#anyway. hi. serious chapter with serious conversation and so on.

[joeliz99]

“You, Always.”- Danny Ramirez

Warnings: Slowburn, Friends to lovers, RPF fic, Fluff, Multi-part series

(In case you missed the first four chapters, click here)

Part Two

Where we begin again

Fifth Chapter

Three months after NYC. A summer in Miami. No time like the present.

Danny was back in his hometown for two weeks, a short but much-needed break before diving back into work and a massive new project that awaited him. The first few days were spent with family, relaxing and recharging. But as his second and final week approached, he couldn’t shake the thought of (Y/N), who now lived in Miami as well. He hadn’t heard from her since he’d texted her his number, and since both of them were over-thinkers, they hadn’t managed to spark a real conversation over text.

That night, lying in bed, Danny couldn’t help but reach out, sending her a text message before he regretted it for good.

"Hey (Initial)! Hope you're doing well. I’m in town for a couple of weeks and thought it’d be nice to catch up if you're up for it. Let me know what you think. See you soon! :)"

When (Y/N) saw his message, she froze for a moment. It had been a while since they last spoke, and she hadn’t expected him to reach out after sometime. She’d wanted to respond right away, but her schedule was packed. Hours passed, and though she saw the ‘read’ status on her phone, she couldn’t find the right words or moment to just do it.

Danny, after noticing hours had passed, began to doubt himself. Maybe he had misread the whole scenario. Perhaps she really wasn’t as interested in reconnecting as he’d hoped.

In reality, it wasnt that she wasn’t interested. She was just busy and, honestly, a little overwhelmed by it all. The next evening, after mentally editing her response a few times, she hit ‘send.’

"Hey! Sorry for the late reply. I’ve been caught up this weekend, but let’s plan something for the week. What are you in the mood for?"

Thursday of that same week, (Y/N) hurried through the streets of Miami, trying to get to the ice cream shop on time. Of course, today of all days, everyone at the office had needed something from her, pushing her lunch break nearly twenty minutes late. Now, someone was already waiting for her.

As she neared the shop, she slowed her pace, taking a deep breath to regain her composure. Outside, Danny sat at a table, focused on his phone, his posture relaxed. (Y/N) adjusted her purse and walked toward him, catching his attention as she approached.

“Oh hey! You made it.” A smile spread across his face as he stood, greeting her with a side hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I’m so, so sorry. Work’s been crazy today—I hope you don’t mind the change of plans.”

Danny laughed, shaking his head. “Not at all. I’m chill with whatever. It’s good to see you.”

(Y/N) smiled as they headed inside, scanning the array of ice cream flavors.

“You eat anything yet?” Danny asked after a beat.

She shook her head, still focused on the options in front of her.

“Want to grab something else first?”

“What? No, no. I’m good. Ice cream’s better than real food anyway.”

Danny shot her a half-smile, clearly unconvinced. She caught the look and glanced back at him.

“I like your hair,” she said, changing the subject. “It looks longer than the last time I saw you. Actually, I think this is the longest I’ve ever seen it on you.”

“Oh, yeah.” He ran a hand through it absently. “I have to shave it all off for a project, so I figured I’d just let it do its thing for now.”

“Are you serious? What a waste of good lucious hair.”

Danny laughed, shaking his head as they paused to place their orders.

Outside the day felt warm and with a thick scent of freshly baked waffle cones wafting from the shop behind them. (Y/N) and Danny sat down on a bench and entertained themselves in a casual conversation while the occasional murmur of passing conversations mixed with the distant hum of traffic.

“So, I’m kind of curious… Where do you work again? I don’t think we ever talked about that.”

(Y/N) pulled the spoon from her mouth, tilting her head as she considered the question. “I work at a marketing agency as a Content Production Assistant. I handle all the audio editing for their productions and stuff like that.”

Danny hummed, nodding as he swirled his spoon through the melting edges of his ice cream. “That sounds cool. Do you like it?”

She hesitated. “I guess… yeah. It’s not exactly where I want to be, but I don’t mind it. It pays the bills, I’m getting real-world experience, and I’ve gotten more comfortable with my work. I just wish I had more time for my own projects.”

Danny took a slow breath, his gaze drifting toward her, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’ll get there,” he said. “When I got out of college, I struggled bad. At one point, I was juggling three jobs while still trying to stay on top of auditions and callbacks. I was desperate for anything.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “It took me a long time to get to where I am now, and honestly? I still feel like I’m barely getting by.”

“Shut up.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes with a smile. “You’re doing amazing.”

Danny turned to her with a smirk, tapping his spoon against his cup. “Yeah? So that means you’ve seen me on TV?”

Her posture stiffened. She licked her lips, suddenly more focused on her ice cream as she stole a quick glance at him.

“Ohhh, so you have!” His grin widened.

“Uhh…” She stayed quiet, gauging his reaction. “Actually… I haven’t. Like… at all.”

Danny’s smile faltered. “Wait, are you serious?”

(Y/N) bit her lip, suppressing a laugh when she noticed the slight flush creeping onto his cheeks.

“This is embarrassing… Why would you say I’m good if you’ve never seen me?!”

“Because!” She laughed, nudging him with her elbow. “I’ve seen you in your element. I know you’re good.”

Danny exhaled dramatically, slouching back against the bench. “Okay. I’m done with this conversation.”

“No, no! Wait.” She nudged him again, her grin playful. “I actually do want to know what you’re working on. Are you gonna tell me about your next project?”

Danny turned his head slightly, giving her an exaggerated, unimpressed look before shaking his head.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be such a baby, Danny. I said I’m sorry.” She playfully punched his arm, and though he said nothing, a small smile crept onto his face.

“Well, it’s good that you’re sorry… but I really can’t say anything for legal reasons.”

“Oh.” She blinked at him.

Danny smirked, barely holding back a laugh.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait until it’s out in theaters.”

(Y/N) was about to fire back a playful remark, entertained by the easy rhythm of their conversation, when her phone started to ring. She ignored it at first, hoping it would stop on its own. It did—only for a series of text messages to pop up on her screen.

Her eyes scanned the messages quickly, and as she reached the last one, her expression shifted.

“Are you serious?” she muttered, exhaling sharply as she read it again.

Danny, catching the change in her demeanor, leaned slightly toward her. “You have to go?”

She nodded with a frown. “Yeah… Apparently, my lunch break was supposed to be shorter today whether I wanted to or not. We have a last-minute client meeting, and I have to be there.” The disappointment was clear in her voice. “I’m really sorry, Danny.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” He smiled, already standing up and taking the empty cup from her hands to toss it in the trash. “At least we got to hang out for a bit. We’ll plan something next time I’m in Miami.”

“Right… Sure.” She tried to return his smile, though it came out a little sheepish. Leaning in, the girl gave him a small hug. “Thanks for reaching out. We’ll stay in touch, alright?”

“Sounds good to me. Now go before they call you again.”

(Y/N) nodded, waving once before hurrying back toward her job. Danny stood there for a beat, hands in his pockets, watching her go before turning in the opposite direction.

But as she walked, something nagged at her. It had all felt too short and too fast. Even more-so when she had taken her sweet time to actually plan something decent with him. And now, the reality settled in—she probably wouldn’t see him again for months. Maybe longer.

Before she could overthink it, she pulled out her phone and dialed his number.

Danny glanced at his screen, momentarily confused. Had she called by mistake? Still, he answered.

“You butt-dialed me or something?” His laughter was the first thing she heard.

“No, not really.” She hesitated only for a second. “When exactly are you leaving Miami?”

“In two days.” His tone shifted slightly, curiosity creeping in. “Why?”

“Are you busy tomorrow afternoon?”

“Uh, no, not really. I was just gonna spend the day with my mom. Why?”

“Would she hate me if I stole you for a couple of hours?”

Danny let out a chuckle. “I doubt she’d hate you for any reason in the world, to be honest.”

(Y/N) smiled, knowing damn well he was right about that.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow after five. I’ll send you the details later, okay?”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss (Initial).”

“See you tomorrow. Bye.”

As she hung up, a smile tugged at her lips, her chest suddenly feeling lighter. What she didn’t know was that on the other end of the call, Danny felt the exact same way. After all, maybe going back to being friends wasn’t going to be as hard as it seemed.

The next day rolled in, and thankfully, (Y/N) was on time and much more relaxed than the day before. She waited at the park, casually snacking as she watched people stroll by, some walking, others riding bikes along the path. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the scene, and the usual Miami heat had softened under the evening breeze.

Just as a new playlist started playing in her earphones, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She pulled out one earbud and glanced over her shoulder.

“Hey,” Danny greeted her with an easy smile.

“Oh, hi!” Her own smile mirrored his as she took a quick look at him from head to toe, checking if he was dressed for the occasion. He was—comfortable athletic wear, a hat, and, as always, the same chain resting on his chest.

“Let’s go. We’ve got places to be!” she announced, already starting to walk.

Danny chuckled, shaking his head at how naturally she spoke to him, as if they had just seen each other minutes ago. He followed her lead, still unsure of their destination, until they stopped in front of a rollerblade rental shop.

“You’re kidding.” He looked from the skates to her, eyebrows raised. “Are we roller skating?”

(Y/N) nodded nonchalantly.

He let out a laugh. “Did it even cross your mind that I might not know how to do that?”

“You don’t?” She tilted her head, though she didn’t seem all that concerned.

“I do,” he admitted. “But you didn’t know that.”

“I guessed.” She simply shrugged. “ I don’t, by the way. Figured it would be a good time to try it out.”

Danny stared at her, half amused, half baffled. “Bro, what? Are you crazy?” He laughed again, shaking his head. “I cannot wait to see how this ends. You’re unbelievable.”

(Y/N) finally laughed, not bothering to argue as she went ahead with the rental process. Before he could protest further, she handed him a pair of skates and dragged him back toward the park, just steps away from Miami Beach.

They sat on a bench, helping each other lace up their skates. Danny stood first, testing his balance before extending both hands toward her.

“Alright, come on,” he said, steady and sure. “Let’s see if you survive this.”

(Y/N) took his hands, already laughing as she wobbled to her feet.

The moment (Y/N) was fully standing, she realized she had made a mistake.

Her feet wobbled dangerously beneath her, rolling in opposite directions as she clung onto Danny’s hands for dear life.

“Oh—oh no, wait—” she stammered, trying to steady herself.

Danny, already grinning, barely held back a laugh.

“Oh, this is bad” he said dramatically, his grip tightening to keep her upright. “I thought I was gonna have to help you a little but you might actually die.”

“Shut up!” she whined, struggling to find her balance. “This is harder than it looks!”

Danny, completely at ease on his skates, skated backward while still holding onto her, making it look effortless.”

“See, the key is—”

Before he could finish his sentence, (Y/N) yelped as her foot slid forward too fast, and just like that—bam—she hit the pavement.

For a split second, there was silence.

Then, Danny lost it

“Oh my god—” He doubled over, laughing so hard he had to brace himself against his knees. “That was amazing. I wish I had my phone out.”

(Y/N) groaned from the ground. “ Can you please not?! “

“No, no, I’m motivating you,” he said between chuckles, offering her a hand. “Come on, get up. Let’s try this again.”

She took his hand and, with his help, got back on her feet. This time, she lasted about ten seconds before her legs betrayed her again.

Thud.

Danny clutched his stomach, laughing even harder.

“I swear—” (Y/N) glared at him from the ground. “If you laugh one more time—”

“Sorry, sorry!” He wiped a fake tear from his eye. “I’m done, I swear. Come on champ. Get up.”

He held out a hand again, and after a second, she narrowed her eyes at him but took it anyway.

“Alright,” This time Danny pulled her closer so she had no choice but to hold onto his shoulders for support. “We’re gonna take this slow. No sudden movements.”

(Y/N) nodded seriously, gripping onto him like her life depended on it.

“Good.” He smirked. “Now… say ‘Wheee!’”

She blinked. “What?”

He suddenly pushed off, skating forward with her clinging onto him.

“Danny, NO!”

Her scream echoed through the park as he burst out laughing all over again.

Two very long hours passed—and after an embarrassing number of falls—(Y/N) finally started to get the hang of it. She still wasn’t graceful, and Danny never missed an opportunity to have fun with it, but at least she could move without immediately wiping out.

By the time they returned their skates, both of them were starving. So, without much thought, they walked to a nearby burger spot, grabbed their food, and made their way to the now-dark beach.

The sound of the waves filled the quiet space as they sat down on the sand, shoes off, letting the night breeze cool them down. Danny took a big bite of his burger, chewing thoughtfully before turning to (Y/N).

"Alright, I’ll admit it," he said, stretching his legs out in front of him. "That was way more fun than I expected. Even if you’re all bruised up and traumatized after it.

(Y/N) scoffed, nudging his arm. "You know what? You’re actually a hater. There’s no need to mention that stuff.”

Danny laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. But seriously, this was great. We need to do it again."

(Y/N) smiled, resting her chin on her knee as she looked out at the water. "I’d love to. Just gotta figure out when we’ll actually be in the same city again."

Danny hummed in agreement. "Yeah… schedules are a pain. But we’ll make it work. Even if it takes months, we’ll plan something.”

"Deal," (Y/N) said, holding out her pinky.

Danny grinned and locked his pinky with hers without hesitation. "Deal."

For a moment, neither of them said anything, just enjoying the cool breeze and the comfortable ease between them.

However long it took, they both knew this wouldn’t be the last time.

————————————-

Still wanting to read more? Here are some other Danny’s shots to read. You’re welcome!!!

[ruvviks]

Chapter >> 13 [x] Characters >> Cato Wu (oc), Eddie Wolfe (oc), Judy Álvarez, Mikhail Koshechkin (oc), Rogue Amendiares, Vitali Dobrynin (oc), a long list of side characters Total >> 6.6k words Warnings >> Alcohol, blood, brainwashing mention, death, descriptions of suffocation, injuries, violence

The sun had long set, the sky a deep, dark blue color yet too polluted with light and fumes to show any of the stars it held. Bright beams of advertisements between skyscrapers and Megabuildings illuminated the city and even at that hour of the night the streets were crowded and full of life.

Truly a place that never slept.

Tucked away between buildings in Watson, muffled music rose up from the underground club the Afterlife. Especially busy that day; for no particular reason, though the entrance itself was already crowded enough to signal to anyone who wanted to enter what the rest of the club’s grounds would be like.

The bright neon lights above the entrance flickered lightly when a car came to a stop on the club’s parking lot. Some curious glances in its direction- innocent, mostly, simply the gazes of those wondering who had arrived.

Though those very same gazes lingered just a little longer when three people exited the car- one of them dressed in a deep red suit with golden accents and stitched embroidery of flowers decorating the back of the jacket, and the other two in full combat gear- and slowly made their way inside.

The Afterlife was known to be the place for mercenaries and fixers to discuss business; no one would bat an eye upon seeing even the most popular of fixers- or the most infamous, for that matter- enter and make themselves right at home.

Though this was different.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Slicked back bleached hair; recently cut, a few loose strands covering a freckled forehead. Head held high, shoulders pushed back and a black cane with the same golden details as the ones decorating the suit in a gloved left hand and two piercing blueish gray eyes staring straight ahead, ignoring the stares of the rest of the club’s clientele.

Vitali Dobrynin was not a fixer often seen at the club. Most if not all of his business took place in his own office building in Wellsprings, far away from the prying eyes of nosy mercs looking to only half-commit to a job and jump ship with their payment before the contract would end.

Though people talked about him. Many visitors of the Afterlife did not want to work for him- believed him to be a faulty fixer still knee deep into the corpo life, ignoring the fact he had managed to build everything he now had up from ground level with nothing but hard-earned eddies from his own time as a merc.

Especially now, with the Broker running around; with ties to that very same Vitali Dobrynin, mercenaries rumored to work for him wreaking havoc in Night City not too long ago- and especially after that very same Vitali Dobrynin had supposedly worked for Arasaka again, about half a year back.

Rumors, rumors, rumors.

Nobody there knew Vitali had been brainwashed by the corporation, used like a puppet by them to try and tie up the final loose end of the disaster with the Relic. Nobody there knew the mercenaries in question no longer worked for Vitali, and now worked for the Broker instead.

And nobody there knew the Broker was not Vitali himself, but no one other than his very own father.

But that was about to change.

‘Eyes on the prize, boss. Milf spotted in the back booth, left of the bar.’

‘Cato, can you please be respectful for once in your life?’

Mikhail’s voice was only barely audible to Vitali over the noises surrounding them, earpiece in his right ear and earplug in his left. His friend’s exasperated comment was merely met with laughter from Eddie- there with them in the Afterlife- and Judy- on the other side of comms, with Cato.

‘Aw, come on, Mish- Am I wrong?’ Cato playfully asked. ‘Rogue’s a hot piece of ass, everyone can see that! ‘s Not as if she can hear me from all the way over there, anyway.’

‘Usually we try to handle these kinds of operations with a bit more…elegance,’ Vitali responded as he slowly maneuvered through the crowd, a greeting nod in Claire’s direction as he passed her by. ‘But, you have a point. So I’ll allow it- this once.’

‘See? Even the boss can appreciate- Wait, what?’

Vitali reached for his earpiece, switching channels with a hint of a smile lingering on his face as he stopped at the far end of the bar, carefully lowering himself on one of the barstools. Claire had followed along and reached for a bottle to pour him the usual- but Vitali caught her gaze and signed a quick “just some water, please” before she could lift it up.

‘She’s still busy at the moment from what I can tell,’ Judy said over comms, Cato’s confused stammering still slightly audible in the background. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to send her a quick ping? Both you and V are on her good side. Shouldn’t be an issue.’

‘Thank you, Judy, but it’s alright.’ Vitali smiled at Claire and swiftly stopped the glass of water shoved into his direction from sliding any further. ‘The Council does not need to know about my visit to her. Off the records. Surely she will understand.’

‘Your call, jefe. I’ll let you know when there’s a window.’

Mikhail and Eddie stood on either of Vitali’s sides as the minutes slowly passed by. He had not wanted to bring them along; but Vincent had not allowed him to visit the club all by himself and had even threatened to come after him were he to try it anyway.

In hindsight, it had been a good decision. It had been a long time since the last time he had walked in there; well over a year now, as a matter of fact. Vitali knew he wasn’t liked and he knew he had to watch his step in there, well aware it would not have to take much for him to end up with a bullet or two between his eyes.

Eddie leaned backwards against the bar, elbows on the counter as he slightly tilted his head toward his boss to get his attention. He gave him a playful wink the second Vitali’s gaze met his, and in return Vitali softly slapped him with the glove he had taken off, right before shoving it into his pocket.

‘What are we here for anyway, if I may ask?’ Eddie asked, a grin on their face as they bumped their hip against Vitali’s thigh. ‘Talking to Rogue. Not really your style, considering- well, you know.’

‘Things were different back then,’ Vitali answered, crossing his arms on the bar and leaning on them a little as he shifted position on his seat. ‘Through…unfortunate events, we have history now. And I- I need to talk to her about the Broker. Who they are.’

Eddie slowly nodded, their gaze trailing their surroundings as they checked if anyone was trying to listen in. Vitali finished his drink in the meantime and fiddled with it a little, the rings on his right hand softly ticking against the glass.

‘I am hoping to clear my own name,’ he continued, ‘call in the Council. Not sure if it is even possible in these times, but- I need to speak to them. Situation might escalate again soon and I would like to have things sorted out before that happens.’

‘Understandable.’ Eddie made brief eye contact with Mikhail and gave him a solid nod and Vitali briefly glanced over his shoulder, just in time to see his friend wander off into the crowd. ‘You think she’ll help?’

‘I sure hope so. Though with my track record of “getting help” these days I feel like it’s not going to lead to anything. But at least I’ll have tried.’

Even the act of visiting the Afterlife was already a big risk Vitali was taking and he knew it; yet nobody had been able to talk the idea out of his head. Another dumb mistake, possibly- but who would he be if he would not even give it a try?

‘Boss? Trouble.’

Vitali instantly perked up, first glancing at Eddie and then quickly turning around on his seat to assess the situation.

Mikhail had started making his way back to the two of them but had been stopped by- someone Vitali did not recognize, from that distance at least. A tall, muscular enough man with blond hair, wearing DIY combat gear over a jumpsuit; almost as if he was an NPC that had somehow wandered its way straight out of a video game.

Vitali tightened his jaw and hopped from his seat, grabbing his cane before slowly making his way over to the two men. A small crowd had formed around them, for some reason; friends, possibly, or just random bystanders waiting for a show.

‘Gentlemen,’ Vitali said, raising his voice slightly to make himself audible over the partially incoherent yelling of the man. He stopped, turning his head to look at Vitali- who used the split second of silence to his advantage and gently tugged Mikhail on his sleeve, positioning himself between his friend and the man despite the fact Mikhail was suited up for exactly these kinds of situations and he himself very much was not.

‘Can I help you?’ Vitali asked, and watched as a wide grin spread on the man’s face. He pointed at Vitali and turned to look at some others- they all looked like mercs of some sort on closer inspection. A gang, perhaps? Though Vitali had never seen them before in his life.

‘Been lookin’ for you,’ the man said, wagging his finger around in Vitali’s face before moving it over to Mikhail behind him. ‘That motherfucker screwed me over. You’re the big man in charge, right? I want my eddies back.’

It only took Vitali a fraction of a second to realize what he meant- A job done in the time he had been in Arizona with Vincent, when Mikhail had temporarily taken on the role as fixer to keep business going.

‘I’m sorry- screwed you over?’ Mikhail repeated and scoffed. ‘You provided us with shady, unreliable information, your informants didn’t show up and you nearly got several of our mercs killed. You should be glad I decided to let you walk away from the situation alive, you fucking-’

‘Alright, alright,’ Vitali gently interrupted him and raised his hand, ignoring the whispering and laughing of the crowd surrounding them. ‘Any of that true, sir?’

‘Well, I- uh-’ The man paused, visibly clenching his jaw as he straightened his back, towering high over Vitali; a weak attempt at intimidation, perhaps, though it did him very little and he merely patiently waited for his answer.

He knew his absence had not been easy for Mikhail and he knew not every job had gone as smoothly as they had usually gone, before his sudden departure. Did not blame him for it either, if anyone had to take the blame it would be Vitali himself and he had made sure Mikhail knew he had done everything he could and any trouble they would get because of it would not be his problem to deal with.

Hence why Vitali stood there now, positioned between Mikhail and the man- who was visibly starting to become more frustrated and took a few jumpy steps back as he ran his hand over his face and shook his head.

‘Listen,’ he said, once again pointing his finger in Vitali’s direction. ‘I’ma give you to the count of five, and if I don’t have my eddies back by then- all three thousand of ‘em- that dark red suit o’ yours is gonna be red for vastly different reasons.’

‘Really now?’ Vitali asked, raising his eyebrow and slightly tilting his head, a smile taking shape on his face as he let his eyes trail the crowd; people were starting to get rowdy, starting to cheer. A rush of adrenaline was already soaring through his system, reminding him of the street fights he used to participate in-

Sure, he was there for business now. But he could have a little bit of fun.

‘One!’ the guy yelled, his voice barely audible above the buzz of the club, the music suddenly a lot louder than before; though it could just be Vitali’s imagination, straightening his back and redistributing his weight to his left leg while grabbing his cane halfway down the shaft.

‘Two!’

‘You sure you’re going to do this, jefe?’ Judy asked. ‘Viktor’s gonna kill you.’

‘Only if I get hurt,’ Vitali replied, rolling back his neck as the man yelled out a loud three, dragging it out a little bit longer as if he was trying to give Vitali time to reconsider.

Another day, another client turning against him. Far from the first time and far from the last; though usually Vitali dealt with these sorts of things with a bit more finesse than he was about to do.

‘Four!’

He did not care. His reputation preceded him; the bruising of his knuckles as dark as the rims underneath his eyes, everyone knew Vitali Dobrynin was a fighter first and a fixer second. All to protect, all out of love- but no one cared about that. They only ever saw what was on show.

‘FIVE!’

The man wasted no time and went for a swing- and Vitali intercepted his arm with his cane with ease, hitting it from the side and causing the elbow to bend the wrong way. He swiftly stepped aside, allowing the man to stumble past him and he used the momentum to kick him down to the ground.

Accidentally used his right leg for it. It hurt a lot more than he had anticipated.

Vitali noticed people reaching for their weapons and glanced at Mikhail and Eddie who immediately drew their guns, keeping the crowd under control. The man was on the floor now- squirming, cursing and coughing his lungs out as he clutched his broken arm close to his body.

‘You have some nerve, I’ll give you that,’ Vitali said, tossing his cane aside and taking off his jacket. ‘Endangering the lives of my mercenaries with faulty information and then crawling back on your knees to beg for your fucking eddies. I should stuff them up your ass. Deliver your body in a box to your parents.’

‘Every job comes with risks, man!’ the guy cried out, trying to scramble to his feet as Vitali rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and walked closer. ‘Look- Sure, maybe I could’a been a bit more careful with some things, provide more detes, but-’

Vitali set his foot down on the man’s hand before he could finish his sentence and a strangled cry left his throat. He leaned forward and reached for his collar- but before he could get close enough, two pairs of strong hands grabbed him by his arms and violently dragged him back.

The world spun around him as a fist collided with his jaw and only a split second later he was face down on the floor, people screaming and cheering around him. Oh, and it felt good- the stinging pain burning through his muscles and the taste of blood in his mouth and he pushed himself back up on feet with a grin decorating his face.

A man and woman had joined the fray- both twice his size with biceps about as big as his head- and Vitali steadied himself and with a single blink of his eyes he was suddenly looking directly at Jackie and Viktor instead, a bright and warm sunday morning in the ring.

‘Watch your footing, Vito,’ Viktor said. ‘Can’t have you gettin’ swept off your feet before you can even land a hit.’

Vitali spat some blood on the floor and dodged another incoming swing, balling his fist and ramming it between the woman’s ribs before running straight into the man and shoving him violently into the wall. His hair was grabbed and yanked back- but it did nothing as he turned his head and sank his teeth as deep into the man’s wrist as he possibly could, until he let him go.

‘Dirty fighter, huh, V?’ Jackie grinned up at him as Vitali pinned him to the ground. ‘And right you are- Night City don’t play by the rules, either.’

The woman kicked him hard on his leg- his right leg once again, causing him to wince in pain and nearly sink through his knees. She wrapped her arm around his neck and lifted him from the floor, squeezing as hard as she could and he could feel his windpipe getting crushed.

Tears sprung in his eyes as he dragged his nails over the woman’s arm, cutting into skin and flesh and drawing blood but not nearly enough to cause her to let him go. He swung his leg back and managed to kick her in the crotch- with barely any effect- but she slightly loosened her grip giving him just enough space to push his arm between the two of them and elbow her hard in the chest.

He was dropped to the floor and landed painfully on his knees, coughing and wheezing as he tried to catch his breath. The man had regained himself in the meantime and walked forward- and without warning went for a kick, hitting Vitali in his ribs.

He grabbed the man’s foot and rolled to the side, dragging him along and causing him to fall backwards and hit his head hard on the concrete floor. The woman tried to stomp on him- but Vitali was a lot faster and dodged her foot, then reached for his belt, flicked out a knife and stabbed it through her shoe as hard as he could.

He was back on his feet within seconds, the world only slightly spinning as he swayed from side to side and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The woman had yanked the knife out of her foot, cursing loudly at him as she swung it around and then hurled it through the air-

‘You need to be quicker.’ Viktor smiled gently as he extended his hand, and Vitali begrudgingly took it and allowed the man to pull him back to his feet. ‘Reflexes are key, Vito. You’re agile, you’re perceptive; use that to your advantage.’

Vitali caught it.

He licked his lips as he carefully twirled the knife between his fingers, watching the blood drain from the woman’s face right before she quickly raised her hands in defense and took a few steps back until she was once again part of the crowd.

People were a little bit quieter, now. The man on the floor hadn’t moved yet.

Vitali absently wiped the knife on his pants as he redirected his attention to the man who had started it all; still sitting on the floor, holding his arm tightly and looking even more pathetic than he had done a few minutes ago. The second he realized Vitali was looking at him, he made another attempt at scrambling to his feet- but slipped on the little pool of blood that had taken shape underneath the head of the man lying dead at his feet and he fell down on his ass again.

‘If I can’t even beat the two of you, I’ll never make it out there.’ Vitali tilted his head up and allowed Jackie to pinch the bridge of his nose for him, while holding a tissue up against it.

‘Just give it time, mano,’ Jackie simply answered, and playfully kicked his foot against the side of his friend’s leg. ‘You tackled me to the floor just now like I weighed nothing- you couldn’t do that a month ago.’

Vitali walked over to the man and grabbed his collar- then seemingly without effort dragged him on his feet and tossed him on one of the benches to his right, only to then ram him violently into the wall and climb on top of him.

‘It’s funny,’ he sneered, leaning in until his forehead nearly touched that of the other man. ‘You even admit that you were in the wrong. Do you truly think that will save you?’

‘You’re fucking insane!’ the man yelled back at him, struggling in his grip- but his broken arm prevented him from doing anything, and with Vitali straddling his lap there was nowhere for him to flee.

‘Piece of- corpo trash! Fucking- Get off of me!’

‘Shh,’ Vitali gently shushed him, letting the back of his fingers run over the man’s cheek- leaving behind a trail of dark red blood. He wasn’t even sure if it was his own or someone else’s.

‘Just let me go, man! I won’t bother you again, I swear!’

‘I know, I know.’ Vitali paused, and he felt the eyes from nearly everyone in the club on his back. Could almost hear their thoughts, could feel their judgment like acid burning through his skin-

‘But you almost got my mercenaries killed. And I can’t let that go unpunished.’

And he balled his fist, and let his knuckles collide with the man’s jaw.

One hit.

Two hit.

Three hit.

