on their plates. The sickly-sweet aroma from the pie carried on long after its trip in the oven, mingling with the already present floral aromas that seemed elevated due to the heat. You were surprised the barbeque hadn’t summoned neighbors, or at least more bugs.

Residual summer heat could be so damning yet comforting all at the same time.

With dessert served, you finally allowed yourself to sit and join the team. The aches in your feet and back that had gone unnoticed during the hours of cooking and service finally surfaced as your weight shifted, encouraging a painful rest to overtake your limbs. Without realizing it, you’d slumped over in your chair for quite a while, staring out into space as the party continued around you.

That was until Spencer detected your quietness and waved a hand in front of your eyes, commanding attention.

“Are you okay, y/n?” His voice was barely audible over the discussions happening around you. But, you still nodded, straightened your back, and reached for a slice of pie.

“Yep, just got distracted,” You gave him a small smile, but you could see that he didn’t quite believe your performance. The fatigue in your body was incredibly apparent, and the look behind your eyes was one of exhaustion. However, Spencer hesitated to react to his observations.

You weren’t sure what you expected him to say or do about it, but you watched as he pursed his lips together in contemplation — planning something.

Whatever he was scheming, it was set in motion as Matt and his family departed. Following him were JJ and her loved ones, plus Emily and Tara. They all offered repeated praises to you, Penelope, and Rossi as they crossed the threshold into the blackness of summer night.

Before you could completely gather your things, suddenly Spencer pulled you aside and insisted on coming over to his apartment tonight. His usual dismissive, demur demeanor had changed, and he loomed over you with a sort of persuasive aura that radiated from his request. It was as if he was protecting you from something, or rather, preparing you for something. Either way, anticipation dripped from his words as you stared back, silent, in response.

“I-If that makes you uncomfortable, by all means, ignore me,” he spoke in hushed tones. “But I really think you’ll enjoy it if you come.”

If you hadn’t been so exhausted, the absolute shock from his blatant flirtation would have caused your breath to catch in your throat before you could ever eloquently reply. However, with the fatigue wracking you, all you could do was scan his face for any sign of sarcasm.

He seemed to be genuine, and your body instinctually gravitated toward him with the offer. It went without saying that this invitation felt incredibly forward, but the sleep that threatened to overtake you also kept you from worrying too much about the obvious blush that spread across your face at the thought of what leaving with Spencer would look like to the rest of the team.

Objectively, though, Spencer’s apartment was closer than yours, and you weren't sure if you could handle the lull of a drive this late at night. You justified to yourself that accepting his offer was out of a precautionary notion — but in all honesty, the seductive implications of Spencer’s plan were what really captivated you, and pulled an ‘okay’ from your lips.

You’d spent all night denying requests, and you didn’t want to forgo this one.

In the passenger seat of Spencer’s rarely-driven car, your body pulsed with fatigue at every stop. You wondered if he could sense it radiating through you or if he was just burnt out on masking his flirtation towards you all day, as you caught him glancing at your body at every red light. Each push and pull brought on by inertia briefly relieved the pain, then rushed it back in, but his gaze did give you another sense of relief.

Thankfully, the drive was short, and the walk up to Spencer’s door was aided by his hand on your lower back. With drowsiness prevalent in every step, you took a moment to check your surroundings and ask yourself if this was truly happening. The flirtation, the lingering physicality between you two, and the blushes that damned every innocent conversation you’d had together seemed to rise to the top of your brain at that moment as you recognized the reality you’d found yourself in.

Aided by his unabashed touch on your back, your awareness of reality fed your deep desire that he truly led you here for scandalous reasons, but the rational side of your brain that was just barely awake triggered anxiety to flare. Fear of unknowns, of rejection, or maybe both floated up your spine and burned in the impression of his fingers upon you.

But, then his door swung open. Almost instantly after you walked inside and he shut the door, Spencer knelt on his knees before you. The swift change in position made you stumble backward, and confusion spread across your face.

“What are you doing?” The question bubbled out of you fast, but you hadn’t meant to sound disinterested. It was alarming, for sure, to abruptly feel the heat of his body so close to your aching legs, but that didn’t mean the view wasn’t incredibly alluring.

“I’m taking care of you,” Spencer responded, his voice was quiet but poignant as if this was standard procedure.

You stood frozen as he slid the strap of your sandal down the back of your heel, and his fingers brushed against the veins of your feet.

“You took care of us all day. Now it’s your turn to relax.”

Taken aback by his sudden servitude, no verbal response came from your mouth. Instead, you melted under his fingertips as he slowly removed the other shoe, then traveled up your calves to pull down your sheer stockings. The gesture was so intimate, so quiet, so tender. Paired with the exhaustion and excitement and bewilderment, the elegance of his touch brought tears to your eyes.

Spencer stood back up slowly, his lips ghosting over your arm on his ascent. Your eyes met in the dim light of his apartment for the first time, both sets deepened with a near primal sense of surprised attraction. Your body felt as if on fire, vibrating, or possibly both with how electric your nerves were with your closeness and the threat of his impending adoration.

Just as the summer sun had earlier shone on your exposed shoulders, the richness of Spencer’s deep brown eyes was now affixed to them. His index finger wrapped around the thin strap of your sundress, pulling it over the curve of your shoulder at an agonizingly slow pace. It was so soft yet so tense — neither one of you had made a sound in what felt like minutes — a whimper threatened to fall from your lips just as Spencer’s eyes flickered back to meet yours.

“You overexerted yourself,” Spencer echoed what he’d warned you against earlier in the evening, breaking the silence. You couldn’t help but wearily smile at the re-use of his own words.

“I think I’ll accept a helper now,” You replied hushed, voice wavering so much you thought it might shatter if any more than a heavy breath was expelled from your throat. The twitch of a smile spread across Spencer’s face just as you had the thought — as if he’d read your mind.

But the silence resumed, and Spencer’s hand sent the top of your sundress cascading down your forearm. The fabric halted at your wrist, and as Spencer coaxed the other strap down the opposite side, he slowly exposed your chest to the cold air of his apartment.

After a day in the sun, his air conditioning felt arctic, and despite the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach thanks to his mannerisms, the tips of Spencer’s fingers iced over the skin of your décolletage.

Whether he noticed your shivering, or if this was all a part of his grander plan, you did not know. But just as the weight of the sundress carried itself passed your hips to pool at your ankles, Spencer clasped your hands together and led you toward his bedroom.

Again, anxiety pulled you from your lustful daze. Was this really happening? Had you been ignorant all along to Spencer’s advances, or was this just as spontaneous for him? It’s not like you didn’t want this — more so, you were just in a state of disbelief at the way the day’s events had transpired.

Disregarding the chorus of cicadas permeating his bedroom window, Spencer guided you to sit on the edge of his bed in otherwise complete silence. He knelt in front of you, mimicking your positions from the foyer. The arousal that sprung from you at his sudden movement made your cheeks blush a shade of red deeper than any summertime sunburn could create.

At the same time, you couldn’t help but become aware of the obvious disparity in modesty between the two of you now, but he caught your wrists before you could shift to cover your body.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He spoke up with a sobering tone. The wistfulness and tension were briefly broken, and you smiled at the notion that he still checked for consent despite all that you’d done so far.

“Not just okay. I want it, Spence. I want you,” Your voice, a little bolder now, seemed to boom in his most private room. Without another word, he guided your hands to the buttons on his shirt, before releasing your wrists in favor of splaying his hands across your thighs.

You inhaled sharply, shuddering at the contact. But it did make your hands move faster, pulling his buttons apart in a quite similar fashion to the eager way you’d daydreamed about doing so earlier.

Just as you’d completed the task and pulled the fabric of his shirt over his head, you felt the pads of his fingers reconnect with your legs and dig into the supple flesh of your thighs. A deep sigh left your lips almost instantly as he worked the worn muscles, firmly pressing into them. You felt the stress shift and dissipate, and your body reacted automatically to his ministrations.

It wasn’t until his massage traveled to your calves that more salacious noises fell from your lips. You knew that this kind of attention wasn’t strictly sexual, but the relief Spencer brought to you, to the tenderness in your legs and feet, demanded a vocal response.

At first, mewls and faint sighs responded to his help, but they deepened in tandem with his strength. The kneading of his fingers across the width of your legs, the pressure he placed upon your Achilles' tendons, and the force he pushed into the worn arches of your feet all played roles in the escalation of your noises into pure, wanton moans.

“You are so beautiful,” Spencer spoke into the landscape of sounds you were creating for him. “Not just like this, but all the time. The way you laugh, the work you do, in all the things you did for us tonight — you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.”

His impromptu speech stunned you for a moment, and you did your best to keep your interjections to heavy sighs to truly listen to him. But his praise wasn’t something you were used to, and although you’d been complimented all night at the barbeque, something about Spencer’s tone inspired a unique bashfulness.

“Stop,” You half-heartedly chuckled, unsure of how to respond to such an admission other than to dismiss it.

“I’m serious, y/n,” He continued, unfazed. “Ever since you walked through the doors at the office I felt…saved. I’m not religious but — I mean, you’ve literally got me on my knees here.”

Your face burned with the worship, and his joke inspired a smile, but you also did your best to relax your reactions and just take his confession.

“You’re smart, you’re sweet, you’re compassionate and caring, and I just feel like you deserve the world…I don’t know if you—if you’ve ever thought of me like this, but, I really do adore you. And I want to serve you like you did me tonight.”

With his previous, dominant stance seemingly shaken, you took the opportunity to run your hands up his arms and into his hair. He closed his eyes at the feeling, leaning into the touch and basking in it. Leaning in close, your lips met in a soft, slow kiss.

As you gently pushed against one another, your more primal drives slowly regenerated, and you pulled his hair tenderly to just barely create a separation. His eyes shot open, struggling to focus on anything else but your lips. With another gentle tug, you wound him back up to the previous tension you two had.

“Show me how much you adore me,” The command rumbled in your chest before you even truly processed it.

But that was enough for Spencer. With the ending of the last syllable, his eyes fell half-lidded, and he quickly pushed your lips back together.

The steady and slow pace you’d honed since arriving at his apartment was suddenly nowhere to be found. Desperation laced your every move as you traveled up his bed; Spencer towering over you, never disconnecting in your endeavor. You felt the weight of his body settle between your legs. Not only was his skin sweltering with heat, but you could feel how achingly hard he was through his slacks.

You kissed with the desperation of a couple saying goodbye. It was as if both of you were grasping at each other, fearful of any distance that may find its way into your embrace. As your eager hands traversed down his bare chest and stomach, Spencer rushed to match your near nakedness through a rather clumsy removal of his pants.

While the sweet and savory scents of summer seemed distant now, everpresent was the smell of Spencer. Coffee and cinnamon filled your nose once again as his hair cascaded over your face, sweeping behind his trail of kisses down your chest.

He paused on the journey, motioning for you to lean upwards where his lips found yours in another fit of passionate kissing. He reached around you, unclasping your bra and gently guiding the fabric down your arms. Another shiver wracked through you as your breasts were finally exposed, but it was quickly remedied by the warmth of Spencer’s palms.

He cupped them softly at first, dragging mewls from your mouth that he used to slide his tongue between your lips. It wasn’t until he felt the shake of your muscles that he realized how uncomfortable the position must’ve been, leading him to push you back onto the mattress, palms still full of your tits.

With your mouths freshly separated, Spencer let a string of saliva fall from his mouth, coating the valley on your chest in a way that caught every moonbeam in the room. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to the plush swell of your breast, setting your skin aflame. You moaned shamelessly at the delicious pressure, earning a satisfied smile from the man between your legs.

You hopelessly clawed at his shoulders in an attempt to feel the press of his whole body against you once more, but he continued his descent toward your center.

Painstakingly slow, he dragged your underwear down your legs, watching your face for any sign of disapproval. When he couldn’t find any, he discarded them before guiding your legs up off the bed and resting them over his shoulders. You watched, enraptured, as he lay prone in front of you and met your eyes one more time before pressing a sloppy kiss on your inner thigh.

Shivers rolled down your spine, and you shook in response to what would be the most innocent of touches from this point on. Spencer seemed encouraged by the heavy heave of your chest, and he taunted you with breathy sighs hitting your folds.

His breath was hot, but it still inspired your body to shake as if freezing. He studied you in an almost delirious state of bliss as he controlled you with just his breath, before slowly licking a devilish stripe up your slit, collecting your arousal on his tongue like the sweetest summer dessert.

A pained moan escaped your throat, wholly miserable with how much he seemed to be holding back. You did your best to avoid clamping down on his head too harshly, but you couldn’t help the instinct you felt to pull him closer.

Then, he finally dove in. His tongue worked expertly — dragging and pressing and pulling around your bundle of nerves, and even circling your entrance. The lewd sounds coming from his mouth sparked your own in response, and soon you had your own debaucherous melody echoing in his bedroom.

He flattened his tongue, pressed it against your clit, and wrapped his arms around your thighs, giving himself leverage to apply the pressure to your most sensitive spot that he could tell you were desperate for.

You felt his tongue flip and twirl around you, drinking in your essence as if he hadn’t already gorged himself on a feast of yours tonight. Dipping a little lower, his muscle plunged inside of you, inspiring an entirely different kind of pressure that tightened your core and commanded your body off the bed.

Moving his tongue back up to your clit, he lapped at it as he began edging a finger into you, causing you to grip his duvet in a misguided attempt to relieve the incredible tension building in your stomach.

“S-spencer,” You choked out, doing your best to keep your eyes open as the sight in front of you was one of angelic beauty — Spencer’s hair was completely disheveled, and although the room was only lit by moonlight, you could see the wild gaze his eyes held as he worked so hard to please you. You let out a feather-light moan.

But all you got in response was his dark eyes, filled with a fervor that you’d never seen from Spencer before. You laced your fingers in his hair just as he pushed his finger inside you, eliciting a new, loud groan from your chest.

Latching onto your nub, Spencer rolled his tongue over it with gentle suction in tandem with fast, shallow thrusts of his finger. He moaned against you, sending ripples of stimulation through your body, radiating from his mouth. He watched you the entire time, eyes trained on your face as it scrunched up in pleasure.

He feasted on you, and for the second time tonight, you relished in the fact that you had nourished Spencer so graciously.

With a tug of his hair, you finally felt the tension in your stomach snap. A string of moans bounced off the walls of his bedroom, but Spencer didn’t give in to distraction. He pulled off of you only slightly with a deep inhale but kept his finger moving to fuck you through your orgasm.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” He cooed, bringing his other hand up to splay against your stomach, feeling the muscles spasming beneath his palm in time with the waves of pleasure washing over you.

He slowed his finger as your pleasure faded; the tension leaving your abdomen and a look of bliss covering your face, signaling your comedown. He withdrew his finger slowly before resuming his towering position over you, peppering your cheeks and neck with kisses.

Once some sense had returned to your endorphin-flooded brain, your hands roamed over the span of Spencer’s back. You resumed the choreography that neither of you had practiced, even though it felt so natural to you. Your lips found his once more, and eagerness leaked from his saliva as it mixed with the taste of you on his tongue. A low, rumbling moan echoed into your mouth as he gripped your waist and the nape of your neck roughly.

Your hearts were back up to racing, and you tugged at the tight waistband of Spencer’s boxers.

“Please,” Spencer spoke into your mouth, barely disconnecting your lips as he begged. “Please, let me fuck you.”

If the praise wasn’t enough to win you over, the absolutely distraught look on his face would’ve done the job. One part of you couldn’t believe that Spencer could be so commanding and servile at the same time, while another part of you knew this must be the purest form of Spencer that anyone had ever seen before. Apart from his previous partners, you felt as if you were the only observer of him in such a state of subservience. He felt totally and uniquely seen by you, and that’s all he ever wanted.

You nodded and mewled at his request, harshly removing his last remaining barrier before wrapping your legs around his waist. Your movements brought his dick closer to your heat, and you couldn’t hold back the tremors that overwhelmed your senses at the sensation. Kissing you once more, Spencer aligned himself at your entrance, mimicking the shivering of your body on such a hot summer night.

He pushed into you at a listless pace, wanting to give you all the time and space to get comfortable around him despite the instincts that begged him to act faster. His finger had done little to prepare you for his true size, and although you gasped sharply at the intrusion, your body was quick to relax and pull him further inside you.

You shared moans and whimpers on the slow endeavor, kissing each other wherever available — cheek, arm, neck, chest — until he was fully flush with your body.

“Thank you,” Spencer breathed out, so softly that you almost missed it. “Thank you, thank you,” He kept worshiping as you felt his hips stutter and his cock twitch inside you. The size of him, his breath on your neck, and the everpresent smell of sex all tethered together in your mind at once, sparking an almost insatiable desire to demand that he move. You knew the worship was all a part of his plan to repay you for the barbeque, but you echoed the sentiment back nonetheless in favor of a less sweet command.

But Spencer was no stranger to that desire. With gratitude filling the room, he couldn’t hold back any longer, and he began rocking into you just enough to pull moans from your lips. He caged his arms around your head, wrapping one palm around the back of your neck to hold you in place, while the other found itself upon your cheek once again. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, watching as you moved against and around him with a delicious tightness.

He quickened his pace and relished in the way the pleasure presented upon your face. Your eyes screwed shut, mouth hung open in a string of moans. He mirrored your expressions, his bottom lip jutted out from his face, brushing yours with each harsh thrust forward. The pressure of him inside you was already swelling the knot in your stomach, and the stimulation melted all fatigue from the day away from your muscles.

Clawing at his back and arms, you opened your eyes to find him once more. The hand on your neck kept your gaze steady despite his rough movements that threatened your composure. There was a charm, a tenderness that you’d felt lingering between you two all night—hell, ever since your first day. From the moment you introduced yourself in the dawn of summer, to the moment he dropped to his knees and begged for you, an intensity magnetized the two of you together.

Before you could get too lost in the beautiful thoughts of your attraction, Spencer adjusted the angle of your hips, reaching even deeper into you. You couldn’t hold back the scream that left your body, and you felt yourself tighten around him as he drove into you at an incredible rate.

Spencer was already close — you could tell by the way whimpers fell over your neck with his every thrust, and he blinked rapidly as if it would stave off his impending release. He called your name as a warning, implicitly asking for your guidance.

Now, it was your turn to beg.

“Please,” You pled, eyes half-lidded yet glued to Spencers. “Please, come inside me.”

He could barely hold back after your words, his hips even faltering for a moment. But he kept his pace, and you wrapped your arms around him tightly as your release teetered on the edge of his relentless pace.

“Fuck,” You felt Spencer groan into your hair as his hips slammed flush with yours. Warmth flooded inside you, and the sensation triggered your release soon after. Both of you clung to each other, panting and brainless with bliss, as Spencer slowly continued to fuck you through your climaxes.

As the tension and heat dissipated over your body, you and Spencer reluctantly pulled away from each other. It was the first time since you’d arrived at his apartment that either one of you had given into distance. He was gentle with the motions, watching the way your body shook with each rogue wave of pleasure as he pulled out of you.

When he was fully removed, though, you found yourself alone, laid out across his bed. As the heaving in your chest subsided, Spencer returned with a towel, cleaning you up with the utmost tenderness.

“Here, I can help,” You peeled your upper body from his duvet despite all the resistance in your overexerted muscles, reaching for the cloth only for Spencer to catch your hand before you could make it.

“I’m still serving you, okay? Lay down,” He chuckled at your attempt, finishing up with the towel and discarding it back in his bathroom. When he returned, he continued to refuse your help, pulling the duvet out from under you to tuck you in.

He joined you on the other side of the bed, brushing hair from your face as he settled under the comforter too. You laid facing each other, eyes grazing over each other's bodies in a much more romantic sense than you two had a few moments prior.

“Why did you do all that?” You posed the question quietly, watching his face intently for a reaction. Although anxiety may not be the best word for it, you did feel a bit unsure about what this night meant for your relationship. Was this a summer fling, a coworker crush, or something more real? Something that would permeate the seasons or something that you’d recall late at night in future solitude?

“Well, for one, because I like you,” Spencer said, laughing slightly through the ends of a few words. “But also because of all you did for us tonight. You worked so hard and you deserved to be spoiled too.”

The praise again brought a flush to your cheeks, and you looked away as you tried not to discount the way Spencer was feeling. Even if you were unsure of your deserving of praise, you had to admit it felt nice to be adored by Spencer, and it felt good to know that this meant more to him than something casual.

Despite the summer heat, you found yourself fully engulfed in his embrace. The cicadas’ chorus began to lull sleep into your heavy eyes, even though you weren’t quite ready to let go and close your eyes, which would mean missing out on Spencer’s reverent gaze.

“I like you too,” You finally spoke up, finding his hand in the darkness of his bedroom, and lacing your fingers together. “Thank you for spoiling me.”

“Hey—no more ‘thank yous.’ You deserved it,” Spencer replied, placing a kiss on your knuckles before shuffling further into the bed. You turned over, relaxing into Spencer’s warm body as his arm wound around your stomach, still holding your hand.

Summer heat can be more comforting than once thought, after all.

♡ ♡ ♡

thank you for reading! 💗

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #fem!reader #bau team

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tldix · 5 days ago

Text

Do i wanna know?

summary: fleeing to college after catching your highschool sweetheart cheating, you find yourself right back in your home town 4 years later. your degree almost complete & your sanity slowly slipping, you find solace in the one place you know you shouldn’t. your dads best friend. Dean Winchester.

word count: idk something embarrassingly long probably🫣

warnings : mature 18+, dbf, AU, yearning AF, spn content, grumpy/sunshine ish?? idk (im trying to include most of the main characters from spn, again AU)

a/n: this is my 2nd ever fic so pls be nice 😔 (& lmk your thoughts, any ideas you may want added) i have every intention of making this a series, if you wanna be added to my tag list just comment 🫶🏼 with alllll this being said i hope you enjoy 🥲

The airport was alive with chaos—families reuniting, announcements echoing overhead, and the constant shuffle of luggage wheels against tiled floors. you adjusted the strap of your duffel bag & guitar case as you took a steadying breath as you followed the crowd toward baggage claim.

It had been months since you last came home, and even longer since you had really felt at home. College had consumed you, with its never-ending stream of exams, late-night study sessions, and endless cups of cheap coffee. Now, with your degree in psychology just a semester away, the weight of expectations pressed heavier on your shoulders.

you tugged her phone from your pocket and skimmed the last text from your dad.

| see you soon kid. we can stop at Bobby’s diner on the way home. i know he’d be over the moon to see you, bet you’re sick of all that tofu & books. don’t forget your still my daughter- not some Freud-loving brainiac”

you stifle a giggle as you head towards the parking lot, eyes skimming for the old green dodge your dad refuses to part with. you let your thoughts drift back to a time before you left for college. when you were waitressing at Bobby’s diner, when you were still with that jackass Colter. when the world felt as if it was falling apart. you quickly shake the thoughts from your head, moving your feet along the pavement out the double doors. your eyes fall on your dads truck, he jumps out with a 9 mile smile as he runs towards you.

“dad! oh my gosh i’ve missed you”

your dad picks you up, wrapping you in one of his signature bear hugs. you melted into his embrace, breathing in the scent of motor oil and aftershave.

“sticks, Look who’s back from the land of overpriced coffee and vegan muffins!”

“Dad, not everyone in college eats vegan muffins.” you laughed.

as your dad grabs your bags, he bombards you with questions. “how was school?” “didn’t meet another jackass like that one boy did you?” “i’m so glad you’re home now sticks, i was real tired of eating take out”

finally. this is what you were searching for. the peace feeling only your dad can seem to give you. the home feeling. you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling the warm smile trying to seep through the wedges in your teeth. you glance out the window, seeing all the familiar streets & shops. the Macleod bakery, Harvelles road house, the dentist your dad would fight tooth & nail to get you into. how was Garth now? you found yourself wondering. it’s been a long time since you were home, you couldn’t be happier. for the first time in years you felt as if you had absolutely no worries. none at all, well until your dad said

“i planned you a welcome home party, more like a bbq but dean was more than happy to let us use his grill. it’s saturday if that works for you sweetheart?”

Dean Winchester had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember, like an unofficial uncle who never missed a BBQ or a birthday. He and your dad, J.P., had been best friends since their teens, inseparable through thick and thin. Dean was brash, charming, and had a knack for pushing your buttons in the way only he could. you hadn’t seen him since Christmas, but the memory of his teasing smirk lingered in your mind.

“sweetheart? is that okay?”

you fumble over your words, trying to push them out & making them seem as nonchalant as possible.

“yeah uh that’s fine dad. can’t wait”

you glance up to see your dad pulling into his usual parking spot outside Bobby’s diner. Bobby was a good man, your dad’s parents weren’t around when you were born so Bobby was quick to claim you as his own granddaughter. blood or not, youre family. as you open the creaky door of your dads old truck, you find every peace of worry gone again. you practically skip to the door, tearing it open as you glance around. ‘that old man really doesn’t change shit’ you thought to yourself.

“sticks? is that really you?”

you thought you were fine, you really convinced yourself until you heard that deep baritone voice. now you felt the ache of tears pressing against your eyes. you whip your head around, eyes meeting the one & only Bobby Singer. the whole diners stopped eating & talking. honing in on the grumpy old man facade slipping from Bobby’s face. you find yourself jogging over to him, he drops the tray to the floor as he quickly envelopes you into a hug.

“Pops! it’s so good to see you”

your voice is muffled from the hold Bobby has on you, his own tears falling down his face into his flannel to mix with yours. you glance up meeting his eyes as he says

“damnit girl, i can’t believe you’re here. how was school? you back for good?”

you pull yourself away hesitantly

“i’m back for good pops. finishing out my last semester here, was hoping you still had that waitressing position open”

your eyebrows shoot up hopefully as a small smirk falls on your face, Bobby wraps his arm around your shoulder as he chuckles

“for you? of course.”

Bobby’s eyes finally meet your fathers, he pulls Jp into a tight hug

“hell boy why didn’t you tell me she was coming home. i’d have-“

jp chuckles as he cuts bobby off

“listen old man, you got enough going on. plus i figured a surprise would do you some good. especially a sticks shaped surprise”

hours passed as you sat & caught up with Bobby, his eyes never leaving yours. almost like he couldn’t believe you were really here. you talked about school, the waitressing job you had in California (but making sure to let Bobby know no place could compare to his). as you ate a smile never left your face, Jp & Bobby telling you stories about the 4 years you were gone. youre laughing, you’re crying. you didn’t know you could feel so many emotions just by coming home. you’re about to leave when Bobby pulls you aside. hugging you as he tells you

“sticks now listen. i know you don’t wanna hear what i’m bout to say but i also know if you hear it from anyone else you’ll lose it. Col-“

you pull away, locking eyes with Bobby

“pops please don’t-“

“wait just a second lemme finish. Colters getting married. got a baby on the way”

you felt the ground beneath your crumble. no, no, no. that couldn’t be happening. your highschool sweetheart. your first kiss, your first- well everything. sure he was mean, a tiny bit abusive but he was yours. or so you thought.

“what do you mean pops? he- he can’t be. there’s no way”

you stumble back but before you fall, bobby’s arms are around you.

“i know kiddo. i know. but hey, maybe it’s better this way huh?”

his hands are wiping the tears you didn’t realize were falling. you had so many questions, did he really love me? how could he move on? why did he never reach out? well maybe it’s because he was too busy out getting some skank pregnant. wait no you can’t think like that, she didn’t do anything to you. it wasn’t like this mystery woman was holding your heart in your hands, no that was that stupid prick Colter.

“who?”

“who what sticks?”

bobby’s eyes look too worrisome. you hate when he gives you those eyes.

“who is he marrying”

bobby sighs, suddenly finding the sticky old floorboards far more interesting than the expression that’s gunna cross your face.

“jo.”

oh that hurt, jo. jo harvelle. your childhood bestfriend. bobby’s grip tightened on you, holding you steady as you go through the waves crashing through you. anger. hurt. betrayal. your dad approaches, seeing the light leave your eyes. he glances at Bobby, sharing a knowing look with him. he wraps his arm around, letting you bid your farewells as he lead you to the truck. as he opened the door for you, you slung yourself into the seat.

“sticks i- i’m sorry”

you wipe the rest of the tears from your face, nodding as you glance around the truck. your eyes get stuck on the polaroid of you & jo. a picture you used to cherish so deeply, but now you’d rather see it cast into the pits of hell. your dad catches what you’re eyes are lingering on as he closes your door. he makes his way around to his side, quickly grabbing the polaroid & stashing it away. he knew when you got told the news things would be different, your pain would be different. Colter was one thing, your highschool sweetheart who never lived up to the ‘sweetheart’ part. the man who made you shed more tears than you ever should’ve, the man who left you alone wondering where he was most nights when he was shacking it up at Harvelles bar, who wouldn’t answer his phone. your dad knew all this, he was the one you called when you couldn’t take it anymore. he was the one who came & picked you up from Colters parents house the night you ended things. the night you found out he cheated. 2 weeks before you left for college. your dad also knew that after you left, there wasn’t a thing he could say or do to make you come back. Jo on the other hand, she was your best friend. practically your sister. there wasn’t a weekend where Jo wasn’t at his house, in his pool, watching you & him work on cars & when you got older the one who helped you sneak those cars out. the one you called when Colter wasn’t treating you right. the one who called you when she knew Colter was at her moms bar. it felt unreal to your father, he couldn’t imagine how you felt.

The hum of tires on asphalt filled the silence as you pulled into the driveway of your childhood home. The house looked the same—warm porch lights glowing, the familiar sight of your first car parked sideways on the side of the house. the garage open, showing the new muscle car your dad must be going nuts over. Jp killed the engine and exhaled deeply. After four years away at college, home felt both comforting and alien.

Inside, you found seemingly nothing changed. the recliner was still the same, the stacks of car manuals everywhere, the coffee cup sized rim indentions on your dads side table, the only different thing was a picture you & your dad took on the 4th of july hanging above the tv stand. you’re standing in a pair of old jean shorts, your red bikini top sneaking out the side of your old worn white t-shirt covered in motor oil. your dad has his signature blue dodgers cap on, his mechanic uniform still clinging to him. laughing right back with you as he holds his belly. Sam took the picture & you were so thankful he did. you carried yourself up to your childhood bedroom, the only thing that changed was the size of the bed. instead of the measly little twin you now were the proud owner of a queen. the sage green comforter looked like a cloud, a dream even.

you dig out a change of clothes, your toiletries & make your way to your bathroom. the peace sign poster you picked out with Jo staring menacingly at you through the reflection. you hesitate for a second before deciding to rip it down. you crumble it up, throwing it in the trash can as you run a hand through your hair. stupid. that’s how you felt. why did you think you’d come back & everything would be waiting for you like the day you left? your eyes longed for tears to fall, you glance up catching yourself in the reflection before you shake your shoulders & sigh. you rip the airport clothes off, turning on a hot shower as you slip in. you hum the tune of an AC/DC song as you lather the soap in your hands & through your hair. you’re back, regardless of how anyone else feels. your got your job back at Bobby’s, you’re finishing your degree this year. everything’s gunna work out. everything’s gunna be fine, but if that was the truth why did you feel as if something was missing?

you get out of the shower, quickly drying off as you throw on a old tank top & a pair of sweats. you towel dry your hair, glancing over to the fogged up mirror as you pull a brush through it. you throw your dirty clothes in your laundry basket as you slide on your slippers. you make your way back to your room, settling down on the bed as you open up your bag.

your dads footsteps tear you from your thoughts, you glance up as he’s carrying a beer. you take it thankfully as he settles beside you on the bed, glancing over at your guitar case.

“you still play sticks?”

you nod, as you take a swig of your beer

“i do. ain’t played as much as id like too with how busy things have been though”

your dad takes a swig of his own beer, he smiles as he says

“well after dinner i want you to play me something”

you smile & nod, you loved playing for your dad. he’s who taught you really, who gave you the guitar you lug around everywhere. you run your fingers absentmindedly across the label of the beer as you think back to the time he gave you the guitar. it was your 11th birthday, the smile he beamed down at you was something you’d never allow yourself to forget. that, that was probably your happiest memory. your dads voice interrupts your thoughts as he says

“well i’ll be out in the garage. we’ll have some company for dinner since i gotta work from home today. you need me you come find me okay sugar?”

you smile to yourself, boy was it great to have someone care so much for you. you were used to just being ignored, not making but 1 singular friend in your years of college. Ashley. she was like a girl you’d never met before, ambitious, smart, beautiful, funny. the sarcasm that girl carried was something unreal. your dad already loved her after meeting her the one singular time he flew out to visit. you plop down on your bed, pulling your phone out as you quickly press ashley’s number. she picks up after the 3rd sing yelling through the phone

“sticks! come back oh god i’ll never make it without you”

sticks? since when did ashley also call you that? what is with everyone wanting this nickname to stick? you roll your eyes at your unintentional pun

“well hello there ash i miss you too” you giggle into the phone

“but no seriously how is it? feel better being at home?”

you bite back the endless trials of emotions you went through today, choosing not to unload the disaster your life’s become in a measly 24 hours. you find yourself picking at the thread of your sweats as you offer small talk, informing her you got your job back at the diner until you graduate. her swearing she’s flying out the second the gets the chance. you giggle & talk as you glance at the clock, you realized you completely lost track of time & you were sure dinner was ready. you hang up, promising you’ll call her after your first day as you make your way downstairs, the scent of ordered in pizza catches your nose as you giggle to yourself. as your feet touch the bottom step your dad turns to you

“well there she is, cmon sticks say hello”

you walk around the doorframe as your heart catches in your throat. Dean. Winchester.

“hey Freud” he greeted, his voice low drawl “long time no see”

“Freud, really?” you arched any eyebrow, meeting his gaze. his green eyes sparkled with mischief, & that smirk — God that smirk — was firmly in place.

“Freud, Jung, whoever you kids are into these days” dean shot back, standing from his place on the couch.

your dad chuckles

“don’t mind him, he’s just mad he’s too old to understand what you’re studying”

you laugh as you shake your head

dean cuts in as he says

“oh i understand it just fine” he said as he walks up to you “it’s all about mommy issues, right?”

you snorted

“i’m studying psychology, not you dean”

your dad burst out laughing, deans smirk faltering for a moment. he gave you an exaggerated bow as he says “Touchè”

as your dad drags dean over to the table you let yourself study his features, he looked the same — rough around the edges but effortlessly put together. his hands calloused & stained in motor oil. the veins prominent as he grabs the pizza box, smiling at something your father said. you quickly averted your gaze, feeling an unwelcomed heat creep up your neck.

“so sticks you nervous bout being back?”

your dad asks

you hesitated unsure of how to answer especially after the whirlwind of emotions you had to overcome today.

“a little. it’s been awhile, you know? i’m used to being busy all the time. having my job back at Pops surely will help though”

“well you’re home now.” your dad said, his voice warm. “relax, eat something other than cafeteria food & maybe give some of your old man here some of that brainiac advice” he beams

“careful” dean adds smirking, “you might open a can of worms with that one if you ain’t careful ‘old man’ “

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smirk that fell on your face. it felt good to be back, banter, baggage & all.

—————————————

by the time you made it to the table you were trying to decide if you could just crawl up to your room or out the window, on the latter they would definitely know something was up. i mean your dad knew, he seen it first hand all day. but dean? no. he could not & would not see you crumble over something like that. it was hard enough to try to keep the actual relationship issues from dean when it happened, he definitely didn’t need the after effects.

you decided what’s the worst that could happen, you’re in your own home. with your father, & really you were just nervous. you did not expect to see dean today, not any day before saturday really. that’s why you find yourself turning to your dad & joking

“i’m surprised the houses still stands after how long i was gone”

“barely sticks” jp jokes as he grumbles “dean here only fixed the roof last week, don’t lean on the railing. it’s a death trap”

“hey that’s quality work” dean protests before taking a bite of his pizza

“quality work” you echoed, eyeing him. “remind me not to hire you when i get my own place.”

dean grins, leaning back in his chair as he wipes the pizza sauce from his lip

“don’t worry. i charge extra for smartasses”

your dad throws him a joking glare as he gets up to fetch some beers, leaving you both alone for the first moment since youve been home. you shift in your seat as you take a bite of your pizza.

“it’s good to see you sticks” dean said, his tone softer now as he catches your eye

you look up, startled by the sincerity in his voice. a small smile fights it way to your lips as you say “you too dean”

for a fleeting moment, you felt as if something electric, & impossible to ignore flashed between you. as quick as the moment appeared it dissolved when your dad breached the door with a huge grin

“beers here”

————————-

#dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x female character #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester imagine #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles #dean angst #dean fluff #dean winchester fluff #dbf!dean #do i wanna know master list

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scoupsakakitty · 8 days ago

Text

Where Friendship Meets Fate | idol!Mingyu x reader | fluff

The smell of sizzling meat filled the air as the group gathered around the grill, the small Korean BBQ restaurant bustling with energy. Y/N sat next to her childhood friend Dino, who had been hyping up this get-together for weeks.

“You’re going to love my hyungs,” Dino had promised with a grin when he’d invited her. “They’re fun, easy to talk to, and kind of chaotic—but in a good way.”

Now, Y/N was finally meeting them: Vernon, who exuded coolness but had an unexpectedly goofy side, DK, who was radiating sunshine with every word, and Mingyu, the tall, handsome guy sitting to her right. From the moment they introduced themselves, Y/N could tell that Dino hadn’t been exaggerating.

“Y/N!” DK exclaimed as she reached for the tongs to flip the meat. “Wait, wait! Let Mingyu do it. He takes grilling way too seriously.”

Mingyu, who was in the middle of pouring himself a drink, raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me? I’m not that bad.”

“You literally Googled the perfect grilling technique last time,” Vernon deadpanned, taking a sip of his soda.

“And let’s not forget the meat thermometer incident,” Dino added, smirking.

“Hey, that was one time!” Mingyu protested, taking the tongs from Y/N with a mock sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it. But only because I want us all to eat perfectly grilled meat.” He looked over at Y/N and gave her a wink. “You’ll thank me later.”

Y/N laughed, leaning back in her seat. “You sound like you’re auditioning for a cooking show.”

“That’s because he thinks he’s a professional chef,” Vernon teased.

“Let him be,” DK chimed in with a grin. “We all know he’s trying to impress Y/N.”

At that, Mingyu almost dropped the tongs, his ears turning red. “What?! I—no—I mean, come on, DK!”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, Mingyu. I’m already impressed by your dedication to grilling.”

“See?” Mingyu said, pointing at her with the tongs. “At least someone here appreciates me.”

As the evening went on, the banter continued, with everyone sharing stories and cracking jokes. Dino told embarrassing childhood anecdotes about Y/N, much to her dismay.

“And then,” Dino said, barely able to contain his laughter, “she got her foot stuck in the playground fence because she thought she could fit through it.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Why do you always bring that up? I was six!”

Mingyu leaned closer to her, his voice teasing. “So, you’ve always been a bit of a risk taker?”

“More like reckless,” Vernon added with a chuckle.

“Okay, okay, enough about me,” Y/N said, pointing at Dino. “Remember when you—”

“Don’t even start,” Dino cut her off, laughing as he held up his hands.

The conversation shifted again, and somehow, Y/N and Mingyu found themselves deep in a discussion about cooking.

“Do you cook often?” Mingyu asked, turning his attention to her while the others debated the best karaoke songs.

“Yeah, when I have time,” Y/N said. “It’s kind of my escape after a long day.”

“Same here,” Mingyu said, nodding. “It’s like therapy, but with food.”

Y/N smiled. “Exactly. Though I’ve had my fair share of disasters in the kitchen.”

“Disasters are part of the process,” Mingyu said. “It just means you’re experimenting.”

“Sounds like something a food scientist would say,” Y/N teased.

Mingyu laughed, a deep, warm sound that made her stomach flutter. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just looking for someone to try my experiments with.”

DK, overhearing, leaned over with a sly grin. “Are you asking her to be your cooking partner, Mingyu?”

“Mind your business, hyung,” Mingyu shot back, but he was smiling.

————————————————————————————-

By the time they finished eating, everyone was full and in high spirits. Dino suggested they hit a karaoke bar, and the group eagerly agreed.

The karaoke bar was vibrant and loud, the perfect setting for their group’s chaotic energy. DK and Dino immediately grabbed the microphones, belting out dramatic ballads and over-the-top dance moves that had everyone in stitches. Vernon followed up with a rap song, his surprisingly good flow earning him cheers.

Y/N and Mingyu stayed near the back of the room, occasionally joining in but mostly talking and laughing. Mingyu was easy to talk to, and his teasing, while relentless, only made the conversation more fun.

“So,” Mingyu said during a lull in the music, “are you not singing because you’re shy, or because you can’t reach the mic stand?”

Y/N gasped, pretending to glare at him. “That’s it. Give me the mic. I’m about to prove you wrong.”

Laughing, Mingyu handed her the microphone. She chose a playful, upbeat song and sang with so much enthusiasm that DK and Dino joined in as backup dancers. When the song ended, the room erupted into applause.

“Okay, I take it back,” Mingyu said, grinning. “You can definitely hold your own.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, pretending to bow. “I expect an apology for the height joke, though.”

Mingyu smirked. “Don’t push your luck.”

————————————————————————————-

Hours later, the group finally decided to call it a night. Outside the karaoke bar, everyone began saying their goodbyes.

“I’ll drive Y/N home,” Mingyu offered casually, twirling his car keys in his hand.

“You don’t have to—” Y/N started, but Dino cut her off.

“Take the offer. You know you hate walking home late at night.”

With a reluctant smile, Y/N nodded. “Alright, thanks, Mingyu.”

————————————————————————————-

As they drove through the quiet streets, the atmosphere in the car was warm and easy. Mingyu turned on some soft music, and they chatted about everything from their favorite foods to their most embarrassing cooking failures.

When they pulled up to her building, Mingyu turned off the engine and glanced over at her.

“I had fun tonight,” he said, his voice soft but sincere.

“Me too,” Y/N replied, smiling.

Mingyu hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone. “Can I get your number? You know, in case I need someone to taste-test my next cooking experiment.”

Y/N laughed. “Only if you promise not to call me short again.”

“No promises,” Mingyu teased, handing her his phone.

After she saved her number, Mingyu leaned back with a satisfied smile. “How about this: we cook together sometime? You can teach me how to not burn pancakes.”

“Deal,” Y/N said, opening the car door.

As she stepped out, Mingyu called after her, “Oh, and don’t worry—I’ll bring a stool so you can reach the top shelves.”

Y/N groaned, but her laughter echoed in the quiet night.

As Mingyu drove away, he couldn’t stop smiling. For him, the evening had been more than fun—it felt like the start of something special.

————————————————————————————-

#seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen #seventeen mingyu #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu seventeen #mingyu svt #svt x y/n #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt #svt imagines #svt fanfic #mingyu fluff #mingyu fanfic

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thegnomelord · 5 months ago

Text

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land Ch: 1

CW: Canon typical violence, gore and violence, Canon alterations, GN reader for now, eventual Kim Dokja/reader/Yoo Joonghyuk, AO3

Summary: When you were a child, you learned two lessons. One of them, your parents had carved into your bones with tongues as sharp as swords: Some things will always be out of your control.

Perhaps this was why you had emersed yourself in fiction from a young age, because it allowed you to feel true freedom through the lives and struggles of the characters, to live out their happy endings even if your treacherous heart didn't allow one for yourself.

But those times were coming to an end.

Here you were, a foreigner in Seoul, one contract away from losing all you had worked to achieve. At times like this, you would wonder what the protagonists would do, what you would do in a lawless world like ORV, where the lessons you had learned would loose their meaning...

Could you reach your own happy ending? Or would you fail once again?

As they say; Be careful what you wish for.

It's funny how quickly life can fall to pieces.

Not even two weeks ago you had still been known as the choreographer and back up dancer of 'cODe X', a relatively underground kpop group quickly garnering mainstream popularity thanks in large part to your unique and 'chaotic' style of choreography meshing wonderfully with their abstract sense of music. And you were good at your job too; whether it was working from the shadows as their dance coach or on the main stage as a back up dancer, one thing was clear— you knew how to entertain.

Of course working for them hadn't been all sunshine and roses, as the many sleepless nights could attest. Frankly you had lost count how many times you had stayed late in the studio, chasing away fatigue with caffeine and prayers just so you could perfect a routine. Seeing as their boom in popularity and subsequent employment offer at a entertainment company had only happened a few months ago, the pay hadn't been the best either, but you didn't mind.

Hell, considering the bloodthirsty viper pit that was the Korean job market for foreigners, you were quite lucky to be working for them, and having to deal with their sleazy employer, than working one of the dirty, dangerous and demeaning jobs Korea would often offer to people like you...or worse: getting deported.

But your luck has run out.

Because some things will always be out of your control.

Now here you were; Sitting in a prestigious restaurant turned impromptu courtroom, where the judge was nowhere to be seen and the other costumers, like bought jurors, paid no attention to you or your plight. And why would they? Though you were the wronged party here, you sat at the table not as a victim deserving justice; But as the antagonist, as the villain.

Because the 'victim' had already won, and this farce was just for show.

...

Black beady eyes stared back at you through the glass as if it saw kinship between the two of you. But that was just your mind trying to console you; You knew that the only thought in the things' head was the instinctual drive to protect its unhatched young still stuck to its tail. It didn't even notice when one of it's kin was pulled out of the tank, leaving only two lobsters where once there had been three, just because someone had gotten hungry and decided they wanted grilled lobster tail.

You supposed you were no better than them, your life in the hands of someone else. Yet unlike the lobsters, who floated around the tank as they were still beneath the sea, you weren't ignorant to the powers that be...so why did that not make you feel any better?

A bottle of soju was placed on the table, tearing you away from your thoughts. You watched the waiter girl give a shallow bow and scamper off, turning your attention to the so called 'victim' of this mess.

Or you would have, if the damn copycat had actually showed up.

Instead of meeting the smug smirk of Juin, the bastard that had copied the choreography you had invented and performed step for step and then accused you of stealing his ideas, you were instead greeted by the best lawyer his daddy's money could afford; Although you hadn't paid enough attention to remember his name, the smile he had given you at the start of the negotiations would've made the devil proud.

You didn't have enough money to hire a snake like that, and going to court over this matter with your budget was out of the question. Hell, the only reason you had a competent lawyer of your own, instead of the one the entertainment company had tried to give you, was because he was a fan turned friend of yours.

"As I was saying," The lawyer cleared his throat. He was a short man and looked old enough to be mistaken for one of the Elders. "My client is happy to drop all charges provided your client issues a public apology and agrees not to sign any more choreography or dance specific contracts for the next four years." And just like the Elders, you couldn't underestimate him.

"Are you kidding me?" Choi Chin-Mae's bewildered voice pulled you out of your musings.

Chin-Mae was short even by Korean standards, and looked like a pipsqueak when next to you. His eternal baby face only complicated matters, with light brown hair and honey colored eyes he looked more like your little brother than a man one year away from being thirty and several years your senior. Because of his youthful appearance, people would underestimate him in the courtroom, and in doing so would unwittingly dig their own graves as Chin-Mae turned out to be a vicious lawyer when he could go before a judge.

"Non-competition agreements must be fair for the one sighing it, but what you are asking of my client is grossly abusive and would impair my client's livelihood and employment opportunities more than the common six month long NCA's." Chin-Mae argued. "And, I can't believe I have to say this, but you would know that such a contract is illegal and wouldn't be binding in any country, least of all ours."

Unfortunately, you couldn't go in front of a judge, even if the claims were baseless, the attorney and court fees would surely bankrupt you. It's the reason why you had agreed to try settling this outside of court.

The opposing lawyer smiled at Chin-Mae as if he was a child, "Mister Choi, my client isn't asking for them to sign an NCA."

You could see Chin-Mae narrow his eyebrows, his mouth opening to form a rebuttal, but no sound came out as the other lawyer held up his hand, taking a long sip of his soju. When he was done, he put the glass on the table, before speaking. "My client expects yours to do this on their own accord, without a signed NCA."

"That's preposterous," Chin-Mae scoffed, "No judge would allow that." He shot back, already beginning to form another reply when he was cut off again.

"Oh?" The lawyer asked, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his lip. "Then would your client like to go to court over this matter as we had originally intended and see what the judge decides?"

Chin-Mae closed his mouth, his lips pressed into into a thin line. You could see the gears in his head turning, struggling to come up with a rebuttal.

You sighed internally. As sad as it sounded, you were used to this; This disappointment and failure and powerlessness.

Maybe that was why you felt so calm at the moment...either that or the stress over the past few weeks had made you numb as a rock. Either way, Juin was richer and more influential than you, and with his daddy's money, you were certain that the populace would see you as the selfish copycat and the truth would be buried six feet deep where it could rot alongside your reputation.

Was this how the author of TWSA felt when SSSSSS-grade Infinite Regressor came out and became wildly popular?

"Of course, my client isn't heartless." You found that hard to believe, but held your tongue. "He is willing to offer a...different method to resolve this problem."

You and Chin-Mae glanced at one another, your friend only shrugging his shoulders as the other lawyer rifled trough his suitcase.

"Here we are," The lawyer pulled out a thick stack of papers bound together at the corner. You had to assume it was a contract, though even in the entertainment industry you had never seen a contract that was as thick as a Bible.

He placed it on the table, sliding it towards you. You only managed to read the first few lines, most of it meaningless lawyer lingo, before Chin-Mae snatched it and began reading through it, softly mumbling some legal jargons under his breath that you had no hopes of understanding.

"What is Juin offering?" You asked, far too tired or numb to call the copycat with any respect (not that he deserved any).

The lawyer didn't even bat an eye at your disrespect. "In short, the employer of my client is offering for you to come work under my client." He explained, taking another long sip of his drink. "You are remarkably talented for someone so young," He offered, the compliment wounding your pride more than any insult from your parents ever could. "It would be a shame to see it wasted for such a stupid mistake like the one you had made."

You narrowed your eyes, but otherwise were able to hold your poker face. "And my obligations if I signed it?"

Judging by the fact that Chin-Mae had grown as silent as the grave while reading the aforementioned contract, whatever was in store for you wasn't good.

"My client still expects a public apology for the damage you had caused to his reputation." The lawyer gave you an innocent smile, "You will also be required to terminate your previous contract with your current employer, but that one is obvious." He then began listing off even more conditions, from low wages to obscenely long work hours and even more draconian requirements.

It was little better than the slave contracts the 'cODe X' members had signed.

Chin-Mae echoed your sentiment, nearly frothing at the mouth as he slapped the contract on the table. Still, he was able to hold himself back from starting off his sentence with an insult. "The contract says nothing about their visa, how can we be sure you shi—"

Quick as a flash you elbowed him in the ribs, punching a pained sound out of him and cutting him off before he could say something stupid in the heat of anger. He glanced at you, before nodding his head and clearing his throat. "...Will the company provide continued renewals of my clients' work permit provided they sign the contract?"

The lawyer watched this all go down with amusement, but luckily didn't comment on your minor display of violence. "That is correct." He nodded his head, turning to look at you. "The entertainment organization has already prepared all the necessary documents on their end, barring your employment contract, which we are discussing at this moment." He motioned to the stack of papers sitting on the table.

Your friend grew silent, watching the old lawyer take a sip of soju, before he asked. "Is there room to negotiate the details of this contract? Multiple aspects and stipulations of this contract leave a legal grey area and the employer's expectations for my client aren't any clearer."

Or, in other words; it was legal on paper, and only on paper.

"I'm afraid not," The lawyer have you a sympathetic smile, though you were sure it was about as real as Juin's nose if the tabloids about his plastic surgeries were to be believed. "This is the only contract my client is willing to offer you...no alterations allowed." The old man leaned into his chair as he finished off his soju, motioning to the papers in front of you. "You can sign it now or you can meet my client in court and let the judge decide the outcome. What do you say?"

Oh, you had a lot to say, most of it unfit even for a PG18 audience.

To think that this bastard had framed you as a plagiarist, dragged your name and reputation through the mud, and was now aiming to squeeze what joy and creativity you had left in your soul like it was a wet rag...and he hadn't even bothered to show up in person to do so.

A dark voice, locked away deep in the caverns of your heart, whispered a seductive thought in your ear: Drown the lawyer in the lobster tank!

But you shouldn't, couldn't, do that.

Chin-Mae sagged in his chair, looking at you with a worry in his eyes. "What...what should we do?"

You frowned, what else was there for you?

You pulled the contract in front of you, flipping over to the last page. You reached into your pocket, fingers ghosting over cold metal as they went past it and grasped the dojang you carried around. At this point, the instinct to carry it around was no difference than the ingrained need to have sharp steel hidden in your pocket or boot.

"What other choices do we have?" You asked, the question rhetorical in nature.

"None that would be in your best interest." The lawyer helpfully informed you, pushing forward a small contained of red dojang ink. You were only slightly surprised they weren't asking you to sign the devil's contract with your own blood, though the irony of red ink wasn't lost on you.

The dojang hovered over the signature mark, the nerves you had locked away so well until now making themselves known through a slight tremor in your hands which only got worse the longer you hesitated. Oh, how you wanted to take matters into your own hands, like the protagonists of ORV or some other manga. Those heroes who could to push through their problems or fool the gods themselves, forging their own path with nothing but the strength in their arms and their wits...But fiction wasn't reality, and some things would always be out of your control.

If only you could change your future.

The lights cut out, plunging you in darkness.

A shiver raced down your spine, followed closely by a cold sense of wrongness.

"What's happening?"

"Must be a power outage, nothing to worry about."

"Well they better fix it quick, I haven't finished eating."

You paid no attention to the voices of the other restaurant goers, something at the back of your mind urging you to check your phone. Your hand was already reaching for it long before your brain had fully processed the thought. The light burned your eyes, but even that failed to garner your attention as your eyes settled on what resided on your home-screen:

You have 5 new messages from: tls123

The lights came back on, but you didn't put your phone down, instead quickly opening the messages.

tls123: I am sorry. We failed.

tls123: In truth, I don't know how this happened, but you are here now.

tls123: Maybe you can succeed where we failed.

tls123: This should help.

tls123: [Attached 2 files titled 'Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World.TXT', 'Omnipresent Reader's Viewpoint.TXT']

You stared at your phone, unease and confusion bubbling in the pits of your stomach. Thoughts rolled around your head like tumbleweeds, forming questions which demanded answers you didn't have; Was this a joke? Was someone pranking you? It wasn't like bored teenagers never texted weird shit to random numbers, but they were never so specific.

On instinct you pressed the download button, before trying to type back a message. Only you couldn't; any letter you pressed would lag for a good five seconds if it even registered at all. Despite your best efforts, all you had typed out was an incomprehensive mess of letters. It seemed like your phone was using everything it had just to download those two files.

With a strange sense of deja vu, you checked the time on your phone — 7:02 p.m.

You couldn't tell what you felt at that moment; Anger? Sadness? Disappointment? Foolishness maybe?...This was real life, not fiction, what were you doing fooling yourself into thinking that it could be any different?

The call of your name from the lawyer had you switching off your phone and quickly putting it back in your pocket. "Yes, I'll sign it." You picked up the dojang, re-applying the ink. This time you only hesitated for a second before placing your seal on the dotted line, resigning yourself to your fate.

Then you heard a voice and you didn't even notice when you mouthed the words it said in sync with it:

[The free service of planetary system 8612 has been terminated]

[The main scenario has started]

You blinked rapidly before rubbing your eyes, wondering if you had finally lost what marbles you had left.

Then Chin-Mae muttered by your side, "Is that a...Dokkaebi?" Then a second later, under his breath. "I've got to cut back on that shit."

You whipped your head around quickly to look, forgetting to ask what that shit was as your ears began to ring, the dojang quietly slipping from your fingers at the sight you saw.

Floating in the center of the restaurant was a...a small furred creature, its off white fur contrasting with the tattered skirt/loincloth it had around its waist. Two budding horns sprouted from its head, like those of a little Billy goat.

"Wow, is this a new attraction?"

"It's kinda ugly looking."

The voices of others rang like church bells in your ears, yet they accomplished one significant thing — they proved that you hadn't gone insane just yet and that this thing was real.

As quick as you could you grabbed your phone, scrolling through your downloads until you found it: TWSA, all 3,149 chapters of it.

You scrolled through the chapters, only reading bits and pieces of it all as some part of you tried to prove to you that this was all just your imagination. You felt something at the back of your mind ding as you read through the chapters, lines you had seen in the ORV novel scattered among pages and pages of what had to be the original TWSA.

You looked up as the little creature tried to speak, but you already knew what would come out. Though it still surprised you how the language it spoke vaguely sounded like a bastardized version of your mother tongue.

['*#(w&$!*$!]

[#*@!%a!(*s(#!@#*&!]

"Hey, isn't that your language?" Chin-Mae asked, turning to look at you.

You shrugged one shoulder, no less confused than him. "If it is, that's the worst accent I've ever heard."

Then a few seconds later, you heard perfectly pronounced Korean leave the little creature's mouth. "I, I am really sorry everyone, the Korean patch wasn't...um working properly." It said, but something was strange;

Why did it look like that, you knew webtoon artists took some liberties but you were certain that the Dokkaebi from ORV was white with golden horns, not off-white with brown horns. And it certainly hadn't been as polite, and was this really how it sounded in real life?