He grabbed his collar again, ignoring the blood dripping out of the man’s mouth and his eyes rolling back in their sockets. Wanted to speak- but then noticed the man reaching for his knife and grabbed his hand before he could get to it, twisting it around and pinning it against the wall.

‘Alright, enough!’

A sudden silence washed over the crowd and Vitali slowly turned his head. People had stepped aside- to make room for no one other than Rogue Amendiares, her arms crossed in front of her chest as she slowly let her gaze move over the scene playing out in front of her.

‘Show’s over, everyone get back to your fucking business,’ she said. ‘Vitali, get off the man. You got your point across.’

Vitali clenched his jaw and turned back to his victim, who was only barely conscious anymore. He slowly let go of the man’s wrist and instead firmly gripped a handful of his hair, to yank his head up and look him in the eyes.

‘Did I?’ he asked, slightly tilting his head again- adrenaline still coursing through his veins yet his heartbeat as stable as ever.

The man weakly nodded in response.

Vitali slowly got up and stepped back, exhaustion instantly washing over him the second his body realized the conflict was over. Mikhail carefully walked closer to him- and after brief eye contact as confirmation handed him his cane again, his jacket held tightly underneath his arm.

Breathe in, breathe out.

‘I’m surprised to see you here,’ Rogue said, turning back around and making her way back to her booth, gesturing for Vitali to follow her. ‘Thought this place was- how did you word it? “Not your style”?’

‘Times change, Rogue, you know that,’ Vitali coldly responded, wincing a little as he set his right foot down and he leaned heavily on his cane while following her down the steps.

‘Just fuckin’ with you, kid. Here.’

Rogue turned around, snatching a tissue from a box on the table and she grabbed his chin to keep his head still- and he allowed her to wipe the blood off his face.

Last time Vitali had been to the Afterlife, he had asked Rogue for help- had needed information on the Relic and had thought she would be willing to provide that in exchange for eddies, or resources, whatever she desired; one fixer to another.

But given his history with Arasaka she had not been willing to even sit down for a conversation with him. Which he had understood, mostly- but in all his desperation to find a way to save Vincent’s life, he had not handled the rejection very well. And that was putting it lightly.

‘What brings you here?’ Rogue asked, tapping Vitali’s chin the moment she finished and sitting down on the couch of the booth, gesturing for him to follow her lead. ‘Doubt you showed up just to put on a nice show for the regulars.’

‘Needed to see you.’ Vitali sat down and briefly glanced into the rest of the club, watching Eddie and Mikhail take their positions at the opening of the booth, turned sideways to both keep an eye on their surroundings as well as Vitali himself.

‘That’s one way to get my attention. Could’ve called.’

‘Would like the Council to not know about my visit here.’

‘My lips are sealed. Let’s hope the dead don’t learn how to talk in the meantime.’

Vitali clenched his jaw, eyes once again momentarily pulled to the outside of the booth as the body of the man who had attacked him was carried outside. He hadn’t meant for that to happen, of course; but it also did not do him much. He had other, more pressing matters to worry about.

‘How are you doing?’ he asked, biting the inside of his cheek as he turned back to Rogue.

‘Oh, cut the bullshit, Vito-’ She leaned forward and shook her head. ‘To the point. What do you want?’

‘The Broker is my father.’

Silence washed over the booth and something about Rogue’s expression changed- softened, almost, before she clenched her jaw and a frown slowly took shape on her face.

‘Matvey Dobrynin,’ Vitali quietly continued. ‘He’s doing all of this.’

The last thing he wanted was for the Council to find out about that. But he needed Rogue to know; he knew she was the only one who would believe him when he would tell her he had nothing to do with it, and with her on his side he could finally have a chance at clearing his name.

‘Shit,’ Rogue said, dropping her head briefly and sighing. ‘Must’a been quite a shock.’

‘I’ve found peace with it,’ Vitali replied, crossing his legs and sinking back into the cushions of the couch. ‘Complicated family.’

He clicked his tongue and Mikhail walked closer, handing Vitali his jacket. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a datashard; and after a brief moment of hesitation he handed it to Rogue, who slowly brought it to the slot behind her ear.

‘Evidence,’ Vitali simply said, watching the rings around her pupils light up bright blue. ‘The attack, those mercs- ex-mercenaries of mine. They no longer work for me. Left my network during my absence and my father used this to his advantage to win them over, turn them against me.’

‘He’s behind it all and tryin’ to frame you for it,’ Rogue slowly said. ‘Clever.’

‘The Council cannot know it’s my father, but- I need them to know that it is not me.’ Vitali paused, sucking in a shallow breath as he watched Rogue pull the shard out again. ‘I don’t need their help- I can handle this myself- I just don’t want them as my enemies, either.’

‘I understand.’ Rogue gently placed the shard on the table, visibly thinking, her leg lightly bouncing up and down. ‘Have you heard anything new? Any developments?’

‘Nothing new as of right now,’ Judy said in Vitali’s ear. ‘Only what we picked up earlier.’

‘There’s been chatter, the past few days,’ Vitali said. ‘Matvey is preparing another attack- I don’t know when, or where, but something is happening again. We’re monitoring the situation as best as we can but whatever it is he’s planning, he is going to try and put the blame on me.’

They had not picked up much yet; too vague bits and pieces of conversations, encrypted messages, snippets of plans. Piecing together what Matvey was working on would require a lot more information and Vitali knew that very well- but knowing things were being set in motion again at the earliest notice at least helped him prepare himself and his mercs alike.

But he was not there to talk about what his father had planned out for him.

‘I want to defend my case, to the Council,’ Vitali slowly said, swallowing heavily and gesturing at the datashard on the table. ‘That is why I came to see you. I was hoping you could- I don’t know, arrange a meeting. Call them together. Just- an hour of everyone’s time, and-’

‘I can’t do that.’

Rogue’s voice was strict, as always- though surprisingly gentle at that, and she couldn’t look Vitali in his eyes as she shook her head.

‘Too dangerous,’ she continued, and slowly leaned forward to move a little closer to him. ‘One thing we know is that the Broker is targeting fixers. You specifically now- and I’m startin’ to see why- but the Council isn’t paying attention to that. Say we get everyone together, what if he attacks? Half the Council dead. Your point proven, but at what cost?’

Vitali leaned forward too and lowered his gaze, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to keep his breathing stable as what he had already feared for became reality right in front of him.

‘A lot of ‘em are trying to lay low until the situation’s over,’ Rogue quietly explained. ‘They’re scared, Vito. Won’t ever admit it, but I know they are. I can present the evidence you put on that shard, put in a good word for you, but- that’s all I can do right now. We gotta wait for the situation to settle down, first.’

Vitali understood.

Of course he did; deep down he was scared too and if he could disappear and wait for his father to just give up and leave him alone, then he would do that in a heartbeat.

But how many more people would get injured or lose their lives were he to do that? How much more of Night City would end up in rubble, how many more attacks would take place? How far was Matvey willing to go, just to get his revenge?

‘Just don’t mention that it’s my father,’ Vitali quietly said, as he slowly looked up again. ‘I can’t have them know.’

‘I know. Secret’s safe with me.’

Silence fell over the booth once more and Rogue reached out for the bottle of liquor on the table, to fill up her own glass. She grabbed a second one, put it close to Vitali and gave him a questioning look- he merely shook his head in response, fingernails digging deep into the palm of his hand on his lap.

‘What’s your plan?’ she asked, picking up her own glass and taking a swig.

‘Not sure yet,’ Vitali honestly answered and slowly sank back into the couch again. ‘Cards are finally on the table now, that’s a start. I know what- who- I am up against. I just need to get closer again. One last time.’

‘Good luck with that.’ Rogue paused, slightly twirling her glass around and causing the ice cubes in it to softly clink against the sides. ‘Whatever you do, though, do it quickly. It’s been going on for long enough. People are getting restless.’

‘I know. Eager to blame me for it?’

‘Some of them are. That Dinovic especially- the cunt’s got beef with you, from what I could gather. What’d you do?’

‘Threatened him at his stupid fucking bar after he dared to withhold V his payment following a gig gone wrong because of his own fucked up intel.’

‘Yeah, that’ll do it.’

About a year had passed since that unfortunate incident, but Vitali knew Dino could hold a serious grudge. Not that he cared at all- the man meant very little to him and were he to ever try something like he had again, Vitali could not guarantee he would leave the fixer alive.

He stared at the shard on the table in front of him for a while as Rogue slowly finished her drink, and listened to the noises of the rest of the club. He mostly just heard the music again- even within the booth he’d had a hard time hearing Rogue speak on occasion, but at that point he could read lips well enough to manage.

He knew there was not much else left to say. Rogue made good points- a Council gathering could very easily end in disaster with Matvey still out for blood and although it would at least prove Vitali was not the Broker himself, it would still point fingers in his direction as a possible collaborator.

And if they were to find out the Broker was his father, it would only make things even worse for him.

‘Well, if that was all,’ Rogue suddenly said and set her empty glass back down on the table. Vitali felt his heart drop, but kept his mouth shut as he inhaled deeply and watched her slowly get up-

‘Ask her about the Arasaka thing, boss,’ Cato suddenly quietly said through his earpiece. ‘Thought you wanted to mention that too.’

That was very true. He had almost forgotten about it.

‘Rogue,’ Vitali quickly said, and she stopped mid-movement to look at him again. He shifted position on the couch, moving a little closer to her- and she slowly sat down again, leaning in to make sure no one else would hear them speak.

‘Do they still think I willingly went back to Arasaka?’ he quietly asked.

He was almost scared to get an answer to his question.

He knew that on a surface level it had looked exactly like that. He had vanished- had gotten shot and Arasaka had taken him in, patched him up and had put him through their latest brainwashing program in secret, and when Vitali had finally shown his face to the outside world again he had been entirely in their control-

But to everyone else it had simply looked like he had decided to switch sides.

‘Some do, yeah,’ Rogue finally answered, a frown on her face telling Vitali she did not find it easy to say. ‘They don’t know about what went down there.’

‘But you were there, too.’

‘Only Wakako knows about that.’

Vitali clenched his jaw and lowered his gaze, an exhale leaving his chest a little sharper than he had meant for. Deep down he had already known about all of it; but to hear it come out of Rogue’s mouth like that made it even more real to him and he clenched his fists again, a desperate attempt to keep himself under control.

‘Hey.’

Rogue reached out and placed a hand on the side of his upper arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze before pulling back again.

‘I’ll present them the evidence,’ she said, ‘as my own, not yours. You were never here, they’ll hear it from me, it’ll ease their minds. For now. You deal with your old man in the meantime, and this will all be over before you know it. Alright?’

‘Thank you,’ Vitali quietly said and she shook her head, waving her hand vaguely in the air.

‘Don’t mention it. Now get outta here, kid. This place isn’t your style.’

With a light smile on his face, Vitali carefully stood up and left the booth, leaning a little heavier on his cane again as he walked. The fight had been fun- but it had not done him any good and Judy’s words from earlier began bouncing around in his brain again.

Viktor really is going to kill me, huh.

‘Ladies, we are leaving the club as we speak,’ Eddie dramatically said, slowly following Vitali with Mikhail by his side. ‘Thank you for tuning in and we will see you back at the office.’

‘Not me, I’m going home,’ Judy replied. ‘Well done though, boys. Hope you’re okay, Vito. You did great.’

Vitali was not listening to their conversation anymore.

Eyes focused straight ahead, trying to ignore the stares of everyone around him as he slowly made his way through the club back to the entrance. Some people actually stepped out of his way as he passed them by- as if he would hurt them were they to get too close.

Vitali would never do such a thing unprompted.

But they did not know that. No one cared about that.

They only ever saw what was on show.

The cool midnight air of Night City was a welcoming breath of fresh air- as fresh as it could be, at least. A pleasant change from the heavy air inside and Vitali could not complain, briefly slowing his pace as he closed his eyes and breathed in deep a couple of times.

He was exhausted now. Partially regretted the fight; his ribs were sore and his leg was screaming at him to sit down, and he quickly made his way back to the car they had arrived in.

‘Small victory, yes?’ Mikhail asked, sitting down in the driver’s seat as Vitali himself took place in the backseat of the car, right in the middle.

‘Small victory,’ he repeated and buckled his seatbelt. ‘I’ll take what I can get.’

Of course he had hoped for more, but to have Rogue in his corner was a relief; if she could turn the heads of the Council away from him, even if it was just for a little while, it would be a big weight off his shoulders and he would be able to focus on dealing with Matvey in peace.

Vitali said nothing as they slowly began making their way back to Wellsprings, eyes glued to the scenery of the city outside- flashy, neon advertisements and bright car lights alike blinding him until he inevitably lowered his gaze.

He wondered what his father was doing at that very moment. A curious thought- but one that refused to leave his head, that single question repeating itself over and over again like a broken record.

What was he planning? When would he make his next move?

Vitali looked down at his hands. He hadn’t bothered to clean them yet; the blood on them had dried, and the bruising on his knuckles had darkened.

Another sharp exhale as he quickly averted his gaze. It was fine; they’d had it coming. None of them good people- and neither was he, and he knew that, and it was far too late for him to come back from that now.

‘Let’s stop by a diner or something, I’m starving,’ Eddie suddenly said, breaking the silence as they pointed at a building nearby. ‘I’ll just hop in and out real quick- Misha, the usual? Anything I can get you, boss?’

‘No, thank you,’ Vitali politely declined, shooting them a small smile as Mikhail turned to the side of the road and parked the car, allowing Eddie to jump out and hurry their way over to the diner.

‘You okay?’ Mikhail asked after a brief silence, slightly turning in his seat to look at Vitali. ‘You look sad.’

‘Just tired,’ Vitali answered, the smile on his face turning a little weary. ‘Didn’t go entirely as expected.’

‘You could have let me handle it. I’m your bodyguard, remember?’

‘This was more fun. I gave them a good show, no?’

‘Hm, you always do. Showoff.’

‘Asshole.’

Vitali closed his eyes and smiled as Mikhail reached out for him and ruffled his hair before leaning in and planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He turned back on his seat, a few soft clicks and coughs leaving his lips as he tapped on the steering wheel and waited for Eddie to return.

Vitali leaned back again, relaxing in the backseat and once more allowing his eyes to wander outside- from his position, he could see the pier in the distance, overlooking the dark and empty ocean.

He could see a storm rolling in.

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?" 

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start." 

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son. 

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart. 

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway. 

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day." 

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath. 

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her." 

"Being a man is about more than what you can do." 

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options." 

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy." 

"And you too." 

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food.  "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass. 

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to." 

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her." 

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?" 

"Ah, Pop, I don-" 

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called." 

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life. 

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat. 

"What's this?" 

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop." 

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?" 

"Pop." 

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?" 

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?" 

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?" 

"How would I know, though? How did you know?" 

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years. 

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…" 

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state. 

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?" 

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know." 

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love. 

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat. 

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality.  She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor. 

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women. 

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive." 

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice. 

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door. 

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life. 

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you." 

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar. 

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest. 

"We kissing in front of the parents now?" 

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed. 

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect." 

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts. 

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?" 

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone. 

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention. 

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you." 

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house. 

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised." 

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine. 

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine. 

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side. 

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name. 

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice. 

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck. 

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin. 

"Already? It's not that late, is it?" 

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up." 

"I'll speak up. I promise." 

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait. 

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ.  Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie." 

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week. 

"What's this?" 

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use." 

"When's the last time you used it?" 

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?" 

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall." 

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity, 

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm. 

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind. 

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well. 

Desire. 

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality. 

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now. 

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest. 

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next. 

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts. 

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying. 

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience. 

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back. 

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered. 

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth. 

"You trust me?" 

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg. 

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me." 

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center. 

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck. 

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure. 

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl. 

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it." 

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me." 

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear. 

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?" 

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria. 

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?" 

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right." 

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure. 

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking. 

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?" 

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed. 

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move." 

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy. 

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch. 

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life. 

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste. 

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits. 

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for. 

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds. 

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices. 

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host. 

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home. 

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him. 

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max. 

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable. 

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!" 

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission. 

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere. 

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come. 

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down. 

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams. 

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence. 

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown. 

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder. 

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud. 

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses. 

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?" 

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due. 

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy." 

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?" 

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?" 

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up." 

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady. 

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs. 

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey." 

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more." 

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill. 

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering. 

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there." 

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her. 

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build. 

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride 

You check your mail? 

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 24

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 23, Part 25

Warning! My AU is yandere and can involve gore. Sensitive topics appear in this series. This chapter is a bit bloody but not that bad.

In all honesty, you never expected to be the one to say ‘no’ to a proposal. Love wasn't something you frequently chased, and being a heartbreaker was even farther from your mind.

Maybe that's why you laughed so merrily at Zhongli’s face when you rejected him.

Then again, he wasn't proposing his heart, nor his love. Morax, Rex Lapis, or rather  Zhongli was offering an alliance of mutual benefit.

“What's your reasoning for rejecting my proposal? I may not marry you as the Geo Archon, but I'm not undesirable as I am now.”

He takes a moment to think as his fingers taps on his chin. The way the diamond of his iris shrinks and the slight grimace on his face raises a red flag in your mind. 

“You aren’t rejecting me solely due to the fact that I’m not operating as this country’s Archon are you?”

.

.

.

The smile on your face becomes tight as your hand shakes with the unmeasurable amount of effort to not flip him off right there. Just what did you do that could have caused such a stupid reasoning to come from his usually smart mouth?

“What the fuck made you think that I even gave a shit about you being an Archon?” Well maybe you couldn’t hold your tongue, but granted you didn’t really need to either.

The man bristles, but ultimately doesn’t answer your question, choosing to instead repeat the first question. “Why are you rejecting my proposal, then?”

“Because you don’t love me.”

“I could learn to love you.”

“But that goes against the terms and conditions of what a marriage is supposed to consist of.”

This brings Zhongli to a halt as he stews on your answer. With a smaller voice, he continues, “The legalities of our marriage would be decided on what vows we utter during the ceremony.”

“Not according to the Creator.” It’s like saying ‘no you’ in an argument, especially with how Zhongli’s face contorts into clear annoyance. 

“With what proof do you claim that as the truth? Nothing in any scriptures on Teyvat says that.” He seems to realize what answer you’ll give him even before you open your mouth by sighing.

“Because I’m the Oracle.” The self-satisfied smirk on your face is clear as you step closer to poke his chest. “Unless you’re suddenly going to claim that I’m wrong? Should we cut off another limb? Maybe your pitiful rat-tail as an ornament to decorate it.”

He pushes you away by your head, the material of your mask is cool under his fingers as you let him push you back with a laugh. He tsks at your antics and smoothly replies.

“Have you finished laughing? There’s no need to pick at my appearance when I wouldn’t do the same to you, whenever you would have shown me your face once we wed.”

Light laughter calms down into a brief hum as you take in his words. It’s all just a well-timed cover-up for the internal panic that you had at realizing that marrying him would mean being forced to reveal yourself one way or another.

“Fair point. Do you really want a serious answer from me anyway?” The swift conversation turn doesn’t go unnoticed by Zhongli, but he concedes by answering.

“Yes. Your reasoning may bring me more information on the Creator’s personal beliefs, or even aspects of humanity that I failed to learn firsthand yet.”

“Like rejection?” The smart-ass reply is met with an unimpressed stare as he comments. “Humorous, but not incorrect.”

“I wasn’t completely joking when I said that it’s mostly due to the Creator. Marriage in Liyue at least is mostly decided by the parents.” Your chapped lips become a bit more manageable to speak with as you lick them. “I don’t remember mine, and the closest thing you have to a parent is the Creator themselves, or maybe Teyvat?” Which was a weird thought, but you couldn’t really be sure how to view it.

“Therefore your marriage, or at the very least, my marriage, considering that I was personally sent on a mission by them, should be under the Creator’s control and only theirs. My opinion on it shouldn’t matter.” This was how you remembered China’s history worked, so Liyue hypothetically should have a similar system.

Zhongli’s frown deepens at your answer as you shrug your shoulders. As if you didn’t just make this whole answer up so that you can avoid marrying the ticking time bomb that wouldn’t hesitate to murder you in a split second.

Sure, there was increasing evidence that your acolytes gained this weirdly strong attachment to you, but you weren’t betting your entire life on it. The moment the mask was gone, your life was going to follow it.

“Then it seems I can do nothing but accept your teaching. Thank you for enlightening me on a topic that I was unaware about. Can I chalk this up to something you learned about from the scriptures written in Cloud Ret-”

He cuts himself off as he looks down at the bustling streets below the balcony. “Xianyun’s old abode? The one’s written in indecipherable language?”

Damn, you really forgot about Cloud Retainer’s humansona. Just thinking about accidentally running into her during your visit to Madam Ping makes you irritated in advance.

“No, there are other scriptures that the Creator led me to when I was exploring.” You didn’t want Zhongli trying to trace it back to Cloud Retainers introvert cave. In fact, it was more entertaining to visualize Zhongli searching every nook and cranny of Liyue’s vast lands for said ‘scriptures’.

The sun hits your eyes directly from its position as you try to guess the time. It had to be at least 3:30 at this point, right? Just how much time did you have to see Madam Ping before the dinner with Ningguang?

Who were you even kidding, you didn’t know how to tell the time by the sun. You’ll have to ask someone once you finish rejecting Zhongli.

Noticing your far off gaze and attention no longer on him, Zhongli let the petty, unexplainable indignation at the action simmer as he forcefully turned your body to face the door.

“I believe I’ve taken up more than enough of your time. You’d best be on your way to whatever task may be next on your schedule today.”

Now you feel pretty bad about spacing out like that. “Sorry Zhongli, I was just trying to figure out the time-” Your words seemed to go ignored as he pushed you out the doorway.

“Don’t bother worrying.” Is his brief response. The touch and pressure of his hands is firm and reliable in a way you can’t fully describe, before they’re removed swiftly as if he was burned. “Instead, you can focus on relaying your gratitude the next time we meet.”

Before you can question the strange sentence, the door is already slammed shut in your face. The whiplash of his actions settles as you stare at the wood in bewilderment. Instinctive, your feet lead you back down the stairs as you toss Zhongli’s sudden attitude and words in your mind.

Surely you weren’t that rude? You’ve done and said much worse things to him after all. Replaying your conversation yielded no new revelations, so with a sense of unease, you decide to take his push for your departure as his weird version of sulking.

What he expected you to thank him for wasn’t something you were going to worry about now. The sun shines on you, making the mask a bit warmer against your skin as you exit the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. 

If he didn’t bother explaining what you should be thanking him for, then it must be something either very big or very noticeable. Walking past where the balcony was, you look up and can only spot the empty chairs and simple table.

Time will tell, you suppose.

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

You aren’t completely sure how you expected your meeting with Madam Ping to go, but being stuck inside the temple with your neck being examined carefully by the older woman wasn’t a possibility you had in mind.

��Um, Madam Ping, I’m quite sure Xianyun’s claw marks aren’t there anymore. They’ve long healed at this point.”

“Child, you shouldn’t brush off injuries left by the Adepti so easily. Many can leave varying, strange and frankly annoying effects that can permanently alter your body if not taken care of.”

Sighing, you use your right arm to sip the tea Ping generously made for you, as your left arm was also being examined for any amber fragments from Mountain Shaper.

“You really don’t have to worry. Dr. Baizhu was the one who healed me up, so there’s nothing off about my body.” Ping relents and lets you fix your clothing as she steps away.

It was honestly surprising when she first spotted you and immediately apologized for her Adepti companion's actions. Yaoyao and Shuyu, Xianyun’s youngest disciple, were quick to be corralled away as Madam Ping brought you to one of the smaller rooms for examination.

“It must be an illuminated bird quality to be somewhat violent toward me. Maybe when I meet Xiao, I’ll get an injury from him too.” The joke slips out easily, but when Ping sighs and shakes her head in disapproval, you’re quick to shut your mouth.

“That would be even worse, as the karmic debt can be accidentally seeped into your wound that way.” Each sentence Ping says is clear worry, so you can’t be too annoyed at the slight nagging.

“Even still, I hope you have it in your heart to pray that the Creator forgive my headstrong and stubborn companions.” And here’s the catch. “I’m afraid it hasn’t been long since any of them have been trying this hard to understand humans on a personal level, so they tend to revert into their more proud egos when faced with the unexpected.”

There it was, all the excuses. You were really hoping Ping wouldn’t be the kind enabler that asks the victim to forgive the assaulter under the guise of some excuse. You’ve dealt with more than enough back on earth when bullies actually had abuse and other fucked up shit going on at home. 

Likewise, you weren’t about to put up with it from some ‘illuminated beings’ that had more than enough years to learn how not to be judgmental sad sacks of shi-

“I’ll still properly scold them for you, but it’s the Creator’s opinion that I’m truly concerned about.” Would you get in trouble for punching her? Probably. Yanfei is close with her and the best lawyer in existence.

It wasn’t worth it, you told yourself. It wasn’t worth it to argue with Ping about whether it was okay for the Adepti to hurt you or anyone else, solely depending on how connected they were to the Creator. It absolutely wasn’t worth it to point out how the Adepti’s lack of control over their emotions and harsh judgements couldn’t just be scolded away. And that they definitely weren’t allowed to get away with unneeded violence simply because they’re stubborn.

The building tension as Ping continued to ramble and your death grip on your pants was broken by Yanfei walking in while looking off to the side.

“Granny, I heard you came - Oh. Hello there!”  Yanfei’s casual greeting had you melting back into the oracle position as you smile calmly at Yanfei. 

“Hey, nice to meet you. I was just talking with-” You’re cut off by Ping moving to stand in front of Yanfei and begin to explain and introduce you. Including the fact that the other Adepti attacked you and that you were the oracle.

Well, it’s better than you retelling the story. It’s better to let others lie for you, especially considering the close relations. It’s not like Ping’s way of speaking was fast or overwhelming, it just felt like you would be wrong for whatever reason if you tried interfering.

Doesn’t stop the surge of annoyance, though.

Deciding to just leave as soon as possible and not get into a fist fight with a hidden Adeptus, you move off the bed and walk closer to the duo. Without much trouble, you’re able to slip past them until a hand tugs your wrist quickly before releasing it.

“Sorry, but I just wanted to introduce myself to you before you leave. My name is Yanfei. I'm the top legal advisor in Liyue.” A business card is handed to you as she speaks.

Accepting it, you examine the card to not be rude before stuffing it into your bag. While you’ll probably forget about it, it’s not bad to have it in case you visit Fontaine. Or if things with Ninggnuang get into legal territory.

What actually got your attention was how Yanfei went through the trouble of cutting off Ping to speak personally to you. Could this be the first Adepti related character to treat you with respect as a normal person?

The fact that you’re amazed by basic human decency is pretty fucking sad. The difference in treatment between her and Ganyu despite both of them being half-adeptus is staggering.

“Thank you. Just as Madam Ping explained, my name is Y/N, and I’m an Oracle for the Creator.” At least the old woman didn’t butt in yet. “Yaoyao visited me yesterday to meet her. I just didn’t expect to meet you here as well.”

“You suit your position rather well.” Her head tilts slightly to the side, making the Mora decorations jingle. “Although I haven’t met you before, just by your appearance alone I can guess that you’re either-” A finger is raised. “A - you’re not from here. Or B - you don’t have a traditional job.” The second finger joins the first as she takes in your appearance in completion.

“I would put inhuman beings or vision holders on the list, but your aura is completely that of a human, but also not one of a vision holder. In a way, you remind me of the traveler.”

“It does make sense.” You reply with a noncommittal shrug. “The traveler was the first Acolyte, and I’m the first Oracle, so there’s bound to be some uncanny similarities between us.” 

Madam Ping wistfully sighs at the mention of the traveler. “Ah yes, the Hero of Liyue. I was able to gift them that teapot, but what a shame that I don’t have another one to spare for you, esteemed Oracle.”

And here comes the half-praise, half-demeaning words that’s meant to belittle you into feeling worthless while giving meager praise to make her sound generous. 

“There would be no need to, since I intend on enjoying our God’s creations rather than hiding away from it in an Adeptal piece of machinery.” A wide grin adorns your face with canines clear to see, but your voice is as excited as a child’s with innocence clear.

Those that hear you would assume nothing but ignorance at fault, but the ones that can see how your eyes dimly gleam with mockery would think otherwise.

Isn’t it so good that Yanfei is by your side while Ping is in front of you?

The words clearly hit a nerve, as Ping’s smile drops into a horribly wrinkled frown. Yanfei’s teal eyes look between you two with a smile that dissolves into a confused furrow of her brows.

“My apologies, child, I was unaware that you were so deprived of empathy for others that you can reduce the hard work of the Creator’s chosen protectors of this land into a symbol of defilement.” The last few words are scathing as her face contorts into a gruesome mess of sagging skin.

“Granny, I understand why you’re mad but-” Yanfei takes a step forward, but is cut off by Ping raising her hand while stepping closer to you.

“I can now understand why Shenhe, that poor pitiful child, was so conflicted about her emotions toward you. I may not understand why the Creator chose a human of your breed to have that holy position, but I can only pray that this journey teaches you a lesson concerning those that you have wronged in this way.”

“Granny!” Yanfei yells in shock as she moves between you two, “How could you say something like that to them? You’re not only insulting them, you’re also insulting the Creator!” 

She turns around to face you as she shots a grimace behind her at the fuming hag. “I am so sorry about this, you should probably go now.” 

Nodding with a sad expression, you speak in a confused tone. “I-I understand. It was nice meeting you and Madam Ping. I hope we can talk again sometime.” Twisting open the doorknob and pushing it open, you sneak one last peek into the room.

Yanfei has her back to you as she yells on a whisper level. Ping doesn’t look all that pleased until her eyes stray to yours. The smugness practically rolls off you in waves as she scorns at you with disgust. 