The little creature cleared its throat. "Now...May I have everyone’s attention, I, I have big important news!” It tried to sound commanding by raising his voice, but either because of fear or stage-fright it failed to garner the attention it wanted.

"Do you think they sell plushies like that?"

"Do you really think the girls would like it?"

"Mommy I want one! I promise I'll take good care of it and feed it, and walk it, and pick up after it!"

You had no idea how that was possible, but parts of the Dokkaebi's fur turned pinkish red almost like it was flushed from embarrassment. "I, uh-I mean-mhh!" It flinched suddenly as if hit by some unseen force. It turned into itself slightly, a small galaxy appearing in its hands. "My...My apologies d-dear constellations! I-I, uh...I will begin right now!"

With that you saw its horns elongate, becoming almost as big as the rest of its body.

A shiver raced down your spine, blood roaring in your ears.

You knew what would happen.

"This is stupid." The lawyer muttered, standing and quickly grabbing the contract you had all but forgotten about. "I am afraid I am unable to stay to this childish theatric, until next time we meet."

Chin-Mae flinched, pushing his chair back as he began to stand up to stop the lawyer. "Now wait a minute we aren't fini-"

Quick as lighting you reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder before roughly pushing him back down, your fingers digging into his shoulder with a level of savagery and roughness he didn't think you possessed. Any protests he tried to make were silenced by your palm quickly being pressed over his mouth, not letting a single sound escape him. You pushed his head to look at you, your fingers digging into his cheek and jaw hard enough to leave bruises.

He grabbed your wrist, trying to pull your hand away, only to freeze in place when his eyes met yours.

You didn't think you wanted to know what he saw in them.

'Don't. Move' You mouthed to him, not even a whisper escaping your lips.

[I need you to listen to me!]

A shot rang through-

Then the screaming began.

Several more shots rang out-.

The screams stopped as multiple heavy objects hit the ground.

A leg landed on your table, spraying you with blood.

Your palm muffled what pathetic noises Chin-Mae made, his trembling hands gripping your sleeve in a bruising grip.

Though your iron-like grip on his mouth kept Chin-Mae looking at you, his pulse thump thump thumping like a war drum beneath your fingers, you couldn't stop yourself from looking.

It was like a car crash, you couldn't look away. Your eyes wandered around, unable to settle on one specific thing; From the sight of blood stained immaculate floor, to the multiple limbs scattered around the place like morbid decorations, to the bodies of those who had tried to run laying on the floor. They were surprisingly still alive, writing soundlessly as they tried to stop the bleeding. You glanced at where the lawyer had gone to, only to find him alive with a missing leg.

[I..Did I do good? Yes?]

Slowly, you let go of Chin-Mae's shoulder, motioning for him to stay quiet with your hand. You waited until he nodded, before pulling away your palm from his mouth, his hands still gripping your forearm.

His chest rose to hiccup and you were prepared to slam your hand back over his mouth...but he held it it, biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed. A stray tear slowly rolled down his cheek, his trembling hands bound to leave bruises on your arm.

[Then, I-]

The Dokkaebi coughed, its voice returning to normal. "I have to inform you that...that the free service of this planetary system has ended. As of right now you will have to pay for your lives." It looked up, as if listening to someone.

Evidently it wasn't something nice, as a moment later it visibly flinched into itself, almost hugging the galaxy to its chest. "Ri-right, we are already behind schedule!" It began fumbling with something in the galaxy you couldn't see, sweat condensing on its fur in visible drops.

You blinked, a small window emerging in front of your eyes.

[The main scenario has arrived!]

[Main Scenario #1 — Proof of Value]

Category: Main

Difficulty: F

Clear Conditions: Kill one or more living creatures

Time Limit: 30 minutes

Compensation: 300 coins

Failure: Death

You stared at the screen before raising your head enough so you could look around with just your eyes, your thoughts running a mile a minute. Not a single person dared to move a muscle, afraid that doing so would draw the furry fairy's wrath even when the game had already started. You knew you had to be careful too, you weren't the protagonist of TWSA or ORV, and without any powers the information you possessed would only take you so far.

Wait...attributes!

Quietly you whispered 'Attribute Window' under your breath, half expecting to be met with an error message.

Only you didn't receive anything at all.

What?

Turning on your phone once again you scrolled through TWSA, a shiver racing down your spine as you found yourself reading through nearly ten chapters in less than a minute. Then you quickly switched over to ORV, hoping to find something or for something to happen when you read it, though you were unsure how much this information would help you considering you weren't in a train car. But it had worked for Dokja, and you had read it as well...so why wasn't it working for you?

[The Dokkaebi smiled faintly as it became transparent and disappeared into the next space.]

You glanced up at the Dokkaebi. It was still floating in the air, watching the people in the restaurant as if they were the predator and it was the prey. Why? Surely it knew how much power it had over you? And why hadn't it disappeared after giving the announcement? Bihyung had done that in ORV...wait!

You nearly facepalmed, this wasn't Bihyung! It only took you a few seconds to scroll through ORV before you found the creature most resembling the one in front of you: Youngki, the low-level Dokkaebi who took over when Bihyung had been busy. When he had first appeared he didn't know how to show messages; it would make sense why you weren't getting any notifications, he probably didn't know how to turn them on.

But why wasn't Bihyung here? Wasn't he the one streaming in Seoul?

You would have to search for answers to those questions later, right now you had to survive.

You checked the clock, only a single minute had passed, yet you knew if you didn't do something you wouldn't have much time left. In ORV Youngki was a pushover, and now that you had TWSA, you had a better chance of making a deal with him like Dokja had made with Bihyung. And more importantly, you knew how this game worked.

You wouldn't survive playing by the house's rules.

You glanced at the lobster tank, the water had been dyed a scarlet red as the two lobster munched on some unfortunate person's arm.

Then you looked around at the people, every single one of them frozen stock still like statues. Without someone to spark the fear in their hearts to make them act, they would all die. You doubted there were any chuuni in the restaurant to incite the violence as there had been in the train...If you didn't act, you would be no better than them, but could you live with yourself after knowingly sentencing these people to death? How would that make you any better than the monsters or the constellations?

Chin-Mae's trembling pulled you out of your thoughts. Though his hands still clutched your arm like a lifeline and he stared off into space beyond you, the look in his eye told you that it wasn't fear that made his arms shake, but rage.

You made up your mind.

People would die regardless, but in this apocalypse only those willing to fight had a chance of survival.

"Chin-Mae, listen to me." You gently slapped his cheek, cursing to yourself when he continued to stare past you into oblivion, consumed by whatever war was happening in his head. "This is a bad situation, but if you want to see Junior again, you have to listen to me." You hissed, and that got his attention better than a kick in the balls could.

Was it manipulative to use her against Chin-Mae? Maybe, but what choice did you have?

"Really?" Chin-Mae asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You hummed instead of answering and pointed to the lobster tank. "See that?"

He followed your finger with his eyes and nodded when he saw the unlucky crustaceans. You asked him to look at the scenario conditions again, and you could clearly see him reach the same conclusion you had; it never said the living thing had to be human.

You quickly told him your plan in hushed whispers, "Do you understand?" You asked as you pulled your other hand away from him, his fingers lingering on the fabric of your clothes before he let go.

"Ye-Yes." You nodded as he answered, before reaching down to your boot. You grasped the handle before quickly pulling out the knife hidden there, offering it to Chin-Mae.

"Huh?!" Chin-Mae sputtered as he looked at the blade, the metal glinting under the restaurant's lights. "Why-uh...why do you have this?"

You shrugged your shoulder; Now wasn't the time to delve into your skeleton stuffed closet just to answer that question. "I'll tell you later, now shh." You shushed him and urged him to concentrate on the plan, waiting for him to nod in confirmation before you stood up, one hand reaching into your pocket to feel the comforting cold steel of a second blade hidden there.

You felt something at the back your mind tingle, but it disappeared before you could figure out what it was.

Taking a final moment to prepare yourself mentally, you began walking towards the furry fairy. You passed the old lawyer on your way towards it, his silent begging for help with his eyes amusing some dark part of you. Any good person would have tried to help...But you had to concentrate on the living.

After all, you couldn't turn back time, you only had one shot at this.

"Hey, fluffy!" You called, garnering the attention of every pair of eyes in the room, coming to stand as close to the floating creature as you could while still keeping a safe distance.

"Huh, whah?!" It turned around so quick you were surprised it's neck didn't snap. "Are yo-ah- are you talking to me?"

Were there any other furry fairies around? You wondered to yourself, but you quickly realized you had said that out loud as dusty pink patches quickly spread all over his body. "Say," You quickly began, hoping a change of topic would cover up your verbal blunder. "You're new to this streamer business, no?"

Your words made the Dokkaebi jump so hard his horns nearly touched the ceiling. "Wha-how-why-how do you-" He sputtered as he flew down to be right in front of you, the galaxy clutched tightly to his chest like he was a child with a toy.

You couldn't hold back a snort at that thought, quickly waving off Youngki's confused questions. "Well for one, you haven't enabled notifications and messages." You informed him, "I'm certain the constellations would like for us to know what they have to say." You added, aiming to light a small fire under his ass.

The dusty pink patches on Youngki's fur became dark red as he fumbled around with the miniature galaxy in his hands, "I, I, I am so sorry- I" You could see several stars in the miniature galaxy blinking in sync, as if laughing at the pint sized pipsqueak as he stuttered out more apologies, flushing an even deeper shade of red as he realized he didn't know how to do it.

"The 'on' button should be somewhere around...there." You tried to help him, motioning with your hand vaguely to the center of the galaxy in his hand as you recalled reading something about it in TWSA.

After a few moments he seemed to have gotten it working, a low sound of accomplishment leaving him as messages began popping up.

A sharp pain bloomed behind your eyes. You groaned and clutched your head, willing your eyes to stay open as message after message appeared before you. The novels never mentioned anything about the messages making your head hurt...

[#Yo-7623 channel is open]

[The constellations have entered]

[Your reading speed has increased due to the effect of the exclusive attribute '?????']

[You can't activate the Attribute Window]

[Exclusive skill, 'From the Shadows Lv. 1' has been activated in the background]

[You are one step closer to the conditions to use the exclusive skill '????? Lv. ?']

[You are close to the conditions to use the exclusive skill 'Genesis Lv. 1']

[Several Constellations laugh at the Dokkaebi 'Youngki']

[Several Constellations are curious about you]

You waved away the messages with an irritated sound leaving you, the pain behind your eyes disappearing as soon as you did so. You would have to look at those later.

Shaking your head to chase away the lingering pain you turned back to look at Youngki, who was now looking at you with apprehension. "Now then," You began, "Do you what's the fastest killer of infant streams like yours?"

Youngki shook his head like a little kid and floated just a bit closer to you, staring at you as if you had all the answers to the universe, the galaxy still held close to his chest.

"Boredom." You spoke innocently, "Now, I don't know about the constellations, but no sponsor of mine would ever wait half an hour for nothing interesting to happen." You explained, putting your other hand into your pocket, the very embodiment of nonchalance. "Matter of fact, they'd be gone after ten minutes and wouldn't waste their time with you ever again." Something dark inside you found it amusing how the Dokkaebi's face grew more and more horrified as you continued to speak.

[The constellation who likes to change gender nods at your words]

The message scared the little guy even more than your words had; you were certain he would've had a heart attack the moment the message had appeared if he could.

"Fortunately for you, I'm something of an entertainer myself." The devil himself would have been jealous of the charming smile you gave Youngki, "So, how would the mighty constellations like raise the stakes?"

You were playing a dangerous game; like Russian roulette, only the constellations didn't need a gun, bullets, or a kick in the ass from lady luck to cut your life short. You couldn't make any mistakes, after all, there was no way to rewind time.

[You are one step away from being able to use the exclusive skill 'Genesis Lv. 1']

[Several constellations want you to elaborate]

"It's simple really," You shrugged. "A Constellation may choose to take off three minutes off the clock, in exchange for say...a 100 coins added to the overall reward." You explained, adding that the overall time left couldn't be less that 3 minutes, you were human after all.

[Several constellations look at one another]

"Or don't." You shrugged, pulling your hands out of your pockets, the hidden switch blade grasped tightly in your closed fist. "There's no shame in admitting you are afraid to lose your money~" You teased—

[The constellation who likes to change gender laughs at your boldness]

— It was the boldest, and dumbest, thing you could have ever done.

[A constellation has agreed to your terms]

Fortunately for you, fortune favored the bold.

[The time limit has been reduced: 27:24 → 24:24]

[The Compensation has been increased: 300 → 400 coins]

You smirked to yourself, but the smirk fell quickly when a different message popped up.

[The clear conditions have been changed: Kill TWO or more living creatures]

You cursed to yourself. You had known this might happen, yet you still hadn't expected it; a stray line in TWSA echoed in your mind as if to mock you: [The thrill seekers will always ask for more death]

That last message was like a fatal crack in the dam, and soon many more messages flooded your vision, pain blooming in your head as you watched the time rapidly decrease as the compensation increased and clear conditions changed. The other people watched you with growing worry and horror, yet even this wasn't enough to spark their survival instincts into action.

By the end of it, the compensation had risen to 900 coins, the time had decreased to just 9 minutes and 20 seconds, and the kill requirement had risen to 6 or more.

You hummed as you stared at the holographic screen deep in thought. You should temper your greed, yet as you looked up at the Dokkaebi, your eyes positively glinting, you knew you couldn't resist the tempting pull of fooling the 'Divine'.

"You know, if you wanted to make this even more interesting..." You paused, before shaking your head in an exaggerated motion. "No," You waved your hand dismissively, turning on your heel. "I don't think you could afford it."

You were only able to take a single step before the furry fairy had zoomed around to face you at the speed of light, stuttering out pleas to stop. A message from the, no doubt irritated, constellations popped up, only to be waved away without being read. "What?" You asked innocently, a new message appearing before your eyes.

[Some constellations are insulted, and wish to know your offer]

"Double the rewards and you can half the current time by half." You said, before quickly adding. "Without increasing the amount of creatures we have to kill, there are only so many people here." You waved your hand around in a vague gesture. "I swear to you, this will cause quite the commotion, and wouldn't that be entertaining?"

Right as you asked, a holographic video feed popped in the center of the restaurant, screams filling the silent restaurant, showing people killing each other all over the country.

[Die! Die!]

[No, please!]

[Don't hurt me!]

You could tell the specific moment when every single person figured out what you were doing. The collective fear in the restaurant so strong you could feel it on your tongue as you breathed. "So, what do you say?" You asked as if you didn't notice anything, looking up at the small Dokkeabi.

[Multiple constellations consider you a fool]

"Maybe I am," You admitted, "But fools make for great stories."

Your nonchalant answer seemed to shock the people into finding their own. Almost immediately after you had finished people began shouting:

"Don't listen to them!"

"Damn brat do you want us all killed!"

"Please spare me!"

"I don't want this!"

[The constellations accept your offer]

You didn't even wait for the next pop up windows to open, "Chin-Mae, now!" You ordered, your voice silencing all others. Something inside your skull shuddered, a thought that didn't belong to you whispering in your ears:

[The exclusive skill 'From the Shadows Lv. 1' has finished preparing, execute?]

Yes.

[The exclusive skill 'From the Shadows Lv. 1' has been executed]

A shiver raced down your spine, you could feel it in your bones, like something in the bedrock of the world had snapped.

A second later something black flew towards you. You just barely managed to catch it, slamming it violently on to the table, black sludge exploding over your hand, clothes and the people seated there.

...

[You have achieved the ‘First Kill’ achievement!]

[You have killed a living creature]

[100 coins have been earned as additional compensation.]

[You have killed a living creature]

[100 coins have been earned as additional compensation.]

...

Message upon message appeared before your eyes, you were quick to wave them all away before they made you head explode. You stepped back, the seated patrons staring at the crushed lobster eggs staining the tablecloth before looking up at you in bewilderment.

[Several constellations are displeased]

"Oh don't be like that," You rolled your eyes, holding up your hand, still stained black from lobster caviar. "The rules never stated that I had to kill humans, and lobster eggs are living creatures." You wiped off the black sludge staining your hand on the less noticeable portion of your clothes, knowing you would need to find a change of clothes after the scenario was over; blood and lobster sludge did not look good on you. "It isn't my fault you left the rules so vague."

[The constellation ‘Children of Mischief and Chaos’ are impressed by your scheme]

[The constellation who likes to change gender is impressed by your wit]

By mere chance you glanced to your side, only to see Chin-Mae standing in front of the lobster tank, the female lobster wriggling in his hold as it tried to protect the valuable eggs held under her tail. His other hand held the eggs, yet you could see it shaking, all of his attention concentrated on the videos of slaughter that were still playing above you.

"Chin-Mae, you moron, destroy tho!-"

You slapped your palm over your mouth as soon as your voice had registered in your brain, but it was in vain.

Every single person turned to Chin-Mae, ready to descend upon him like rabid dogs.

What have you done...

"Get him!"

[The constellations laugh at you]

#omniscient reader's viewpoint #kim dokja #yoo joonghyuk #reader #x reader #omniscient reader webtoon #orv webtoon #kim dokja x reader #kim dokja x yoo joonghyuk #kim dokja orv #yoo junghyuk #yoo jonghyuk x kim dokja #joo joonghyuk x reader #centerpieces of the hoard #reader insert #gender neutral reader #omniscient readers viewpoint #gonna rp the other chapters tomorrow

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separatist-apologist · 2 months ago

Text

The Other Side Of The Apocalypse

What would you trade the pain for?

Summary: One last grand adventure. Rhysand had promised his father that after this final journey, he would take a wife and resign himself to inheriting his title. As it turned out, Rhysand had other plans, and so did the huntress he'd encountered in the village.

Note: Sending my love.

Read on AO3 ・Previous Chapter・Masterlist

Chapter 7/9: The Sunshine Of My Lifetime

Rhys couldn’t get the taste of Feyre out of his mouth.

He’d tried, scrubbing his teeth twice and rinsing his mouth with something minty first, before chugging a cup of wine. Still, the sweetness of her lingered, making each step toward the sixth court miserable. Rhys wanted to return to Dawn and stay for the rest of his life, ideally.

But Feyre had been the one to insist they leave, Cassian trailing just behind her. Rhys liked Cassian, trading barbs and jokes for the better part of the morning. And his presence kept Rhys from grilling Feyre about their shared kiss.

Had she done it on purpose?

Had she enjoyed herself?

Did she want to kiss him again?

Predictably, Feyre betrayed nothing, her face placid, blue eyes focused on the path before them. Thesan had taken them directly to the border with a casual remark about the tunnels between Dawn, Day, and Night closed for obvious reasons. Feyre had nodded sagely, but Rhys had no fucking idea what that mean. Closed for what obvious reason?

Cassian walked between the pair of them, talking about anything and everything while Feyre stared into the distance. The air had become warmer and more humid with each step they took toward the Day Court palace. They should have asked Thesan to winnow them straight to the door.

Did there need to be so many rocky hillsides? Did the sun need to be so unrelenting? The sky so cloudless?

“Tell me about Day Court,” Rhys said, trying to distract himself from how sweaty he was, and more so with how sweaty Feyre was. Tendrils of golden brown hair curled around her face while little beads of sweat slid down her neck, tracing a path he’d like to follow with his tongue.

“You mean Prythian’s best court?” Cassian asked, earning a dark look from Feyre. “Day Court is home of countless scholars and even more libraries. All the knowledge of our people is housed here. It was the first court to be subdued in the ah…curse. The rest fell like dominoes.” “What can I expect?” Rhys heard himself asking, eyes darting from the unending hillsides stretched before him and Feyre half hidden by Cassian’s bulk.

Cassian only shrugged, wings pulled tight. “I guess we’ll find out together.”

“Are you going to be helping?” Feyre snapped, wiping her brow on the back of her hand.

“Oh, I’ll leave that to you two humans,” Cassian replied with a grin. “I just need to speak with the prince.”

“The one who owes you money?”

“Lucien,” Cassian agreed, far more forthcoming than Feyre had ever been. “I haven’t seen him since the curse. I never thought I’d miss the bastard.”

“We just need to get in and get out,” Feyre said in that straightforward way of hers.

“Eager to see the Lord of Night?” Cassian questioned. “You’re on your own for that fight.”

“Tell me about him,” Rhys said quickly, earning an exasperated sigh from Feyre.

“He can’t—he’s bound by the magic of the curse,” she said as Cassian opened and closed his mouth wordlessly. “They aren’t supposed to help us.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t tag along, see you get to the final trial in one piece,” Cassian said. It was more than that, though. Cassian had a mate riding on the outcome of things, and Rhys didn’t think he’d leave until she was either freed, or they were all dead. He couldn’t help, but that didn’t mean he had to stand idly by, either.

He almost asked Cassian to just fly them there. Surely, with all those muscles, he could handle it. “There it is,” Feyre murmured, pointing at a blinding light in the distance. The palace, Rhys realized, with spires that seemed to touch the sun itself. The golden dome reflected the sunlight back at them, causing him to shield his eyes with his hands the closer they got.

Unlike the other courts, the Day Court palace was situated atop a winding hilltop they were forced to climb, overlooking what must have once been a bustling city. Where had everyone gone? Had they fled? He wanted to open the doors of the empty homes and try and make sense of it.

Feyre trailed ahead, her back to Rhys. It was a nightmare—he couldn’t focus on anything but the sway of her hips and the way her braid moved back and forth from her shoulder to her spine. Cassain hung back, his expression wary, nostrils flared.

“I’ll leave you here,” he murmured, not getting close to the entrance of the palace.

“What about the prince?”

“I’ll talk to him when this is all resolved,” Cassian said, wings flaring. Rhys started to ask what he knew, but Feyre had vanished within the palace and Rhys felt compelled to follow her. The air smelled salty both inside and outside the expansive, marble palace. Was it beautiful? Perhaps the most beautiful place he’d ever seen?

The temperature dropped considerably once they were out of the sun, offering immediate relief. He could have used some water, but all things considered, Rhys was feeling a lot better than he had a few moments earlier. He jogged after Feyre, who was all but sprinting through the palace.

“Where are you going?” he asked, reaching out for her arm. “I’ve been trying to talk to you all day.”

“Rhys,” she breathed, and was it his imagination or were her cheeks flushed? Eyes dark? Fuck, he wanted to kiss her. “We need to just…do this.”

“We do?” he gaped, mouth falling open.

Feyre exhaled, her breath sweet against his face. When had he gotten so close. “The trial. We need…Rhys…”

“Just one kiss,” he murmured, sliding his palm over her cheek. He was so close—his lips all but touching hers, when the sound of shoes on marble began to echo around them.

All of Prythian was conspiring against him, he thought as Feyre skittered back, hands balled to fists at her sides. With her back pressed to the wall, Feyre turned to the hall where the obvious High Lord approached. Rhys would have known him even without the obnoxious golden crown set atop his onyx hair.

“The human who has come to save my home,” he said, offering an outstretched hand to Rhys. He ignored Feyre entirely as if he didn’t see her, and though Rhys bristled that he was getting all the credit, he accepted the warm hand all the same. “Welcome to Rhodes.”

Rhys offered what he hoped was a charming smile, trying to match the man—male—before him.

“Helion Spell-Cleaver,” Feyre said smoothly, unbothered in a way Rhys could only ever hope to achieve. “I thought you were locked up.”

“Life finds a way,” he replied, not bothering to explain himself to either of them. “Where’s Cassian?”

“How do you know Cassian is here?”

Helion rolled golden eyes, turning to look wholly at Feyre. Rhys didn’t like the look on the fae males face—that unguarded lust, that open hunger. It didn’t help that Helion was, by far, the most beautiful man—male—they’d encountered thus far. It didn’t help that he wore a white piece of material wrapped around his waist and secured with a heavy, circular piece of gold shaped like the sun, an arm cuff, and some wrist braces and absolutely nothing else.

He might as well have been naked—Rhys could all but see the curve of his ass beneath the cloth.

“I can scent him,” Helion replied.

“You know why he didn’t come in.”

Helion sighed. “This may be my last opportunity. Ah, well. You’re here…where did you start?”

Feyre’s eyes flickered to Rhys before she looked back at Helion. “Spring.”

“Is my court all that’s left?”

“And night,” she murmured, her voice taking on a softer quality. “But the others are liberated.”

There was a question lingering that the male didn’t dare ask, though his expression seemed to burn with it. He merely shrugged his shoulders as if it didn’t matter, glancing at Rhys again. “It won’t be as easy to liberate my home.”

“Respectfully, we killed a dragon,” Rhys snapped, his temper getting the better of him. Helion was walking around, wasn’t he? How bad could it be? He just wanted to get things over with so he could corner Feyre somewhere and demand she talk to him about what had happened earlier.

We kissed!

Feyre glanced away, eyes lingering on the floor beneath them.

“Drinking the wine makes it worse,” Helion told her before gesturing for them both to follow. “The task itself is simple. Walk through the throne room and destroy the burning incense.” Rhys’ steps faltered. “That’s it?”

Surely there was more to it. Helion threw Rhys a smile that irritated him and nodded. “That’s it.”

“Why haven’t you done it, then?”

“Rhys,” Feyre hissed, clearly frustrated. Helion only chuckled, pulling open the double doors to his throne room. The smell was cloyingly sweet and strangely salty, choking Rhys’s lungs as he blinked away tears. Coughing, Rhys waved at the fog in front of his face. Was it poison, then? Something the fae could withstand but would kill himself and Feyre?

He turned around to step back in the hall, but the doors had swung shut behind him. Helion was sauntering toward the large, golden throne situated upon an elevated dais. The floor itself was littered with pillows and bodies…all of which were naked. Were they dead?

No, he realized as hands began gliding up torsos. It was…it was…

“Is this an orgy?” Rhys whispered, eyes massive.

“We just…we walk across…the room,” Feyre reminded him, her eyes strangely unfocused. Rhys couldn’t stop staring at her. She’d put on clean clothes made of fine, Dawn Court material—the flowing white pants hugged her hips and the pale pink top shifted and rustled with each breath, revealing little bits of her tanned torso. The little wisps of hair framed her beautiful face and when she looked up at him, Rhys was struck by just how much smaller than him she was.

How they might fit together.

“Feyre,” he murmured, walking toward her. They had a moment. It was strange how easy it was to forget what was happening in that cavernous room. The sunlight pouring through open windows illuminated her form, turning the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose into a glowing constellation of stars.

Her lips parted, but no words escaped.

“You kissed me,” he reminded her, reaching for her face. Her skin was soft beneath his palm, and he could resist running his thumb over her plush lips. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Neither can I,” she admitted, sliding her fingers over his wrist to hold his hand in place. “But Rhys—”

“Let me just…” he lowered his face, waiting for the resistance to come. Feyre only tilted her chin toward him, her grip tightening.

“Just one,” she whispered.

“Just one,” he swore. There would be others when they finished their embarrassingly simple task. He’d kiss her for luck, they’d destroy the incense, and then he’d ask for a private room and see what he could get away with.

It was better than the first one. Perhaps because it lacked urgency, or simply because he knew she was seeing him. Really seeing him, touching him, offering herself to him. Rhys couldn’t help the groan that escaped him, teeth scraping her bottom lip. Feyre pressed closer, hand leaving his wrist to grip his shoulders. He was barely conscious of himself, especially when she sighed against his lips, nails digging through the fabric of his shirt.

Rhys hadn’t realized he’d hauled her up into the air until her legs wrapped around his waist, causing her body to rub against his erection. Fuck. In the list of things he hadn’t noticed, his rapidly hardening cock was one of them. The other was the room they were in slowly coming to life. The once lethargic bodies began to rouse themselves, touching and tasting without concern for who might be watching.

Rhys could relate to that. He was only peripherally aware of his surroundings, especially when Feyre’s tongue slid into his mouth. Mother above, but Rhys lost all sense of self at that moment. She tasted better than he’d dreamt, hazy and sweet in a dizzying concoction. Rhys needed…he needed more. He was desperate, quenching his thirst for the first time in his life.

She tugged at his hair, pulling his head back so she could all but devour him. Rhy’s knees shook, though he remained standing only through the grace of the gods above them.

“Walk, Rhys,” she pleaded, her voice breathless with arousal. That’s what she said. What he heard her say, however, was a different matter entirely.

Fuck me until I forget my name, Rhys.

He took a step, stopping when her thighs clenched around his middle. How was he supposed to do anything? All he could think about was the sweet taste of pear and lilac invading his senses and how her breasts kept rubbing against his chest.

“Not like this,” he whispered, well aware that he’d take her however she offered herself. Even here, in this place, surrounded by strangers that both watched and touched and tasted within inches of themselves.

“Stop talking,” Feyre replied, teeth grazing his bottom lip. Who was he to argue with her? After everything they’d been through and everything they’d seen, didn’t they deserve a chance to relax? To enjoy themselves after what felt like months of non-stop fighting and walking and faerie politics. He wasn’t convinced they’d survive, and worse still, was his fear that when it was over, she’d want nothing to do with him again.

He’d see her in the village, pass by without any recognition in her eyes. She’d find some other man, one who suited her better, and Rhys would spend the rest of his life like his father—mourning a woman he’d lost and punishing everyone around him for his misery.

His arm was wrapped around her waist, free hand gripping her hair tight enough he could feel the tension on her scalp. She couldn’t leave him. He simply wouldn’t allow it.

Their mouths collided in a symphony of pent-up need. Rhys groaned at the taste of her, sweet and heady just the way he remembered. Feyre was voracious, untethered from whatever restraint typically bound her. Raking her nails through his hair, Feyre gripped him just as tightly as he held her, holding him in place with each rough, frantic kiss.

They weren’t the only ones, though they were rapidly becoming one of the few left with their clothes on. Rhys was vaguely aware of what was happening around him, just as he was aware that he was still dressed even when he didn’t want to be.

Feyre, either, it seemed, given that she reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head without a second thought. Rhys stared, momentarily blinded by her undergarments which she quickly removed as well. Feyre was there, in his arms, without a shirt. Rhys didn’t know how to act—sure, he’d seen other women without their clothes on.

He’d never seen this woman without a shirt, though. And right then, he may as well have never seen a pair of breasts in his life. They were perfect, deserving of poetry sonnets, of portraits hung in the palaces of kings, of the sort of worship he would never master. That didn’t stop him from walking six steps to the left toward an elevated platform where the High Lords throne sat. Helion was otherwise occupied by two males and a female perched rather neatly atop his face.

Rhys was jealous of the scene—he wanted Feyre on his face, too. He’d take whatever he could get, and right then what he’d managed was setting her atop the purple cushioned seat so he could fall to his knees before her as nothing more than her eager supplicant.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, chest flushed as it rose and fell rapidly. Feyre’s eyes, usually a pretty, starlit blue, were so dark they seemed black to him.

“What I should have done the day I met you,” he replied, well aware he had no authority to make her a princess anywhere but in his own life. Maybe that was enough? Worshiping only at her altar, restructuring his worldview so she was the most central star illuminating his otherwise dreary world.

It was a simple thing to unlace her boots and toss them behind him. Running his hands up her thighs, Rhys swore he felt heat emanating from just between. Maybe it was wishful thinking–he wouldn’t know until he got his hands and face between them. He hated those well-made pants, hated the way she knotted the laces at the waistband and how clumsy his large fingers felt trying to undo the knot. Feyre merely watched, tugging at her braided hair as if she were nervous.

He managed to undo the laces, relieved when she lifted her hips to help him shimmy her out of them. There she was, wholly naked, perched atop that throne with flushed cheeks and bitten lips. He didn’t know what to do, suddenly, his mind clouded by desire and indecision. What if she didn’t like whatever he did? What if she woke in the morning and changed her mind?

What if you overthink this and never get another change?

Rhys leaned up on his aching knees, ignoring his own discomfort to kiss her again.

And again.

He forgot he was wedged between her legs, so caught up in the taste of her mouth and how good her tongue felt stroking his own. He needed nothing more, he thought. Rhys’ mind couldn’t stay focused on his long term goals. Kissing her felt good and that was all that mattered. He had time, besides. They didn’t need to go anywhere else. There was no rush to the act, no great hurry. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he felt that wasn’t quite true.

He’d worry about it later. How often was the woman of his dreams splayed out naked before him? Rhys pulled away, breathless and desperate. Ignoring his aching cock rubbing against his own trousers, which suddenly felt uncomfortably tight. His indecision left him the moment his fingers grazed her exposed navel, tracing a few errant freckles dotted along her ribcage.

His hands found her breasts, teasing the peaked nipple with the rough padding of his thumbs. Feyre arched her neck upward, eyes fluttering shut. She liked that. Rhys felt the way a dog must when praised by its master—all he wanted was to please her. It felt instinctual, like his purpose and reasoning for being. Rhys dared to lower his mouth, taking that same nipple into his mouth. Feyre cried out softly, a mere whisper of pleasure that ignited an inferno within him. He forgot himself, trying to elicit that sound again. While his tongue worked, making promises he fully intended to keep, his fingers began to push apart her legs.

It was curiosity, truly, that made him want to touch her. He wanted to know if she was half as aroused as he was—if she felt the same way. Feyre was so guarded, so careful with her emotions and Rhys never quite knew where he stood with her. Her body wouldn’t lie, though—if she was aroused, he’d know.

Gliding his fingers through her cunt, he found a mess. He could have wept at how wet she was, how easily he slid right into her. Rhys wanted to abandon all logic, replace his fingers, and fuck her until the two of them passed out in a heap of sweaty limbs.

Maybe just a taste, he reasoned to himself. That was all he needed. It was a pretty lie bouncing around his skull, and the realization he’d lied to himself, however trivial, pulled him back to reality for just a moment.

The throne room had devolved into a mass of writhing bodies performing every sexual act imaginable. Twisting to look behind him, Rhys’ mouth fell open at the sight of all those entangled limbs. Never in his life had he seen anything like what was happening before him, the pure bacchanalian display momentarily stunning him.

He was supposed to be ending this—he remembered, now. The incense was still burning, still close enough that he could simply rise back to his feet and extinguish it. It would be so easy, too—but Rhys lacked the willpower. His mistake was looking back at Feyre, legs draped over each arm of the throne, displaying the prettiest cunt he’d ever seen.

Was he supposed to tell her no? Rhys would rather be trapped by the curse forever than have her think he was rejecting her. It wasn’t going anywhere, he repeated to himself as he trailed his tongue down the flat plain of her stomach. He’d already forgotten what it was—but he trusted he’d remember later—when it mattered.

All that mattered to him then was the woman in front of him. Something was happening to him—something that had never happened before. Warmth flooded down to his very marrow, his chest tight as he struggled to draw breath. He glanced up at Feyre and her midnight dark eyes and wondered if she knew what this feeling was.

He could guess, but if he sat back to untangle it, he’d ruin everything. She didn’t want to hear it—Rhys knew her well enough to know the unspoken truth between them, that there was only so much Feyre could handle at any given time. There, vulnerable and naked, eyes pleading with him to finish what they’d begun, Rhys didn’t dare say a word.

He merely pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, the realization clanging like a bell in his head.

I’m in love with you.

Two courts, he reminded himself, kissing the other leg while holding her gaze. They’d figure out how to undo the curse in Day, and move on to Night, and then…and then they’d be free. Forever changed by what they’d seen and lived through, bonded and connected just as surely as any chain between them, only this one seemed to be wrapped around his heart rather than his wrist. He needed her, and he didn’t believe she didn’t need him, even if she thought she could rely only on herself.

She’d gone to the ends of the earth for her sisters, had risked life and liberty to see them unshackled from whatever spell housed them. Rhys simply meant to be that for her. He’d make the same journey to save her, would give up everything for her if she asked. Already, on his knees before her, his queen, his goddess, his northernmost star, Rhys would have done anything she asked of him.

And more.

He was close to reciting poetry, which seemed a shame given Rhys didn’t know any poetry. He’d studied it, once, but he’d been too busy screwing around with his friends and his sword to commit any of it to memory. What a waste, he thought, gaze slipping to the wet, pink cunt before him. Feyre’s body deserved at least a ballad at the very least. A sonnet or two about her perfect form. Surely someone must have.

He’d kill them.

Feyre raked her fingers through his hair, pushing at his face gently, though he wished she’d be rough. Tell him what to do—that was her way, after all. It seemed uncharacteristic of her to leave the decision in his hands when Rhys had come to enjoy being bossed around by a woman not half his weight or height. Rhys smothered a smile and finished what Feyre had started.

It was magic moving them, and magic that made her taste like some sort of elixir that granted immortality. Rhys couldn’t stifle the moan that rose up threw his throat and seemed to echo louder than the music around them. Fuck. Was it just anticipation, or something else? He didn’t know—didn’t care. His tongue found her again, licking slowly up the length of her and back down. Feyre’s hair was falling from his clasp, longer than he remembered as the long, golden brown strands framed her flushed face. She seemed otherworldly to him, shimmering with the same need that he felt bubbling in his blood.

Rhys forgot how his knees were aching, the cold marble seeping through his trousers to lodge itself against his spine. For all he knew, they were floating in some ethereal plane, the only two people left in the world. This was what he’d been born to do, and it would take the very gods themselves to pull him off her.

Or Feyre herself.

She surged forward, pushing him back without any care or concern for his comfort. Rhys grinned, landing flat on his back not far from a writhing group of women moaning and touching in a display that ought to have fascinated him. Feyre, however, climbed atop him, straddling his waist with a sly smile on his face.

“You look tired,” she all but purred, pulling at his shirt. He was quick to help her, tossing it somewhere in the room before both her fingers and his went scrambling for the clasps on his trousers. It was erotic to watch her undo them, even as he gracelessly kicked himself out of his boots. She peered down at him, running her hand over his stomach with that same smile that made him feel out of his mind with lust.

“I wasn’t done,” he complained, afraid she was going to try and repay the favor. “I need you to come on my tongue.”

Feyre blinked, digesting his words before color stole over her chest and up her neck. Was this what embarrassed her? Absurd. Rhys reached for her before she could squirm away and with relatively little effort, positioned her over his face. Finally, a warrior's death, he thought to himself. With both arms wrapped around her to keep her from pulling away, Rhys went back to the feasting from before. She was dripping wet, making a mess of his face, and Rhys had never been happier.

He’d just assumed she’d ride his face—that was what he wanted, anyway. Her hips rolled over him as she sighed breathlessly just before she shifted. Rhys held tightener before his back arched off the cool, marble floor, just in time to realize Feyre was only readjusting so she could take his cock in her mouth.

Fuck.

The memory of his task slipped back to the forefront of his mind at the same time her soft tongue slid down the length of him. Who cared anymore? Rhys didn’t hate the fae like he once had, but right then, he didn’t care if they suffered under the same subjugation he’d promised to unravel. All he cared about was Feyre spread out over his face while she sucked him. Nothing else was important—nothing else mattered.

Rhys had time, for once, to do everything he wanted. It was tempting to lap at her frantically, to draw her upward just to prove he could, to know what she sounded like when she came. He had to force himself to slow down, to temper his excitement with the reminder that he had time. They had nowhere to be and nothing important to do.

That lasted for all of ten seconds. Feyre gagged as she tried to take more than half of him, the sound shooting straight to his balls. Forced to clench his cheeks to keep from coming prematurely, and desperate from excitement, Rhys redoubled his efforts over her cunt, tongue swirling and teasing her clit until Feyre’s rhythm faltered. Bolstered by his success and drunk off the knowledge she wanted him, Rhys continued licking and sucking at her clit until Feyre screamed. Her legs clamped around his head, keeping him in place while preventing him from taking a full breath of air. Rhys simply rode it out while taking her through her orgasm without stopping.

Feyre fell forward, cheek pressed to his thigh. “It’s not enough,” she moaned, echoing his own thoughts. Scrambling off him, Feyre tugged at his arm to pull him to his feet. He did as she demanded, wishing for some of his usual eloquence. He wanted to tell her he felt the same way, that his blood was thudding painfully in his chest.

“It’s magic,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. Rhys’s heart sank, his mind once again returning to the task at hand. She was looking at him, but he turned to look at the bowl of incense. He didn’t want to destroy it—was it so bad to be trapped here like this? Together?

It wasn’t real. Rhys found his pants laying in a heap and grabbed them as she tried to reach for his arm and pull him back.

It’s magic, it’s magic, it’s magic.

Not like this.

It was agony to leave here standing there, to feel her eyes burning against his back. Worse to pull those trousers over his raging erection while his blood thrummed, beating in time with her own heart. Rhys knew how he felt—the spell merely enhanced what was already there. Did she feel it? Or was she merely trapped? The thought ate at him, ravaging him until his heart felt like a ruined wasteland.

It was easy to get to the bowl of incense, and easier still to raise it over his head before throwing it to the ground. The little flame extinguished as the pottery shattered irrevocably, spilling sweetly scented oil all over his bare feet. The moaning and sounds of copulating slowed to halt as the music came to a grinding halt.

Rhys turned to find those once writhing masses slowly untangling themselves, blinking as though waking from a dream. Feyre was scrambling for something—his shirt, he realized, which engulfed her in the stained white fabric. She wasn’t looking at him, though her cheeks still bore the tell-tale flush.

No, Feyre was looking at a very naked Helion. “Lucien,” she said, the only person who spoke at that moment.

“Go,” Helion ordered and just like that, Feyre raced out of the room, leaving Rhys standing there feeling like a fool. She had his shirt, so Rhys couldn’t fully dress though it was better than Helion who didn’t seem to care at all. Rhys supposed if he looked as good as Helion did without clothes on, he’d strut around, too.

“Fifty years,” Helion said as Rhys joined him, Feyre’s clothes and their shoes all heaped in his arms. “I’ll need about that long to recover.”

“At least it wasn’t a dragon,” Rhys heard himself saying, barely aware of the conversation at all. He could still taste Feyre in his throat, could still feel the weight of her on his body. He would have liked those fifty years—nobility was for those with a moral sense of righteousness.

He simply didn’t want her to hate him.

Helion put a hand on Rhys’ bare shoulder, golden eyes filled with nothing but a mixture of relief and sadness. “I owe you everything. Tell me how I can repay you.”

“A room?” Rhys asked, at a loss for what this man could give him. All he wanted had left the room, another man’s name on her lips. For all he knew, Feyre loved that man, had been thinking only of him while Rhys touched her. Jealousy was an ugly emotion and as Helion walked him through the warm, sprawling palace, all Rhys could think about was Lucien.

Who was he? Why did she care? He remembered Cassian mentioning Lucien, the memory returning in a haze. Lucien was a faerie prince. How did he compete with that? Everyone they’d met had been impossibly beautiful and powerful, and for all he knew, Feyre had been silently trying to free the prince alongside her sisters.

Feyre was nowhere to be found. Helion promised to tell Feyre where he was when he saw her next, his face unreadable as he took one last look at Rhys before closing the door. Rhys wanted to smash the room to pieces. Petulantly, he wanted to leave Feyre to finish the task on her own. The thought of abandoning her made his chest ache and water prick at the corners of his eyes.

So she loved another man. That didn’t mean he didn’t still love her. He was simply disappointed that she might not want him back—that despite what he’d told himself in that throne room, he had been hoping she returned his feelings.

Rhys took time to bathe, pleased to find clothes laid out on the bed for him. He wasn’t alone, though Cassian was hardly the company he wanted right then. Sprawled out on his bed casually, his leathered armor swapped out for the same loose pants and shirt that Rhys had been given, Cassian seemed as irreverent as usual.

“Want to get a drink?”

“Make it a double,” Rhys said, returning the smile.

“I know just the place. This whole palace reeks,” Cassian said, wrinkling his nose. It was easy to like Cassian, perhaps because he seemed so very human—minus the wings on his back. His ears were rounded, his eyes a very normal hazel, and his face looked as if it belonged to a regular man rather than an immortal creature capable of ripping him apart with their bare hands. He didn’t doubt Cassian could if he wanted to. The glowing siphons on his person certainly suggested he commanded some sort of magic—Feyre had explained it all to him once, but Rhys didn’t remember.

He didn’t want to think about Feyre at the moment.

Cassian let Rhys dress, pointedly turning his back without leaving the room. “Where’s Fey?” he asked casually.

“With Lucien,” Rhys spat, his hatred irrational.

Cassian chuckled. “I’d say we should rescue her, but maybe she deserves whatever hell he’s currently giving her.”

Rhys bristled. “Why would he give her anything but his gratitude? She just rescued him—”

“You don’t know Lucien, but he can be…difficult…at times,” Cassian replied, running a hand through his shoulder length hair.

“How do they know each other?”

“I’ll let Feyre tell that story if she wants. Lucien hates humans, and well…Feyre doesn’t, obviously. So their friendship has always been interesting.”

Friendship. “Does she see him often?”

“Too often, I think, given he’s mated to her sister. I’m sure he’s waging war on Elain’s behalf, pissed they’ve been separated for so long.”

The knot that had settled in his stomach seemed to untangle. “Mated?”

“Married,” Cassian amended, tucking his wings tight against his back. “It's a similar principle.”

“Marriage implies choice,” Rhys heard himself saying, a frown stretched over his lips. “What if your mate wants to leave you?”

True anger seemed to shine on Cassian’s face before he banished it with a shake of his head. “You don’t understand. It’s…she’s half my soul. I could no sooner leave her than I could leave my own body.”

“Surely not all matches are happy.” It didn’t seem possible that fate could select people who got along flawlessly and created nothing but incandescently, happy pairs.

“They’re not,” Cassian agreed. “There are plenty of unhappy pairs—you have a choice to accept the bond. Lucien and Elain had a hard time of it—”

“Because he hates humans?” Rhys asked, piecing Feyre’s life together

Cassian chuckled. “Among other things. Lucien can be a real, arrogant bastard.”

“Feyre doesn’t have a mate?” Rhys asked suddenly, uninterested in the Day Court faerie prince and his love life. He recalled slaying Tamlin and the relationship that had existed between them. Had she dragged him into this to kill a mate she didn’t want?

“I’m sure she does,” Cassian replied as he stared studiously ahead. “Everyone does—even humans.”

Cassian didn’t need to explain to Rhys that if he had a mate, he wasn’t going to feel it the way the fae could. Feyre, too, would never know if he was hers. Would she always wonder given her sister's circumstances? Would it be enough?

Could he be enough? Feyre didn’t seem to hold any love for the culture or people, even if somehow she knew all of them by name. Maybe, once it was all done and she was certain of her sister's safety, she’d want a little peace. He could give her that. Hells, if she wanted he’d live in this land though preferably far from the sprawling palaces of the High Lords.

Rhys had two drinks with Cassian down in the emptied city—where was everyone? The winged male seemed in high spirits, grinning and laughing as he told story after story about battles Rhys wished he could have seen. He was jealous of Cassian’s long life and the things he’d seen, of the things he’d do before it was all over.

He had to half carry Cassian back to the palace, leaving him in a patch of grass beneath an olive tree. “This is perfect,” Cassian had mumbled, snoring before Rhys had taken more than three steps. Maybe he should have let himself get obliterated, too, but Rhys was hoping to talk to Feyre. He thought he might die if she decided she wanted to pretend nothing had happened between them.

He just needed to tell her how he felt, he decided. Fumbling for a light switch in the room he’d been given, Rhys decided he’d just tell her he was in love with her. He’d— “Feyre?”

He was drunker than he thought, because surely that wasn’t his Feyre, kneeling on the end of his bed in a nightdress so sheer, she may as well be wearing nothing at all. Her hair was unbound, the ends curling ever so slightly as they hung over her shoulders

Rhys turned to look over his shoulder, back down the dark hall he’d come from. Rubbing his eyes, he turned back to his room, certain he’d be alone.

She was still there, cheeks red, lips pink and swollen. Rhys closed the door softly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, trying to project calm when his insides were turning over.

“Can you?” she replied, her sultry tone settling at the base of his cock. He hadn’t forgotten that she’d had her mouth on it, though right then his mouth began to replay the way her tongue had felt, how her lips had wrapped themselves around him. His stomach tightened from excitement. Please.

He shrugged. “Not really.”

Feyre uncurled her legs from beneath her body, bare toes touching the floor as she straightened herself. The little nightdress she wore was a joke—he could have shredded the delicate cloth with his teeth if he so chose to. And gods, did Rhys want to rip it ribbons with his teeth. Feyre was in charge, though, so he remained as still as he could manage while she sauntered forward. His eyes fell to the swing of her hips, visible beneath the cloth. The neckline scooped low enough that he could see the swell of her breasts while the hem just shimmed the uppermost part of her thighs.

He was dreaming. This wasn’t real. It was a fantasy.

“Neither can I,” she told him, pulling him closer by the laces on his trousers. Rhys had to remind himself to breathe.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, afraid he might ruin everything with that question. “Are you well?”

“I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel it, too,” she said, deftly pulling the strings until they were unknotted. “That I don’t want you.”

That may have been the most erotic thing that had happened to him all day. Rhys froze as she pushed his pants to his ankles, revealing his already rigid cock. “I didn’t get to finish,” she told him, sliding to her knees before him. Her fingertips skimmed over his thighs, drawing a shiver up his spine.

“Feyre,” he whispered, unsure what he planned to say. She ignored him, licking his shaft from root to tip while Rhys had to employ every ounce of his will to keep from falling to the ground in a boneless heap. His mind barely worked, though he had enough thought to gather up her hair and pull it off her face.

Feyre took him into his mouth, eyes pinned to his face. All the air available to him punched out of his lungs, leaving him gaping like a fish. He had to remind himself to take a breath, that passing out in front of her was unlikely to make her want to touch him again.

“You don’t—” The next slide of her mouth silenced him. She didn’t have to do this, but why was he trying to stop her? He wanted this so badly it made his teeth ache. Rhys wasn’t above begging, either. If she stopped, he thought he might die. He’d take her however he could get, though he was hoping he might manage to take a little more from her.

That he could give her something, too. Rhys wanted to take her out of her clothes, lay her out, and show her what he felt. He didn’t move, drinking her in as he fisted the soft strands of her hair between his trembling fingers. Right then, Rhys would have given anything for faerie powers—if only to tell her, mind to mind, all the things he wanted to do to her.

He groaned instead, spreading his legs wider as she worked him slowly. It was exquisite—better than anything he’d ever felt in his life. If he died right then, he could have died satisfied with his life. He couldn’t pretend Feyre on her knees before him didn’t please him immensely, especially after everything they’d shared together.

He wondered what she’d make of this if he could go back to when they met and smugly inform her that one day, she’d willingly take his cock in her mouth. Likely nothing pleasant—something that had an arrow pointed directly at his cock. He would have deserved it, too.

Release built along his spine, his arousal and desperation pushing him toward the edge far quicker than he wanted. He needed to draw things out—he needed to be inside her. Feyre moaned around his cock, convincing him she needed the same thing. Rhys reached for her and Ferye sprang up with far more athleticism than Rhys thought he possessed—his knees would never allowed for him to come up so quickly.

Their mouths collided, frenzied and hungry and oh, it felt good to know she felt the way he did. Rhys was unspooled and undone, desperate and dizzy as he tried to both get that stupid night dress over her head and walk toward the bed.

He’d once considered himself graceful, though not anymore. They collapsed in a heap of elbows and half-discarded clothes, unwilling to stop what they were doing for even a moment, and thank the gods for that. She was undressing him with clumsy fingers, though somehow managed to get him out of his shirt before he gave up and did what he’d wanted from the start—Rhys ripped the night dress from neck to hem in one solid, fluid move.

Gripping his waist with her thighs, Feyre flipped him to his back, fingernails digging in his bare chest. She was naked again, and oh, Rhys wished he could draw. He wanted to keep an image of her straddling him in his pocket, folded up for his eyes only. Maybe he’d ask when she wasn’t shimming down his body so she could rub her slick cunt against his throbbing cock.

“Fuck,” he whispered, the word pushed from his gut with the force of a punch. “Feyre, please.”

“Please, what?” she practically purred in response. Gods above and the hells below, she would be the cause of his early demise.

She just barely had the upper hand. Reaching for her waist, Rhys flipped her to her back so her hair became a halo around her beautiful face. “Please, Feyre, darling,” he breathed, pressing his mouth to the hollow of her neck, “make a mess of my cock.”

She exhaled, her eyes rolling upward which was all the permission Rhys needed. He didn’t wait, sliding himself wholly into her body while she was still catching her breath. Her eyes flew open, lips parting and in a moment of panic, Rhys kissed her. He’d just assumed he wasn’t her first, given how he’d found her and her general lack of concern regarding her nudity.

“Did I—”

“Big,” she managed, tightening herself around him. Pure, masculine pride warmed his gut, propelling him forward for that first, perfect thrust.

“Tell me you want this. That you want me,” he whispered, burying his face in her neck.

“I want you,” she replied, pulling at his hair so he had to face her. “I want this.”

Gods, he could have come from those words alone. Rhys had to squeeze his ass tight to keep himself from doing so, overwhelmed by the rush of emotion. He wanted to tell her everything—the things and people he loved tended to be taken from him. Or they left him, physically or emotionally. It was easier to be guarded, to place walls around his heart and play the irreverent rake.

There was risk to vulnerability. To admit to Feyre that he both wanted and needed her. It was on the tip of his tongue, telling her that he loved her, too. Rhys wanted to—he was afraid. So afraid she didn’t feel the same, that this was some fleeting amusement, a passing fancy. Better to just take what he could get for now. If that was all she ever gave him, that was better than nothing at all. Far more preferable than a life without knowing her. A life where they turned back to strangers.

“Come back to me,” Feyre whispered, pulling him from his thoughts. The blue of her eyes centered him, settling his fears. They were here, now, and that was enough. Pumping his hips, Rhys returned to kissing her, albeit messily given he was also trying to find her clit with his clumsy fingers.

He was hanging by a thread, just barely keeping himself together. Feyre moaned when he found what he was looking for, digging her nails into his shoulder while meeting him thrust for thrust. He could feel her own need, how she convulsed around him as her own kissing became slower, less focused.

“That’s it,” he whispered, picking up the pace. He was going to finish and she wouldn’t and what then? He simply no longer had control of his body—something deep in his gut was unspooling like thread, winding its way through him as it demanded more, more, more. He couldn’t stop himself even if he’d wanted to.

There was no skill to Feyre coming mere moments before he had—only luck. He wasn’t discounting it, grateful all the same as Rhys released himself with a guttural whimper that seemed to ignite the room in blinding starlight. There was none—just the same darkness, the same bed, the same ceiling and floor.

Heart pounding, Rhys was certain things must have changed. He felt changed, and so the rest of the world must be, too. Feyre reached for him, kissing one cheek, and then the other, before her fingers skimmed over his jaw.

“You were perfect,” he told her, catching the way her eyes widened. She blinked, eyes strangely glassy.

“You’ve always been perfect,” he added, just because he thought maybe she needed to hear someone tell her that. I love you! His mind screamed, though his lips refused to give them voice.

“So are you, Rhys,” she replied, pulling him back toward her. He let her push him to his back, making a mess of his abdomen as she slung her leg over his hips. “And I’m not done with you. Not yet.”

Not ever, he hoped.

#feysand

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honeyncherry · 3 days ago

Text

Through the Looking Glass - One

Rafe Cameron x Reader

content: drinking, tension (rafe likes to look at you)

word count: 6k

prologue

The last time you set foot in a new school, you were nine years old. Your father had sent you off to a prestigious boarding school halfway across the country. Though it wasn’t a school, not really. It was more like a factory, cold and unyielding, designed to shape children from high-profile government families into the next generation of leaders and operatives. The halls were filled with future politicians, intelligence agents, and power brokers. Each was more intense, more cutthroat, and more determined than the last.

Breaks were a luxury you couldn’t afford. The instructors were strict to the point of being merciless, expecting perfection and punishing anything less. The curriculum was relentless, grinding you down and reshaping you into something sharp and efficient. There were no sleepovers or giggling with friends, no carefree afternoons in the park. Just drills, evaluations, and endless expectations. You learned quickly how to suppress your emotions, to quiet the part of you that wanted to cry or rebel.

You became what they wanted: disciplined, composed, and ready to take orders. But walking onto the University of North Carolina’s campus felt like stepping into another universe.

The differences were staggering, almost surreal. Where the boarding school had been rigid and sterile, UNC was alive, teeming with energy and freedom. Some students sprawled out on blankets under monstrous oak trees, laughing and playing games of spikeball in the sunshine, while others sat in their own study groups more focused on gossiping about who was interested in whom than working on their essays.

The buildings, their brick facades draped in ivy, stood proud yet inviting, as though welcoming you into a new chapter of your life. It was a world you’d only ever viewed from a distance, in movies or fleeting glimpses during missions. It felt chaotic, free, and utterly alien to you.

UNC wasn’t just one of the country’s top business schools; it was also renowned for its vibrant social scene. Greek Row was the epicenter of it all, alive with parties that raged late into the night, music spilling into the streets. On game days, tailgates transformed the campus into a sprawling festival, with canopies, kegs, and mini grills crowding every open space. Each weekend brought something new to celebrate, another excuse to gather and let loose. It was a world you could barely imagine fitting into, let alone navigating by yourself.

But you didn’t have to imagine. You’d been preparing for this moment for nearly a year. From the second the case file landed on your desk, you’d immersed yourself in everything UNC had to offer. You memorized its culture, its traditions, and even its most recent scandals. You knew which bars on Franklin Street were the most popular on Thursday nights, which fraternity houses held the most exclusive parties, and which sororities had the most influence. You even learned the best shortcuts through campus, routes that would let you avoid campus police or slip away unnoticed.