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

It was official.

You were lost.

Looking at the doors and people walking around you, you tried to remember what path you took with Ping. But each door looked the same, with different people rushing in and out.

None of them even had time to talk to you as they wheeled out screaming and bleeding people from room to room. You got glimpses of dressings pressed haphazardly on wounds as you continued walking.

Surely you still had enough time until Ningguang’s dinner?

Trying not to freak out over the time, you continue marching throughout the seemingly endless hallways and avoid bumping into the doctors, nurses and more that rush around you. Eventually you arrive at an area of the building that looks a bit calmer.

You spot a woman wearing a dress looking similar to a work uniform and decide to ask her for directions leading out of the temple. You’re about to call out to her when she opens a door and enters it while cheerfully calling out.

“Thank you so much for all the help despite your busy schedule!” She continues to walk in, giving a half-hearted push to close it. 

Sneakily, you plant your foot right at the hinge of it, making it stop before it actually closes. A sense of déjà vu nags you as you stand outside the room with your head resting against the wall. You close your eyes to listen to the conversation.

“It’s no trouble at all, Daiyu. I always enjoy volunteering to help those who offer sacrifices to the Creator here.” There’s a light tilt to the voice while remaining sturdy, a good indicator that the speaker is who you think it is.

“Even so, as the Yuheng of Liyue, you still have many duties. Much more than you did when you first began to help out all those years ago…” The anxious woman is met with a brief chuckle.

“As I’ve said before, Daiyu, you can call me Keqing during these times. I’m not here as the Yuheng, but as a servant of our God to learn more.” The faint click of heels can be heard as drawers of what you assume are bandages are opened.

“Well, have you finally come to a conclusion? You know about whether self-mutilation is an ‘overdone’ and an ‘inferior’ way of worshiping the Creator?” The question is met with brief silence before Keqing responds.

“I’ve already made up my mind around the same time as Rex Lapis’s death. Self-mutilation isn’t exactly wrong per se, but it should not be our main way of worship. Our bodies were painstakingly crafted by the Creator’s hands and should not be abused. It’s why I’ve strived to keep myself in perfect shape.”

A sigh can be heard with an almost bitter note.

“But humans can not regrow lost limbs. Thus, I do not believe self-mutilation is the best way for humanity to worship the gods. Blood offerings and even human offerings of other criminals can be done, but I believe that self-mutilation should be left for extreme sins and for the Adepti to present.”

With eyes trained to the blood-stained floorboards beneath your feet, you push yourself off the wall. It seemed you weren’t going to gain any useful information from here. 

“The public won’t accept that kind of view that goes against what we’ve been taught for thousands of years. Then again, that never stopped you before - Aw, damn it! There’s barely any medical supplies here, too.”

The tapping of your feet walking away is concealed by the clicking of heels.

“There’s nothing left? Ugh, probably Ningguang again. She’s always doing this stuff.”

But perhaps you should have stayed just a bit longer. 

“The Tianquan?! Oh, please don’t let her know what I said! I quite like my job!”

“Relax, Daiyu, she wouldn’t care about your complaints even if she did hear them.”

“Then why are you frowning like that?”

You never know what you might hear.

“It’s just a bit strange to me. Not long ago she was doing all sorts of planning with an annoyed expression, but this morning she was pleased. She must have either taken care of whatever was bothering her or hatched the perfect, foolproof plan for it.”

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

Thankfully, you did manage to find your way back to the first floor. (When did you even walk up the stairs?) Most of the people there were rather calm, with incense and prayer rooms decorating this floor. 

The smell was of cinnamon and something with a strong woody scent. The one’s in the prayer rooms had healed scars exposed, either doing a full floor bow or at least on their knees.

If they had them, at least.

It was a gruesome sight if you were to be honest. Some had skin raw red from what looked like boil scars, others with self-inflicted writing carved into their skin. Words like; ‘Holy One’, ‘Savior’, and the most popular one of all: ‘Beloved Creator’ were in some way permanently branding their skin.

The wind blew from a certain hallway, as if Teyvat was trying to finally lend you a hand in leaving this temple of smoke and blood. Taking long strides past the rooms that muttered and screamed at varying levels and intervals, you see a set of wide doors.

WHAM

The whir of a sliding door before it slams into the doorway is all you hear before a hand is wrapped firmly around your wrist and pulling you into the dark room. Your breath is knocked out of you as the soles of your shoes search for purchase.

Your hands reach up to where you were grabbed to dig into the scalp of your assailant before you both fall to the ground from the struggle. 

“Let go of me!” You grit out as the slender fingers continue trying to pin you down. A feminine grunt of pain is heard as you finally manage to push her away, making your assaulter hit the wall.

Like hell! You weren’t just going to leave after being attacked for no fucking reason. Rushing forward, you pin the person against the wall as your eyes adjust to the dark room. Silvery hair can be seen in a tangle between your fingertips as you hold her wrists against the wall.

“Shenhe, what the fuck were you thinking? Are you still pissed at me? I thought we cleared it all up.” With a mix of anger, disbelief and pure confusion, you stare at her face as her features slowly become more defined.

“I just wanted to see you again…” The kicked puppy look is not suiting the bloody bandages wrapped around her left eye. Or what used to be her eye. “I didn’t hurt you this time.”

“Dragging an unsuspecting person into a dark room isn't not hostile either, Shenhe.” She simply stares at you in silence, as if she’s incompetent enough to not understand your words. “We almost fought to our deaths last time we met. How am I not supposed to assume that you’re trying to hurt me?”

Shenhe’s head drops a little bit as her mouth opens and closes repeatedly with no success. After giving her a moment, you sigh with a hint of annoyance and let go of her. “I have to get going, Shenhe. I'm not going to sit and wait forever.”

“I’m sorry.” You glance back down at Shenhe as she sits on her knees with her hands clenched tightly on her thighs. “I’m sorry for hunting you down so insistently while framing you as someone who wronged me on a personal level.”

Could you really accept this apology when you did stab her first for killing those Hilichurls you were friends with? Then again, they did give you liquor while Shenhe convinced herself that you were an evil entity. “Thanks for the apology, but that still doesn’t change much. I spent days in Bubu Pharmacy trying not to die from all the shit you and Yelan put me through.”

“I already heard about it and saw the vivid details of your healing progress while I waited outside your window that day.” Those words alone had you whipping your head around to her as your jaw dropped.

“Shenhe, what the hell!?” She staggers back to her feet with a worrying sway before taking mute steps towards your shocked form.

“A good partner is one who is attentive and keeps detailed track of their lover's affairs and health, correct?” Trying to wrap your head around the twisted logic she presents you with, you bury your face in your hands.

“Yes, but not in the context of our relationship.” You stress as your arm automatically reaches out to stop her from swaying to the ground. With your hand firmly on her arm, you continue to speak. “I know that you don’t really use that word often considering Xianyun’s teachings, but it’s pretty fucking important.”

A sole iridescent blinks lazily at you before her whole body weight is pressing down on you. It’s less of a hug and more like a ‘glomp’. Deciding to hold her by her waist to prevent being crushed by the pure muscle mass that made up her body, her forehead rests on your shoulder.

It’s burning. Definitely unusual for a Cryo vision holder.

“Shenhe? Shenhe can you hear me?” You ask as her glazed over eye stares into yours with no recognition seen in them. Swinging your head around, you finally spot a blood stained coat off to the side.

“C’mon, Shenhe, just work with me a bit to get you back to bed.” You spit out as you carry more of her weight to avoid dragging her on the floor. Thankfully, she helps out by wrapping her legs around your body and despite the slight constriction, you still manage to carry her back to bed.

Dropping her on the bed, you carefully fix her up. Brushing her hair out of her face, pulling the covers back over body, and adjusting the surrounding bandages around her injured eye to fit snugly. 

She did apologize after all, it would be cruel of you to leave a person with a fever and probably an infection a mess on a bed. 

That didn’t mean you were going to stay and nurse her back to health. Ningguang was probably at the restaurant at this point, and you weren’t going to be late for it.

Turning around, you take a quiet step toward the exit until a hand wraps frantically around your wrist.

“You forgive me, right?” Heavy breathing fills the room as her sweaty skin clings to the little contact she has with you. “I apologized sincerely, I’ll do it again if I must.” A trembling eye stares into your soul as her voice breaks. “Please…”

You stare down at the disciple with an unreadable expression until a smile breaks out onto your face. Shenhe’s grip loosens as hope begins to light up. Your other hand gently removes her fingers from your wrist before you whisper.

“Why don’t you sleep on it, Shenhe?”

Her eyes slide shut from pure exhaustion as you walk away and exit the room. After taking note of the room number, you resume your short walk to the exit. A nurse is nearby and just as you pull one of the wide doors open, you lean in to whisper a brief message.

The door closes shut behind you as the nurse rushes away. With careful footsteps, you walk leisurely toward the Xinyue Kiosk. The burning stares of civilians and soldiers alike are rolled off you in waves.

It was pointless to fight with the puppets when the puppet master invited you to meet her.

A feel like this part took forever. It's just the beginning of my spring break before I have another quiz and exam. So my break is just more studying, wonderful. My editor didn't need to do much considering the small size but I also feel like this wasn't the best of my work. I did write piece by piece every few nights when I got back home dead tired. I really can't wait for this semester to end…. But I'm also really excited to get started on the dinner with Ningguang! Taglist is always open!

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[novascharms]

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 1.9 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap.  masterlist a.n — ANOTHER ONE? i feel like dj khaled not gonna lie.

eighteen

friday, february 28th

you were sitting in the nearly deserted common area, the hum of quiet conversation and faint footsteps serving as the only background noise. your laptop was open in front of you, the screen aglow with the fifth slide of the powerpoint presentation you’d been meticulously crafting for the upcoming pta meeting. even though you didn’t have class on friday mornings, you always made your way to school as it was easier to stay focused here, surrounded by the muted energy of the school, than at home.

the quiet was a blessing, giving you the space to concentrate. earlier, rafe had been sitting beside you, devouring a breakfast sandwich while making you laugh between bites. but he’d left for his econ class, leaving you to the silence, though the warmth of his presence still lingered faintly.

you were so engrossed in formatting the slide’s text that the sudden motion of someone sliding into the booth across from you startled you. your eyes snapped up, narrowing at the unexpected intrusion. "topper," you said flatly, blinking in surprise as you instinctively reached for your phone. rafe wasn’t expecting you to text him, but if his best friend was suddenly here, uninvited, it felt worth a heads-up.

"can we talk?" topper’s tone was surprisingly earnest, catching you off guard.

your mind flashed to the biting comments he’d made about you in the past, and the instinctive urge to say no bubbled up. but then you remembered the way rafe had once spoken about topper, calling him a brother, someone who’d been at his side since elementary school. that memory made you pause.

"maybe you should just talk to rafe," you suggested carefully, already closing your laptop. rafe was meeting you here after class anyway; you could just wait for him outside instead of dealing with whatever this was.

but topper leaned forward, stopping you. "i have stuff to say to rafe too, but right now, i want to talk to you. i need to apologize," he said, his voice low and serious. the words were so unexpected that they left you momentarily speechless. you’d been bracing for another snide remark, not this.

"okay," you said slowly, settling back into your seat.

he nodded, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. "rafe’s been my best friend for over ten years," he began, his voice carrying the weight of those years. "we’ve been through everything together. and he’s been through a lot. if he’s serious about you—and it seems like he is—then i’m guessing he’s told you about sarah."

you nodded. "yeah, he did."

"the worst of it with sarah was not that long ago," topper continued, his gaze dropping to the table for a moment before meeting yours again. "i won’t get into the details—that’s not my story to tell—but it hit him hard. he went into this… dark place. he felt isolated and abandoned, and he leaned on me. a lot. when i wasn’t there, he’d self-destruct. sometimes it was just picking fights; other times, it was worse. hospital-worse."

his words hung heavy in the air as you fiddled nervously with your fingers. you tried to imagine rafe like that, spiraling and untethered, but it was hard to reconcile with the version of him you knew.

"i got used to the idea that we were kind of… intertwined," topper admitted. "like, if something happened to him, i’d be the first to know. and yeah, maybe we can talk about unhealthy boundaries or whatever, but that’s how it was. so when things got rocky between you and him… and he wouldn’t talk to me about it? it scared the hell out of me." his voice cracked slightly, the vulnerability in his words cutting through your initial wariness. "i was afraid he’d snap, that he’d go back to being that kid who destroyed everything around him because he didn’t know how to deal with his pain and emotions."

your mind raced, trying to process everything he was saying, trying to reconcile this part of rafe’s life with the person you thought you knew so well.

topper seemed to notice the wide-eyed look on your face and softened his tone. "i’m not saying this to make you feel bad, okay? really, i’m not. i just want to explain why i acted like such an asshole to you.” he explains, “when rafe shuts me out, i feel powerless. and when i thought you were hurting him, i went into defense mode. i see now that i was wrong, that you’re good for him. he’s more in control of his emotions, maturing faster than i thought he would. he’s happy, even if he’s still not talking to me. that’s all i want—for him to be happy."

you crossed your arms, nodding slowly as his words settled over you. "this makes a lot more sense now," you admitted quietly, your voice soft but sincere.

topper gave you a sad smile. "yeah, i figured it would."

"and… i appreciate the apology," you added, your lips curving into a small smile.

he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "i shouldn’t have acted the way i did. honestly, i drink way too much and should probably be banned from my phone when i do."

you let out a small laugh. "i did say that at the bonfire," you teased, a playful lilt in your voice.

topper’s brows furrowed for a moment before his eyes lit up with recognition. "you did say that shit at the bonfire. damn. you were right." he chuckled, shaking his head. "is it too late for dry january?"

you grinned, leaning back in your seat. "there's a ton of research and discussion that suggests new year's resolutions like dry january, extreme fitness routines, or restrictive diets are not always as beneficial as they may seem. experts even highlight that true freedom lies in understanding that the opportunity for change is not confined to a specific date and the essence of free will is recognising that you can choose to start new on any day of the year. whether that's january first or..i don't know, today. "

topper blinked at you, then smirked. "you’re like a walking wikipedia page."

"i’ll take that as a compliment," you replied, pressing a hand to your heart in mock pride.

"it is a compliment," he assured you. "or at least, i don’t mean it in a bad way."

"that definitely makes up for when you called me a ‘goody-goody prissy bitch,’" you teased, raising a brow.

topper grimaced, his hand flying to his face. "i’m really, really sorry about that," he groaned.

you waved it off with a smile. "all is forgiven."

before topper can respond, he’s yanked to his feet with a force that makes the table tremble. "what the fuck do you think you're doing?" rafe’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and angry, as he stands nose to nose with topper. you scramble up from the booth, heart racing as you reach out to steady the situation. "rafe—" you try to interject, your voice calm but firm, but topper shakes his head at you.

"i’m sorry, okay?" topper blurts out, words tumbling from his mouth like he’s been holding them back for days. "you won’t hear me out, and i know you’re pissed. i deserve it. but i had to apologise and explain myself—to you and her." he glances at you briefly before focusing back on rafe. "you know me, man. you know i only want what’s good for you. don’t sit there and tell me that’s not true."

rafe’s jaw tightens, his piercing gaze darting from topper to you. his voice is curt when he asks, "he said sorry?"

you nod quickly, your eyes searching his for any flicker of calm. "yes. we’re all good. it’s okay."

after a tense pause, rafe finally releases topper with a sharp exhale, though his stance remains rigid. "apologise again," he orders, the edge in his tone leaving no room for argument.

topper’s shoulders slump, but he complies without hesitation, turning back to you. "y/n, i’m really sorry. i was being a dick. you didn’t deserve any of it," he repeats earnestly, his gaze steady despite the awkwardness.

you soften at his sincerity, shaking your head as you murmur, "it’s okay." rafe’s hand slides into yours then, grounding you in the moment.

"and you’ll…" rafe starts, his voice trailing off before a smirk curves his lips. "wash her bike for her."

your head snaps toward him, incredulous. "what?" the word spills from your mouth in disbelief, but rafe doesn’t even glance your way.

you whirl back to topper, shaking your head insistently. "topper, you don’t have to wash my bike. that’s ridiculous—"

"he’ll wash your bike," rafe interrupts, his tone so matter-of-fact it’s almost comical. "he wants to wash your bike. tell her you want to wash her bike."

"rafe," topper groans, dragging a hand over his face, clearly over this already.

before either of you can argue further, rafe’s grip tightens on your hand, and he starts pulling you away. "no, no! okay! fucking hell, i’ll wash the damn bike!" topper calls after you, voice strained with exasperation.

rafe stops, glances over his shoulder, and arches a brow. "yeah? you’ll wash it?"

topper throws his hands up in defeat. "yes. i’ll wash it," he mutters.

you shake your head at rafe, disbelief mixing with fondness. "you’re unbelievable, you know that?" you tell him as he leads you back to the booth.

rafe just smirks, sliding in beside you and tugging you close. topper drops back into the seat across from you, his face a mix of annoyance and resignation. "yes, he knows that," topper says dryly, earning a quiet chuckle from rafe.

"you should be happy about this," rafe quips, leaning back like he’s already won. "didn’t you know cleaning can burn up to 400 calories an hour?"

your heart warms despite yourself, and you glance at him, surprised. "you were listening when i said that?"

he gives you a pointed look, one that’s equal parts teasing and affectionate. "you keep underestimating me. you know that?"

grinning, you nudge him gently. "shame on me," you reply, your voice light with humor as you tuck your laptop into your bag. "i’m gonna go say hi to hazel real quick. i’ll be right back."

you gesture for him to move so you can slide out of the booth, but instead, he loops an arm around you and lifts you over his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. you barely manage to stifle a surprised laugh as you land on the other side, shooting him a playful glare before walking away.

as you approach hazel, you’re trying—and failing—to act completely normal, though the light skip in your step probably gives you away. "hiii," you greet her, sliding into the seat across from her.

hazel raises a brow, glancing past you. "heyyy. is that freaking topper sitting with you and rafe?"

you laugh, shaking your head. "yeah. he came to talk to me about ten minutes ago when i was sitting alone. he apologised for everything."

hazel’s jaw drops, her pen frozen mid-air. "that’s… wow. what a turn of events. so, he and rafe are good again?"

you glance over at the two boys, now laughing together like nothing had ever been wrong. "all good. topper’s not as bad as i thought he was."

"who would've thought?"

your chin comes to rest in your palm as you stare at hazel, stupid grin on your face.

"stop smiling so much." she laughs and you can't contain your grin. "why not?" you ask her, "can i not be reallyyy happy?"

hazel hums thoughtfully, turning her attention back to paper. "of course you can. just be careful. but anyway, i was talking to gisele, and we came up with a great idea for the double-booking problem." she dives into an explanation, and you’re quick to join the discussion, feeling an odd sense of peace settle over you.

everything feels like it’s finally clicking into place, like it was always meant to happen this way. and the miraculous part? you get to keep rafe through it all.

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap.

a.n — but do you reallyyyyyyy get to keep him? whooo knows. anyway, chapter 19 tomorrow and chapter 20 sat — epilogue on sundayyyyyy

taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby @pogueprincesa @fveapplestall @chalametlover444 @slutglimreqpers @uarmyhopeworldwide @junxe3 @bakuhoethotski @wintercrows @kinderwh0r3 @magicalflowerstranger @bigjuli444 @singlethreadofivy @stylestarkey

let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3

[teenidlegirl]

⠀✸⠀⠀𝓑𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝓞𝐅 𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓜𝐄𝐒𝐒⠀⠀┈⠀﹙⠀𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟖⠀﹚⠀ა ︎ ﾞ .

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀you and miguel finally have your big conversation. he finally gets the chance to explain himself, you learn a heartbreaking truth, and figure out where to go next.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀fluff, angst, pregnancy, background stories, past character death, past violence, flashbacks, mentions of blood, trauma, emotional distress, sorta hurt/comfort

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

the smell of pancakes awakes you, filling up your senses. slowly opening your eyes, your remember everything from yesterday. after the stupid fight between joel and miguel, you took miguel back home to patch him up and demanded that he should stay the night. he obeyed like a puppy, no matter how many times he rejected the offer. you also realize this is the first time miguel has been in your home in two months. the last time he was here, miguel walked out and disappeared for three weeks. now, he’s back and making breakfast in your kitchen.

you snap out of thought when a white fluff ball walks towards your face. the sight makes you smile as luna greets you with happy licks and a wagging tail. after saying good morning to your dog, you get up from bed and put on a cardigan over your nightgown to shield you from the chilly morning air. sipping on your fuzzy slippers and scooping luna in your arms, you head to the kitchen and find miguel cooking. his broad back faced to you. that navy blue compression shirt hugs his muscles so perfectly. the way his back muscles ripple as he maneuvers around the kitchen.

goddamn that is a sight you miss so much. to see him again, in the flesh, especially in your home. just a cute domestic scene of the man you still love. you really miss miguel so much it hurts.

but the pain that he inflicted on you hurts still. although you’re happy to see him and have him in here after a long time, that doesn’t erase the heartbreak miguel left behind when he left you alone to deal with a life-changing situation for three weeks. those were the shittiest three weeks of your life. three weeks of crying. three weeks of pain. miguel caused that, the very same man cooking breakfast in your kitchen at this moment. now that he’s here, you have to know where the fuck he was during those three weeks. it’s the question that never left your mind.

as he serves a plate meant for you, miguel turns around not expected to see you there standing at the opposite side of the kitchen island. “oh buenas dias, amor. i was gonna take this to you so you wouldn’t have to get out of bed.” he offers a sheepish grin.

there goes your heart fluttering because of his kindness, against your opposing thoughts. “the smell of pancakes woke me up, i had to get out of bed.”

your joke makes him chuckle lightly. “you still should get back in bed, i’ll bring this to you.”

“no, it’s okay. i need to wash my sheets anyways. now gimme those pancakes, pretty please.” you hop on one of the barstools with much glee.

miguel couldn’t resist the cute smile of yours, a sight that he misses so dearly.

you enjoy your pancakes while miguel cleans up the kitchen. damn, those pancakes are delicious. you forgot how much you miss his cooking. you remember how great of a cook he is but damn do you miss eating the food he made. resurfaced memories of the mornings and evenings miguel would cook, either at your place or his, when you were dating. chitchatting and sometimes goofing around while cooking delicious meals. his food always hit the spot, even simple as pancakes.

moving on to a much more serious topic, you wanted to know of his condition and if anything improved overnight. the memories of those awful bruises still makes your heart squeeze painfully.

“how are you feeling?”

“a bit better but some places still hurts like shit but i’ll be fine. that asshole didn’t do that much damage.” he rubs the back of his neck with a hand.

“still, he hurt you enough.”

miguel notices the concern laced in your tone, his heart swells. “i’ll be okay, mi amor. i promise.” he leans a bit over the island to find your eyes, reassuring you that he will be fine.

your concerned eyes meet his serious yet reassuring eyes. you know he will be fine but you can’t not be still concerned about his health. no matter the circumstances, your heart still beats and aches for him. you simply offer a small smile then continue focusing on your breakfast.

miguel lets you eat in peace as he cleans up the kitchen, washing and putting away dishes. once he finished, he can’t help but silently admire you. your disheveled hair, slightly droopy eyes, and sleepy face. every detail of you is so precious. the gorgeous warm hue of the morning sun makes your figure glow beautifully, as if an angel sits across from him.

you are an angel, his angel.

god he missed you so much. to wake up and see you there in the same place as him. to have you there in general, you gracing him with your angelic presence. miguel misses waking up to find you beside him in bed. the softness of you against his roughness. your warmth smoothing him as he awakens, the only source preventing his nightmares. sharing these cute small moments with you while cooking, eating, cleaning, shopping, walking, just anything.

the longer he admires you in silence, realization creeps up to him. you two agreed to reserve the big conversation today after a good long rest from yesterday’s shitshow. suddenly, anxiety invades his body. miguel is nervous as hell to address the elephant in the room, mainly due to your reaction and fear that his reasons won’t be justifiable. he imprinted a large scar on you that will forever be there, it will never heal, not for a long time.

but this will only be his chance to explain himself. miguel can’t lose that opportunity, not when it can lead to a possible future with you and the baby. however, this cute quiet moment between you two right now does not mean things are back to normal. it does not mean it will be like that after the conversation. it will be your decision whether to forgive him or accept his reasons and determine the outcome. it will be your final word.

you also are nervous as hell. a much needed conversation yet you are afraid to discuss it. mainly because of what will be the outcome and future of your relationship. you desperately need to know his reasons. despite the quiet moment right now, the anger and resentment still lingers, bubbling inside you. the pain he left you remains in your fragile heart. the same heart beating with intense anxiety.

it’s the calm before the storm.

you finish your breakfast, which was absolutely delicious, and about to get up from your seat to out away the now dirty plate until a calloused hand stops you by gently taking the plate from your hands.

“hey, i got it.” you pout.

his heart flutters at that pout. goddamnit you’re so adorable. “i got it, preciosa. you stay there.”

“but i just wanted to—”

“no buts, i’ll do everything.” he cuts you off softly with a smile that makes your heart leap once again.

you know this is his attempt of making things up to you. it’s a small start yet it doesn’t change anything or erase the pain. miguel knows it as well.

“we need uh… we need to talk about… y’know?”

a heavy sigh escapes his lips. “we do… uh… let’s head to the couch to be more comfortable, ¿si?”

you nod, hop off the bar stool, and head to the couch. you sit on one end and miguel on the other, some distance between you two. luna comes up to snuggle with you on your lap. anxiety invades both your bodies. now it’s time to discuss this situation, learn the truth, and find a solution, or not. but nevertheless, you were ready to know the truth.

miguel is the more nervous reck, practically sweating his ass off due the anxiety invading his veins like a virus. this is his one and only opportunity.

“i regret what i did… it was a mistake i’ll regret for the rest of my life because leaving you was the stupidest mistake of my life.” his sad eyes meet yours. “i promised to never hurt you pero… i did the one thing i swore to never do… and i hate myself for it.” he adverts his gaze, feeling undeserving often look at you because of the shame and guilt.

you can only offer a pitiful glance. ever since he returned, you have noticed the self-loathing consuming him whole. the guilty and shameful glint in his eyes every time they meet yours.

“i deserve all of your anger and frustration. i hurt you and saying sorry won’t fix anything, it won’t take away the pain i caused you.” a heavy sigh left his lips as he bring up a hand and rubs the temples of his forehead. “i-i was scared… i was afraid that i—”

your brows furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concern. what was miguel afraid of?

another heavy sigh. “when you said you were pregnant, i panicked… i just… i just couldn’t believe it. i couldn’t believe i would be a father, that i would have a baby… i never considered it before and… i was so… scared.” he lowers his hand but never looks back up to face you, instead down at his lap, too afraid to meet your eyes. “i was scared of becoming a father and having a baby because… i would fail you both…”

your frown deepens. “fail us? miguel, what do you mean?” how could he fail you and the baby? it doesn’t make sense. now you’re more concerned.

he had to reveal the truth.

“gabriel… you know that him and i joined together?”

miguel didn’t need to look at you to see you nod, just from his peripheral. he feels his heart aching, proving how hard it was to talk about his brother because the pain and guilt are still strong. you can see him struggling. the way he’s hunched over as if he’s in pain. eyes screwed shut, brows furrowed deeply, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, knees bouncing. you just want to scoot over and hug him. you almost do but he then continues.

“one mission… it was more intense than others.” he starts off quietly. “it all went wrong unfortunately, we were outnumbered, things went downhill so fast and…” a sob that was threatening to escape was bitten back down his throat as flashbacks of that mission infiltrates his mind. the closer he was to the memory, the harder it was hold back the tears.

flashback of the bullet striking through gabriel’s shoulder, hitting an artery. miguel’s heart stops as his brother collapses onto the ground while the rest of the team fight off the enemy. panic invades his veins as he rushed to his wounded brother, collecting him in his arms and seeking shelter behind a wall, ignoring the pleads of his squad.

“s-shit…” gabriel groans in pain. “definitely hit the spot.” a weak chuckle escapes his lips.

“you’re okay… you’re okay. you’re gonna be okay, hermano.” its also as if miguel is telling himself that, allowing the panic to consume him.

the younger o'hara shakes his head slighty, a weak smile on his lips that are slowly dripping in red. “i-i don’t think t-this time, pendejo…”

“no, no, no. you’re gonna be okay, gabri. ¿me oyes? you’re gonna be fine.”

but the red ooze dripping from gabriel’s lips and the color draining from his skin said otherwise. he was losing him, he was losing his baby brother.

“d-don’t worry a-about me…” a cough of blood makes miguel’s heart ache immensely. “i-i finally g-got to be who i-i wanted to b-be… e-especially contigo, hermano…”

tears swell in his eyes as miguel watched his brother take one final breath and heart beats one last time. a scream of agony erupts from his throat as he clings onto his brother and break into tears.

“miguel?…”

the angelic tone of your voice snaps him out of that horrific memory and looks to see your hand rested on his arm then up to meet your eyes. his own swelled with tears. miguel didn’t realized how close you are, now sitting right beside him.

seeing those gorgeous brown eyes swelled with tears breaks your heart. he was so lost in thought to the point of panicking. you didn’t hesitate to move over and comfort him, you were so worried. you just wanted to pull him into your arms and hug him. miguel shuts his eyes and turns away from you, concealing the tears and guilt.

“gabriel died in combat.”

your heart drops at the heartbreaking revelation.

gabriel died?… now it all makes sense why he was so hesitant to talk about his brother.

he lost him.

miguel fought hard against the tears but no avail, he allowed the dam to break. you don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him and pull him into a tight embrace, which he accepts immediately. collapsing into your arms, holding you tightly, gripping onto the material of your cardigan as if he’s afraid to let you go, that you would slip out of his arms just like gabriel, as he sobs into your shoulder.

each sob of his breaks a piece of your heart, to the point of your own eyes swelling into tears. it hurts you to hear him break down but you are there to catch him. you embrace his sobbing, shaking figure tightly. digging your fingers into his hair, his grip on your tightens as a response. you don’t ever let go.