Your apartment was a short ten-minute walk from the heart of campus. On the surface, it seemed ordinary: a modest brick complex tucked away on a quiet, tree-lined street. But as you approached, the details stood out. The doorman, Johnny, was the first clue. He wasn’t just a friendly face stationed at the entrance — he was part of the agency, placed there to keep an eye on you. Whether his presence was meant to protect you or monitor you was unclear, but it didn’t matter. Either way, it offered a small sense of security in an otherwise unsettling situation.

Johnny greeted you with a polite nod as you entered, his expression neutral. You returned the gesture with a tight smile, the kind that didn’t reach your eyes. It wasn’t personal; you simply couldn’t afford to let your guard down. Not here. Not yet.

The elevator ride to the third floor was quiet, the soft hum of the machinery filling the space. When the doors slid open, you stepped into a hallway lined with neutral-toned carpeting and soft overhead lighting. Your apartment was at the end of the hall. The space was small but well-appointed, with sleek, modern furniture, warm lighting, and a fully stocked kitchen. It looked nothing like the cramped dorms you’d read about in your research, where freshmen shared tiny rooms and whispered secrets late into the night.

You set your bag down just inside the door, taking a moment to absorb your surroundings. This was it. Your new life. For the next semester you wouldn’t be the girl forged in the cold, unyielding halls of your past. You’d become a confident, ambitious, college girl who blended seamlessly into this bright, chaotic world.

The girl who walked into this apartment was no longer a government agent’s daughter or a product of a childhood spent in the shadows of high-stakes operations. She was a girl who went to all the football games and studied on the quad. Someone who danced under neon lights at Sigma Chi parties and laughed too loudly with friends in the library.

At least, that’s who you needed to be.

You crossed the room and pulled open the blinds, letting the golden light of the setting sun flood the space. From here, you could see the edges of campus. Students moved in clusters, their voices carrying faintly through the evening air. Somewhere out there, Rafe Cameron was waiting.

You’d seen his face a hundred times in the photos tucked inside his dossier. From the cocky smirk, the piercing blue eyes, the sleek buzzed blonde hair, it was all etched into your memory. You knew his routines, his weaknesses, his tells. You’d studied him like a final exam, preparing for the moment you’d meet him in person. Yet, as you stared out at the campus, a knot of unease twisted in your stomach.

Because no amount of training could prepare you for what came next. This wasn’t just another assignment you sat on the sidelines of, watching every move, critiquing every wrong step. It was your very own assignment. The decade long case you were meant to crack. And this was Rafe Cameron, the key to the entire operation.

You let out a slow breath, your fingers gripping the edge of the windowsill. The world outside seemed so vibrant, so full of life, but you knew better than to get swept up in it. This wasn’t about fun or freedom. It was about the mission. The stakes were too high to let anything distract you.

You turned away from the window, the sound of your sandals clicking softly against the polished wood floors as you moved back toward your bag. Somewhere deep inside, a flicker of doubt tried to take hold, but you pushed it down. You couldn’t afford doubt.

Brooke O’Brien was UNC’s very own Barbie doll. The kind of girl who seemed almost too perfect, her presence glowing with an effortless charisma that felt more polished than natural. Maybe it was her blonde curls and doll-like hazel eyes, or the way she lit up every room she entered with an energy that was both magnetic and overwhelming. Either way, she was someone people both admired and envied in equal measure.

To you, Brooke was… a lot. Too much, maybe. But that didn’t matter. She was your way in. If there was one person you needed to befriend, it was Brooke O’Brien.

When you saw her crossing the quad toward you, waving enthusiastically, you braced yourself. Her dazzling smile and quick pace made it seem like nothing could stop her.

“Wow!” she called out, her voice ringing through the crowd. “It’s so great to finally meet you!”

Before you could react, she had thrown her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. Caught off guard, you hesitated for only a moment before hugging her back. If she was this excited, then so were you. Or at least, that’s what you had to make her believe.

“Totally,” you said, pulling back with your best gleaming smile. “Everyone here already seems so friendly.”

Brooke’s laugh was light and airy, the kind of laugh that made you want to laugh along even if you didn’t know what was funny. “Oh, honey, you don’t even know! UNC is, like, the friendliest place on Earth. You’re going to love it here, I promise.”

She slipped her arm through yours without hesitation, as though you’d been best friends for years, and began guiding you across the quad. Her energy was infectious, and you found yourself grateful for how easy she made it to keep up the act.

“So,” she said, turning her head to study you, “first impressions? Be honest.”

“It’s... a lot,” you admitted, your gaze sweeping over the bustling campus. “But in a good way.”

Brooke beamed. “That’s what I like to hear! College is supposed to be a lot. It’s all about finding yourself, you know? And trust me, UNC is the perfect place for that.”

You smiled politely, wondering if the line about "finding yourself" was something she said to everyone or if she actually believed it. Still, it was hard not to be drawn in by her enthusiasm.

As she gestured toward a row of buildings, pointing out the arts building and student union, she glanced at you curiously. “So, tell me about your last school. What was it like?”

The question was casual, but your stomach tightened all the same. You’d been preparing for this, practicing your answers until they felt natural, but it was still unnerving to hear it aloud. “Oh, it was... fine,” you said with a small shrug. “A lot smaller than this. Not as lively.”

Brooke tilted her head, her curls bouncing slightly. “Really? Where’d you go again?”

“Uh, Hawthorne College,” you said, dropping the name of the small liberal arts school the agency had assigned to your cover story. “It was nice, but it didn’t really feel like the right fit.”

Brooke nodded knowingly. “Oh, I totally get that. Sometimes you just need a fresh start, you know? That’s what I love about UNC — it’s, like, impossible not to find your people here.”

You nodded along, grateful that she didn’t press further. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

“You will,” Brooke said firmly, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “College is all about reinventing yourself. I mean, when I got here, I was, like, so shy. Couldn’t even raise my hand in class without turning bright red.”

You raise an eyebrow, struggling to imagine Brooke as anything less than radiant and self-assured. “Really?”

“Okay, maybe not that shy,” she admits with a laugh. “But still, this college changes you. In the best way. You’ll see.”

As she leads you through the quad, Brooke chats non-stop, pointing out landmarks and weaving in bits of campus gossip like it’s second nature. You nod along, doing your best to look captivated while mentally filing away the information that might actually be useful.

Brooke’s warmth was disarming, a sharp contrast to the cold precision you’d been trained to embody since becoming a pre-teen. For a moment, you wondered if it was genuine or if everyone here wore their own kind of mask. Either way, letting your guard down wasn’t an option, not even with the sweet and charming Brooke O’Brien. Not with so much riding on this.

“That’s the library,” Brooke says, gesturing toward an imposing brick building covered in ivy. “You’ll spend way too much time there during finals. Oh, and over there—” she points to a cluster of tables shaded by oak trees, “—that’s where the serious study groups hang out. They’re, like, terrifyingly intense. But if you ever need help with a project, that’s the place to go.”

You nod, making a mental note. “Good to know.”

Brooke stops suddenly, spinning to face you with wide eyes. “Wait! I have to introduce you to my favorite place on campus.”

Without waiting for a response, she grabs your hand and pulls you toward a small café tucked into the corner of the quad. The smell of freshly brewed coffee hits you as soon as you step inside, and you can’t help but feel a small pang of appreciation. For all her energy, Brooke seems genuinely excited to share this with you.

“Isn’t it cute?” she gushes, gesturing toward the mismatched chairs and cozy lighting. “I swear, their iced caramel macchiatos are life-changing. And if you ever need a good place to study, this is it.”

“Noted,” you say, allowing a small smile to slip through. It’s hard not to truly warm up to her enthusiasm, even if you’re supposed to be keeping people at arm's length.

The two of you grab drinks before heading back outside, and as you settle onto a bench near the quad, Brooke leans in conspiratorially. “Okay, so now that you’ve got the basics, it’s time for the fun stuff.”

You tilt your head, feigning curiosity. “Oh?”

“My friends,” she says with a grin. “You’re going to love them. Well, most of them.”

She launched into a detailed rundown of her friend group as the two of you sat and enjoyed your drinks. You had to admit, the coffee rivaled anything you’d had in the city.

“Okay, so first there’s Maddie, she’s my best friend. She’s super sweet, but, like, don’t get on her bad side. She’ll smile while ripping you to shreds, and you won’t even realize it until it’s too late.”

You chuckled, making a mental note of Maddie’s name.

“Then there’s Sabrina,” Brooke continued. “She’s the fun one. She can make anyone dance, even if they swear they don’t dance. Seriously, she could probably convince a statue to do the Cupid Shuffle.”

You smiled, appreciating the way Brooke’s tone shifted slightly with each new person she described. It was obvious she genuinely cared about them.

“And then there’s Liam,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “He’s... complicated. Kind of a wild card, but in a good way. He’s always down for an adventure. Like, last week, he tried to convince us all to go skydiving. At midnight. I don’t even think that’s legal.”

Your brows lifted. “Sounds interesting.”

“Oh, he is,” Brooke said with a knowing grin. “But don’t worry. He’s harmless.” She hesitated for a moment, her expression shifting slightly. “And, um, Chase. We’ve been... talking. Kind of.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking up slightly. “Talking?”

“Okay, maybe more than talking,” Brooke admitted, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. “He’s cute, but, like, he can be so frustrating sometimes. He has this thing where he just disappears for days and then texts me like nothing happened. But whatever. It’s not serious.”

The slight edge in her voice suggested otherwise, but you didn’t press. “He sounds... nice?”

Brooke laughed, rolling her eyes. “He is. When he wants to be.” She paused for a moment, her expression shifting. “And then there’s Rafe.”

Your heartbeat quickened at the mention of his name, but you kept your face carefully neutral. “What’s he like?”

Brooke hesitated, as though searching for the right words. “He’s complicated too. Intense, definitely. But once you get to know him, he’s one of the most loyal people you’ll ever meet.”

She took a sip of her drink, her brows knitting together. “Lately, though, he’s been in a mood. Something about a girl he was seeing. But he won’t talk about it. Anyway, he invited everyone to a sports bar tonight, so maybe he’s trying to shake it off.”

You nodded, keeping your expression casual even as your thoughts raced. A girl? That wasn’t in the file. Who was she, and what did she mean to him?

Brooke’s face brightened again, and she reached out to squeeze your arm. “You should come! It’ll be fun, and you can meet everyone.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said, feigning reluctance. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Are you kidding?” Brooke laughed. “You’re not intruding. You’re with me now, and trust me, they’ll love you. Besides, I’ll pick you up, so you have no excuse.”

You let out a small laugh, unable to resist her enthusiasm. “Okay, fine. I’ll come.”

“Yay!” Brooke clapped her hands together. “This is going to be so much fun. Text me your address and I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.”

Later that evening, after carefully choosing an outfit, you stood by the window. The campus nightlife flickered to life below, a vibrant pulse that felt both foreign and inviting. When Brooke’s text came through, your breath caught for a moment before you grabbed your bag and headed down.

She waved excitedly as you approached, her pristine convertible parked at an angle, music thumping from the speakers like it was an extension of her energy.

You climbed into the passenger seat with a bright smile and as she pulled away, she launched into another flurry of conversation. This time, it was all about classes, professors, Chase, and her favorite spots on Franklin Street.

“I swear,” she said, shaking her head, “Professor Klein is the worst. Like, don’t even bother trying to win her over. Just turn in your essays on time and pray for a C.”

You laughed, relaxing slightly as Brooke’s chatter filled the car. For all her energy, there was something undeniably comforting about her. It was easy to see how she’d become the center of her friend group — and why she was exactly who you needed on your side.

When the sports bar came into view, its neon lights glowing against the night sky, Brooke turned to you with a grin. “Ready to meet the crew?”

You nodded, your stomach tightening with anticipation. “Let’s do it.”

The moment you stepped inside, the bar thrummed with life, a cacophony of laughter, clinking glasses, and thumping bass. The mingling scents of fried food and beer created a sensory overload that left you slightly off balance

This was nothing like the polished, controlled environments of stuffy dinners with your father and his colleagues. Here, the chaos was unfiltered: crop tops and cutoff shorts replaced formal evening wear, discount beer flowed from taps instead of martinis, and greasy nachos piled high replaced hors d'oeuvres served on silver platters.

Brooke led the way, weaving through the crowd like she’d done it a hundred times before, her confidence a beacon in the chaos. You followed closely, trying not to bump into too many shoulders as you glanced around, taking it all in. Groups of students laughed loudly, some leaning over the tables to shout above the music, others already swaying slightly from one too many drinks.

“Over here!” Brooke chirped, pointing toward a table in the corner where three people were already seated. As you got closer, you could make out two girls and a guy, all of them mid-conversation and laughing.

“This is them!” Brooke said, practically bouncing on her toes as she gestured to the group. “Guys, this is the girl I was telling you about.”

The girl with dark, pin-straight hair was the first to look up, her sharp look flicking over you before her lips curved into a welcoming smile. “Hey! I’m Sabrina. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” you said, returning the smile as she reached out for a quick handshake. Her grip was warm but firm, and she had this effortless confidence that instantly put you at ease.

The guy beside her leaned back in his chair, his grin easy and a little mischievous as he said, “I’m Liam. You must be the new girl Brooke’s been hyping up.”

You laughed lightly, glancing at Brooke. “I guess so.”

“Don’t worry,” Liam added, raising his beer. “If you can survive Brooke, you’ll fit right in.”

“Shut up, Liam,” Brooke said with a roll of her eyes, though her smile didn’t falter. “And this,” she added, gesturing toward the last girl at the table, “is Maddie.”

Maddie’s sharp gaze flicked over you, her crossed arms and measured tone making it clear she wasn’t quick to warm up. “Hey,” she said, her words as neutral as her expression.

“Hi,” you replied. Maddie didn’t smile, her silence sharper than words, and you couldn’t help but feel like she was sizing you up.

Brooke patted the seat beside her, breaking the moment. “Come on, sit! I’ll grab us drinks in a second.”

As you slid into the booth, the group’s chatter flowed easily around you. Sabrina asked about your classes, Liam cracked jokes that drew groans from Brooke, and even Maddie softened slightly, her dry humor slipping through now and then.

But as the night went on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something, or someone, was missing.

“Where’s Chase?” Brooke asked suddenly, leaning closer to Sabrina and Maddie.

Maddie smirked, tilting her head toward the bar. “Over there. He’s with Rafe.”

Your stomach tightened as you followed her eye line, scanning the crowd until your eyes found them. Chase was easy to spot, leaning against the counter, his grin wide and animated as he chatted with the bartender. He was exactly as you’d seen in the photos: open, carefree, the life of any conversation.

But the man beside him was a different story.

Rafe Cameron was the kind of person whose presence you felt before you saw him. His presence preceded him, tangible and charged, like the static before a storm. He stood at ease, resting his arms on the bartop, his sharp features caught in the dim light that carved shadows along his jawline. When his eyes found yours, it wasn’t a question, it was a statement: I see you.

The air shifted. The sounds of the bar faded into a dull hum. His intensity sent a ripple through you, one you couldn’t quite name. You hadn’t expected this — not from a man you’d studied for months, memorized through pages and pages of official documents. Yet here he was, impossibly real and entirely unsettling.

There was no smile, no casual acknowledgment, just a quiet intensity that felt like it was meant to see past every carefully constructed layer.

“He’s looking at you,” Brooke murmured, her voice low and tinged with amusement as she leaned in closer.

You blinked, breaking the moment as you turned to her. “Who?”

She smirked knowingly, her view flicking back toward the bar. “Rafe. I told you, he’s intense.”

Your pulse quickened as you stole another glance. Rafe was still angled toward you, though his focus had shifted momentarily to Chase, who was speaking beside him. He didn’t respond to whatever Chase had said, his attention half-turned as though occupied by something else entirely.

Brooke’s playful tone broke the spell and you turned your attention back to the table, willing yourself to focus. But even as you smiled and joined the group’s chatter, Rafe’s gaze lingered in your mind like an unfinished thought.

“Okay,” Sabrina said, breaking through your thoughts. “So, tell me… what’s your major?”

You blinked, grateful for the distraction as you turned toward her. “Communications,” you replied, the answer smooth and practiced. “I was studying it at my last school, so it made sense to stick with it here.”

“Smart choice,” Liam chimed in, resting his elbows on the table. “You could probably out-talk all of us, huh?”

“Definitely me,” Brooke interjected with a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lose an argument, Liam.”

“That’s because I don’t lose,” he said, lifting his beer in mock celebration.

“Oh, please,” Maddie cut in, her tone dry. “You lose all the time. You just don’t know it.”

The group laughed, and you found yourself smiling despite the underlying tension still buzzing in your chest. Sabrina drew closer, her curiosity apparent. “Why communications, though? What’s the endgame?”

You hesitated, the question catching you off guard. “I guess I like the idea of... connecting with people,” you said carefully. “Understanding how they think, how they move and work. How to utilize that to your advantage. It’s fascinating.”

Sabrina nodded, her smile genuine. “I get that. Honestly, it sounds way more interesting than my major. I’m stuck in econ.”

“Econ’s useful,” Liam said, shrugging. “You’ll be the one bailing us all out when we screw up our taxes.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what economics is,” Maddie muttered, though her lips twitched into a small smile.

The conversation flowed easily after that, with Sabrina asking about your transition to UNC and Liam tossing out lighthearted quips that kept the mood buoyant. Even Maddie seemed to loosen up a bit more, though her sharp watch still flicked toward you now and then, like she was assessing your place in the group.

Just as you were beginning to relax, you felt a shift in the air, subtle but undeniable. The energy at the table changed, the noise around you seeming to dim as two familiar figures approached. You glanced up instinctively, your breath catching as Rafe and Chase came into view.

Chase was the first to speak, his grin wide and easy as he set a tray of drinks on the table. “Miss us?”

“Finally!” Brooke said, clapping her hands together. “What took you so long?”

“The line’s insane,” Chase replied, sliding into the booth beside her. “Be grateful we didn’t give up and just grab water.”

Rafe didn’t say anything as he followed, his movements measured and calculated. He placed a glass in front of Maddie before taking the last empty seat across from you. The table suddenly felt smaller, the air thicker, as his presence settled over the group.

Brooke leaned into Chase, nudging him playfully. “So, are you just going to ignore our new friend, or...?”

Chase’s eyes flicked to you, his grin widening. “Oh, right. You’re the transfer, right? I’m Chase. Welcome to the chaos.”

“Thanks,” you introduced yourself, your voice steady despite the way your pulse had quickened again.

“And this,” Brooke said, gesturing to the man sitting across from you, “is Rafe.”

His name lingered in the air for a beat too long, the unspoken weight of it making your chest tighten. Rafe’s gaze met yours again, the intensity in vision eyes sharper now that he was closer. His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile, more of an acknowledgment, as he nodded once.

“Hi,” you managed, your voice softer than you intended.

“Hi,” he replied, his voice low and smooth, carrying an edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

The table filled with chatter as the others picked up where they’d left off, but you barely heard it. Rafe’s watch didn’t waver, fixed on you in a way that felt deliberately unnerving, as though he wanted you to squirm. It wasn’t hostile, but it wasn't welcoming either. It was something else entirely. A silent challenge, perhaps, or a test you weren’t sure how to pass.

“So,” Chase said, drawing your attention to him. “How are you liking UNC so far?”

“It’s... different,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “Bigger than my last school, for sure.”

“Better parties, too,” Liam added, raising his drink in mock toast.

“Oh, absolutely,” Chase agreed. “Stick with us, and you’ll see the best this place has to offer.”

“She’s already stuck with us,” Brooke interjected, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’ve claimed her.”

“Possessive much?” Maddie muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in her tone now.

The laughter at the table felt like a reprieve, a momentary distraction from the way Rafe’s presence filled every corner of your awareness. Even when you weren’t looking, you could feel his eyes on you.

As the conversation continued, you risked another glance at him. He was sitting back slightly, his arms crossed over his chest, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. When your eyes met, his brow arched just slightly, as if to say caught you.

You looked away quickly, your cheeks warming despite the chill in the air-conditioned room. The tension was almost unbearable.

“Another round?” Brooke suggested, breaking the moment as she reached for her empty glass.

“Yes, please,” Sabrina said. “And get me some fries while you’re at it.”

Brooke stood, tugging Chase up with her. “Come on, you’re helping.”

Chase groaned but followed, leaving the rest of you at the table. Liam immediately launched into a story about some party mishap the night before, pulling laughter from Maddie and Sabrina. Their energy was light and easy, but your focus drifted. The conversation faded into the background as a quiet tension hummed in the air.

You absently toyed with the straw in your drink, the condensation cool against your fingertips. It wasn’t the story keeping you distracted, it was a feeling, steady and insistent, like the faint pull of a current just beneath the surface.

Your eyes flicked toward Rafe, catching him mid-motion. He leaned forward in his seat, his fingers resting lightly around his glass. His expression was unreadable, but when his eyes met yours, something shifted. His expression shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly, like he was inviting you into a silent exchange you weren’t sure you were ready for.

Before you could think better of it, you asked, “so, does he always let her boss him around like that?” You nodded toward the bar, where Chase and Brooke were deep in conversation with each other.

Rafe’s lips curved faintly into something between a smirk and a smile. “Only when it’s easier than arguing.”

His voice was low, smooth, and somehow it cut through the noise of the bar as if it were meant just for you. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he added, “Besides, Brooke likes to think she’s in charge. No harm in letting her believe it.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “Generous of you.”

He tilted his head, studying you with a casualness that felt anything but. “And you? Do you let people boss you around, or are you the one calling the shots?”

The question caught you off guard, the weight of it settling in a way that felt heavier than the words themselves. You played it off with a shrug, your voice light as you said, “I guess it depends on who’s asking.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, his regard was steady and unflinching. The space between you felt charged, as though the brief exchange had opened a door you weren’t sure you wanted to walk through. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the tension shifted. Rafe leaned back again, his attention flicking to the table for a moment before returning to you.

“Fair enough,” he said simply, his tone neutral but laced with something that made your pulse quicken.

The conversation broke as Liam’s voice rose in laughter again, drawing your focus back to the group. You turned away from Rafe, but the weight of his words, and the way he’d looked at you, like he was turning over some unspoken thought, lingered in the back of your mind.

Chase and Brooke returned a few minutes later, Brooke balancing a tray of drinks with the practiced ease of someone who could do it blindfolded. Chase trailed behind her, a basket of fries in one hand and a triumphant grin on his face.

“Fries are here, ladies and gentlemen,” Chase announced, sliding the basket onto the table with exaggerated flair. “You’re welcome.”

“And drinks,” Brooke added, placing the tray down and handing out glasses. “Okay, who’s ready to have some real fun?”

Sabrina immediately perked up. “What kind of fun are we talking about?”

“Dancing, duh,” Brooke said, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she looked at you. “Come on, you’re coming with me.”

You returned her smile easily, “lead the way!”

Brooke’s grin widened. “Now that’s the energy I like! Let’s go.”

The group cheered enthusiastically as Brooke grabbed your hand, tugging you out of your seat with surprising strength and pulling you toward the dance floor with a playful urgency. The music grew louder as you wove through the crowd, the bass thrumming beneath your feet and mingling with the laughter and chatter around you. It was vibrant, intoxicating, and all too easy to step into.

The moment you reached the dance floor, you fell into the rhythm naturally. The beat pulsed through your body, every movement intentional but fluid. This was the game you were built to play, slipping into the moment, owning it, and making it look effortless.

“See?” Brooke shouted over the music as she spun to face you, her hands grabbing yours. “Isn’t this amazing?”

You laughed, matching her energy. “I get it now. Totally worth it.”

Brooke twirled herself dramatically, her curls bouncing with the movement. “I knew you’d fit right in. Seriously, I’m so glad we met. It’s like, you were meant to be here.”

Her words carried a warmth that felt genuine, even though you knew you couldn’t take them at face value. Still, you played along, letting your smile widen as you leaned in. “I’m glad, too. This is exactly what I needed.”

“Same,” Brooke said, her expression softening for a moment. “You don’t even know. You’re like... the missing piece. It’s been forever since I clicked with someone this fast.”

The sincerity in her voice struck you more than you expected, and you squeezed her hands briefly before letting go, your movements falling effortlessly back into the music.

“You’re making this way too easy!” You teased.

“Good!” Brooke laughed, tossing her head back, “that’s what friends are for.”

The crowd pressed in around you, bodies swaying and shifting with the beat, but you held your space with ease, your movements a blend of precision and spontaneity. Brooke’s laughter rang As Brooke spun you, you caught a flicker of movement near the table. Rafe leaned forward across the table, murmuring something to Chase.

His hand moved absently to the edge of the table, fingers drumming once, twice, before stilling. Chase laughed, gesturing animatedly, though it was clear Rafe’s attention wasn’t fully on him. There was a restlessness to his movements, a little pull that made your focus longer than you meant to let it.

“Don’t look,” Brooke began a second later, leaning in with a grin that was both teasing and knowing, “but Rafe had been staring at you for, like, five minutes straight.”

You blinked and turned to Brooke. “Really?”

Brooke gave you a playful nudge. “Uh, yeah. It’s not exactly subtle.”

Your stomach fluttered as you glanced back toward the table, this time catching Rafe’s gaze. His fingers rested lightly on the table’s edge now, his posture easy yet fixed, as though he was aware of exactly when you’d look. The corner of his mouth curved slightly, not quite a smile, but enough to leave you wondering what it meant.

“Told you,” Brooke said, leaning closer. “You’ve got his attention.”

Your heart raced, but your exterior stayed calm. You held his focus a bit longer before turning back to Brooke with a playful shrug. “Maybe I’ll let him keep it. He’s cute.”

Brooke gasped and twirled you dramatically, her laughter ringing out above the music. “Oh, I like you! You’re dangerous.”

You grinned, letting the energy of the moment wash over you. The weight of Rafe’s attention only added to your focus, sharpening every movement, every smile.

The song shifted and Brooke leaned in again, her voice warm and truly genuine, “I mean it. I’m really glad you’re here. You’ve made this semester so much better already.”

“Right back at you,” you said, matching her sincerity.

But even as you spoke, the weight of Rafe’s fixation clung to you, impossible to ignore.

You glanced back at the table, catching his focus once more. His expression hadn’t changed, but something in his eyes made your chest tighten. A heat spread through you that had nothing to do with the dancing.

He wasn’t just looking. His stare lingered, sharp and probing, as if peeling back layers you hadn’t meant to reveal. It felt deliberate, practiced. Like a skill honed over years. This wasn’t just attention. It was control.

And Rafe Cameron knew how to hold it. Everyone was aware of it. He was the kind of guy who turned heads effortlessly, who drew people toward him whether they wanted to be near him or not.

For a split second, you’d doubted if you were the one setting the trap — or if you’d already stepped into his.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron angst #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron fanfiction

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 years ago

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Chapter 3

of this post / Chapter 2 / read it all on ao3 Here

Steve was warm.

He was also naked in a bath that belonged to Eddie.

It was a nice bath, much larger than the one he and Robin rarely used, and full of bubbles that smelled like peppermint.

Eddie told him it would help keep him awake, but also help him stay relaxed.

He was right.

He was also currently making Steve a grilled cheese (his favorite) and letting him listen to music through his phone speaker (his relaxing playlist that he used for his paperwork hours at home). He’d made sure the bath was hot, but not scalding the way Steve usually had it. He didn’t leave the room until Steve was laying in the bath, head resting against the towel Eddie set up along the edge, eyes closed to keep his senses dulled. According to Eddie, that was really important.

He’d lit a few candles and kept them on the side of the sink, then shut off the light before leaving to make Steve’s sandwich.

Steve was still completely unable to speak.

That was more than a little unnerving.

He knew what he needed and wanted to say, but nothing came out.

But he trusted Eddie for some reason. He’d unpack that later.

Maybe.

Probably not.

For a guidance counselor, he wasn’t that great at giving himself guidance. Or counseling.

“Stevie?”

“Hm?”

Hey! Progress! He made a noise!

“Got your sandwich,” Eddie held up the plate and smiled at Steve, who had opened his eyes, but hadn’t bothered to lift his head from where it rested against the back of the tub. He was too comfy. “You wanna dry your hands so you can eat?”

He wanted to eat, but he certainly didn’t want to move. His hands were so warm in the water. If he took them out of the bath they’d be cold and probably pruned, which was not attractive.

Not that it mattered if he was attractive, but he didn’t want Eddie to have anything else to add to the list he’d titled ‘Why Steve Harrington Is Not A Catch.’

“Sunshine, you have to eat something.”

Steve sighed. He blinked at Eddie in hopes that he would understand what he was trying to say.

Eddie sat down on the floor next to the tub and lifted the sandwich up to Steve’s mouth.

That wasn’t what Steve was trying to say, but he couldn’t really argue since he was still apparently nonverbal.

Eddie had briefly explained that that happened a lot during subspace, and sometimes it happened during a drop.

Steve took a bite of the sandwich and groaned.

It was good.

Or maybe he was just really hungry.

Either way, he leaned in to take another bite before he’d even finished chewing the first. He didn’t even care if it was disgusting or rude, he just needed to eat.

“Good boy. But don’t eat too fast, sunshine. Don’t want you to feel sick.”

“Mhm.”

Steve relaxed again, letting Eddie hold the sandwich up to his mouth to take a bite every minute or so.

It was nice. Too nice.

Steve had never been taken care of like this. Even when he was with Nancy, she would usually leave him alone when he was sick or tired, not wanting to expend the energy it takes to get him through an illness or exhaustion.

He was a little needy sometimes. He covered it up well after Nancy, not wanting anyone, not even Robin, to know he sometimes needed someone to care for him.

He hadn’t even noticed he drifted off again until Eddie was running his fingers through his barely wet hair.

“C’mon sunshine. Water’s getting too cold. Gotta get you in bed.”

And then he was in what he assumed was Eddie’s bed in what he assumed were Eddie’s clothes in what he assumed was big trouble.

He let himself feel safe.

He hadn’t felt safe in a long time.

– – – – – – – – – –

When he woke up, he was alone.

He was used to being alone.

In fact, a part of his brain told himself he would have been more worried if he wasn’t alone.

But he wasn’t in his bed, which meant at some point very recently he wasn’t alone.

And then it all came rushing back to him.

This was Eddie’s bed. Eddie, the tattoo artist he barely knew, who helped him through whatever the fuck he went through yesterday.

He turned onto his side and nearly fell out of bed when he saw that he wasn’t alone. Eddie was asleep, body curled up facing Steve, but keeping some distance between them. His breathing was slow and quiet, and his body looked relaxed despite the uncomfortable looking position he was in.

Steve watched as Eddie slept, thinking through the events of the night before.

Eddie had known what to do, what he needed, and how to make sure he got it even when he couldn’t speak. He hadn’t taken advantage of him, even though it would have been easy to do with Steve so out of it.

Eddie let out a snore and Steve couldn’t help the endeared smile that crossed his face.

Nope, you stop that right the fuck now, Steven Harrington.

He was about to slap himself in the face to prevent himself from actually having feelings when Eddie’s eyes shot open.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Eddie smiled, and Steve was definitely in trouble.

“Hey, sunshine.”

“Um. Hi.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can get dressed.”

Steve started to sit up, but Eddie reached his hand out to stop him.

“No rush. Seriously, take your time. I don’t have to be at the shop until 12 today.”

Which reminded Steve that it was Sunday, he had nowhere to be, and he was currently very cozy. Maybe he could stay for a little while. Just until he was more awake.

“I don’t wanna take up more of your time. You’ve done enough I think.”

“It’s fine, Steve.” Steve felt himself make a face at the name and Eddie’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“I dunno. Just used to you saying Stevie or Sunshine.”

Eddie smirked at him and Steve felt his stomach drop. Where it dropped to, he didn’t know, and he didn’t think he would ever find it again with the way he felt completely hollowed out.

“It’s just as much for me as it is for you, Stevie. That was pretty intense last night.”

His tone was serious, but he kept a soft smile on his face, probably to make sure Steve didn’t run away without talking about some of it.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about everything. I really wouldn’t have even gotten a tattoo if I thought that would happen.”

“Nothing to apologize for. You can’t control it. How would you have known it would happen?” Eddie raised one brow as if to dare Steve to argue. “Exactly. You didn’t know. I’m glad I was around to help. Hate to think what could’ve happened if it was someone else.”

And, yeah, Steve was worried about that now too. Eddie seemed to know a lot about this, so Steve took this opportunity to ask some questions. He certainly couldn’t ask Robin.

It was a long conversation, and Eddie never talked to him like he was stupid. He was patient and kind, and was honest if he didn’t know the answer to something. He occasionally reached out to brush some of Steve’s hair out of his face or squeeze his hand if he seemed like he couldn’t figure out how to phrase something, bringing him back to the present and keeping his thoughts in order.

They went over how he could prepare for it next time, but Steve said he probably wouldn’t be getting another tattoo anytime soon.

Eddie said he would prefer that he come to him if he did or at least have someone who could help him through it if he went somewhere else.

“So, before the drop…” Steve stopped. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. Well, he did, but he didn’t know if actually wanted to say it out loud.

Eddie looked at him expectantly, an encouraging smile pointed at Steve in a way he couldn’t resist.

“Before the drop. I really felt…good. Like I was untouchable and nothing bad could happen. Is that always like that? The subspace thing?”

“I’ve never experienced subspace. I mean, I’ve tried a couple times when I first started messing around with people, but it just didn’t happen for me. But I’ve been with plenty of subs when they’re floating and they describe it like that, yeah. Like you can feel everything and nothing at once, but everything is good. It’s a high you can’t even get from drugs. Which is why the crash from it can be so fucking awful.”

It still didn’t make sense how Steve got to this point, how he had ever reached that high from needles pressing into his skin and Eddie being nice to him, and how he’d fallen so far so fast.

But what Eddie said was exactly how he’d felt the night before. He wasn’t really able to put it into words like Eddie had.

“So will I always drop if I end up there again?”

“Not if you’re with the right person and you can figure out limits and what causes it for you. Everyone is different. For you, it seems like pain might do it, but you would have to be in the right mindset to get there no matter what.”

“I wasn’t really in any type of mindset last night.”

“Maybe it didn’t seem like it. But it’s hard to really know when you weren’t expecting it.”

Steve bit his lip. How could he have not known? How did he make it to 27 years old not having a clue?

“Hey.” Eddie’s thumb rubbed against his bottom lip, pulling it away from his teeth. “You didn’t know. It’s normal for a lot of people to never know. If you weren’t into the scene before, how would you know? But now you do. And now you just have to be careful in the future. I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

Steve was gonna die right here in Eddie’s bed. Who the fuck just says shit like that? His heart skipped a beat like in those stupid romance books Nancy used to read.

How dumb.

“Is pouting your natural state?”

Steve pouted harder, bottom lip pushing out as far as he possibly could just to be ridiculous.

It was worth being and feeling ridiculous to hear Eddie’s laugh.

“Listen, I know I just threw a lot at you and you may have more questions. You’ve got my number on that tattoo care sheet, so make sure you call me or text me if you have any questions, okay? And if you want another tattoo and don’t feel comfortable going somewhere else, I’m happy to do it all over again, hopefully without the drop this time.”

“What if I wanted to float again? Without the tattoo.”

Steve should shut his mouth. He really should shut his fucking mouth.

Eddie searched his face, much like he did the night before. What the hell was he looking for?

He glanced behind Steve for a moment and then back at him.

“I’ve gotta get up and get ready. But we have to have a really big talk before I can agree to that.” Steve felt his own face fall, but Eddie quickly continued. “Not because I don’t want to, sunshine. I think you’re at the part of the post-high feeling where you wanna reach it again right away. That can be really bad for you and for me, okay? But I’m done at 7 tonight. You busy?”

Steve was never busy on the weekends unless Robin was dragging him to a club and he’d be damned if he tried to go to a club instead of being with Eddie.

Which is another thing he probably should start unpacking very soon.

“No. I have work at 7:30 in the morning though.”

“Ah, right. Guidance counselor.” Eddie smirked. “Nothing’s gonna happen tonight except talking. You could also…bring stuff to spend the night here if you want.”

Eddie seemed incredibly nervous to even suggest it, and maybe if it was anyone else, Steve would’ve laughed and ran out the door, never to look back at the batshit insane person trying to have him spend the night within 24 hours of knowing him.

But Steve thought about how well he slept in Eddie’s bed with Eddie last night, and he thought about how his bed was pretty lonely, and how maybe waking up here again would make him feel better about having to exist on Monday.

“Yeah. I could do that.”

Eddie’s answering smile was nothing short of blinding.

“Great! Okay. Let’s head on back to the shop so you can get your car. Is Robin home?”

“Probably. She’s probably waiting to see my name on the news with the headline “Dead Body of Idiot Man Trying To Get First Tattoo Found” and a picture of me from the yearbook.”

Eddie let out a loud laugh.

It was nice.

Usually, Steve got annoyed when people laughed so loudly, but Eddie’s was nice.

Eddie was nice.

“So. 7?”

“Yeah, sunshine.”

— — — — — — — — — —

Eddie didn’t let Steve stray far while they got ready to leave.

Steve would never admit how much he loved it.

During the drive back to the shop, Eddie played music Steve had never heard, and probably never would have if not for him. He didn’t exactly like it, but he didn’t mind it, especially when he watched Eddie sing along with a passion Steve hadn’t really ever felt.

They didn’t need to talk and Steve didn’t feel pressured to try.

He hadn’t felt so comfortable around someone since he first met Robin, and he was holding onto the panic he knew was coming when he was alone.

He was still feeling tired. His emotions had been on a hell of a journey over the last 18 hours, and Eddie had already warned him he probably would be feeling the effects of it all for another day or so.

But Eddie also explained that without the drop, it’s worth it.

He wanted to know what that felt like.

And he wanted to know what it felt like with Eddie.

So when they arrived at the shop and said goodbye, Eddie hugged him tightly, holding him against his chest. Steve wasn’t much shorter than him, but he managed to fold himself into him without being uncomfortable, resting his face against his collarbone and breathing in the scent he was already addicted to.

They separated, but neither seemed ready or willing to.

Did Eddie feel this pull the way Steve did? Was Steve just attaching himself to someone who helped him through his most vulnerable time?

As he walked away, he looked over his shoulder to find Eddie staring after him, keeping eyes on him as he walked to his car. He was frowning.

Maybe he did feel as much as Steve.

Chapter 4

TAG LIST: @invisibleflame812 @inmoonywetrust @captain-daryn @carlyv @lillemilly @spectrum-spectre @raisedbylibrarians @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @mightbeasleep @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @bornonthesavage @loguine-linguine

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #Part 3 #grumpy sunshine trope #tattoo artist eddie munson #dom eddie munson #sub steve harrington #top eddie munson #bottom steve harrington #accidental subspace Steve Harrington #ao3fic #myfic

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lunajay33 · 8 months ago

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New World🍂Part.13

Summary: You grew up in a crappy town with one friend who kept you going, everything started to fall into place, that’s until the world ended and the dead ruled the world, now you and your best friend Daryl Dixon had to stay alive but will you finally confess?

Part.12

•Masterlist•

I was around 5 months pregnant now and everything has been going good, great actually, Daryl became even more protective and I didn’t hate it I loved when he dotted on me, what can I say I adore him and I’m gonna adore this baby just as much

“Everything feeling normal since our last check up?” Hershel asked as I laid on the bed for him to check on things, Daryl at my side

“Yeah, they’ve been kicking a bit more and I have to pee a lot more” I said making Hershel let out a little laugh

“Sounds like you’re on track, now I’ll just check the heart beat” he took his stethoscope and placed it around my belly as the room fell silent

“Well everything seems to be normal, but I should warn you, some people around the prison have caught a cough, you should steer clear just incase, you can’t afford to get sick while you’re pregnant” he said as he gave me my prenatal vitamins

“I’ll take care of her” Daryl said helping me off the bed and leading me out of his little office as another person was about to enter, we walked past and noticed them coughing up blood

“I think I’m gonna set ya up in a watch tower just in case” he said rubbing my back reassuringly

“Yeah I think it’s better to be cautious”

He pulled two of our mattresses from our block to the watchtower as I gathered some of my things, blankets, to go bag, food and water, after we worked on it the rest of the evening it looked pretty cute……well as nice as we could get it

We laid in bed, his arms wrapped around me as I laid my head on his shoulder, my hand protectively placed on my bump

“Do you want a girl or boy?” I asked tired

“Don’t matter, as long as they’re like ya” he said dragging his fingers back and forth through my hair, I still can’t believe we got to this point from being best friends to me pinning over him and now I’m pregnant

“Well if it’s a girl…….can we name her Juniper?” I kept remembering the dream I had and I feel like it was a sign of some sort

“ of course sunshine”

Hershel was right, it’s only been a week and people were dropping like flies left and right, getting more and more sick, coughing up blood, it coming out of their eyes and everything, there was an incident where a cell block had walkers from those who died at night, that’s what Daryl told me he refused to let me leave the watchtower but now that I’m pregnant I didn’t really want to now anyways, as I was looking out over the field I heard Daryl come out

“Hey sunshine how ya feeling?” He asked rubbing my back

“I’m good but I’m really craving some things I can’t even have anymore” as I said that groaning he laughed as he stood behind me and held my bump

“What’s this lil baby craving?” He asked as we both looked down to where he was caressing my belly

“I really want soft serve ice cream, spaghetti, I really crave any kind of chocolate bar OH! and a orange soda”

“Is that all?” He let out a breathy laugh as it blew a bit of my hair tickling my face

“Daryyyylll, it’s not my fault the baby wants what it wants” I whined

“Well I know it ain’t chocolate of ice cream but I brought ya some spaghetti’os and some peaches I found out on a run, wanted to keep em just for ya”

“Awe thanks D, remember that time when you came over for a whole weekend when we were like 13 and all we ate was spaghetti’os and grilled cheese” I asked remembering the good times we had together

“Ya, think of it everytime I see a can, ya know I appreciate ya fer that stuff ya use to do fer me?” I turned in his arms brushing his hair back

“What do you mean?”

“When my old man would neglect me or beat on me ya were always there fer me, yer gonna be a great mother” he said placing kisses all over my face

“Oh Daryl, I’m always gonna be here for you, you’ve made it easy, you’re the sweetest most generous man I’ve ever met, and because of that you’re going to be the best dad in this whole messed up world, I love you D, always have and always will”

“I love ya too peach, forever”

I woke up seeing Daryl had already left, judging by the sun it was probably around 12 pm, since getting pregnant I’ve needed to sleep more, always tired was a normal side effect Hershel had told me, I got up putting my hair into a ponytail, pulling in some black yoga pants and one of Daryl’s plaids that still had the sleeves on, just as I was about to drink some water an explosion happened to the watchtower across the court yard, completely destroyed and in flames, looking to where it came from and my heart dropped, the governor and a group of people, I knew this was gonna go terribly, the governor wasn’t the forgiving type

I gathered up all my food and water and threw it in my back pack that had spare clothes and baby clothes Daryl had found for me, put my holster belt around my hips carrying my gun and knife, I slung my bag over my back and ran down the stairs, some of the group were huddled around the fence watching to see if Rick could settle this

“Sunshine ya gotta get outta here” Daryl said as he squeezed my arm

“No I can’t go without you”

“Ya gotta fer the baby, if things go bad and we get separated I’ll find ya, I promise” he said giving me a hard passionate kiss signalling for me to go

“I love you Daryl Dixon” and with that I ran off into the prison informing everyone to get ready, I was about to leave when I saw her, little Judith unaware of the dangers around her, I found her baby carrier, diapers, food and clothes and put it in my back as well then strapping her in the carrier on my chest and ran when a part of the prison exploded, I ran out the back opening in the prison, going until my legs couldn’t anymore, I could here the gunshots in the distance stop, I wanted to go back but I know I can’t, I kept walking hoping to find someone from my family

It’s been a few days now, I’ve just been walking and walking and walking, everything was the same everyday, wake up from some shitty shelter I could find, feed Judith and myself with the little rations I had left, and wander hoping someone would show up……..anyone, I couldn’t do this alone, pregnant and caring for a little girl there was only so much I could do and only so long I’d be able to do it without becoming exhausted

It felt like I’d never see Daryl again, I’d think of him all day especially when the wind would pick up and blow the scent of fallen leaves across my face, I’d picture his scruff and the feeling of it against my neck and shoulder where he’d be cuddled against me in the morning, and the way he’d glance at me with those blue eyes it made my world brighter, or how excited we were for this baby but now we may never be a family

As I was walking, reminiscing my lost love I came across a graveyard feeling fit with how empty and broken inside I felt, there was a house in the distance and decided to stay there for the night if it was all clear, I swept the house thankful for no walkers, Judith was getting fussy so I checked the cabinets and they were completely filled, I took a jar of jam and crackers and sat feeding Judith them myself until all the crackers were gone, it felt so good to have a full ish stomach, I hadn’t been starving on the road but it wasn’t enough, after we settled and the sun was setting I decided to sit on the porch steps to rock Judith to sleep hoping the fresh air would help, I leaned my head against the banister looking out over the graveyard, it was silent from walker groans only the sound of wind rustling through the leaves and crickets, it felt like old times when Daryl and I would stay out late and just watch the sky

All of a sudden there were a figure in the distance running closer to the house, I stood up securing Judith and taking out my gun but the closer they got the clearer they became

DARYL

I dropped my gun as I walked down the porch, he finally noticed me and Daryl ran even faster, I could feel the knot in my throat and the tears cascading down my face, I tried to speak but all that came out we gasps, he was here, he found me like he said, he finally reached me throwing his arms around me and holding my head to his chest as I cried harder then ever before

“I found ya, are ya alright?” He asked pulling and looking over my body

“I’m……..I’m okay now” he held my face looking deep in my eyes and that scent of musky woods crossed my senses and I breathed in deeply

“You found us” he finally looked down noticing a completely knocked out Judith

“Ya got her, got lil asskicker……..and how’s the baby?” He asked rubbing my belly

“I think they’re fine, I need more food though but I got that covered now” I took his hand and led him inside showing him the gift that was the kitchen cabinets

We lit some candles and chowed down for the rest of the night until we went upstairs settling in the bed after Daryl had secured all the points of entry

We found some clothes and changed into the fresh ones and slid into bed, his chest secure to my back as he held me close, arms and legs entangled, lil asskicker in my arms

“I thought I’d never see you again………I was so scared” I felt his arms tighten around me

“I ain’t leavin now, I thought of ya everyday”

“I can’t do this anymore Daryl” I whimpered as my bottom lip quivered, I needed a home that was secure and safe and peaceful I couldn’t have a baby where it was at risk every second

“I know baby, I’ll find it fer us, all of us”

“Did you see anyone get out?”

“Nah, too much was happening but…..Hershel’s dead”

“The governor?” My heart ached for Hershel he was the sweetest giving man

I just felt him nod as he started rubbing my belly, knowing how much it calmed him down

“I love you more than life Daryl” I said turning my head so I could kiss him gently

“Love ya too, I wish I could give ya everything we coulda had, it may not be everything but I’ll try”

Part.14

Lmk your thoughts on this chapters, if you’d like to be added to the taglist comment!!:)

Taglist: @deansapplepie @ghostboneswrites2 @willowshadenox @thebadbatch2022 @writer-ann-artist @i-wear-wet-socks313 @thestonedwriter

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firsttimewriter92 · 2 years ago

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My haven could be you - Part 2

Joel Miller x f!reader (18+) - Part 1 , Part 3

Summary: Joel doesn´t really know how to approach you but an opportunity presents itself in the form of a very unwelcome man

Word count: 8.250

Warnings: angst, creep, phisical fight, injuries, flirting, pining, feelings, hidden desire, dirty talk, PinV intercourse, rough, cursing, MINORS DNI!!!

Authors note: Here it is :) The highly requested Part 2. It´s gettin´ steamy my loves. Hold onto your panties! Not proveread yet

Giddily you stood in front of your mirror in the corner of your living room, admiring the beautiful pale green dress that Lauren fitted for you. The material was flowing around your legs, your waist comfortably embedded in various strings of golden and green stripes of fabric. Your chest was accentuated in a way you hadn’t seen in years and it made you feel incredible. You couldn’t remember the last time you tried to look good or even sexy. Naked had been your usual sexy if you wanted it. And it always worked. But that wasn’t an option for today of course.

Maria wanted a celebration and asked everyone to just let go for one evening and to dress up as best as they could. You turned again and grinned wildly as you captured your reflection in the mirror. You felt giddy and excited. Tonight was the night you wanted to not think about anything more than just having a good time. If that involved Joel or better yet, his hands and mouth, then you´d gladly fall into it. Hopefully he´d be there, though you had a feeling that either Tommy or Ellie would drag him to the barn by the ears if he tried to stay home.

Your hair was shiny and perfectly framed your face the last time you took a look in the mirror. Smiling to yourself you threw on your jacket and hurried down the steps. The sun was just setting but the air was still slightly warm with the first powerful rays of sunshine. Many other people were on the way to the barn and a bubbly, light atmosphere lay itself over Jackson like a comfortable blanket. The air smelled of bonfires, flowers and meat that was grilling in the barn´s kitchen.

As you entered the venue a trembling breath of awe escaped you. Fairy lights and colourful lightbulbs illuminated the wooden walls. A delicious smell hung in the warm, thick air as you walked further inside, greeting people left and right, kissing Lauren on the cheek when you passed her. Her eyes were round and she squealed in delight as she looked you up and down. She patted your cheek affectionately. “My dear, you look fabulous. It´s exactly as I´d hoped it would look on you. Oh, sweet child. I hope you have the time of your life tonight. God knows we could all use an evening like this.” You smiled at her. “Thank you so much, Lauren. I´m absolutely in love with it. You outdid yourself. Please, enjoy the evening.”

Rock music was coming from the old Jukebox as you conversed with Michael and Jenna behind the bar. The young couple was your age and close to being first time parents. You really liked them. “Oh, no. ___, don’t look up but Levi is coming over” Michael said and rolled his eyes. Your stomach sank. Levi came to Jackson about six months after you did and for some reason would just not get the hint that you weren’t interested. There were not many singles in Jackson, especially around the same age but Levi…Levi was much younger than you and that was just something you couldn’t ignore. Mostly because of the fact that he acted his age but…more aggressive and a little condescending. He just couldn’t comprehend the fact that he wasn’t this prime piece that every woman licked theirs fingers for.

“___” he drawled lazily as he leaned onto the counter right next to you. A cocky grin on his lips. “Levi” you said with a thin smile and quickly raised your shot glass in greeting. You really hoped your body language would do the trick this time but no such luck. Of course. “How ´bout you dance with me, little mama?” A disgusted shiver ran down your spine at that. Little Mama? What the hell? His hand was already at the small of your back when your head whipped around and you snarled at him. “How many times do I have to say it, Levi? Hmm? I am not interested in you. Please, for the love of god, get it through your thick head. You won´t take no for an answer and that tells me everything I need to know.” You raised your chin when you saw that yet again, the message wouldn’t go through. There was no emotion in his eyes as he continued with a twitch of his lips.

“There really is no point in playing hard to get,___. I already like you enough. Tell me” he licked his lips and his eyes dipped to your cleavage. You felt your blood boiling. Who did that idiot think he was? “When was the last time you had some good old fashioned fun, huh? Come on, baby just imagine it. Your body rocking on top of me-“ “Knock that shit off, Levi. Right now!” Michael boomed just as your hand shot out to slap Levi across the face. He was quick though and gripped your wrist painfully hard. A dangerous and primal glint in his eyes. “There you are, little feisty bird. I like that.” In your periphery you could see Michael hurrying around the bar. Jenna was shouting. “Levi! Let her go or-“ “Or WHAT?” Levi snarled.

“Or I´ll break Every. Single. Bone. in your scrawny body, asshole!”

The next moment you heard the sickening sound of bone crashing against bone. The hand that had held your wrist let go and Levi went flying several feet backwards and onto the ground. A wide back stepped halfway in front of you. Clad in a black dress shirt and his signature jeans on, Joel was breathing heavily. His fists were balled at his sides. He watched as Levi stumbled to his feet, grasping onto the bar. “What the fuck, man!” he grunted and held his bleeding nose.

“Go on, boy. Run your mouth some more. Your nose was just the first bone I´m gonna wreck!” Joels voice was cold, menacing and absolutely terrifying.

Finally you saw some sort of regret in Levi´s eyes as he glared at Joel and you. “All right. All right. That little prude better watch where she´s going!” Something snapped in Joel´s neck and like a bull he charged forward. At that moment both Michael and Tommy were by his side holding him back while he shouted at Levi. “You dare come close to her and I swear I will tear you limb from limb!”

“Joel! Quit it!” Tommy huffed while holding his brother back. “He´s not worth it, come on, man! Levi!” Tommy glared at him. “Get the fuck out and be glad that I´m not turning him lose!” Levi stumbled and moved quickly towards the doors. At that point several people were paying attention to the scene. Your whole body was shaking with nerves and rage. Your eyes were trained on Joel´s back as he shook Tommy and Michael off. He was still breathing heavily. Tommy looked at you apologetically. “You alright,___?” he asked. You nodded your head. “Yeah, I´m fine. Nothing happened.” Joel turned to you. Your eyes met and your heart stuttered in your chest. His eyes were warm when they met yours. He hung his head a little and looked at you ever so softly. A little worried. You smiled at him and the corner of his mouth twitched.

Maria hurried over to you. “___, is everything okey?” You smiled at her. “Yes, all good. I´m sorry Levi made such a scene.” Maria shook her head immediately. “Don’t apologize. Levi was way out of line. Something worse could have happened.” She turned to Joel. “Thank you for stepping in, Joel. Really.” Joel nodded his head. “There´s ice in the back. ___, how about you take Joel and make sure his hand is cooled down?” Did she just wink at you? Nervously you swallowed as heat crept up your neck.

You looked at Joel again and waved him over. He followed you immediately as you made your way to the back where the kitchen was. Fabiola was the main chef and still buzzling around the various pots and pans. “___, my love, what are you doing back here? You should celebrate.” She gave Joel a slightly weary look. “We need some ice, Fabiola. Joel…he…um…” Joel lifted his hand sheepishly and Fabiola´s eyes went wide as plates. “Oh, dio mio!! Sí, certo…ice. Over here.” She came back with some ice wrapped in a dish towel and handed it to you. “I´ll leave you two alone for a moment.”

“Here, sit.” You gestured to a wooden box in the corner where he sat down. You pulled a small stool towards you to sit down across from him. You had to smile slightly as you remembered how sweet little Fabiola needed that stool to basically reach anything.

You took the dish towel and reached out for Joel´s hand. It was angry red and his knuckles were split a little. “Looks painful” you said as you carefully pressed the ice to his hand. He didn’t even flinch, only exhaled a long breath. “´S nothin´. I´ve had worse.” Your eyes met yet again. He was smiling. The corner of his eyes crinkling so enticingly you had a hard time not to reach out and caressing the side of his face. “I wanted to thank you. For standing up for me” you said sincerely. He raised his brow in question. “No need to thank me. That little bastard had it coming as soon as he lay a hand on you. If not me, you probably would´ve kicked his lights out within the minute. I saw your face when he grabbed you.” Joel sounded almost proud when you chuckled and paid attention to his hand again.

“Although I would have liked to see you give him hell…I….I couldn’t stop myself.” Your hand that was holding his moved a little. Almost caressing his palm. “Like I said” you said with a smile. “I don’t mind at all. In this day and age, it´s quite nice when someone stands up for you. Looks out for you…protects you.” You ended your sentence with a small unsure voice and forced yourself to look at him again. When you did, his eyes held nothing but soft determination. He nodded to let you know that´s exactly what his motives were. “You know” you said with a chuckle. “This is the longest conversation we´ve had so far.” Joels eyes dulled a little. “Yeah” he said and sighed. “That´s…that´s pretty much my fault. I…I´m not exactly a very social person anymore.” You nodded slowly.

“I get it. I mean, the circumstances and all…You just don’t know who to trust anymore.” You shrugged. Joel studied your face carefully. “I´m sorry” he said in a small voice. Your head whipped up. “What for?” you asked, genuinely confused. “I must come across like some asocial asshole. Not talking much.” He looked genuinely upset. Again your fingers lightly brushed the inside of his palm to try and reassure him. “Not talking much doesn’t make you an asshole, Joel” you lightly giggled. “I can only share my own experience but,” you grabbed his hand a little tighter. “When I first came to Jackson I didn’t know how to let go either. I was on edge all the time. Couldn’t sleep or eat properly. I always waited for that one blow.” Joel´s eyes went a little wide and he blinked several times. “Jackson is a safe place, Joel. For you, for Tommy, Maria, me, everyone, really…and of course Ellie.” You smiled up at him. “Not to sound bratty but,” you smirked at him as you saw a blush creep up his neck. “You could really do with a good night’s sleep and some relaxation. You´re tense.”

Joel hung his head and huffed out a good natured laugh. Your pulse picked up again. “Yeah, I know.” He raised his eyes to yours again, a thankful look in them. “I know I could relax here. Ellie doesn’t have any problems. It´s just…” You grasped onto his hand carefully. Your touch strong enough this time to make it clear that it wasn’t fleeting or a touch by chance. “There is nothing here in Jackson that could rob you of a good sleep, Joel. You´re safe.”