“lo siento mucho, miguel…” your soft voice whispers in his ear, making him embrace you tighter.

you feel utterly heartbroken for him. he lost his baby brother in combat, that is traumatic. by what miguel has told you, he and gabriel had a great sibling relationship. he was always by gabriel side for everything. miguel deeply cared about his baby brother. the one person who understood him.

eventually, miguel’s sobs die down and manages to catch his breath after releasing an infinite amount of tears. that left a large wet stain on your cardigan but you don’t care, miguel was all that mattered.

very slowly, his head rises from your now soaked shoulder and leans back to give you some space but still remains close. you look at him but his glossy eyes don’t meet yours. with such tenderness, you wipe his tears with your thumb as you cradle his face. miguel still doesn’t look back but gently rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. you simply sit there in silence, basking one another’s presence as miguel takes time to calm down.

after a few minutes of silence, you decide to break it by whispering to him. “you okay?…”

miguel nods slowly and exhales heavily, leaning into your touch as you continue caressing his face. he had to catch his breath to calm down but really you were what calmed him down. utterly melting under your touch, the softness and warmth of your body relaxes him immediately. you are his anchor.

“i was sacred…” barely a whisper yet laced with such remorse and regret. “i was scared of losing you and the baby like i lost gabriel.”

you look up at him with furrowed brows of concern but he still hasn’t meet your eyes.

“losing us? you won’t lose us, amor.” you reassure him in a gentle manner, caressing his cheeks as a way to make him look at you but no avail.

miguel leans away and finally looks back, frowning however. “i failed gabriel, what if i fail you? i failed to protect him, what if i fail to protect you both?”

you shake your head frantically. “you won’t, miguel. what happened to gabriel wasn’t your fault—”

“yes it was.” he cuts you off, turning away but you stop him by gently gripping his chin to look back.

“no, it was not.” a bit firm but still soft. “i know you blame yourself but it wasn’t your fault. just know that gabriel was happy to be with his brother, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere or anyone else but you.”

those glossy brown eyes soften a little by your words. perhaps you’re right, gabriel was at least safe in his arms during his last moments. at least miguel was there with him. it would have been worse if it was any other scenario and miguel didn’t want to think that.

“miguel, escúchame…” those same soft brown eyes look up at you as you cradle his face. “i know you’re afraid and now i understand why… but i promise you won’t lose us, you won’t fail us. we won’t go anywhere, we’ll always be here, with you.”

miguel swears he could cry once again. all he can do is just stare at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. heart sudden refilled with love that you always provide. those ugly doubts and fears slowly fade away by your words of comfort and reassurance. he rests his hands on top of yours, gives them a gentle squeeze then brings them up to his lips and places a soft kiss to them as a sign of affection and gratitude. the act emits a soft smile on your face.

“i know we just had a heartbreaking conversation but… i still need to know what happened those three weeks.” you look at him hesitantly.

miguel knows you’re right. he admitted his fears and reasons but still hasn’t fully explained himself, especially during those shitty three weeks.

“i know…” his hands release yours as he leans away, turning away to run a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. “i… i have this hidden cabin off the outskirts of town, that’s where i stayed during those weeks. i didn’t do anything. i barely ate or slept, always had nightmares every time.”

your brows furrowed concerningly. “nightmares?”

another heavy sigh escapes his lips. “of you and the baby… me dying in combat and leaving you alone with the baby… failing you both…”

another revelation that shatters your heart. his trauma has worsened to the extent of having nightmares of dying and losing his family.

this poor, poor man.

“my phone was completely off, i never received any calls or texts. when i did turned it back on, i saw your text about your doctors appointment and i cried…”

your eyes widen slightly in surprise. he… cried?

“you went alone… i wasn’t there for you… i hatred myself for that, i still do.”

the unpleasant memory of your first appointment flashed across your mind. how utterly heartbroken and abounded you felt sitting in the waiting area full of couples. how anxious you felt when you entered the examination room, learning about your pregnancy, and seeing your baby for the first time. how angry you felt when you mentioned to your OB that miguel wasn’t in the picture.

one last sigh from his lips before miguel turns to you with pleading eyes. “mi alma, i know what i did is unforgivable and i’ll forever regret it for the rest of my fucking life. no amount of sorrys could ever take away the pain i caused you. i hurt you and i will never forgive myself. you have every reason to hate me, i deserve it all.” very slowly, his hand gently takes yours. “but know that i love you, i never stopped loving you and never will. eres mi mundo, mi corazón, mi alma gemela, todo.”

it was impossible to not feel bashful by all the adorable endearments. every nickname miguel gave you, it never fails to make your heart flutter.

“i know i can’t go back change the past, i know i can’t take away your pain from those three weeks but i promise you that i want to be part of this.” miguel said sincerely, eyes boring into yours. “i want to have this baby with you, i want to be a father, i want to be a family and raise this baby contigo.”

sudden a rush of adoration flows through you, almost overwhelming but… in a good way? his behavior since last night proved how different he was, he’s still the same kind man you fell in love with and how he wasn’t against having the baby. the way his eyes widen then soften and smiled when he touched your baby bump for the first time proved to you that miguel already loved the baby. you want nothing more than for him to be a part of this family and have this baby together. but that doesn’t mean the consequences of his actions are ignored.

“i… i’m so happy to hear that, miguel, and i want nothing more than to do this together but…” your tone turns more serious. “i can’t forgive you, not yet.”

miguel expected that and he did not blame you one bit because he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness.

“you hurt me, miguel. i know it was bomb dropping news, it was a shitshow, i take part for being irresponsible about the pill, and that it triggered your fears but you hurt me real fucking bad.”

he did and miguel will never forgive himself.

“those were the shittiest three weeks of my life. you weren’t there when i needed you the most.”

he can hear the hurt in your voice and it pains his heart. he has caused so much damage.

“now that you’re here, i’m gonna tell you this.”

miguel’s attention is precise and solely on you, prepared for what you will say.

you look up straight in his eyes with pure sincerity. “if you want to be a part of this, you have to work for it. show me that you want this.”

miguel understands completely. prove his commitment to this family, to you and the baby. and goddamn he will, miguel will do everything he can to prove to you that he wants this.

“i will, i promise, mi amor.” his hands give yours a gentle squeeze, signifying his words.

you believe him.

this is the beginning of rebuilding your relationship. it will require lots of progress but you have faith miguel will prove himself and the love will soon be restored.

it’s a good starting point.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @lovehadlovelost @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @asterrrrose @glossygreene @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @totallygyomeiswife @mcmiracles @celestialgarden23 @tatatida @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj @nocturne-light @xenop0p @juneonhoth @ghostsdoll @marshmallowsforever @ibelyss @imissubaee ( if you’re not tagged, age/age-range is require since this fic is 18+, context for reasons why )

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[ffsjustletmesleep]

Silent Bonds: Chapter One.

Daryl Dixon x Reader

word count: 2.4k

(trying my best to be inclusive)

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of gore, fighting, nothing too serious for this chapter I’m 99% sure)

(I just wanna say thank you all so much for all the support, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of the series, I really liked this one! I’m aware I skipped some stuff, I was really tired writing this so I apologize if its not as good, this is my first written series)

When the world went to shit, you were in your apartment sleeping; yeah, you were asleep while the apocalypse was starting. How ironic, right? You woke up to the sounds of your neighbor screaming, only for you to run out and see his wife, dead but alive, eating him alive in the hallway of your apartment complex. What the fuck kind of nightmare were you in? Oh wait- you weren’t dreaming, this was real, and shit was just getting started.

Atlanta, Georgia. The hot air, the busy people, you didn’t hate it, nor did you love it; you grew up on the nice side of the city, at least. Decent people, you had a decent education, a few friends who didn't bother calling you back most of the time but that's alright. You had Daryl anyway. Who was Daryl? Your friend, well, that's what you thought of him to be anyway; the fucker wouldn’t even speak to you most of the time, but you knew the two of you were close without having to talk all the time; your actions proved enough throughout the years.

How did you meet Daryl? A pretty shitty memory, but him and his brother, Merle, beat the crap out of some boys who were bothering you after school; he didn’t go to your school, he was a little older, in fact, and he lived in the shittier side of the city. Simple as that, right? Wrong. Daryl Dixon was the most complicated, stubborn, and annoying person you’ve ever met. He’d take you with him on his hunting trips, but if you even breathed wrong, he’d leave your ass in the middle of nowhere. You had no idea why you were friends with this guy, but you couldn’t stay away from him.

That's why you’re out now, walking around the city you once called home; it looked like hell now, filled with the dead, blood, and guts, packed cars just left out in the open. You felt alone without him, which is why you were looking for him and praying for his safety in this world that it had become within mere hours.

You managed to make it out of the street and into the woods, trudging along the dirt's imaginary path, letting it take you wherever it felt like it. You walked up a hill, peering through the trees as you heard some people talking. Your eyes met a group of people near a quarry. Stepping out from behind the trees, you decided you would confront the group, making sure to slip your crossbow over your shoulder before approaching their camp.

“Uh..Hello?” you called out as their heads snapped in your direction. Your hand raised to shield your eyes from the sun, you looked at them and stopped in your tracks. “I don’t mean no harm; I’m just looking for someone—wondering if you’ve seen a..” you paused. Looking around, you saw a few kids, men and women, doing the laundry, talking.

“He’s a tall guy with a real pissy attitude and has a crossbow, like this one,” you continued as you gestured to the crossbow on your back. However, by the looks they were giving you, they had no clue who you were talking about.

After conversing with a few group members, you’d convinced them to let you stay and set up a tent near the others. Once you settled, you decided to rest for a while, sighing softly and sitting on your sleeping bag as you looked down at your crossbow, fiddling with the string before you laid down and decided to get some rest.

A few weeks passed as you got to know some more of the people in the group: Carol, Ed, and their daughter, Sophia; Lori and her husband, who had recently found his way to the camp with the help of Glenn; their son, Carl; and the rest of the group.

You enjoyed Glenn’s company and his jokes. He always shared his candy bars with you after dinner, which you appreciated. Carol was a sweet older woman who gave you some new clothes and taught you how to do the laundry in the water since there were no washing machines. Her daughter Sophia was the sweetest, always playing with your hair or following you around.

The same with Carl. When you weren't so busy, the three of you would play tag or hide-and-seek around the camp. You’d also help them with their school work so Lori and Carol didn't have to stop what they were doing.

You were folding your clothes in the RV once you finished with everyone else's before you heard Carl yelling for his mother, your head perking up as he sounded frightened. You grabbed your crossbow and rushed out of the RV, following behind Rick, Shane, Lori, Dale, and a few others before Carl came running and whining into his mother's arms. You let out a breath of relief as you saw that he was okay before bringing Lori and Carl back to the RV to calm down as the men dealt with the Geek situation.

Lori gave him some water and sat next to him as she rubbed his back, waiting for him to calm down. After making sure both of them were okay, you went back to folding your clothes. After a while, you heard Rick, Shane, and the rest coming back. You picked up your clothes and stepped out of the RV with a sigh, about to ask if they were alright before you heard a familiar voice.

“Merle! Get ya’ ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel!” a man shouted, his voice all too familiar. Your eyes darted to the man as he set his stuff near the campfire. “Let's stew ‘em up,” he continued before turning around and walking to the RV, immediately noticing you as he stopped.

You felt the air leave your chest as you dropped your clothes on the plush grass beneath your feet, staring at the man while your eyes widened. Were you dreaming, or was he actually standing right in front of you?

“Daryl...?” you breathed out, and before you knew it, you pulled your crossbow off your shoulder and dropped it to the ground before rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around him. You let out a small breathy laugh as you hugged him tightly, taking in his familiar scent and warmth as you held him.

Daryl let out a small grunt as your body collided with his, his hands grasping your waist as he held you loosely. “Y/N?? The hell’re ya doin’ here..?” he spoke before letting go of you and stepping back to look at you, his hard expression never leaving your happy one. However, his eyes held a slight softness at the fact you were safe.

“I found this place while I was out looking for you- Daryl, oh my god, I’m so glad you’re okay, you asshole, you had me worried!” you smacked his chest, which he immediately responded with a grunt.

“Damnit, ya’ know I’m fine. I can take care of myself..” he grumbled before giving you one last glance and looking away with a scoff. “Where’s Merle? Tell ’em to get his stupid ass out ‘ere,” he muttered as he looked around.

“Merle?..what’re you talkin’ about, Daryl? He hasn't been here..” you asked, confused as you looked up at him. “I figured he’d be with you,” you continued.

Daryl looked at you quietly as you mentioned his brother wasn't here. Shane came up behind the two of you as he cleared his throat. “Daryl, there's something I gotta talk to you about,” he spoke as he rubbed his chin. “There was a problem in Altana.” He glanced at you before his eyes landed on Daryl.

Daryl kept quiet a moment longer as he looked around as everyone started staring at him, he was shifted on his feet. “Is he dead?” he asked, looking over at Shane, his eyebrows furrowing. Your hand came up to rest on his arm as you looked at Shane, worried.

Shane looked at him as he let out a small breath. “We’re not sure..” he muttered as he bit his lip. Daryl let out a small scoff as he grew irritated, quickly responding after Shane had finished.

“He either is or he ain't!” Daryl shrugged your hand away and took a few steps around Shane as he looked at him, his eyes narrowing. Rick stepped in as he spoke up. “There's no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.” he walked up to Daryl as he looked at him.

“Who’re you?” Daryl scoffed as he turned to look at Rick, anger starting to show on his face as he stared at Rick, waiting for him to continue. Rick looked at Daryl, seeing the frustration on his face. “Rick Grimes,” he admitted.

“Rick Grimes, you got somethin’ you wanna tell me?” Daryl stepped closer to him. Rick spoke up before Daryl could continue. “Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof and hooked him to a piece of metal. He’s still there,” he confessed.

Daryl turned away and let out a small breath as he rubbed his nose. “Hol’ on, lem’me process this..” he turned back to face him before continuing. “You handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there!?” he shouted, stepping closer to Rick once more.

Rick kept quiet for a few moments before responding. “Yeah..” he muttered, looking away, his expression complex.

Your eyes widened at what you heard; they handcuffed Merle down with Geeks walking around?! You saw Daryl's face as his lips turned into an angry frown before he threw the squirrels off his back at Rick and darted at him, only to get tackled by Shane.

“Daryl!” you gasped as you stepped closer to them, rushing over to him and quickly helping him up; he pulled away and took out his knife before slashing it at Rick. Shane came up behind Daryl and put him in a chokehold. “You’d best let me go!” Daryl grunted as he breathed heavily into Shane’s arms. “Choke holdin’s Illegal!”

The three of them had a small discussion before Shane let go of Daryl. Once they had finished the discussion, Daryl almost choked up but held it back. Lori had practically told Rick that he was gonna show Daryl where they had handcuffed Merle, and Rick reluctantly agreed with his wife.

You grasped Daryl’s arms as they finished talking, looking up at him worried. “Daryl, are you okay?” you asked as he looked down at you annoyed and pent up. “Come on, just relax, okay? Rest for a bit before you go.” You ignored his scowl before picking up your clothes and your crossbow and pulling him along to your tent, sitting him inside as you put your stuff down.

Daryl sat quietly on your sleeping bag as he eyed the crossbow you had, frowning at the sight, though he calmed down. “You still have that thing?..” he asked with a mutter before picking it up and messing with it. You looked at him quietly before smiling. “Of course I do, Daryl. It's the only thing I thought I had left of you..” you sighed as you sat beside him.

Daryl looked over at you as he felt his ears turn red, quickly looking back at your crossbow with a slight grumble of something incoherent. The two of you sat in silence for a while, you lying back on your sleeping bag as he looked down at you. “I went lookin’ for you, ya know?” he muttered.

You looked up at him as your eyes widened, your face reddened as you smiled. “Really..? I couldn't find you anywhere, Daryl. I guess I still suck at the whole tracking thing..” you murmured with a small embarrassed laugh.

He let out a small grunt as he smiled slightly. “Yeah, hell, I made it to yer apartment, an’ it was trashed..thought somethin’ happened to ya’. Me n’ Merle looked everywhere for ya, Sunshine.” he admitted before looking away. You stared at him quietly, blushing even more as you huffed and looked up at the tent’s ceiling, you loved that nickname.

“I left as fast as I could..poor Mr. Shepherd was being eaten in the frickin hallway by his wife..I guess that's what he gets for having an affair..” you chuckled as you shook your head. Daryl snorted as he heard about your neighbor. Looking at you once more, biting his lip as if he struggled to say something. Finally, he let out a sigh and spoke. “M’ glad you’re okay..” he spoke softly, looking at you with a soft look he’d given you once or twice.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest. You opened your mouth to speak before you heard Rick calling for him. You both looked at each other for another moment before he got up and left your tent. You followed shortly after, grabbing your crossbow on the way out as you caught up to them.

“Wait! I’m coming with you guys!” you said as you pulled the strap over your head. Daryl looked back at you and let out a huff. “The hell you are, you ain't goin’ nowhere, Sunshine.” Daryl’s eyes narrowed at you as he spoke sternly.

“Daryl, you can't be serious-” You looked at him, shocked as you got cut off. “I am serious, yer stayin’ here. Where it's safe.” he pointed at the camp as he looked at you. You looked at him as you began to grow annoyed.

“The hell are you talkin’ about? I just got you back! And you're saying I’m supposed to stay here? What if you don’t come back? What am I supposed to do then?!” you shouted at him as you flailed your hands with a gesture of your own words.

“You don’t do nothin! You stay here, an’ ya’ wait for me to come back!” Daryl growled as he leaned closer. “I ain’t lettin’ ya get yerself killed out there, Y/N!” he continued before he turned around and walked away frustrated.

You watched him as he walked off, Rick and Glenn following behind him with T-Dog. Your heart beat heavily as you let out a frustrated scowl before retreating to your tent. This always happened with Daryl. You get along one minute, then you say something stupid, and he snaps at you and leaves you all angry. You hated it, but you knew he was right. You didn't have much experience out in this world like he did.

You lay in your tent as you stared at the ceiling, the frustration slowly leaving you as you grew tired. You missed him, you’d found him, and he was already gone again, but the smell of him still lingered in your tent as it slowly drifted you to sleep.

Thank you for reading the first chapter of my new series, Silent Bonds! I appreciate the love you all have given me, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm not used to writing anything longer than 1-2k, but I tried my best, I’ll try and make them longer as I go on! Thank you for all your love and support. I’m so happy to be making this for you guys!

>Chapter Two

Tag list: @dixons-sunshine @missriddle03 (lmk if u wanna be added to the tag list 🫶🏻)

[mercy-burning]

A Weekend In Paradise (Summer of Sin Bonus Chapter)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: A couples' weekend vacation with Y/N, her fake boyfriend, her mom, and her real boyfriend, who also happens to be her mom's boyfriend... What could possibly be more relaxing? Category: MATURE (18+) Content: Strong language, cheating, female masturbation, kinda non-con (previously mentioned masturbation is happening while an unaware party is asleep in the same bed), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, omorashi/piss kink, daddy kink, "little girl" nickname, car sex, grinding, brief handjob, praise, biting/marking. (This one is pure fucking filth, y'all, buckle UP LMAO) Word Count: 7k

MAIN MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know summer is literally over and we're all in autumn mode, but better late than never, right? ANYWAY, it's been an absolute pleasure re-reading this series and finishing it out with more shenanigans. These two and their messy asses are always so much fun to write, and I think about them all the time. In the timeline, this chapter takes place between parts 2 and 3 of “Your Favorite” if you want to put it in sequence with the other parts :) Have fun, and thank you for being patient with me. I hope this was worth the wait!

**********

FRIDAY

The only thing warmer than the blazing sun above me, the only thing that could burn me to the greatest extent until I was nothing but a pile of ash, is the way Spencer is staring at me right now.

Mom is reading a book quietly, laying her legs over his lap as they lounge on the loveseat, and Andrew is with me on the patio, rubbing sunscreen on my limbs. Even though we're far enough apart so no one can hear any conversation from the other party, the unspoken jealousy radiating from both Spencer and I is loud enough to drown out an entire concert venue.

Maybe it's cruel, and I'll probably catch shit for it later, but I can't stop smiling. It's easy for me to imagine that it's his hands gliding over my skin while I'm staring directly at him, and he's returning said stare with so much intensity that it might as well be magically willing my bathing suit to come off. Andrew's deft fingers tease the thin string at the edge of my hip and I laugh, playfully reaching back to swat at his hand.

"They're right inside, you know..."

He gets up to look, but still feeling Spencer's red-hot gaze, I quickly turn Andrew around and kiss him deeply, cradling his face in my hands and pressing into him with a laugh.

He pulls away just enough to speak. "Well, then let's go somewhere they aren't..."

"Mmm... Might be too obvious. He's smart, he'll know something's up if we're quick to run off."

"If you're quick to run off, you mean..."

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just an innocent bystander..." Andrew leans in and pecks my mouth sweetly, his voice just as gentle when he speaks. "Your only goal this weekend is to taunt him, and he knows it." Another peck. "If you run off with me this easily, you figure he'll be onto our little scheme." And another. "But if you play it right and act all inconvenienced by my... urgency..." Another kiss, this one a bit longer and definitely more sensual. "He might just feel bad enough to make it up to you later."

"You think?"

"I don't actually know. Probably." He reaches for my hands and helps me off the lounge swing, and I feel wobbly. "But what I do know is that you think too much. That man wants you so bad, he's going to find a way to spend time alone with you this weekend, whether we're making out in front of him or not. Just... Loosen up. Have a little fun."

The two of us are attached at the hip as we sneak out of eyesight from the patio screen door, and from Mom and Spencer.

"Loosen up? Do you realize how serious this situation is, Andy? One wrong move and my life is over."

"Look. I'm not judging you, and it's none of my business. But you put yourself in this situation on your own. And I'm happy to help you out, but you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

He's not wrong. I could stop this at any point, and I could've from the start if I wanted to... But I don't want to, and that's just it. I've dug the hole, and if it means getting to spend time alone with Spencer for even the smallest amount of time, I'd gladly lay down and die in it.

So. 'Loosen up and have a little fun' it is.

I take a deep breath and smile up at Andrew, patting him on the shoulder. "Yes. I can do that."

———

"I can't do it."

"Mmmmm, you and I both know that isn't true. You've come much faster under more stressful circumstances. Should be easy for you."

He's not wrong, yet I can't help but frown at Spencer's request anyway. I've been in a shitty mood all day, despite my discussion with Andrew earlier on. It's nearing nightfall, and with hardly any attention from the person I wanted it from, to say I'm now desperate is a severe understatement. There's still some time left until the two of us can properly sneak away, but even so, we have a moment alone and all he wants is to watch me get myself off in the bathroom upstairs while Mom and Andrew set the table out on the porch for a small, late dinner.

"Yeah, but you usually help me with that..."

Spencer only grins at my whining, tilting his head as he stands at the sink with his arms crossed, watching my hand at work. "If you're going to flaunt your boyfriend at me all weekend, then you're going to deal with the consequences."

"You're fucking my mom, Spencer, and you flaunt it at me every fucking day of my life... Cut me some slack."

"Aw. You're grumpy."

"Fuck you."

"You wish, don't you?"

I huff and get up off the edge of the bathtub, flipping my skirt back down and shaking my head. "You know what, forget it. If you wanna be difficult, then you can suck my dick."

"I'm not giving you what you want until I watch you come."

"Whatever."

I breeze past him and shut the door, hoping he'll follow and pull me into a bedroom and just fuck me anyway, but deep down I know he won't. He's a man of his word. It's simultaneously the best and worst thing about him.

The rest of the evening passes by slowly, which only sours my mood even more every time I look at my phone and realize that only a few minutes have passed.

I'd thought at least maybe Spencer would ease up and take the role of "Eve's Loving and Devoted Boyfriend" to the bare minimum, however that's promptly not the case. I don't know if he's doing it to piss me off and get me to cave, or if he's just over my bullshit and being his genuine, caring self to the woman he's in a relationship with... Either way, I practically feel my insides boiling over and my face burning red. I'm jealous, I'm grumpy as he so eloquently put it, and I'm so sexually frustrated that I'm seriously considering just running off to my bedroom and pulling out a vibrator, Spencer be damned. Fuck his rules, fuck his 'consequences', and fuck this whole damned weekend straight to hell.

My eyes wander to the lounge swing where Spencer and Mom are almost falling asleep, her head resting on his shoulder, and an inordinately evil image etches itself into my brain. Evil might sound harsh, but it's truly the only accurate word I could use to describe the feeling as it runs its course through my bloodstream. And when the breeze picks up and cools me off, within a mere second I realize just how insane I'd be for even entertaining it.

Even as our two groups say our goodbyes for the night, and I recount the day's failure to Andrew just before he falls asleep, I'm still going back and forth.

Loosen up. Have a little fun.

The situation at hand is decidedly not fun.

That being said, the possible look on Spencer's face after I'd do what I'm thinking? Taking his rules and throwing them in his face? That sounds fun.

My mind is already made up by the time I reach their door, gently pushing it open and letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, which isn't terribly bad to start with. There is a giant open floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the beach, and subsequently the moonlight reflects off the water and into the bedroom. It's still dark, but not enough to where I can't see where I'm going.

Each soft step I take sends my heart rate higher and higher until I reach my destination at Spencer's side of the bed. Call it what you want, but I figure it's damn lucky that he's facing towards the room and not towards my mom, otherwise waking him up would have been a much more difficult feat.

I brush strands of hair away from his forehead and then tap him gently on the nose. I almost think it won't work, but then he shakes his head and flutters open his eyes, and that's when my heart leaps straight out of my chest.

This just became real.

There's no going back now.

He's shocked to see me standing above him, obviously, and before he can say or do anything, I put a finger to his mouth and imitate a shh with my own.

I wait for his eyesight to adjust and for him to realize what my intentions are, and right before it happens, my finger lifts from his mouth and rests on his bare chest as I balance myself, lifting my right leg to the pillow, right next to his head.

There's a deep, concerned warning in his eyes, but it dissolves the second he glances down to see that under my thin silk nightdress there's no tangible barrier between himself and my slick cunt. Even if the darkness prevents him from getting the best look, it's not a secret what I'm doing. My right hand drapes down as I start to touch myself gently, and fortunately it doesn't take long to start feeling that familiar sharp ache of desire pulsing through my lower half. Spencer's wide eyes and heavy breathing tacked on to the sheer danger I'm putting myself in to do this have made me wet in an instant.

I force myself not to think about the sleeping woman next to him and instead keep my eyes locked with his. It feels almost like a dream, like if I get distracted and lose his gaze then I will be doomed to lose it for good, and no matter how hard I try to remember it when I wake, it will be nothing but a distant feeling. The stakes right now have quite literally never been higher.

Now, there are a lot of things I'm not proud of. Helping my mom's boyfriend cheat on her is probably the biggest offender for obvious reasons. But as I've learned, sometimes those things end up being totally worth it.

Faking an orgasm also happens to be one of those things.

It's risky, I know. Spencer is the smartest person I know. It's not a stretch to believe that he could call my bluff. I also happen to be unfortunately seasoned in the art of faking orgasms (thankfully due to my time seeing men before sleeping with Spencer). The determination I have to get him to fuck me before this first night of our vacation is over is the cherry on top of my evil scheme.

So, I rock my hips into my hand, lock eyes with Spencer, and fake the fuck out of it. And thankfully, faking being quiet in this particular situation is ten times easier than faking being loud. It's a fool-proof plan.

I barely 'finish' before Spencer grabs my wrist and softly sits up in the bed. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, because his face doesn't even twitch. It almost looks like he's angry, but I have a hard time believing he would be. It could also be the concoction of desperation and anxiety coursing through my nervous system making me make that up. Either way, I know I'm going to find out very soon.

Spencer gets out of bed quietly, dragging me behind him. He shuts the bedroom door with barely any sound, and it's impressive considering he'd just woken up a few minutes ago. I suppose though, a man on a mission is a man on a mission no matter how drowsy; The moment we're down the stairs and out the back door to the porch, he's backing me up to the table where we'd eaten dinner, my legs nearly buckling before he lifts me up and sets me down on top of it.

"You're insane," he whispers, closing the gap between us just a millisecond after.

I welcome his kiss and melt into him, snaking my arms over his shoulders and wrapping my legs around his waist. He tilts his head hungrily, deepening the kiss, and I can't help but groan at the inclusion of his tongue.

"Insanely irresistible," I finally counter back when we part for air.

He kisses me again, quickly, adding, "Insanely bratty," and then he reaches down to touch the heat between my legs. I've gone long enough without it that I involuntarily drop my head back with a sigh of relief at his touch, breathing out, "Fuck, I need you..."

I half-expected him to keep bantering with me, but instead he leans forward and latches onto my neck, surely leaving hickeys behind as his fingers work inside me. It feels good, but it's not enough. I need more.

More...

I hadn't even realized I'd been breathlessly chanting the word into the air until Spencer groans and removes himself from me to pull his lounge pants down far enough to free his erection and slide into me with ease. He swallows my moan with his mouth, holding himself inside me and kissing me so deeply I can barely breathe. The cool night air sends a blanket of chills over my limbs, and for a moment in time, it's just me, him, and the ocean crashing beside us.

It's almost like we become a part of it, wave after wave of pleasure and relief passing through us with each harsh crash of water over sand. Skin against skin, tongue over lip and tooth.

We could have been out there for hours, and I wouldn't have known any different. All I know for sure is that it's me and Spencer. Just as it should be.

Even after we both reach our end, we remain still in our embrace, my limbs weak but still wrapped around him. Safe. He strokes the back of my head and kisses me lazily, drawing out every last ounce of happiness from my body and soul until he pulls away finally and I remember where we are. The situation at hand. How horrible I feel at what I'd just done in front of my sleeping mother.

God, you are so fucked up...

"You're right. I'm insane."

Spencer tenses at my words, then sighs. "I'm not any better."

"I don't know how I'm going to get through this," I confess. "I wish it was just me and you. I wish it didn't have to be this way."

"I know, Y/N..."

He doesn't say anything after that, and I don't either. Part of me wants him to reassure me that everything will be okay, but the rational part of me knows deep down that I don't deserve it. Also that it probably wouldn't even work anyway.

I'm too far into this pit of hell for any kind of redemption, and I'm just going to have to deal with it.

Which is why, when Spencer walks me up to my bedroom and gently kisses me goodnight after helping to clean me up, I simply slink away to bed and will myself to sleep, feeling completely numb despite getting exactly what I wanted.

SATURDAY

"Pancakes are done!"

I feel miles better than I did yesterday, maybe because Spencer had padded into my room early this morning to uh... Pay me back for the stunt I pulled last night. I couldn't deny the smile on my face when I woke to his body standing over mine, palming himself through his pants as Andrew slept soundly next to me.

Rather than watch him though, I quietly sat up and lent him a helping hand.

And mouth.

Whatever negativity we'd encountered yesterday had magically vanished, and now I can't help but feel like it's going to be a good day.

It also helps that Andrew made pancakes and bacon.

"These look great, Andy," Mom compliments, sitting down at the head of the table. "Better than mine."

"Nonsense," I tell her. "Yours have confetti sprinkles."

"Yes, but they're always burnt." Spencer kisses the side of her head as he stands behind her, but his eyes are on me, an evil grin on his lips. "No offense, Dear."

I want to strangle him.

"Not all of us can be masters of the frying pan... But I try."

"You do great, Mom, don't listen to him. He may know everything, but he doesn't know everything."

He feigns hurt, putting a hand over his heart and pouting, and I can't help but smile. Mom does, too, and for a moment, it feels like we can all get along without complicated feelings and desires putting a damper on our weekend.

Andrew fixes up his plate last, and when he sits down next to me, his hand finds mine under the table, tapping my palm twice—our signal for "everything good?"

I tap his back, a confirmation that for right now, I'm okay.

Breakfast is enjoyable, and I don't know what the day will bring, but I don't have any panic or dread settling in my bones, and Spencer and I aren't staring daggers into the back of each others' heads, so until that point arises again I decide to stuff my mouth with food and just revel in the calm.

Mom perks up as we're finishing the last few bites of our plates. "There's a big flea market a few towns over today, I thought we could go check it out after breakfast. It's supposed to be a nice half-hour drive along the coast, and they've got live music and tons of food."

"Mmm, sounds great, Mom," I say through a bite of food, swallowing it before continuing. "Maybe on the way back we can stop somewhere and get stuff to finish the patio."

Grandma's beach house is nice, but it's old, which means the patio screens are littered with holes and other wear and tear. Part of the reason we'd decided to come here was to make it look nice and figure out what repairs need to be done before we help her sell it, and that patio needs... Well, it needs a little more than some new screen-doors, but that was the start.

Spencer nudges my foot under the table and speaks up. "I don't do so well in the car after I eat, so I can actually stay back and start working on getting the porch cleared out and take measurements for what you need if you want to go ahead without me."

"Oh, are you sure, Honey?" Mom grabs his hand. "We can wait a little to go if you want."

"Really, it's okay. It's a beautiful morning, you should take advantage of it. I'll take the other car and meet you there in an hour or two."

"Well, okay, if you're sure. I just feel bad leaving you behind..."

He nudges me under the table again.

"I can stay and help," I offer then, suddenly feeling my chest warm up from the inside at the opportunity. Then it's my turn to do the nudging. I tap Andrew's hand under the table and look at him. "I mean, you don't mind hanging out with my mom for a bit, do you?"

I'm so glad he's quick at catching on. And I will love him forever for what he's doing for me. I make a mental note to send him gift baskets for life when he nods and gives my mom his best smile. "I don't mind at all."

I turn to Mom. "Yeah, I'll call you when we've got everything handled and then Spencer and I can just meet you guys down there." I turn to him then, hoping to make it seem more like a natural development of a last-second plan rather than an evil scheme. "If you want the company, that is. I didn't mean to intrude or anything."

He smiles. "I don't mind the help at all, but it's totally up to you and your mom."

Mom practically fawns over her boyfriend and grabs his hand with a lovesick pout, which makes me feel really bad for what we're probably about to do the second she leaves. "No, I think it'll be good for you two to spend some time together. It makes me happy to see my two favorite people getting along."

"Then it's a perfect plan for me," Spencer beams at her, kissing the back of her hand.

———

We wait until we can't see the car anymore, until it's so far in the distance that we're positive we won't be seen. Spencer wants to wait longer in case Mom decides she forgot something and needs to come back, but I know that Andrew will text me if anything happens. Spencer is right here next to me, his hand steady on my lower back as he guides me through the house.

We're alone, not doing anything yet, and it feels like torture.

So on the way to the bedroom, I squeeze his hand and depart, hoping to kill some time—to ease his mind as well as my anxiety.

"I'm gonna pee quick and then you can have your way with me, yeah?"

Spencer reaches out for my hand again, pulling me to him and not letting me go, a glint of something mischievous in his eye. It shocks and excites me simultaneously. "But I want my way with you now."

His lips are on mine, and he's backing me into the wall, picture frames gently rattling in the hallway once my back is flush to the drywall. I melt into him with a laugh.

"We have time," I tell him between kisses, trying to get away. "I'll be quick, I promise."

"No," he grunts, kissing me again, deep and earnest.

I whine at the excitement that burns in the pit of my stomach, but I also do really have to pee. "Spencer, please."

"Hold it," he demands through gritted teeth, kissing my neck and then slotting his knee between my legs.

I clench instinctively, and I can't help but test the waters. "Or what?"

"Or I can tell your mother what a bad girl you were today. So unhelpful, wasting my time and giving me back-talk. She'll be so disappointed in you."

"Wow, Spence. Threatening me with my mother, how kind of you," I retort, even though his words are undoing me. I grind down on his leg and feel my bladder pulse with need. My teeth grit when he bites down on my shoulder.

"I'm a kind man."

"Kinda mean, maybe," I whimper.

"Not really. All you have to do is hold it, pretty girl. That's all I ask."

His knee lifts higher and I moan to the air. "Fuck. Spencer, I don't think I can."

"You will."

I have a brief moment of reprieve when he drops his leg, but it doesn't last long because he brings his hand down in its place, deft fingers slipping under the band of my shorts and toying with my clit.

"That's not fair," I sigh, weaving my fingers through his hair.

He smiles, nipping at my jaw. "Aw, poor thing."

His fingers are relentless, rotating between flicking at my clit and plunging into me and spreading me apart, and it's making it extremely difficult to do what he's asking. I feel an orgasm building rather quickly, but I can't quite tell if that's just because I'm so turned on, if it's my bladder, or both. My thighs are trembling and the pressure is getting tighter.

"Fuck, I— I can't... I'm g—onna..."

The orgasm rips through me beautifully, a brand new feeling that I have to sort-of subside to keep from completely letting go all over his hand, but I can't help it. My hips cant back and forth, and I feel my shorts warm a little as I come down, and suddenly I clench my legs together, whimpering and stopping myself from continuing. The pressure hasn't let up at all, and now it's even harder to hold back.

"I'm sorry... I'm... I'm still trying."

Spencer captures my mouth in a tender, teasing kiss as he coos, "I know... You're trying so hard." His fingers glide through me softly, and then they're gone and taking my bottoms with them. The fabric falls to the floor, and soon his pants are gone, too.

"Can you hold it a little longer, sweetheart?"

"I can try," I sigh out in one quick breath, looking down and already feeling overwhelmed at the sight of his erection.

I'm not going to last long.

Spencer turns me around and bends me at the waist, using one hand to wrap around me and rub my clit as the other guides himself into me from behind.

I yelp, then groan as he fucks me hard.

My face is pressed flat against the wall, and I try to focus on that feeling instead of this new angle and all the pressure it's putting on me. I'm clenching so hard, and Spencer is loving every second.

"God I love how tight you are, trying to be good for me..."

I want to tell him to stop talking, because his words always push me over the edge, but I have to focus so hard on nothing but this goddamn wall in front of me to keep from making a mess. And with each searing thrust he throws my way, that just becomes harder and harder.

He shifts a little and hits a particularly good spot, making me yell again as I relax and start to lose control— but only for a second. I still want to try, so I clench again and whine as I feel the warm liquid roll down my leg and the beautiful burn I'm feeling.

Spencer groans and goes harder then. He wants me to break, and honestly, it might not be long until I do.

"I know you want to, little girl," he tempts, sliding his hand up to press on my bladder. "Am I making it harder for you? Huh?"

If I could punch him, I would, but I'm afraid all I can do is beg him for release, the pressure almost too much. But because I still like to make things difficult and I'm not completely fucked dumb yet, I decide to add some flare.

"Please, Daddy, can I let go?" I whine, and he pauses with one of his own. I feel his hand slide off my stomach and weave through the roots of my hair instead, pulling me up to meet him.

He whispers hotly in my ear, "If you want to act like a greedy little slut, then by all means. Go right ahead..."

It's hard to tell what his intentions are after we move on from this position, but right now, I don't really care. Because no matter what consequences come with it, it's still permission all the same, and I'm not going to last much longer anyway.

"But I'm not going to keep fucking you through it. That's on you."

There it is.

So, what?

He stays inside me, hard and pulsing with need anyway, so I rock myself back and forth on him and reach down to rub my clit as I bring myself to the edge again. I keep trying to hold it until I'm ready to orgasm, and thankfully that doesn't seem to take very long.

Within seconds, I'm coming. I feel it all with a shout, letting my body tense and release, and Spencer grabs my hips to keep me from falling over. His blunt nails digging into my skin only add to the insane pleasure that courses through my body, and then the dam breaks not long after.

I let go in small spurts, still trying to have some control over how I do this, because I still want to drive him mad. So I turn my head and try to look at him, throwing his words in his face.

"I know you want to fuck me through it, Daddy... I'm still trying to hold it for you, so you can. Please..."

"Fuck," he hisses, giving up and pushing me to the wall again. He snaps his hips back and then forward, and it takes all I am not to scream at how good it feels.

This time I really let it all go, allowing myself to relax and revel in all the sensations coursing through me. Just like I wanted, Spencer fucks me through every second of it, until I have nothing else to give but mindless whimpers of over-stimulation and gratitude.

I don't even realize I'm coming again until my body jolts with the sensation, and then Spencer follows, running his hands along the backside of my body anywhere he can reach as he does.

Once we're both tired enough, he pulls out and gently turns me around to face him. I almost whine at the loss of his warmth, but he's pressing me to the wall again and kissing me before I can protest.

I don't know how long we stand there and make out, but eventually I shiver, feeling cold and... dirty. Don't get me wrong, I definitely don't regret it, because it was hot as fuck, but... Now? In this moment, after the fact?

I pull away from him and sigh. "You should have just let me go to the bathroom. Now we gotta clean this up."

Spencer ponders for a moment, looking down between us and then back up at me before shrugging with a shit-eating grin.

"I told you to hold it. Maybe you should work on listening to me."

I punch him in the arm, and he laughs.

"In your dreams, old man."

———

Evening comes in the blink of an eye, and I swear it's the happiest I've ever been. Sneaking out of the house like a teenager in love with someone she knows is fundamentally wrong for her is probably the most accurate way to describe what's happening, though Spencer is only wrong for me in a completely different way.

All the same, no matter the reason, he makes it hard to remember why.

It feels so good—so deliciously right—after all.

And how couldn't it; I'm absolutely elated, heart beating wildly as I race down the highway with the windows all the way down. Spencer squeezes my hand, trying to let loose, but I can tell he's utterly terrified by my speed. It makes me laugh.

When I finally pull over into a small clearing some miles down a random side-road and put the car in park, he sighs. "Where are we?"

"Dunno. But it's secluded. Moonlit. Romantic."

Each word that escapes me is punctuated with a kiss on each of his fingers.

"It's... Unsettling."

I can't help but laugh again, unbuckling my seatbelt and climbing over to his lap. He shifts uncomfortably but helps me straddle him anyway, rolling the seat back as far as it can go as I tease him with neck kisses.

"Are you afraid of the dark, old man?"

He groans my name in warning when my teeth bite down on his shoulder. I know I can't mark him. It upsets me greatly, but I have to at least give myself a little taste.

So, when his hands tighten around my waist, I whine and settle for his lips. I kiss him eagerly, and by the way he's responding, any qualms about being in this "unsettling" location seem to have vanished. His hands roam my body reverently and eventually help guide my hips as they rock into him with desperate conviction.

I welcome his tongue with my own and thread my fingers through his hair, already feeling the heat of the summer air cling to my body as the air conditioning dissipates. The windows are already starting to fog.

Spencer notices my urgency and breaks apart with a hum of amusement. "What's the matter?"

"I want out of these damn clothes."

"Well, why didn't you just say so?"

I don't even have the energy to tease him back. He's giving me what I want with no obstacles other than the fabric between us, and I couldn't have asked for anything more.

It's a little difficult in such a cramped space, but eventually I am completely bare in front of him, save for my underwear. I've removed Spencer's shirt, but his slacks are still on, and I'm in the process of helping him out of them when he laughs again.

"What?" I ask, eyebrow raised.

"Nothing... I'm just surprised you even wore any underwear to begin with. Surely you knew what was going to happen tonight..."

I roll my eyes, but my smile never wavers. "Do you or do you not remember how this whole thing started? You love my underwear, and you love taking them off of me... I did this for you."

In agreement, he tenderly slips his middle finger under the seam and pulls the fabric to the side, and I nearly whine as he looks me over, the corner of his bottom lip pinched gently between his teeth. He's so fucking hot it physically hurts me. It makes me pathetic.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he finally offers, dragging a careful finger through my seam. I gasp at the sensation and feel myself start to tremble when he gently flicks at my clit. It's so featherlight, barely a touch at all, but still enough to drive me mad.

I need him. Now.

"Anything for you," I breathe, lunging forward to kiss him again. He welcomes me with fire instead of the amusement I'd almost expected from him. Usually, it's a dig at my eagerness, but tonight he's just as eager, just as needy, and the equal reciprocation has me in shambles.

It doesn't take long to find my way to him. I've finally managed to free his erection from fabric confines, and instead of fully sitting on him, I slick him up with my arousal, grinding along the length of him as he leans his head back and curses to the air. The friction is low-simmering and beautiful, and nowhere near enough to get myself off, but that doesn't matter to me right now. It just feels so good, and seeing Spencer tensing and twitching beneath me, feeling his hands tighten over my breasts as I rock back and forth... Reveling in this tension before truly giving into our carnal desires is honestly just as good as the sex itself. If I could etch this feeling, this erotic slow-burn of a moment, into my soul for all eternity, to remember in vivid detail for as long as I was alive and breathing, I would.

I'm so wet, so hot with sweat and aching with desire for this man, I can barely stand it.

My hand reaches down between us and takes him in a firm grip. I stroke him slow and tight, to which Spencer hisses, forcing himself to look down as he shakes his head.

"Fuck, you're perfect..."

The genuine praise makes me tremble again, warmth flooding my bloodstream. I start to quicken my pace, but his hand reaches down to grab my wrist.

"We have to get out of this damned car."

Before I know what's happening, he's opening the door and exposing us to the open air. He leads me outside, then opens the back door and guides me to the back seat, laying me down on my back. I lean up on my elbow to watch as he towers over me, sliding his pants all the way down and watching me with hungry eyes.

I can't help the urge that overtakes me then, readjusting my underwear again so that I'm exposed to him. Ready. Still, no teasing from him about how ready I am. There is only fire burning behind his gaze and a determination to make me feel every single flame as it dances brightly over my skin.

I can tell just by looking at him right now, barely illuminated by the moon in the open sky above us, Spencer is going to absolutely ruin me.

He comes forward and reaches down, both hands tugging at my underwear until they literally tear at the seams. The sound is so jarring and unbelievably hot that feels almost pornographic. I've never been so turned on in my life. He knows it, too, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he tosses the tattered cotton away like it's nothing at all, then proceeds to adjust me to his liking, folding my knees up to my chest and giving himself the deepest angle he can possibly get.

"Ready?" he asks, that fire in his eyes telling me he already knows the answer.

"Always," I tell him, pulling him down to connect our lips.

He pushes into me then, a steady full movement that doesn't falter even once. I take it happily, humming into Spencer's mouth as he starts to move his hips. The car gently rocks underneath me, the smallest of creaks sounding under the upholstery. Between that and the snapping of his skin to mine, the crickets chirping in the background, and the thick, heavy whirring of our breathing being so close together in this small space, it truly does feel like the perfect summer night.

This is what summers are made for. Passion. Heat. Want. Wildfire. Pure sin...

That's what it is. Spencer's teeth leaving unashamed marks on my skin when I'm not allowed to return the favor as he fucks me in the backseat of my mom's old car, nothing around us but the moon, the stars, and the sweltering summer heat... There would be time for guilt later, when we return to the beach house, and possibly even along the drive there. But for now, I don't feel guilty. I'm completely aware of my surroundings, of my situation, and yet there's not an ounce of guilt to be found anywhere in this car.

That alone is the biggest sin of all.

SUNDAY MORNING / 2 A.M. / SPENCER

My limbs are barely awake when I shuffle down the hallway and sigh heavily at the sweet promise of a deep sleep. I feel tense, but I know that's only because I have to keep my departure a secret. I won't fully know peace until my head has hit the pillow and my consciousness has drifted away for the night.

Eve is an early riser. I won't get much sleep, but the few hours I will manage to round up will be worth it. And I'll go to sleep happy.

Y/N is still all over me, which is dangerous. Her aura, her smiles and her laughter, her sighs and her pleas, her fingernails trying not to leave marks on my back even thought it's all I want—All of it is such an enormous part of who I am now, that every second I'm in Eve's presence, I start to wonder if she can feel it. I hope not, but as a man who has proudly worn and reflected the attributes of every woman he's ever loved, it's a scary thought.

So scary, apparently, that it seems to have manifested a near-heart attack. I know I'm not actually having one, but the sharp pain I feel in my chest when I open the bedroom door and find Eve, awake and sitting in bed with a distant look in her eyes, for a split second, could have fooled me.

"You're up early," I say, closing the door and walking to my side of the bed. My heart is beating so fast, my nervous system working on overload to keep up with the amount of signals and sirens that are blaring in my brain.

Eve doesn't look at me, but responds somberly. "So are you."

How long has she been awake? "Yeah. Couldn't sleep. I wanted to take a drive..."

She hesitates for a moment as I climb into bed and nudge her leg with my own.

"Is everything okay?" she asks.

No.

"Yes. I'm sorry if I worried you." I take her hand in mine, but she still can't look at me. It frightens me. "What's wrong?"

"I don't... I don't know... Something just feels weird, and I don't know what or how to explain it."

"Like... With the house?" I feign confusion, easily disguising the fear that lies underneath, and it seems to work; Eve concedes.

"No," she sighs, turning to finally look at me. Her eyes are tired, and she looks like she's embarrassed. "I don't know... I've been getting this weird feeling lately, and then you disappeared for a couple hours tonight, and I guess I just..."

She trails off, and I sigh, hoping to put her mind at ease. "Eve... You know I love you, right?" They're the right words to say, but they feel evil coming out of my mouth. They're... I don't want to say they're not true, because in some way I still do love her. But... Not how she wants me to. Not how she loves me back.

"I know," she cries apologetically, falling her head onto my shoulder with a dramatic thump. It's a mannerism that reminds me so much of her daughter, I feel another sharp twist in my gut. "I'm sorry, Spencer. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"There is nothing wrong with you," I comfort her quickly, squeezing her hand. "It's okay, I promise."

"No, it's not. It isn't fair for me to just assume you aren't happy in this relationship when you've done nothing to show otherwise, and then act all grumpy and accusatory. It wasn't right. I should have just talked to you about my... weirdness, and gotten it out of the way. I'm sorry."

"I appreciate that," I tell her. I'm relieved that she still doesn't know the truth, but my heart is still racing and I can't seem to get those damn warning sirens to quiet in my head. "Still, I'm sorry for worrying you. I wasn't tired, and it seemed like a perfect night for a quiet, mindless drive."

"Mmm, you're right," Eve agrees, leaning into me and glancing out the window. She takes a deep breath and kisses my neck, right where her daughter had been only hours before. "Next time, invite me along?"

"You got it." It's an empty promise, but it makes her happy. It keeps her unassuming.

We fall asleep together, but my dreams belong to someone else.

[causenessus]

cold kisses

part 0.1. SCARY GUARD DOG PRIVILEGES

PLAYING FROM KODZUKEN'S STREAM . . . what are you so afraid of by videoclub

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

tsukishima 🤝 kageyama not knowing what sin they committed in a past life that got them in their respective gcs

tsukki: "i am very calm, collected, and rational."

also tsukki: "allow me to pick a fight with the first person i see."

suna and y/n traded bad pictures of their friends to set as their pfps

y/n and kenma we're sitting on the sidelines during practice and we was cuddled up next to her just like he said watching her type up responses to the questions of his homework

they've also spent spent many nights cuddled on the couch watching his lectures so she's serious when she says she could probably be double majoring in it lol since she's doing all of kenma's work anyway

kenma's talked about it with y/n before bc kenma didn't want her to feel like he was using her or anything but she said it was actually pretty fun to do and if she has the time she doesn't mind doing it

not sure why we're already in therapy hours in the first chapter but at least everyone's a good friend

y/n and kenma have a cat named goldfish

they've also literally been avoiding any kind of "what are we" conversation since high school. they just slowly found that the other was okay chilling in the others' room which eventually evolved to laying on each other and lots of affectionate hugs

taglist: @rinheartshyunlix @kettlepop @eggyrocks @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @keioover @does-directions @calx-bdo @staygoldsquatchling02 @cherrypieyourface @iluv-ace @kitty-m30w @h3xi2g0n3 @mylahrins @thechaosoflonging @momoriii-i @localgaytrainwreck @a-pastel-edgelord @bugglesboop @polish-cereal (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (14/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Watching someone sleeping is something that friends do - right? And borrowing a sweater?

Warnings: this is sooooo soft, flirting, a bit angsty (but nothing serious) and a hint to the smutty scene in chapter 13

Word Count: 2.9k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: this is bad and short and I'm sorry. have been struggling mentally this week. love you all. feedback is appreciated.

The sun shines softly through the bedroom window, warming your face as you snuggle deeper into the covers. You're enveloped in Charles' scent - it's his bedding, after all - and you take a deep breath to feel just a little bit closer to him, even though he's only inches away from you. 

A few minutes after you get into bed, your friend has actually fallen asleep. He has one hand behind his head, while the other is on his bare chest, rising and falling with each breath he takes. His eyes are closed, his thick eyelashes almost touch his cheekbones, and his breathing is calm and deep and so soothing that you could fall asleep just listening to it. 

You turn on your side to get a better look at him, which I'm sure would be pretty strange if he woke up. But as relaxed as he lies there - mouth slightly open and brown strands falling lightly into his forehead - that won't be the case for the next few minutes. 

You can hardly forgive yourself for causing him such worry last night. You promised him that you would let him know as soon as you got home. And even though you weren't actually home, and thus theoretically didn't break your promise, you feel miserable about it. 

You can't imagine how worried he must have been when he walked in the door hours after your last conversation and you were nowhere to be found. For sure, he ran all around the apartment several times to make sure you were indeed not home before he called twelve times. And you slept through every single one of his calls. 

Charles moves next to you, scooting a little closer to the center of the bed and turning onto his side facing you. He has his head nestled on his bent elbow, while his other hand is against his stomach. You notice the many birthmarks speckled on his skin, and you would love to run your finger over them, feel how soft and warm he is. But you would never cross that line in your life without his consent. 

Never would you have expected to find someone like Charles. A man so good, so kind, so unique and compassionate that your heart blossoms and opens to him in his presence, even though after Raphael you swore you would never take another person into your heart so quickly. And yet Charles has broken down the wall you so masterfully and carefully built, clawed his way into your skin, and you pray - almost plead - that he would never disappear from your life again,

Charles breathes in and out deeply and his warm breath gently strokes your face. He looks so peaceful, so young and innocent that you melt as his mouth twists into a faint smile. After last night's worry-filled night, he deserves an undisturbed nap, so you sit up and slip out of bed without waking him.

He seems to notice your absence anyway, because he slides another bit across the soft bed, to be exact, to where you were lying just moments ago, and puts his head in the hollow of the pillow you left there. He takes a deep breath and seems to relax a bit more.

You tiptoe around the bed without taking your eyes off him, reaching for your comforter to carefully spread it over him. Instinctively, he grabs the hem and pulls it up to his chin before tangling his legs in the fabric and exhaling deeply as the warm rays of the sun fall on his face. Apparently, nothing and no one can disturb his sleep.

Quietly, you close the door to the room behind you - not, of course, without catching one last glimpse of your sleeping friend as he turns onto his stomach and now seems to have fallen fully into a deep sleep. His bare back shimmers golden in the sunlight, and as he slides his hand under his pillow, his muscles dance beneath his skin. 

In the living room, you grab your laptop and plop down on the couch. On the home page of your internet browser there are still a few job postings and, just like two days ago, none of them are suitable for you. You're starting to fear that you'll actually have to apply for the dog-sitter position in order to continue living in Monaco, so you take a quick look at the pictures of the cute dogs before frustratedly putting the laptop aside and pulling your knees up to your chest.

You've been aware that finding a decent job would be difficult, but it seems almost impossible. You had already considered just sending a few applications to magazines without them explicitly looking for new photographers, but you already knew the small companies that might hire you from your old job and their treatment of their own employees definitely left something to wish for.

The thought of starting your own business has also crossed your mind, but unfortunately you lack the experience and financial resources to do so. And this aspect is exactly the thing you need to sort out. 

To distract yourself from your hopeless situation, you turn on the TV and press the Netflix button on the remote control. You don't even need to browse through the many movie and series titles before you find something suitable. There's one series that you've already seen several times and still can't get bored of. 

Bridgerton.

Although the first season with Regé-Jean page and Phoebe Dynevor did a good preliminary work, you find the second one a lot better. Although the protagonists can't stand each other at the beginning, the chemistry between the two is incomparable and electrifying. There's a deep connection that's unparalleled in your own life, and while Anthony Bridgerton can't tear his gaze away from Kate, you can't help but think of Charles sitting next to you in the restaurant, laughing as he shares the tiramisu.

Whatever is between you two - it goes so much deeper than what you want to tell yourself.

If it weren't for your exes, you might have a different relationship. Not as friends who are forced to share an apartment because they have no other choice. But as two people who met somewhere and got along great from the beginning and whose friendship would have developed into something more at some point. They would have had the opportunity to get to know each other better under different circumstances. They would have had a real chance. 

But you are not. You are Y/N with the ex-boyfriend who knows no boundaries, and Charles, who apparently also has problems with his ex-girlfriend. And you have to share an apartment. Your friendship is forced because you have no choice. Because it's more comfortable than not getting along well when you live in such close quarters. 

What happens if you no longer share an apartment? Would you still remain friends? Watch movies and drink wine and cook together? Would you have late night conversations about how important this friendship is to you? Would Charles continue to try so hard to be a good friend because he wants to, not because he has to?

You become painfully aware that your friendship is a means to an end. And that thought breaks your heart. 

The bedroom door opens and a sleepy Charles pads barefoot across the threshold. His hair stands on end and his eyes flicker around the room as if searching for something specific. When you come into his field of vision, knees drawn to your chest, he exhales and rubs the heels of his hands over his eyes and then his chest. 

"Combien de temps ai-je dormi?" how long did I sleep? His voice is raspy and deep and so beautiful. 

You glance at your phone next to you, surprised that it's actually afternoon already. The paused series in front of you also shows you how much time has passed, because apparently you've watched a whole four episodes without really paying attention. 

"A little less than three hours," you reply to him as he plops down next to you on the couch. He scratches the back of his neck before stretching out his arms and resting them on the back of the couch. "How did you sleep?"

He shrugs, running a hand over his beard. "Not so good. Kind of restless, like my body needed the sleep but my brain didn't. Like it hasn't been able to rest, you know?" When you nod, he puts his head back. "I definitely slept better with you last night. How's that going to work out if we don't see each other for four days now?" Means to an end. He looks at you again. "Why did you even let me sleep?"

You tighten your lips into a thin line. "You were apparently up very early this morning and the night was exhausting and I thought you could use a little nap," you counter him. 

He tilts his head, then glances toward the TV. "I just thought we could spend some time together before I leave the day after tomorrow."

You turn a little in his direction. The fact that he wants to spend time with you before you don't see each other for four days makes your heart beat a little faster. But in the interest of your friendship, you ignore the fierce pounding in your chest. 

"There's still time," you say, "The evening is still young. And tomorrow we still have the whole day to do something, too. Those few hours don't really matter, do they?" You smile slightly at him. 

He clasps his hands behind his head. If he had a shirt on, the hem of the sleeves would stretch across his biceps. God, couldn't the man put some clothes on?

"What do you want to do?" He sits up straight. "We could watch a movie, like the second part of Cars." He raises his eyebrows with a grin, and you throw a pillow at him. "Okay, okay. It's okay. We could also cook something or -" Charles is interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. He holds up a finger and answers the call. "Allô?"