Joel´s face visibly relaxed as he heard those words. He knew they were true but hearing them was another thing. He leaned forward slightly. “Have a drink with me” he whispered with conviction as his slightly injured palm closed around your hand. You grinned immediately and nodded your head. “I´d love to.”

His lips twitched and he got up from the crate, pulling you from the little stool with him gently. Something shifted in the air slightly. Joel´s fingertips still brushed against the sensitive skin of your wrist. He must´ve felt your pulse hammering like a hummingbird´s heart. Not being able to look at you his eyes were trained on his hand holding yours. A thickness lay itself over the two of you as you studied his features again. Strong eyebrows were slightly pinched. He looked like he was concentrating hard on something. The moment his pink tongue darted out to wet his lips slightly, you could see clearly that he´d felt the shiver that shook your body momentarily. There was no time or space however for any kind of embarrassment. Why hide anything now. If you wanted something you might as well let him know what it was. All he could do was reject you. And that would at least finally set you free.

A strained sigh escaped him and slowly he made eye contact again. You knew you were breathing heavily at this point. The two of you standing way closer than you needed to at this point. His scent crept up your nose and little fireworks of pure desire started dancing in your brain. He smelled of minty soap, crisp spring winds and something earthy and strong that could only be his own scent. It made you dizzy in combination with his curious chocolate brown eyes, holding you captive in this loaded moment.

As if he wasn´t able to stop it, Joel´s other hand lifted slowly. Still holding your gaze you felt his fingertips light as a feather touching the skin of your cheek. By this time you knew you were sweating. A tickling sensation running down your back as you marvelled in the slight touch of his breath on the tip of your nose. Joel´s thumb carefully stroked over your cheekbone. “Let me get to know you. I want to know you.” His voice was quiet and so sincere, you knew immediately that this man would be worth waiting for. Your desire for him grew into something softer, more determined. Into something driven to make him happy, make him feel safe, wanted and cherished. You closed your eyes for a moment and slightly leaned your head into his still lingering touch. When you opened your eyes again, the look in his eyes was a mixture of disbelieve, relieve and simmering affection.

You nodded your head gently. “Then stay close” you said with a little smile. “Don’t hide from me.” Joel hummed when he stepped back slightly and let go of your face and hand. You could still feel the burn of his skin on yours. “I won´t. You´ll see that I can be quite…determined.” His tone was almost playful in the end and you loved every second of it. Your lips split into a grin as you moved towards the door back into the barn. The close proximity in which you passed him, the little smile you gave him while doing so and the accentuated swing of your hips did exactly what you´d hoped. A little strangled sound came from the man behind you before you heard hurried footsteps and then a big, warm hand at the small of your back as he lead you through the door with a smitten smile.

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It was almost like a switch had been flipped inside Joel. He smiled more, although still only shortly it was always sincere. He was outside more often, actively reaching out to different people. He didn’t go on patrol every single day anymore but instead helped around any construction site there was in the city. He helped build new stables for the horses as it was now foaling season and had his meals more often with Tommy and Ellie in the barn. He still wasn’t very much relaxed but you knew he made an effort. How did you know? You knew in the way he opened every single door for you whenever you were together. You knew in the way he began to cock out his hip or his knee whenever he stood next to you, trying to stand more comfortably. You also knew by the way you sometimes caught him looking at you with a butter soft look that made your heart jump into your throat. You´d spent several minutes a day just talking and walking to wherever you needed to go but it was always him that soughed you out. He´d stand next to you suddenly and just start talking. Not that you minded in the slightest.

Just as in this moment. His elbows leaned against the door of the stable as he observed you with interest. You were checking up on your favourite mare that was about to give birth. Checking how lose the muscles in her behind were, you raised your eyebrows at her. “Not long now, huh?” you smiled and walked around her to stroke her head affectionately. “Don´t rush it though, ok? I´d like to sleep in tomorrow if you don’t mind.” The animal pushed it´s head more into your hand as you chuckled. You turned around and saw Joel smiling at you. Again you could feel what his presence and wide frame did to you.

“Have dinner with me” he said softly, a slight nervous undertone in his baritone voice. You blinked a bit bewildered. “Ellie already asked me if I wanted to join you tonight. You two need to communicate better” you winked at him playfully. Joel rubbed his neck and suddenly looked everywhere except for you. Something was a bit off. “Jesus” he muttered under his breath. With a throb of your heart you saw how his neck and cheeks suddenly turned bright red. “What I meant was…dinner with me” he lifted his head and there they were again. Those damn puppy eyes. “Just me.” Again you blinked at him while your brain was desperately trying to catch up. “Oh” you said lamely before the adrenalin in your blood made sure he wouldn’t take it as a rejection. Quickly you added “Yes!” Ok, that was way too loud. Reign it in! “Yes” you cleared your throat and answered a little less breathless. “I can do that. Dinner, yes. Totally.” It was so blatantly obvious that you hadn´t been asked out to dinner in literal decades, your stomach turned at the cringeworthy tone of your voice. Thankfully even Joel seemed to be like a fish out of water himself. He stared at you for a second before your answer really penetrated his consciousness. “Great” he said and drummed a short rhythm against the wood of the stable door with his palms. “Great. Dinner, my place. Pick you up at seven?” You nodded your already swimming head. “Sounds perfect.”

He nodded again as a smile appeared on his face making his eyes crinkle so enticingly. “See you at seven,___” he said your name so softly that it made your toes curl. “Yeah. I´ll be ready” you breathed. Again he grinned as he turned around and walked away with a distinct pep in his step.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Dakota!!” you yelled as you stormed into the bakery looking for your friend. “Ducky!”

“What, what?? Who died?” You saw her head pop around the corner as always smudged with flour.

“I need your help” you panted as you leaned against the counter, grinning like a mad man.

“Ah, so no one died. Great” Dakota chuckled and walked over to you. “Now what´s got you so excited?” You looked at your slightly younger but surely closest female friend you´ve made in the last year. “Joel” you whispered giddily.

“Fair” Dakota said with a chuckle. “I know you religiously ruin your panties over that man but what exactly has he done now? Breathed next to you? Uh, did he defend your honour again? I swear the way you two looked at each other that evening, I would have thought you´d both already be boning like rabbits.” She ended with a laugh as she saw your wide eyes. “Ducky, this isn’t funny. He asked me on a date. A date!” She raised an eyebrow in question. “Seriously? Mr. Deathglare´s asked for a date?” You nodded your head wildly. “Well, would you look at that” Dakota actually sounded impressed. “Knew you´d be a good influence on him. Good for you!” She hugged you. “You did say yes, didn’t you?”

You snorted. “Very much like a freshmen in High School but yes, I did.” Dakota looked at you amused. “And now you need….?”

“I need to go through your stash. Just to be safe” you said quickly. Dakotas eyes went wide. “Ohhhhhh, you little minx. Of course, of course. We need to be safe. Come on, let´s go.” With a little giggle you followed your best friend who was dragging you to the back of the bakery where her flat was.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Your nerves were raging through your body. Why were you so incredibly nervous. You knew Joel liked you enough to ask you out, he liked you enough to get between you and potential danger, he liked you enough to touch you so delicately. The fact that you seriously had a chance…that was it. It was surreal because it actually happened. Not just in your vivid imagination but in real life. Seven was only two minutes away when a knock to your door made you jump. You hurried over to your front door and…fuck. Fuck, you were done for! Joel stood in front of you with a little bouquet of wilflowers. He was wearing a dark blue V-Neck T-shirt that nearly made you salivate. A darker pair of jeans than he usually wore hugged his hips as well as a leather belt with a prominent belt buckle. In true southern fashion he slightly inclined his head while holding eye contact and extended the bouquet towards you. Only now you realised that his usual curls were somewhat tamed and gently fell over his ears.

“You look beautiful” he said gently as you took the flowers with a slight tremble of your hand. A bright smile adorned your face as you replied. “Thank you, Joel. You clean up very well I have to say.” Joel´s ears went slightly pink as he chuckled deep in his chest. “One moment” you said as you turned around and reached for a small vase standing on the little table in your entryway. You put the flowers in some water and put them on your coffee table. Hurrying back to Joel who was patiently waiting you closed and locked your door before looking up at him. He had a fond expression on his face as he offered you his arm. You just knew he saw the pulse hammering in your neck. “What a gentleman” you giggled as he lead you down the stairs and towards his house at the end of the street. Joel gave you a boyish grin that made your heart stutter in your chest.

“I was raised in Texas, darlin´” Ohhhhh, that southern drawl. He was laying on thick and you gobbled it right up. “My nan would haunt me if I lost my manners in front of a lady.” You blew a dismissing raspberry into the air and his head whipped down to you. “What?” he asked a bit confused. “´M hardly a lady, Joel. That was a long time ago.”

He regarded you with a bit of a confused and curious look before he lightly shook his head. “I´m sorry but I beg to differ” he grinned again. “When I got ready just now I suddenly felt like I haven´t felt in decades. Like it was a normal night. Just…simply date night. It still feels like it although everything is so different.” You nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. “I didn’t date much before the breakout” he confessed a bit sheepishly. “But I recognise a lady when I see one.” You giggled and shook your head a little.

You arrived at his house only a few moments later. He let go of your arm only to unlock the door and guide you into his home. A delicious smell came from the kitchen and invaded the living and dining room. Joel took your little bag and lay it on the counter of his kitchen. You followed him and saw that he must have prepared some kind of “Chilli?” you asked fascinated. Joel smiled proudly. “Yes. I used to make this all the time. Probably because it´s the only thing I don’t completely ruin when it comes to cooking. Do you…do you like Chilli?” You nodded your head immediately. He smirked a little. “Come here” he said in a bit of a raspy voice and waved you over, the sentence vibrating in your guts.

You went over to him and stood right next to him when he opened the lid of the pot. Joel gave you a spoon and nodded encouragingly towards the chilli. Dunking it in and blowing on it gently, your eyes nearly rolled inside your head as an appreciative sigh bubbled up your throat. “Good lord, Joel. This is fantastic!” Joel´s eyes blitzed with happiness. He took a small step towards you, completely stepping into your space and you welcomed him there without hesitation. He gently took the spoon from your fingers and lay it on the counter without breaking eye contact. You swallowed hard when you saw that his eyes took on a bit of a hungry look. “You really look quite beautiful tonight” he said lowly. “I thought you were the first time I saw you. And at Maria´s Birthday…the only word that came to mind when I saw you was angelic.”

Your knees nearly gave out. Was this it? You couldn’t say anything. Didn’t know how to express what he made you feel. “I apologise if I seemed uninterested or rude. I couldn’t let go of my worries. Needed to think about Ellie but believe me, you were…are on my mind constantly.” You knew your eyes were wide as plates at this point. “I can´t say that dating has been a priority for me. Of course it hasn’t but…it´s funny how safety and consistency can change ones priorities. I don’t want to run around anymore. This place has everything Ellie and I need.” Your heart swelled when you heard him talking about the young girl with so much fondness.

When his hands landed on your waist, your breath hitched but you didn’t move even an inch. “Please tell me if I interpret this wrong but I kinda hoped, you know…” He was failing to maintain the eye contact longer and just looked at your neck instead. Still tongue tied you tried to reassure him as best you could. Your hands lifted themselves and gently you lay them on his firm chest. With a disbelieving chuckle you felt how his own heart was going ballistic underneath your palm. “Joel” you whispered heavily. “I´m glad you get to relax finally. I´m glad you want to stay here. I´m glad…you´re not interpreting this wrong. I…I´m hopelessly attracted to you.” He genuinely seemed surprised for a moment. His hands on your waist flexed before gripping onto you a little tighter. His head dipped towards you until his nose brushed yours ever so gently. “You are?” he whispered almost in awe. You nodded against his nose and laughed lightly. “Yes” you said with a much stronger voice. “And if you don´t kiss me already I´m gon—hmmm!” He took your invitation without question and pressed his lips to yours in a bit of a clumsy but electrifying manner. Your skin immediately started to burn, especially the moment one of his hands landed on the side of your neck and his thumb began to circle your pulse point. It took everything in you not to whimper.

The kiss wasn’t very long or passionate. It was more of a finding of rhythm, what pressure the other liked most, finding an understanding of what was happening. His beard tickled your skin so deliciously while his warm hands nearly scourged your skin. When you separated however, the look you gave one another was clear as day. Pure longing and excitement. Joel reached out blindly and fumbled for the stove, turning it off. He checked for any sign of protest from you but only saw a light smirk on your face.

The next moment was like some kind of floodgates opened. His arm wound around your waist completely as he turned you and pressed you to his fridge, the other hand still on your neck. This time a little whimper did escape you and gave him all the permission he needed. Surging down he enveloped your upper lip with his in a swirl of passion. Your arms went around his neck as you quickly kissed him back in kind. It was open mouthed kisses and grabbing hands. From your neck over your arm down to your ribcage he used the momentum he had on you to fully grab onto your thigh and guide it roughly up to his hip.

A moan came from both of you when he made himself at home against your other thigh. Gently you tucked at the curls in his neck and he answered with a little lick to your lower lip, testing the waters. Your insides were on fire in an instant. How would you ever survive a night with this man if simple making out almost made you lose your fucking mind?

Slowly Joel introduced his tongue into the kiss more and more. And with every new troke against your own you clung to him more. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy this. An long groan came from him and without thinking about it he started to grind his groin against your leg. Breathing heavily against his mouth you panted. “Fuck, Joel. You sure you haven´t done this in a while?” He grinned and lightly tucked at your lip with his teeth. Kissing a line over your cheek and down to your neck he answered. “I didn’t date. No good reason to do that out there. But I´m just a man. There was one or the other woman, I can´t lie. But yes, it´s been a while. God, you are delicious.” His tongue licked a stripe from your neck up to your ear. When he bit your earlobe your whole body twitched in anticipation.

The hand on your thigh pressing it to his hip moved slowly upwards pushing your skirt up in the process. Joels fingers stroked your soft skin with a soft hum on his lips. “Tell me, pretty girl” he rasped into your ear. “Would you allow an old man to take you to bed?” You nodded quickly and bit your lip as you gave him more access to your neck. “No, no, darlin´. I need to hear it. Indulge me in that sweet voice of yours.” You tried to pull yourself together enough to answer him. “Yes. J-Joel. Take me to bed, please.”

Hearing your pleading tone he growled against your throat and his grip on you became bruising. Connecting your lips again he this time almost kissed you silly. His scent in your nose, his obvious desire for you and the noises he made, made it impossible to think about anything else than wanting to please this man into oblivion. He disconnected from you with an impatient grunt but smiled down at you when he saw your already billed out expression. He let your leg go and slowly made sure you could stand somewhat stable. Stroking your face again affectionately he gave your nose a tiny peck before speaking.

“I want you to be sure about this,___. I would hate for you to regret it afterwards. I can wait or stop right now if you want me to. I just…god, I´ve thought about this so many times. I want to do this right.” You stood on your toes and gave him a slow, loving kiss. “Take me to bed, Joel. I´m sure. I want you” you smiled. He closed his eyes in relieve and took a deep breath. When he opened them again to look at you a shiver ran down your spine. His gaze was determined, filled with lust and want. “Yes, ma´am” he simply rasped and took your hand, heading towards his bedroom upstairs.

You stumbled into his room, kissing and already undressing. Joel was pulling your pullover over your head and groaned long in his throat when you saw your bra. You tucked at his shirt impatiently and he willingly pulled it over his head. Too far gone by the perfect swell of your breasts to worry about his physical appearance. He didn’t need to worry anyway. Your hand moved over his chest, shoulders and down his torso until be was a panting mess before you. Basically holding onto your hips just to ground himself. When your gentle fingers reached the soft pouch of his tummy, tickling the soft hairs of his treasure trail he was almost about to lose it.

Joel started walking towards his bed pulling you with him. He sat down and without hesitation you pulled down your skirt, kicked it away and moved to straddle his lap. A hiss came from you when he grabbed fistfuls of your ass and squeezed hard. “Sorry” he panted and smoothed his palms over your behind. “You´re just too…You´re so much more perfect than I imagined.” You could feel your confidence spike tenfold at that and you started nibbling on his neck. “You imagined this?” you asked cockily. He hummed and pulled your lips to his again. “Every fucking day, baby” he said against them. “Fuck, so did I.” Your hips began to rotate your hips on his lap. His cock pressing insistently against your pussy.

Joel was still wearing his Jeans. That had to be uncomfortable. Licking his lips enticingly you ground your hips down harder and watched as his eyes nearly fluttered shut. “Ok, Ok, you little siren, I get it. Up” he said with a strained chuckle. A sharp slap to your ass made you yelp before you scrambled off his lap, if very reluctantly. The price you were about to receive though made it worth it. Joel stood quickly and fumbled with his belt before pushing the offensive pair of Jeans down his strong thighs and off. The clanking of the buckle made you shiver uncontrollably and as soon as Joel was only in his boxers your impatience peaked. Pushing him down on the bed you crawled on top of him and looked down at his quite surprised face.

“Let me make you feel good, Joel. Relax for me, yeah?” You kissed his collar bone and felt him take a deep, rumbling breath. “This is more than I ever imagined. Baby. You can do whatever you´d like. Just stay right there.” His tone was almost whiny as his hands moved over your thighs slowly. “Whatever I like?” you asked with a cheeky smile against his pectorals. He groaned. “Yes. Fuck, yes. Anything you want.”

You moved your head next to his ear again and whispered in the lowest, most seductive voice you could muster “What if I want you inside of me?” Joel almost choked on his own spit. His hands grabbing onto your ass possessively. “Don’t talk like that, little one. Don’t…oh fuck. Good lord.” You could feel his cock throbbing against your underwear. A little droplet of sweat ran down the valley of your spine before you gathered your wits again.

Knowing that this was it, this was happening, you quickly stood up from the bed. Joels head whipped up in protest. “The hell do you think you´re goin´, beautiful?” You gave him a grin over your shoulder and bent down to get your skirt right in front of him. He fell back onto the bed and pushed his hand down his face dramatically. “Move your sweet ass back over here, for the love of god” he growled.

“Patience, Mr. Miller” you said as you sauntered over to him again. The condom secure in your hand. He saw the foiled packaging and nodded in understanding. “I was almost too far gone to think about that” he muttered. “Good thing you have me then” you said as you straddled him again. He looked up at you. His eyes held something appreciative, thankful and absolutely fascinated in them. A warm and calloused hand reached out for your cheek and held it gently. You clasped his hand with yours. “Touch me, Joel” you whispered and guided his hand down over your collarbone and over your breasts. His fingers twitched when they made contact with your bra.

Letting go of his hand you reached behind you and unclasped it. When the straps fell down your shoulders his hand tucked lightly and pulled it off of you. “Sweet Jesus” he breathed and sat up in one fluid motion. Looking at your chest with lust blown eyes, he peppered it with light kisses, both his hands now brushing over your sides. A warm, wet tongue darted out and licked over your already pebbled nipple. “Shit” you cursed as you felt your pussy throbbing immediately.

“Knew it” he groaned and suckled the hardened bud a little more forcefully. “Knew you´d be so sensitive.” You nodded blindly, pushing your chest closer to his face. “Feels so good” you breathed. “Bet you could cum just like this, couldn’t you, hm? Just with me paying attention to your incredible tits.” His voice vibrated over your skin making you oh so desperate. “Joel, please” you muttered as you buried your face in his hair. “I know, sweetheart, I know” he panted and lifted his hips up into you. His cock hard and hot against the ever growing wet spot between your legs. With a light yank of his hair he stared up at you before you attacked his lips with all the desperation you felt at that moment. “Take them off” you said insistently and moved your hands to the waistband of his boxers.

Nodding against your lips he lay back down while you straightened up on your knees and watched as he pushed his boxers down and shook them off his legs. Joels cock was already angry red and jumping against his little belly. You licked your lips unconsciously before slowly lowering your hips down again. “You´re a literal goddess, you know that?” Joel asked. You smiled at him. “Do you want me to get rid of these too?” you asked and snapped the hem of your panties against your skin. Joel nodded quickly.

It wasn’t exactly very gracious the way you pulled them down your legs but it was quick and efficient. Joel had already unwrapped the condom and was just rolling it down his shaft. You grabbed his hands and intertwined your fingers as you angled your hips, rubbing your wetness over his shaft. “Fucking hell” he grunted. “Baby, that all for me?” His dark eyes were trained on the spot where the head of his cock gently bumped your clit again and again. “Yes” you whimpered. “All because of you.”

“Come on, sweetheart. Wanna feel you so bad. Wanna make you cum so bad, please. Hurry up and put it in.” Joel hissed when you grabbed his heavy cock and angled it to your entrance.

With a long and beautiful moan you slowly worked it inside of you. The feeling of him inside of you was something you´d never experienced. Not because he was big but because of the absolute joy you felt when you saw what it did to him. His eyes where shut, head thrown back onto the pillow and droplets of sweat adorned his greying temples. He looked truly blissed out and it spurred you on like nothing else. To get his attention you squeezed around him the moment he bottomed out. “Ohhh, hell. Yes, sweet girl. Yes!” His eyes snapped open again. “Baby” his voice had a warning tone. “Baby, you need to move. I can´t…´s too much. Feel so incredible. Please move, ´m sorry. Can´t” he whined.

Your whole lower body seized at his admission and without thinking you started to move your hips back and forth. The sensation was instant and powerful. You didn’t know how he did it. If it was the angle, his size of the pure desperation that surged through your body but only a few swivels of your hips in you felt an intense pulsing and the tell-tale knot forming in your lower belly.

“What the fuuuuck” you moaned and moved a little more aggressively. “Joel…fuck, that’s it! Oh, god. Ahhh. What´re you doing?” Joel groaned when he felt you squeezing him yet again. “___” he breathed. “Fuck it´s perfect. You´re perfect. Good fuckin´ girl, come on! Ridin´ me so fucking good, hmmhpf.” Getting up on your kneed a bit you really started to ride his cock in earnest and were immediately rewarded by a shout of pleasure and slightly higher pitched whimpers. “Yes, yes, yes” he panted with every fall of your hips onto his length.

“You´ve no idea how much I want you. So gorgeous. Cum for me baby, please. Cum for me, cum for me.” You whined when his words penetrated your fuzzy mind and twisted the knot in your belly that much more. “So good. Can feel you clenching around me, darlin´. Come on. Just a bit more. ´M so close. Wanna come for you, baby.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin, moans and whimpers filled the room and it couldn’t be more perfect. Your hands were on his chest to balance yourself and his were on your hips, helping you bounce on his cock. “Shit! Oh god.” Suddenly Joel´s fingers gripped your hips tighter, digging into your flesh as he planted his feet onto the mattress. “Sweetheart, I´m so close. Tell me you´re close, please” he pleadingly looked up at you, almost panicked. You just nodded your head. You couldn’t even form a normal sentence the way his cock pushed inside of you and making your mind foggy with every drag.

“Thank fuck” he growled and began lifting his hips upwards. A scream erupted from your throat when you felt the true strength of his thrusts. He was overwhelming. Moaning you collapsed onto his chest, panting against his pectorals as his arms wound themselves around your sweaty back and pressed you closer to him.

“Joel, fuck. I´m close. Please, please hurry” you almost whaled while hiccupping and damn near salivating onto his sun kissed skin.

“Thaaaat´s it! That´s it, come on, honey, take it! Take all of it. Doin´ so good for me. Fuck! Fuck! Yes, hhhmmmm.” Not even a minute later and you felt the knot unravel. You wanted to warn him.

“Joel!” you cried out but couldn’t manage more than that before you violently started shivering and convulsing. Overwhelming pleasure surged white and hot through you while the rushing in your ears was so loud, you almost didn’t hear your own scream or even Joels words.

“Oh, shit!! Perfect, fucking perfect, baby. Taking it so good. Fuck! I´m coming, coming with you baby. Right now, keep going, keep going! Fuck! Ahhhhh,___! HHMMMNGG!” Arching his back to press himself as deep as he could reach he released all the pent up desire he had for you into the condom. “Shit! Shit!” he panted, gradually becoming quieter as he held onto your still twitching body on top of his. His hand loosened a little around you and he brushed his palms soothingly over your back to try and bring you back down from your high. Even though his own hadn’t subsided yet in the slightest. He still couldn’t really feel his legs by the time you groggily lifted your head and a pair of eyes filled with disbelieve and wonder looked at him.

A slow smile spread on your face as you leaned up and began peppering his face with kisses. He laughed lightly, still trying to catch his breath as you lovingly traced the laugh lines around his eyes. “Hello, there” you giggled. Joel groaned and covered his eyes with his palm, giggling. “Really?” he asked. “I just rocked your world and you come at me with a Star Wars reference?” You gently nipped on his collarbone. “How about I tell everyone you rocked my whole galaxy? Am I allowed Star Wars references then?” His chest swelled at your words and he carefully brushed his knuckles over your cheek and shook his head. “You´ve got me wrapped around every beautiful finger you possess, darlin´. You can make all the Star Wars references you want.” A dreamy smile appeared on your lips and you leaned in to kiss him.

Joel slowly moved you to his side, slipping from your warm cavern with a slight hiss. He removed the condom, tied and discarded it. He wrapped you in his arms and moved your head into the crook of his neck where you contently breathed in his musky scent. Suddenly your stomach began to gurgle comically. Joel broke out into a full belly laugh. A sound you so thoroughly enjoyed, your whole body began to buzz. Joel nuzzled your nose and kissed it. “How ´bout I go downstairs and get you a bowl of Chilli, hm? We could eat it in bed. I do need the fuel for next time.” With his last words he began suckling on the skin of your neck while you already felt those sweet, sweet shivers again.

“Next time?” you asked hopefully. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Don´t think I´ll let you out this bed until Ellie comes back tomorrow. You stay right where you are.” With a last squeeze of your waist he turned around and stood from the bed. He walked over to his boxers and with every step he took your mouth watered.

When he pulled up his boxers and exited the room you fell over onto the mattress with a girlish squeak. Then, after musing about what you wanted to do to him next time, you heard a door fall shut downstair and Joel shouting. “Jesus, fuck!”

“Joel!” you yelled and jumped off the bed. Quickly you looked around and saw a big bath towel on his dresser. Quickly wrapping yourself in it you went downstairs to see what´d happened. Joel was standing at the foot of the stairs, attention on the front door where you heard a voice….Oh, crap!

“What are you doing here, Ellie? I asked you to stay out tonight” you saw Joel pinch the bridge of his nose. Ellie stood at the front door when you slowly came into view. “I forgot something and…I really understand that you need some alone time with your date, Joel. But I live here too, you know. Why are you in your boxers?” she asked and wrinkled her nose. Then her attention snapped to you, clad in only a towel on the stairs. “Ellie-“ Joel began exasperated but it was already too late.

“No fucking way, dude!” Ellie pointed at the both of you. “You sly old horndog, you already boned, didn’t you? It´s not even that late!” She doubled over laughing while Joel gave you an apologetic look. “Did you even get to eat anything before he jumped your bones?” she asked, addressing you directly. You grinned at the teenager and descended the stairs until you were one step above Joel. Reaching out and wrapping your arms around his shoulder, your chin on his head you winked at her.

“Not yet, we were just fuelling up for round two. You better get what you forgot and skedaddle if you don’t want to hear him-“ “Oh hell, no!” Ellie covered her ears and made a beeline to her own room across the dining room. Joel turned in your arms and looked up at you lovingly. “Move in” he said earnestly. You laughed and kissed him. “She´s a teenage girl, Joel. You need to fight fire with fire.”

Ellie came out of her room, gave you another disgusted look and opened the front door. Before leaving though she turned around one more time. “You two better be decent when I get back tomorrow. And for the love of god, use protection.” With a very light smirk on her lips she turned and closed the door. You gave Joel another peck on the cheek. “So, how about that Chilli?” He grinned at you and nodded. “Get your sexy ass upstairs and into my bed. I´ll be there in a second.” Another kiss that left you dizzy, wet and yearning for more, he slapped your ass lightly and shushed you up the stairs, grinning after you with a light and happy feeling filling his chest

________________________________________________________

Thank you very much for reading. Please let me know what you think through a comment or reblog. Likes of course always make my day <3

Love you all and please be safe <3

Tags:

@farintonorth @moonlightdivine @sunshine-kittyy @imonmykneessir @cowboychickenlittle @luna-salem @leeeesahhh @friendlyneighbourhoodgothicpagan @makingloveout @mxtokko @starybrainz111 @shadowtrick @manazo @stevengmybeloved

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unseededtoast · 11 months ago

Text

Turtle Doves | Joel Miller x F!oc

Part One

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

wc: 2.9k

a/n: Thank you for checking out this story! This is by far one of my favorites that I've ever written and I am beyond ecstatic to finally be able to share it with you all. I will be uploading a new part every week, and let me know if you'd like to be tagged! Once again thank you so much!

(use this link for geographical reference points)

Upbeat music sounds through the house, bright sunshine beaming through the open windows. The crisp breeze whips in every few seconds, blowing the sheer curtains and cooling the house. It all makes it seem more real that summer is finally here. I lightly bob my head to the beat, enjoying the first day of warmth and excited for our first cookout of the year. I hear a few of the guests in the back yard already, laughing and clinking bottles together.

I turn around and open the freezer door, grabbing the ice tray off the top shelf and breaking up the frozen water inside, so that I can dump the cubes into the glass pitcher sitting on the kitchen counter. The ice clings as it falls to the bottom of the pitcher, and I go to fill it with water to finish the lemonade. With another gust of wind, the smell of grilled burgers floats in, making me all too excited to get back out there.

The doorbell rings out and I quickly turn the water off so that the lemonade doesn't overflow into the sink. I set the pitcher off to the side and dry my hands on the towel laying on the counter. Quickly, I make my way to the door and open it, greeting the next arrivals with a wide smile on my face.

"Thank you guys for coming, please make yourselves at home! I think the burgers are just about done out back." I say and close the door behind them, grabbing a dish from my friend's full hands and placing it on the counter. Her daughter toddles through the house, mumbling about something that's apparently very important to her. I smile softly at the little girl and turn my attention to my friend, who I haven't seen in forever. Her husband quickly finds his way to the back yard with the other guests.

"Sorry we're late, someone did not want to wear shoes today." She breathily laughs, setting down a diaper bag as she watches her daughter walk around the house.

"I understand, shoes are a pain." I joke with her and open the fridge to grab a chilled bottle. I hand the wine cooler to her and she pops the cap, taking a sip. I look at my friend, who I notice looks tired and stressed, more than usual. There are dark circles under her eyes and her hair is haphazardly thrown up into a bun. Her appearance is out of character for her, she's typically always primped and dressed for the occasion.

"Tell me about it. I was half tempted to just let her come barefoot. How's Lucas?" She asks about my son, taking another sip. I turn my head to look out the back door, seeing my son being held by my husband.

"He's loving all the attention out there, that's for sure. How are things going, Lisa? I feel like I haven't seen you since last year." I inquire, casually grabbing the lemonade pitcher and setting it beside the veggie tray I took from her. She sighs,

"Things have been better. John has been working more hours lately. Which is fine, it's just that I feel like I never sleep anymore." She tries to joke, but I can sense the exhaustion in her. Her husband works as a physician at a local hospital, and has been on call for the past two weeks. I offer her a small smile and put a hand on her shoulder,

"You and little miss Amelia are welcome here anytime. Lucas would enjoy the company and I know you'd enjoy the rest. I mean it, I don't mind watching her." I tell her, knowing that she will likely never take me up on the offer. Lisa doesn't like to impose on people, though she wouldn't be imposing at all.

"I appreciate it Noelle, thank you." She nods gratefully. Amelia finds her way to the back door and puts her slobber-covered hands on the glass, mumbling nonsense but making it clear she wants out there with everyone else. I laugh at her silliness and balance the veggie tray in one hand and grab the lemonade in the other.

"I think Amelia wants to get out there. Feel free to just relax, we can watch over her. Enjoy yourself, mama." I say and make my way to the backdoor and expertly open it with my elbow. Amelia squeals and runs out onto the grass with the other kids.

Lisa goes to sit on the couch, taking another drink, and I close the door behind me. I set the veggie tray down on a foldable table where the other side dishes are and place the cold lemonade beside the other beverages. The burgers smell amazing and I can't help but glance over to the grill to see if they're done yet. To my disappointment, they're not ready, so I walk over to my husband Ryan, who has Lucas in his arms.

"Do you want me to take him?" I ask, knowing that even though Lucas is a small kid, he gets quite heavy after a while. Ryan nods and hands him off to me, kissing me on the forehead before he goes to grab a beer out of the cooler. Lucas lays his head on my shoulder and I can tell he's ready for his afternoon nap.

I go back in the house to find Lisa chilling on the couch, her drink empty in hand and her head resting back on the cushion with her eyes closed. Quietly, I make my way to Lucas' room and lay him down in bed. Of course, as soon as he's on the mattress he's starts to throw a fit, because he's so obviously not tired.

"Shhh, it's okay." I soothe him, running a hand through his short hair and tucking a light sheet around him while he curls his tiny little hand around my fingers. He always likes to be holding someone's hand as he falls asleep, I think it must be some sort of security thing for him. And thankfully, he's out in just a few minutes. Skillfully, I wiggle my hand from his grasp and close his door softly, hoping he'll sleep for at least an hour or two.

Lisa is now sitting up on the couch, her elbows resting on her knees as she leans forward, listening intensely to whatever is on. Something on the TV must have caught her attention.

I go to the fridge and grab a drink, wanting to indulge a little since Lucas is down for a nap. The words on the TV pique my interest, and I go to sit beside Lisa, who only glances at me out of the corner of her eye.

"Los Angeles is the latest city to be placed under Martial Law. The number of confirmed deaths has now passed two hundred. And according to a leaked report from the World Health Organization, recent vaccination attempts have failed." The reporter seems uptight and rigid as she speaks. Absentmindedly, I take another sip of my drink, feeling uneasy about what I'm hearing. The upbeat music from the yard starkly contrasts the severity of what's on the television.

The news broadcast switches to a helicopter view of Los Angeles and shows a temporary military camp being set up. Large armored trucks line the streets and soldiers instruct people where they need to go. There's smoke in the air from fires that have been set, and it looks like some foreign, war-torn country.

"What do you think of all this?" My voice is unusually hoarse as I take in the images before me. There have been reports of some sickness going around, mainly in the bigger cities, far enough from here to make us feel safe, for now. But seeing the devastation and panic of those in New York, Detroit, and now Los Angeles is making me more uneasy about the whole thing.

"I don't like it. John says we shouldn't worry about it. Whatever it is, they'll find a cure for it soon. He says he hasn't seen anything come through the hospital yet and that we're okay. But I don't know, I can't help but worry, you understand." Lisa's voice is soft, but serious. She tears her eyes away from the screen and looks to me as she finishes her sentence, and I nod my head.

"I understand. Ryan says the same thing. But we aren't that far from Detroit, really. I mean what, a few hours by car? I told him we should at least stock up on some canned goods, just in case." I say, knowing that we share the same anxiety about this mysterious sickness. The back door slides open quickly,

"Burgers are done!" Ryan's voice calls out into the house, snapping Lisa and I out of our contemplation. I clear my throat and take another drink before standing and offering Lisa my hand. She takes it and I help her up as well, and we both go outside, trying to forget what we just saw on the screen.

We join the others in the back yard and Lisa makes quick work to fix Amelia a plate. I urge others to get a plate before I do, feeling unnerved from the news report. After everyone goes through the line, I grab a plate as well, but can only bring myself to put some fruit on it, and that's just for show.

I join Ryan at the patio table and he's tucking into his burger with all the fixings. I take another drink and try my absolute best to act perfectly normal and unperturbed. Ryan swallows and looks between my plate and my face, his eyebrows scrunching together.

"Only fruit?" I nod my head, knowing it's out of my usual to not load up with a burger, chips, and some type of sweet.

"Just not feeling too well." I passively offer as an explanation and take a strawberry into my mouth. He takes another bite of his burger, keeping his eyes on me. I know he can see through my lie, but I know he won't push it in front of people. He puts a hand on my thigh and gives it a squeeze, and I place my hand on top of his.

I take another strawberry and look out into our back yard, seeing Amelia happily nibbling on a bun Lisa gave her. Another little kid sits beside Amelia, Ethan is his name, and he is content with his bowl of chips his mother gave him. Ethan's mother, Rebecca, met Lisa and I at a birthing education group a few years back and we all clicked together instantly. Rebecca's husband, Tim, fit right in with our husbands as well.

Others mill about the yard, associates of Ryan who I don't know very well, but they're friendly enough and I don't mind them. I've never been able to connect with them too well, seeing as there's a sizable age gap between me and the majority of them. Plus, they're all lawyers and I'm a florist, there's not much common ground between the two. Sometimes I wish I had more in common with Ryan's friends, but over time I've accepted that it's okay for us to have differences.

My eyes drift from the people to my flower beds, which are all manicured to perfection. Luckily, all the flowers are vibrant and full, adding more life to the yard it sometimes lacks in the colder months.

After a while, I go about collecting plates and cleaning up the food as the sun begins to disappear behind the horizon. Ryan is entertaining a newly energized Lucas as Lisa and I pack away the leftovers and hunt out the s'mores supplies. No Allen family cookout is complete without s'mores.

I turned the television off as soon as we started bringing things in, not being able to bear the words and images that were sure to be there. If I can just push those thoughts from my mind for another couple hours and make sure people enjoy the cookout, then I can worry about it for the rest of the night after they leave.

Lisa hands me a platter of leftover burgers to put in the fridge and breaks the silence,

"Your flowers are beautiful this year, I really like the tulips you have here." She compliments my fresh pink tulips on the counter. I had picked them this morning before everyone got here so they looked their best. I smile, appreciating the compliment.

"Thank you, I tried to pick the best ones. You can take those with you if you want. I have plenty." I say, motioning to the backyard. It's true, I have an abundance of flowers to choose from, and I want Lisa to have something nice for herself, she deserves it.

"Oh no, I couldn't. You worked hard on those." She dismisses with a wave of her hand, but I give her a stern look.

"Lisa, please take the flowers or I will make sure John takes them." I say, pushing the vase across the counter to her. She knows she's not going to win this argument and concedes, taking the vase in her hands.

"Thank you, Noelle." Her voice is quiet, and I give her a nod.

"Don't mention it. Now let's get these kids full of sugar before bed!" I laugh and hand her some of the s'mores ingredients to take out.

A few of the men had started the fire and have it at a nice height, it should last us long enough to get the s'mores made and for people to say their goodbyes for the night. I hand out the skewers and place the ingredients on the foldable tables, allowing people to help themselves.

Lucas waddles over to me with a marshmallow in his tiny hand, and I smile, knowing he wants me to toast it for him. I grab him in my arms and take his marshmallow, placing it on a skewer before sitting us on a chair close to the fire. Lucas is on my lap as I watch the marshmallow to ensure I don't burn it, but toast it perfectly for him. Lucas is kind of a marshmallow snob, he won't eat one that's been burnt or under-toasted, he only wants the golden-brown ones.

After rotating the marshmallow with patience, I think it's finally good enough for his standards. I grab it off the skewer and blow on it so that he doesn't burn his mouth on the hot sugar. His hands reach towards it, but I lean away to cool it off as much as possible. I can tell he's getting frustrated, and so as soon as I'm sure it's an acceptable temperature, I give it to him. He wastes no time in shoving it in his mouth, a wide, gummy smile on his face with tiny little teeth barely visible.

I watch him lovingly, enjoying seeing him so happy with something so simple. As Lucas finishes his marshmallow, some people begin filtering out for the night. I wave goodbye to them and take Lucas inside to clean him up before bed. His hands and face are sticky with marshmallow fluff, and the last thing I want is for him to touch everything in his reach and get everything coated in stickiness.

I set him up on the counter beside the sink and grab a fresh rag, wetting it lightly so I can get the gross off of him. Rebecca, Tim, and Ethan are the next ones to leave, and I wish them a safe drive home, and thank them once more for coming. Lisa, John, and Amelia are the last ones to leave, and I make sure Lisa takes the tulips with her despite her protests.

After Lucas is cleaned up and Ryan has tidied the back yard, I'm ready for bed. My eyelids are heavy with sleep, and I can't wait to get underneath my warm covers. Lucas fights his bedtime as per usual, but finally lays down for me after minutes of whining.

I close his door and turn off the main lights in the house and ensure the night lights are on, just in case Lucas gets up in the night and needs to get to our room. I rub my eyes as I enter my bedroom and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine. Ryan is already in bed, flipping through channels to find something.

I rush through my routine and get underneath the covers, sighing with relief as I feel my spine decompress from the day. Rolling over into Ryan's side, I rest my head on his shoulder and look at the television screen. Immediately, I'm displeased with what I see. A bold headline is front and center and it reads 'Death Toll Rises, When Will This End?'. Luckily the TV is on mute so I can't hear what the news reporter is saying.

"I think we need to stock up on things tomorrow. I don't like how this is looking." I say, standing my ground this time. Ryan can believe whatever he wants about this sickness, but I won't risk Lucas going without food or any necessity if things get bad.

"First thing in the morning we can go." Ryan's voice is raspy, and he turns the TV off, not bothering to watch anything else. He adjusts his position and pulls me into him, kissing me goodnight before he rolls over to turn off his bedside lamp.

I cuddle into his side, enjoying the safety I feel in his arms and close my eyes, ready to fall asleep. As I feel myself drifting off, I hear muffled sirens in the distance.

Part Two

#joel miller #joel miller series #joel miller x oc #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou #joel miller romance #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #angst #severe angst #pedro pascal

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choicescommunityevents · 6 months ago

Text

Choices Picnic

July is National Picnic Month, so I thought it would be fun if we had a Choices Picnic. The event will take place July 12-14. The event will have two parts. The first will be a list of prompts to inspire creative works to be shared during the event. The second part will be posts that will pop up during the event for you to reply to to encourage discussion and community. Both the prompts and the "pop up" post topics are below so that you can prepare whatever you like!

Have fun and enjoy!

Event Prompts

Basket

Blanket

Gingham or Checkered

Sandwiches

Fruit

Lemonade

Sunshine

Park

Nature

Grill

Outdoor

Games

Picnic Table

Grass

Flowers

Friends

Family

Watermelon

Barbecue

Salad

Hiking

Trees

Butterflies

Kite

Sunhat

Sundress

Shorts

Squirrels

Ants

Clouds

Water Fun

Sea Side

Lake

Rainy Day

Wine

"Pop Up" Community Prompts

these will be shared as individual posts on the days of the event for you to reply with to have a "community" discussion/share. I'm just sharing them ahead of time so you can plan ahead what you might like, to share.

What will your MC(s) be wearing to our Choices Picnic? Will they be attending alone or will their LI(s) be there? What will they wear? [Looking at the other replies, what new friends will your MC be making?]

What food would your MC bring to our Choices Picnic to share? And/or If your MC had to plan the menu for the picnic what would it look like?

How would your MC document the picnic to share on their Pictagram (or any other social media accounts)?

What games or activities does your MC enjoy during a picnic?

What is your character’s favorite picnic dessert? Do they make it or buy it? Is there anything special about it?

3 things: what three things does your MC feel are a must for any successful picnic?

Rules/Guidelines

Submitted works will be featured on an event masterlist

Every form of creative work can be submitted: fanfiction, drabbles, moodboards, edits, drawings, poems, songs, sketches, and more—all are welcomed.

Work from any book and story from the Choices (and Pixelberry) universe are welcome (new and old alike)!

You can participate as many times as you want during the event

You can combine submissions for this event and others

Please add a cut to avoid long posts and exposing other fans to triggering content.

You can get creative with the prompts. It can be a variation of the word and/or concept. It doesn’t have to be exact or literal. If the word inspires a train of thought that led you to something different, put that in the notes and send it in! Have fun with it! Make them work for you! The ultimate goal is just to find joy in creating!

Please tag @choicescommunityevents and if you’d like to add me you can do so as well~ @lovealexhunt (feel free to DM me your work too since Tumblr tags are fickle)

You may also use #ChoicesPicnic24

Please do not submit work that has been created with AI. Works that contain AI will not be reblogged. If reblogged inadvertently and I find out they have AI, they will be deleted.

#choices #playchoices #choices game #choices fandom events #choices community events #choices monthly challenge #host: lovealexhunt #host: storyofmychoices #ChoicesPicnic24

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palmtreesx3 · 2 years ago

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Seeing Stars

I don't often share the words that vomit from my own head, but from what started as Hot Tub Steve appreciation inspired by the artist formerly known as @willowherbal (*insert Hunger Games 3 finger salute in memorial*) and the masterpiece that was Be With You Everywhere - Hot Dog Steve emerged and I couldn't remove the bumbling idiot from the depths of my brain. So thanks for that @sweetsweetjellybean @crappymixtape @superblysubpar

Steve Harrington x FEM!reader

Summary: The crew finally decides it's time to start celebrating the 4th of July again, but Steve Harrington finds he can't stop himself from staring.

References to past trauma, a dash of NSFW, staring, glaring and illusions to a hot tub hook up

Part 2: A Girl Like You

_________

It was hot. Not oppressive. Not stifling. But the kind of hot that has you seeing stars at one in the afternoon. Sunbeams bouncing off pool water, sunglass lenses and sweat glistening skin - not sure if you're more desperate for the cold beer or sticking your hand in the ice cold cooler to grab it in the first place.

Honestly, it's everything you could want for a celebratory, classic, absolutely patriotic 4th of July, but things are different at this particular picnic. It's been a few years, but the innocent holiday full of sparklers, sweet watermelon juice running down your chin and late night fireworks just hasn't been the same since everything that happened that year at Starcourt. It was when everything you thought you knew about the place you grew up changed in an instant and this motley crew welcomed you into their fold. Since then, most have pretended it was any other day, hiding away trying to busy themselves with whatever they can to avoid the Americana laced trauma.

You don't know whose idea it was to finally put a pin in the escapism, and while most tentatively agreed that it was about time you knock down the walls you all built to hide away the day, everyone unanimously also agreed they didn't want to spend it with anyone else that wouldn't understand. So that's how you found yourself here, hiding away for the holiday in the backyard of the Harrington house, poolside with people you grew up way too fast alongside, and others who are now far too grown to be the kids you once cared for. It's still surreal to you to think you can find yourself comfortably sitting here at this house with any of these people - none of whom (save the kids) were you big fans of before that star spangled day from hell all those years ago.

You were splayed out now, towel rolled up under your neck, daydreaming. Trying hard not to have your thoughts float back to all that you've collectively been through and instead on all the things you wish would go right from here on out. Behind a soundtrack of laughing, splashing and American Woman playing loud on the radio, you were grateful for the comfort of these people who turned into lovely friends and imagining the potential of a fresh start ahead after just finishing up your college degree that past spring. Things feeling far enough in the past to even consider what a future could look like.

That sparkling, blinking sunshine brought you back to reality - sunglasses snatched from your face in an instant by a meddling Dustin dashing by. The kids all now playing hot potato with your Ray Bans, you sigh before calling out "After all these fuckin years, you still think you can get under my skin? You know you're not 13 anymore, right?!" They laugh and you smile, because your favorite pastime is giving them as much shit as they can handle.

You squint hard against the blistering sun and in that moment become blissfully aware of the sweat dripping down your body. You casually reach in your bag, grab a second set of sunglasses and pop them on your nose while you swing your legs over the side of the lounge chair, considering your next move.

In that moment, your eyes catch on the steam now rising from the grill on the other side of the yard, Steve standing behind it ready to throw on a round of hot dogs to feed the ravenous troops. He's in navy blue swim trunks slung low and cut high, sunglasses perched on his head and a scowl of concentration on his brow. You selfishly pause for a moment to take him in, standing there so much more a man these days than before, but you quickly shake it off like you always have and make your way back over to the coolers, reaching in for a new can of beer and a handful of ice.

Behind the grill, Steve is doing everything he can to hold it together. He's kept himself busy today, lucky enough to be able to hide behind playing host in order to avoid suspicion. His issue isn't even the holiday - he doesn't need the 4th of July to remind him of his torture. He has chronic headaches and a ringing in his left ear to take care of that. His issue is you. You and the new view he has of you now that he's standing there behind the steaming hot dogs.

He takes a moment to gather himself, running both hands through his hair. You've never been one to fall for his charms. Not the King Steve brand nor the genuine yet still cavalier one that came after he actually got his shit together. He never did shy away from poking and prodding and exploring what he could get away with, but you…you always threw it right back at him. Playing what you assumed was a game of banter meant to keep each other on your toes - what he assumed was your attempt to remind him that you never really chose to be his friend. Despite everything you have gone through together, your friendship still felt a mile away from him and any semblance of a chance with you arguably further. He knows how you feel - felt? - about King Steve and he's pretty sure you being in his life is meant to be yet another reminder of what a shit person he used to be. So instead he settles for teasing and friendly yet biting remarks all soothed by his own fleeting glances.

And God damnit if he isn't cashing in on those fleeting glances today. He's pretty sure he's had to duck away inside the house at least twice to hide his half hard cock as he caught a glimpse of you sunbathing, sweat glistening on your tits in your festive red bikini or bending over, ass on full display, leaning deep into the cooler to pass out another round of beers to the group, including the kids who are now old enough for no one to give a shit if they have one, too. It's a challenge he wasn't aware he needed to be ready for. A battle of wills that makes tossing a molotov cocktail at an otherworldly monster seem like child's play.

Yet here he stands, making himself as busy as he fuckin can at the grill while you pass back over with a group to sit down again on the lounge chairs. Someone turns the radio up while you and Robin stand up and start belting out Wilson Phillips' "Hold On" to whoops and cheers from everyone around you. It's in that moment he slides his sunglasses down off his head knowing full well he will not be able to pretend he isn't watching you intently without the safety of his dark shades covering his eyes. He's taking deep breaths counting the hot dogs back and forth and back and forth again to ground himself when you run up next to him, out of breath from the sprint over, the singing, the dancing or all three combined and shove a can in his face.

"Can't forget the grill master, huh? Do me a favor and don't burn the dogs."

" Uh, yeah. Yeah, thanks." He stumbled out. Normally he keeps his composure and plays his role giving you some bite in his responses, but you've already derailed him and he's pretty sure the sun is frying his brain while he's at it. So now you're here, standing there completely thrown off.

"You okay there, Harrington? "

He grumbles out a hum and you leave him be, figuring he may need a few more beers or a whole new personality, because every time you consider dropping the snarky act with him he totally blows you off and can't be bothered to speak to you in full sentences. He's come such a long way and you want to let the past be the past entirely, but you find that you're irritated with yourself for even looking his way when he acts like that, so you come to give it to him harder next time.

Everyone has settled in again with their fresh drinks and full bellies, some playing a card game on the pool deck, a group taking a break from the water spread out in the grass and others bobbing in the pool. You take the opportunity now that the pool is calm and all games of chicken are nowhere to be found and slide in too, deciding to be unbothered by whatever the fuck is going on with Steve. You grab a hold of a float and kick your feet up so you're floating on your belly, arms folded on your float and head turned to the side resting in the cool water. After a best of silence you spin yourself around, ready to strike up a conversation with Nancy about her own post-college plans when you catch it. The sunglasses are just low enough on the bridge of his nose to catch a glimpse of the direction of his eyes and you are one thousand percent sure that before you turned your float around abruptly, Steve Harrington was staring hard at your ass. Fuckin typical.

Your conversations continue to flow, you join in on games of Rummy and races in the pool. You find yourself shoulder to shoulder with Max on your towels in the grass giving the girl the kind of advice you know she needs. And all the while you feel his eyes. You thought the first one was a fluke - of course Steve Harrington would oggle any ass put in his view - but now you're not so sure. Because normally with you, he'd follow up his blatant stare with some kind of bite or tease, telling you to put your ass away before someone uses it as a flotation device. Instead every time you think you might be catching him staring you down behind his sunglasses he makes himself busy and jams another hotdog in his mouth. At this point you think he's eaten at least 6.

It's late now, and the group starts moving inside, picking a movie and settling in cozy spaces to wind down from the day. Everyone falls into their normal movie night rhythms, bickering over movies, Dustin talking through the opening credits and flicking the lights off for the ambiance. You find yourself in your favorite movie night chair, giant Hawkins High Tshirt slung over your now dry bikini, feet with red painted toes hanging over the armrest, when you're certain you feel it again - eyes on you in the dark of the room.

Robins first to fall asleep, unabashed snores falling from her for far too long before Steve nudges her and tells her to go the fuck upstairs and get to bed already. He leaves to set her up in one of the guest rooms and you can hear now that instead of returning to the movie hes clanging around the kitchen cleaning up from the day. The others also start, sun-beat and slightly buzzed, nodding off into a comfortable slumber around you, and you don't hear Steve padding around the kitchen any longer, so you also assume he has packed it in and went to bed.

When you quietly snuck back outside, walking while shedding your oversized t-shirt yet again in favor of a quiet moment in the Harrington's new hot tub under the stars, the last thing you were expecting to see when the shirt lifted over your head was Steve, already perched there in the bubbles.

" I thought for sure you had already gone to bed. " You say into the silence. He has yet to really acknowledge you so now you're even more confused than before.

At this point, you're fully committed, shirt already off so you climb in, with or without his permission to join. Dipping your toes in and lowering yourself into the jets, you catch him looking before he looks away and you've about had it. You know you might come off strong here, maybe a bit bitchy…and the way he's sitting there with shoulders freckled by the sun and his chest hair all on display under the jets has you second guessing your frustrated emotions, but you don't let what's in front of you distract you. You stick to your guns and open your mouth.

"What the fuck is your problem today, Harrington. I know we're not the closest, but I thought we were friends and I'm not sure what I did to offend you?"

" Offend me? I - uh, shit. What do you mean? "

" Well you won't stop staring me down today, so either I did something to offend you or you can't help yourself enjoying this fucking impeccable view. " And as you say it, you genuinely feel that it's just a normal bite back. A tease that is on par for your friendship. It's when you see the look on his face after you say it that changes everything. He looks like a puppy dog. One that's waiting to be kicked after sifting through the garbage. Like a little kid with their hand in the cookie jar. Like he's just been caught red white and blue handed at his own fucking 4th of July picnic because he wasn't able to tear his eyes away from your body. Oh my God.

"I-it's not, I mean...I...guess it is, fuck. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. Y-you just… . "

You watch him stumble over his words - a literal feat for someone who used to wear a crown like King Steve - and see him slowly slink down until only his eyes and nose remain above the bubbling water, shutting himself up without fail. Of course he acts like this with you. How is he supposed to ever convince you he's not an ounce of that old disgusting version of Steve if he can't act civilized around you even when you're in a bathing suit. His eyes closed slowly before he squeezes them tight. He can't will himself to look at you because he's so fucking embarrassed and he doesn't want to talk about it, but you - your not dropping it. You can't.

"Steve, you fucking look at me right now."

He slowly opens his eyes, keeping half his face still submerged in the water to ensure he doesn't say anything else so utterly stupid or make you any more mad at him than you clearly are. He looks at you so intently, directly in your eyes almost without blinking and you don't think anyone has ever seen that far into you before in your life.

"Were you spending the day checking me out?" you say, softer than he expected.

He slides up, ready to explain and admit his transgressions "yeah I mean, listen, I really didn't think anyone noticed, especially you... "

" Oh my God, you really were shoving hot dogs in your face to try and throw me off, weren't you? "

" Holy shit, yeah I ate like 10. Fuck, it was that obvious? That's so embarrassing. I really need to get a grip. You just looked so good today and I was probably just distracted and I'm sorry - " eyes closed again in utter shame, completely word vomiting his explanation to you across the water.

But before he could apologize again or continue his ramble, you moved quickly across the hot tub, slotting yourself low, down at his level and between his wide spread legs. He opens his eyes when he feels you floating in his space, noses almost touching, chins just under the bubbling water, and you are eye to eye now. He hesitates, thrown off by your proximity, before smashing his lips into yours. It's rough and sloppy and the water is sloshing everywhere as he brings you in closer by the hips so your legs settle in on each side of his.

And he can't help it, he breaks away and starts in again on it "I'm sorry, I - oh my God" he gasps out as you cut him off by grinding your bikini clad core down hard on his dick.

"I swear to God Harrington, if you apologize one more time I'm climbing off right this second" he nods, enthusiastically, fervently as you reach down into the water, between both of your legs and give him a nice firm squeeze. His eyes roll back in his head and he gasps.

"I swear I'm not apologizing, but Jesus Christ, I don't deserve this. You - I don't deserve you but not even this little bit - Fuck!" You grab his shoulder tight, holding on to give your hips another firm roll back and forth and decide to get a little soft and card your free hand through his hair as he babbles.

"I know what you see when you look at me - ah, sh-shit" you roll again but he reaches up and grabs both sides of your face to get you to stop and look at him "I know who I was, but I know you like to make me remember it too, so I never thought… I know I'm better. Fuck, I know it, but I don't know why anyone who knows how I was back then even gives me the time of day. "

You reach up and grab the sides of his face, too. Challenging his unwavering eye contact with your own, you lean in and give him the softest kiss he could have ever imagined, raking your hands back through his hair and tilting his head back a bit to look up at you. From this angle he sees the stars behind you and questions what kind of penance he did these past few years to deserve this moment.

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