You hear someone on the other end of the phone say something, and Charles nearly jumps up from the sofa to sprint to the bedroom. He closes the door behind you, leaving you alone in the living room. 

Is it his ex calling him? Why is she doing this? Hasn't she tormented him enough with whatever happened between them? If she's going to ruin his mood again like she did last night, you'll drive by her place in person - wherever that may be - and give her a piece of your mind. 

When Charles re-enters the living room a few moments later - this time wearing a shirt, even - he doesn't sit down next to you on the couch again, but remains standing in the open doorway. He types something else on his cell phone before lowering his arm and looking at you dejectedly. 

Oh God, it was indeed his ex. 

"That was my boss," he begins, and for a brief moment you breathe a sigh of relief. So you don't have to hurl any profanities at anyone after all. "They moved the meeting up."

"To when?" Your voice is low, because from the way Charles is looking at you, you know for a fact that the schedule change isn't for a few hours. 

The brunette exhales audibly. "'Tomorrow at noon." He moves around the living room, restless, as if he doesn't quite know where to go with himself. Your eyes follow his every step. "So I have to leave from here tomorrow morning around 7. I don't have to pack a bag, I still have a few things on site. I just need to -" He stops in front of you and looks at you sadly. "So we don't have the whole day tomorrow. Just tonight."

You have to swallow. You still think it's right to put some distance between you after dreaming about him that night, and since your friendship of convenience somehow goes deeper than it should. But you didn't expect him to leave so soon. So rushed. Head over heels. 

Your gaze catches Charles' sad look. You're certainly not going to let him drive hours to Italy like that. And like you said, the evening is still young. And even if this friendship is just a means to an end, you'll do whatever you can to get as much out of the time as you can. Savor what little time you're given, down to the last bit. 

If Charles should disappear from your life at some point, at least he should leave behind fond memories. 

"Then we should make the most of it, don't you think?" You get up from the sofa and stand in front of him. You would love to put your hand to his cheek and stroke his skin with your thumbs to comfort him. But you don't. Friends don't do that. 

Charles eyes flicker briefly from yours to your mouth. "And what do you suggest?" His arm twitches as if he's about to move it, but changed his mind at the last moment. He tilts his head before taking a tiny - but noticeable to you - step back.

"You showed me one of your favorite places," you begin, pushing past him into the bedroom. In your closet, you rummage for warm clothes - a thick sweater, plus pants and fuzzy socks - and lay them on the rumpled bed. "I'll show you one of mine now." You turn to him and put your hands on your hips. "But only if you are brave enough, of course."

Charles has to grin. "Are you taking me to a secluded place to kill myself? Or are you really taking me to one of your favorite places?" He crosses his arms in front of his chest, grinning. 

Theatrically, you smack your hand on your chest, "So that's how little you think of me?" You shake your head in mock disappointment. "And I thought we were friends. I was wrong, for better or worse. Sorry. My mistake." You pretend to put the clothes back in the closet until something soft lands on your head. As you carefully pull the fabric off of you and examine it, you see that it's a sweater. You look to Charles. 

"You better put this on. It'll keep you a lot warmer than whatever that was just now." With a nod of his head, he points to the open closet. 

The sweater in your hand is black and has a hood that catches on your head as you slip the garment on. Immediately, you're enveloped in Charles' scent - like you were in your bed just a few hours ago - and the fabric is so warm and soft that you wish you could never put anything else on again. Is that what Charles hugs feel like?

You try not to read too much into the fact that he gave you his own sweater to put on. After all, it's still winter and certainly pretty cold outside. He's probably just worried that you might freeze to death.

"So what are you going to wear?" you ask him as you fix your hair. You feel his gaze on you, causing heat to shoot into your cheeks, but you try to ignore it. 

"Just a second," Charles says, disappearing for a moment before joining you back in the bedroom in a white sweater. "'Ta-dah. It's the same as the one you're wearing. I usually wear it when I'm skiing, but somehow it's so cold outside that any other sweater would be too thin." He pats his shoulder with a grin. "How lucky I am to have those." You toss him off with the pair of socks you just pulled out of the closet. He catches it casually. "Well, that wasn't nice. Is that how you treat your friends?"

You reach for another pair of socks and this time actually hit him in the head. "You think I'm going to take you to some secluded place to kill you!"

"I only said to you what you said to me two days ago," he counters, picking up the socks from the floor to throw them to you. Then he walks up to you and stands close in front of you. "You know very well how much I appreciate your company, Y/N. And you also know that I would go anywhere with you if you asked me to." He grabs one of the laces hanging out of the hood of your sweater and wraps it around his finger. Then he pulls you a little closer to him so that there are only a few inches between your faces. You feel his hot breath on your skin, and his closeness and smell make you dizzy. "So, mon amour." 

At the nickname, images of your dream flicker before your eyes. His lips on your burning skin, his fingers on your heat. I'm yours, mon amour. Forever. You can almost hear him say it. 

"What are you asking for?"

next part

[kithtaehyung]

seven days (m) (teaser) | jjk

POSTED HERE JULY 22ND, 2023!!  upcoming series: seven days (m)  pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader(f) genre/rating: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; roommates to lovers au  summary: you dump yet another guy that wasn’t up to your “ten day standards,” which leaves your cocky ass, very off-limits roommate to tease your single status yet again. but the teasing is always expected. what’s not expected, is the bet that you make without thinking. the bet that even though you give ten days, he wouldn’t even last seven. warnings: cursing, alcohol/vape mentions, parties, he wears glasses sometimes😔👍, chains bc it’s tradition atp lmaooo, cocky!jk, feelings🤕, big big big jk, flirty!jk, baddie!reader😌, multiple explicit scenes🫠, jk constantly in grey sweatpants and nothing else :))), full lists to be revealed each chapter! notes: …so this song called seven dropped and— notes 2: but really there was a fic that had been in the wips for a minute, and i just so happened to have a burst of energy to expand on it so here we are! making it a series to allow myself time to dedicate meaningful energy to each scene and not rush them💕 est. chapters: prologue | mon | tue | wed | thurs | fri | sat | sun | seven days est. running dates: july-september 2023 taglist: sign up here (i check every entry so read the rules!) teaser: below the cut if you want a taste 🩵

—

—

“Sure did,” Jungkook puffs before stepping away, taking all the tight space with him and letting you breathe again. “But all I’m saying is, you gotta lower your standards or—” 

“No.”

“Or,” he continues, giving you a look, “Not complain if they’re too high.” 

“Well, thank you.” With your nose grazing the sky, you point out, “I’d like to think they’re just right.” 

“What even are they anyway? All you’ve said is something about ten days.”

“That’s basically it,” you murmur, resting your arms on the island as to not have your chest in full view. “If I still like someone after ten days, I know I’d be fine dating them for real.” 

There’s silence when you finish. When you finally look, the gawk you’re getting in return almost makes you laugh. “What?”

“You mean those days are only a trial run?” 

You do break into laughter this time, burying your face in slight shyness. “And what about it!” 

“Are you serious—?” Jungkook rounds the island so that he can speak directly at your hidden features. “Has anyone even gotten past all ten with you?”

You pause, breath fanning the granite top beneath you and wisping around your face. When you lift your gaze above your arms, you keep it trained on the countertop instead of his curiosity, 

“No.” 

He doesn’t say a word. 

“Not since my standards changed.” 

And you think that’s the end of this conversation. Because what else is there to say? You know your expectations are impossible but you think this is a hell of a lot better than—

“I could do it.” 

“What.” A glare is shot. “Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?”

“You? No.” You shake your head. “You wouldn’t even last seven.” 

“Try me,” he challenges, and you still can’t take him seriously despite the fire in his eyes. “I’ve lasted a lot more than that as your roommate, right?” 

“But that’s—this is—this is different! Be for real, Kook.” You vacate the island and head to your room, having enough of his teasing for one morning. 

But you get stopped at the doorway, a bare chest and chains blocking your vision and sending your mind into a frenzy. When you flick your gaze to his face, he simply says, with the straightest expression,

“I am.”

--

--

--

tbc. :))

🦋 soooo how do we feel !! | wanna be tagged? 🩵

a/n: yeah idk what happened to me. one moment i was saying i wasn't gonna get bitten by the seven bug, and the next.. well. this happened lol. anyway! taglist is on a form so that i can easily keep track of who to tag. pls make sure to either tell me ur age in the survey or to have it on your blog bc i check all entries when tagging. prologue is already written and will be up soon! ++ ⇥ masterlist

[daceydeath]

I Want to Watch (part 7)

Pairing: Wooyoung x reader x Yeosang Word Count: 2.2K Genre: Pure Filth 🔞 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Explicit Activities

a/n: not as spicy as the last one but they cant all be that spicy x

Since sharing you with a few of the members Wooyoung discovers yet another thing that he likes with the help of another guest

“I’m sorry, did you want to repeat that?” Yeosang coughed violently as you wandered out of the bedroom into the kitchen, his phone discarded on the seat beside him.

“Hey Sangie, are you ok? Did you need some water?” you asked concerned as you watched him cough and turn tomato red, his eyes wide.

“I’m ok” he reassured you, dropping his voice to whisper sharply at your boyfriend. Shrugging you just continued into the kitchen turning on the kettle and getting out a cup for the hot chocolate you were going to make.

“I said are you interested in fucking my girlfriend? I mean if you don’t want to that is totally fine neither of us will be offended”. Wooyoung cackled as you rolled your eyes and kept your back to them both hoping to give Yeosang the impression that he had at least a little privacy while they had this conversation.

“She is right there you idiot” he hissed trying to keep his voice down “Why would you even ask me something like that?”.

“Oh well, it’s sort of a thing we are trying out. Like a kink we're exploring” Wooyoung started to explain, obviously unsure of how to get Yeosang to understand. You continued making your hot chocolate stirring the mixture noisily as possible to cover their voices.

“Eww, I didn’t need to know that!” Yeosang interrupted hastily.

“Shut up. Anyway she has already fucked San, Yunho and Jongho so it’s not like you are the first one I’ve asked also I’m not going to fuck you she is so don’t get all stroppy” Wooyoung continued.

“It is entirely up to you Sangie, I would never be offended if you aren’t interested or too weirded out by the whole thing” you smiled softly leaving the room to go back to Wooyoung’s room sipping the chocolate concoction happily.

“You’re both serious? Like this isn’t a weird friendship test or anything?” Yeosang cautiously asked his voice closer to normal at this point which made you breathe a sigh of relief, you were going to have to tell Wooyoung that he couldn't just ask his friends by dropping the old do you want to fuck my girl on them.

Returning to your book you continued to sip and read for another two chapters before there was a tentative knock on the open door. You looked up to see Yeosang standing there nervously with an excited looking Wooyoung behind him.

“Would it be ok if I kissed you to see if I want to go through with this?” he asked gently, stepping into the room but not coming any closer to you.

“I would like that if it would make it easier for you to decide” you nodded, getting off the bed to meet him in the middle of the room swaying your hips just enough to get his eyes to dart down your body. Placing your hands softly on his chest you waited to see if he was ok with you touching him. After a moment his hand moved to cup your cheek stroking your cheekbone with his thumb carefully, you couldn’t help but smile at how sweet he was being, looking up at him through your lashes you almost thought he was going to turn you down until he swiftly pressed his lips to yours causing you to gasp and tighten your grip on his clothes.

Delving his tongue between your lips he licked into your mouth sensually letting his tongue dance with yours before tightly gripping your hip and pulling you closer. The involuntary whine that left your throat made him groan deeply as you let him continue to take what he wanted from you if it would lead to him being able to make a decision. Breaking for air you couldn’t help feeling a little dazed at how intense Yeosang had kissed you when he seemed like such a sweet and soft boy.

“So what can’t I do again?” Yeosang asked, turning back to Wooyoung who was watching on with a shit eating grin.

“Anything she wants you to except eat her out only I get to decide if you can taste my pussy” Woyoung ground out his voice much deeper than before. A shiver running up your spine in anticipation of what Yeosang was going to do to you.

“I’d say it’s about to be my pussy” Yeosang snorted his hand sliding down to squeeze your arse before kissing you again roughly his teeth tugging your lower lip teasingly. Walking you backwards towards the bed the kiss only ended when your calves collided with the bed frame and you fell backward Yeosang catching you at the last moment to prevent you crashing into the mattress. Yelping in surprise he gave you a devilish grin pulling his shirt over his head before grabbing your pants and tugging both them and your underwear off before he climbed over you his hands slipping under your shirt to squeeze and tease your breast as his lips found yours again his tongue tangling with yours.

“Shit” Wooyoung breathed huskily. You could hear him moving closer to the bed but you couldn’t concentrate with the way Yeosang was kissing you your fingers tracing the beautiful planes of his chest.

“This needs to come off” Yeosang mumbled kneeling up so he could pull your shirt over your head immediately latching onto one of your nipples through the fabric of your bra, biting it carefully before suckling on it.

“Fuck Sangie” you gasped your hands clutching at his biceps to keep yourself grounded your hips rolling again him with abandon.

“Good girl let Sangie treat you like the good little slut you are” Wooyoung cooed, unzipping his own jeans and tugging at his cock. 

“Can’t taste you but a can get you wet” Yeosang smirked darkly moving so that he was kneeling back on his heels his tongue running over his teeth before he leant over your core a fat drop of saliva falling from his lips landing on your clit and making you jolt smearing his spit all over your folds he continued to stare another glob of saliva dripping from his lips onto your entrance he began pushing it inside you with two of his fingers stretching your walls roughly as he pumped them into you.

“Sanigie, holy shit” you gasped your body responding to him faster than your brain could catch up. 

“Wooyo, get her shirt and bra off. If you’re going to watch, at least be helpful” Yeosang grumbled his eyes piercing you to your spot on the bed as he continued to drag his fingers against your walls, his thumb now pressing against your clit pressing and circling your bundle of nerves your hips rolling against his fingers.

“I will kick you out Sang don’t test me” Wooyoung snapped even though he followed Yeosang’s request to get you completely nude for him.

“You won't, you want to watch me own her” Yeosang grinned pulling his fingers from you to show your boyfriend how your arousal almost dripped from the digits. “Open your mouth for me pretty girl” he raised his eyebrow at you challenging you to disobey him but you were more than happy to let him do whatever he liked with you holding your chin firmly he dropped a thick hot sting of spit onto your tongue making Wooyoung hiss from his spot on the bed. You swallowed with a flourish opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to show him that it was gone.

“Dirty little baby” Wooyoung whined, his voice already higher than usual you preened under their gaze.

“On your front pretty girl I want your boyfriend to watch me destroy your messy little cunt” Yeosang instructed you smoothly, his smokey voice making you groan in anticipation as you faced Wooyoung, his face already looking dazed while he pumped himself rhythmically. You heard Yeosang unzip his jeans before his hand harshly pressed your shoulders down leaving your arse in the air as he placed one hand on your hip to hold you in place. Without warning he sunk into you his cock stretching you more than his fingers had and punching the air from your lungs as he bottomed out. Pounding into you roughly his hips slapping against your skin loudly with each thrust, the power of them almost pushing you forward if not for the tight grip he had on your hips making you flop your head to the bed starting to feel dizzy from the feeling of his cock splitting you wide open.

“Fuck you're going to split her in half” Wooyoung complained halfheartedly his hand moving in time with Yeosang’s hips.

“Does she look broken?” Yeosang snickered, the only other sound in the room besides skin crashing together and Wooyoung’s heavy breathing was the constant string of moans and mewls falling from your lips.

“Ah… Ah… Sangie” you gasped in between the noises you couldn’t help but make you heard him grunt his fingers digging deeper into the plush flesh of your hips another glob of saliva landing on the tight ring of muscle that wasn’t being filled slowly once of his thumbs began circling it pressing against you until he could sink it inside you. 

“Doesn’t your boyfriend look like he’s enjoying himself?” Yeosang rasped his voice shaking with his exertion as he continued to relentlessly bury himself in your wet plush walls.

“Woo… Wooyoung” you whined lifting your head to meet his eyes, his hooded eyes dark and his lips pink and swollen from biting his lip as he watched you. You let your eyes drag down his body stopping at his rock hard leaking cock that made your mouth water. 

“Look at you baby looking so pretty” he slurred while Yeosang huffed out a short laugh letting his other hand fall around your waist to tease your clit mercilessly making you keen loudly, your eyes squeezing shut while your legs began to shake. “Open your eyes baby”.

“Do as your told pretty girl” Yeosang ordered his voice low as he waited until Wooyoung grunted again before his fingers returned to your puffy and abused clit each sharp movement of his fingers making it hard for you to focus on anything other than the way his cock felt dragging almost painfully against your walls as your arsehole tightened around his thumb.

“Oh my god Sangie… Fuck it’ too much” you keened pushing yourself back against him to force him deeper inside you. Your mouth fell open as his angle changed and he was now kissing your cervix with each thrust of his hips pulling his thumb from you he held you hip again bruisingly pulling you back to meet each snap of his hips.

"At least have her suck you off Wooyoung! Don't waste such a pretty little mouth" Yeosang grunted as you tightened further around him the smoldering in your belly beginning to spread.

“Shit baby, shit, shit, shit” Wooyoung wailed his hand furiously pumping his length, the precum on the head of his cock glistening in the light as he fucked his hand faster only moving to shove himself down your throat when you opened your mouth and let your tongue fall out over your bottom lip. You could taste the salty musky tang of his nearing release as he harshly fucked as deep as he could into your throat you jaw relaxing instinctively to fit him.

“You take me so well pretty girl, fuck I could get you pregnant like this” Yeosang moaned his voice deep and smokey “would you like that? Like me to fuck a baby into this tight little cunt”.

“Yes…Yes Yeosang… Please. Please ” you sobbed desperately letting your boyfriend's cock fall from your mouth, coming undone around him, the muscles in your legs shaking violently as your walls fluttered and pulsed with almost painfully intense pleasure. Yeosang kept his pace to prolong your orgasm, your eyes rolling as your entire body felt like you were crackling with electricity. You felt him stiffen slightly before his hot seed flooded you, his hands holding your hips flush to him as he groaned loudly, rolling his hips with less urgency as you milked him dry. Wooyoung followed only a moment later thick ropes of his cum dripping down your throat and flooding your mouth as he continued to slide himself along your tongue.

“Fuck” Wooyoung mumbled carefully pulling himself from your swollen lips and wiping the few droplets that escaped the corner of your mouth “I think I just discovered I have a breeding kink”.

“Of course you have Woo” you swallowed panting, feeling the cool air hit your tender and sticky folds as Yeosang pulled away from you and reached for the tissues beside Wooyoung’s bed. 

“To be honest I assumed he already had that one” Yeosang scrunched up his nose, helping you to lay on your back and also clean you up being careful to be gentle with you.

“I’d be more surprised if he found a kink he didn’t like” you shrugged, making room for Yeosang to lay down to recover and bask in his post nut glow for a moment.

“Actually fair” he agreed, both of you looking towards your still spaced out boyfriend “Is he alright?”.

“Um, probably? If he doesn’t move in the next fifteen minutes we will worry” you sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.  

“Have to admit I didn’t expect this was going to be happening today. But you are incredible” Yeosang yawned softly.

“You aren’t so bad yourself Sangie” you mumbled shyly pulling the sheets over the both of you so that you could keep warm until you got the energy to get up and shower. Wooyoung finally moved handing you a bottle of water that sat beside the bed Yeosang helping you to sit up and sip slowly.

a/n: Thank you for reading lovelies I adore you all and I am so grateful for your likes, reblogs, comments and support you are amazing xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar

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@skersey33 @jintastic-day @hwxbibi @onmykneesforateez @skittyneos @thjksnsh

[arcanefox207]

The Wolf You Feed (Part 3)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 6.2k

Part 3 / ? (Ongoing Series) (AO3) (Previous Chapters)

Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.

Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50ish). Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. POV Switching. Series contains Angst and lots of Smut (to avoid chapter specific spoilers you can expect things such as but not limited to Unprotected PiV, Cream Pies, Oral, Masturbation, Dom!Joel, Subby reader, Pining, Infidelity, Edging) 

A/N: Chapter 3 starts off VERY Angst heavy! The majority after that is full on smut with some plot development. I'd love to hear feedback on what you think of this chapter. It took me longer to write because I really wanted to nail the angst part so I challenged myself to really make that part hit some feels.

A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S

Comments / Reblogs are so incredibly appreciated 🧡

[Joel POV]

Joel sits waiting with a scowl as Tess passes him and joins him across the booth. After a day or two they finally made plans to get together briefly at lunch to talk. 

His scowl softens when he looks at her. His untouched cup of coffee sits between them like a mediator. She leaves her jacket on with no intention of being there long. 

He comes out and says it. Calmly and softly. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” His gaze faces downward and avoids her face.

“Do what?” Tess askes, acting puzzled by their conversation.

Joel gestures his finger pointing between the two of them. His face is solemn as his eyes reluctantly lock with hers. 

“You gotta be kidding me.” Tess scoffs. She searches his eyes for more information but his stare is cold and serious. 

“Whats got you so noble all of a sudden?” She teases, still not really believing him. He can see her working it out in her head.

Joel wants to tell her all about you, but he knows he can’t. 

“Do what you want. I’m not your wife.” 

Joel wants to believe that, but he knows her too well. He hasn’t had success with anyone else in a long time because he hasn’t really tried. Nothing serious, anyways. She knows he is loyal to her at the end of the day. Always has been and always will be. The permission to do whatever with whomever is just an illusion. It never had been challenged before and was just empty words. 

Tess has always had a way to keep Joel on her leash. They were too comfortable with how things were. Their history was long and tumultuous but it was familiar. She had been there for him at his darkest times and he felt an obligation to her. One he had been content with fulfilling. The allure of familiarity was strong, but it was waning and Tess was too preoccupied to stop it.   

“Tess, this thing we have isn’t working.” He pauses. “It hasn’t been working.” His words have more bite than he intended as they leave his mouth. 

“This thing?” Her eyes narrow as she accentuates the word. “Joel, tell me what is really going on.”

The guilt was starting to get to him. It wasn’t fair to Tess and it wasn’t fair to you. It shouldn’t even be an issue, really. Joel’s conflict just further confirmed how entwined he was with Tess and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. 

It was no secret that Tess and Joel were a thing. They were both well respected and liked in town but also had a reputation for being intense if you crossed them. Everyone knew that Joel would break their jaw if they put their hands on Tess for any reason or gave her any trouble. He was her protector and her lover. Whichever one she needed. It was common knowledge that they were in a situationship. There was no romance, but they had an unspoken claim on each other. 

“Whatever this is you are going through is fucking weird.” She waves her hand in front of her, mimicking his ambiguity. Her voice is a little more shaky than before, but still holding back any real emotion. 

He looks down at his coffee. He can feel her gaze boring into him, searching for the source of this conversation. The shame is permeating from him like a stink he can’t wash off and she can smell it.

“So you’ve been fucking around with someone else?” She asks bluntly. Piecing it all together. 

“I didn’t exactly go looking for it.” He says, coldly. Annoyed by her accusation that was by all counts correct. 

“Jesus, Joel.” Her tone is filled with disgust more than anything.

“Don’t, Tess.” His words bite. “You’re never around. Don’t act like we are anything more than that.” 

“Only when you want to get your dick wet.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Fuck you.”

Joel sits, silent. Biting his tongue and trying to keep his cool. He doesn’t want to admit it, but she is right. The one constant in his life the past few years has been Tess. They never were successful in making the leap to something legitimate. They were both too headstrong and too stubborn. 

Oil and water. 

Despite that, they had amazing sexual chemistry, when they made time for each other. Joel had stupidly suggested it might be practical if they moved in together, but she shot that down. Joel wanted some semblance of a relationship and her resistance to that started driving a wedge between them. Things only got more toxic and strained between them after that. Their interactions had been slowly reduced to just the occasional fuck after drinking at the bar and a whole lot of arguing. 

Then you came along. The catalyst that made him question why he was just staying complacent with Tess and how sustainable that really was going to be. You did it all without realizing it.

 “I don’t have time to play games, Joel.” 

“Tess…” He stares at her. “I ain’t playing.” The words come out firmly through gritted teeth and his balled up fist slams on the table making the contents on the surface rattle.  

As much as Tess could be intimidating, it was nothing compared to a worked up Joel Miller. She scoots out from the booth and stands up in a huff, clearly over this conversation. 

“When you’re done having your fun, don’t come looking for me.” 

Her prickly demeanor tears away at his resolve. He doesn’t want to lose Tess, but he doesn’t know how to quit her either. She knows it, too. Dangling her threat in front of him to keep him on the hook. Daring him to eat his words.

Joel feels stricken with panic. His temper cools and is replaced with regret. All he had done was piss her off and work himself up. He was finally saying the words out loud that they both had been avoiding for too long, but he was too afraid to commit and make things final. 

He reaches his arm out like a reflex and grabs her arm as she passes. Their eyes lock in a standoff. Tess has a fire in her eyes but behind that he can see the hurt lurking. He relaxes his grip now that he has her attention and looks away, ashamed. His hand drags down her arm slowly. Tender and apologetic. 

“Will I see you Friday night?” 

Coward. He hates himself as soon as those words leave his mouth. Why couldn’t he just let her walk away?  

“Yeah. Sure.” She conceals the slightest smirk from his sight as she pulls her arm free and keeps walking toward the door. 

Later that night after Joel returns home he has nothing left to distract him. He had worked as late as he could. He had a liquid dinner of whiskey. 

After he showered he got into some sweatpants and a simple cotton tshirt and scrolled mindlessly through the channels. He settled on a mediocre action movie that was halfway over and just let it fill the background noise. 

His mind is on overdrive rehashing the conversation with Tess over and over. Regretting not just letting her go. It was easier to imagine doing that when it wasn’t the heat of the moment. He was so close but he knew she wouldn’t make it easy for him. He knew better than to let himself get wound up too and put her on the defensive. He never wanted to hurt Tess even if he was fed up with her.   

He had no intention of continuing his charades with her and didn’t want to lead her on, but he couldn’t let it end like that. They had too much history. She had been too important to Joel since they met in Boston. He didn’t want to lose what they had, but it was becoming more and more clear that it had been gone for a long time. He still had to try. 

He hated feeling so ambivalent. 

“Damn it, Tess.” He says out loud to himself as he leans forward over his knees with his hands clasped between them. He slams his whiskey glass down on the table in front of him.     

His body is too tense and agitated. He stands up and paces past the front window. His eyes catch the light of your home and he feels a different kind of heat take over. His frustration was looking for any way to escape. He could already feel himself getting hard thinking about fucking you again. A combination of desire for you and aggravation that his situationship with Tess was going to stifle this new flame.  

He braces against the wall and palms himself over his pants with deep, labored strokes. He reaches his hand inside and continues. His cock is begging for your touch. 

Your touch. 

It all seemed so clear to him at this moment. You were exactly what he needed. What he wanted. In the short time he had come to know you one thing was certain. Being around you made him feel good. 

He withdraws his hand with a pained restraint and instead picks up his phone.       

Joel needs to see you. He sends you a text. 

[Reader POV]

Joel: Come over?

No preamble. No context. You read the message and then read it again. 

You: Sure

There is nothing you’d like more. You want to tell him that, but you keep it short and sweet.

It was already getting late but you didn’t want to question it too much. It’s not like you were doing anything important anyways. You had already made a deal with yourself to let things cool off a little so that you didn’t come off desperate with how badly he made you want him. 

This unexpected late night invitation was very much welcomed. Whatever reason Joel had to invite you over, you were ready to find out.   

You throw on a pair of jeans, grab your jacket and head over on foot. The cool air is soothing. It helps calm you down as you can feel your heart racing the closer you get. His home was becoming more and more familiar to you. It was hard not to pass it everyday and want to be back inside and wonder what he was up to. Joel was becoming more and more familiar. You had never felt so enamored with a guy before. Much less someone like Joel and especially not someone old enough to be your dad. You knew so little about him, too. Something you plan to remedy when you are not being dickmatized. 

He answers the door as you approach it and you step in, scuffing your boots to kick off the snow. You notice how dimly lit the place is with only the light from his TV and the wood stove burning low. A single light in the kitchen above the sink where you first got to experience his touch. 

You turn to face him as he closes the door. He looks on edge.

He takes a step towards you and grabs your chin, directing you to look up at him. His eyes are dark and his energy is agitated. Hungry. Lustful. Something is off but you can’t quite place it. You infer that his silence means he didn’t invite you over to chat so you don’t pry. Shoot first and ask questions later was becoming the status quo. 

He brushes his thumb across your lip and parts your mouth open slightly. It makes you melt inside as you confirm this invitation was for all the reasons you had hoped. You give him a sultry smirk and tease the tip of his thumb with your tongue.

No words are spoken as he closes the gap and shoves his tongue in your mouth. He presses into you and turns you to swap positions so he can pin you against the door. You can feel the heat of his cock against you as he devours you with his mouth and grinds into you. You can smell the lingering whiskey on his breath while you make out.

His hands pull your jacket off your shoulders and it falls to the ground. You kick your boots off and let them join the mess of clothing starting to gather at your feet. He pulls your shirt over your head and struggles to undo your bra while his body rocks into you; crowding you in. He is careful not to lose contact with you for long. His mouth roams to your neck and collarbone as you reach your hands down to unbutton your jeans. The cruel barrier between you does little to conceal his hardening cock, poking into you as you struggle to unzip and free yourself from your jeans. 

Your bare back against the door is cold and sends goosebumps through your skin. His hand brushes over your hardening nipple and it sends him in a frenzy that stops you in your tracks as he becomes preoccupied with your hardening buds. 

He hooks his hands under your thighs to hoist you up higher for easier access. You straddle him to help hold yourself up. He maneuvers you so effortlessly. His biceps bulge tightly through the arms of his tshirt as he uses his strength to pin you firmly between him and the door while he ravages your tits. 

Your hands grip into his shoulders and he leans in to take your nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls and teases as you become harder and more sensitive. 

He is rough and needy. A moan escapes your lips as he sucks hard and flicks you with his tongue before switching over to the other side and does it all over again. He is getting increasingly forceful. 

It’s almost too rough and borders hurting but his unhinged desire to take what he wants in the moment makes you feel euphoric. You want to be at his mercy.

A bite catches you off guard and you and you gasp as he nips at you again with more restraint. He pulls back to control himself, panting and realizing he might be getting too intense. 

He lowers you gently back to your feet and holds your hips firmly. He leans into your ear and his words come out deep and commanding. 

“Bedroom.”

He leads you hastily through the living room to a room you had not been in before. It smells masculine and clean with a woodsy veil lingering from the wood stove. He has dark blue bedding and decor against beautiful rustic, knotty pine walls. It feels comfortable and distinctly Joel. A rush of excitement surges through you. Being in his bedroom. Standing at the foot of his bed.  

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you and mouths your jawline and collar. It doesn’t take long before he is getting carried away again leaving playful bites on your tender skin. You relish it and welcome being branded by him. You’ve never been with someone so rough and dominant and you find yourself craving this side of Joel. Your body aches for his touch.       

One of his hands is forcefully grabbing your breast and the other he slides down your belly and dips inside your panties. You are embarrassingly aroused already and he feels how wet you are as he grazes over your underwear. He curls two of his fingers under the damp fabric and lets out a low growl as he presses them over your swollen clit and gets them wet at your entrance. His fingers are so thick. He gently works his two fingers in and out of you over and over again while his thumb teases your clit. While he is stretching you out he bites at the crook of your neck and earlobe. His cock poking into you and begging for friction as he grinds it into you.

You can feel him everywhere on your body. All your senses are flooded by his presence. His scent. His heat. His touch.  

He slides his hand up and hooks his fingers on your waistband and tugs them down. You help shimmy out of them and bend over to let them drop to the floor. With one more layer removed you press back into him as you rise back up and feel his hard cock against your ass. You seize the opportunity to tease him back by rubbing up against him. You can feel his cock swelling against you and you let out a needy moan to further tempt him while you slowly rise back up. You want him inside you so badly and you can feel how badly he wants it too.

“Easy,” he says sternly as his hands find a grip on your hips while you push back into him again. You hear a raspy moan catch in his throat. 

“Don’t.” He threatens while he grips you harder and keeps you still. That dangerous side shows itself and it makes you equally turned on as you are intimidated. You listen. 

He removes his other hand from your breast and slides it up around the front of your neck and gently around your throat. He tilts your head back and cups your jawline as he presses a needy kiss into you and turns you around to face him.   

Joel pushes you down gently onto your back. His bed is messy and unkempt and smells like him. He stands at the foot of the bed and pulls his shirt off. His shoulder frame is so wide and his tapered waist teases you with his happy trail spilling out from his pants that are straining to hold him in. He leaves them and seems to ignore his own arousal for a moment to turn his entire focus on you. He drinks in your naked body laid bare before him and bites his lip back with a crooked smile. He has already made a mess of you and he can see how needy you are for him. Keeping his cock hidden seems cruel but you aren’t even sure if you could handle much more of his body at this moment. 

He crawls onto the bed on all fours and situates himself in between your legs. The mattress sinks slightly under his weight as he settles between your legs with his arms holding him up on each side of you. His scruff scrapes the soft skin of your inner thigh as he lowers his head down and it sends a shiver through you. He presses his mouth to the crease at the top of your leg and places a gentle kiss as he moves in closer to your center. 

His movements are slow and deliberate and he is teasing you with anticipation. His eyes lock onto yours. They are blown out and mad with desire. Dangerously hungry.  

“Need to taste you.” He groans and snakes his hands under and around your legs and drags you closer to him, never breaking eye contact. His hands splay over your lower belly and he dives in. Your head tilts back as you stare up at the ceiling and breathe sharply. Your body is floating in pure ecstasy.  

His focus is now entirely on eating you out. He flattens his tongue and licks you up to your clit again and again. You are getting wetter and wetter. He goes at a painfully slow pace and savors your taste. The sensation is intoxicating. He works his tongue with such precision. 

Moans escape your lips and your body writhes under his expert tongue. Your back arches up as he dips further into you. His nose teases your clit while he stretches his tongue inside you. His damp beard scrapes against you as he moves his head, tantalizing your skin.  

Your hands scramble to grab his tousled hair between your legs and you latch onto him and look down to steal a glance while he works. He is so handsome and skilled it doesn’t feel real. You can’t shake the feeling that you are waiting for the other shoe to drop, but at this moment you don’t even care. 

His broadness let him take up so much space and spread you so wide open for him. His shoulders crest as he maneuvers himself deeper and you can see his beading sweat. He is so focused on making you feel good. Making you feel desired while he is genuinely enjoying every moment of it. 

You lay your head back again and your vision starts to fade out as the sensation becomes overpowering. His tongue is relentless, exploring your folds and discovering all the right spots that drive you wild. Your hands tangle in his silver streaked hair and you are certain it has to be hurting him with how hard you are pulling. He does not seem to be fazed in the slightest and only responds with more vigor the harder you pull.   

“Joel. I’m gonna..” 

He interrupts you by sharply pushing you down against the mattress so you can’t squirm anymore. 

“Not yet.” He commands, his eyes staying focused on your cunt while he speaks. “I’m not done with you.” 

He doubles down on his movements to further push your limits. His whole face is buried in you. Pleasuring your most tender parts with a passionate hunger. Savoring your sweetness. 

You writhe under him. His words invigorate you as you grasp onto anything that might help you hold on. His hair. The bed sheets. The comforter balled up around you. He doesn’t seem to mind that your legs are nearly strangling him. You doubt he can even feel it. He is so much bigger and stronger than you.  

He sends you over the edge when he takes your swollen clit between his lips and sucks hard while he swirls it with his tongue. 

You moan as your orgasm washes over you and he goes into a frenzy lapping at you, moaning as he takes all of you in. You have never come so hard before and he is drinking every bit of you. Reaping the benefits of his handiwork.   

You are both panting to catch your breath and enjoy a calm moment as you come down from your high. You look down at him still placed between your legs. He groans as he stiffly adjusts his arms to prop himself up. One of the few moments that reminds you he is damn near 50 years old, and you are surprised to find it so endearing.  

“Holy Fuck, Joel.” you say almost giddy and rest your arm across your forehead and breathe deep. No one has ever pleasured you like Joel Miller and you are pretty sure he knows it. 

His face is shiny and wet from your release and his beard is covered in your slick. He looks feral and depraved as he drags the back of his hand across his face to wipe off your mess but it only smears it more. He licks his bottom lip, and seems pleased to wear your mess like a badge of honor. He was being such a nasty man, but you liked him nasty.

He backs up off the bed and reluctantly stands up. His cock is begging to be touched and let free. He catches the needy way you look at.

“Not yet, baby.” He slides his hand under his waistband and you can see him stroke his length and groan slightly as he slides his pants down. He jerks on it a few more times and you can see it leaking at the tip. It's fat and ready to burst. You can feel your body pulsing, begging to have him inside you. 

“I want more of that pussy first.”

He slips out of his pants completely and then returns to his place on the bed, between your legs. He forces them open with his head. It’s playful but also devious. You didn’t realize how tightly you were holding your legs together until he charged in. 

“Joel!” You whine. 

He ignores you and places a rogue kiss on your abdomen and then resumes fucking you with his tongue. He uses his thumbs to spread your folds open so he can get in deep. You whimper as the pressure on you and inside you builds. You are wet again in no time and he relishes every molecule that coats his tongue.  

He leans into you and pushes your legs back into your chest and laps at you with this new leverage. You can hear him moaning in delight.

“Joel…” You say his name again, louder, trying to get his attention. You are overstimulated and he doesn’t stop. Not that you actually want him to stop, but you do want him to know you are coming undone.

The second wave of pleasure starts to build. You are swollen and begging for his touch. Begging for him to fill you. As good as his tongue feels, you need to feel more of him. Making you beg for his cock turns him on too. He relishes your needy pleas and edges you even more. 

He gets you good and wet and reluctantly pulls away from you and sits up. One hand presses your leg open while the other hand zeroes in on your opening. He dips a finger in and immediately adds another as he fucks you with his thick fingers, twisting them inside you. He wastes no time. Much rougher than earlier. He does it just long enough to get them dripping and feel you clench around him. You let out a whimper as he scissors his fingers and then cruelly pulls out of you, leaving you empty.  

He wasn’t being so nice anymore. His movements were more urgent and practical. He had neglected his swollen cock for long enough.  

His wet hand glides over his shaft while he stares at you.  

“You’re being so good.” he praises. His veiny cock glistening in your slick.

“Gonna fuck you now, Sweetheart.”

He kneels on the bed and leans forward to pull you up. Your legs dangle loosely as he pulls you to your knees and spreads your legs to straddle him in his lap. His weighty cock is between your bodies. He notches it at your entrance and grabs it firmly at the base and pumps it before he guides the head into you. 

Even though you are soaked and he just fingered you it is still a stretch your body isn’t quite ready for. His slicked up, swollen head splits you open and you feel a searing burn as your walls strain to fit him.  

He lets out a grunt as he pushes it in further and locks his hands on your hips. You gasp as he pulls you all the way down to his base and holds you there for a moment. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your head to his chest while your mouth gapes open and you moan. You were not expecting him to fill you with his full length so quickly. He was a lot to take.  

He leans back away from you just far enough to catch your eyes and check in on you. You feel his cock twitch inside you while he is admiring how fucked out you look. 

Your bodies come together again and he grabs you hard. He thrusts up into you and pulls you down on his cock hard as he fucks you. His arms tangle around you as his pace quickens. Your nails claw into his back as you try to desperately grab onto something.

He snarls and nips at your collar as he fucks you relentlessly. He starts to come undone. His undulating thrusts turn chaotic. You can feel his cock swelling inside you, ready to unload. 

You want him to fill you to the brim with his come but you don’t have the capacity to form coherent words. You try anyway holding yourself even tighter against him and moaning. Pleading with your touch. You hadn’t found the appropriate moment to tell him oh, by the way I have an IUD and doing it while being fucked senseless was incredibly difficult.

Your muscles are going weaker by the second but he picks up on your attempts. Joel was incredibly tuned into you. As if he needed another reason to be so attractive.  

“Where, baby?” He slows his pace but just slightly. He urges you to reply by placing one of his hands on the side of your face and holding you up to look at him. You can tell from his tone that he is on the brink. 

“In… inside.” You manage to get it out. You catch the way the corner of his mouth pulls up slightly while his eyes narrow over his nose. It was exactly what he was hoping to hear. He thumbs over your jawline and then brings his hand back down to your hips. 

Joel grunts loud as he thrusts into you while he pulls you down on him. Rough and violent in his movements. His cock kisses your deepest parts and you scream out his name and claw into him. His moan sends you over the edge and your muscles convulse as your release escapes you.

He can feel your walls choking his cock while you come. It sets his own climax in motion and he loses control, bucking into you frantically while he snarls. You can feel his hot ropes of come fill you as his cock pulses. He thrusts up into you with a labored exhale as he empties himself inside you. 

Having him fill you with his spend feels so cathartic. For both of you, you imagine, judging by his calmer demeanor. You share a peaceful moment together entangled and panting. Hot and sticky sweat beading between your bodies. The smell of sex and burning wood.  

He presses his forehead into yours and leads you down gently back onto the mattress. His come leaks out of you as he pulls out with a groan. He was already taking up any available space before he poured into you. You mourn its loss as it drips out of your cunt.  

He presses a kiss to your forehead and drops to his side, next to you. His arm drapes over your midsection and he turns you on your side. He pulls you close so your back is flush against the front of his body. His wet and softening cock nestles at the curve of your ass. 

You can feel his heartbeat with heavy thuds starting to slow. He traces his hand along your side and gently rubs your skin. It makes you shiver. Your sides are sore from being held so tightly but his touch now is soft and gentle. Soothing. 

Joel was intense in bed, but it never made you feel like you were in any sort of danger. He was certainly capable of harming you but you trusted him. He pushed your limits in all the right ways. On the outside he was rough and dominant, but you were starting to see that deep inside he knew how to be gentle too. He had another side of him that he was content to share with you in these moments. 

He made you feel safe. Like he would protect you from anything.

“Joel?” You call for his attention, almost sheepish.

“Mmm?” He mumbles, raspy. From the sounds of it he was nearly passed out.

You roll onto your other side so you are facing him now. His hand snakes over your ass and he rubs you.

“You fuck good for an old man.” 

He bites inside his cheek to hold back a smile and shakes his head. 

“Watch it.” He threatens, but in a joking tone. He pulls your head into his chest and scoffs. You liked teasing him about his age.

You smile to yourself and bury your face in his chest as he holds you tighter. 

You wake up to the sound of heavy boots clunking on the wood floor. You slowly blink your eyes open and then jolt up when you realize you are not at home. You look to your right and the spot on the bed is empty with blankets haphazardly tossed aside. You are in an unfamiliar bed, naked and your body is sore. 

Your brain slowly wakes up as you remember Joel inviting you over late last night. You didn’t mean to fall asleep in his bed. He had fucked you silly and it is not at all surprising that you slept like a baby. He wore out your body and the last thing you remember was being held by him and listening to his rhythmic breath as you dozed off together.  

Your eyes searched the room for your clothes but half of them were still out by the front door. 

You see his olive green and orange plaid flannel draped over his dresser. You snatch it and put it on. It floats on you but feels so soft and comforting. The arms are so much longer and it hangs over you frumpy. It smells worn but you like being in his stink. You button just a few to hold it on you. It barely covers your ass but it does a good enough job. 

You push the bedroom door open and wince as you see the sun is just peaking through the treeline. A stark contrast to the room you woke up in. The reflection on the ice covered lake is bright and blinding. After your eyes adjust you can really take in what a beautiful morning it is. 

“Morning.” Joel greets you. He is standing over in the kitchen holding a coffee carafe and pouring it into his thermos. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

He looked so handsome. Fresh with his hair wet and slicked back. He cleaned up well and looked like an entirely different man from the night before. More put together anyways. More peaceful too. It reminded you of the first morning you met him. 

He was dressed for work and had on a few layers from head to toe. It made you feel foolish to still be so exposed. He did not seem to mind one bit.

He looks you up and down and he bites his lip while he tilts his head slightly and stares. 

“Mmm. Like you in my shirt.” He almost growls it at you.

You smile shyly and stand across from him at the island.

“I like it too. I might have to keep it.” You tease.  

You notice a coffee mug already prepared next to him.  His big hand claws it on the top and he slides it over towards you.

“Figured you’d want this.” 

“I sure do.” You pick up the mug with both hands and breathe in the sweet aroma. He had apparently paid attention enough to know that you like your coffee with cream and sugar. Another bonus point for attentiveness.     

“I got an early job today and I have to go. Stay as long as you need.” His offer was generous.

He twists the lid onto his thermos and grabs a bag with some tools and blueprints. He slings it over his shoulder and walks around the other side to stand next to you. 

He reaches his free hand out and gently pushes your messy hair behind your ear. He slowly drags his hand to your jaw and tenderly caresses you with his thumb. 

“See you later, sweetheart.” You melt inside. 

And then he was gone. 

You collect your things and quickly dress yourself properly. Your daily work alarm goes off on your phone while you are lacing up your boots. Just enough time to go home and shower and get ready for work. 

As you are about to head out a devious thought compels you to snatch the flannel. He won’t even miss it. He has plenty. 

As you close the door behind you you take a deep breath. The sun is warm on your face and the air is crisp and refreshing. Your senses are invigorated and your energy is bright and vibrant. The realization hits you as you start across the street. 

You are falling hard for Joel Miller. 

Part 4!

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[slayfics]

Unknown Pleasures Ch. 3

You’ve had a crush on Katsuki Bakugo since joining UA, but will another student change your mind?

1.3k words

Chapter links

The following day after your argument, Katsuki was sitting in the common room of the dorms, eating breakfast before classes. He saw you make your way down from the dorms and walk into the kitchen to grab some food.

Once you had grabbed your food you quickly scanned the room and made your way over to take a seat next to Hitoshi. Katsuki blinked, expecting the sight to disappear. Sure, you two had argued last night, but that wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Usually, these fights were forgotten the next day and you'd go back to prancing by Katsuki's side.

Katsuki heard your stunt last night, the way you raised your voice so he could clearly hear you talking to Hitoshi. He knew it was a stunt to try and make him jealous. Why were you still keeping this act up though, he wondered. It's not like he could believe you actually cared for that purple haired freak. The dude looked like a zombie, and he was far behind the rest of your class with hero work. There was nothing admirable about him at all.

Yet, there you sat having breakfast with him. Smiling about something. Katsuki grunted, and decided you'd get over your tantrum eventually and realize your act wasn't working. Katsuki almost felt bad for Hitoshi, who plainly had a crush on you. Didn't you realize it was cruel for you to use him that way?

Katsuki watched as you and Hitoshi finished up eating and made your way out of the dorms together. A sinking feeling hit his stomach when you didn't turn to glance at him even once. Didn't you want to see if your ruse was working? Wouldn't you want to check if Katsuki looked upset by you giving your attention to someone else?

"Hey man you alright?" Eijiro asked, snapping Katsuki out of his thoughts.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, "What the fuck was that about?" he asked, head bobbing in the direction of you and Hitoshi leaving the building.

"Oh, those two? I don't know but they were up late last night hanging out," Eijiro answered.

"Are you serious?" Katsuki snapped. He had heard your comment complimenting Hitoshi's room, but he hadn't heard you stayed to talk to him for any longer than that.

"Yeah, I was going downstairs to get some water when I saw her leave Shinso's room. I know you guys had a fight last night, everything ok?" Eijiro questioned.

"Everything is fine," he grunted.

Eijiro hummed unconvinced, "Ok if you say so, but if you're worried maybe you should talk to her. Apologize," he suggested.

"HAH? For what!?" Katsuki exclaimed.

"I don't know- whatever you two fought about. I’m just saying don’t you want to be on good terms with the person you like?” Eijiro asked.

“I didn’t say I like her!” Katsuki yelled.

“Oh... so you don’t like her?” Eijiro questioned, tilting his head confused. He knew Katsuki well by now and it was obvious to him Katsuki had some type of feelings for you.

“I didn’t say that either!” Katsuki barked, becoming even more frustrated.

“Relax man, but you should probably figure that out though… from what I heard she seemed to be getting along really well with Shinso…” Eijiro stated.

“Tch- whatever,” Katsuki mumbled, then quickly grabbed his bag to head off to class.

The rest of the day didn't go any better. Once he walked into class, he saw you sitting on Hitoshi's desk, idly playing with his lavender locks while you two chatted. Give it up already, Katsuki grunted to himself. Paying no attention to you or Hitoshi, Katsuki took his seat near the front of the class. The problem was, you didn't pay any mind to Katsuki either. Continuing your conversation with Hitoshi without a second thought to Katsuki entering the room.

Katsuki found himself letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when Aizawa walked in causing you and Hitoshi to finally separate.

What the hell could eye bags even be talking to you about that was so interesting anyway. The useless shit he learned in general studies?

Throughout Aizawa's lecture, Katsuki found his thoughts wandering off.

Did you not care at all about your fight with him? Why hadn’t you said anything to him all day? Are you actually interested in Hitoshi?

Katsuki expected that by lunch time things would have gone back to normal. However, he couldn’t have been more wrong. When Aizawa dismissed the class for lunch, you bounced right over to Hitoshi. A wide grin adorned your face as you two walked to the cafeteria.

What the fuck?

Katsuki's grip on his bag tightened, and his knuckles whitened. Couldn’t you stop playing around and drop the act already?

Completely focused on watching you and Hitoshi disappear into the crowd, he didn’t hear the perky redhead sneak up behind him.

“You look pretty upset man,” Eijiro observed.

“I’M FINE!” Katsuki yelled, alerting some passing students to jump.

But he wasn’t fine. The pit in his stomach only grew as he watched you scoot closer to Hitoshi at lunch. The two of you laughed at something you showed him on your phone.

The way Hitoshi leaned into you to get a better view of your screen made Katsuki want to scream. Did you intend to keep this up until Katsuki gave in and said something? Or worse… was this real? Were you actually enjoying Hitoshi’s company?

As more time passed, Katsuki found it harder and harder to deny that this act was just a show. His ego argued with him that you couldn't actually be interested in another boy. Yet, there you sat laughing and smiling with someone else.

Then it all came to a head during the afternoon training session.

The training was simple sparing matches. A random drawing decided which two students would spar together. Comically so, Katsuki and Hitoshi were paired to spar.

You felt your breath catch in your throat when the match was announced. Why did it have to be Katsuki? Your nerves stood on end, as the two boys made their way to the designated sparring ground.

It's fine, you attempted to soothe yourself. Katsuki obviously didn't care about you or Hitoshi, right? If he did, he would have attempted to reconcile today after the nasty fight you two had last night.

The whole class was on edge as they waited for the spar to begin. As if everyone was wondering the same thing, Katsuki wouldn't go too hard on him right?

But just as Katsuki had underestimated your feelings for Hitoshi, everyone underestimated Katsuki's jealousy.

Within a few minutes of the spar, Katsuki had Hitoshi on the floor. The recent transfer to the hero course was no match for the experienced Katsuki. Attempting to hold his own, Hitoshi wrapped the capture scarf around Katsuki's wrists to no avail. A strong blast still came his way effectively knocking him out cold.

Katsuki's jealousy and rage getting the best of him, he let out another explosion directed at his classmate despite him being already knocked out on the floor. Aizawa quickly stepped in to stop the now one-sided beating.

Once the smoke and rubble had cleared the gruesome scene came into view. Hitoshi was on the floor, unconscious, fresh wounds across his face, dirtied from the soot of Katsuki's explosions.

The sight elicited a frenzy response from you. Your fists clenched, face hot, and ears ringing you trampled over to the sparing ground. Interrupting the lecture Katsuki was receiving from Aizawa, you broke in between and slapped Katsuki across the face.

Everyone froze, even Aizawa was caught off guard by your behavior.

Katsuki looked at you astonished, speechless for one of the first times in his life.

"YOU DIDN'T NEED TO GO THAT HARD!" You yelled.

The stinging on his cheek, the distraught look in your eyes, and the venom laced in your words made the realization finally hit. It wasn't an act.

"You really like him?" Katsuki mused almost to himself.

sinners: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @derangedmango @reneinii @peachsukii @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @that-one-fangirl69 @pinkpurpledreams

[bueckersstuff]

REMEMBER

Click here for chapter: 1, 2, & 3

Chapter 4: New Life

You had come to terms with the fact that you'd never escape Paige. Memories of everything that involved her had begun flooding back over the past few days, piece by piece. But no one had to know—not even your dad. You just wanted to start fresh. And Paige? She was long gone from your life.

You were deep cleaning your room when your dad came in, his face serious. "Can we talk for a minute?"

You paused, wiping your hands on the towel. "Sure."

"So," he started, clearly hesitant, "I was thinking… maybe it's time for you to go back to school."

You froze, the towel dropping to the floor. "You're sending me back to New York?"

"No, honey," he said, his tone softening. "You're going to attend UConn. Is that okay with you? You can do some research if you want, so you’ll have an idea about the school." He continued, but you were already zoned out the moment he mentioned UConn. Only one thing came to mind.

Paige Madison Bueckers. Women's Basketball Star Athlete. UConn. You think maybe your dad is doing it on purpose, but then he doesn’t know that you remember Paige now. Or maybe it’s God, punishing you for lying to him.

You swallowed hard, trying to hide your reaction. "Yeah, sure. I mean… new scenery won’t hurt, right?"

Your dad looked relieved. "Great. I was worried you might not like the idea, but I already processed all your documents with the university. You’re scheduled to leave the day after tomorrow."

You nodded, your stomach twisting as the words hung in the air. What else could you say? You had no choice.

The day arrived. The University of Connecticut was not a stranger to you. But your dad had no idea. You’d been there once before, and just the thought of it made you grimace.

The first time you went was when Paige was in her second year. She kept insinuating how cool it would be if you showed up to one of her games, so you planned to surprise her by booking a plane ticket. You didn’t tell anyone, not even your parents in New York. It was mid-year, and you had classes the next day, so you’d need to return soon. You went to UConn to surprise Paige, but instead, you were the one who ended up surprised.

Before entering the Gampel Pavilion, you overheard murmurs about Paige being in a relationship with one of her teammates. At first, you couldn’t believe it. You were her best friend! She didn’t even think to tell you? You went inside anyway, determined to see her, but when you saw Paige with that girl from her team, your world came crashing down. The closeness between them was undeniable—different from the rest. You couldn't stop imagining yourself in that girl’s place, talking to Paige, her smiling, tapping your cheek just like old times. And that’s when it hit you. You weren't supposed to be the one in her life anymore.

Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them. The woman sitting next to you looked at you with confusion, but you couldn’t care. You stood up, running out of the arena, your heart breaking with each step.

After that, everything changed. You realized what you wanted—what you had always wanted and more. But by then, it was too late.

Paige has no idea what happened to you. Later that night, she texted you, informing you about her game. But you just couldn't bring yourself to talk to her. You turned bitter, but you also had no courage to actually tell her anything. Every conversation with her turned into arguments because Paige isn't telling you anything and keeps pretending like she doesn't have a girl waiting for her on the other side of the line. Or maybe they were together, you thought. You're always mad, so is she, because she keeps saying she can't understand you anymore. So you stopped trying.

Days passed, months, then a year. You heard nothing from her. Just the occasional glimpse of her life through social media, and you could see she was happy. Still with that girl. She completely forgot about you.

Then came the injury. You learned about it from the news, and you immediately went to your contacts, your finger hovering above her name, then pressed call.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end wasn’t Paige’s. It was sweet, warm, but unfamiliar.

"Hi, is Paige there? I just wanted to know if she’s okay? I’m her—"

"Ah, yes. Paige is fine," the voice cut you off. "But it’s best for her to rest right now. It’s been a long day. I got her, no need for you to be concerned."

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Who’s this?"

"This is Azzi." Oh. Azzi as in the teammate number 35? The one rumored to be more than just a teammate. Your heart sank, but you didn’t press further. Paige was okay, that’s all that mattered. Even if your heart was breaking all over again.

Days passed. Paige sent you messages every now and then, but you never replied.

Hey, how are you? So, I happened to tear my ACL in case you didn’t know. Hey. Aren’t you gonna check in on me? I miss you. What happened to us?

You saw them all, each one digging deeper into the ache in your chest. But you remembered Azzi’s words. Paige was happy with her. So why would she need you?

"Excuse me." You snapped out of your thoughts, realizing your mood had shifted into something darker. It was your first day at school, and you didn’t want to carry this weight with you.

You turned, startled, and found a guy standing there, waiting for your attention. "Yes?" you replied, trying to shake off the sadness.

"Are you the transferee? I'm Luke, from the student council. I was tasked to be your guide for the day," he introduced himself.

You gave him a small smile and introduced yourself. He seemed friendly, helpful, and guided you through the entire day—showing you the Engineering Faculty for your schedule, then taking you to the Swim Club, a place your dad had convinced you to join.

By the time you were back in your dorm, it was already evening. You had one roommate, but she wasn’t here yet. The name on her door read "Hailey," so you figured that was her.

Around 8 pm, a knock came at your door. You opened it to find a tall brunette holding a paper bag.

"Hi, I’m Hailey! I’ve been waiting for you since yesterday, once they told me I’d have a roommate. Also, here." She handed you the bag.

"Hi, it’s really nice of you, but you didn’t have to bring me a gift..." You said, shyly.

"Uh, first off, I’m broke as hell, girl. Second, it’s not from me. Third, it has your name on it, so I assumed it’s for you. It was left at our door," Hailey said, grinning.

You looked inside the bag, and to your surprise, there were containers of food. A note simply read, "Dinner."

You frowned, puzzled. What was this about?

"Thank you, Hailey. It’s nice to meet you!" you said, still a little confused.

"No problem! I’m gonna crash now, though. Girl’s tired as hell." Hailey laughed and disappeared into her own room.

You closed the door, placed the bag on your study table, and examined the containers. But after a moment of thought, you shrugged. Maybe it was just a token from the school. You didn’t have the energy to dwell on it. You were tired, and you had school tomorrow.

The next morning, you got up early to get ready. You threw on some loose clothes that were a little too big for you. You didn’t like how you looked in tight clothes, always feeling too thin. You gazed into the mirror, a habit you're welcoming in your life again, one last time before leaving. Your long black hair, your pale skin, your black eyes… at least you were tall. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

As you walked out of your dorm, you noticed a white plastic bag by your door. But you didn’t have time to waste. You ignored it and headed to your classes.

Hours went by so fast. Classes were done, and you're walking now to your swimming club.

The first day of swim practice was intimidating. Still, you’d promised your dad you’d give it a try, so here you were. You’re excited but a little nervous, as you weren’t entirely sure what to expect. When you arrived, the pool area was bustling with energy. Swimmers of all ages were warming up, chatting with their teammates, and prepping for the day ahead. You are immediately drawn to the sense of camaraderie among the athletes. Everyone seemed to know each other, exchanging jokes and smiles, making it clear this was a tight-knit group.

You found your place with the women's team, and the coach, a tall, confident woman with short black hair, greeted you warmly. "Glad you could join us!" she said. "We've been waiting for you."

"Hi, it's nice to meet y’all." You introduced yourself to them warmly.

"Go change in the locker room so we can start with practice," Coach told you.

You stepped into the locker room, feeling the familiar wave of nervous energy. The room buzzed with activity as swimmers prepared for practice. A few glanced your way, but no one paid you much attention. You were the new face, after all.

"Hey! Transferee!" You turned to see a guy with messy brown hair and a friendly smile. He was tall, built—definitely a swimmer. Is that the guy from yesterday?

"Luke?"

"Nice to see you again. I’m on the men’s team." He grinned, extending his hand, which you shook. “I forgot to mention yesterday."

He then led you to the side of the pool where a few other teammates were gathered. “Alright, let’s meet the team. This is Mia," he said, pointing to a short, athletic girl who was busy adjusting her swim cap. “She’s a sprinter, one of the fastest in the team.”

Mia looked up and smiled at you, giving a quick wave. "Welcome to the chaos," she said with a laugh.

“Over there is Isaac," Luke continued, motioning toward a lanky guy sitting on the bleachers, flipping through his phone. "He’s our distance swimmer. Don’t let his chill demeanor fool you—he can swim a mile faster than most of us can run.”

Isaac lifted his head and gave you a lazy wave, flashing a grin. “Hey.”

"And that’s Ava," Luke said, gesturing to a tall, broad-shouldered girl who was stretching her legs by the edge of the pool. "She’s the team's powerhouse in backstroke."

Ava gave you a friendly nod but didn’t stop her stretches. “Nice to meet you,” she called, her voice calm and focused.

You smiled, feeling surprisingly at ease. The team seemed laid-back but also serious about their sport. You couldn’t help but admire how dedicated they were. They were all different, yet they worked seamlessly together.

Practice kicked off not long after, and you were quickly thrown into the mix. The coach, a no-nonsense woman named Coach Katie, had you start with some warm-up laps to get a feel for your speed.

Luke swam beside you during your first lap, offering tips and helping you adjust your strokes. “Don’t overthink it,” he said. “The water’s your friend. Just flow with it.”

You nodded, focusing on your breathing and the rhythm of your strokes. After a few laps, the nervousness faded, replaced by a growing sense of familiarity. The water felt less like a challenge and more like an extension of yourself.

The week flew by. Each day felt smoother than the last as you got used to the routine, your teammates, and the sport itself. Luke was always there to offer advice, but you noticed he also gave you space when you needed it. Mia and Isaac kept you laughing during breaks, and Ava’s quiet determination was contagious. And you've been having a good bond with your roommate, Hailey. It became a regular thing. Along with the magically popping food containers on your door step every day. But you think less of it, Hailey's the one who's enjoying all of it anyway.

You got into a groove with your training, and by the end of the week, you felt like you were starting to belong. Your muscles ached, but in a good way. You were pushing yourself, and it felt… right. You didn’t run into Paige once—not at the pool, not in the hallways, not in any of your classes.

It was as if she had never existed in this new chapter of your life.

For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were moving forward. There was no lingering past, no painful memories pulling at you. Just the present—the team, the practice, the friendships slowly forming.

Apparently, you learned that the team was gearing up for a competition the day after tomorrow. It’s currently the Big East season, and you’ll be competing against Villanova. It’s an away game, and Coach Katie needs everyone locked in. So, you spent your free time practicing with the team.

Competition Day. You’re all lining up to board the school bus for the swim team when you notice another bus parked beside it. Students in athletic gear are also lining up to board it.

“It’s the basketball team. I heard we have the same venue this time,” Mia explains as she notices you staring. “They’re playing Villanova’s women’s basketball team.”

You scan their line, your eyes searching for a certain blonde. There she is, you think. Paige is standing there, chatting animatedly with her two teammates about something funny. One of them has a number 10 on her gear. And there’s Azzi. If it isn’t Azzi Fudd.

Suddenly, you catch the number 10 girl staring at you and saying something to Paige, who quickly turns her head toward your direction.

Shit, were you caught? You're not supposed to know her!

Thankfully, it’s your turn to load the bus. As you walk up the steps and find a seat, you feel eyes on you from outside. You can’t help but glance back. There’s no harm in it as long as you don’t show any emotion or recognition, you tell yourself. The number 10 girl has a small smile on her face and shakes her head at Paige. Meanwhile, Paige is still looking at you through the window with a blank expression on her face. But what shocks you the most is Azzi’s expression. It’s a mix of recognition and something between troubled and apologetic.

You turn back around and take your seat then sighed. This is going to be a long day.

A/N: Don't get me wrong guys, I love Azzi very muchhh. She's a princess. This is just for the plot! Much lovee <3

Taglist: @sjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj @0phantom0 @authentic-girl03 @thelightknight21 @shartnugget26

[forevamark]

4. the unbearable truth | time lapse l.mk

Pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

Tags: pre idol debut to idol au, christmas and new years time line, slice of life moments, college student reader, substantial plot leading to smut, very dialogue heavy, angsty moments, slow burn, relationship struggle, lovers to exes to lovers

Intended for 18+ readers, minors do not interact.

masterlist for time lapse

previous ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next

Word Count : 5.5k+

Summary: Mark has always had the dream of becoming a big music star, meanwhile your aspirations lied with academics and coexisting with Mark. Mark struggles with telling reader that he will be leaving for Korea to pursue his music career very soon, in fear of losing what they have.

warnings are under the tab for chapters that apply.

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long! I'm trying to graduate rn just like y/n :( but enjoy the angst train!!

December 14, 2023

The creak of the old wooden floors under Mark’s socks was a sound he hadn’t realized he missed until now. The familiar scent of his mom’s cooking wafted through the house, mingling with the faint lavender detergent she always used for the curtains. He leaned against the kitchen counter, watching his dad flip through a worn photo album at the dining table.

“This one’s from the camping trip back in 2015,” his dad said, tilting the album for Mark to see. The photo showed a group huddled around a campfire, their faces lit by the warm glow. Mark was in the middle, arms slung around someone who was laughing—someone who wasn’t supposed to still make his heart twist like this.

His mom glanced over his dad’s shoulder and immediately caught her slip-up. “Oh, Mark, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize Y/N was in this one,” she said, her voice tinged with regret.

Mark forced a small smile, waving it off. “It’s fine, Mom. Really.”

But it wasn’t. Not entirely.

They moved on to the next page, yet the conversation seemed to circle back to you, no matter how much they tried not to.

“Oh! Remember that Thanksgiving when Y/N helped me bake those carrot cookies?” his mom said before catching herself. She winced. “I mean—uh, anyway, you used to love that carrot cookie recipe.”

Mark exhaled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I remember.”

His dad chuckled, oblivious. “She was always such a great sport about all your mom’s baking experiments. You two used to make a good team in the kitchen.”

“Dad.”

His father finally looked up, realizing his mistake, and his face softened. “Sorry, son. I know it’s... a touchy subject.”

Mark shrugged, swallowing the lump in his throat. “It’s fine. Let’s just... talk about something else.”

The room fell into a brief, awkward silence, broken only by the clatter of dishes as his mom set the table. After a moment, she sat down across from Mark, her expression unusually serious.

“Mark,” she began, her voice gentle but firm, “I know we keep slipping up, but... maybe it’s because we can’t help but associate so many happy memories with her. She was such a big part of your life. And I think—maybe—you miss her, too.”

Mark stiffened, his gaze dropping to the table. “Mom...”

“And not just her,” she pressed. “I think you miss a lot of things. Home, maybe. The simpler times. The you who didn’t have so much pressure on his shoulders.”

His jaw tightened, and he let out a slow breath. “I’m fine. I chose this path, remember? I wanted to go to Korea, to chase my dreams. And I’m doing okay.”

“You are,” she agreed, her eyes softening. “But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. And it doesn’t mean you don’t feel lonely sometimes.”

He looked up at her, his defenses cracking under the warmth of her gaze. “I... yeah. I miss her. And I miss home sometimes. But leaving was something I had to do, Mom. I couldn’t stay here and wonder ‘what if’ my whole life.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “But it’s okay to miss what you had, even while you’re building something new. It doesn’t make you any less brave or successful.”

Mark leaned back in his chair, the weight of her words settling over him. “I guess... I’ve just been trying not to think about it. About her. Or what I left behind.”

“You don’t have to bury it, honey,” she said. “Feel it. Remember it. And then let it be part of what drives you forward, not what holds you back.”

Mark nodded slowly, his chest feeling a little lighter, though the ache remained. Maybe it always would. 

The table was quiet for a long moment, the hum of the old fridge filling the space. Mark sat there, his fingers gripping the edge of his chair as his mom’s words echoed in his mind.

He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but instead, a choked sound escaped. He quickly looked away, blinking rapidly as the pressure in his chest grew unbearable.

“Mark?” his mom asked softly, leaning forward.

“I’m fine,” he said hoarsely, shaking his head. But his voice cracked, betraying him.

Before he could stop himself, his head fell into his hands, and the tears came.

“I miss her, Mom,” he said, his voice muffled but thick with emotion. “I miss her so much.”

His mom was at his side in an instant, her arms wrapping around him. She didn’t say anything, just held him as he let everything out.

“I miss everything,” he continued, his words spilling out like a dam had burst. “I miss sneaking into her house at night, trying not to wake her parents. I miss the way she’d laugh at my stupid jokes, even when they weren’t funny. I miss how she’d make me feel like I could do anything, like I was invincible. And I miss home—your cooking, Dad’s dumb stories, the way things used to be before I left.”

His shoulders shook as he let out a shaky breath, his hands clenching into fists. “I thought I could just leave and be okay, but I’m not. I’m not okay, Mom.”

She rubbed his back soothingly, her heart breaking for him. “Oh, Mark... it’s okay to feel this way. You’ve been holding all of this in for so long, haven’t you?”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I thought I could just keep moving forward, you know? Like if I focused on my career, it wouldn’t hurt so much. But every time I think about her, it feels like... like I can’t breathe.”

His dad, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. “You know, son, sometimes the things we try to leave behind have a way of sticking with us. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing. It just means it mattered.”

Mark wiped his face with the back of his hand, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “I still love her, Dad. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop.”

His dad nodded, a small, understanding smile on his face. “Love like that doesn’t just go away. But the question is—what are you going to do about it?”

Mark looked up, his eyes red and glassy. “I don’t even know if she’d want to hear from me. It’s been so long. What if she’s moved on?”

“Maybe she has,” his mom said gently. “But you’ll never know unless you try. And even if she has, at least you’ll have said what’s in your heart. You deserve that closure, Mark, whether it’s a new beginning or a final goodbye.”

He let those words sink in, the weight of them settling alongside the ache in his chest. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to think about the possibility of reaching out—not just to her, but to all the parts of himself he’d tried so hard to leave behind.

“I’ll think about it,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

His mom squeezed his shoulder, her smile warm and reassuring. “That’s all I ask.”

“You’ll always be tethered together you two,” she starts with a warm smile, “you two spent so much of your lives together, it’s not good to keep them buried. It’s good that you still care about her. I know it may not look like it, but deep down she’s still tethered to you.”

And as Mark sat there, the smell of his mom’s cooking filling the room and his parents’ presence grounding him, he realized that maybe it was time to stop running—from his past, from his feelings, and most of all, from her.

“I need to get her back,” he said straightening out his posture and composing himself, “this isn’t right without her.”

“There we go Mark!” his dad said while getting up to hug him, “you don’t give up.”

Mark was going to your graduation, and you were going to fall back in love with him.

December 15, 2023

The morning light streamed through the curtains, illuminating your small apartment with a soft, golden glow. You stood in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom, your graduation gown draped over your shoulders. Your fingers smoothed the fabric absently, your heart caught somewhere between excitement and an ache you couldn’t quite ignore.

Your gaze shifted to the black cap resting on your desk, its surface decorated with tiny, carefully arranged rhinestones and a bold quote in gold lettering: hello, future!

Mark had insisted on helping you with it, staying up late one night despite his own schedule being packed. He’d teased you for picking a simple quote but still carefully glued each gem, making sure it was perfect. You remembered the way his face lit up when you two finished, his arm slung around your shoulders as you admired your work.

You bite your lip, willing yourself not to cry.

You turned back to the mirror, adjusting the cap over your styled hair. Your eyes caught the delicate heels on the floor, pristine and elegant, a stark contrast to how you felt inside. Mark had worked overtime to save up for them, presenting them with a goofy grin and a note that read, For my rockstar, who shines brighter than any stage light.

Your chest tightened as you slipped them on. You hadn’t worn them since your breakup.

Walking into the living room, you froze at the sight of the couch. It was still the same soft, slightly worn piece of furniture where you two had spent countless nights. The memories flooded in uninvited: Mark sprawled out with his guitar, humming softly while you reviewed her notes; the way he’d throw a blanket over you two as you drifted off during late-night study sessions; the quiet comfort of his presence as you dreamed of your futures.

Your throat closed up, and you sank onto the couch, your fingers tracing the armrest. A small brown stain reminding you of your favorite take out, and the small things that only Mark would know at the perfect time. 

The weight of the moment hit you all at once. 

You were about to graduate, something you had both worked so hard for, but he wasn’t here to celebrate with you.

As you rested your head against the cushions, your cap slipping slightly to the side. Tears welled in your eyes, and this time, you didn’t fight them.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this without you,” you whispered into the empty room.

Your voice wavered, breaking under the weight of emotions you’d kept buried for months. 

You missed him—more than you wanted to admit. Mark had been there for everything: your late-night breakdowns, your victories, your dreams. And now, as you stood on the brink of achieving one of their shared milestones, the absence of him felt unbearable.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened up, brushing away your tears. You reached for your phone and opened the private photo gallery, scrolling through old pictures of you two. There you two were, smiling brightly, you in his hoodie and him grinning as he held your favorite drink in one hand and peace signs in the other.

Your thumb hovered over his contact, the familiar name staring back at you like a ghost of the past. You wondered if he was thinking about you today—or if he even remembered the cap, the shoes, the promises you made on this very couch.

Your phone buzzed suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts. It was your photographer, letting you know they were ready to start.

As you stood, taking one last look around the apartment, the memories lingered, but so did your determination. You adjusted your cap, forcing a small smile in the mirror.

“Here’s to moving forward,” you murmured, even as your heart whispered, 

But I still miss you.

With that, you grabbed your bag and stepped out the door, leaving behind the echoes of a love she wasn’t sure she’d ever fully let go of.

–

The sun was unforgiving as it bore down on the packed university auditorium, the air abuzz with excitement and the murmur of proud families gathered to celebrate their graduates. Seungcheol sat near the top of the auditorium, nervously adjusting the collar of his white button-up for the hundredth time. It was already perfectly straight, but he couldn’t stop fidgeting. He glanced down at the bouquet of flowers in his hand—roses, lilies, and baby’s breath, a group of flowers he bought from Winn Dixie.

“She’s going to love these,” he muttered under his breath, though his voice lacked conviction.

Nearby, your family huddled in a tight circle, their expressions a mix of anticipation and mild irritation as they avoided looking his way. He had made his presence more than known since arriving—offering to carry their things, insisting on getting the best seats, and loudly recounting stories of how Y/N had stayed up late preparing for her exams, as if they didn’t already know.

“Is he ever going to stop talking?” your older brother whispered to your mom, who responded with a barely concealed sigh.

“Doubt it,” your dad grumbled, crossing his arms. His sharp glare cut across the distance between them, and Seungcheol froze mid-step as if the weight of their collective disdain had finally hit him.

Still, he wasn’t the type to give up. He tightened his grip on the bouquet and plastered on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I just want to make today special for her,” he murmured to himself, more determined than ever.

“Oh we know, Seungcheol,” your mom sighed while patting his shoulder and sitting next to him, “I think they’re about to walk out now.”

–

You straightened your cap one more time, as Pomp and Circumstance played in the background. 

It’s time! All of this hard work, it’s time!

The crowd erupted into congratulatory cheers as your graduating class walked out. The journey to your seat felt like a blur. Your leg tapped incessantly waiting through all of the fluff and pleasantries from your esteemed professors. And soon enough, it was your time to walk.

Your row stood together heading towards the stage, and you wince as you hear Seungcheol calling out to you, clearly disregarding the current students’ names being called. You look over to him, your family trying yet failing to get him to pipe down. 

His grin was infectious, but you were burning red in embarrassment. The large gaudy balloons behind him stared back at you. As you awaited your turn, your eyes scanned the crowd full of familiar faces from the library and just soaking in the moment.

And as the universe would have it, your eyes meet a single hooded and masked figure in a light blue button up. His phone was up clearly pointed at you.

Mark.

Wow, he really came! You couldn’t believe it and the confidence soared through you fleetingly as you felt yourself being pushed forward to hand your name card to the staff member reading out names.

“Y/n, Y/LN!”

You felt a rush of anxiety roll off you as you shakily walked across the stage to shake the dean’s hand. 

“Breath, y/n, you’re finally done!” 

You follow their advice and plaster a giant smile towards the camera.

Your friends and family’s cheers were loud but Seungcheol’s was embarrassingly aggressive.

Your ears pick up another voice from the other side of the auditorium. 

Mark stood jumping up and down, holding his phone tightly and just about fell over through the row in front of him.

He chanted your name and for some reason, it all felt right.

This is the moment you always wanted.

You smile all the way back to your seat.

As Seungcheol didn’t relent on his own parade of accolades and cat calling, Mark sat down and watched you in awe.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N,” he whispered.

–

“Congratulations!” Seungcheol said as he held out the bouquet and obnoxious balloons, his grin impossibly wide. “You were amazing up there! You looked so good, and I mean wow this dress—”

“Thank you,” you cut him off gently, taking the flowers and squeezing his hand to calm his nerves. Or was it your nerves… what was Mark doing here? I mean yeah your heart is soaring at the fact he came- WHAT? NO!

He smiles at you wildly, pulling his hand away to engulf you in a giant rocking hug. You embrace him back, letting out the sigh you have been holding in for hours now.

This is fine. 

Yup. 

Your father cleared his throat loudly, a not-so-subtle reminder that they were watching. 

“Alright, family picture time!” Seungcheol announced, clapping his hands together. “I’ll take it for you. Everyone line up!”

Your mom raised an eyebrow, her tone as sharp as ever. “We were just about to do that, actually.”

“Perfect timing, then!” he replied, oblivious to the sarcasm.

As your family reluctantly shuffled into position, Y/N placed a hand on Seungcheol’s arm. “Maybe... let them lead this one,” you whispered.

Seungcheol blinked, his enthusiasm deflating ever so slightly. “Right. Of course. Family moment.” He stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Seungcheol backed away slowly, trying to make himself busy by staring at the nearby tree… which of course Mark just so happened to be standing by, watching the entire interaction, his body in mid turn, awaiting to retreat into the crowd. He was embarrassed to even show up… you’re happy right?

Their eyes met with quick anger and jealousy.

Mark’s arms filled with white and pink tulips- your favorite, and the build-a-bear box tucked in his palm.

Seungcheol was about to storm towards him but was quickly whisked away to take a picture with you. 

You sported a tight lipped smile as his arm found it’s way to your waist. 

 As Mark watched you hug Seungcheol, he felt the familiar tug at his heart of seeing you and and him at Izaiah’s party the other week. Angst, hurt, and jealousy flowed through him, but most of all envy and cowardness.

Mark’s shoulders hung low, and he turned around trying to find the quickest and quietest exit. 

“Mark, right?” he heard a small voice say from next to him.

He turned to see the build a bear employee from the mall.

“I could tell from the box, have you found her yet?” she asked excitingly.

“Yeah, I did,” he responds sadly.

“Well, why do you still have everything in your arms? I don’t know… give it to her, maybe?” she laughs.

Mark sighs meeting her gaze. Oh? She’s in a full graduation cap and gown, how rude of him! 

“Oh! Uhm…ha, Congrats to you! My apologies for having you stop me while I burden you with my …problems,”

“Thank you,” she smiles with hands on her hips, “My name is Camille by the way.”

“Mark,” he says with a small smile.

“Like we didn’t already know that haha…” she pushes him lightly.

As Camille tried to convince Mark to approach you, he was so in his head that he didn’t notice the longing eyes from you just yards away. 

So this is how he moves on, huh? And to think he cared! All this time, it was for his new girl…

The girl pushes him lightly causing him to chuckle and it feels like someone stabbed you in the stomach. She looks over at his bouquet and take it out of his hands, smelling the fresh tulips. It feels like someone is twisting a knife around in your stomach.

And the cherry on top of killing you slowly was watching him hug her tightly with his eyes closed.

Your aura was palpable to your friends and family, almost as they can envision the slow bleeding out of your heart as you watched the interaction.

“How about we head to dinner now, y/n,” Kathy says to you softly from your right.

“Who even is she anyways?” Izaiah says from your left.

“The new graduate is riding with me of course!” Seuncheol announces while slinging an arm around you, “just let me take care of something first.” 

You nod lightly and walk over to your mom explaining the plans to meet up for the gathering. Seungcheol kept his smile plastered until you were lost in the crowd. His eyes narrowed as he pushed his way over to meet Mark.

“So what did you graduate with?” Mark smiles lightly before taking the flowers back from Camille’s arms.

“Got a lot of nerve showing up here, Big Shot,” Seungcheol hisses out while bumping into him.

“It was psychology…” Camille says with a questioning glare between the both of them.

“Thank god you moved on,” Seungcheol laughs before looking at Camille, “Careful with this one!”

“I think I see what’s going on here…” she says with a tight lip, “Mark, this will be an easy win for you don’t worry.” 

Mark laughs lightly while taking in a deep breath, “Thanks Camille. Enjoy your day, congratulations again.” Camille walks off while shaking her head, but not without a hard shoulder check towards Seungcheol.

“Of course I would be here for her big day, I’ve been there every step of the way.”

“You were, now you’re not. Just give it up, bro,” Seungcheol says while moving closer to Mark, his own frame towering over him, “Look at her, yeah,” he turns Mark to align with you smiling with the balloons around you, “That’s the face a girl makes when she’s happy. That’s the face a girl makes when you treat her right,” if that wasn’t enough he whispers into Mark’s ear, “That’s the face a girl makes when she moves on from a little bitch.” 

Mark shakes in pain. 

You look so happy.

“Can’t you just let her go? For her.” 

Mark’s hands loosen on the bouquet of tulips in his hands. 

You look so much more happy.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take these off your hands,” Seungcheol says with a smirk, “Thanks man, didn’t think she was a tulip girl,” he grips Mark’s arm as he seeths out a final, “Stay the fuck away from her. It would be a shame if you can’t perform due to…say a broken leg?”

Mark stands still as tears well in his eyes. 

“Cheol!” he can hear you calling out for him.

“I’m coming babe!” he yells out and let’s go of Mark while walking over to meet you.

“There you are, time to go now,” you smile, not evening noticing Mark’s sulking in the background.

“Just had to surprise you one last time,” he grins and engulfing you in a hug, turning just slightly to wink at Mark.

“Tulips! How did you know they’re my favorite?”

Because of me. Mark tries to say, but his voice fails him. 

Seungcheol sneaks a cheeky kiss on your temple, “Wait I think I dropped my keys one sec! You keep walking I know you walk slow in those heels.”

You roll your eyes and walk away, Seungcheol running up to Mark one last time, “Almost forgot!” He snatches the build a bear box right out of his hands, “Thanks Mark, you always did know what to get her!”

His eyes never leave you as you trot along in your heels towards the parking lot. Amidst the throbbing pain in his chest, a realization hit him.

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. So much so he bent over and leaned against the tree to hold him up. Maniacal, he sounded. 

If you didn’t love him anymore, why did you wear those heels?

—-

The cool December air hums with laughter and the flickering glow of fairy lights were strung across the backyard. The scent of barbecue and freshly cut grass lingers in the air, mixing with the distant sound of chatter and music. It’s your graduation party—your moment. After the past year, after all the pain, the doubt, the nights where you thought you’d never make it through, you finally have something to celebrate.

So why does it still feel so… unreal?

“Hey,” Kathy nudges you, pulling you from your thoughts. “You should actually enjoy this, you know? This is everything you worked for.” She gives you a pointed look before taking a sip from her cup. “You deserve to be happy.”

You exhale, trying to let the words sink in, but there’s a part of you that still hesitates. You glance around at the people who have come to celebrate—your family, your friends, even the neighbors who barely know you but showed up for the free food. It’s all so perfect. Too perfect.

“It just doesn’t feel real yet,” you admit, voice quieter than you intended.

Kathy smiles, but there’s a knowing glint in her eyes. “Well, it is. And if you don’t start acting like it, I will personally make you.”

Before you can respond, another voice cuts through the air.

“Oh, come on, are we really just gonna ignore the elephant in the room?”

You turn to see Izaiah, standing with his arms crossed, shaking his head in clear disapproval. He doesn’t even bother lowering his voice as he jerks his chin toward the other side of the yard, where Seungcheol is deep in conversation with your uncle.

“Because that guy? He’s the worst.”

Your stomach tightens. “Izaiah, not now.”

“Nah, now is the perfect time,” he presses, stepping closer. “We’re all thinking it, Y/N. I literally just talked to your brother about him. He sucks! You’ve been pretending to be happy, but you don’t have to force it. Yes, you have been out more, but it doesn’t feel like you. You’ve had a rough year, sure, but that doesn’t mean you have to settle for some guy who acts like a dick every time he speaks.”

Kathy chokes on a laugh, trying to play it off when you glare at her.

“Hey he’s funny!” Kathy chuckles, “He pulled our girl out of her funk.”

“Are dumb or are you stupid? She’s still in the funk! Girl open you’re eyes!” Izaiah exclaims.

“Zai, I’m fine,” you say, the words coming out sharper than you intended.

“Are you?” He doesn’t budge. “Because you don’t look like someone who just got their life back on track. You look like someone trying really, really hard to convince themselves they’re okay.”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, your mom’s voice rings out from the deck.

“Alright, everyone! Let’s head on inside, it’s getting pretty cold. It’s time for presents!”

The conversation halts, tension still thick in the air. You force a smile and step away, feeling Izaiah’s gaze linger on you, filled with something dangerously close to concern.

“Everything is fine. This is what I have always wanted.”

“We’re not done talking about this.” Zai rolls his eyes and looks at Kathy, “Can’t believe you support dating this child of a man.”

“We’re not dating, yet.” you whisper.

“He’s hot!” Kathy shouts at him as she watches Zai pull a middle finger at her from behind his retreating frame.

Seungcheol was at the door girating his hips while beckoning everyone inside with some silly shouting. 

Zai turns around one last time to shoot you both a disappointed glare.

“Well, he can be hot at times…” Kathy takes back.

As you make your way to the stack of neatly wrapped gifts, you push down the words you don’t want to admit are true. Maybe Izaiah isn’t wrong. Maybe you are pretending. Maybe you aren’t as happy as you want to be.

But tonight isn’t the time to think about that.

Tonight, you’re supposed to celebrate.

Even if you don’t quite know how.

-

You sit on the cushioned patio chair, a pile of torn wrapping paper and envelopes gathering at your feet as the night continues with your loved ones around you. Your dad stands nearby, his phone raised, recording every moment while your friends and family watch with warm smiles.

“Alright, last one,” you say, reaching for the final gift on the table.

The moment your fingers brush against the box, a flicker of recognition sparks in your chest. It’s a Build-A-Bear box—white with blue stars, the signature handle looped through the top. A few people chuckle knowingly, but you can’t bring yourself to look up just yet. 

And then you see it.

“Whose this one from?” You raise an eyebrow at the only left suspect.

“Guess who!” he laughs uncomfortably.

You barely notice as you get up to sit next to him, “So which one did you get me?”

“It’s a surprise!” he says with a smirk.

Your hands feel a little too steady as you carefully lift the lid, peeling back the tissue paper inside. A plush bunny, soft brown fur, wearing a tiny graduation cap and gown. Your stomach clenches as you pull it out, holding it in your lap. There’s a faint weight to it, heavier than a normal stuffed animal. 

“This is so cute!” Kathy gleams from the side holding her camera up, “look over here for a pic!”

Izaiah rolls his eyes again as you two get scooched together for a picture. 

You turn the bunny to look at you, and you couldn’t help but have a wide grin.

“You like it?” Seungcheol asks oddly smug.

“Of course, I love it,” you say with a small peck to his cheek, “wait I didn’t know you put a voice recording in it!”

“Oh!” Seungcheol exclaims while grabbing the bunny out of your arms and holding it out of your reach, “Forgot about that sorry!”

“Well, let me hear it!” you say confused.

“Let’s hear it, lover boy!” your dad playfully yells from the side with his camera out.

“Uh… it’s a little personal don’t worry guys just a bit embarrassed…” he sweats.

“Just play the fucking bunny, y/n!” Zai shouts grabbing the stuffed animal out of his hands and throwing it at you. 

The audience in front of you cheering for you to press it.

“Y/n, don’t-”

You press the little button on it’s hand.

The audio begins with an undeniable stutter.

A stutter that makes everyone go silent, you gasp.

“Is it on? Okay. U-uh hi Y/n, congrats. You finally did it. I can’t believe you’re already done. Just know that I have never stopped thinking about you. Every time I’m at the studio, practice – fuck I just wish I would have known that chasing my dreams meant losing you. I wouldn’t have picked this. It was supposed to be us, everything I sing, it’s about you. It’s so hard without you. But. This is the life we live in. I’m happy that you’re happy. This bunny represents your dreams and all starting. Y/n. I can’t wait to read your book one day. Just know I’ll always love y–.”

The audio cuts right before he finished. A silent sob overflows. 

“y/n,” Seungcheol says while reaching out for you.

“Go home.” Zai says cutting him off, using his body as a barrier.

“I just-” 

“Go home,” Kathy sighs while ushering him away.

“Alright party’s over everyone!” Your mom calls out solemnly gesturing for everyone to leave.

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

Seungcheol... i'm bout to beat you up!!!

hehe anyways, sorry this took so long :(

as always, lmk your thoughts, questions, predictions... lowk the more the better it makes me feel motivated to post these bc it reminds me that there are people who will actually read my works and it's not just a little hobby to satisfy my delulu <3

xoxo eva